Love Is Elected (10 page)

"Oh, you were Elizabeth Remington. Why, I've looked at my mother's yearbook dozens of times. But of course I never knew who you were," Kara exclaimed.

Elizabeth Jordan patted the young woman's hand. "I know how much your mother meant to you, Kara," she said gently. "She was a wonderful person. And I was just sick when I heard about the plane crash that took her and your father. We had lost track of each other soon after she got married, and I didn't even know that she had a daughter until yesterday."

Kara nodded numbly.

"I know she would have been so proud of you. Frank Adams tells me you're a public relations specialist. Did you know your mother had a promising career as a journalist before she got married? She made much better use of her education than I did. I got married right after graduation and had Matt ten months later."

Kara studied Mrs. Jordan. Here was a woman who seemed to know more about her mother than she herself did. Maybe this explained why she felt so comfortable and secure with Matt's mother.

"We'll have to reminisce sometime soon," Mrs. Jordan promised. "But right now I want to talk about you and Matt."

Kara felt herself growing tense. How could she talk to Matt's mother about the confusing swirl of events that had swept her up into this crazy marriage?

But Mrs. Jordan seemed unaware or unwilling to acknowledge her distress.

"My philosophy is that everything always turns out for the best, Kara. And even though this marriage had a rather unusual beginning, I'm sure that you and Matt will be able to work things out."

Kara shook her head. "I don't think Matt wants to work things out. He's difficult to understand."

"Well, I know my son," the older woman insisted. "I don't think he would have married you unless he wanted to. He's never let himself be railroaded into anything he was dead set against. And I know with my mother's instinct that you're not indifferent to him either."

Kara opened her mouth to deny this, but she couldn't find the words. She knew she was physically attracted to Matt—more attracted than she had been to any man before—but could it be more than that? And what about Matt? What did he really feel for her? She knew he wanted to take her to bed. But did he feel anything besides lust for her? she wondered.

"I know this is a difficult way for you to start married life, Kara," Mrs. Jordan told her. "It's going to be hard for you and hard for Matt too, because he's always been so independent. But if he had to get into this kind of situation, I'm glad it's with a girl like you. And I want you to know that I'm your friend, and I'll be here if you need me."

The women had become so absorbed in their conversation that they were not aware that Matt was standing in the doorway.

"Defecting to the enemy camp already, Mother?" he asked wryly.

At the sound of his voice Kara jumped. But Mrs. Jordan dismissed his remark with a smile.

"Nonsense, Matthew, there are no enemies here. Now why don't you show Kara around the farm for a little while and I'll see how brunch is coming. Maybe half an hour's walk around the estate in this gorgeous spring weather will perk up your appetites."

Mrs. Jordan got up and strode from the room, leaving Matt and Kara staring at each other warily.

It was he who finally broke the silence. "As you may have noticed," he said lightly, "Mother's word here at Windy Willow Farm is law. So let me show you around the place. We can start with the paddocks."

Matt led Kara through the sliding glass doors in the family room onto a huge patio covered with a yellow canvas awning. From there they took a winding flagstone path toward the paddocks.

"How many horses does your mother have?" Kara inquired.

"About thirty now, but we'll be selling half a dozen yearlings over the next few months. Quite a few of mother's horses have racing potential, you know. In fact, Maryland Dancer, who's running in the Preakness next month, was one of our foals."

"Does your mother train racing horses?" Kara asked with interest.

"No, she just raises them."

They stopped by a white fence to admire several young colts and fillies grazing inside.

"Too bad I didn't bring some sugar," Matt observed. "I guess I just don't come back here often enough anymore."

Kara glanced at her husband. He seemed so much more relaxed and approachable in this setting. Looking over at her he grinned and grabbed her hand.

"Let's go down to the barn. I used to work there every day after school helping Lew and his men."

He started off at a brisk walk. And Kara had to run to keep up with his long strides. As Matt pulled the heavy barn door open, the hinges squeaked protestingly.

"Can't understand why one of the hands hasn't fixed that," he observed, looking around the barn.

But there was no one inside and no horses in the spacious stalls. Matt led Kara to a ladder near one wall.

"Come on up to the hayloft," he invited playfully. "I used to fool around up here all the time when I didn't want to do my homework. But Lew always knew where to find me."

Kara looked doubtfully at the ladder. But Matt had already started to climb. If she stayed down on the ground he would probably think her a bad sport. So she grasped the wooden bars and began to climb.

When she got to the top of the ladder, Matt was waiting. He took her hand and helped her up through the opening in the ceiling.

"Let me show you the view," he urged. Releasing a latch on a trapdoor in the wall, he pulled it open to reveal a panoramic scene of the pastures below.

In her high-heeled boots, Kara found it hard to walk in the deep straw. As she moved toward the opening, the heel of her left foot caught in one of the rafters and she pitched forward.

Mart's arm shot out to catch her, but her weight sent him off balance and the two of them fell over into the soft, dry hay.

Kara sat up and started to brush herself off. "Your mother will think we've been tumbling up here," she giggled.

"That's not a bad idea," Matt drawled, pulling her back down against him in the soft bed of loose straw. No longer laughing, Kara tried to push him away. But the strong band of his arms only pulled her into a more intimate position.

"As long as we're going to be found guilty any-way, we might as well commit the crime," he murmured, his lips feathering light kisses on her face.

"No. What if somebody finds us here?" Kara argued. But Matt silenced her protest with a hard, demanding kiss. She felt her lips part as his tongue made daring exploration of her mouth.

Against her will a wild excitement was growing within her and she slid her arms around his waist, pulling her pliant body against his taut muscles. His lips were on her hair, her face, her neck, sending shivers up her spine. Then his hands tugged free her blouse from the waist band of her skirt. She felt strong fingers caressing the sensitive skin of her back, trailing little darts of pleasure across her flesh. Then, in one fluid motion, he had unhooked her bra. His hands slid around to the front to cup her breasts and her nipples hardened at his exploration.

"Oh, Matt," she moaned, lost in the swirl of overpowering sensations he was creating. His insistent hands and mouth were shaping her body to his will. She was under his control. He could do with her what he wished. All thoughts of the real reason for this marriage had been banished by his drugging caresses. The only thing that existed was this moment and a deep aching need within her.

From somewhere far away she heard the squeaking of hinges. At the sound Matt pulled away from her and sat up alertly. Below them, the voice of Lew McAlister drifted up toward the hayloft.

"I know you're up there Matt. It doesn't take a genius to figure out the first place you'd take Kara was where you used to initiate all your old girlfriends to farm life."

"Get lost, Lew," Matt rasped. "We'll be down in a minute."

Kara could hear Lew chuckling as he sauntered out. She sat up. The situation held no humor for her. Outrage flashed in her violet eyes.

"So, I'm just another one of your rolls in the hay," she accused vehemently, as she tried to pull her clothing back in order.

Matt didn't answer.

"Lew has a really poor sense of timing," he observed, brushing hay from his own clothes. "Maybe he's forgotten we're on our honeymoon," he added.

"But I haven't forgotten why we got married," Kara shot back.

"Oh yes you did," her husband corrected. "Don't deny it. Your body told me you wanted me just as much as I wanted you."

Brusquely Kara turned away from him and started down the ladder. It was a somber pair of newlyweds who made their way back to the main house. But when they reached the side door, Matt put his hand on Kara's arm.

"There's a powder room right inside here," he gestured. "You can repair the damage to your appearance there."

Kara nodded, knowing full well she could never repair the damage her self-esteem had just suffered.

A few minutes later she joined Matt and Mrs. Jordan in the dining room. A sumptuous buffet of country ham, scrambled eggs, apple fritters, cinnamon buns and fresh strawberries was spread out on the sideboard along with silver pots of tea and coffee.

"I thought we could serve ourselves," Mrs. Jordan told Kara, "since I like to give the servants an early day on Sunday."

Kara watched Matt fill his plate and pour a cup of coffee. But she had lost her appetite and only took enough to be polite.

However, Mrs. Jordan seemed not to notice the strained atmosphere.

"I've been thinking," she said, when she had brought her own plate and cup to the table. "We should have a wedding reception for the two of you very soon."

"A wedding reception?" Kara was stunned.

"Why yes, my dear, there will be enough speculation about your marriage as it is. We must do things properly and introduce you to all our friends at a formal reception."

"Is that necessary, Mother?" Matt asked.

"Politically, I think it is," Mrs. Jordan assured him. "And besides, all our friends would feel very hurt if we don't have them over to meet Kara."

Matt nodded. "I suppose you're right," he agreed. "But we will have to find something suitable for Kara to wear."

Kara's violet eyes flashed. She was about to make a scathing retort to Matt, but he shot her a warning glance.

Mrs. Jordan leaped into the conversational breach.

"Now Matt, I'm sure there's nothing wrong with Kara's taste in clothing," she soothed. "Her wardrobe just doesn't reflect her new position." She turned to Kara and continued. "If you'd permit me, I'm sure it would be loads of fun for the two of us to go on a shopping trip to Bethesda together. I'd love to help you spend some of Matt's money at I. Magnin's and Bloomingdales."

Mrs. Jordan's smile was so warm that Kara found herself smiling in return.

"When do you want to go?" Kara asked.

"The sooner the better, my dear. How about tomorrow? I'll want to get the invitations printed for the reception, too. We can have it in, let's see, a week."

"A week? But that's so soon," Kara gasped.

"The sooner we introduce you as Matt's wife, the better it will be for his candidacy," Mrs. Jordan said reassuringly. Then she pushed back her chair and went to the sideboard for another cup of coffee. The subject was apparently closed.