Bride in Barbados (10 page)

He came to sit on the side of the bed to pull on tall
leather boots. "Mala will have something waiting for me. I usually eat
it on the run. You might as well go back to sleep for a while."

"Will I see you at lunch time?"

"I doubt it. I'll probably eat with the hands wherever
they happen to be working at noon." He finished putting on his boots
and bent to kiss her quickly, but thoroughly. He straightened and
brushed the hair off her forehead, his touch gentle. "I don't think
Curt and Violet will be around, either. You won't be too lonely, will
you?"

"I'll find something to do. Can you leave me the car keys?
I thought I might go into town."

"They're on the dresser. Remember to drive on the left
side of the road."

She touched his cheek and smiled at him with love in her
eyes. "I'm sure the other drivers will remind me if I forget. Was that
your car I heard driving away from the house last night?"

"Yes. I went to the bank."

"At that hour?"

"I wanted to take a look at the correspondence that had
arrived in my absence and see if the manager had left any messages for
me. You should have seen the pile of mail on my desk. It took me three
hours to get through it."

"You warned me you worked long days, but you never said
anything about the nights."

"It doesn't happen ordinarily," he assured her. "But I
knew I'd be working on the plantation today and wanted to check in.
Except for the mail backlog, they seem to have gotten along very well
without me."

"Do you spend much time at the bank?"

He shook his head. "A few hours one or two days a week,
except for board meetings and emergencies, which don't arise very
often." He kissed the tip of her nose and got to his feet. "Want me to
tell Mala to bring your breakfast up on a tray?"

"I'd rather go downstairs. I want to explore my new home."

He stood beside the bed, looking down at her for a long
moment. There was something in his eyes that she didn't understand, and
it made a tiny feeling of apprehension go through her. "I want you to
be happy here, Susan."

"I'll be happy wherever you are."

His eyes cleared and he said, "I'll try to be home by six."

She watched him go, then got out of bed and dressed
quickly in khaki shorts and a cotton knit shirt with wide red and white
stripes. Briefly she thought about unpacking before going downstairs,
but decided to put it off until later. Maybe if she hurried, she would
catch another look at Travis before he left the house.

Mala was in the kitchen alone, however. "'Mornin', Miz
Susan," she said. "You like breakfast now?"

"Yes, please. I think I could eat a horse."

"I fix Mistah Travis eggs, bacon and biscuits every
mornin'. What I fix you?"

"That sounds fine."

"You go on in the dining room then. I bring it in awhile."

Susan would have liked to stay and get better acquainted
with the woman, but she sensed that she could not force Mala to accept
her. She would have to prove that she would be good for Travis first.
She also sensed that Mala might be resentful of intruders in her
kitchen.

She wandered into the dining room and on through several
other rooms—a large living room filled with Victorian
furniture and a faded floral-patterned carpet, a smaller, sunnier
sitting room with white wicker furniture that Susan found much more
attractive and a masculine-looking paneled study with book-lined
shelves and a desk.

When she returned to the dining room, Violet was sitting
at one end of the long, linen-covered table. She looked very attractive
in a lime-green sundress, her hair twisted atop her head in a loose bun.

"Good morning, Violet," Susan greeted her. "I didn't
expect to see you. Travis thought you'd be away from the house today.
Anyway, I'm glad I won't have to eat breakfast alone."

"You'd think Travis could have stayed around on your first
day here," Violet remarked.

Susan refused to admit, even to herself, that the same
thought had occurred to her. She took a chair near the other woman. "He
warned me before we married that he works very hard. I'll have to find
something to occupy my time, I guess."

"A job? I don't think Travis would care for that."

"I've no desire to pursue my former career. I was thinking
more along the lines of volunteer work."

"That's wise, since you and Travis will be starting a
family."

The odd note in Violet's statement perplexed Susan. "I
hope we will. Both of us want children." Seeing what she thought was
contempt on Violet's face, she quieted abruptly.

"What was the former career you mentioned?"

"I was a professional singer. That's how I met Travis. He
came into the club in Miami where I was singing."

Violet's green eyes held an almost cunning look. She
really was a curious woman, Susan decided, not the sort that she'd
choose as a close friend. Mala appeared then with their breakfast and
Violet continued to regard Susan keenly until Mala had served them and
gone back to the kitchen.

Then she said, "When was that?"

Susan looked up from buttering a biscuit. "Sorry, you've
lost me."

Violet was shaking a generous amount of salt over her
scrambled eggs. "When was it that Travis came into the club where you
were singing?"

Susan recalled that Travis had declined to answer a
similar question from Curt the night before. But his attitude toward
his cousins would probably cause him to consider any question from them
impertinent. She saw no reason to hide the fact that she and Travis had
known each other such a short time. People might raise eyebrows, but in
time they would realize that they had known what they were doing.

"About a week ago," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Violet's green eyes flew up to Susan's face. "My God!"

Susan laughed at her stunned expression. "Why, Violet, I
do believe I've shocked you."

Her eyes narrowed. "You don't strike me as being gullible
where men are concerned."

Her choice of words surprised Susan. She wondered suddenly
if Violet was baiting her. She took a bite of her egg before she
responded. "I don't think I am, but I'm not bitter on the subject,
either. I get the feeling that you are. Aren't you married?"

"Divorced," Violet said shortly.

"Not amicably, I gather."

"It was dreadful. Not just the divorce, but the marriage
as well." She uttered a brittle little laugh. "My hormones overcame my
common sense or I'd never have agreed to marry him in the first place.
I already knew that men are beasts and marriage merely confirmed me in
that opinion." She looked steadily into Susan's eyes. "I've never met a
man who can be trusted."

"I've known a few like that, too," Susan said, "but you
can't paint them all with the same brush. We don't like it when they
apply sweeping generalizations to women."

Violet shrugged. "I can understand why you'd want to
rationalize your reasons for marrying Travis, but if you say that he
swept you off your feet, I'll scream."

Susan smiled slightly as she helped herself to pineapple
preserves. She didn't think Violet was thirty yet, but it certainly
hadn't taken long for her to become a died-in-the-wool cynic. She felt
rather sorry for the woman, and she was coming to understand why Travis
didn't like having her around.

"I won't use that old cliché then," she said, "but
truthfully, that's very nearly what happened." She saw Violet's
disbelieving stare and went on, "I'm not a naive teenager, Violet, and
I'd given up believing in love at first sight years ago—until
I met Travis."

Violet was very still all at once. "Dear me," she murmured
finally, "this is even worse than I thought."

Susan frowned. "Worse? How?"

Susan stared at her and then she began to detect some of
what was behind the other woman's words. "I suppose you assumed I
married him for his money." She found that she resented the fact that
Violet had jumped to her own cynical conclusions and hastened to set
her straight. "I had an idea that Travis was prosperous, but I didn't
realize how much so. I wouldn't have cared if he'd been destitute,
though. We married because we love each other, and that's the only
reason."

Violet's green eyes glittered. "You can't blame me for
being skeptical—under the circumstances."

Susan's irritation was growing. "I don't know what you're
hinting at, but I'd prefer that you speak plainly. It's obvious that
you don't approve of the fact that Travis is married. Is it jealousy?"

"Jealousy!" The redhead croaked out the word. "Oh, my dear
Susan, you
are
naive, no matter what you say."
She drained her coffee cup, all the while gazing at Susan over the rim.
As she set it down, she added, "Well, enjoy it while you can. You'll
discover what you've gotten yourself into soon enough."

Susan was rigid. "Would you care to explain what you mean
by that?"

She seemed to be deliberating with herself before she
said, "No, I don't want to be the one to tell you." She fingered her
cutlery. "I will give you one piece of advice, though. Whenever you
have a chance, ask Anthony Valdez about the will."

"Anthony Valdez? I've never heard of him."

"He's Travis's attorney."

Susan pushed back her chair. "Apparently you get some kind
of kick out of talking in circles. I don't enjoy it myself. If you'll
excuse me, I have things to do."

At that moment, Curt strode into the room, smoke curling
from the end of the cigarette protruding from the ivory holder clamped
in his mouth. He looked agitated. Without greeting either of the women,
he said to Violet, "After six phone calls, I finally found two
available hotel rooms. How soon can you be ready to go?"

"Thirty minutes," Violet said.

Susan looked from one to the other. "You're going to a
hotel?"

"Oh, didn't Travis tell you?" Curt inquired peevishly. "He
invited us to leave."

Susan could think of no appropriate reply to that, so she
murmured, "Well, if I don't see you before you go, good-bye." She
couldn't bring herself to utter the hypocritical claim that she was
pleased to have met them. After her conversation with Violet, she
wanted them out of the house as much as Travis did.

Curt and Violet exchanged a speaking look. Wondering about
the strange behavior of the two, Susan left the room to go upstairs. By
the time she reached the bedroom, she realized that she was actually a
little disturbed by Violet's enigmatic remarks at breakfast. She
suspected that the woman had been trying to make her question the
wisdom of having married Travis so quickly. Did Violet really believe
that she, a total stranger, could come between Susan and the man she
loved so deeply—and while they were still honeymooners, too?
It was so ludicrous that Susan laughed aloud.

As for Curt, he had looked angry enough to explode just
now at having to go to a hotel. Surely he hadn't thought that Travis
would welcome them into his home, for it was evident that there was
animosity of long standing between her husband and his cousins. At
least Curt had cleared up one thing for her. Last night, when she had
heard the men's angry voices in the courtyard, they had evidently been
arguing over Curt's and Violet's moving out. Though why Curt would even
bother to argue, she didn't know; this was Travis's house and he didn't
want them here.

Her husband's cousins were definitely strange, she told
herself. And she wasn't going to spend anymore time trying to figure
them out. Whatever there was between Travis and them had nothing to do
with her, although she suspected, from Violet's mention of the
attorney, that she and her brother might resent the division Travis's
grandfather had made of his estate. Had they wanted the plantation
instead of the stocks and bonds that Travis said had been left to them?
Susan shook her head and rid herself of the question. Probably the less
she knew about it the better for all concerned. There was nothing worse
than family squabbling after someone had died.

Her glance fell on her suitcases, and she decided to
unpack and give Curt and Violet time enough to leave before she
ventured downstairs again. The room's large closet was practically
empty. Travis must keep his clothing in another room. Perhaps he hadn't
used this bedroom before his marriage.

She took her time removing things from her suitcases and
hanging them in an ordered fashion in the closet—first
dresses, then blouses and shirts and finally skirts and pants. Then she
set her shoes in a row on the floor beneath the clothes.

The large chest of drawers was empty, too, so she arranged
her nightgowns and underthings in it. Then she carried her cosmetic bag
into the bathroom and set everything on a tier of glass shelves on the
wall next to a large mirror with a wide gilt frame.

When she was sure she had given Curt and Violet plenty of
time to be gone, she spent the next hour exploring the house. There
were even more rooms than she had expected, and all of generous
proportions.

The second floor contained six bedrooms and four baths.
She counted eight rooms downstairs. In addition to the living and
dining room, sitting room, kitchen and study that she'd already seen,
there was a room containing a small organ and a grand piano, another
more formal parlor, and a large pantry next to the kitchen, where
nonperishable foodstuffs were stored. When she questioned Mala she
learned that the laundry was done in a separate wash house behind the
garages in back and that Mala and Amii lived with their husbands in
another house still farther back.

As Travis had said, the furniture was old, but some of it
looked to be of very good quality. Although the carpets and window
coverings in some of the rooms were rather worn, there was a general
atmosphere of old-fashioned gentility throughout the house. Of course,
Susan could see many ways in which the decor could be made to look more
cheerful. Travis had said that she could do some redecorating as they
could afford it, indicating that, in spite of his assets, he might not
be rolling in ready cash. But it didn't matter. She liked the house as
it was and could be patient about changing things. For now it was
enough to live there with Travis.