Heart and Home(23)

"Oh, Adam, I'm so sorry." She took a step toward him, then stopped. She didn't trust herself any closer.

"I've been surprised to discover that I'm not. Sorry, I mean. It's a blow to my pride, I suppose, but it's also a relief."

Part of her wanted to rejoice at his words. Ingrained caution wouldn't let her. "That's terrible, Adam."

He laughed. "Yeah, I know. Sit down." He indicated the blankets on the  floor. "I need to talk to you about Peggy, but first let me tell you  about Doreena and me."

Jane couldn't help the suspicions that clamored in her brain. "Sit down? Here?"

"Those chairs aren't very comfortable, and I don't have a porch swing."

"Porch swing?"

"Please, Jane." He sat cross-legged on the blanket. When he stretched his hand toward her, she threw caution to the wind.





Chapter Nine


Adam had to tell her why she wasn't getting Peggy. But not yet. First  she had to understand that he cared about her. And before he could tell  her that, he had to explain about Doreena.

Jane had seemed so carefree when she sat on the blanket to be near  Peggy. Now she sat primly, her hands folded in her lap, her back  straight. She seemed hesitant, self-conscious. She was also farther  away. Adam wanted to move toward her, but knew she scared easily.

"Doreena and I met shortly after her father had taken an interest in  me," he began. He watched her closely as he went on. "But I should go  back farther than that. I was raised in an orphanage."

Her eyes widened, and he knew he had her compassion. That wasn't what he  wanted. "The orphanage was one of Mr. Fitzgibbon's favorite charities.  Every year or so he would pick out a boy who was doing particularly well  in school and give him a boost toward higher education."

"And you were his choice," Jane guessed. "That was very kind of him."

"Yes, it was," Adam agreed. "Fitzgibbon believed one should make his own  fortune so his help didn't include much in the way of monetary  assistance. His recommendation helped me get into medical school, but I  had to find a way to finance it myself."

"Which is where Clyde came in." Her hands were resting demurely in her  lap, and Adam wanted to take one into his own. She seemed so distant,  isolated. But what could he expect?

"Fitzgibbon threw a large party to introduce me and make sure the story  made the papers. It was at this party that I met Doreena. She was unlike  any girl I had ever seen."                       
       
           



       

Adam had to laugh at himself. "That sounds funny now. How many girls did  I know? There wasn't much socializing at the orphanage. I had worked in  a neighborhood store since I was fourteen so I wasn't completely  sheltered, but I wasn't prepared for Doreena.

"I don't know what she saw in me. Maybe the rich are fascinated by the  poor. The reverse is definitely true. Her house, her clothes, her. style  had me in awe.

"Through two years of medical school, we saw each other nearly every  week. She would usually initiate it. I had had to leave the orphanage  when I was eighteen, and Fitzgibbon had arranged for me to live at a  boardinghouse for young men that was located near the college and housed  primarily students. I paid for my rent by washing dishes.

"There was a common room downstairs where we could entertain guests. Or  in Doreena's case, she would entertain us. She loved to play the piano  and sing or show off her paintings. All the boys were in love with her."

Looking back, Adam could see how much she'd enjoyed the attention. He  had been her ticket into the gathering of young, adoring men. But he  hadn't seen it then. He had watched her captivate the others and had  felt only pride.

"When I was about to graduate, I asked her to marry me. Her parents strongly discouraged it."

Jane was watching him with sad eyes. "What did they say?"

"Doreena didn't tell me everything they said, but I understand 'disown'  came up at least once. They were convinced I was after her money."

Jane wasn't looking at him now, and her face was hard to read. He had  talked too long about Doreena, anyway. "The point is," he added, "I  don't think she would have agreed to marry me if her parents hadn't  objected. It was an act of defiance, but I didn't see that at the time.

"Ever since I got here, I've been trying to imagine Doreena in this  house. I've been trying to figure out what she was going to find to do  here. I don't. think she would ever have been happy."

"You were never in love with her," Jane said.

Adam wasn't sure if it was a question or an accusation. He could only  answer honestly. "I thought I was. But no, I don't think so now."

"You would think a person would know-about love, I mean."

Adam understood that while his confessions might let Jane know that  Doreena was no longer between them, they didn't really cast him in a  very good light. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? Maybe I let myself be  fooled. Or maybe we did love each other, just not enough to give up  anything else we wanted."

"Is that what love is?" Her voice was very soft and made him think of Peggy's whispers. "Giving up something?"

"I don't know. It just seemed to come down to that."

"I don't think- Grams believed in love." Jane shook her head. "I know  she loved me and she loved my mother, but I don't think she believed  that men knew how to love."

"That's silly, Jane. We're not that different."

Jane was quiet for a moment, gazing down at her lap. She looked so  vulnerable, so nearly frightened, that he wanted to comfort her. He  wanted very much to take her into his arms. He realized he had wanted to  many times before, but hadn't allowed himself to admit it because of  Doreena.

But what would Jane think if he did, if he moved a little closer and put  his arm around her shoulder? That this was all a calculated seduction?  Especially considering what her grandmother had told her. He forced  himself to be satisfied with capturing one of her hands between his.

"Why would your grandmother believe that, Jane?"

Jane shrugged, unwilling to look at him. Still, she didn't pull her hand  away. "I don't know anything about my grandfather. Grams never  mentioned him. I can only assume he disappointed her, somehow. Maybe he  left her.

"My mother ran away with my father when she was very young. He dragged  her all over the country. When I was born she didn't want to travel  anymore, but he wouldn't change. I think he was a gambler, I'm not sure.  My mother took me and moved back to live with Grams. Grams was poor but  she made room for us.                       
       
           



       

"I was only seven when my mother died, so I don't really know what  happened, but I remember her fighting with Grams. I think she thought my  father would come after her, but Grams was right. He never did."

When she didn't go on, Adam spoke softly. "My mother left me on a doorstep. I don't mistrust all women because of it."

Jane turned to him then, her eyes startled. "How could she do that?"

Adam laughed. "She was probably hungry. But I didn't mean to interrupt you. How did you and your grandmother get out here?"

"We got a letter from George Pinter saying that my father had died. He  owned a house here in Clyde, which now belonged to me. Evidently there  was a will and papers that included our address, even though he never  wrote to us in all those years.

"Grams sold what she could, abandoned the rest, and we took a train out  here. The house, by the way, was this one. But Grams fell in love with  the house next door. When its owners put it up for sale, she made a deal  with the bank. We've been paying off the loan with money from the  boarders."

"And that's why you work so hard." He moved closer, barely conscious that he was doing so.

"Partly," she said.

He couldn't resist reaching out to touch her face. Her skin was soft and  warm. She smelled of lilac soap and cinnamon, a delightful combination  he had only encountered in Jane. He slid his thumb slowly across her  lips. They opened with a tiny gasp that made them all the more tempting.

"Jane … "

He looked into her eyes and forgot what he had intended to say. Their  dark depths were filled with longing. Longing that he was sure matched  his own. Very slowly, wanting to draw out every moment, he brought his  lips to hers. They were softer than he could have imagined.

He savored their sweetness for a long moment, then slowly drew away. "I want you, Jane," he whispered.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that wasn't what he should say. There was something else. Something important.