Her Dearest Enemy by Elizabeth Lane

little wife—maybe even to hate her? How long before Jenny discovershow he feels?”
    The color had faded from Harriet’s face. Her handcrept to her throat. “Is that what this is about?” sheasked in a strangled voice. “Are you judging mybrother by your own measure? How dare you? Youdon’t even know him!”
    Brandon leaned back into the pillows, studying herthrough narrowed eyelids. “Maybe not. But I knowhow life plays out when two people have to get married. And I won’t have any man putting Jenny throughthe hell that her mother went through with me.”
    The silence in the room was absolute, as if the airitself had frozen. Harriet’s fingers trickled down thefront of her dress as if her hand had lost the strengthto control them. Brandon had not meant to tell herso much, and he certainly had no plans to tell her therest of the story. But he wasn’t sorry for what he’dsaid. Maybe now, at least, she would understand hisobjection to the marriage.
    “Does Jenny know?” she asked softly.
    He shook his head. “Jenny thinks she was bornprematurely. You aren’t going to tell her the truth,are you?”
    “No.” She looked uncertain. “No, of course not.But maybe you should tell her yourself, now thatshe’s grown.”
    “Why? It wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldonly cause her pain. She’ll have enough of that withoutmy adding more.”
    “More than you’ve already given her, you mean?”Harriet’s voice had sharpened.
    Brandon exhaled and picked up the ledger bookthat lay open on the bed. Harriet Smith had collectedher pound of flesh for the day. He’d be damned if hewas going to give her his blood, as well. “As you see,I have work to do,” he said. “Help yourself to Jenny’sclothes. You know where her room is.” Heglanced up as a thought struck him. “Did you comehere on foot?”
    “Yes, I came straight from school.”
    “Then you won’t be able to carry much away, willyou?” Brandon made a show of focusing his attentionon the ledger. “Go ahead and choose a few things totake with you today. I’ll have Helga box up the rest andsend them over in the wagon by the end of the week.”
    Had he sounded uncaring enough? Brandon wondered.Had he managed to hide the fact that eventhinking about Jenny’s empty room triggered a gnawingsensation in his gut that never quite went away?Well, fine. If he could convince Harriet Smith hewas nothing but an unfeeling monster, maybe she’dstop coming around and sticking nails into his flesh.
    And maybe she’d even stop haunting him like asuccubus in those maddening dreams.
    He dipped the pen into the inkwell, aware that shewas still standing beside his bed, an oddly knowingexpression on her face.
    “As I mentioned, I’ve got work to do,” he saidbrusquely.
    “So I see. And is it always your custom, Mr. Calhoun,to work with your ledger upside down?”
    Brandon glanced down at his lap, cursing underhis breath as the inverted numbers swam into focus.She had just humiliated him soundly, and he wantedto snap back with something that would cut her toribbons. But his sleep-drugged mind was not up toclever retorts today, which was just as well sinceMiss Harriet Smith had turned on her heel andwalked calmly out of the room.
    Brandon lay back against the pillows, his faceburning as the brisk cadence of her footsteps diedaway down the hall. Under most circumstances hewas a self-contained and rational man. So what wasit about the drab, plainspoken schoolteacher thatturned him into a blithering beast whenever the twoof them were alone together?
    It was certainly not her allure, although she waspassably good-looking. As for wit, she possessed farmore than her share. Brandon liked intelligence in awoman, but in Harriet’s case she used her sharpnessto irritate, not to charm.
    So why wasn’t he simply indifferent to her? Whydid she have the power to rouse him to a froth of helplessfury? And why was it her eyes, her face he sawin those erotic dreams that had tormented