Part 15 (1/2)
”I used to feel that way about Monty,” Rose said, ”but he grew on me. I expect it's the same with Madison.”
”The only way that man will grow on me is if you tie me down and set him on top of me,” Fern said. ”I wouldn't be surprised if they move Boston while he's away. If this is the way he acts all the time, they can't want him to find it again.”
”You going to let that man take you home?” Mrs. Abbott asked, reentering the bedroom as soon as she had made certain that Madison was safely outside her house.
”I don't seem to have much choice,” Fern said. ”It would take an army to stop him.”
She glanced at her saddlebags and decided to leave them on the floor. If Madison insisted upon driving her home, he could carry them.
And he would. He was such a strange combination of brusque bully and protective male.
Much to Fern's surprise, she was glad he was taking her home. She was a fool, an idiot, but she didn't care. Being with Madison made her feel completely unlike herself. None of her usual worries mattered. His opinionated, high-handed ways made her furious, but for the first time in her life somebody was showing an interest in her.
She was certain she'd live to regret going with him, but she was equally certain she'd regret it if she didn't. It was like being drunk. She knew she'd awake with a terrible headache, but she wanted to enjoy every moment of the intoxication.
”Well, if I was you, I wouldn't let him take me home,” Mrs. Abbott said. ”You'll be miles away if he starts to get ideas.”
”He won't bother me, at least not that way,” Fern said, carefully adjusting her hat over her hair. She wanted to comb her hair again, but just putting on her hat caused pain.
”You can never be sure.”
”Yes, I can,” Fern said. She picked up her vest and slipped into it, being careful to move her upper body as little as possible. ”I don't look enough like a woman to tempt him. I'm sure he's used to the most beautiful women wearing the most beautiful gowns and living in the most beautiful houses. What could there be about me to tempt him?”
”Why don't you ask him?” Rose suggested.
”We're halfway to your house, and you haven't said more than a dozen sentences,” Madison said.
”I've said enough already,” Fern replied. ”More than I meant to.”
”You mean you've changed your mind about me?”
”Not about why you came,” Fern told him. ”I mean to see Troy's killer hang.”
”I notice you said Troy's killer, not Hen.”
”I decided it would be better if I didn't name names. There'll be plenty of time for that later.” She couldn't tell him she no longer felt a burning need to do everything she could to thwart him. Neither could she tell him she looked upon him as a temporary diversion, or that she intended to enjoy the game as long as it lasted.
”I didn't set Reed and Pike on you the other night,” she said, getting to the subject she had been avoiding.
”I realize that now,” Madison said. He was quiet a few moments. ”I guess I said some pretty rough things.”
”No worse than I said.”
”According to George, I should have been incarcerated for that alone.”
”George is a gentleman. I doubt he would understand a person of your temperament.”
Madison practically shouted with laughter. I have to keep reminding myself you don't know my family very well.”
His unexpected reaction surprised her. ”You can't deny that George is a gentleman,” Fern said.
”And I'm not,” Madison answered, still laughing. ”Something even my fancy education and expensive clothes can't disguise.”
”I didn't say that.”
”But you meant it.”
”I didn't say it.”
”Point taken. Since you're likely to be seeing more of the Randolph men over the coming weeks, at least three of them, let me offer you a piece of advice. We may all look different on the outside, we may act different, but inside we're very much like. No one alive, not even Hen, would be more ruthless than George if anything threatened his family. No one, including George, can be more truly understanding than Hen. But all of us are the sons of our father, and there was more evil in that man than in the entire state of Kansas.”
Fern stared at him.
”When you look at George and Hen and me, you're looking at three faces of the same man.”
”But you're nothing alike.”
”It just seems that way. You'll never really understand us if you try to separate us.”
That frightened Fern. If what he said was true, she didn't know anything about him at all. It made her uneasy, as if there might be someone different sitting beside her the very next minute.
She remembered the gentleness of his kiss. He might have kissed her against her will, but it hadn't felt like it.
She'd like it if he acted like George, but it made her uneasy to think he could be like Hen. She'd only met Hen once, but she found him totally lacking in emotion, a killer who felt nothing, who regretted nothing, who probably didn't give his victims a second thought.
It gave her cold s.h.i.+vers to think that Madison could be the same way.
”Tell me what you do back East,” she said.
”You wouldn't be interested.”
”Maybe not, but I won't know until you tell me.” At least he hadn't said she wouldn't understand.
”I'm a lawyer. I help businesses find ways to use the law to make money.”
”But that's nothing at all like trying to find out who killed Troy.”
”It's close enough. Besides, I'm the only lawyer in the family.”
”Doesn't your brother have the money to hire a lawyer?”
”So far George has done me the courtesy to think I don't need any help.” ”Tell me more about your work,” Fern said, reminding herself that she wanted to steer away from anything to do with his family or Troy's death.
But while Madison explained what he did, Fern found herself wondering about the kind of women he met, the kind of women he liked, and how he behaved when he was with them. Troy had been to Chicago and New Orleans. He had told her about the fabulous mansions, the wild parties, the women that rich men sought out when they wanted to have a little fun.
She couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to live in that world, even for a short time. She couldn't imagine being able to sleep as long as she liked, having a maid bring her a breakfast of exotic foods she could only imagine, another maid to dress her in gowns worth more than her father's whole farm, having dozens of handsome men begging to talk to her, walk with her, dance with her, sit next to her, or being ready to lay down their lives for a flower from her hair, a handkerchief, or a stolen kiss.