In Name Only Read online

  His expression turned serious. "I want you to understand something right now, Jill. You can count on me, on me, no matter what happens." He reached out and took her hand. "Do you understand what I'm saying? You'll have to take everything I say and do on trust. I know that. But never underestimate the affection in which I held your uncle, and by osmosis if you want to call it that, I am transferring to you."

  His hand, warm and strong, sent ripples of pleasure through her. She thought, surprising herself with the clarity of it, that she might have no trouble at all falling in love with Simon Todd. No trouble at all. Her uncle must have understood that when he added the codicil to his will. Still, there was something too remote, too enigmatic about the man. Something she could not quite understand. There was something kept hidden, but which she was afraid could be read in his eyes, if she dared look too close.

  He released her hand and sat back in his chair. "About your clothes. I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought you'd like to be prepared. The women in Brazil are extremely chic. They take pride in their bodies. They carry themselves like queens. You'll be entering a world of great sophistication, great elegance, even in Manaus. Think you can handle it?"

  Jill was perplexed. He seemed to have peeled away her armor, layer by layer and exposed her innocence, her naiveté. He was, in a way, prepared to be ashamed of her, and he was warning her ahead. She summoned up her most correct Portuguese. "If you're sorry you've started this, we can call a halt to the proceedings right now."

  He stared at her, the cigarette sending up a lazy blue smoke signal. "No, senhorita," he answered, in equally correct Portuguese, "I just think you should be prepared for a world you've never known before."

  Jill laughed. "You've told me about the beautiful women of Brazil, with whom I suppose you're quite experienced. You've told me nothing about the men."

  He did not respond. In his eyes she detected a look of both curiosity and anger, as if he recognized suddenly that he really knew nothing about her, that she might not, after all, be merely a too thin child in need of lessons in sophistication and plumping out.

  "As my wife," he said in a controlled voice, "you'll live the life I prescribe for you. There's nothing you need to know about anyone."

  "And those holidays in Rio you offered me earlier?" she asked sarcastically.

  "Oh, you'll have them all right," he said. He paused for a few seconds. "You'll like Senhora Cordero," he added.

  "Senhora Cordero? What are you talking about?"

  Without responding, he turned and signaled for the check.

  "Who are you?" Jill asked, the words tumbling out of their own accord. "Where do you come from really?"

  He gave a brief laugh. "What you see is what you get."

  "Perhaps I don't like what I see."

  "You'll have to. You have no other choice." The waiter came over and informed him quietly that Wilhelm had taken care of the check. Jill stood up and headed for the cloakroom. As he helped her into her coat, Simon whispered. "There's more, my love."

  The cold air seemed like a punishment, even as they walked the short distance to the waiting limousine.

  "However you feel about me," Simon said, once they were settled in the back of the limousine, "however I may feel about you, that's between us. As far as anyone in Manaus is concerned, there was no codicil. We met, fell in love, married." He turned and looked deep into her eyes. Jill felt, for an instant, quite afraid.

  "As far as anyone is concerned, for that matter, you're madly in love with me, do you understand? And," he paused, but for only a moment, "I'm madly in love with you."

  Chapter Three

  As far as anyone is concerned. Those were the key words, Jill told herself. Love is reciprocal. He had informed her in a few words that he did not love her, that he could never love her. "As far as anyone is concerned, you're madly in love with me," pause. She could count the seconds of that pause. One, two, three, four. She had memorized the seconds just as she had memorized the words. "And I'm madly in love with you." The words, final and cold as ice, as clear and cold as the diamond upon her finger.

  She had gone to the airport with him, as would any fiancée. The trip had been made in silence, Jill at the right window, Simon at the left, so deep in thought, she did not dare to speak. At the airport, he had jumped out after kissing her briefly, for the sake of the chauffeur she was certain, the kiss leaving her shaky and speechless.

  The chauffeur dropped her off at the boarding house. "Will you be needing me again, miss?" he asked, tipping his hat.

  The question thrilled her. "No," she answered ruefully, amazed that she might have a choice. He tipped his hat once again and climbed back into the limousine.

  Jill watched until he had turned the corner and was lost to sight.

  After half a dozen enthusiastic pecks from Mrs. Hughes, and words of praise for Simon Todd, his looks, his masculinity, his courtesy, Jill was able to read over the two phone messages that had come for her. Derek, a day early, but then she remembered telling him why she had to take off from work. The other from Jay Wilhelm. She took care of Wilhelm's call first.

  "Simon phoned me from the airport," he explained at once. "He thought maybe you'd need some cash."

  She could scarcely conceal her pleasure at the thought of Simon's concern, but still, something told her to stay cool, and refuse, even with regret.

  "No, I'm fine, I have enough," she said.

  "Well, I'm here in case you need me. Now here's what I've done. I spoke with my wife, and she said any young bride would want to shop at Marshall Field and Saks at the very least. I'm taking the liberty of opening lines of credit for you at each of the stores in my name. Is that suitable?"

  Jill took in a deep breath. "Yes, of course."

  "If there's any place else you'd care to shop in, let me know."

  "I will. Thank you."

  "Also, I've booked the limousine for you for the rest of the week. Don't be afraid to use it." He gave her the number, which she wrote down. The question she asked herself, however, was, would she use it? Did one have to practice to be rich?

  "Now, about forwarding your furnishings," Wilhelm went on. "You determine what you want to take down with you, and what you'd like to ship separately."

  "I will," Jill told him, "but there's not too much, I'm afraid." Books, some jewelry that had belonged to her mother, an inexpensive stereo system, photographs of her parents, a photo album which more than anything, recorded that she had been a real laughing baby with real laughing parents, some trinkets that had belonged to her father, a stuffed doll that Derek had once given her.

  "Whatever it is, just let me know, and I'll take care of the rest."

  "Fine," she said obediently. An heiress. Paths were smoothed, red carpets rolled out.

  "I'll send your credit cards over first thing in the morning. You don't have much time."

  "It'll be enough," she said.

  "And again, congratulations. I've known Simon a long time. He's fine, fine all the way through. You can depend upon him. He's solid as the Rock of Gibraltar, that man."

  "Thank you for saying that," Jill responded.

  "Well, I think he's a lucky man, too. He has a beautiful young bride. He's resisted marrying all this time, so I'm impressed with you, my dear, quite impressed."

  When he hung up, Jill sat quietly at the hall phone for a long time. There was too much to be assimilated too quickly. She was being turned inside out with no breathing space to think about it. She looked down at Derek's message. She would have to tell him something—but what? "I'm getting married to a man I don't know. A man who has resisted marrying before but will now simply to secure a fortune. My fortune." Resisted marrying. Of course Jay Wilhelm had never been told of their curious bargain. No one would be told—ever. For a moment her heart seemed to stop. Mrs. Hughes. Surely she knew, but Jill relaxed. She had not said a word to Jill, and never would. The pact was among Simon Todd, Jill Carteret and the ghost of her uncle. As far as anyone
is concerned. The key words. She had entered into a bargain on those words. And she would not forget them. She would never forget them.

  She thought about the doll Derek had once given her. A birthday present. It was a tiny, stuffed doll, dressed in pink pajamas with a head that flopped engagingly. Suddenly it seemed important to her that she bring it to Manaus, and she couldn't explain why.

  She dialed Derek's office.

  "Everything okay?" he asked. "Did your visitor show up?"

  "Yes." She was annoyed at his curiosity. There was no way to do it, she decided at once. She had to break it off quickly. "I'm leaving for Brazil on Friday." It may have been cruel, but there was no other way. She was engaged now. Strange as the thought was to her, she was engaged.

  He was silent for a moment. She had, during the long months of their acquaintance, talked on and off about going to Manaus. "Friday? That's pretty sudden, isn't it?" he asked at last. "You mean I won't be seeing you again?"

  Now it was Jill's turn to be silent, to be more serious than she had ever been in her life. "I don't see how," she said. "I'm horribly busy."

  "But—" The idea seemed to leave him speechless.

  "Derek, I'll—I'll write to you." Simon wouldn't mind. He couldn't mind. Explanations would be better that way.

  "What has writing got to do with it?" he asked angrily. "Aren't you ever coming back?"

  She couldn't bring herself to tell him she was getting married. "Never." She used a tone so firm, it left absolutely no room for doubt.

  "Then don't bother to write." He slammed the phone down, yet instead of feeling upset, Jill breathed a sigh of relief. She went back to her room and took the doll in her hands.

  Simon Todd had resisted marrying before. How many women had wanted him, she wondered. How many had he wanted? Well, she thought, rubbing the soft doll body against her cheek, so had she resisted marrying. It would only have been a matter of time before Derek had asked her. Only a matter of time.

  And she would have said no. Irrevocably no. She shivered. She was escaping everything. Derek. Chicago. Everything. She was madly in love. Simon Todd had told her so. She had awakened that morning and fallen in love. She was madly in love—and so was he.

  There was no limit. Jill did not have to examine price tags. She did not have to go to the basement level of Field's to search out bargains. She did not, on the upper floors of the department store, have to make her way to the clearance racks for clothes that no one wanted until they were on sale. She had only now to stop and admire and it would be hers.

  It took her some time to realize that.

  On Wednesday, Jill had not called the limousine service. Instead she had taken the train, as always, to work. She had faced her superior at once, apologizing profusely for the sudden way in which she had to quit her job. Her superior was put out and angry, but Jill was adamant. They had made it clear on hiring her that the job was not permanent. It could have ended at any moment. They had owed her nothing, and equally, she owed them nothing. She left quickly, saying good-bye to no one, feeling the resentment for her freedom follow her out the door. Once in the street, however, Jill wanted to dance for joy. No more invoices—ever. The day was sparkling clear. She walked over to Marshall Field, and arrived tingling with cold.

  The night before, she had made up a list of things she would need. However, now, standing in the front entrance to the elegant old institution, she hesitated. Suddenly Jill Carteret found herself at a feast in which there was so much to eat—she could not take a bite.

  It was early afternoon before she used her first credit card. It did not surprise her that Simon Todd had been able to get it to her so quickly. She remembered Mrs. Hughes's words, "He doesn't look like the kind of man to be kept waiting." Now standing in the lingerie department of Saks, she felt the first curious thrill over the fate that was to befall her on Friday. It was the sight of a nightgown draped on a mannequin that did it. It was a pearl satin gown with a see-through lace top set in at a diagonal, and thin, spaghetti straps visible below a matching quilted jacket. She stared at it for a while, as a child stares longingly at a Christmas display of dolls in a store window. She did not dream for a minute that she could touch the gown and it would be hers.

  "Beautiful, isn't it?" A saleslady smiled distantly at Jill, as if they were sharers of an impossible dream.

  "I'd like to try it on," said Jill suddenly. The impossible dream was hers, wasn't it?

  The saleslady ran an appraising eye over Jill's old coat. "It's one hundred and fifty dollars," she said coldly.

  Jill put her hand to her hair, the diamond a beacon, a warning light. "I'll try it on." She would buy the nightgown now even if it fit like a rag.

  The saleslady nodded, clearly mesmerized by the ring. "Come this way."

  It was only when Jill was arrayed in the satin gown, its silken, fluid line revealing her small waist and shapely breasts, that the saleslady smiled her approval. "You have a very beautiful figure, my dear. You look simply marvelous."

  Jill stared at herself in the mirror. Was she too thin as Simon had said? Did she need plumping out? "My fiancée thinks I'm sort of skinny," she said.

  "Now don't you pay any attention," the saleslady told her. "He's just a tease." She stood back and smiled admiringly. "Good heavens, you're quite lovely and he knows it. When are you getting married?"

  "Friday."

  The saleslady helped her into the quilted jacket. "Well, we're going to have to splurge for the honeymoon, aren't we?"

  Honeymoon. Jill stared at herself in the mirror. She had never even thought about it. The move to Manaus had seemed the reward, the honeymoon. She saw the blush rise along her throat to darken her face, but the saleslady did not seem to notice it. Honeymoon. Jill did not dare to think about it.

  After her purchase of the nightgown, the use of her credit came easier. While she was still in the lingerie department, she bought some brief bras with bikini panties, scant nighties, even a pair of embroidered mules in pearl satin. The purchases piled up. She delivered them to the cloakroom to be picked up later, and called the limousine service for four o'clock. It was coming easier now, but Jill was too busy to be excited.

  She looked at and bought some velvety leather bags and shoes from Italy. From the luggage department she chose lightweight canvas bags with a designer initial, all at a price that would have paid her rent for a couple of months.

  It's not Jill Carteret doing this, she told herself. It's some other person. It's Mrs. Simon Todd, a lady of very extravagant habits, established over a lifetime of being rich, terribly rich.

  Jill had dreamed, but never imagined she would really be able to purchase a Burberry raincoat, yet there it was, beige, of smooth poplin with minute detailing, the essence of foreign intrigue.

  "I'll take it," she told the saleslady breathlessly, more delighted with that purchase than anything.

  When she met the chauffeur at 4 p.m., sliding into the back seat of the limousine, she found herself the object of the curious stares of passersby. She supposed she did look an odd sight in her old coat and knit cap.

  On Thursday, Jill repeated her trip downtown, putting together an attractive wardrobe of expensive, simple warm weather clothes.

  It was late Thursday afternoon when she realized that there were still two things she had neglected to buy. She was sitting at a lunch counter in Saks, eating a pastry, when she remembered.

  "Oh my goodness," she said out loud, "my wedding dress."

  The waitress, pouring her a cup of coffee, paused and looked up. "Excuse me?"

  "I forgot to buy a wedding dress."

  "Oh."

  "I mean I'm getting married tomorrow."

  The customer sitting next to her laughed. "Congratulations."

  Jill grinned. "Thanks. It's too complicated to explain."

  "Congratulations, anyway."

  There was something else she had to do, too. It had come to her in the middle of the night. A ring for Simon. She was going to
buy him a wedding ring. During the wedding ceremony she was going to slip it on his finger whether he wanted it or not. It was that simple. He would have to take it. That simple. She sighed. Jill Carteret had an odd feeling that nothing about Simon Todd would ever be simple.

  "I've no idea at all about size," said Jill. She stood at the Saks ring counter, a tray of wedding bands set before her. She thought of Simon's hands, strong, with long shapely fingers and how he had held her hand, palm side up and touched his lips to it. The salesman slipped the ring she pointed to on his finger. "This look the right size?"

  "I'm not sure." Jill shrugged. "He's sort of tall and rugged. His hands are, well, they match his size, I guess."

  The salesman smiled. He was small, his hands small. He reached for another ring. "Tall, rugged gentlemen have been known to buy this size." He showed it to her. "Can't you bring the young man in?"

  "He's out of town," she said quickly. "Why don't I err on the large side? We can always have it made smaller."

  The salesman dipped into his tray. "This one is about right, I'd say, if we err on the large side." It was the slim, gold, inconsequential circlet she wanted, one he could not object to wearing.

  "Would you like it inscribed?" the salesman asked.

  With what, Jill wondered. Initials entwined? Vows of eternal love in a few short words? "I don't think I have time," she said.

  "Ah, of course. You can always have that done later. You've a lifetime ahead of you."

  The purchase of Simon's wedding ring was simple, compared to the apprehension she felt when she stopped in front of the Bridal Department. She realized, seeing the lacy gowns displayed, that she had somehow all her life, expected a formal wedding, a gown, long and filmy, a garden hat dripping ribbons and flowers.

  A saleslady smiled at her from the arched entrance. "When's the happy event?"

  "Oh, I'm—I'm just looking," Jill stuttered. "We haven't set the date yet." How could she explain that it was only a day away?

  "Well, those are things we want to plan well ahead. Wouldn't you like some help?"

  Jill nodded shyly.