needed all three. She had been the calm mothering influence he had never found at home. She had also been tough and uncompromising when her mind settled on something. If Judith McNaughton wanted it, she invariably got it. Apparently she wanted to see him married.
“Mr. Jones, I have to tell you that this doesn’t fit in with my plans at all. Not at all.”
He fingered his mustache and considered the older man. There was nothing but courtesy and consideration in that lined face and Jefferson decided to explain his blueprint for the future.
“I have invested a substantial amount of money and a large of amount of time researching the possibilities of obtaining a surrogate mother and defining exactly what her rights in such an arrangement would be.”
“You want a child badly, Mr. Haddon.”
Jefferson nodded.
“I want a son. I’ve interviewed couples who have gone through the process and inspected the children produced from such a union. I’m satisfied that they seem normal healthy children with a parent who truly wants them.”
Mr. Jones coughed discreetly behind his hand, hiding his thoughts behind a large white handkerchief.
“And after this research you feel you have an idea of what you want?”
“I know exactly what I want in the mother of my son, Mr. Jones.” He enumerated the qualities for the lawyer. “Calm, rational, levelheaded, to name a few traits. Unemotional. A woman who won’t expect to be involved in my life other than in matters to do with my child in the first few months of his life.”
There was a gleam in the older man’s eyes that was extremely disconcerting.
“This hypothetical woman, then. You believe she will just calmly hand over her child and disappear? That the two of you would live happily ever after?”
Jefferson nodded.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want from the contract. A calm, rational agreement between two adults.” He barely heard the mumbled aside.
“Seems to me a woman would have to be very calm to agree to such a thing. Dead, in fact.” Mr. Jones shook his head slowly.
“I would make it worth her while,” Jefferson rushed in and then stopped, appalled at how the words sounded when you said them out loud.
His face flushed a deep red at the intensity of Jones’s scrutiny. Jefferson had always known he came from a family of wealth and prestige; tact and diplomacy were the rule. Never once had he been tempted to misuse his assets. But suddenly he wished he could spend a portion of his father’s overblown bank account to buy back those words, unsay them.
Lawyer Jones evidently felt the same way for he frowned, his wise blue eyes accusing in their scrutiny.
“But what about this woman? How long will you need her? What happens to her once the first few months of the baby’s life have passed and you no longer need her? Do you expect she will have no feelings for the child.that she’ll just disappear with cash in hand?”
When stated in those terms, Jefferson’s plan sounded arrogant; even slightly odious.
The older man snorted in disbelief.
“And.what if the child is a girl?”
Jefferson hadn’t thought about that.
“And what do you tell the child about his mother in ten or fifteen years?” the old man asked in a no-nonsense voice.
It was too much information overload, especially on a day when everything seemed out of sync.
“I don’t know. But I’m confident that I can handle whatever needs to be done.” Even now, Jefferson’s mind whirled with plans.
He had chosen a name for the boy. Breaking with eons of family tradition, Jefferson had decided his son would be named Robert, Bobby for short. It was all planned out, everything was in place. His lawyers had the financial details organized into a formal agreement.
“Mr. Jones, I merely require the right woman for my purpose. It will mean that my business plans for expansion will have to be shelved for the moment, but I feel it’s worth it.” Jefferson hoped the man understood that he would not be swayed by these trivial problems.
Willard T. Jones sat polishing his round spectacles, staring at them for a long solemn moment. When he finally glanced up, Jefferson caught a sparkle of amusement in the old man’s eyes.
“Well, Mr. Haddon. I’m sure you’ve thought about this long and hard. If I may, I’d like to offer a suggestion.”
Jefferson nodded.
“My advice is this. Put everything on hold. The issue of Miss McNaughton’s estate has yet to be settled and if you recall-” he smiled dryly “-your marital status may well change.”
“Oh, I don’t.”
“In six months’ time, the entire picture will look very different. I suggest you take the time necessary to think everything through. You might start with the estate.” Jones tipped back in his chair and gazed at the ceiling while speaking. “Judith Evelyn McNaughton was a cagey, stubborn old woman who went to the grave with a last-ditch effort to manipulate you into marriage. She specially chose Cassie Newton.”
Privately, Jefferson thought Judith’s latest bid for control of his future made all her other matchmaking attempts picayune by comparison.
“She knew how hard you’ve worked to make a success of your company. Just last month she was telling me of your need to expand your business. And of your need for more cash.”
Jefferson was startled by the words.
“I didn’t realize she had kept such close track of me while I’ve been out of the country,” he murmured, staring at his hands.
“She wanted you to have the means to expand.”
Jefferson grinned. “But only if I got it on her terms. Good old Judith.”
“The way I see it,” the older man continued, “she gave you two months’ grace. Think long and hard before you decide, my boy. Make very sure you won’t regret giving up the very things Judith wanted you to have.”
As he walked down the street, Jefferson Haddon shook his head at the ridiculous situation he found himself in. Memories, sharp and clear, tumbled around in his mind. He could still visualize Judith’s thin, severe face with that prim mouth pressed into a firm line as she bawled him out.
“One must always consider the other person, Jefferson. For in one way or another, whatever you do will affect him.”
That had been the time Freddie Hancock has socked Jefferson in the nose for saying Freddie’s mother was fat. Well, Jefferson grinned fondly, it was true. All the Hancocks had been fat. But Mrs. Hancock was enormous and when her arms wrapped around him in a hug, his eightyear-old body had been suffocated against her overflowing abundance.
He’d also been embarrassed. Aunt Judith had remonstrated with him on the social niceties before patting his hand
