Games (Timeless Series)

by Loyd, Sandy

  All four sat around the table, catching up on each other’s lives, when Marguerite said, “Papa, do you remember a man by the name of Simon Harrington?”

  “Simon Harrington?” Giselle gave her sister a warning look while her father stroked his jaw. “Yes, I remember him well. Paris. He’s a good man.” He glanced up, his brows rising. “What made you ask about him? I wouldn’t expect to see Simon around these parts. Did you meet him somewhere? Is he in town?”

  Ignoring Giselle’s dirty look, Marguerite bestowed a pretty smile. “Non, I have not met him, but Giselle has.”

  “Really? I wonder if he’s still in the game.” When he turned to look at Giselle, his eyebrows lifted higher. After eyeing her, he grunted. “Where did you meet him? Surely not on the farm. Although I know he’s passed through Louisville now and again. It would be nice to see him on one of his trips.”

  Her reluctance would raise more questions, so Giselle smiled and said, “We met at a ball in Louisville several months back. I danced and talked with him. He remembered you, Papa.”

  “Thinking of him now brings back memories of my life before your mother and I met.” He put his hand over his wife’s and squeezed. “But the minute I first laid eyes on your mother, I knew my days of intrigue were over. So you danced with him, huh?”

  Avoiding his speculative gaze, she looked down at her cup, studying the flowers intently, and shrugged. “Oui, he seemed nice enough.”

  “Nice enough doesn’t describe Simon,” Marcus said, chortling. “My God, what I would give to have been a fly on the wall and see the two of you deal together. I’ll bet sparks flew.”

  Annoyed by his remark, she glanced up and caught his amused eyes. “Papa, you warned me away from him. Do you not remember?”

  “Yes, and I recall that was right before we left Paris.”

  “Well, it seems to me nothing has changed since then. He is still unsuitable. Since that is the case, I cannot see why it amuses you so to imagine us dealing with each other now.”

  Her father’s bark of laughter filled the air. “A lot has changed since then. Back then, he was much too experienced for a green girl like you. Not that I had to worry about him. He’s got some principles. It was you I worried about. But I don’t know why. You’re much more deadly to the opposite sex, and I pity the men who get caught up in your web.”

  “Papa! What an outrageous thing to say.”

  “Outrageous, maybe. But true nonetheless. I know my own daughter, for heaven’s sake. You do tend to be a bit fickle.”

  Stunned into silence, Giselle could only stare at him. Finally, in a wounded voice, she said, “I am not fickle. I admit I like to flirt and I adore the attention my beaux give me. Why is it a man can do so and no one calls him fickle? I am just enjoying myself while waiting for the right one to come along. How is that so wrong?”

  “It’s not wrong.” Sighing, he placed his hand over hers. “It’s part of you and I love every flirtatious bone in your body. But I do feel you see it as a game. I know you don’t mean to stomp on the feelings of those men who become enamored of you. After all, they are grown men who should know better than to be led around by the nose.”

  “Papa!” Giselle laughed at the mental picture her father’s statement brought forth. “I do not lead them around by the nose. You make them sound like fools.” She turned to her mother for help. “Mama, tell him I do not do that.”

  Sophie shrugged. “Well, not so much the nose, but the ears? Maybe?” she said, with a little chuckle. “I have often wondered how you accomplish such a feat with a few words and a look.” When Giselle rolled her eyes, her mother laughed again and came out of her chair to give Giselle a hug. “It is who you are. And I, for one, would have you no other way.”

  “Aye, your mother has a point there. I guess if I were to warn anyone now, I would warn Simon Harrington.”

  “Oh, hush, Marcus. You act as if the men have no will in the matter,” Sophie said as she sat back down.

  “You’re right, Sophie. I probably don’t have to warn him.” Chuckling, he turned to Giselle. “I certainly don’t think you’d have him by the nose, like all the others.”

  “You two are dreadful. I did not come all this way to see my family and expect to be insulted.”

  “I’m not insulting you,” Marcus teased, smiling. “I’m merely pointing out that you two are a perfect pair. And in a match between the two of you, I’m not sure who’d come out the winner.”

  “You are supposed to be on my side. I am your daughter, for heaven’s sake.”

  “Yes, you are, and a beautiful one at that. So, tell me about meeting Simon. How is he? I gather he’s still doing special jobs?”

  Giselle’s annoyance vanished and she smiled. Papa was such a tease at times. Looking from him to her mother and noticing his hand covering her mother’s, she felt such warmth spread through her. It seemed such a loving gesture. The sense of love, compassion, and caring was all around her. Sighing, she realized right then she wanted what they had.

  “He was at a ball I attended in Louisville with Colin and Libby,” she said, answering his question. “Considering the dance we shared, he is doing quite well. I assumed he was working on a case because he said he was not staying long. I have not seen him since, nor have I expected to, which sums up our time together.”

  “You make it sound as if he is no different from all the other men you know,” Marguerite said, entering the conversation after remaining mute for most of it. “You know that is not true.”

  “Marguerite, you keep quiet,” Giselle hissed with warning in her voice. “You know nothing about it.”

  “I know you think he is an odious man.” Marguerite ignored her sister’s warning and turned to her parents. She lifted her chin, and added with a smug expression, “Giselle told me he annoyed her and she calls him Simon.”

  Marcus chuckled. “Now your description sounds more like the man I know.”

  “Marguerite thinks she knows all.” After sticking her tongue out at her sister, Giselle glanced at her father and worked to keep the irritation out of her voice. “So what if I find Simon annoying. It does not matter, I’ll never see him again.”

  “So, it is Simon, is it?”

  “Oh, Papa!” She blew at her the strands of hair covering her eyes in frustration. “That is not the point. The point is I am glad I will never have to set eyes on the man again.”

  “What’s this? You mean the man didn’t fall under your spell?” he teased, his eyes dancing with glee.

  Frustrated beyond means, she looked to her mother for help. “Mama, will you tell him he is not being very fatherly?” She got up from the table in a huff. “If you need me, I will be unpacking in my room,” she stated grumpily, stomping from the room.

  ~~

  Sophie attempted to cover her smile. “Marcus, you should not tease so much.” When Giselle was out of earshot, she whispered, “Did you notice how much emotion she showed when she spoke about how annoying Simon is?”

  Marcus met his wife’s gaze and grinned. “Yes, she did seem put out with him, didn’t she? I wonder what he did, or more likely, didn’t do to cause that.”

  “Whatever it was, I do not think any man has ever caused her to show such emotion. There may be hope for her after all.”

  “Of course there is, ma petite. However, I was starting to have my doubts and began wondering if we’d made a mistake coming back to the States when we did. It was selfish of me, I know, to leave right before she had a chance to find someone suitable in Paris.”

  “Hush, Marcus. We did what we felt was best for our family. You cannot regret that.”

  “No, I have no regrets. Being so far away from our baby would break our hearts. Maybe if Marguerite’s husband had lived, I’d feel differently. Perhaps we should have moved to Louisville when we came back—at least until she found someone.”

  “How were we to know she would be so picky? She has had plenty of opportunity to meet someone suitable, especially given
our trips to Chicago. I do not think living in Louisville would make much difference.”

  He sighed and took a drink. “You’re right, of course. It’s all water under the bridge at this point. What’s done is done. Giselle will find a husband in good time. All she needs to do is come across someone who not only plays her same game, but plays to win. Sooner or later, she’ll get caught in a web of her own making. When that happens, I just hope I’m not too old to enjoy my grandchildren or that I’m not deep in my grave.”

  ~~

  Later, after a nice lunch with her family, Giselle wandered outside and noticed her father down by the river target shooting. Pleased beyond measure because the two had spent many hours together while he taught her to shoot, she ran out to meet him.

  As she neared, he fired off his last round.

  “I see you still have a good eye, Papa. The hole in the target is not much bigger than a silver dollar, assuming you hit the target each time.”

  “I hit it dead on each time and you know it,” Marcus said, chuckling. “Let’s see if you’ve still got it.” He emptied the cartridges, loaded the six-shooter, and handed it to her. “Let me go and put up a new target so we’ll have no doubt as to who makes the holes in it.”

  Marcus strode out to the tree where the target was nailed, pulled it down, and put a new one in its place.

  When he trudged back to her side, he nodded. “Go ahead and give it a go.”

  Giselle took aim and fired the six rounds. Each shot made the small hole in the target a little bigger.

  Marcus laughed and shook his head. “Damn, you’ve improved. I don’t see how, given you never practice.”

  “You taught me well.” Laughter welled in her voice. “It seems so easy.”

  “You just have a talent for it, my dear.” He was quiet while reloading. He carefully aimed and before firing, he asked, “So is Bradford Tyler still making his weekly visits?”

  Giselle watched a repeat of his earlier shots. When he finished, she nodded. “Yes. We are going riding tomorrow if the weather holds.”

  “He seems like a nice enough fellow. You two have been seeing each other for several months now. Dare we hope that things could become more serious?”

  “I do not know. I like him well enough,” Giselle stated honestly.

  “What about his feelings? Has he declared his intentions, or is he still being overly cautious?” Marcus held the firearm out to her.

  “I have no idea what his intentions are. We never talk about it when he visits and I am happy with his company.” She took the gun and followed his movements, emptying the chambers and reloading. She took aim and made a hole about an inch above the center. With each shot, the hole got bigger. When she handed the gun back to her father, she asked, “How long did it take for you to know Mama was the one for you, Papa?”

  He shrugged and reloaded. “Your mother took me by surprise. I guess it wasn’t too much longer after we first met when I realized I was in over my head with her.”

  “Well, I do not feel that way about Bradford. I am not sure I will ever feel that way about him or anyone for that matter. I do like the attention, though.”

  Marcus smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the edges into deep lines. “I don’t think you can plan on falling in love. With the right person, it just happens. There wasn’t much I could do to keep from tumbling for your mother. And I have to tell you; love was the best thing to ever happen to me, even though at the time, I recall I was none too happy about it. You and Marguerite were the next best things to happen in my life.” He steadied his aim and shot. Then he handed the pistol over. “If it’s not there, you can’t manufacture it, and if it is there, you can’t avoid it.”

  “I want no less than what you and Mama have, but I am beginning to doubt I will ever find true love,” Giselle replied, smiling at him.

  Marcus remained silent, not adding to her comments as she reloaded and fired.

  The two shot at targets for another hour, during which time the talk turned to other things. They’d always been close, but now that Giselle was older, she rarely got the chance to rekindle that closeness.

  “I’m done,” Marcus said, after finishing a round. “Let’s go and see what mischief your sister and mother are getting into before dinner, shall we?”

  Giselle nodded. As she followed him up to the house, it also dawned on her that she had missed her talks with her father, just as she missed seeing and being around her mother and sister. That would have to change.

  Chapter 7

  The train pulled into the Louisville station at 4:55 p.m.

  With much to do before his meeting, Simon hurriedly disembarked. The Louisville Hotel, where he would be spending the night, was only a few blocks away.

  An hour later, Simon strolled into the lobby of the Galt House. When someone called his name, he spun around to see Colin and Libby Thorpe, and waited for the two to catch up.

  “Hello, Simon.” Colin indicated Libby with the tilt of his head. “You remember my wife, Libby?”

  “Of course I do.” He took Libby’s outstretched hand and brought it to his lips. “How could I forget such a charming and lovely lady?” He glanced at Colin. “You’re a very lucky man.”

  Libby smiled. “Why, thank you.”

  Colin took Simon’s outstretched hand. “I’m well aware of my luck.” He then put an arm around his wife’s shoulders in a most proprietary manner. “I presume you’re the answer to our complaints and are attending our meeting?”

  “Yes.” Simon walked with Libby and Colin through the lobby. “I was hoping to catch you. Your farm is a perfect spot to begin my investigation. Can I count on your cooperation and garner an invitation for an extended visit?”

  “I’d be happy to help in any way I can. You’re welcome at Twin Oaks for as long as you need,” Colin replied. He glanced at his wife and smiled. “I rather like saying Twin Oaks.” He caught the confused look Simon sent him and laughed. “Libby gave my farm a name.”

  “Oh.” Simon nodded. “Thanks for the use of Twin Oaks. It will make my job easier. At the meeting, just introduce me as a breeder from Virginia. I have a small estate there, so it’s believable if anyone checks me out. Sticking to the truth as much as possible helps during an investigation like this. Can we meet afterward, just the two of us, to fill me in on what your letter didn’t say?”

  Nodding, Colin halted. “We can have a drink.”

  “Good.” Simon came to a stop beside him. Turning to Libby, he asked the question most pressing on his mind. “Where is your lovely companion this evening, Mrs. Thorpe? Are you joining her later?”

  Her amused half laugh rang in the air. “You can call me Libby. Everyone does. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but Giselle is not here. She’s at her home in Shelbyville.”

  “A pity.” Both relief and regret swept over Simon.

  “I’m sure you find it such,” Libby murmured, her smile deepening. “So, Mr. Harrington, does that mean you’ll be staying at the farm?”

  “You must call me Simon,” he stated politely, studying her knowing smile and wondering why she seemed more amused all of a sudden. A little wary now, he added, “To answer your question, ma’am, I’ll be staying for at least a week. I hope it won’t be an imposition.”

  “Oh, no. Of course not. In fact, Simon, I think the next week should be highly entertaining.”

  Watching her closely, Simon saw her speak but couldn’t make out her words, something about missing the show. “Excuse me? I didn’t catch that.”

  “I’m merely disappointed because Colin and I aren’t planning on returning to Twin Oaks until the end of the week and we’ll miss most of your visit,” she said, all smiles.

  “I’m sure I can be persuaded to stay later, if only to ensure partaking of your enchanting company.” Simon grinned, totally relieved the problem of the brown-eyed beauty would be safely out of the way.

  “What a delightful charmer you are. I bet you leave broken hearts all over the country,
” Libby replied in a voice laced with humor.

  Colin cleared his throat. “Libby, please keep in mind the man is here to solve a case, not charm you.” No one could miss the hint of jealousy in his comment.

  Not wanting to cause a rift between husband and wife, Simon excused himself. “I’m going to find a seat. I’ll see you later.” He bowed. “It was a pleasure, Libby.”

  Soft laughter preceded her farewell. “Good-bye, Simon.”

  ~~

  After he’d walked away, she turned to Colin, and said impatiently, “What was that all about? Don’t tell me you’re jealous?”

  “Of course not,” Colin quickly denied. “I was just stating a fact. The man is here to do a job, not charm my wife,” he added without hiding the irritation in his tone.

  “You are jealous. Oh, that’s rich. And so sweet.” Patting his cheek, she said in a placating voice, “Now, you go to your meeting and I’ll see you upstairs, later. And Colin, trust me. I won’t be thinking of Simon.” She started toward the staircase, muted laughter floating in the air around her.

  Watching her go, he shook his head. “Women!” Colin muttered under his breath, turning and storming off.

  “You all know why I called this meeting,” he said, entering the room. “I’d like to get to the bottom of what’s going on.” He nodded toward Simon. “This is Simon Harrington, a friend and fellow horse breeder from Virginia. A couple of incidents have happened there, so I asked him to listen in today,” he explained to the men and one woman seated around the large round table. Only a few present knew he was a US marshal. Both Simon and Colin thought it best to keep it that way.

  Colin sat, then went from person to person at the table asking questions and listening to the men talk about other incidents with the track. As each spoke, it became more obvious the episodes were escalating.

  Simon sat back, surreptitiously looking at those seated and noting at least two men he already knew by name, before moving on to those Colin had introduced. Breeders like Thorpe, including the only woman in the group, Caroline Hillier, as well as several businessmen, like Clark, who were backing the venture, and a couple of builders.