At the dinner table Seth pointedly ignored Billie’s presence, directing his conversation, if any, completely to Agnes. Watching from beneath lowered lids, Billie was amazed to notice how fidgety her mother was.
Over coffee and dessert, Agnes looped her precious rope of pearls around her thin fingers and blurted, “I received a telegram from New York this afternoon, Seth. It was from your daughter. She’s arriving in Austin tomorrow morning and asked that the car be sent to the airport.”
Seth’s coffee cup clattered in its saucer and he threw his napkin onto the table. “Her mother’s gone and buried! What the hell good does she think coming to Sunbridge will do? She ran off and left her mother and now she comes crawling back.”
“Seth, please try to be reasonable,” Agnes said. “What could I do? You weren’t here. I couldn’t take it upon myself to cable New York and discourage your daughter from coming to Sunbridge. You couldn’t be reached. I didn’t know what to do. . . .”
“I’m not blaming you, Aggie. It’s that damn fool girl. She’s been a thorn in my side since the day she was born and I sure as hell don’t need her here now! I suppose she’s coming with that husband of hers.”
“There was no mention. But I don’t imagine a British officer could have gotten enough leave during wartime to come to the States.”
“Well, what the hell did she say, Aggie? Where’s that telegram?”
“It was read to me over the phone, Seth. It simply said she was in New York, had managed to secure a flight to Austin, and asked for the car to meet her at the airport.”
Seth stood up from the table, leaning heavily on his cane. “I can tell you this, Aggie. I never wanted to lay eyes on that girl again! She’s been willful her entire life, getting herself into one scrape after another! When she lived at home I teetered on the edge of embarrassment because I never knew what she’d do next. Whatever it was she did, I knew I wasn’t going to like it. And I don’t like this! Why the hell can’t she just stay away? I’m too old and too damn tired to put up with her pranks.”
“Seth, she’s a married woman with a young son—”
“That’s not her son! That boy belongs to some limey! She didn’t even have the sense to marry an American, for God’s sake. That boy’s not of my flesh and he’s not of hers, either.” With that closing statement, he left the dining room.
“I can’t believe this,” Billie gasped. “Amelia is his own daughter. And you, Mother, you defended yourself. Not Amelia! How could you be so cruel? Did you actually consider sending her a cable telling her to say away?”
Agnes’s eyes glittered and her mouth formed a bitter line. “I certainly did consider it and if I’d thought it wouldn’t backfire on me, I would have. What you don’t seem to understand, Billie, is that not all fathers love their children, at least not all of their children. Amelia has been a great disappointment to Seth and he can’t find it in his heart to forgive her. And Seth’s relationship with his daughter is none of our concern. Sometimes, Billie, you can be quite stupid, and you fail to remember where your bread is buttered.”
“And just what does that mean?”
“Simply said, dear, I am concerned about Amelia coming home because Seth is quite vulnerable now since Jessica’s death; a reconciliation between him and his daughter could have devastating results on your position here at Sunbridge, should anything happen to Moss. Never forget for one moment that blood is thicker than water. Even Maggie could quite easily be discarded if Amelia should ever have a son of her own. There’s a lot at stake, Billie, and I wish you’d stop being so naive.”
Billie sat back in her chair feeling as though the wind had been kicked out of her. “I never knew you to be so crafty and calculating, Mother. I never knew. . . .”
“What you never knew,” Agnes said coldly, “was how I scraped and scratched to give you a good life, to put you on a level where a daughter of mine belonged. Just how far did you think your father’s insurance policy and the little bit your grandmother left would go? And that house—you never knew there was a second mortgage on it, did you? And when you were about to go off to college, where did you think the tuition was coming from? From me, Billie, from me! I was prepared to go to work to pay for your education and you call me cruel? No, dear, you are the one who is cruel, taking all I ever had to give with never a thought for me. This is our one chance at security, Billie, and if you’re too stupid to see it, I’m not!”
The next afternoon Billie watched for the limousine. Seth and Agnes had left the house, and Billie was determined that Amelia would receive the welcome to Sunbridge she deserved as Jessica’s daughter.
The sound of tires on the cinder drive brought Billie once again to the window. Carlos brought the limo to a halt and sprinted around to the other side to open the back door. A tall, slim young woman with hair as dark as Moss’s stepped out. She was wearing a travel-rumpled suit in somber grays and black. Amelia stood for a long moment staring at the double front door with a strange expression on her face, as if she expected it to fly open and reveal a fire-breathing dragon. A dragon, Billie thought, that would be carrying a silver-handled cane.
Amelia then looked up to Jessica’s window. Her shoulders slumped beneath an invisible weight. It was only when a little boy hardly three years old came to her side that she smiled.
Billie opened the door and wrapped the trembling, fine-boned young woman in her arms, crooning words of sympathy, much as Jessica had embraced her that first morning at the Austin train station.
The child clung to Amelia’s skirt, blond hair ruffling over his worried brow, coffee-bean eyes gleaming. “Rand, darling, this is your aunt Billie.” Amelia dried her eyes and lifted the boy in her arms. “He’s so tired, poor darling. It was such an exhausting trip, but I couldn’t leave him in England with any peace of mind. Things are hell over there. It isn’t even safe in the country outside London.”
“Why don’t we take Rand up to the nursery and settle him in? A nice warm bath, something to eat, and a nap is all he needs. He’s a beautiful child, Amelia.”
“Yes, he is. The image of Geoffrey.”
Nurse Jenkins welcomed Amelia home. “Rand is my son, Miss Jenkins. There was an edge of defiance to Amelia’s voice, as though she were well prepared to face opposition.
Rand tugged his mother’s skirt until he was allowed to peek into the crib at little Maggie, who was sleeping peacefully and sucking her thumb.
“She’s a beautiful baby, Billie,” Amelia said. “With that dark hair there’s no doubt she’s a Coleman. She’s the picture of Moss, isn’t she?”
“That’s one of the reasons I love her so much.” Billie beamed. “Why don’t we see if Rand will stay with me so you can go freshen up? Carlos is taking your luggage up to your old room and I suppose Rand can sleep in the nursery with Maggie.”
Amelia’s shoulders squared. “Rand will sleep in my room. There’s been enough of separating the children from their parents in this house.”
“Whatever you say, Amelia. Of course Rand will stay in with you,” Billie said reassuringly. “After all, this is your home. You can do as you like.”
Amelia took Billie’s suggestion and left Rand with her while she went to freshen up. A tub was run while the little boy explored the nursery, investigating Maggie’s collection of stuffed animals and issuing a cry of delight when he spied a jack-in-the-box on the shelf. “Mine! Mine!”
“No, that’s not yours, young man,” Miss Jenkins corrected. “That belongs to Margaret!”
“He must have one like it. Get it down for him, won’t you? It reminds him of home.”
“Mrs. Coleman, it isn’t wise to spoil a child with everything he wants. If I’m to care for him, he must learn from the beginning what he may and may not have.”
“You’re not caring for him, Miss Jenkins. Rand will be staying with his mother during their visit. Now give him the jack-in-the-box and then get some fresh towels for his bath.”
“Staying with his mother! Is
n’t that just like her to come and upset the household. I was nurse to both your husband and his sister. There was a selfish streak in her then and it’s still there, I can see.”
“Or is it you never quite gave Amelia the attention and care you gave Moss, because he, and not she, was the apple of Seth Coleman’s eye? Now go get the towels.”
Miss Jenkins sputtered away while Billie played with Rand as she got him ready for his bath. “You certainly know what you want, don’t you?” Billie said, laughing as he reached for the toy, refusing to be separated from it.
“Listen,” he said as he turned the crank to work the music box. Slowly, he worked toward the end of the song. “All around the mulberry bush . . . the monkey thought it all in fun—now watch, Aunt Billie,” he said, holding up the box. “Pop goes the weasel!” Billie pretended to be surprised and laughed along with the child. He was a delight and his precise British accent, so like Amelia‘s—though she may have been born in Texas—pleased her. When Miss Jenkins returned with’the towels, he splashed water at her and made a funny face. Amelia certainly had her hands full with young Master Nelson, but already he was like a ray of sunshine in the house.
An hour later little Rand Nelson had been fed and nestled down in Amelia’s room for a nap. Billie sat with him until he closed his eyes and then she tiptoed quietly out of the room. She’d expected Amelia to come back and tend to her son. Where was she?
Billie found her sister-in-law sitting in Jessica’s darkened bedroom. The draperies were drawn but a slim shaft of light slipped between their folds. “Amelia? What are you doing sitting in the dark? Rand is sound asleep.”
“He’s a wonder, isn’t he, Billie? So like his father. Mother would have loved him—” Her voice broke off in a choked sob and she sank down on the edge of Jessica’s bed.
“Oh, Amelia, I’m so sorry,” Billie said, going to offer comfort. But Amelia’s hands went up in immediate defense.
“No, no, don’t touch me. I couldn’t bear it. I’m afraid I’ll fall apart at the first gesture of sympathy. I’m really a crybaby, you know.”
“Anyone would cry. You’ve just lost your mother, your husband is still in England fighting a war. . . . You’ve got every right to cry,” Billie said softly.
“Geoffrey was shot down over France last month,” Amelia said through her sobs. “They saw his plane go down. It burst into flames. . . . He didn’t have a chance.”
Amelia’s announcement was like a physical blow to Billie. She, too, was married to a pilot; she, too, had a husband fighting a war.
The women wept together, then Amelia stood up and moved across the room, taking Billie’s now cold hand. “Don’t worry about Moss. He’s got the luck of the Colemans going for him. He’ll come back to you safe and sound. You wait and see.”
“You’re a Coleman and you haven’t been that lucky.” Billie had thought about death, the danger of flying, the hell of fighting a war, but it had always seemed one step removed from her and Moss.
“I’m not all Coleman, not the way Moss is. Come downstairs with me. I think we both need a drink. At least I do. The hell with taking a bath. I’ll do that later. Right now, I need to talk. What do you say?”
“Well have the study to ourselves; your father is out somewhere. He doesn’t spend much time at home since your mother died. I think it’s his way of dealing with his grief.”
“You think so, do you?” Amelia led the way downstairs. “I would say you’re being quite generous, Billie. I’m sure the old man won’t mind if I tipple a little of his bourbon. At least not any more than he minds anything else I do.” She forced a smile.
Amelia and Billie sat in the dim cool of Seth’s study for almost three hours, talking and sipping highballs. Two young women with common loves, Jessica and Moss, became friends.
“I loved him so much, my Geoff,” Amelia was saying. “He was everything to me . . . friend, lover, husband. In many ways he made up for my being separated from Moss. And in more ways than I care to admit, he gave me the love and attention I never had from my father. Now he’s gone and there’s only Rand and me. I think the day I fully realized how much Geoff loved me was when he asked if I would adopt his son. That boy meant the world to him.”
“Did Geoff have family left in England?”
“Oh, yes, quite a tightly knit family, in fact. So naturally, I’m the outsider now, except for Rand. Geoff was the oldest son, and he inherited the title and land, a very healthy estate, even by Texas standards. Now it all belongs to Rand.” She laughed bitterly. “Can you imagine, that little boy up there is officially known as Lord Randolph Jamison Nelson, Earl of Wickham. Rand’s net worth would make even my father squint. Of course, and thankfully, the estate is entirely in the hands of the family solicitors. I unabashedly admit I’ve no head for figures. Further proof I’m not a true Coleman.”
“Then you won’t be able to stay on in America, will you? Not if Rand has a heritage and tradition to return to.”
“Thank God, no. We’ll return to England in a few weeks, if the war permits. It was hell getting over here in the first place. Lord only knows how or when we’ll get back, but get there we will.” Her blue eyes, so like Moss’s, flashed with confidence.
“When I heard you were coming back to Sunbridge I thought you wanted to mourn for a while, where memories of your mother are the strongest.”
“You are only partly right,” Amelia said quietly before she drained her glass. “Actually, I came back to get an abortion.”
Billie was uncertain that she’d heard correctly. “An . . . an abortion? I . . . I don’t understand. Why, when you’ve just told me how much you loved Geoffrey? How could you think of destroying his child?”
“It’s the only way. I have Rand to consider. Billie, the responsibility of raising Rand on my own is overwhelming. Rand is Geoff’s child, the child he entrusted to me, and if I’m to keep him, I’ll have to fight tooth and nail. Geoff’s family is taking legal action for custody of Rand. I can’t allow that to happen. Rand is my son, not legally yet, but where money and influence play a part, I won’t stand a chance. That’s a little lesson I learned at my father’s knee. Those who have, get. Those who don’t, get the shaft.
“I can’t be strong and take on the vultures if I’m burdened with a pregnancy and another child. I’d be too vulnerable, too weak. Geoff loved me, he entrusted Rand to me, and I won’t betray that trust.”
She lifted her gaze and looked directly at Billie. “You’re not saying anything, Billie; I’ve shocked you, haven’t I? Are you all right? You look a little pale.”
“No, no, I’m fine—at least I think I am. Amelia,” she blurted, “I’m pregnant, too, and the doctor wants me to have a clinical abortion.” Quickly, Billie told of her last visit to Adam Ward.
“You haven’t said anything to Pap, have you? You already know by now that the sun rises and sets on Moss as far as he’s concerned. I hate to say it, Billie, but my father would gladly risk your health and life if it meant he would have a grandson. It’s all he’s talked about since Moss was old enough to marry.”
“I know. Even little Maggie doesn’t count for anything.”
“How well I know. And I suppose he had quite a lot to say about my coming home with Rand.” Billie’s embarrassed flush told Amelia all she needed to know. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“No. I suppose I’m feeling guilty because I really don’t want to go through another pregnancy—not now, anyway. Also, as the doctor said, I could lose this baby without doing anything at all. It’s risky.” Billie’s anguish was evident. “If anything should ever happen to Moss and I had gone through with the abortion, I’d never forgive myself. I don’t know what to do.”
This time Amelia comforted Billie. She wrapped her arms around her. “You’ll do what you have to do, Billie. You’ll think it out and come to a decision and it’ll be your decision. I’ll be here for you, but I promise I won’t try to sway you one way or the other.”
Seth’s angry voice suddenly filled the room. “You gals having a sorority meeting in my study? And helping yourselves to my best bourbon, I see. You’ve got a whole house to yourselves—this room is off limits!”
“Hello, Pap, it’s nice to know you’re glad to see me. Still your lovable old self, I see. It’s delightful to be welcomed back to home and hearth.”
“Don’t you go getting snotty with me, daughter. You don’t have your mother around to cover for you anymore,” he growled. “Pour me one of those. Just how long do you intend to stay?”
“As long as I have to, Pap;” Amelia said, lifting the bourbon bottle. “Three fingers or four?”
“Three, for starters. Christ, you look like something the cat dragged in. Don’t tell me that’s the latest style in London.”
“Oh, you mean my clothes. No, they’re not the latest style, but then widow’s weeds were made for utility, not fashion.”
Seth took a drink, walked around to the chair behind his desk, and sat down heavily. “That fool pilot you married bought it, did he? How’s he listed? Killed in action or only missing?”
“Killed. His wingman saw him go down. It was over France.”
“I hope he left you well off. The day you married that limey my responsibility to you was over. Jess left you a tidy sum. If you ever get your hands on it, that is.”
“I didn’t come home for what Mam left me and you know it, Pap. Any lawyer can make sure I get what’s coming to me.”
“Only God himself can see you get what’s coming to you, Amelia. I can’t say I’m glad you’ve come back, because I’m not and I won’t be a hypocrite. I can feel my stomach going sour already. What’d you do with that stepson of yours? Left him where he belongs, I hope.”
“Rand is upstairs in my room taking a nap. Which reminds me, I should go up and look in on him.
“Poor little tyke, he’s really done in,” she said to Billie, who was watching this confrontation with amazement.
Texas Rich Page 30
