would silently mock the way she had thrown herself at him or pretend that it had never happened. She was uncertain what her own attitude should be.
Her own emotional upheaval was difficult to understand. She couldn't make up her mind whether she had been carried away by a wave of love or the backwash of sexual abstinence. In the end, she adopted a wait-and-see attitude and let Jed take the first step.
The first day there had been the crushing sensation that he was completely indifferent to her, aloofly so. The way he had of holding himself apart from others in their presence was more pronounced than ever. Then, that evening, she had felt his gaze dwelling on her with thoughtful, almost brooding intensity. He rarely addressed any comment to her, keeping the main flow of conversation with his mother, but neither did he subject her to any taunting jibes or mocking looks.
The waiting game was a difficult one for Elizabeth to play. Hope would alternately rise and fall until she felt she needed a barometer to record the erratic fluctuations. The physical attraction Jed held for her was undeniable. The most accidental contact had her senses leaping in immediate response. And she guessed that he had only to take her in his arms and she would be his for the asking.
Five days she went through the tortues of Tantalus. Jed's previous routine didn't vary much; he spent most of the day away from the house and some evenings. Yet there was never any pretense on his part that nothing had happened. The very second she thought there was, Jed would send her a look that was meant to remind her.
How much longer was this going to go on? Elizabeth sighed to herself. Painstakingly she trimmed off the crust of the bread, varying the design of each slice from circles to squares to triangles. Flaky cherry tarts were cooling on the counter, the tarts and the canapés she was making were refreshments for Rebecca's Literary Club women. Their monthly meeting was being held here this time and Elizabeth had naturally been requested to take on the task of fixing the light refreshments.
"Can I help, Mom?" Elbows propped on the table, chin cradled in her hands, Amy glanced up at Elizabeth.
"May I help," she corrected automatically. She pushed the small bowls of egg salad, ham salad and tuna salad to her daughter along with a knife. "You can help me with the sandwiches."
"May help," Amy corrected her mother with impish humor.
A slow smile spread across Elizabeth's face as she ruefully nodded an acknowledgement of her own grammatical error. Cooking and preparing foods was another interest of Elizabeth's that Amy appeared to be beginning to share.
"How long are those ladies going to be here?" Amy asked in a less than enthusiastic tone.
"Probably until after four," Elizabeth answered. At her daughter's grimace, she added, "It would be best if you stayed in your room until it's time for the refreshments."
"I suppose Mrs. Cargmore is going to be here," Amy grumbled, then adopted a mimicking voice. '"Children should be seen and not heard."'
"At least not too often," Jed added in conclusion.
The bread knife clattered to the floor, narrowly missing Elizabeth's foot as she spun around to face him. She tried to cover her confusion by bending to the floor to retrieve the knife, but in the next second Jed was kneeling beside her, handing her the knife. For all the amused mockery in his smile, his eyes were golden warm in her face.
"Someone should teach you to be careful with knives or you're going to end up chopping off your toe," he scolded gently.
Her pulse was accelerating at an alarming pace. She straightened quickly, trying to hide the flow that brought an emerald brilliance to her eyes.
"You startled me," she breathed in defense.
"Is that what I did?" Jed asked with a questing arch to one brow.
Bouncing her gaze away from his face, Elizabeth realized that he knew the way he disturbed her. He made a lazy, sweeping appraisal of her from head to toe, his
Her own emotional upheaval was difficult to understand. She couldn't make up her mind whether she had been carried away by a wave of love or the backwash of sexual abstinence. In the end, she adopted a wait-and-see attitude and let Jed take the first step.
The first day there had been the crushing sensation that he was completely indifferent to her, aloofly so. The way he had of holding himself apart from others in their presence was more pronounced than ever. Then, that evening, she had felt his gaze dwelling on her with thoughtful, almost brooding intensity. He rarely addressed any comment to her, keeping the main flow of conversation with his mother, but neither did he subject her to any taunting jibes or mocking looks.
The waiting game was a difficult one for Elizabeth to play. Hope would alternately rise and fall until she felt she needed a barometer to record the erratic fluctuations. The physical attraction Jed held for her was undeniable. The most accidental contact had her senses leaping in immediate response. And she guessed that he had only to take her in his arms and she would be his for the asking.
Five days she went through the tortues of Tantalus. Jed's previous routine didn't vary much; he spent most of the day away from the house and some evenings. Yet there was never any pretense on his part that nothing had happened. The very second she thought there was, Jed would send her a look that was meant to remind her.
How much longer was this going to go on? Elizabeth sighed to herself. Painstakingly she trimmed off the crust of the bread, varying the design of each slice from circles to squares to triangles. Flaky cherry tarts were cooling on the counter, the tarts and the canapés she was making were refreshments for Rebecca's Literary Club women. Their monthly meeting was being held here this time and Elizabeth had naturally been requested to take on the task of fixing the light refreshments.
"Can I help, Mom?" Elbows propped on the table, chin cradled in her hands, Amy glanced up at Elizabeth.
"May I help," she corrected automatically. She pushed the small bowls of egg salad, ham salad and tuna salad to her daughter along with a knife. "You can help me with the sandwiches."
"May help," Amy corrected her mother with impish humor.
A slow smile spread across Elizabeth's face as she ruefully nodded an acknowledgement of her own grammatical error. Cooking and preparing foods was another interest of Elizabeth's that Amy appeared to be beginning to share.
"How long are those ladies going to be here?" Amy asked in a less than enthusiastic tone.
"Probably until after four," Elizabeth answered. At her daughter's grimace, she added, "It would be best if you stayed in your room until it's time for the refreshments."
"I suppose Mrs. Cargmore is going to be here," Amy grumbled, then adopted a mimicking voice. '"Children should be seen and not heard."'
"At least not too often," Jed added in conclusion.
The bread knife clattered to the floor, narrowly missing Elizabeth's foot as she spun around to face him. She tried to cover her confusion by bending to the floor to retrieve the knife, but in the next second Jed was kneeling beside her, handing her the knife. For all the amused mockery in his smile, his eyes were golden warm in her face.
"Someone should teach you to be careful with knives or you're going to end up chopping off your toe," he scolded gently.
Her pulse was accelerating at an alarming pace. She straightened quickly, trying to hide the flow that brought an emerald brilliance to her eyes.
"You startled me," she breathed in defense.
"Is that what I did?" Jed asked with a questing arch to one brow.
Bouncing her gaze away from his face, Elizabeth realized that he knew the way he disturbed her. He made a lazy, sweeping appraisal of her from head to toe, his
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