A Season Beyond a Kiss (18 page)

Gallantly Jeff swept her a courtly bow and performed the honors. “My lady, may I present my lovely wife, Raelynn, to you and all others within hearing distance.” He faced the beauty at his side and smiled into her eyes as he took her slender hand. “My love, this feisty dowager is Abegail Clark, an old friend of the family. She all but adopted my mother, Catherine, while she was still alive.”

Raelynn sank into a gracious curtsey before the elder. “A pleasure, madam.”

“Nay, girl, the pleasure is all mine,” the elder assured her kindly. “I’ve been waiting some years to see who this young gallant would choose for a wife, and though I’ve heard rumors of the difficulties you’ve had to face since your arrival, it’s obvious you’ve weathered them amazingly well and have come through no worse for them. May I extend a fond welcome to the Carolinas, my dear, and a blessing that God may watch over you and keep you safe and happy through a long and fruitful life.”

Taking the initiative, Raelynn stepped forward and gently pressed her cheek against the one that had grown wrinkled through the years. “Thank you, Mrs. Clark. I shall hope that I prove worthy of your expectations.”

Mrs. Clark hurriedly blinked at the tears that gathered in her eyes and, upon clearing her throat, glanced around to find herself in the midst of the Birminghams, one and all. Eagerly she stretched out a hand to Heather, drawing the younger woman quickly forward. “So good to see you, child. It has been a couple of weeks since you were last here. I was afraid you might be suffering some difficulties with the child you’re now carrying. Have you been well?”

“Oh, yes, of course, Mrs. Clark,” Heather reassured her, smiling radiantly. “Beau had a slight fever last week, that’s all, and of course, you heard about the commotion the week before.”

“Mr. Fridrich, you mean.” The older woman clucked her tongue in distaste. “He’s a brute, that one.”

“Thanks to him, none of us got any sleep until everyone was at home safe and sound. Once the ordeal was over, we could hardly hold our eyes open.” Heather cast a mischievous glance toward her handsome husband. “Reverend Parsons would surely have thought bullfrogs had invaded the church if Brandon had started snoring during the service.”

Her husband’s jaw descended forthwith in a fair imitation of one who had been shocked out of his senses, evoking the laughter of his family and friends. “Madam, I protest. You accuse me unjustly. I don’t snore.”

Heather rolled her eyes in feigned disbelief and, lifting her hand before Mrs. Clark, measured off a degree by bringing her thumb and forefinger slowly together. She cringed in mock fear as Brandon stalked near, but she quickly burst into giggles as he caught an arm about her shoulders and, with a growl, threatened to take a bite out of her slender nape, much to the hilarity of those who watched.

“Unc’ Jeff,” Beau said, leaning his head far back and squinting up at the tall man. “Will yo’ help me catch ‘nother frog? Pa made me turn the other one loose so’s I could go back inta church.”

Jeff passed his hat to Raelynn and, bending down, swooped the youngster into his arms. “Maybe your pa will bring you over and let you look for one in the pond near my house. You can catch plenty of them over there, but you must promise me that you won’t bring them into church again. They like ponds and the outdoors, and that’s the best place to keep them.”

“But they’ll get ‘way from me out there.”

“It wouldn’t be hard to catch another . . . anytime you want to. Promise?”

The boy lifted doleful, black-lashed blue eyes to his uncle. “Guess so, Unc’ Jeff.”

A sudden realization struck Jeff, and in some astonishment, he looked past the boy’s head, claiming his brother’s attention. “Beau has blue eyes! But I thought they were . . .”

“Green?” Heather queried, stealing the word from his mouth. She laughed and, turning her head slightly, peered at Jeff saucily from around the brim of her bonnet. “They’ve been blue for more than three years now. I thought you’d have noticed by now.”

“But they
were
green, weren’t they?”

Grinning, Brandon thrust out his chin, indicating his fetching wife. “I swear she talked to the fairies and coaxed them into changing the color of Beau’s eyes. If you’re satisfied with the way you look, you’d better watch her tricks. Next thing you know she’ll be turning yours blue.”

Heather grinned contentedly as she faced Jeff. “I wouldn’t dare tell your brother that he was mistaken about the color.” She wrinkled her nose and playfully winced as Brandon snorted like a cantankerous bull. “Truth is, babies’ eyes have a way of changing in the first year. What we thought were green eyes were just blue ones in the making.”

The Birminghams and Abegail Clark laughed in hearty amusement at Heather’s simple logic. As she glanced around at the cheerful faces that surrounded her, she shrugged girlishly. It was the tantalizing little grin she wore that prompted Brandon to dismiss the fact that they were standing within full view of nearly the whole congregation. Drawing her near, he bestowed a kiss upon her suddenly gaping mouth.

Hurriedly pulling away, Heather glanced around in some embarrassment to find several, normally beady-eyed spinsters now gawking in astonishment. “Brandon, people are watching. Behave yourself.”

Nevertheless when Brandon cast a smile toward the trio of old maids and drew her back with an arm about her shoulders, she leaned against him with a grin that was nearly dazzling. Her compliance certainly caused the three onlookers to raise their brows and glance knowingly at each other.

As for Raelynn, she had found the show of affection between her in-laws quite refreshing and felt led to slip her hand within Jeff’s as she lifted a loving smile to him. No words were exchanged as his eyes searched hers, but had he asked, she would have found explanations beyond her ability. She was just simply glad that she was part of the Birmingham clan.

  
  
IT WAS TOWARD THE END OF
S
EPTEMBER WHEN THE
final fitting for Raelynn’s ball gown was scheduled to take place. Knowing that Nell would be working at Farrell’s shop, no doubt with her new son in close proximity, Jeff utilized every precaution within his capability to prevent a confrontation between the young seamstress and his wife. Thus, he did the only sensible thing a gentleman could do under the circumstances and that was to set aside some time to escort Raelynn to the shop himself rather than merely having Thaddeus drive her in. Upon their arrival, he was greatly relieved when he learned that Nell had asked for the day off to run errands. He could only hope that she would decide to leave the area for good. As much as the idea might have distressed her, he never wanted to see her again.

Men were not allowed in the fitting rooms, a fact which left Jeff nearly champing at the bit as he waited for Raelynn to reappear. A whole wardrobe of clothes and other accouterments had been ordered for the fall season for her, and he began to chafe at the prospect of having to bide his time through many tedious fittings, especially since he seemed to be the only male customer on the premises. He was definitely surprised and relieved when Raelynn came out garbed in the shimmering ball gown. As he watched with a feeling of awe, she seemed to float across the room toward the mirror to which Elizabeth had directed her.

“Close your mouth,” Farrell advised with a grin as he came to stand beside Jeff. “And for heaven’s sakes, man, pick up your jaw.”

“Beautiful!” Jeff breathed, seemingly in a daze as his eyes swept down the length of her.

“Of course,” the couturier replied and proudly polished his nails on his lapel. “I designed it.”

Jeff pointedly arched a brow as he gave his friend a sidelong stare. “I meant my wife, Fancy Man.”

Farrell shrugged nonchalantly, never losing his affected aplomb. “Well, that’s true of her, too, of course. In fact, it’s hard to say which is lovelier. Nevertheless, your wife’s beauty has definitely been magnified by my creation. She has the kind of form that would complement a shroud. She’s tall, slender and moves like a dream. . . .”

“Stop drooling,” Jeff cautioned, bestowing upon the man an outrageously indignant glare that should have belied the twinkle in his eye. “She’s spoken for.”

“Yes, well, I’ve been trying to remind myself of that fact for the last few weeks and have decided I should take your advice. . . .”

“What advice is that, pray tell?”

“I shall be escorting Elizabeth to your ball.” He looked askance at Jeff in time to see a grin break across his face. “Do you mind?”

“Well, I’ll be damned!”

“In that case, perhaps I shouldn’t,” Farrell replied, stretching his neck above his collar as he straightened his handsomely tailored frockcoat. “I wouldn’t want you to be cast into hell or anything like that, Jeffrey.”

The green eyes danced with puckish humor. “It’s long overdue, my friend, but I’m relieved to hear that you’re finally making use of that ol’ noggin of yours. I thought it was good for something. I just didn’t know exactly what until now.”

The couturier cleared his throat, uneasy about making certain confessions. “Actually, I’ve taken Elizabeth out a time or two for dinner since you were last here, Jeffrey. On business, of course. What with our past difficulties, that excuse seemed the best way to get her to accept my invitations.” The clothier flicked his brows upward as he revealed a past astonishment. “What I hadn’t expected to confront was the audacity of some men to openly ogle her while she was with me. Believe me, Jeffrey, I saw more than the usual froth running down their jowls, which, by the way, I grew increasingly desirous of punching.”

“Meaning you saw a threat of your talented assistant being stolen away and led to the altar by an infatuated swain?” Jeff prodded, amusement shining in his eyes.

Taking offense, Farrell ran a finger beneath the band of his collar at his nape, as if he now found it too tight. “Dammit, Jeffrey, you make it sound as if I’d court Elizabeth or even marry her merely to save my business from certain disaster.”

“You mean you wouldn’t?”

A cantankerous snort evidenced Farrell’s irritation. “You make me out to be a conniving scoundrel, Jeffrey, and that’s not the way of it at all. Elizabeth is a damn good-looking woman whom I’ve admired for some years now. Of all the young fillies I’ve ever courted, there isn’t one among them who can compare. It just finally dawned on me that I’ve been letting hurtful memories of past years dictate my actions even as late as last month. As yet, I’m not sure that she would appreciate any attempt on my part to ease our relationship into something less formal than employer and employee, but I think it would be much more relaxing and enjoyable to set my sights on the dove in my own back yard rather than trying to pluck the feathers off the neighbors’ chickens.”

“Smooth your ruffled nape, my friend. I’m just delighted to hear of your change of heart. Two months ago you were still gazing past her, or at least you seemed to be. It’s a relief to know you’ve become more short-sighted.”

“Short-sighted, hell. I’m nigh cross-eyed. I didn’t realize she was so much underfoot before. It’s somewhat like looking at the end of my nose.”

“And you don’t appreciate that,” Jeff vocally deduced.

“Hell and damnation, Jeffrey, you can be as vexing as a ten-foot alligator. I didn’t say that.”

Jeff was growing more perplexed by the moment. “Then what
are
you saying, Fancy Man?”

The couturier sighed in exasperation, not at all sure he could explain it all well enough. “Elizabeth has been so close at hand all this time, it never really dawned on me what I was doing until recently.”

Jeff searched for enlightenment. “Meaning that you’ve mainly been ignoring her?”

“Nooo,” Farrell fussed. “You should know better than that, having been the bachelor for so long. I know well enough that you were no different than I am now. I saw the way you’d size up a woman when she wasn’t even aware of you looking at her. Bachelors can’t seem to help themselves. Maybe it’s something instinctive, or the fact that appeasement doesn’t come that often unless a man gets desperate enough to seek out harlots, but I’ve never been led that way. Nor do I think you were. When a good-looking woman comes within view, we can mentally strip ’em, dissect ’em, and bed ’em all in a matter of a moment, at times without being completely aware of what we’re doing. I didn’t have to search for a better looking female to use as a standard by which I could judge all the other women. Elizabeth was here all this time, which made it easy for me to compare others to her, but, by the same token, I was so used to having her around, I never realized I was going through the same mental scenario many more times with her than all the others put together. Strip her, dissect her, and bed her . . . all in my mind. Emory put a name to it.” Farrell shook his head as if aghast at himself. “Coveting. That’s what I was doing long before she ever became a widow, and I wanted to hit the man for telling me that.”

“What are you going to do about it now?”

Farrell blew out his breath in frustration. “That, Jeffrey me dearie, is what pickled the pig on the poker. It’s damned frustrating, but I don’t know if I
can
do anything about it.”