of protection could help shield her from an unwanted surge of suppressed feelings.
Harold would do anything to keep Liz from remaining alone and without love, and he knew that at some point, her relentless rebellious behavior would run its course. She hadn’t made any progress on her own. She took an occasional lover, but in his opinion, that didn’t count since she was still alone. If neither he nor John could reach her, then he needed to find someone else who could succeed in breaking through the protective wall Liz hid behind.
Liz had been building up that barrier every year since Isabelle’s death, and even more so recently. Liz needed a man who would take care of her, Harold thought. One who would love her and win her trust. Love and trust: the very things that, for some reason, she would no longer accept from her family, and which she withheld from them. Maybe if Liz finally found happiness in her own life, she would also let herself get closer to her family. At least, that’s what Harold hoped.
With a satisfied smile Harold watched the way Gray kept Liz in his sight, unfazed by her obvious rejection of him. Even when he was engrossed in a conversation with Annie, his eyes followed Liz or searched for her. She had plainly piqued his interest. And, without having anticipated such a solution, Harold suddenly felt absolutely certain that Gray was the right man for his daughter.
***
John gave his sister a reproachful look. “Why can’t you ever behave yourself?” But she only gave him her infamous mocking smile, turned her back to him, and leaned her arms on the wide, stone railing that encircled the terrace as she looked out into the rambling garden.
The light, provided by the intermittently placed lanterns, made only the outline of the area discernible. Long dark shadows crept across the grass and the garden in which she had once spent countless hours playing with her brother. What trouble they had gotten into here!
Liz had come out on the terrace looking for peace and quiet, but since John was there, that wasn’t going to happen now.
“Why don’t you just go back in and take care of Annie? What I do or don’t do isn’t anyone’s business. Leave me in peace!”
“Liz, Dad only wants what’s best for you.” John spoke in the beseeching manner of an older brother trying to help his younger sister. “He’s worried about you and wants to make sure you’re taken care of.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“With those temp jobs of yours?” John’s expression betrayed the displeasure he felt over the way she made her living. Pursuing any odd job was, in his opinion, undignified, completely inappropriate, and—given Liz’s level of education—illogical. “Sometimes you work, sometimes you don’t. For days, even weeks, you disappear without anyone knowing where you are and what you’re doing. That’s no life! You graduated from a top college—something you should be proud of—and you speak several languages fluently. Why don’t you live up to your potential?”
“Maybe because I don’t want to. Did you ever consider that possibility? I only went to college because Dad wanted me to. He made me feel guilty and talked me into it by saying that Mom would be disappointed if I didn’t go, because she had expected so much from me.”
“I’m sure you misunderstood him. He would never force us to do anything,” John said.
“Maybe he wouldn’t force you, because you’re the beloved and obedient son.” She gave a soft laugh. “At least you are nowadays. I, on the other hand, don’t inspire love, and I’m not agreeable. I never was and never will be. But you figured that out long ago.”
“If you would just try to act better, you would be a lot easier to take.”
She gave another soft laugh and nodded. “I get your point. But maybe I don’t want to be tolerated. I like how I am.”
“Well, it’s out of my control,” John said. “But it would be nice if you didn’t
Barbara Corcoran, Bruce Littlefield