In Name Only Read online

  Jill drew her breath in sharply. Why hadn't her uncle told her, she thought suddenly and resentfully. This Simon Todd wasn't the man she expected at all. She involuntarily took a step backward, but her visitor strode rapidly across the room, and taking her hand in his, drew her over to the couch.

  Deeply tanned with a high-cheekboned aesthetic face, he gazed solemnly at her out of black, brilliant eyes. "I'm sorry I've burst in so early," he said, a faint Texas accent coloring his voice. "Brazilian air schedules are a little quixotic, to say the least. I was certain you'd understand. Would you like to sit down?"

  Dumbly, unable to gather her senses, Jill did as she was told.

  Apparently not given to wasting time on preliminaries, Simon Todd pulled up a straight-backed parlor chair and sat down opposite her. "You never met your uncle."

  Jill shook her head.

  "He was the finest man I've ever known."

  "Was?" Jill asked faintly.

  His gaze, never flickering from her face, was quite unemotional. "I'm afraid that's what I'm here to talk to you about."

  Jill felt all at once that she might suffocate in the warm, closed room. "Tell me then," she said in a tight voice.

  He shifted in the chair but continued to watch her closely. "Miss Carteret, I'm afraid your uncle has had an accident."

  "He's dead, isn't he?" Jill said, fighting back tears. "That's what you came to tell me."

  He leaned back in his chair. "It's more complicated than that," he said after a few seconds.

  "Complicated? He's either dead or he isn't."

  His dark gaze washed over her, giving no hint of his feelings.

  "It's true, then," Jill said quietly.

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Was he—?" she hesitated. "Was he in much pain?"

  He stood up abruptly and circled the room, as if he found the clutter of furniture, its Victorian trappings, too much for him. Then he turned to her suddenly. "You should know that he was planning on coming up here to meet you and bring you back to Manaus with him, just before this happened. He meant to surprise you."

  Tears welled up in her eyes, tears for a man she had never met, genuine tears of mourning. Why hadn't he told her? It would have meant a lot to know he cared, to have been able to express her appreciation.

  Her visitor seemed not to notice. "His death, however," Todd went on, "alters nothing."

  Jill looked at him dully. "What do you mean?"

  "You must know that you're your uncle's heir." He waited a moment, standing before her, staring down at her, as if expecting a cry of joy, an expression that after all, it was only Daniel Carteret's money that interested her. He wouldn't understand, that much was clear. She had been, in a second, cut down, cut free from all family ties. There was no one left, no one at all. The size of her uncle's estate, or if, indeed, he had a fortune at all, had little meaning. She was alone. Incredibly alone.

  "With stipulations, I'm afraid," Todd went on. "Stipulations made with my agreement, as a matter of fact. For the sake of Carteret-Todd, there was no other way. Entirely too much at stake," he added vaguely. "Too many workers involved, too many families dependent."

  Jill stared at him. He acted as though she would make trouble if she could. But trouble about what? Why? What did he thing she could do or would do?

  "Mr. Todd," she said, suddenly impatient. "Would you mind making yourself clear?"

  He was unruffled. "Miss Carteret, your uncle was a man in his prime when he died. He had made a will several years ago, leaving you his entire estate. He expected you would come live with him and that one day you or your husband would assume his role in the company. He lived long enough after his accident to add a codicil to his will." Todd paused and looked at her curiously, as if seeing her whole for the first time. "A codicil I helped draw up," he went on briskly. "I assure you it won't be an easy will to break. As a matter of fact, I've been named his executor."

  "I really think this is an odd time to discuss his will," Jill said resentfully. "I don't think you should go on. It's not right."

  "I'm afraid, Miss Carteret, this is the only time we'll discuss it." His voice, commanding and icy, seemed to shut a door on any objections she might have. She sat very still, watching his restless pacing. Whatever the current was, it was obvious she would have to swim with it.

  "It's dangerous," he said, stopping suddenly, glowering down at her. "The Amazon is the antithesis of Chicago. Fresh, green, unexplored. And dangerous."

  "I'm afraid that sounds a little like Chicago in the summer," Jill commented drily.

  "Not quite. Hospitals or simple first aid treatment are available when a man has an accident in Chicago. In the summer."

  Jill was silent. Simon Todd seemed anxious to put her in her place. Was it because he found himself suddenly bound up with a young and inexperienced woman and he was disappointed? But why should he be disappointed? What was this curious codicil?

  "Your uncle was hurt in a logging accident," he went on. "I was in Manaus at the time. He was in a small first aid station near the logging site when I got to him. He knew he hadn't much time left. We discussed his will, his plans for you." Todd stopped pacing and again sat down on the chair opposite Jill. It was obvious that the memory of the scene was still a painful one.

  "He was worried about you," he continued, his voice rough with emotion now. "He was not a man much given to expressing himself, but I understood that much. And he was worried about one other thing." He paused and went on. "He felt that you couldn't cope with the sudden change in your fortunes. He felt you would be ripe for every gigolo from here to the Argentine."

  Jill suppressed an involuntary smile. Her uncle really knew nothing about her, if he believed she was as foolish as that. Ripe for gigolos, indeed.

  "If you had been any younger, he would have appointed me your guardian," Todd added. He paused for a long moment. "In a way, he has."

  Jill was unable to take in the implications of his remarks. "I assure you I don't need a guardian," she told him coolly. "I'm quite old enough to take care of myself, thank you."

  … He ignored her comment. "Your uncle and I developed Carteret-Todd from a small firm to one with holdings throughout Brazil. Coffee plantations, mining, and now we're digging for manganese in the Amazonian jungle. None of which," he added, "need concern you. Your job will consist of nothing more than enjoying your new status."

  "What do you mean, enjoy my new status? I'm not just a windup toy, you know. Wind her up and she starts enjoying herself. There are other things in life, Mr. Todd. I thought when I went to Brazil, I would be a help to my uncle in his business, as a matter of fact. That's what I studied Portuguese for."

  He listened to her with an air of amusement, as if she were talking nonsense. "You'll like Manaus," he went on, when she had run out of steam. "It's quite an unusual city, sitting on the edge of the jungle, old-fashioned, yet as busy, busier than Chicago."

  "I know all about Manaus," she said. "I made it a point to learn everything."

  He smiled, again ignoring her remarks. "You'll have all the servants you want. You can even change your decor to suit your moods. You won't be bored, I assure you." He gave her a faint smile, as if the worst sort of hedonism, the kind that had worried her uncle, could be expected the moment she took up her position as heiress to the Carteret estate. "Of course there are limits to that sort of thing. We wouldn't want you making a fool of yourself, either. You'll have a certain position to maintain. You understand that, of course."

  Jill's impatience grew by the second. "What in the world are you talking about?" She stood up and walked agitatedly over to the fireplace in which the embers of a fire glowed fitfully. "I'm not certain about traveling to Manaus now that my uncle is dead. I need time to think. I've a life here, too, you know. People I'm committed to." She was talking nonsense and knew it, but she did need time to think. "I would have gone to Manaus when my uncle was alive. I wanted to go, I dreamed of it. And I owed him a lot. He was all I had in th
e world, but now, I don't know." She realized with a sudden shock, that the decision was entirely hers. She had no one, no one at all, to whom she could turn for disinterested advice. Not Mrs. Hughes, who had already given her approval with her few impressed words, not Derek, who would, of course, object. Not even her college roommate who might be jealous.

  "You can, of course, maintain an apartment in Rio," Simon Todd went on. "In case you need an injection of culture, although of course we have enough of that. You've heard of the Teatro Amazonia, of course."

  "Of course," Jill said, still impatient. "The opera house. I know what it looks like, when it was built, and why. That's all beside the point."

  "Well, I've no objections to your flying up to Chicago, if it doesn't mean trouble. I can't nail you down. But I don't think you'll lack for fun and friends in Manaus. And your life will be your own. Completely your own, within reason."

  "Within reason!" Jill burst in angrily. "Mr. Todd, would you mind getting to the point? Your plans for my future are of absolutely no interest to me. You're very kind to come here and let me know what happened, but beyond that, I really won't stand for interference."

  "I'm afraid my plans for your future will be of interest to you, Miss Carteret. Jill. Your uncle, you see, wished me particularly to concern myself with your future."

  Jill sighed. Would he never get to the point? "And?"

  "According to the codicil of Daniel Carteret, your uncle, you will come into his estate as soon as you are Mrs. Simon Todd." He paused, as if waiting for her to respond, but then went on hurriedly. His briefcase lay on a corner chair and he pointed to it. "I've a copy of the will with me for you to see."

  It took a few seconds for his statement to make sense. Jill frowned, for some reason not believing a word he had said. "Mrs. Simon Todd? You? Do you mean I'm supposed to marry you in order to inherit my uncle's estate? Are you joking?"

  He eyed her with amusement, as if her acceptance were a foregone conclusion, and all her comments merely subterfuge. "I believe I made myself perfectly clear."

  She began to wander about the room, suppressing a desire to scream or to laugh hysterically. "Never," she said at last, decisively. "Never." It was too inhuman.

  She walked to the parlor door and flung it open. "You can take the estate and, and—," she stopped and threw up her hands. "And I don't care." She stormed out of the room into the hall, nearly knocking Mrs. Hughes over. The landlady, without embarrassment, shook her head at Jill, as if admonishing her to keep cool. It was clear that Mrs. Hughes had heard the conversation and gave her wholehearted approval to the idea of marriage to the handsome stranger. So much for asking advice from Mrs. Hughes.

  "Mr. Todd is leaving," she told the landlady haughtily.

  "But," said Mrs. Hughes.

  Jill inarched quickly to her room and had almost closed the door behind her, when she was aware that Todd was behind her, his hand against the door. Jill, turning, saw Mrs. Hughes standing in the hall watching them, her face a kaleidoscope of emotion.

  "Independent, a spitfire," he said, "and not at all practical." He followed her into her room, and closed the door behind him.

  "Mr. Todd will be leaving in a few minutes, Mrs. Hughes," she called as the lock clicked in place.

  "You really haven't thought about your inheritance, have you?" he asked, his tone almost kindly, as if that alone puzzled him.

  "I don't believe my uncle would attach that kind of codicil to his will," Jill said crossly. "It's perfectly gross."

  "Why?" he laughed. "Am I so repulsive to you?"

  "It doesn't matter what you are, Mr. Todd. I'm not a slave and I won't be bought and sold, not for any amount."

  "Your uncle was like a father to me," Todd said, patiently and without rancor. "We'd been partners for fifteen years and there was never a quarrel between us. I might have talked him into another kind of settlement completely, long before this, when we made out our original wills. But if he never met you, still, you were his brother's child and he loved you as if you were his own. That stands for something, a kind of loyalty I intend to honor."

  "Honor or control?"

  "Look, young lady, you can back away all you want. The money will be yours now, if you marry me, or later, when you're thirty-five years old. Thirty-five and safely married to this Chicago admirer of yours. You do have one, I suppose." He smiled, as if almost admiring her for her willingness to give up a fortune for love. "In the meantime, my position as head of Carteret-Todd won't change. And if you choose to wait more than a dozen years for your inheritance, so be it. It will be under my control, no matter what. That," he said in a brisk, brutal manner, "is the way your uncle wanted it, and it's the way," he stopped and surveyed her from head to toe, "it's the way I want it."

  Jill shivered. His look, piercing and forthright, seemed to touch her body in a cold, clinical way that frightened her.

  "There's nothing more to be said." He went to her closet and opened the door. He pushed his hands rapidly through her clothes until he stopped at a simple navy blue dress, its skirt a fan of lavish pleats. He removed it and thrust it at her. "Here, put this on. I've a three o'clock plane to New York. That doesn't leave us very much time."

  "What are you talking about?" Jill asked, looking at the dress as if she had never seen it before.

  "Blood test, passport, visa. Where's your birth certificate?"

  "Wait a minute," Jill cried. "Wait just a minute."

  He had grabbed a pair of navy blue open high-heeled shoes. "What is it now?" he asked impatiently.

  "I don't love you, Mr. Todd." The words to Jill seemed suddenly funny, but she did not smile.

  Todd burst out laughing, the sound completely without mirth, however. "Who said anything about love?"

  "I don't love you," she said. "I could never love you."

  "What has love to do with it?"

  Jill stared at him. "Good heavens," she said. "I must be hearing things."

  "Oh, I see, it's true then. There's someone you're already committed to."

  "No," Jill said, "that's not what I mean."

  "Then there's no one. Fine. There's no one, nothing to keep you here in Chicago."

  Jill stamped her foot angrily. "Stop putting words in my mouth. You're the most exasperating man I've ever met."

  He handed her the shoes. "Get dressed." He stood waiting, as if he expected her to undress in front of him. Jill remained where she was, the idea of marrying this man horrifying her, yet taking root in the most insidious way.

  "I see," he said. "There is someone, someone whom it's worth turning down a fortune for."

  "Mr. Todd, there is no one, at least no one who would concern you, no one here in Chicago. But I believe marriages are made—," she paused, but he caught up her words.

  "Made in heaven?" He laughed. "A charming idea, but in my experience, simply a dream of which romantic novels are made. Happiness is being free, having work you enjoy, even companions you care for, but love?" He took a few steps toward her, and putting his lips against hers, ground her mouth roughly with his. She held tightly to the dress and shoes, and knew in a moment that a year of Derek's kisses were nothing compared to the instant touch of Simon Todd's warm lips against hers.

  "That's love," he said, pushing her away and laughing. "Body contact. That and nothing more."

  Jill put her hand, dress and all, to her lips for a moment. She could think of nothing to say.

  "Miss Carteret," Todd went on. "You may wonder what sort of man I am, where I come from, what I've done with my life. I'm a man who's used to taking chances. I travel a great deal. I am, in fact, scarcely husband material. That shouldn't bother you at all when you consider the stakes."

  "But love, a home, children," Jill sputtered.

  His mouth curled in a sarcastic smile. "Love, a home, children. Is that all that's on your mind?"

  Jill stared at him disbelievingly. "It is when you mention marriage. I mean not between you and me. I mean when people marry for love."
Her voice trailed off.

  He laughed. "You've been reading fairy stories. I'm offering something better than fairy stories. I'm offering you reality in the form of a vast fortune."

  "You're offering it to me." Jill stated it more as a fact than a question, but still, she wanted an answer.

  "That is the word," he told her. "A word often used in business."

  "I don't understand why my decision should matter to you," she persisted. "From what you've said, you'll control my uncle's estate no matter what."

  "Your uncle wanted you to inherit now. He only wished to protect you from yourself."

  "He needn't have worried," she said almost to herself. "I know the value of money more than any-one." When you have none, you learn its value soon enough.

  Simon Todd stared at her curiously, the smile now completely erased. "It's an offer you can't resist."

  She remained silent, her heart still beating heavily. This wonderfully attractive man was willing to marry her because her uncle wished it. There had to be something wrong.

  "Don't you know anything about loyalty?" he asked suddenly, as if he understood her thoughts. "Don't you know anything about the loyalty of one friend for another? Or is romantic love the only thing you know?"

  She stared at him in amazement. "Mr. Todd," she began.

  "Simon," he corrected.

  "Simon." She paused, trying to frame the words as simply as possible. "Let me get this straight once and for all. You're marrying me for love of my uncle. I'm marrying you for love of a man I never knew. But if there were no inheritance, I would not marry you, and you would not even offer to marry me."

  He gave her a strange smile. "I think, Jill Carteret, you've got a lot to learn about love."

  Her smile in response, was withering. "I suppose you've appointed yourself my teacher."

  Simon reached out and brushed his fingers lightly through her hair. "Get dressed. My schedule is tight."

  Maybe he was right, she told herself. At that moment, with his deep tan, he seemed as out of place in the gray world of Chicago as she felt. Romantic love was—what? He was offering her the one thing she had never imagined—the safety of marriage, and a fortune.