Destiny's Bride by Jane Peart

Author:Jane Peart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Array
Publisher: Zondervan

chapter

13

IN THE WEEKS that followed that incident, it seemed that Randall's attitude toward me changed subtly. He was pleasant and much less moody when he visited our wing of the villa, and he stayed longer, showing an interest in the girls' progress to an extent I had not noticed before. He asked questions, not always directly concerned with the children—questions about my own childhood, my education at Cameron Hall. He seemed especially interested in those phases of my upbringing that dealt with the traditional training of a Southern lady.

While I found myself intrigued by his complex personality, I realized again that such fascination held danger. Sometimes, lulled by a rare glimpse of a gender side, I would entertain a fantasy that our relationship could be something more than employer and employee. Then, just as suddenly, there would be that flash of lightning-quick temper, his mood as dark as storm clouds, and any hope I had of knowing what lay beneath the surface of the man vanished.

I never allowed myself to fantasize long, however—never asked myself the question that hovered in my heart.

To be realistic about any foolish thoughts about Randall, I had only to observe what was going on around me. The Elliotts were very much in evidence that spring. Invitations flowed between the two villas.

Whenever Peggy and her formidable mother were visiting, Randall always brought them, either to the schoolroom or out to the garden where I was with the children. It was here I could see clearly the net the beautiful young woman and her mother were weaving about Randall.

I tried to be reserved but pleasant, all the while seething inside over their condescending manner toward me. I noticed Randall did not enter into their conversation with Nora and Lally, just stood there a little apart, smiling to himself. Could not he see what they were doing? Trying to win the hearts of these innocent little things, pretending an interest in what they were saying? It infuriated me even as I chastised myself for being critical.

One such day, watching a performance of such proportion by the Elliotts that it could have almost been a satirical play, I happened to glance at Randall. Was I mistaken, or did his eyelid close in a furtive wink when he caught my eye?

Of course, I could not be sure. But from that moment I began to suspect that the Elliotts' motives might be more transparent to him than I had at first imagined.

Still, the morning horseback rides continued, as well as the afternoon sight-seeing tours, the teas, the dinners, the fetes and opera-going. Whether he enjoyed it all or not—as he had indicated that night when he met me coming home from the Colosseum—he continued to go.

In the meantime, my friendship with Pietro developed and deepened. It became a very special kind of bond. In our walks and talks I had learned more of his family background, and how even though their politics were sharply opposed, Pietro loved his father and missed the close family ties.

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