hat my rational, intelligent brother is babbling like an idiot. You can’t really mean that you and Ms. Haley are getting married. It’s preposterous!”
“I agree!” he said cheerfully. “But strange as it may seem, it’s true.”
The agitation on Hazel’s face didn’t reveal a fraction of the fury raging within her. She had known that girl meant trouble. Beauty and brains were incompatible attributes. What her brother considered intelligence, Hazel recognized as cunning. Kathleen had schemed her way into the corporation, the thing that Hazel held most dear. Now she was invading her family and home, too. She had craftily besotted Seth, who, God knew, would welcome the attention of any woman.
Their mother had died when Hazel was twenty-four. Seth, a late-in-life baby, had been only eleven. Hazel had taken care of and protected him ever since. It wasn’t an obligation she had asked for or particularly enjoyed, but damned if she would be usurped.
Belying the tumult inside her, she smiled and said, “Why don’t you tell me about it, Seth, dear.”
Eagerly, Seth launched into an account of Kathleen’s merits. The more Hazel listened, the more she cursed her brother for the fool she had always thought him to be. His acts of generosity irritated her. His patience, his acceptance of his disability, all grated on her. Why didn’t he feel anger, bitterness? He was weak. Just like their father, for whom she had always harbored the deepest disdain.
When Seth finally paused long enough to take a sip of scotch, she put her lips to her sherry glass, though she really didn’t drink any. She despised the stuff. Her solace came from the secret bottle of vodka stashed in a drawer in her bedroom.
She smiled sweetly, the expression on her face barely more than a grimace. “I know how talented and beautiful Ms. Haley is, Seth.” The words stuck to her throat like bad-tasting medicine. “But what do we know about her?”
“She was raised in an orphanage after the death of her parents.” He went on to capsulize Kathleen’s life for his sister, much as Kathleen had done for him the afternoon he had proposed.
The more he talked about Kathleen, the brighter his eyes shone and the more the burning, sinking feeling in her stomach pained Hazel. “Seth, darling,” she said gently, “forgive my indelicacy, but you can’t… I mean… it won’t be a traditional marriage.” She managed to force a blush and look awkwardly down at her hands, all the time thinking that her brother couldn’t satisfy that slut in a million years. She had seen the way Kathleen used those beguiling eyes and that small, lithe body to full advantage, torturing her stupid brother into thinking that he was a man again.
“I know, Hazel,” Seth said sadly. “However, providence has compensated for that. You see, even now, Kathleen is carrying the Kirchoff heir. She’s expecting a baby in the spring.”
The words had a devastating effect on Hazel’s false composure. “What!” she gasped. Her face grew hideous, all the ugliness in her soul suddenly becoming evident in that moment when the facade was down. The whore was pregnant! That didn’t surprise Hazel. What did surprise her was the bitch’s audacity to try to dump her bastard on the Kirchoffs. “You’re going to marry a whore pregnant with someone else’s bastard? You intend to name that scum as your heir?”
Seth was momentarily shocked by Hazel’s coarse tirade. Since her one love affair had gone awry many years ago, Seth knew his sister avoided men except on a professional basis. He placed his highball glass on the parqueted top of the coffee table and wheeled his chair closer to her. He knew she must be extremely upset to react so violently. Perhaps he should have broached the subject more gently, instead of letting his happiness run rampant and without discretion.
“Hazel,” he said kindly, “I know that this comes as a surprise to you, and you’re naturally suspicious of Kathleen’s motives, but I must ask you not to speak about her in those terms. I love her very much.”
Hazel stared at him in disbelief, wondering if he had any inkling as to how imbecilic he sounded.
“The man… the father of her child hurt her deeply. She loved him. Kathleen couldn’t have given herself to him had she not.”
That’s what you think, Hazel sneered silently. That whore would open up her long, slender legs for any man. And you, my stupid brother, are sadly lacking in that department.
“Please give her a chance, Hazel. I know you’ll come to love her as I do. And the child. It will be your niece or nephew, after all.” He smiled.
Hazel forced her face to remain inscrutable. What choice did she have? If she spit out the harsh words that were churning inside her, clamoring for release, Seth might possibly turn on her. He was obviously besotted with the woman.
As it was, she still held the reins of control over him. The best guarantee she had of keeping them was to accept this tramp into her house and, in Seth’s view, play the simpering spinster sister-in-law. It wouldn’t be difficult. It wasn’t far from the role she had been playing for years—the doting sister—when all the while, the very sight of Seth repulsed her. She must protect her first love, the store. Hazel forced herself to ask calmly, “What about her job at the store?”
“She’ll retain it. I’ve insisted. But I want her to hire an assistant to be in training to take over when the baby arrives.”
That wasn’t the best option to Hazel’s mind, but she could work around it. Even to herself, her smile felt false as she said, “Forgive me, Seth, for what I said. I was too stunned to think rationally.” She raised her hand to his dark hair and brushed back a few vagrant strands. “I guess I’m having a typical jealous reaction. You’ve been more like a son than a brother. Now I’m losing you to another woman.”
He caught her hand and pressed it to his cheek. “You’re not losing me. We’re going to be a family. All of us together.”
“Yes,” she murmured as he wheeled away to ask George to bring a magnum of champagne. Of one thing Hazel was certain, if she had to murder the woman, her bastard and Seth himself, that slut wouldn’t inherit one red cent of the money that rightfully belonged to Hazel Kirchoff.
* * *
“I just can’t believe it, B. J.” Edna said. “She’s married?”
“That’s what the letter says, but I’m damned if I can believe it either.” He raked his hand through his grizzled gray hair. “Who is the guy again?”
“She says his name is Seth Kirchoff and that he owns the department store she’s working for. In San Francisco, of all places. They were married last Sunday. She says she’s moving into his house this weekend.”
“You figure he’s rich?”
Edna scanned the paper she was holding in her hand. “Well, if this stationery with her new initials embossed on it is any indication, I’d say yes,” Edna commented caustically. As she read the letter again, she asked, “B. J., aren’t you surprised?”