Rexanne Becnel (10 page)

The sooner she’d be gone as well, Lacie thought with a sinking heart. When he turned away from her and sat down at the desk, she was uncertain what she should do.

“Since you’re so anxious to leave, go ahead. There’s no need for you to stay and help me,” he quipped dryly, glancing at her.

But that was precisely what she must do, she realized at once. She must stay at his shoulder and watch everything he did. There was probably nothing in Frederick’s office to disprove her claim, but could she really be sure? Could she be sure he wouldn’t plant something that could make her look bad? He was nasty enough to do something like that.

Lacie’s face was drawn into a disapproving scowl as she seated herself on an old-fashioned walnut footstool. Dillon glanced over at her as she angrily arranged her skirts, and even though her eyes quickly darted away, she could not miss the slight, satisfied grin that curved his lips. He had her, she thought, in an untenable situation. She could either leave—and risk who knew what—or she could stay and suffer his obnoxious presence.

Her only consolation was that it was better to keep an eye on her enemy than to let him roam freely behind her back. For her enemy he most certainly was, despite his handsome face and beguiling smile. And seductive kiss.

She sternly buried that thought. He was first and foremost her enemy, determined to deprive her of her very home. No matter what, she must never forget that.

“So you’re staying,” he mocked softly. “Well then, the first thing I want to see is your marriage certificate.”

Lacie’s heart skipped a beat, but she swiftly composed her face and stood up. She was too unsure of her voice to reply to him, but stalked stiffly to a walnut bureau cabinet, opened the top right door, and produced the document in question. Then she thrust it in front of him.

She watched anxiously as he scanned the hand-lettered paper, telling herself all the while that he couldn’t know the signature was forged. He might suspect, but he couldn’t know for sure.

When he handed it back to her, giving her a hard, searching look, she felt a little better. He looked aggravated, and she took what pleasure she could from his annoyed expression. But she had no opportunity to enjoy this small victory for long.

“Very nicely done, Lacie. It looks good, but we’ll see.”

Time seemed to drag interminably after that. Lacie fidgeted in her seat and drummed her fingers impatiently on her knees. For his part, Dillon seemed much engrossed by his task. Drawer by drawer, file by file, paper by paper he went through Frederick’s desk. Occasionally he made a notation on a sheet of paper, but primarily he seemed to be taking it all in.

“What are these?”

His deep voice interrupted Lacie’s wistful daydream of Frederick walking into the room and quite soundly telling his half-brother off.

“What?”

“What are these?” Dillon held up a packet of papers neatly tied together with ribbons in notebook fashion.

“I’m not—I’m not sure,” Lacie answered. Hesitantly she rose and drew nearer. “Give them to me.”

She took them from him. “It looks like old files. Yes, these are account records on girls who’ve gone on to graduate.”

While she had studied them he had risen from his seat as well, stretching slightly as he did. Then he crossed to her vacated footstool and pulled it next to his chair.

“Here, sit down.” He met her anxious gaze and grinned. “If you insist on staying, you might as well be comfortable.”

Lacie could hardly be comfortable sitting less than two feet from him. His nearness was something she was acutely conscious of. From his dark hair to his sun-browned skin, to the sprinkle of black hairs on the backs of his hands, she found him impossible to ignore. Still, as he steadily continued through the contents of the desk, asking her more and more questions as he went, she had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that it certainly made sense for her to sit adjacent to him.

As the morning wore on she almost forgot her anger at him, for his questions were logical and his observations astute. Not until her stomach let out a low, very unladylike growl and he looked up did she realize it was nearing the noon hour.

“Hungry?” His eyes caught hers and at so close a distance she could see every glint of color in their green depths: the gold flecks near the center, the teal-blue ring that edged them. “If you had eaten breakfast instead of sulking in your room trying to avoid me, you wouldn’t be making such unbecoming sounds.”

Lacie’s lips pursed contentiously. “I hardly consider you an authority on proper behavior.”

“Because I wasn’t born a gentleman?” he retorted. Then he reached out and lightly caressed her lower lip with his thumb. “You’re right, Lacie, I’m no gentleman, despite the trappings of civility I now possess. But then, you’re not who you say you are, either. We make a rather appropriate pair, don’t you think?”

Lacie’s huffy “No!” was somewhat lost in her undignified haste to quit the room. He was the most hateful man alive! she fumed as she caught her skirts in one hand and hurried down the stairs. He was cruel and devious and—and why had he touched her lip that way?

She nearly collided with Ada in her pell-mell flight from Dillon.

“My goodness! What’s wrong?” Ada cried as she pulled up suddenly at the dining-room door. “What is it, Lacie?”

“It’s that—that—that despicable man! What else could it be?” Lacie panted as she cast a baleful glare back toward the stairs. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to move into Frederick’s suite of rooms after all.”

“Oh, dear! Did he find something? Something that gives you away?”

Lacie shook her head and tried to slow her frantic breathing. Then she looked at Ada and forced a meager smile. “No, he’s found nothing, although it’s not for want of trying. It’s just that…” she trailed off, unable—and unwilling—to explain how easily he unnerved her. With just his slightest touch, she had come undone. He taunted, criticized, and insulted her, and yet with that one touch her anger dissolved into a different, even more fiery emotion. What in heaven’s name was wrong with her?

“I think I know,” Ada murmured. A mischievous twinkle sparkled in her wide blue eyes. “None of us expected Mr. Frederick’s brother to be so young and handsome.”

In renewed dismay Lacie stared at Ada. Had he been testing his charms on her as well? That unsettling thought brought a frown to her normally serene brow.

“I suggest you show less concern for his handsome face and more concern for your own well-being,” she said rather tartly. But when she saw Ada’s surprised look, she was immediately chagrined. She reached a placating hand to her friend. “I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know why I’m behaving so horribly.”

“You shouldn’t fret so, Lacie. You’ve been worrying too much, carrying the burden of us all. It’s no wonder you’re a little on edge.” Ada smiled encouragingly and squeezed her friend’s hand. “You know, I think he’s actually more reasonable than he seemed at first. Why, he was absolutely charming at breakfast. And he’s quite captivated our Nina. He even offered to drive me into town after lunch.”

Lacie felt a shiver of apprehension. “I thought Leland was going to do that.”

“Oh, you know how Leland hates dealing with anyone but”—she paused and smiled painfully—“anyone but Mr. Frederick.”

Lacie didn’t reply as they headed to the gallery. She was too worried about what Dillon Lockwood was up to. What information did he hope to gain from Ada? What devious trick did he have up his sleeve?

As was their wont on hot days, the midday meal was served on the shady gallery, cooled by a light breeze. Mrs. Gunter had laid out a simple meal of thick-sliced bread and stewed ham with collard greens on a square table draped in lace-edged linen. Four chairs had been pulled up to the intimate little table, and for a moment Lacie hesitated. She had no doubt that Dillon would soon join them. But what was the best seating arrangement? While she absolutely did not wish to sit next to him—she’d been doing that for too long already today—neither did she wish to suffer the direct penetrating power of his deep green eyes from across the small table.

For a moment she considered skipping lunch altogether, but another rumble from her stomach squelched that idea. She was famished and more than ready for a good meal. It was her misfortune that this delicious-looking repast would be ruined by that man’s unavoidable presence.

“Well, everyone’s here this time.” Dillon’s voice, low and mellow, caused Lacie to jump in alarm. She was even more unsettled by the tiny smile that flitted across Ada’s face as she stared at her.

“Yes.” Lacie cleared her throat. “Everyone’s here, so perhaps we should sit down.”

Dillon seated Lacie first, then politely pulled out chairs for the smiling Nina and Ada. When he sat down directly across from her, Lacie determinedly avoided his gaze and instead bowed her head most devoutly.

“Dear Lord, we thank you for this meal. We thank you for all the generous blessings we’ve received from you and pray we may long continue the work you have given us. We especially pray that you will keep all our girls safe until they can return in September. To start a new school year,” she added quite pointedly.

She could not resist a quick, smug glance at him as she made a sign of the cross. But her little triumph at imploring God’s help in opposing him was short-lived. Although his expression revealed no hint of emotions, his eyes were clearly laughing at her.

She looked away at once, but the damage had been done. Nothing she could say or do—not even divine interference—was going to dissuade him. What was worse, he considered her and her efforts nothing more than mild amusement!

At that moment, if she’d had the power to, she would have had him struck down. By a bolt of lightning. By God’s hand. By any means available. As it was, though, she could only sit there, pick up her silver fork with the fancy A and K entwined monogram, and begin to eat her greens.

Despite her own silence, the table conversation did not lag. At Dillon’s subtle prodding, both Ada and Nina chattered about their homes. To Nina’s delight, Dillon had passed through her hometown of Marshall, Texas, on several occasions and even knew the street where she lived. Ada was clearly just as captivated by his familiarity with Piano.

“The train from Denver paused there only briefly, but even so, I could see that Piano has grown considerably since I was last there.”

That was when Lacie felt his gaze on her, and against her will she raised her eyes to him.

“Where are you from, Lacie? Certainly not from around here.”

“Kimbell is my home,” she answered coolly. “I’ve lived here most of my life.”

“But you weren’t born here,” he persisted.

Lacie paused. Although she hesitated to tell him anything about herself, she knew she was only being antagonistic. Telling him about her early childhood could hardly help him determine the truth about her marriage to Frederick.

“I’m from Mississippi, a plantation near Natchez. My father sent me here just before the War for Independence. My mother died the year before, and my old nanny was too ill to continue with me.” That should be enough to satisfy anyone, she thought.

But apparently it did not satisfy Dillon Lockwood.

“You were sent here to school, then. Why did you stay?”

Lacie was sorely tempted to say, “Because Frederick could not bear for me to leave.” But she feared Ada might inadvertently laugh and thereby ruin the effect. With great effort she stilled the nervous clenching of her fingers, then looked straight at him. “After the war the townhouse in Natchez was no longer there. The plantation had been burned. Taxes took the land. I had lost my father.” She paused, caught between anger at this impertinent stranger and sorrow at all she’d lost. “There was nothing left to go home to.”

For a moment she thought she saw compassion in his gaze. For an instant his dark green eyes almost seemed to glow with warmth instead of with the wicked fire she had seen in them up to now.

But the instant was too brief for her to be sure, and it was too far-fetched to be true. He harbored no compassion in his shriveled, unfeeling heart, least of all for her.

It was Nina who filled the uncomfortable silence. “You can come live with me, Miss Lacie.”

Lacie smiled fondly at her young charge and reached over to stroke the girl’s silky brown hair. “I can think of nothing I’d like better, dear heart. Who would take care of things here, though, if I were to leave?”

“But I’m gonna miss you. Please, come home with me.”

“Now, Nina,” Lacie began as tears welled up in the child’s sad eyes. “There’s no need for those tears. I promise you, everything will be just the same when you return after the summer.” She couldn’t resist shooting a baleful glare at Dillon. Couldn’t he see how his selfishness was going to hurt everyone, not just her?

“I’ll tell you what, dear heart. If you’ll wipe those tears away and try to be brave, I’ll let you ride into town with Miss Ada today.”

“Into town?” The girl sniffed twice and blinked her damp eyes at Lacie.

“Yes, and I’m sure I have an extra penny for a peppermint or two.” Then she glanced over at Dillon and assumed her most casual tone. “I’m sure you won’t mind if Nina and I tag along while you drive Ada to the railroad station in Kimbell.”

If he was disappointed that she’d foiled his attempt to interrogate Ada, he didn’t show it. But Lacie couldn’t resist a small secret grin of triumph. He thought he was so smart—most men did. But she was a well-educated woman, and well-motivated too. He might have a few tricks up his sleeve, but so did she.

T
HE PUNGENT SCENT OF
smoke and ashes lingered in the air even after the train disappeared from view. As Lacie stood on the recently built wooden platform, she felt unaccountably alone.

All around her people milled, voices boomed, and activity abounded. An elderly woman was being escorted off by a crowd of youngsters, clearly her grandchildren come to meet her; three gentlemen stood in a knot, cigar smoke circling their heads in the still afternoon. Another well-dressed man shouted instructions to four laborers as they cautiously led away two fine-looking mares that were jittery from their noisy train journey.