Читать книгу Sins of Omission - Fern Michaels - Страница 15

Mickey hadn’t slept all night. Even now, with dawn just minutes away, she still couldn’t sleep.

It was all due, she knew, to Bebe’s imminent arrival that afternoon. The three of them would go to the depot to meet the girl. Beyond the initial meeting and a beautifully planned dinner, she’d made no plans.

Since sleep was out of the question, she knew she should get up and go to the kitchen to make an herb poultice for her eyes. With luck she could diminish the dark circles Reuben had noticed the night before. After arguing with herself for a good fifteen minutes, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, then debated a moment over which robe to wear, the ruffled filmy one or the warm flannel. Since it was early she opted for the warm one. As she padded down the carpeted stairs, she scolded herself. She was a mature woman, knowledgeable in the ways of the world. One slip of a girl shouldn’t be having this effect on her. Ah, but when it comes to matters of the heart, there are no rules, she told herself. Emotions, she had discovered, were the single thing upon which one should never rely.

Mickey rattled around in the kitchen, making more noise than she intended. When the old housekeeper appeared at her elbow, she jumped in surprise and almost squealed her fright. The old woman shooed her to a spot at the table and placed a cup in front of her. Coffee would be ready soon, she said, and she herself would make the poultice since Madame either used too much or too little of the dry herbs. Miracles could not undo days of damage to delicate eyes, the old woman grumbled under her breath.

At eight o’clock Mickey was at the breakfast table waiting for Daniel and Reuben. She’d bathed and donned one of her favorite dresses, designed just for her by Coco—a deep burgundy wool jersey with huge pearl buttons down the bodice and on the sleeves. The hemline was shorter than fashion decreed, but Coco had said she had beautiful ankles and should show them off. Her hose matched the dress, as did her shoes. Jewelry, Coco had advised, would ruin her magnificent creation; sheer elegance did not require jewelry, she’d emphasized impatiently, her spritelike body and little hands in constant motion. Power was the ultimate aphrodisiac. Mickey had been in a hurry the day she’d picked up the dress, and while she’d promised not to wear jewelry, she hadn’t understood what Coco had meant about the aphrodisiac…until this moment.

The depot was a cacophony of noise when the train from Le Havre pulled into the station. Steam hissed and whistled through the air, blocking visibility for the Three Musketeers. Departing passengers jostled one another, some good-naturedly, others angrily. There were mountains of luggage everywhere. Mickey found herself looking for the most expensive trunks, the most elegant chapeau boxes, and when she sighted them she didn’t need to see the name Barbara Rosen engraved on the handles to know to whom they belonged. There were seven trunks and nine hatboxes. A wry smile tugged at the corners of Mickey’s mouth. There were times when she herself had traveled with just as much for as little as ten days—a trunk of shoes, one for lingerie, another for daytime dresses, and one for evening wear; still another case for purses and evening bags, at least two for furs depending on the season, and the last one for casual wear, those outfits of which one was uncertain.

Mickey sucked in her breath. If Bebe was anything like she was, she would wait for the crowd to disperse, then disembark from the train looking bored and put out, pouting at the inconvenience of travel. Instead of allowing her coterie of young admiring men to help, Bebe would expect Mickey and her guests to do her bidding. Daniel would be of little help because of his recently mended shoulder; it would be up to Reuben to carry the heavy trunks unless she could prevail upon a porter. And so far all of them appeared to be occupied—the price one paid for making a grand exit.

When at last Bebe stepped onto the platform, Mickey’s first thought was that the girl looked ridiculous in her oversize fur coat and teetering high heels. A child playing at sophistication. Her second thought was that the young girl was probably the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A swirling cloud of vapor enveloped all of them for a second, giving Mickey the time she needed to orient herself. When she could see clearly she called to Bebe. “Chérie, over here!”

Hearing Mickey’s voice, Bebe drew in a deep breath, then loosened the heavy fur and shrugged it back the way she’d seen some of the actresses do in her father’s films. She felt a little silly as she advanced toward her aunt. Her eyes went immediately to Reuben and Daniel, then back to Reuben. Handymen? Servants of some sort? The tall one with the black hair was handsome as the devil himself. Sol would probably cut off his right arm to get him into a film. In the blink of an eye she sized up both men. The second time she blinked she decided she wanted the dark-haired one for herself. If her friends in California could see this man, they’d drop in a faint. He was just the type they all said they were going to marry someday. Hmmm, marriage? She concentrated on the tall man, willing him to meet her gaze. He didn’t seem the least bit interested in her. Well, she thought, shrugging, time would take care of that.

The younger and shorter of the two was mesmerized by her, she could tell, but the taller one had eyes only for Mickey, and there was something in his gaze she had never seen before. Something strange squeezed at her heart, and in that fleeting moment she wondered if she was making a mistake in choosing the party-girl role. It wasn’t too late to play Barbara Rosen. Look at me and smile a greeting, Bebe pleaded silently. He turned then, a smile on his lips—but it wasn’t for her, it was over something her aunt had said to him. Their eyes met, his bored and indifferent, hers challenging and determined. Excitement raced through her when he looked away. Bebe prided herself on her knowledge of young men. This one would never, ever want someone like the real Barbara Rosen. At once she made up her mind to have him. Bebe Rosen, party girl, rushed to her aunt, but not before she favored Reuben with a wicked grin. “Think about that,” she muttered under her breath.

“You’re all grown-up, chérie,” Mickey cooed against Bebe’s smooth, satiny cheek. Reuben heard the last whispered word “almost,” and smiled.

“Tante Mickey, how wonderful it is to be here. You’re as beautiful as the last time I saw you…only older,” Bebe countered in response. She glanced at Reuben. “But we’re forgetting our manners, Tante. Introduce me to these fine-looking gentlemen.”

“But of course. chérie. You Americans are so…impatient. Bebe, this Reuben Tarz, and the other smiling young man is Daniel Bishop. My houseguests. Ah, I finally see a porter. Wait here for me, chérie, I’ll return in minutes. Entertain this young lady while I’m gone,” she said to Reuben and Daniel.

Reuben’s eyes narrowed. Had the others picked up the tremor in Mickey’s voice, he wondered. Bebe Rosen was responsible for that tremor, and he himself was feeling strange, almost out of his depth. He felt a vague sense of fear. Not the kind he’d felt during the war—this was different, and so unexpected he couldn’t define it. His gut told him that some way, somehow, this girl was going to damage his relationship with Mickey. A troublemaker, he was sure of it. Anger at his own inability to be tolerant of the girl and at the sappy expression on Daniel’s face made him clench his jaw, afraid he would say something that would in some way hurt Mickey. He made up his mind then: he did not like Bebe Rosen’s bright eyes and creamy skin, he didn’t like her youthful figure and calculating smile. He did not like Bebe Rosen, period. Commenting snidely to Mickey about aging…The girl reminded him of a baby shark, all glittery eyes and sharp teeth. And Mickey had heard her, of that he had no doubt. The little snit should be put in her place, and at once, but the chances of that were almost nil. Mickey would handle things in her own sweet way, which meant Bebe would get away with her obnoxious behavior. And she’d ruin everything, bit by bit…day by day. He did his best to stifle the rage building inside him.

“From the looks of your luggage you must be planning to stay for some time,” he said coolly.

“As long as it takes,” Bebe said just as coolly.

“Takes for what?”

“Why, to get to know all of you. How long have you been…guests of my aunt? And for God’s sake let’s all talk English. My French is so rusty, everything I say comes out as ‘Pick up the pencil.’” Daniel threw back his head and laughed uproariously. Reuben grimaced.

“Well?” Bebe demanded.

“Well what?” Reuben said gruffly. It was almost impossible for him to believe that this painted doll standing before him—this mannequin in ridiculous shoes—had just turned sixteen. With some small measure of consolation he remembered Bebe wasn’t really Mickey’s niece, but a cousin. It made a difference. In France, Mickey told him, cousins, especially young ones, used the term “aunt” out of respect.

Returning to the platform with a porter, Mickey caught the flinty look in Reuben’s eyes and felt her heart soar. So, he didn’t much care for Bebe Rosen. It was difficult for Reuben to hide his emotions; it was suddenly apparent that he also had a temper, something she’d decided they needed to improve upon but not just yet. Daniel was more open, and he seemed to be enjoying a sprightly conversation with Bebe as her bags were loaded into the car.

“Bebe, you and Daniel will sit in the back and Reuben and I will be in the front. Reuben will drive.”

“Does he double as chauffeur?” Bebe asked sarcastically.

“Heck, no,” Daniel interjected. “Reuben just learned to drive, and he’s doing it for the experience. You know, the more you do something, the better you get at it.”

“Imagine that,” Bebe said quietly.

Sitting directly behind Reuben, cramped between Daniel and hatboxes. Bebe noticed Reuben’s stiff shoulders and how his head didn’t move an inch as he guided the big car down the roads. She listened to Mickey and Daniel prattle on about the château and their Christmas plans and all the things they were going to do. Every now and then she nodded or interjected a word; the rest of the time she tried to figure out who Reuben and Daniel were and how they fit into the picture. Guests could mean many things—working guests, guests on a temporary basis, and guests that did…other things.

Bebe knew she could have Daniel and maybe even her aunt eating out of her hand in a day’s time, but Reuben would probably bite that hand off and toss it back to her. She wondered why. No one had ever taken such an instant dislike to her before, Reuben made her feel that she was infringing. But on what and on whom?

The tall American was her aunt’s lover, she was sure now. Just the thought of the good-looking man in her aunt’s bed made her angry. She was so…so old, almost as old as her father, who was at least fifty. Sixteen-year-old logic questioned her aunt’s right to take a young lover.

For the first time since getting into the Citroën, Bebe looked out the window. All she saw was trees and fall desolation. Her stomach churned as the car bounced over ruts in the road. Where in the name of God did her aunt live? In America she would have called this place the boondocks,

“How much farther is it, Aunt Mickey?”

“Kilometrage? Perhaps…dix,” Mickey said.

“Please, Aunt Mickey, talk to me in English. I know only a few words of French—and before you offer to teach me, let me tell you that I really don’t want to learn. I don’t ever see myself using your language in the future.” She hadn’t meant to sound so surly, but there was no way to retract the words now.

Reuben bit down on his tongue to stop a sharp retort. The girl was after all Mickey’s guest, and it wasn’t his place to chastise her. Maybe he should simply ignore her comments and say something positive…but what? He unclamped his jaw. “You could take a nap if you don’t care for the view. You must be tired after your long trip.” He could sense Mickey smiling next to him. She was pleased with his response. He felt better immediately.

Bebe blinked and flushed a bright pink. She waited a moment to see if Mickey would endorse Reuben’s words. She wished she hadn’t noticed the sly smile on her aunt’s face. He must be smiling, too. She turned to Daniel and spotted a cigarette case peeking from his pocket. “Give me one of those cigarettes,” she said in a choked voice.

Once again Reuben bit down on his lip. Bebe was too young to smoke, but he knew Daniel, gentleman that he was, would not refuse her. He let out his breath with a quiet sigh when Mickey spoke. “Chérie, you are much too young to be smoking. And I’d rather no one smoked in the car…it leaves an odor for days. Would you mind, terribly?” she said, turning in her seat. She smiled to take the sting out of the request.

“No, of course not,” Bebe said reluctantly.

“Sometimes,” Mickey said kindly, “this trip can be very boring, especially if one is driving alone. Today there are four of us, and we should be happy. I’m delighted you are here and hope you will enjoy staying with us. We do have a routine and there are certain rules. I don’t think they’ll pose a problem, but if they do, we can talk about it.”

“What kind of rules?” Bebe asked haughtily. She was being put in her place, an outsider, a visitor. Damn. She risked a glance at the boy sitting next to her, and their eyes met. Daniel smiled and Bebe found herself returning his smile.

“Simple rules. There is the matter of privacy. The use of the bathroom, mealtime. Nothing major, more a show of consideration for others. I don’t anticipate a problem, do you, chérie?”

“Of course,” she said quietly. Not to agree would be ridiculous.

Reuben wanted to turn in his seat and swat the girl, and he didn’t know why. She was going to be a handful as well as an interloper. He stopped the car to allow a farmer leading four cows to cross the road, then pivoted to get a better look at the invader in his life. “Have you ever seen a cow before?” he asked quietly.

Bebe stared into the clearest, grayest eyes she’d ever seen. His jaw, she thought, looked as though it were chiseled from quarry stone. “Wh-what was the question again?”

“I asked you if you’d ever seen a cow. Those four-legged animals are cows the farmer is leading across the road. They give milk.” He thought at that moment that she looked like a frightened bird fresh from its nest instead of the hellcat who had stepped into the car. What could she possibly be frightened of, he wondered.

“No…I me an yes, in…California,” Bebe stammered.

Reuben smiled, a winsome, boyish smile that sent chills up Bebe’s arms. “Those are California cows…these are French cows.”

Mickey fidgeted on her seat. This exchange of conversation was unexpected. Eye contact between a male and a female was all-important, and she wasn’t imagining the heightened awareness the two had of each other. Something was slipping away from her, something she couldn’t grasp. There was friction developing between the two young people, and if there was one thing she didn’t want, it was to be placed in the role of peacemaker. That would only call attention to her age, and she would come out the loser. God, why did this child have to come here now, when things were so perfect? Why couldn’t she have waited until later to visit France? Mickey sighed. It was her own fault: she could have said no to Sol. Now there was nothing any of them could do but be hospitable to the girl.

The rest of the trip was made in silence. When the powerful car drove through the village, Bebe gasped. Reuben smiled. “This is our closest town. I don’t imagine this quaint village is anything like Hollywood, but it’s all we have to offer. You will come to love it as we do.” Reuben smirked. The girl’s gasp had been one of horror—not pleasure. In a pig’s eye she would come to love it. “You’ll get to meet the entire village at Christmas. We’re looking forward to it. It will be a pleasant break from lessons.” A malicious smile tugged at his lips when he heard her mutter, “Bastard!” under her breath.

“Not really.” Daniel grinned. “He’s my best friend and a hell of a nice guy. You have to get to know Reuben; he doesn’t make friends easily.”

Bebe glared at him. “You are, of course, entitled to your opinion. I think he’s a shmuck.”

“What’s a shmuck?” Daniel asked.

Reuben’s eyesight might have been poor, but there was nothing wrong with his hearing, even if Daniel was keeping his voice down. “A shmuck is someone to be pitied or despised. At least she didn’t call me a shlemiel. They’re Yiddish words, Daniel. Unflattering, to say the least, but we can mark them up to Miss Rosen’s fatigue.” Daniel found himself grinning. Miss Rosen’s stay was going to be anything but dull.

“We’re home, chérie. This,” Mickey said, waving her hands about, “is my château. Your father fell in love with it when he was here many years ago. He had to drag your mother away; she wanted to stay forever.”

It was on the tip of Bebe’s tongue to say that wouldn’t happen to her. She’d cut out of this place the first chance she got. And go where? she thought sourly. She’d imagined Christmas would be spent in Paris; Sol had told her Mickey always spent Christmas in Paris. Just another lie from the old man so she would do what he wanted.

Reuben held the door for Bebe as she climbed out. He bowed gallantly, a wicked grin on his face, and she suppressed the urge to kick him. “What about my trunks?” she asked sweetly.

“What about them?”

“Who’s going to bring them up to my room?”

Reuben leaned against the car. “It’s like this, Miss Bebe. Daniel has a bad shoulder. I have a bad leg. Your trunks weigh tons. What I suggest is you unpack in the barn and carry your things upstairs. We can all help.”

“My father said you had servants!” Bebe whined to Mickey.

“At one time I did, and then the war came. Now I have only a cook and a housekeeper.”

Reuben felt his anger rise in defense of Mickey and struggled to keep his tone civil and even. “We all pitch in here. We hope you’ll do the same. What would you like to do first? See your room, freshen up and then take the contents of your trunks upstairs, or vice versa?”

“But it will take at least a hundred trips!” Bebe cried.

“Not that many, chérie, if we all help. Come along and I’ll show you to your room.” Bebe glared at Reuben but followed her aunt meekly.

“Jesus, Reuben, what was that all about?” Daniel demanded when the women were out of earshot.

“Mickey’s been upset about Bebe’s arrival. Couldn’t you tell? That girl is a spoiled brat, Daniel. I don’t want her taking advantage of Mickey. Do you?” he demanded.

“Hell no. Look, maybe she’s just scared. She’s new to France, and I bet she’s bone-tired from the crossing and then the train ride. Maybe you should go easy on her, she is just a kid.”

“That one tired!” Reuben guffawed. “She’s not tired, she’s plain old nasty. She’s going to be trouble, and I can see now why Mickey was so—” Reuben stopped himself from saying “afraid,” even though he believed it to be true. “So worried.”

“She’s pretty,” Daniel said shyly.

“No. Daniel, she’s beautiful. When Mickey was her age I bet she looked just like her except her hair is dark. They have the same high cheekbones and the same straight nose. The only thing is, I don’t think Mickey was ever like Bebe. And she was already married at that age. I don’t like her,” Reuben said. “And for some ungodly reason she brings out the worst in me.”

“First impressions aren’t always sound, you should know that. All I’m saying is to give the girl a chance.”

“And all I’m saying to you is keep your hands off her. She’s trouble.” Reuben could see Daniel bristling. He’d never given orders before. “She’d chew you up and spit you out in two minutes. I hope you listen.” He placed a gentle hand on Daniel’s shoulder to take the sting out of his words. “Come on, we can at least get started by carrying in some of these hatboxes.”

No sooner had the front door closed behind them than they heard Bebe shout from upstairs. “Only one bathroom? You mean we all have to share it, to take turns?”

They were just in time to see Mickey throw her hands in the air and stalk to her room. “I’m going to change my clothes and I’ll be down to help shortly,” she called over her shoulder.

“Don’t bother, we’ll take care of it…get some rest,” Reuben said. He and Daniel dumped the hatboxes in the middle of Bebe’s room. “Come on, we’re not doing it all.” Reuben told her sourly. “They’re your trunks.”

Bebe turned to follow Reuben and almost fell. He swung around, grabbed her, and carried her to the bed, where he dumped her in a heap. “It might be a good idea to take off those shoes. You’ll kill yourself on the stones and gravel.” He waited a moment until the outrage on her face had faded. She had nice legs, that much he noticed, and she smelled rather good, flowery and sweet. When she made no move to take off the bright red heels, he left to ask Mickey for a pair of serviceable shoes Bebe could wear temporarily. He handed them to the girl, who contemplated them with disgust.

“These are at least three sizes too big. Whose are they?” she demanded. “And they’re the ugliest things I’ve ever seen.”

“They’ll serve the purpose for the moment,” Reuben snapped. “You’d do well to pay attention to the way a real lady dresses—and I’m talking about your aunt. If you want to pretend to be grown-up, then behave like a grown-up.”

“Just how old are you?” Bebe demanded sarcastically.

“I’m four years older than you. I’ll be twenty-one in another month. Is there anything else you want to know?”

“Yes,” Bebe sneered. “How does it feel to be twenty years old and a gigolo?” The minute the words were out of her mouth she was sorry.

“What did you say?” Reuben said through clenched teeth.

“No-nothing. I’m sorry,” Bebe muttered. God, if she’d been home and said the same thing to one of her brother Eli’s friends, she’d be missing her front teeth and have two black eyes. “I said I was sorry. Let’s just drop it.”

“You ever say that to me again, you’ll regret it,” Reuben said coldly.

Daniel stared at them, his mouth dropping in surprise. Something fluttered in his chest. You didn’t ever cross Reuben Tarz.

Twelve trips later, Reuben was about to close the barn door when Bebe approached him, hands on hips, lips pulled back angrily. “What about my trunks? You aren’t going to leave them here, are you? They’ll smell and get all black and moldy.”

“As a matter of fact, I am leaving them here. If you want to carry them to the house and up that narrow stairway, then do it. Nothing will happen to your trunks here.” The urge to slap this petulant brat was so strong, Reuben had to clench his fists to keep from doing just that.

“You…you…you’re hateful!” Bebe cried. “How can my aunt stand you? She doesn’t look desperate for companionship. My father—”

“Your father has nothing to do with this conversation, so let’s leave him out of it. I’d like to close the barn door if you don’t mind.” What he really wanted to do was put his hands around her neck and strangle her.

Bebe felt tears sting her eyes. She wanted to reach out to the young man with the cold eyes and say she was sorry; they got off to a bad start and…it was all her fault. And she would have said those things if Reuben hadn’t reached out to take her arm and lead her from the shadowy barn. She completely misread his intention, thinking he was going to strike her.

“Take your hands off me! When I want to be manhandled, it won’t be by someone like you.” She felt a second prick of fear when Reuben turned to her, back stiff and gray eyes dark with anger. “You should do something about that temper of yours,” she blurted out, “before it explodes and hurts the people around you.”

Reuben turned and began to walk away.

“You’ve just met me and already you hate me,” Bebe yelled after him. “I’ve seen you fighting with yourself not to pound away at me. I’m tired, I’m hungry, and I need a bath. I’d like to call a truce.”

An alien sound escaped Reuben’s lips, but he kept on walking.

Bebe was right behind him. “Did you hear what I said? What’s wrong with you? You’re still angry, and that’s stupid. You’re not grown-up at all, because if you were, you’d be able to handle any situation, and that includes this one. You’re a boy trying to act like a man and probably fucking my aunt!”

Reuben pulled up short, and Bebe slammed against his back. She tried to back away, but he reached for her. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware of her slender shoulders, her sweet scent. But overpowering everything was an anger so intense that he actually felt the beginning of an erection. It stunned him. “You,” he said slowly, enunciating each word carefully, “disgust me. And if you were the last woman on earth, I wouldn’t fuck you. The man hasn’t been born who would want anything to do with you.” With that, he gathered every ounce of strength he could muster to drop his hands and stalk back to the house.

Bebe took off the oversize shoes and raced after him. “If you think you’re getting the last word, you’re mistaken. I find you incredibly arrogant and obnoxious, and my aunt must be insane to have anything to do with you. You’re nasty, you’re inconsiderate, and you are so hateful you make me want to puke.” She made a gagging sound in her throat. “Furthermore, I wouldn’t let you touch me if you got down on your knees and begged me. You, Reuben Tarz, disgust me!”

She gave Reuben a shove that sent him sprawling in the dirt and then fled to the house, certain he would follow and beat the living daylights out of her. She was sobbing as she gathered her things together for the bathroom, and it wasn’t until the door was locked behind her that she felt safe.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Why was she always doing the wrong thing at the wrong time? Maybe she deserved Reuben’s words in some way. She knew better, and still she’d gone ahead and baited him. Why couldn’t she ever keep her mouth shut? Obviously Reuben had a vicious temper and knew how to be as nasty as she. But she’d also seen a glimmer of something in his eyes, something she’d seen in other young men’s eyes, back in California: arousal.

“Lights! Camera! Action! Cut!” she muttered, her tearful face turning thoughtful. She stepped into the hot tub. Later she would think about her next performance, but not until she was sure where she’d gone wrong in the barn.

A warm bath always made everything right. Bebe hummed the words to a popular song as she lathered herself. When she was soaped from head to toe, she craned her neck to examine herself in the long pier glass across from the tub. If I truly make up my mind to go after you, Reuben Tarz, you aren’t going to have a prayer of escaping me. If I make up my mind…

Reuben stormed his way into the house, slamming the door behind him so hard the handle rattled. What in the hell was happening to him? How could one young girl upset his life like this? He’d reacted to her instead of ignoring her as he’d promised himself he would. He’d been so happy—they’d all been happy. Until today. Perhaps he was too sensitive, too protective of Mickey. But Mickey was just too goddamned important to him, and no little snot from California was going to interfere.

Once in his room, Reuben could feel the tension ease between his shoulder blades. His heart stopped its furious thudding, and the pounding in his head gave way to a dull ache he could live with. He knew if he lay down and closed his eyes for fifteen minutes, he’d be a fit dinner companion who could laugh and smile and carry on a decent conversation.

But willing his mind to blankness was impossible, Reuben decided. His thoughts were on Bebe Rosen, a serpent in his Garden of Eden. Then he remembered his erection. Angrily he beat his fists into the plump pillow. This was only the first day of her visit and already he was like a wild dog trying to catch its tail.

Suddenly the room was too confining, the pillow too soft for rest, his thoughts too wild. His leg was aching like a son of a bitch, the sure sign of a change in weather. Snow, probably. He could hardly wait to get into a hot tub.

He began to strip down, folding his clothes neatly at the foot of the bed. He took dress trousers and a snowy-white shirt from his armoire, then paid careful attention to his tie, finally picking one that Mickey especially liked. In just a little while he’d be sitting next to her at the table. Later on they’d make love.

He was happy and he was contented, a feeling he’d never experienced until he had come to this château. And it wasn’t just the physical side of their relationship that contented him. It was being near Mickey, taking her hand at odd moments, her light touch as she walked by him. Their eyes meeting and speaking a language only the two of them understood. The warm smiles, the gentle touches, their total commitment to each other. That’s what was making him what he was.

Reuben’s stomach rumbled. The clock on the mantel told him he was already late taking his bath; he’d have to hurry if he wanted to make dinner on time.

The bathroom door was locked. Reuben knocked, knowing as his knuckles touched the polished wood that he wasn’t going to like what he heard.

“Yes?”

“It’s Reuben. How much longer will you be?”

“Hours!” the voice answered gaily.

“That’s too long.” Reuben called through the door. “Daniel and I both have to bathe, and dinner is in an hour. Please hurry.”

“Oh, poo. I can’t hurry. You’ll just have to wait. I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

Reuben could feel his shoulders tighten again. If dinner was delayed, the lamb would be dry and tough. Mickey liked things done on time, and so did he. They’d established a routine, and now this intruder was trying to change things.

“I’ll give you exactly fifteen minutes. If you aren’t out of there by then, I’ll take the door from its hinges. I’m counting as of now.”

Reuben rolled his eyes at the squeal of outrage that shrilled through the door. He turned to see Daniel approaching with his towel and robe.

“Are we having a problem?”

“We’ll know in fifteen minutes,” Reuben said flatly. “I guess we’re going to have to set up a schedule for using the tub. Everything was so peaceful till she arrived. I detest her.”

Daniel’s thoughts whirled. So what if the girl took a little longer in the bathroom? As far as he knew, none of them had told her she had a time limit. Reuben did have a point about the schedule; he liked things done on schedule, too, but he was realist enough to know that extenuating circumstances prevailed from time to time. “In a day or so she’ll get the hang of the way we do things here. Getting angry isn’t going to solve anything. So I’ll take my bath later, after dinner. I don’t mind in the least.” He changed the subject when he noticed Reuben stiffen. “It feels a little like snow, doesn it?”

Reuben nodded. Daniel always made sense. He couldn’t let this child get to him. Obviously she was one of those cats who liked to stir up trouble out of pure spite. “My leg’s been aching all day. That’s why I was so eager to soak. Is your shoulder bothering you?”

“Aching like your leg. I guess winter weather is finally here. The windowpanes downstairs are starting to frost over. I don’t know if I’m glad or sorry.”

“Hell, Daniel, let’s not be sorry about anything except maybe that spoiled brat in there.” Reuben jerked his thumb toward the bathroom door. “Did you have Christmas at the orphanage?”

“Well, sure, but it wasn’t like a family Christmas. We had a tree that we all got to decorate with popcorn and berries and a few ornaments. I always wanted to know what Christmas was like with a family. Jake said it wasn’t much. He said they didn’t even have a tree unless one of his older brothers stole it, and even then it wasn’t any good because they didn’t have anything to hang on it. He said it smelled good, though.”

Reuben swallowed hard at the mention of Daniel’s boyhood friend. He hadn’t forgotten the dog Daniel wanted to call Jake. “Well, this year we’ll both know what it’s like. Let’s cross our fingers that Miss Uppity in there doesn’t spoil it.”

“Reuben, do we have enough money left to get a present for her?”

“Yeah, we have something left. We’ll ask Mickey what to get for her. I understand the principle of giving. Don’t worry.” Reuben checked his watch and banged his fist on the door. “Your time is up!” he called out.

“Go away! If you had a time limit, you should have told me. I got here first!” Bebe cried childishly.

“I’m going to count to five, and if you aren’t out of there, the door goes down and you’ll fix it. One! Two! Three!” The formidable grin on Reuben’s face puzzled Daniel.

Bebe hopped from the tub and wrapped herself in a huge towel. She stomped to the door and threw back the bolt. “You are a goddamn bully, Reuben Tarz.” She tried to shoulder past him, but he blocked her way.

“No, no, no. You drain the water, wipe out the tub, and take all your junk out of here. Now!”

“Kiss my ass!” Bebe cried angrily. Again she tried to shoulder her way past Reuben.

“Mickey’s cook is too old to clean up after you. I’m certainly not going to do it, and Daniel can’t stretch his shoulder that far. Mickey is your hostess, so we all know you’d never expect her to do it. That leaves you! As for kissing your ass…forget it.” He turned to Daniel and winked. “It must be something they do in California.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Bebe grasped the towel around her as she tried to drain the water and clean the tub at the same time. The moment the towel started to slip, Reuben and Daniel discreetly withdrew. Reuben shook his head with disapproval as Bebe’s curses filtered out to the hallway.

“Where did she learn words like that?” Daniel asked, shocked.

Reuben snorted. “California, land of sunshine and decadence.”

When Bebe finished her chore she stormed past them, eyes blazing. Back in her room, she sat down on her bed with a thump. She let the tears flow, not caring that her eyes would be puffy and red. Who was going to see her but her aunt and those two officious clods?

And where in hell was her aunt? Leaving everything up to her lover, that’s where she was. Hiding out. Afraid to face her. Ashamed to face her, probably. Bebe blew her nose lustily, then threw the lace-edged handkerchief carelessly into the corner.

The room was a mess, her clothes in heaps on the floor, her shoes scattered all over. It would take days to sort through everything and place it in the armoires. She really doubted the furnishings would hold all her belongings, and she’d die before she’d ask the others for extra drawers or closet space. She’d had enough humiliation today to last the rest of her life.

This was a fend-for-yourself operation. There would be no one to pick up after her, no one for her to order about. If she wanted something, she’d damn well get it herself or learn to do without. Wait till her friends in California found out she was forced to clean the bathtub! Of course, the only way they would ever know was if she told them.

She was so hungry she felt like she could eat a horse, hooves and all. She looked wildly for something to wear. Helter-skelter, the clothing flew as she searched out her underwear and stockings. She pulled and tugged until she found a wrinkled yellow dress with a high neckline. It looked demure and virginal with its little lace collar and cuffs. She searched through the pile of clothing until she found a pair of shoes with a sensible pair of heels. “Clod!” she muttered.

Bebe stared at her damp hair. The curling ringlets would never dry. The best she could do was fluff it out with her fingers and hope it didn’t mat, making her head look like a ball with fuzz on it. It would take her hours, maybe even days, to find the makeup case that held her perfume and powder. She’d go to dinner with a shiny, well-scrubbed face. She’d keep quiet and speak only when spoken to. And the first time the chance presented itself, she’d kick Reuben square in the groin. The thought lightened her mood considerably. She tripped into the library, where Mickey was pouring wine into four glasses.

It was a pleasant enough evening, and by ten o’clock Mickey was ready to call a halt to the long day. “Come along, Bebe, we will go upstairs together. I know you must be exhausted from your travels. I can assure you a wonderful night’s sleep on my goose down bed. Tomorrow you will feel refreshed, and possibly, if I am right, you will go for a walk in the snow with me. We have so much to talk about.” Bebe followed her obediently.

Mickey put her arm around the young girl’s fragile shoulder and was stunned to feel it trembling beneath her touch. With an unexpected surge of suppressed motherhood, she led the girl to her room, helped her undress, and then loaned her a nightgown rather than have her paw through the stack of clothing in the center of the floor.

“Would you care for some hot chocolate, chérie? It will be no trouble for me to go down and get it.”

“No, Aunt Mickey. I’m fine. And I—I’m sorry about the way I behaved. I have no excuse,” Bebe blurted out.

“It is of no importance. I was young once, too, believe it or not. Perhaps in a few days you will feel more kindly toward Reuben and apologize to him. But only if you want to.”

“He hates me!” Bebe cried, sensing there was sympathy to be earned.

“No, chérie, he does not hate you. He does not like the way you behaved. You are one of his countrymen, and he took your behavior personally. You will make amends, I am sure of it.”

“You said my mother liked it here at the château and didn’t want to leave. What was she like, Aunt Mickey? I never knew her, and Papa doesn’t like to talk about her.”

“She was very beautiful. Not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. She was a gentle, giving, caring woman, and she made your papa very happy. When she was pregnant with you, she said she knew it would be a girl. She had such wonderful plans for the two of you. She said she’d never give you up to a nanny but would take care of you herself. Your father was devastated at her death. Your brother should have been brought here to me. I offered to take him, at least for a while. You, too. But your father said he didn’t want to rip the family apart. I know he tried his best with you and Eli, and I also know he was far too indulgent because he loves you so much. I understand Eli is constantly in trouble, but that will change when he discovers who he is and what he wants to do with his life. Someday Eli will be a wonderful painter. You, Miss Bebe, leave much to be desired at the moment. I’m here to help you, but only if you want my help.”

“Someday I’ll be just like you, Aunt Mickey,” Bebe said sleepily. “Maybe then someone will love me.”

Mickey had to strain to hear the last words. Tears pricked at her eyelids, and her heart went out to the sleeping girl. “Poor lost lamb,” she whispered as she brushed wisps of golden hair from the smooth forehead. “I tortured myself for weeks about you. I thought that Reuben would certainly be attracted to you, that he would compare us. My instincts were right, little one. There is something about you that Reuben finds…I don’t quite know what it is, but it is something I feel. You and I are like night and day to him. One of us is a woman, an older woman, and the other is a young girl on the brink of womanhood. I love this young man more than I have ever loved a man, and I know in my heart that I am going to lose him in some way to you. If you were worthy of him, I could…I could accept it and let him go, because true love is wanting the other person’s happiness more than your own. And you, little Bebe, want Reuben, I saw it in your eyes. Against my better judgment I have allowed him to consume my life. I cannot share him with you. Whatever I have I will willingly share, but not Reuben. Not now.” There was sorrow in her voice when she whispered her final good-night. “If you take him from me, then he’s not worth having, but don’t expect me to give him to you.”

At the door she turned for a last look at the girl cuddled in bed. “You couldn’t possibly love him as I do. I wish you had never come here,” she murmured. Then she closed the door softly behind her, her eyes bright with tears.

Bebe scrunched her face into the downy pillow and laughed gleefully. When sleep finally reached out to her, there was a smile on her face. Playing at falling asleep had been one of the first things in her acting repertoire. Reuben Tarz was as good as hers.

It was hours later, past midnight, when Reuben slipped into Mickey’s warm bed. He drew her to him and whispered, “It’s snowing outside.” Mickey smiled as she returned to sleep, this time in Reuben’s arms.