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“Hello, how’ve you been? How’s Vassar?”

“Boring.” She smiled up at him, her eyes locked in his as she grinned. “I think I’m too old for college.” Vassar seemed so childish to her. Within three months, she had been chafing to finish and do something else, but she still had three years left. And starting her second year, she was beginning to wonder if she’d make it through. “Poughkeepsie is absolutely awful.”

“After California, so is New York sometimes. The winters are a bit of a jolt, aren’t they?” He laughed. He had complained bitterly himself the year before, but he was used to it again, and he liked the excitement of New York, which was a far cry from sleepy Poughkeepsie.

“It was nice of you to come. I’m sure my father was touched,” she said politely, and Spencer almost laughed. In the swirling crowd around him, of hundreds of associates and friends, it was difficult to imagine Justice Barclay being “touched” by the attendance of one young, unimportant lawyer.

“It was nice of him to ask me. He must be very pleased with the appointment.”

She smiled at him, sipping her own gin and tonic. “He is. And so is my mother. She loves Washington. She was born here, you know.”

“I didn’t. I imagine this will be fun for you too. Can you get away from school?” He was admiring the smooth sweep of her shoulders as he asked, and decided he liked her new hairdo.

“Not often enough. I hardly ever got to New York last year. But I’m going to try and spend some time here with them, on vacations. It’s a lot easier than getting back to California.” They chatted on for a little while, and as the guests began to sit down, Spencer consulted one of several seating charts and discovered that he was sitting at her table. He assumed that her mother had seen to it, and had no idea that Elizabeth had requested it herself when she went over the guest list with her mother. She’d been impressed by him the year before, and was disappointed he had never tried to reach her at Vassar. “How do you like the law firm in New York?” She could no longer remember which one it was, but she remembered that it was important.

“I like it.” He smiled as he helped her to her seat, and she laughed at him.

“You sound surprised.”

His eyes smiled back at her as he sat down beside her. “I am. I was never all that sure that I wanted to be a lawyer.”

“And now you are?”

“More or less. I keep thinking it’s going to get harder, or more challenging, but it hasn’t so far. It’s actually very comfortable.” She nodded, and then smiled proudly in her father’s direction at a table nearby.

“And look what it leads to.”

“Not for everyone, I’m afraid. But I’m satisfied doing what I’m doing for the moment.”

“Have you ever thought of politics?” she inquired as the first course arrived. It was lobster bisque, served with white wine, and Spencer looked at her in amusement. She still had those piercing eyes that seemed to search one out, and she wasn’t afraid to ask serious questions. He had liked that about her the year before, and it struck him again now. She wasn’t afraid to tackle anything, and it was something that he admired. Elizabeth took the initiative herself and moved ahead. She was a woman in command, of herself, and her surroundings, and he suspected, given the opportunity, also the people around her. She was eyeing him with interest now, intensely involved in politics herself, because of her father.

“My brother had aspirations in that direction, or at least he thought so. But I’m not sure that’s my cup of tea at all.” The trouble was he wasn’t sure yet what was.

“If I were a man, that’s what I would do.” She sounded so sure of herself and he envied her a little bit as he laughed. She was certainly full of spunk. He remembered that the last time he had seen her, she had told him she wanted to be a lawyer.

“What are you studying at Vassar?”

“Liberal arts. Literature. French. History. Nothing very exciting.”

“What would you rather do?” She intrigued him with her sharp mind and direct approach. Elizabeth Barclay was certainly no shrinking violet.

“Give up school and do something useful. I was thinking about coming to Washington for a while, but Father had a fit when I mentioned it. He wants me to finish college first.”

“That sounds sensible. You only have three more
years.” But it even sounded long to him as he watched her.

“Have you been back to California at all?”

“No, I haven’t.” He said it with regret. “I really haven’t had time, and the last year has gone very quickly.” She nodded, it had for her too, in some ways, and slower in others. She had gone back to San Francisco to make her debut at the Cotillion at Christmas, and for the ball her parents had given her at the Burlingame Country Club just before. And then of course she had gone to Lake Tahoe for the summer. But she was more interested in visiting New York and Washington that winter. Her parents had already invited her to Palm Beach for Christmas.

The band started up then, and Spencer invited her to dance just as they began playing “Imagination,” while they waited for their main course. And Spencer guided her gently to the dance floor. She danced beautifully, and he looked down at the shining auburn hair and the deeply suntanned shoulders. Everything about her suggested health and well-being and power. She told him that she was going to Europe with her parents the following summer, on the
Ile de France
, and asked him if he’d ever been, and he told her he hadn’t. His father had promised to send him when he graduated from college, but by then the war was on, and he had enlisted right after that, and gone to the Pacific instead. She mentioned also that she was going to New York in a few weeks to visit one of her brothers. Ian Barclay worked for a law firm that was even more illustrious than the one that employed Spencer.

“Do you know them?” She looked up at him expectantly, looking very young and very pretty, and he began to feel the effects of the Scotch. He liked the feel of her
skin beneath his hands, and for the first time he noticed her perfume as they went on dancing.

“No, I don’t know him. My father does though.” He remembered his father saying that Barclay had been in his courtroom. “You’ll have to introduce me.” It was the first time he had suggested anything that implied he would see her again.

“I’d like to.” She looked victorious and a little regal as he led her back to the table, and they sat down to dinner and talk with her parents’ friends, and by the end of the evening, he felt as though he knew her a little better. She played tennis, she liked to ski, she spoke a little French, she hated dogs, and she didn’t seem particularly interested in children. What she wanted in life, she admitted to him over dessert, was to accomplish something in her life, not just play bridge and have babies. And it was obvious to him that she was crazy about her father and wanted to marry someone like him, a man who was “going somewhere,” as she put it, not just someone content to sit in an easy chair and let life pass him by. She wanted to marry a man who was important. She was young to be that definite about it, she was not yet twenty, but she knew her own mind, and she had plenty of opportunity to meet the kind of man she wanted. And for a moment, as they left the ballroom together, he realized that she would have liked Robert a lot better than him.

“Do you want to go out for a drink somewhere?” He was surprised to hear himself say it, but he liked talking to her.

“All right. Where are you staying?” Her brown eyes looked directly into his. She wasn’t afraid of anything, and certainly not Spencer.

“The Shoreham.”

“So are we. We can have a drink at the bar. I’ll just go tell my mother.” She did, and a few minutes later they
left, most of the guests were already gone, and it was almost one o’clock, and her mother didn’t object to her leaving with Spencer. He was a respectable, attractive man, and she knew she could trust him with her daughter. She waved to them as they left, but Spencer didn’t want to interrupt what looked like a serious conversation with the Speaker of the House. They left quietly and caught a cab back to the hotel, and took a quiet table in a corner of the bar. He noticed several heads turn as they walked in. They made a very striking couple.

He ordered champagne, and they talked for a while longer, about New York, his job, and California. He told her how much he had loved it and that he’d like to live there someday, although he didn’t see how, working for a law firm on Wall Street. And she laughed at him, all she wanted was to move to New York when she finished college, or maybe Washington now that her parents would be there for most of the year. She talked about wanting to have her own house in Georgetown.

It was obvious from the way she talked that she had never lacked for anything. It never dawned on her that she might not get what she wanted. But he had figured out that much when he met her in her home in San Francisco. Their house there was both opulent and beautiful, and it was easy to see that her life had been an easy one. Both her parents had come from families with a great deal of money.

“You have to come to Tahoe sometime. My grandfather built a wonderful house on the lake. I’ve loved it ever since I was a little girl.” But oddly, when she mentioned it, he thought of the Alexander Valley, and he asked her if she’d ever been there. “No, but I went to Napa once, to visit friends of Dad’s. There’s not much there though, except vineyards and a few Victorian houses.” It had seemed very dull to her, but she looked
intrigued as Spencer described the valley north of it, and she saw something in his eyes that aroused her curiosity. There was a look of remembering, a look that told her there was more to it than he was telling. “Do you have friends there?”

He nodded pensively. “Two of the men who served in the army with me live there.” He told her about Boyd and Hiroko then, and her eyes hardened as she listened.

“It was stupid of him to marry her. No one’s going to forget what happened in Japan.” She sounded spoiled and insensitive suddenly and it annoyed him. It was exactly the kind of reaction Hiroko had been faced with constantly since coming to California.

He spoke very quietly, barely concealing his anger. “I don’t suppose the Japanese will forget Hiroshima either.”

“Didn’t you say your brother was killed in the Pacific?” Her eyes honed in on him and he looked at her squarely.

“Yes, he was. But I don’t hate them for it. We did our own share of killing there.” It was a pacifist view she wasn’t familiar with, and it wasn’t in keeping with her father’s opinions. He was an ardent conservative, and he had fully approved of the bombing of Hiroshima. “I hated everything we did there, Elizabeth. No one wins a war, except maybe governments. The people always lose, on both sides.”

“I don’t share your view.” She looked prim and he tried to cool down by making light of it.

“I suppose you would have liked to join the army too.” Along with her longing to be an attorney or a politician.

“My mother worked for the Red Cross, and I would have, too, if I’d been old enough.”

He sighed. She was still so young, and so naive, and so influenced by what her parents thought. He had his own views about the war, which differed greatly from his father’s.
Spencer was only happy it was over, but he still remembered the friends he’d lost, the men who had served with him … and his brother. He looked at Elizabeth then, and he felt almost old enough to be her father, instead of only ten years older. “Life is funny, isn’t it, Elizabeth? You never know which way it’s going to go. If my brother hadn’t been killed, I might never have gone to law school,” he smiled quietly, “I might never have met you.”

“That’s a strange way to look at it.” She was intrigued by him. He was honest and gentle and intelligent, but not as ambitious as she would have wanted. He just seemed to be enjoying life as he rolled along, waiting to see which way it would take him. “We make our own destinies, don’t you think?”

“Not always.” He had seen too much reality to believe that. And if he had made his, his life might have been very different. “Do you think you’ll make yours?” He was as fascinated by her as she was by him. They were so very different.

“Probably.” She sounded sure of it, and he admired her for her confidence and determination.

“I believe you will, given half a chance.”

“Does that surprise you?” She looked so sure of herself, so unruffled, and so in control after the long evening.

“Not really. You seem like someone who’s always gotten what she’s wanted.”

“And you?” Her voice grew softer. “Have you been disappointed, Spencer?” She wondered if he’d lost someone he truly cared about, or had had a broken engagement, but he hadn’t.

He smiled before he answered her, thinking about it. “Not disappointed. Only rerouted, one might say,” and then he laughed openly as he poured the last of their champagne. The bar would be closing soon, and he
would have to take her back to her parents, or their suite anyway. They both knew the evening would go no further. “My parents wanted me to marry my brother’s wife when I came home, his widow, I should say. That was a bit of a go-around when I got home.”

“Why didn’t you?” She wanted to know everything about him.

He looked at her honestly. “I didn’t love her. That’s important to me. She was Robert’s wife, not mine. I’m not him. I’m someone very different.”

“And who’s that, Spencer?” Her voice was like a caress in the dark room as she searched his eyes, “what do you want?”

“Someone I love … and respect … and care about. Someone to laugh with when things go wrong … someone who’s not afraid to love me back … someone who needs me.” He felt very vulnerable as he said it to her, and he wasn’t sure why he had opened up to her. He wondered if Crystal would ever fit the bill. It wasn’t likely. It was odd how the memory of her stayed with him. She was a wildly beautiful girl, from a distant place. All he knew was how lovely and gentle she was, and how he felt when he was near her. He didn’t know what was inside her or what she thought, or who she would be once she was a grown-up. Nor did he know what was inside Elizabeth, but he suspected it wasn’t soft. She was made of sterner stuff, and he couldn’t imagine her ever needing anyone, except maybe her father. “If you had your way, what would you want, Elizabeth?”