From the Heart

again about the custody suit. My mother and father discussed it occasionally. She’s acquainted with your aunt. There was a good deal of publicity.”
    “Of course.” Kasey lifted a shoulder. “Wealthy political family squabbles with backwoods country doctor over child. What makes better press?”Jordan heard the hint of bitterness slip into the careless words. “Tell me about it, Kasey.”
    “What’s there to tell?” She would have risen then, but his arm kept her beside him. His hold was gentle but firm. “Custody suits are ugly, and hideous for the child caught in the middle.”
    “Both your parents were lawyers,” Jordan put in. “Surely they had clearly defined wills giving you a legal guardian.”
    “Of course they did. My grandfather.” Kasey shook her head. How was he able to pull so much out of her with only a few words? She never discussed this part of her life with anyone. “Wills can be contested, particularly if you have a great deal of money and a great deal of power. She wanted me, not for me, but because my name was Wyatt. I understood that even when I was eight years old. It wasn’t difficult; she had never approved of my mother. My parents met while they were in law school. It was one of those instant attractions. They were married within two weeks. My aunt never forgave him for marrying an unknown law student who was only at Georgetown University because of a scholarship.”
    “You said you lived between your grandfather and aunt the first year. What did you mean?”
    “Jordan, this was all very long ago—”
    “Kasey.” He interrupted her, turning her face to his. “Talk to me.”
    She settled back in his shoulder again and shut her eyes. The tension was back in her muscles. “When my aunt filed suit, things began to get ugly. There were reporters. They came to school, to my grandfather’s house. My aunt hired a firm of detectives to prove he wasn’t caring for me properly. In any case, I was having a difficult time dealing with it. My grandfather thought it might be easier for me if I lived with my aunt for a while. It would take some of the pressure off, and I might find that I wanted to live with her. At the time, I hated him for sending me away. I thought he didn’t want me. I didn’t stop to think that it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. I was all he had left of my mother.”
    Jordan watched her run her thumb over the gold band she wore. “My aunt had a beautiful row house in Georgetown.Thirty-fifth Street. It had high ceilings and fireplaces in every room. Fabulous antiques and Sevrès china. She had a collection of porcelain dolls and a black butler she called Lawrence.” Kasey started to rise again. She needed to move.
    “No.” Jordan kept her against him. “Sit.” He knew that if she stood she’d find a way to avoid telling him any more. “What happened?”
    “She bought me organdy dresses and Mary Janes and paraded me around. I was enrolled in a private school and given piano lessons. It was the most miserable time in my life. I hadn’t gotten over my parents’ death yet, and my aunt was far from maternal. She wanted a symbol—a nice, quiet child she could dress up and show to her friends. My uncle was away most of the time. He was nice enough, I suppose, but self-absorbed. Or perhaps that’s not fair; he had a great deal of responsibility. Neither of them could give me what I needed, and I couldn’t give them what they were looking for. I asked obnoxious questions.”
    He laughed a little and kissed her temple. “I’ll bet you did.”
    “She wanted to mold me, and I refused to be molded. It’s really that simple. I was surrounded by beautiful things I wasn’t supposed to touch. Fascinating people came to the house whom I wasn’t supposed to speak to, except to answer, ‘Yes, sir,’ or, ‘No, ma’am,’ when I was addressed. It was like being caged.”
    “Your aunt dropped the suit.”
    “It took her three months to realize she couldn’t live with me. She told me if there was any Wyatt in me it was well-hidden, and sent me back to my grandfather. It was like being able to breathe again.”
    Jordan frowned out over the lawn. From where they sat, he could just see the top story of the house. Is she feeling caged here? He remembered the way she had walked from window to window in the drawing room. He wanted a little time to digest the things he had just learned about her. “You’re very close to your grandfather,” he