Rexanne Becnel (7 page)

With a mutinous set to her jaw and a sullen expression on her face, she turned her hostile gaze on him.

“Whatever you have to say, just say it and get it over with.”

His expression did not change, save for perhaps a slight, smug twist to his lips. His thoughts were well-concealed beneath his seemingly bland expression. Lacie knew, nonetheless, that something seethed beneath the surface. He had not come this far to challenge her claim to Sparrow Hill without what he considered to be good reason.

“I have a lot to say, sweet sister.” His eyes glinted in the lamp’s golden glow. “And a lot of questions to ask.”

He reached forward to turn off the spigot, then took up a sliver of soap and a wash rag. For what seemed an endless amount of time he worked up a lather on the cloth. Lacie had to restrain an impatient remark before he finally laid down the soap and returned his attention to her. His eyes were dark and unfathomable as he watched her.

“I find you too young and too pretty—in short, a highly unlikely sister-in-law,” he said as he slowly soaped his arms.

“How could you possibly know what sort of wife Frederick would pick?” she answered curtly, but her eyes fell away from his face.

“Some things a brother just knows. Even a bastard brother.”

Lacie’s ears should have burned at his use of that crude term. But she was somehow too distracted by the lazy movement of the soapy cloth on his well-muscled chest. As the silence began to stretch out, she realized she was staring. With a jerk she turned her head and once again stared straight at the wall.

“Your opinion of Frederick’s choice for a wife is hardly relevant. I
am
his widow. That’s all you need to know.”

“What you are…” He paused and his gaze moved boldly over her exposed shoulders and arms. Lacie felt as if his eyes actually saw further, as if even the meager protection of the water offered no proof against his brazen stare.

“What you are is an unexpected complication,” he murmured so quietly that she hardly heard his words.

“A—a what?”

Abruptly he straightened, and his smile, which had almost seemed warm, quickly became cold and ruthless. “What you are is a very clever little gold digger. Frederick was not a man who was likely to marry, but you saw a chance to make a quick bundle when he became ill. I doubt that you actually married him at all. But even if you did, I’ve no doubt the deed was done while he was not in complete possession of his senses. Tell me”—his eyes glittered menacingly—“which scenario is closer to the truth?”

Lacie’s jaw slackened at his brutal assessment of the situation. How could he have hit so close to the truth? Still, he had no way of really knowing anything and no way to prove it either. She shivered as she faced his icy stare, so sure and triumphant already. It was hard to feel confident when faced with such a daunting foe. She had to remind herself that although she was indeed guilty as accused, her motivations were nonetheless pure. Frederick had wanted Sparrow Hill to survive. His last words had been of his school. But if this arrogant man inherited it there would be no way to prevent him from closing it and selling everything off. That thought gave her courage, and she lifted her chin in a brave gesture.

“If there’s anyone who might be termed a gold digger, it’s most certainly you. Poor Frederick is hardly dead and you’re already here to pick his bones, trying to glean whatever you can from what he left behind.”

To this he only snorted. “I should not be surprised that you turn the attack on me since you have no defense of your own to fall back on. But I caution you, Lacie, I have no patience with liars or thieves. And you, despite the innocence you work so hard at projecting, you, I’m afraid, are both a liar and a thief.”

“I am
not!
” she shouted, sending a wave of bath water sloshing at the rim of the tub. “You are so greedy for everything Frederick had that you project your own wicked thoughts onto good and honest folks! You would not even want this school if you knew how meager its earnings are. Even the value of the house and lands are much reduced since the war!”

She struggled with the wet clinging towel that now hugged her breasts. “But you don’t care about that, do you? You’d sell everything for ten cents on the dollar just to squeeze any penny you could get out of it. You’d sell Sparrow Hill and destroy a southern tradition—”

“I don’t give a damn about southern tradition!” he thundered. “I don’t give a damn about this charm school, and I don’t give a damn about this town or any of the people in it!”

“You don’t care about anything at all but your own greedy motives,” she hissed. “Some of us try to rise above such vulgar emotions, but you would destroy everything for the few dollars you would gain by closing Sparrow Hill.”

“My motives are none of your concern, and it is not
my
relationship to Frederick that is in question. You’re the one trying to steal my rightful inheritance. You might as well admit it now, while I’m still willing to forget your crime,” he added with an arch to one raven-black brow.

“I’m guilty of no crime,” she vowed between clenched teeth. “You have no right to accuse me—”

“No? Let’s examine the information I’ve gathered so far.” He held up the fingers of one large hand as he ticked off the list. “Your marriage to Frederick came as a complete surprise to Judge Landry and to the rest of the people of Kimbell. Second, Frederick never so much as mentioned your name to me in any of his correspondence. Third”—he paused and gave her a chilling smile—“you clearly do not need glasses. The ones you wore today were strictly for show. What are you hiding? Why would a young woman of your obvious attributes disguise herself beneath such prim clothing and unflattering hairdos?” He paused and his eyes swept from her disheveled hair and flushed cheeks to her barely concealed breasts. “I’d guess your appearance right now is a lot nearer the real woman you are.”

Lacie gasped at his horrible implication, but he continued relentlessly. “Unfortunately for you, you’ve seriously misjudged your man this time. You see, I know that Frederick never relished—” He stopped suddenly and seemed to reconsider his words. “I’m no fool to be taken in by a con artist, no matter how pretty she is. You’re obviously the only one to benefit from this so-called marriage. There was no good reason for Frederick to marry you.”

“How would you know why he married me?” Lacie cried furiously. “Why is it so impossible to believe that he loved me? Or…or that I loved him? But then, you probably wouldn’t have the foggiest notion about such things!” she finished spitefully.

“Probably not,” he agreed, but his smile was hardly amiable. A shiver shook her and Lacie tried hard to calm herself as she cleared her throat nervously.

“I hardly think Sparrow Hill is such a prize that you would want it so badly,” she said in a strained voice.

“No? Well, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know. And if Sparrow Hill weren’t a prize,” he said sarcastically, “you wouldn’t want it either. Why not give up this foolish scheme? Give up your claim to Frederick’s estate?” He watched her closely. “I can make it worth your while.”

At those words, Lacie peered sharply at him. Was he trying to buy her off? Her eyes were a stormy gray as she returned his bold stare.

“There’s nothing you have that could tempt me to abandon this school.”

For long icy seconds their gazes remained locked in hostile battle. Then he slowly stood up and stepped out of the tub. Lacie’s eyes widened in shock at his naked, dripping body that now towered so intimidatingly before her. This was man at his most natural, man at his most powerful. All her anger fled as she stared helplessly at him. Mortification and awe, horror and fascination struck her speechless as he glowered at her.

“I’m offering you a way out—mark that well.” He leaned forward then and placed one hand on either side of her tub. Although she shrank back, she could not get away from his penetrating stare.

“You may have coerced Frederick—or perhaps sweet-talked him. But no fast-talking little conniver is going to cheat me out of what is rightfully mine.”

Their gazes seemed to remain locked endlessly. Then his head cocked slightly and his expression changed.

“There’s no reason why you have to be a complete loser in this, Lacie. As I said, I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.” His eyes moved slowly down to her lips, then further to the white towel, soaked and clinging so revealingly to her rounded breasts.

There was no mistaking the implication in his brazen stare, and Lacie was dumbfounded by the thought. How could any man be so despicable? How could he make so disgusting a proposal to her?

When his hand reached forward she flinched, but he only tilted her head back with one finger beneath her chin. “I suggest you think hard about my offer, because it’s the best one you’ll get. Otherwise”—he paused and his eyes roamed her pale, wide-eyed face—“otherwise, you will find yourself locked in bitter conflict with me.

“And Lacie”—he smiled wickedly and rubbed his thumb intimately over her full lower lip—“I fight dirty.”

Then he calmly pulled on his trousers, gathered up his shirt and boots, and with only an arrogant wink at her, quit the room.

T
HE NIGHT PROVIDED NO
solace; sleep eluded Lacie as she tossed on her bed, all the while trying desperately to think of a solution to her dreadful predicament.

She should never have undertaken such an improbable scheme, she told herself. She must have lost all reason. Yet she could hardly have abandoned the school either.

Dillon Lockwood would exact terrible revenge from her now. He couldn’t prove a thing; it was all just supposition, she reminded herself, but he would never let it rest.

Still, what else could he do?

Indeed, what he might do was precisely what worried her when she woke up once more from a fitful dream of rabbits and wolves. Although the eastern sky was just beginning to lighten in the hour before dawn, Lacie could not bear another moment in bed. Careful not to awaken the still-slumbering Nina, she eased from the moss-stuffed mattress and quietly donned a plain white blouse and a simple navy working skirt over her chemise. She did not bother with either petticoats or shoes and only smoothed back her sleep-tangled hair with one careless gesture.

She had no goal in mind as she went out onto the gallery that circled the house. She only knew that she needed some relief from her worried, restless thoughts.

At the gallery rail Lacie stopped and leaned out a little over the edge. In the dim light of predawn the school grounds appeared almost eerie. The trees were large shadows in a fuzzy gray world. The barn loomed almost indistinguishable from the haze, as did the smaller outbuildings. As her eyes grew accustomed to the light she saw the low layer of ground fog that so often blanketed the land in the early morning hours. Sparrow Hill might have been a land of dreams, floating on a cloud, not real at all.

How she wished that were so—that Frederick were still alive and the school just as it had always been!

But then a rooster crowed from somewhere near the barn, and reality intruded once more. With a sigh Lacie moved quietly along the gallery to where the outside stair descended to the ground.

Up till now, life at Sparrow Hill
had
been somewhat dreamlike, she admitted as she made her way silently down the stairs. It had been secure and comfortable, a haven from the war and its terrible aftereffects. Frederick had created his own little oasis at Sparrow Hill, and she had felt safe and insulated from the unpleasantries of life. Certainly she’d not had to deal with the Dillon Lockwoods of the world.

At the thought of Frederick’s half-brother, Lacie’s hands knotted in fists. Hang him and his ill-mannered ways! Who was he to come here and try to trample on her and this school? As she walked down the gravel path that led to the barn, she was hardly conscious of the dew that clung to her skirt and bare feet. She kept remembering his shocking audacity—and the way he had looked when he’d undressed for his bath.

Her stomach tightened at the memory—in anger, she told herself. Only anger. But angry or not, she could not pretend that he hadn’t affected her. He had sent her from absolute fury to cowering fear; he seemed more able to control her emotions than she was. To make matters worse, she was sure he knew it. Certainly he took great pleasure from it.

Determined to put such thoughts out of her mind, Lacie let herself into the feed room. With ease that came from long familiarity, she filled an old bucket with dried corn, then went outside to the chicken yard.

Summoned by the rooster’s earlier crowing, the hens were already scratching about in the dirt. At Lacie’s entrance they began to cackle and cluck in earnest, clustering about her in eager anticipation. One hen, however, stayed back, hopping slowly on one leg. Its other leg was bent back in a permanently crippled position.

Lacie flung the kernels about her quickly, and the chickens attacked them zealously. Then, as each tried to best its neighbor for the choicest seed, Lacie moved nearer the crippled old hen.

“Here, chick, chick, chick,” she called softly. “Come on, now. I’ve got a special treat for you.”

As if it knew this routine well, the hen cocked her head, hopping once or twice along the fence line but not straying far. When Lacie was close enough, she crouched down and placed a nice rounded handful of corn kernels in a little pile near a fencepost.

“Come on, now. Eat up before the others find you out.” Then she moved back toward the other feeding birds, tossing the last remnants among them.

For an instant she once again felt the dreamlike quality of the slow-dawning day. How many years ago had she first come to Sparrow Hill as a frightened, motherless little girl? Caring for the chickens had been the first chore assigned her, and for some silly, sentimental reason she’d never given it up.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, remembering the shy ten-year-old she had once been. Sometimes she felt that she’d not changed or truly grown up at all. Certainly there were times she felt just as scared and unsure and ill at ease as she had then. But she had only to open her eyes to see that time had passed. She had changed.