Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [48]
Stephen Henry looked at her in silence for a moment. “I was talking about David, my dear.”
Shit. But she was nothing if not a quick thinker. “Oh, well, he has all that golden-boy charm. Both your sons are chick magnets, S.H.” Not precisely true. David was charming, sweet, thoughtful and half his students had a crush on him, but he was nowhere near the draw that Caleb was. His very name sounded biblically sinful. Goddammit.
“A chick magnet?” Stephen Henry gave an exaggerated shudder which would have been seen in the third balcony if he were the Shakespearian actor he sometimes channeled. “English is such a glorious language—why must you descend to slang?”
“Because slang is a glorious part of a living language, Stephen Henry,” she shot back. “The truth is, women like your sons. For different reasons, but we’re agreed, they like them. That’s not a bad thing, you know. But you’re asking me about David. Are you trying to tell me David is having an affair?”
Odd, how the thought didn’t bother her. It would explain so much—his distance, his odd disappearances, the faint unease she felt that she kept trying to ignore. Even his lack of sexual interest. It might almost be a relief—she wouldn’t have to pretend anymore.
Impulsive as always, she’d jumped into this marriage, this life, without stopping to think it through. She just wanted to get Sophie away from San Francisco, and David seemed the perfect answer. She had a bad history of jumping into things without thinking, but usually the consequences weren’t quite that dire.
“Having an affair? Of course not!” he said, affronted. “And you would hardly be the one I’d be talking to if he was. David has a great deal of respect for you and for the institution of marriage. Apart from that, he wouldn’t think of hurting you. David’s far too sensitive to ever want to bring pain to anyone.”
Jesus, she was disappointed. She gave Stephen Henry the same kind of exaggerated sigh of relief that would play to the third balcony as well. “That’s good to know,” she said. “So what’s going on?”
“I’m worried about the two of you, what with Caleb’s advent on the scene. You were quite right in saying he was attractive to women. He has also tended to have a penchant for David’s women. They flock to him. I don’t want to see my son hurt.”
“Which son?”
“Either of them.” Stephen Henry looked past her, past the ominous foliage that crowded out the windows. “David lost his mother at an impressionable age, and his older brother disappeared a week later. There are times when I think none of us have healed from that hideous period in our lives. I had hopes when he brought you and Sophie back here, but now that Caleb’s home and planning to stay for a while I begin to worry again.”
“If you’re worried that Caleb is going to steal me away from my husband I think you can relax, S.H.,” she said. “It’s not like I’m some irresistible cover model or femme fatale. Men don’t tend to fall at my feet.”
“True enough,” he agreed with his lack of tact. “But that might not make a difference with Caleb. The appeal would be that you belong to David, not your desirable attributes or lack of them.”
And she wondered why she always left Stephen Henry’s presence feeling edgy and depressed. She gave him a wry smile. “Such a flatterer. In fact, I think you’re worried about nothing. David’s too busy with the crisis on campus to pay attention to whatever games Caleb might be playing, and I’m immune.” She looked at him, unblinking. Willing it true.
“If you say so.”
“In fact, he’s told me I’m not his type.”
“How interesting. And why did that come up?”
Crap. “I’m not an idiot, S.H. I could see there was a healthy case of sibling rivalry going on and I wanted to make my position clear.” That was only a slight fudging of the truth, and Stephen Henry appeared to accept it.
“I lost my wife too young,” he said, and for once there was real pain in his voice. “I don’t want any more losses. You be careful, my dear. And keep an eye on your daughter. I don’t know what’s going