The Marrying Kind (33 page)

"Oh... hello."

There stood almost the last person Libby expected to see today, Donovan's mother, wearing a buttoned up day dress of pale pink calico that screamed respectability.

Lil glanced from Libby to her guest, her expectant expression demanding an introduction. "Hello back, I guess."

"Oh, excuse me, Lil. This is Susan Savage."

Susan extended her hand. "I'm Donovan's half sister."

"Are you now?" Frowning, Lil ignored the young woman's attempt to shake her hand. "You don't look much like him."

Obviously sensing some hostility, Susan recoiled a little. "I've always been told that I favored my mother strongly."

Lil doubled up her fist and planted it on her hip. "So you're what she looked like, huh?"

Susan turned to Libby, her expression begging for a little help getting out of the awkward situation. The best Libby could do was finish the introduction. "Susan, this is Lil... well, just Lil, I guess. She's Donovan's—"

"Partner," Lil supplied, laying down her own rules. "Is he in?"

"No, sorry. You just missed him."

Looking thoughtful and disappointed, Lil exhaled heavily. "Are you two coming or going?"

"I was going," said Susan. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Lil, but I have a lot of important errands to run now." She turned to Libby and gave her arm a squeeze. "Thank you for trusting me. I'll come back as quickly as I can." And with that, she stepped around Lil and hurried down the walkway.

"Please come in," said Libby. "I've got fresh blueberry muffins waiting in the living room, and Gerda can have some hot tea ready for us in a minute."

After stepping into the foyer, Lil tugged off her white gloves and glanced around the house. "Where did Donovan get off to so early?"

"Today is his first day working at the publishing company." Until that moment, Libby hadn't realized that Donovan's mother did not know about his new position. Her lovely face blanched with surprise, then crumpled in pain. "He's an advertising solicitor," Libby added lamely.

"Is that a fact?" Looking beaten and a little lost, Lil wandered into the living room. "I guess I will have that tea if you've got the time. See if you can't talk Gerda into shaking a little whiskey into mine."

"I'll see what I can do. Make yourself comfortable." Libby dashed into the kitchen, gave Gerda her instructions, then hurried back into the living room. She found Lil standing near the corner cupboard fingering a pewter vase on one of the shelves.

"I decorated this place for him, you know." Her tone was solemn. She even didn't bother to turn and confirm that it was Libby who'd entered the room. "I chose the paint colors, the wallpaper, and even the matching chintz curtains."

"And you did a lovely job of it." Libby purposefully made the comment short and brusque. She did not want to discuss the wallpaper. Gesturing to the chair Susan had just vacated, the one which faced the west wall, not the bay window, she said, "Why don't you have a seat? Gerda will be in with the tea any time now."

Finally moving away from the cupboard, Lil failed to notice Libby's "directions." She crossed the room instead, and sagged down on the sofa, which would give her a perfect view of the missing wallpaper strip, should she choose to look there.

Taking the chair she'd offered the woman, Libby slid onto it as she tried to think of ways to lighten Lil's obviously dark mood and not incidentally, keep her distracted. "You're looking lovely today. Is that a new dress?"

Lil smirked, looking at Libby as if she'd grown two heads. "I came here to talk to Donovan about his father, not exchange mindless pleasantries."

Deflated more than offended—she did recall that bluntness, among other things, was a hallmark of Lil's personality—Libby lifted the plate of muffins and offered them as she said, "You seem to be a little sad today. I was just trying to cheer you up. Why don't you at least have a muffin?"

"Thanks, I'll take you up on that, but I don't think anything's going to make me feel better—not even if Donovan walked through that door about now." Lil studied the muffins a moment, then snatched the one most weighed down with berries. Settling it onto the napkin in her lap, she sighed heavily. "I probably couldn't have gotten through to him, even if he were here. He'd never believe the things I'd like to tell him about that father of his, especially since they've obviously gotten so close that he's working for the no-good son of a bitch."

Deeply interested in what Lil had to say about R. T., even if most of it stemmed from hurts of the past, Libby waited until after Gerda served two piping hot cups of tea to ask, "What kind of things were you thinking of telling Donovan?"

After dipping the corner of muffin she'd torn from the whole, Lil scooped it between her lips, and studied Libby closely as she chewed. She took a sip of tea, shuddering slightly, but looking pleased by the addition to her beverage. Then she took another sip, and asked, "What interest is R. T. to you?"

Picking at her own muffin, Libby popped a fat blueberry into her mouth, savored the juicy morsel a moment, then decided to trust Lil with the truth as she knew it. "We're not exactly what you'd call friends. In fact, if I were to choose one word to describe his feelings for me, I think 'hatred' would do it."

The bite of muffin Lil had just raised to her lips fell back down to her lap. "Explain. Tell me why you think R. T. hates you."

Normally, anyone who'd ordered Libby around this way would have gotten a good dose of nothing out of her. But in this case, she felt a certain bond forming, a sense that what they had to say to one another might just be woven with the same thread. "I had a meeting with R. T., his son Francis, and Donovan yesterday. We talked about my equal rights editorials, which they're all very opposed to, and a few other things. It wasn't exactly the words he used or even the way he said them, but I had the feeling the whole time he spoke to me that R. T. almost wished me dead."

"Humph." Lil shook her head in open contempt. "I think he's spent a minute or two wishing the same of me. Believe me, I know the look."

Encouraged by Lil's admission, Libby continued. "I also had the feeling that R. T. is very good at keeping his hatred inside, and that even when he lets it out, it seems to touch only the object of his hatred."

One sienna-brown eyebrow raised high, Lil encouraged, "Go on."

"I'm trying, but this is really hard to explain." She paused, picturing the moment when she'd first felt that malignant gaze burning into her—
through
her. "I would say that R. T. has eyes like a pair of dueling pistols—harmless enough when sheathed, even easy to ignore, until they're pointed at your head. Donovan sat right next to me in R. T.'s office yesterday, and never realized that his father had fired both guns at me. This may sound too crazy to you, but that's the best I can do to explain the way that man struck me."

"You make a hell of a lot of sense to me." Lil laughed, but it was a bitter, gravelly sound. "I don't know what took me so long to recognize those tendencies in Rand, but I do know exactly what you're saying about him."

"You do?" Libby perched on the edge of her chair. "Should I tell Donovan how I feel? After we left the office, he seemed really happy and, frankly, fond of his father. I was afraid to say anything for fear he'd—" Libby cut off her own words, realizing she was getting in a little deeper than she wanted to be, where her feelings about Donovan were concerned. "Well, anyway, I didn't say much. I didn't want to upset him."

The look the woman shot her gave Libby the impression that her thoughts had been transparent. But Lil didn't make any comment about her observations. She just smiled and said, "Let me tell you what I know about Rand and men in general, and then we'll decide what we should tell Donovan, and what we should keep to ourselves. Deal?"

Libby nodded and sank back against her chair, not merely skimming the velvet fabric as Susan would have, but crushing it with her buckskin vest. "Deal."

"Rand—R. T.—stopped by to see me a couple of nights ago. He got the idea that we ought to pick up where we'd left off so long ago." Lil paused to pick at a few muffin crumbs on her napkin. "If he'd a just asked me outright, I like to think I'd a said no, but, well, dear, it's been a long time since I've been with any man, much less the one I never could turn away, and ah..." She looked up, staring Libby right in the eye. "I realize you haven't been around much, and probably have pretty virginal ears to go with the rest of you. I'll try not to offend you, but let me warn you now—I'm not much good in the tact department."

Libby had to glance away from the woman—after all, this was Donovan's mother—but she did manage to admit, "My
ears
aren't quite as virginal these days as they once were."

"Oh? Just your ears?"

Libby willed, prayed, and threatened her insides in no uncertain terms, but when she heard Lil's lusty chuckle, she knew her cheeks had turned a traitorous shade of crimson anyway.

"Really ?
You mean you and Donovan are sweating up the sheets?"

"Oh, God." Rolling her eyes, Libby tried to think of an amusing or carefree response—never mind striving for glib—but her mind was a complete blank.

Her amusement still ringing in her tone, Lil commented, "And you're still here. Imagine that." She paused, giving Libby hope that she planned to move on to another topic, but the woman did not let go of the subject. "Has he tried to throw you out lately, or at least since you two—"

"No." At last, words formed on Libby's tongue. "In fact, he keeps thinking of crazy excuses to make me stay, but—"

"Really?
Hmmm." Lil tapped the tip of her chin with her fingernail. "How very interesting."

"Excuse me, ma'am—Lil, but we weren't talking about me and Donovan. I thought we were discussing him and his father. What happened after R. T. came to see you."

A knowing smile continued to ripple across Lil's lips, but she went ahead with the former conversation as if she'd never deviated from it. "Rand sweet-talked me a little at first, then he came round the desk and put his hands on me. Let me tell you sugar, I melted like a snowflake in hell." She cut loose with a bawdy chuckle. "I do hope you have some idea how that feels."

Blushing again, Libby had to look away, but not for long. Lil's tone changed abruptly and her voice became tinny, with a good bit of anger, as she went on with her story.

"But I was a fool that night, a complete imbecile, to have let Rand back in my life for even those few moments of pleasure. I had nothing afterwards, certainly nothing of him. Other than getting screwed, I got exactly the same thing I'd gotten from him before—a big fat zero."

Touched deeply by those last words, and imagining herself in the same situation, Libby went numb inside. "Does Donovan know about R. T.'s visit with you?"

"No, of course not—at least, not as far as I know." Lil went on spinning her tale, apparently unaware that Libby's interest had turned morbid. "That's not what I came to tell Donovan. I wanted him to know that R. T. came back again last night, and that this time, I was strong. The moment I set eyes on him, I remembered how he'd used me all those years ago, and that no good would come of this now."

Her hand shaking, Lil paused to reach for her tea. After finishing the contents of the cup, she went on. "I realized there was no way in hell that arrogant asshole was ever going to leave his gold-plated, frigid-assed society wife for me. He didn't do it when he was married to the ugly bitch who bore his legitimate children, and he wasn't about to do it now."

Her ears burning in spite of her "altered" state, Libby asked, "What did he say when you told him to go? I'll bet he didn't like it much."

"An understatement, dearie, because no one tells R. T. Savage what to do. But since I'd made up my mind not to be used by him a second time, I told him to get the hell out of my life once and for all, and never to darken my door again." She paused dramatically, narrowed one eye, and unbuttoned the bodice of her dress. "As you guessed, he wasn't interested in taking no for an answer. You might say we got into it a little." She pulled the material apart, baring the tops of her breasts. "R. T. just hates the word 'no'."

When Libby saw that the skin there and around Lil's throat was mottled with bright blue bruises and long red welts, she couldn't stifle a gasp of horror. "Oh, my God, Lil. He didn't... force himself on you, did he?"

"No, but rape was definitely on his mind."

R. T. Savage was as big as his son. Just from some of the horseplay she and Donovan had shared, Libby knew she could never match such strength, should he ever turn on her. How had Lil fought his father off? "Did you have a gun or something? How on earth did you stop him?"

"I have a gun all right, but it didn't do me much good with Rand. It was in a drawer and I was pinned against the wall." This time, when Lil laughed, the sound was almost jolly. "I did the only thing I could do—I relied on the same protection I use every night. Whenever I have a visitor, especially a male, Seamus's main job is to station himself right outside my door until I come out or call for him. Last night is only the second time I've ever had to 'wake the sleeping giant.' But I can tell you, I was sure happy to find him at his post."

"Then I imagine it didn't take too much for Seamus to convince R. T. to leave."

Again Lil laughed, the deep worry lines around her eyes, softening. "If you recall the size and strength of my bouncer, I would say that he convinced him in spades. I doubt I'll have to sic Seamus on Randolph Savage again."

Muttering more to herself than Lil, Libby mused, "My God. I'm no better off than you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

In a bit of a daze, only half listening to Lil, tears filled Libby's eyes as she muttered, "Donovan. Last night. I tried to send him away. I did try, but he, he..."

"I hope you don't expect me to believe my son tried to rape you." Lil sat forward on the edge of her seat, her spine rigid. "Donovan's not like that at all. He would never do such a terrible thing."

"Hum?" Libby blinked, shaking herself out of the trance. "No—oh, no. I didn't mean to say that at all."