Rebecca giggled. “We’ve got to dress and leave. We can’t be here when they return.”
Bret gazed at her averted head, at the generous line of her body under the coverlet; then, neither hasty nor hesitating, he stood and dressed.
The song was over now and his mind was empty of every sound, of everything he thought he was feeling before he walked into this room.
Rebecca savored the late afternoon with her new, handsome lover, arm in arm, strolling down the boardwalk. The balmy Gulf breeze rustled through her pinned-up hair, making her long to let it down again so that Bret might run his fingers through it as he did back in the privacy of her bedroom.
She was unaffected by the judgmental frowns and raised eyebrows of Bret’s acquaintances. Not even the snickers behind her back as they walked away could spoil the joy of each moment her arm rested on his.
They lunched together at a beach café on fresh lobster and seafood salad. Bret ordered a bottle of expensive white wine and raised a glass in her honor.
“To a most beautiful and wonderful woman. Not a fairer one has this city ever seen, nor can she hope to match while breath is drawn from your enchanting red lips.”
Rebecca brought her napkin to her lips and tried to hide the flush she felt tingling up her cheeks. “Bret.” She looked away from him for a moment, feeling she might cry. “It’s you who’s so wonderful. I’m not afraid when I’m with you.”
He took a sip from his glass then placed it down on the coral pink tablecloth. “I’m flattered, Rebecca. But what in the world do you have to be afraid of?”
“Everything can change so quickly . . .” she glanced away “. . . in a flash.” She tried her best to hold back the tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “I would die rather than cause you a moment’s pain, if only I knew that you would forgive me.”
“My dearest love.” Bret raised her hand and kissed it openly in front of all the patrons. “You cause me nothing but the most sincere joy and pleasure. Forgive me, but I don’t understand what—”
“Please, let’s speak no more about it” she insisted, conscious of the flushed heat in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Bret.” she tittered. “Sometimes a woman’s thoughts are best kept in silence rather than chattering away like a school girl.”
He leaned his chin on his cupped hand. “But, as young as you are, you’re not a school girl. I mean no disrespect, Rebecca, on the contrary. You know something of the world too, what impulses and passions are always waiting to tempt us.”
Bret smiled affectionately and raised his head from his hand. “I hope you don’t think I’m lecturing. I only wish for you to be happy and enjoy those feelings you have for me when we’re together.”
Rebecca reached across the tablecloth and squeezed his hands. “I do, I do, but . . .” She looked away from him for a few moments. “And I want to help you with your business.”
Bret sat up straight in his chair, his expression suddenly alert as if waking from a dream. Rebecca swallowed. Uncle Cade had been right, and although saddened by the realization, it did little to diminish the surging intensity of her feelings for Bret.
She sipped her lemonade. “But I still have other responsibilities that make it difficult, that pull me in ways different from what I feel in my heart.”
Little by little he removed his warm hands from her entwined, cool fingers. “That’s a burden we all carry,” he answered, his voice sounding more distant. “There is always something in the past holding us back, weighing us down like a shackle, and you wonder when you’ll ever find the strength to finally break free of it. And that’s part of the reason I believe so strongly in what we’re doing in Beaumont . . .”
Whispered conversations rose and died like the Gulf breeze around Rebecca. She sighed and listened to Bret’s polite request to be introduced to some of the more affluent Society members, preferably from out of state.
Bret sounded like Uncle Cade in many ways—giving the appearance of command and control, but underneath, there were wounds that had never healed. Would her love only prove to be another torment to him?
Rebecca brightened her expression and made a conscious effort to ignore the probing glances of unconcealed contempt directed toward her. “I was thinking of buying