Chapter 11
Jed had been able to forget his worries about Edythe for the night. But the worries returned the next day. All Wednesday, all Thursday, he wondered why she did not call His calls to her office brought only the cool reply, "Miss Westfall is not in the office today. Would you care to speak with Mr. Larry Westfall?"
His suspicions grew. Edythe, under the chill exterior, was a fiercely passionate woman. It was entirely possible that she had another lover. Or she might have tired of Jed, and decided to drop him abruptly in favor of another temporary lover. This might be the reason for her secrecy, the reason why she refused to give Jed her address and home phone number. She wanted to be able to shake off a lover as soon as she wearied of him.
His jealousy was raging. He pictured Edythe in the arms of another man. She was too beautiful to be ignored by men. Someone else had discovered the fierce volcano of passion that seethed below the snows of her cold manner.
He could not endure another weekend of torment and wondering. Even knowing a bitter truth would be better than uncertainty. When he could not reach her at the office on Friday, he decided to go to the address he had seen in her wallet. At six o'clock on Friday, then, he parked his car near the address and walked to the door.
The building was one of a series of drab, aging, stone apartment buildings in an old section of the city. He had passed the buildings dozens of times, never thinking consciously about them or their occupants.
He walked into the lower hallway, examined the row of mailboxes. Yes. There it was. A neat "E. Westfal!" printed on one of the boxes. It was marked Apt. 4.
There was a self-service elevator at the back of the hallway. He took it to the fourth floor. On the right side of the entrance to the fourth floor was a door marked "A." On the left was a door marked "B."
His heart thumping, he knocked at the door. For a moment he heard nothing. Then footsteps clicked to the door. The door opened a crack. A gold chain barred the way. Edythe looked out at him. Her dark blue eyes grew wide, scared.
"Jed!"
"Hello, Edythe."
"Go away. I don't know how you found me, but go away!" She was angry. Underneath the anger was a real fear. Why was she afraid of him, after all this time? She tried to close the door.
"Edythe, I must talk to you!" He put his foot firmly in the door so she could not close it.
"I'll call you," she said curtly. Now he could see only one blue eye.
"I've waited all week for you to call. Didn't Larry tell you about our finding him in the warehouse last Friday night?"
The door opened one inch wider. "No, he didn't tell me."
"Let me in. I want to talk to you."
"I'll call you later," she said desperately. "Please, Jed! I'll phone. Or I'll come to your place. Really I will."
There was something in the apartment she did not want him to see. Even her anxiety over Larry would not overcome another fear. Jed was all the more determined to come in.
"I'm not going to wait around, only to get a brush-off," he said, with pretended fury. "I'll go to the police and tell them to go ahead and put Larry in jail. You've shielded him long enough. The boy is evidently a thief."
"He isn't! Oh, Jed, he isn't." Edythe hesitated, torn between fears. "Please, let me come over to your place-tomorrow. I'll come tomorrow."
Jed turned away. "Tomorrow is too late. I'm calling the police tonight." He felt mean and nasty, but it worked. As he started toward the elevator, she called after him.
"No! No, Jed! Come back. I'll let you in. Jed!" She unlatched the door and opened it.
He went back at once before she changed her mind.
He entered the apartment. It was done in blues and white and gold, a lovely place. Very quiet and peaceful, he decided. What was she hiding?
She sent a fearful glance toward the back hall of the apartment after she had locked and bolted the door.
"Sit down, Jed. Tell me about Larry." She perched nervously on the edge of the chair.
Then came a voice-loud, wailing, clear-from a back room. "Mama! Mama! Mamaaaa!"
Edythe jumped up, her face pallid. She stared at Jed, who was still standing. Without a word she went out to the back hall, to one of the bedrooms. He followed, numbly.
In the darkened bedroom was a child's crib. A chubby, blond-haired boy was standing up, holding to the rail of the crib, his blue eyes wide as Edythe and Jed came in the room.
Edythe soothed the boy. "It's all right, Greggie. Mama's here." She picked him up, and cuddled him in her arms. The small boy was dressed in white sleepers. He yawned, stared curiously at Jed over his mother's shoulder as she carried him over to a nearby chair.
A huge woman loomed in the doorway as Jed turned. She scowled at Jed.
"It's all right. Pauline," said Edythe quickly. "This is Jed Kingsley."
"I'll take care of Greggie," said the woman gruffly. She went over to the boy.
"Mamaaaa!" demanded the boy. Edythe leaned over him, kissed him, whispered to him.
"Let's go back to the living room," Edythe said then. She led the way back. As Jed left the bedroom, the baby boy twisted his head around to gaze after them. His eyes were exactly like Edythe's.
Jed felt as though he had been punched in the head. He was groggy. Of all the developments, he had never imagined this. Edythe-with a child. He was numb. He couldn't think.
Edythe sat down, leaned her head back with a sigh. Color had returned to her cheeks.
"Greggie was sick this week," she explained. "I didn't want to leave him. I haven't been to the office. He has almost recovered now."
"Greggie is-your child?" asked Jed. Maybe he was Larry's instead. Maybe what he had concluded was wrong.
"Yes, he's mine. I suppose I'll have to tell you now."
"You don't have to," said Jed, rather coldly. He didn't want the lurid details of her affair.
"It's what you've been after me to discover for weeks," she said, with a tired smile. "Greggie is sixteen months old. He is my child-and Russell's-Russell Thorpe."
A cold knife struck Jed in the heart. He could not move or speak. Edythe's head rested on a cushion, and her dark blue eyes studied him dispassionately.
She continued, "About three years ago, I fell crazily in love with a married man. Russell. He told me he wanted to divorce his wife and marry me. He was gentle, kind, sweet. I trusted him completely. I was wildly happy. So-he got his divorce from Mavis Thorpe, and we were married."
Jed began to breathe again. Somehow he had not wanted to believe that Edythe had had an illegitimate child.
"For some reason, he wanted to keep our marriage secret. I never knew why. But that worked out for the best for me." Edythe's lovely mouth twisted. "We had not been married three months before he had taught me to hate him. I discovered that the sweet, kind man was a front-the slick facade of a ruthless and cruel man. He wanted the Westfall Company. He wanted money and power. I walked out. He was furiously angry. But I never let him know I was pregnant. The divorce was final. It cost Larry and me some company stock, though. I've, fought to buy it back, even at double the value, but I can't get him to sell."
The pieces began to fall into place.
"He did the same to Mavis," Jed said. "The cost of her divorce was some of her stock in my company. That must be why he wanted to keep your marriage secret. He might not have been able to extract the stock from Mavis, in spite of his public humiliation of her, if she had known he was about to marry you."
"I see. Yes, that explains. Well, I hid the baby from him. I got this apartment, and Pauline guards Greggie when I'm not here. But somehow Russell found out about my child. He threatens to take him away from me unless I sell him a controlling interest in West-fall. I don't know whether he can get my baby or not. I've been frantic."
"So that's why Larry is so worried. But why was he prowling around the warehouse?"
"I don't know. Larry has tried to protect me and the baby. He has done things for Russell I don't know how much money he has 'lost' to him at poker. The poor boy is always out of funds. I have begged him to let me work it out. But Larry keeps trying to buy Russell off. And Russell gets greedier. I think he is power-mad."
Jed sat silent, thinking over the stunning revelations of the past few minutes. He saw Larry and Edythe in an entirely different light, tormented, worried, scared, naive, trying to protect the baby from a cruel man who happened to be his father. Russell was cold-bloodedly using their protective feelings for the child to further his ambitions.
Edythe left the room again, explaining that she wanted to get the baby's dinner. Jed did not want to leave. He wanted to figure out some answers for Edythe. She seemed to be in a trap she could not escape. Try as he would, he could not think how best to protect her from Russell.
Finally he got up and went out to the kitchen. Pauline was fixing dinner. Edythe was feeding Greggie. He was sitting in a high chair, his right hand pounding the tray in front of him.
"No, no, no!" he was saying sharply.
"What's the matter?" asked Jed.
Edythe smiled. "He wants to feed himself. But he turns the spoon over and all the food goes on the floor. Come on, honey. Take a bite."
The baby stared up at Jed, his attention caught by the stranger. His mouth opened like a bird's to accept the food she offered. Jed leaned against the door frame, studying the child. He saw little resemblance to Russell. The boy was exactly like Edythe and Larry.
When the baby had been fed, Edythe gave him to Pauline to care for.
"How about going out to dinner with me?" Jed invited Edythe. She hesitated.
"You go on," said Pauline unexpectedly. "You haven't been out of the apartment for a week."
"Well-all right," she agreed.
Jed waited while she changed her clothes and kissed Greggie good-bye. Greggie said some words, but no one could translate.
In the car, Jed said casually, "He's a lot like you."
"Yes. Actually I think Russell used to be a different kind of person. Rather nice, in fact. It's a desire for money and power that changed him."
"That could be. I never thought he was after my throat until this spring. I don't think he was in the beginning."
"I wish I knew what to do!" she burst out, her hands clenched tightly. "It's horrible to be afraid all the time."
"Don't be afraid, Edythe. We'll work it out," he reassured her.
"I don't want to drag you into this."
"I'm already in, up to my throat, which Russell is dying to slit," he reminded drily.
She shivered.
During dinner he thought of one solution. But he did not mention it until they were back at his apartment. She had come willingly, he was glad to see.
"I thought of what we can do about Greggie," he said, when they were sitting on the couch.
"Oh, what? Tell me."
"You can marry me. I'll adopt him legally. That will cancel out any efforts of Russell to get him."
She was already shaking her head. "No. No, I can't involve you like this. You don't know Russell, how mean and cruel he can be."
"I'm already involved."
"Not with me. Not with his son. No, I won't listen. We can't even consider this."
She refused to listen, putting her hands over her ears when he tried to persist. She did agree to going to bed with him. He undressed her, touching her with tender hands. He loved her. He knew that now. He was completely bound up with her. Whatever hurt her would hurt him.
In bed, she turned to him, seeking him. He held her carefully, his hand stroking her silken limbs.
"Edythe, I love you," he said, meaning this phrase as he had never meant it before. "I love you. Darling. Darling."
"Oh, Jed. Don't mix me up. I mustn't think about love." Her blonde head cuddled into his shoulder.
"Why else did you keep on coming to me?" he asked huskily.
"The same reason you kept on wanting me." Her low voice was devilish. "Don't you realize a woman has hungers too?"
"And I don't mean anything to you but a satisfactory partner in bed?" His fingers trailed warmly down her spine.
"I didn't say that." She curled closer, her long legs seeking his.
He pretended to be hurt and stiff, holding her off. "You're using me," he accused, "I thought you liked being used-in bed?" She teased him with his own words to her.
Her hands were busy on his body, her skillful fingers tormenting. He couldn't keep up an act much longer.
"If you don't love me-" he began.
"Don't talk about love!" she said, impatiently.
"Why not?"
"People talk about love too much. They use empty words. They don't know what love is. They use the word to deceive."
Then he understood. Edythe no longer believed a man who said he loved her. She believed only in actions, in love-making, in caresses, and even more in gentleness tenderness, consideration.
He gave up trying to talk to her about love and marriage. He showed her with his hands, with his body, that he loved her. He drew them together and held her with loving hands, his kisses nuzzling her throat. One hand cupped a breast, squeezed it and played with the firm flesh. He bent his head over her, kissed, adored, caressed her, until her hands on his back began to urge him.
"Jed, Jed," she murmured. "Jed?"
He bent, explored, found, slid easily against her flesh. His head on her breast, he heard the quickened pounding of her heart as he proceeded slowly.
As he made love to her, he thought of the other times she had come to him. Sometimes he had been rough with her. He felt bad about that. If he had only realized, only known her doubts and fears, and had wooed her instead of taking her by force. But then again, if he had been gentle the first time, she would have left his apartment and he would never have known what he had missed.
Women were strange complex creatures, he decided, especially women like Edythe.
Her breathing was hard. She panted open-mouthed as he moved over her. "Jed, Jed, darling. Jed-Jed-oh, my darling."
He paused deliberately. He held up, and she clung to him, building up her passion. He smiled down at the intent face, the half-closed blue eyes, as she drove herself in a delighted frenzy.
When she tired, he moved again, a single stroke to drive them up to take-off point. She cried out, her fingernails digging in his back. Then they were rolling iver and back across the bed, dizzy with desire, Earth swept away, sky open for them, like flying, free-falling through the air. Jed saw stars behind his tight-closed eyes, stars and flashes of light as the delicious convulsions swept him through a timeless atmosphere of pure joy.
When he came back to Earth, he found Earth was a beautiful heaving breast on which his head rested. One arm was under her, one hand on her hips, and his legs still sprawled. He rolled away to let her catch her breath. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted as she struggled to remain in the paradise they had visited all too briefly.
He leaned up to look at her. She was more beautiful every time, he thought. Her blonde hair was tousled on the pillow, her lovely oval face flushed pink with exertion, her breasts taut and pointed, and her white skin dewy with perspiration. He studied the slim waist that twisted and curved when they had their loving battles. The long sleek arms that received him so graciously. The long legs, stirred, a knee bent languidly as she came back to full consciousness.
When he looked again at her face, her eyes were open.
"Hello," he said. "Hello, darling."
"Hello," she said. She reached up her arms and he bent over to receive her kiss. It was better than all the protestations of love he had ever heard from any other woman, this kiss of parted lips, aftermath of passion, promise of more passion to come.
The kiss led naturally to further intimacies. He turned her over on her stomach so he could kiss and explore the slender back. She lay quietly for a while until he had stirred her beyond waiting. Then she flung around and pulled him down to her.
There was no need for words. They met with frank hunger, and made sure each was satisfied, using each other, helping each other to end the hunger.
He slept sometime in the night. When he wakened he reached out for her in the darkness, fearful that she was gone, that she had left him before when he slept.
This time she was there, beside him under the single sheet, sleeping next to him, her breathing slow and calm. He put his head on the pillow beside hers, and exulted in the strange feeling he had.
He did not need to wake her and make her respond to him. He knew, deep in his inner being, that now they belonged to each other. She did love him-she proved it with each embrace.
He vowed he would make her marry him soon. He wanted to marry her, to have the right to protect and cherish, her. And her son, he thought. He smiled as he thought of the wide-eyed boy. He wanted to adopt the boy, and to have other children. Edythe would be a wonderful wife and mother. He had been seeking all his adult life for a woman like her.
Yes, they would marry. Build a house-a big house, big enough for a large family. And they wouldn't care about how often they got to the country club, or what anyone thought of them.
Edythe, he thought, full of incredulous delight. He had almost missed knowing her. But the fates had been kind, and she was here beside him.
He touched her shoulder lightly. She wakened, murmured drowsily, "What time is it?"
"Time for more love," he murmured, bending over her.
Her sleepy laugh was smothered in kisses.