Only with Tony would she have made the deplorable bargain, and that knowledge filled her with disgust. She had tried to cloak her actions today in nobility, but the plain and simple truth of the matter was that she wanted to be in Tony's arms again. Her eyes stung with unshed tears. And having been offered a way to do just that she had lunged at it, regardless of the cost.
Feeling like the lowest creature in nature, Arabella twisted in her bed. She had called Tony a wretched beast, but she was one, too. That she had, in fact, saved Highview and the Montgomery fortune, did not give her much comfort. She saw only her own ugly bargain with a Devil in the far-too-attractive shape of Tony Daggett.
* * *
On Wednesday morning, Arabella woke scratchy-eyed and exhausted. After her morning ablutions, she ruthlessly secured her bright, curling hair into a spinsterish bun at the back of her head and chose to wear a rather plain gown of fawn muslin.
Her intention was to leave for Greenleigh as soon as she could—once she had concocted another lie for Mary's delectation. Her spirits sank. Would the lying never stop?
Glumly she descended the grand, curving staircase, realizing that she was going to have to lie to Jeremy, too. If he had the faintest inkling of what she was up to, he would be at Sweet Acres demanding Tony's blood before she could blink. Unfortunately, she reminded herself drearily, it would probably be Jeremy's blood that would be spilled in any confrontation between the two men. Tony's handiness with both the sword and the pistol was legendary.
As she entered the breakfast room, she hadn't decided on what she was going to tell Mary to explain her sudden desire to go to Greenleigh for a few days. She was both relieved and dismayed to discover that the entire family had arrived ahead of her and was scattered along either side of the long table.
Breakfast was always a casual affair at Highview, and there was no set menu, nor a time for eating. One arrived when one felt like it and a black servant or Lawrence conveyed one's wishes for breakfast to the kitchen and Mrs. Hickman. A heavy silver urn with hot coffee was always kept on the mahogany sideboard, as well as some fruit and freshly baked biscuits to sustain those who could not wait for more substantial victuals.
After greeting everyone, and not particularly hungry, Arabella selected some early strawberries and a cup of coffee. There was the usual morning chatter, George declaring that he was going to ride his pony to the small creek that traversed the plantation to look for tadpoles, and John immediately insisting that he be allowed to tag along. Sara and Mary had already made plans to be driven into Natchez to select a pattern and material for a ball gown for Sara; Jane was leaving on Friday to stay for a few days with her bosom friend, Edith Gayle, at the Gayle plantation.
Idly listening to everyone's plans, Arabella sipped her coffee and picked at her strawberries. She wondered bitterly what sort of lie she could concoct for Mary's benefit to explain her sudden desire to stay at Greenleigh, especially since she had just sent Jeremy there to look the place over for her.
"And have you no plans for today?" Mary asked her, interrupting Arabella's unpleasant thoughts.
Arabella stared at her, her brain blank.
Mary smiled. "I thought for certain that you would have come up with a reason to visit Greenleigh by now."
Arabella choked on her coffee and sent her stepmother an alarmed glance. "R-R-Really?" she finally managed to stammer. "Why is that?"
Sara and Mary exchanged a glance, and both burst out laughing, their blue eyes sparkling as they stared at her.
"You have forgotten," crowed Sara.
When Arabella still looked utterly at sea, Mary asked with amusement, "Have you forgotten that Cousin Agatha is coming to visit? Remember, she always comes this time of year and stays for a few months. In her last letter, she wrote that if the journey upriver went well, she hoped to arrive sometime today or tomorrow. I know I told you about it last week when her letter arrived." Her amusement deepened. "Since then I have been waiting for you to come up with a reason why you simply must be away from Highview for at least a few weeks. Never tell me that you have had a change of heart about Cousin Agatha."
Arabella's lack of affection for Mary's only cousin, Agatha Rutledge, was only equaled by Agatha's blunt manner toward Arabella. Several years older than Mary and Richard, Agatha was a childless widow of long standing, who also had a penchant for sticking her nose where it wasn't wanted. Ruling her own household with an iron hand, she was of the notion that there was only one way of doing things—hers. In her favor, she was genuinely fond of Mary and Richard and fairly doted on the children. It was privately understood that Agatha meant well.
Two years ago, when word of William's death had reached her at her home in Walnut Hills, Agatha had immediately hurried upriver to give solace to her dear cousin. It took all of Mary's persuasive powers to prevent her from moving permanently to Highview. She had been convinced that Mary and the children needed her to run their lives for them and was resentful that it was to Arabella they turned in their hour of need.
Not surprisingly, Agatha's bossy manner grated on Arabella. She tried to make excuses for Mary's cousin, but the plain fact was that she and Agatha simply did not get along. Arabella had little patience with Agatha's forceful ways, and Agatha resented Arabella's influence over the family.
Grasping the lifeline Mary had unknowingly tossed her, Arabella put on a shamefaced expression. "I was just this very morning, uh, trying to think of a reason to go to Greenleigh that wouldn't sound mendacious to you," Arabella muttered, aware she was telling the truth yet not telling the truth.
"Do not worry about it," Mary said. "Go to Greenleigh and see how well my eldest son is carrying out your charges. Cousin Agatha will be disappointed that Jeremy is not here to greet her—you know how she dotes on him—but the knowledge that she will be able to rule Highview without interference from you will be more than adequate compensation for his absence."
Free to leave for Greenleigh with Mary's blessings, Arabella felt like the lowest worm on earth. "Are you certain that it will not be terribly inconvenient for you?" she asked earnestly. "Cousin Agatha sometimes bullies you unmercifully. Are you positive that you want to face her alone?"
"Agatha does not bully me quite as much as you fear, my dear. But if she insists upon my doing something that I do not want to, I shall," she added with a twinkle, "tell her that you have absolutely forbidden me to do it and that I have promised you that I shall not."
Arabella choked back a giggle. "You would hide behind me?"
"Without compunction," Mary replied promptly, her blue eyes glinting. "Go to Greenleigh, Arabella. You know that you are eager to do so. Let Cousin Agatha settle in and have the time in which to explain to the children and me all that we are doing wrong. Once she has shown us the error of our ways, she will relax and not be so inclined to find fault with everything. You know how she is." She smiled gently at Arabella. "She is not a bad person, just autocratic."
Arabella nodded glumly. "I know she means well, but I cannot seem to help bristling at her manner. We are like chalk and cheese."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Mary argued. "You both have my best interests at heart, and while it is your nature gently to suggest things to be done, Agatha tends to demand they be done. She cannot help it."
Arabella made a face, not liking the comparison. Deciding she'd have to examine that idea more deeply at a later time, she set down her cup, and said decisively, "Well, as long as you have no objections, I think I shall see to my packing and leave just as soon as I can for Greenleigh. I shall send Jeremy back in a few days, but I will probably remain at Greenleigh for most of Agatha's visit."
"I rather suspected that would be your plan. I shall tell Agatha that you have been thinking of making renovations to the place and that the project could not be put off." She smiled impishly at Arabella. "I shall also tell her how very dreadful you felt when you realized that you would miss her arrival."
Both Sara and Jane, who had been listening to
the exchange, laughed aloud.
"Oh, Mama," exclaimed Sara. "What a bouncer! You should be ashamed of yourself."
"And I am," Mary added hastily. "But it is far kinder to tell a tiny little lie than to give Cousin Agatha another crime to lay at Arabella's door."
* * *
The threat of Agatha's impending arrival lent wings to Arabella's feet. Not two hours later, she pulled away from Highview driving a high-stepping brown gelding with a black male servant perched behind her on the cart for the sake of propriety. Her maid would finish her packing, and arrangements had been made for her things to be driven over to Greenleigh. But before she set off to Greenleigh she had one last errand to run: to deliver the deeds safely into Mr. Haight's hands.
Remembering the previous night's attempted robbery and even knowing that it was unlikely she would find herself in the same situation today, and in broad daylight, Arabella was taking no chances with the deeds. The precious documents, still in the portfolio, were safely hidden under the seat of the cart.
The visit with Mr. Haight took only a few minutes. Handing him the portfolio once she had been shown into his office, she said, "You see, you had nothing to fear. Here are my deeds returned safely to you. I would suggest we leave them in the portfolio for the time being."
Mr. Haight laid the portfolio on the edge of his desk and regarded her over the rims of his spectacles. "I do not suppose you will tell me why you needed them?"
Arabella dimpled at him. "Indeed not, kind sir. You would only scold."
"No doubt," he returned. Rising to his feet, he walked over to a big black iron safe that sat in one corner of the room. He unlocked it, and placed the portfolio on one of the shelves inside the safe. He then shut the heavy door and relocked the safe.
Looking back at Arabella, he smiled. "Now they are truly safe."
With the deeds delivered, Arabella's cares seemed to lift, and it was with relief that she finally guided her horse from the jessamine-lined streets of Natchez and began the journey to Greenleigh.
The road was busy, and they passed several pedestrians, vehicles, and horsemen on their way into Natchez as they drove away. After the first few miles traffic became nonexistent, and giving the gelding his head, Arabella let the animal set the pace and settled back to watch the passing countryside. Deliberately, she did not let herself think of Tony Daggett.
Greenleigh was situated nearly two hours from Natchez, and Arabella had planned to use the time in concocting some sort of story for Jeremy's edification to explain her unexpected arrival. For once she was grateful for Agatha's annual visit—it gave her an excellent reason for beating a hasty retreat to Greenleigh, but that still left her searching for an explanation for the return of Jeremy's vowels.
Her nose wrinkled. Technically the vowels had not been returned, but there was no longer any danger of the family being tossed out of Highview. Jeremy's fortune was safe, and with it, Mary's future and those of the other children.
Their problems were over... once Tony gave her the letter relinquishing his rights to the vowels. Her heart gave a painful little thump. Until she had that letter safely in her hands the family was still in danger, and an unpleasant thought suddenly occurred to her. If something were to happen to Tony, if an accident should befall him or some terrible tragedy overtake him before he wrote the letter... Her stomach felt hollow, and she was aware of a feeling of light-headedness.
Telling herself that her reaction had nothing to do with the idea of a world without the aggravating Tony Daggett in it and everything to do with her family's future, Arabella calmed herself. Nothing was going to happen to Tony, at least not in the next few days. Of course, once he had given her the letter, she thought grimly, he could bloody well go hang!
Chapter 7
It was midafternoon before Arabella finally turned the brown gelding down the long tree-shaded driveway that led to Greenleigh. Like many of the plantations in the Natchez area, the main house was built on a bluff overlooking the turbulent Mississippi River.
Greenleigh was not a grand house, but it was charming and welcoming, with its wide, shaded verandas draped with fragrant honeysuckle and graceful arched windows. An extensive stretch of lawn sprinkled with magnolias and oaks surrounded the pale green and cream-colored two-story house on three sides. From the front veranda, there was an excellent view of the river. Behind the house lay the many outbuildings; the office, the kitchen, the dairy, slave quarters, and stables. Beyond them lay the green cotton fields, with their rose-and-white blossoms and, in the distance, the untamed woodland.
Pulling her horse to a halt in the circular carriageway, Arabella stared with dismay at the horses that were tied to the various black-iron hitching posts in front of the house. Jeremy, it appeared, was entertaining friends and was certainly not going to be expecting a visit from his sister. She supposed she should be grateful as it put off the need for immediate explanations.
Samuels, the black servant she had brought with her, saw to the horse and cart, leading the horse away in the direction of the stables. Taking a deep breath, Arabella slowly mounted the broad front steps.
Greenleigh was maintained by a minimum of staff, and Arabella was not surprised that there was no one to greet her as she entered the main hall at the front of the house. A swift glance around revealed that the older couple she had placed in residence to see to the upkeep of the place did their job well. The oak floor gleamed, and the delicate brass-and-crystal chandelier in the center of the high ceiling glistened. There were several doors that opened off the main hall, and at the far end was a winding oak staircase that led to the upper floor. The hall narrowed at that point and continued along the left side of the staircase, leading to the back of the house.
For a moment Arabella stood in the middle of the hall, uncertain in which direction to look for Jeremy. A crack of laughter and the sound of masculine voices came from behind a pair of double doors to her right. Walking to the doors, she gave a gentle tap since after all, she was unexpected, but without waiting for a reply she pushed open one door and entered the room.
There were six gentlemen in various relaxed poses scattered around the main saloon, and at Arabella's entrance conversation ceased.
"Bella!" Jeremy exclaimed, as he left his position near the gray-marble fireplace and hurried in her direction. "What are you doing here?"
Smiling as she stripped off her tan driving gloves, Arabella said teasingly, "Well, it is my house, you know."
"Dash it all! That is not what I meant at all, and you know it! Is all well at Highview?" he asked anxiously, his blue eyes full of questions. "It is nothing, er, urgent that brings you here?"
Arabella shook her head. "Not exactly." Sending Jeremy a look, she added succinctly, "Cousin Agatha."
Jeremy laughed. "Oh, gad! I forgot that she is due to arrive any day now."
"Yes, she is—today or tomorrow. And I thought that it would be, ah, more comfortable for everyone if I came to inspect Greenleigh and see for myself how the Tidmores were doing."
Glancing beyond Jeremy, she smiled warmly at Tom Denning and James Gayle, Jeremy's closest cronies, who had risen to their feet upon her entrance into the room. She was familiar with both young men and treated them with the same easy affection that she did her brother. It was James's sister, Edith, whom Jane was going to visit on Friday.
Having acknowledged the hasty bows of Denning and Gayle, her smiling glance fell upon another young man she recognized, although at twenty-five, Morgan Slade was a bit older than Jeremy and his friends. Now that she thought of it, he was married and the father of a young son. What, she wondered, was Morgan doing there? He was not part of Jeremy's usual circle.
Walking up to her, Morgan bent over her hand. "Miss Montgomery. A pleasure as always." A smile lurking in his piercing blue eyes, he added, "Allow me to introduce you to my friend, Jason Savage, and his companion, Blood Drinker."
Arabella's eyes widened as the two men came forward. Savage was a tall, broad-shoulder
ed young man with the most striking emerald green eyes she had ever seen in her life. While Blood Drinker... She swallowed. Blood Drinker was an Indian, his swarthy skin and unfathomable black eyes gave away his heritage, as did the pair of thick shining black braids that hung halfway down his back. They were both dressed in well-worn fringed buckskins and moccasins and looked out of place in Greenleigh's elegant salon.
"H-h-how do you do," Arabella replied politely, wondering again what was going on. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
Jason's handsome face was full of amusement at her restraint. Many a gently reared woman would have fainted dead away if she had been suddenly confronted in her parlor by two such rough-looking characters as him and Blood Drinker.
"You are no doubt," Jason said, "wondering what we are doing here."
Arabella arched a slim brow and sent him a look.
Jason laughed at her expression. "There is a very innocent explanation, I assure you. Your brother and his friends met us on the road while they were out riding this morning. When Morgan introduced us and mentioned that Blood Drinker and I had traveled across the Sabine River into the Territory of Texas with Philip Nolan on some of his horse-gathering expeditions, nothing would do but that we return here to talk about our adventures."
"Bella, Savage says that there is a fortune to be made in Texas," Jeremy broke in excitedly. "He says that there are tremendous herds of wild horses just waiting to be captured and resold in Natchez or New Orleans. Tom and James and I are thinking of joining Nolan the next time he goes west. It will be a great adventure, and just think, I could come back with a fortune in horseflesh."
It was as well, Arabella decided wryly, that she had already taken matters into her own hands to save the family fortune, else she had little doubt that at the first opportunity, Jeremy would be heading out into the un-tracked, hostile wilderness of Spanish Texas determined to risk his neck. A little shudder went through her at the dangers he would have faced. Not the least would have been falling into the hands of the hordes of savage Indians who roamed those high plains—even in Natchez tales of their terrible deeds were mentioned.
At Long Last Page 9
