Savage Conquest (3 page)

"Do you remember what Mama told us on our
eighteenth birthday? She said we would know the
right man for us when we met him. She said she knew
Papa was to be in her life-circle the moment she
looked into his eyes. They loved each other so deeply.
Do you really think it happens that way?" Amanda
inquired seriously, for no suitor had made her feel
and think the way her beloved mother had described.

"Yes," Miranda responded quickly. "That's why
they wouldn't arrange any marriages for us. We must
choose for ourselves. What do you think about when
you look at Web? Does he make you feel warm and
tingly inside?"

"I've sampled lots of stolen kisses, Randy, but
none as good as Web's. He can be so romantic and dashing. Every single girl in town is after him,
including many widows and even a few married tarts.
It's exciting to know he's chosen me. I'll soon be
nineteen, and if I wish to marry well, who's better
than Web? Yet . . . "

Miranda's heart had been racing with panic until
her sister wavered. "If you have any doubts, wait
until after our birthday," she coaxed.

"First, I must learn if Web loves and wants me
more than he wants Papa's firm. That should come
to light when I take over."

A knock sounded loudly on the Lawrences' door.
Their housekeeper cook had been given the day off
to allow them total privacy for the meeting with
Lawyer McVane, so Amanda rose to answer the
summons. She was both pleased and annoyed to find
their first cousin, Lucas Reardon, lazing against the
portal. As much as she adored this kinsman standing
before her, she was eager to continue her conversation with her sister.

A broad grin claimed Lucas's mouth, creating
little wrinkles near the corners of his dark green eyes
and full lips. "A bad time to call, Mandy?" he
astutely surmised, his grin widening and eyes
sparkling.

"No, and yes," Amanda replied, stepping aside to
allow him to enter. "Lawyer McVane just left. Randy
and I were discussing the implications of his advice.
A glass of sherry, Luke?" she offered.

Lucas sat in a plush chair, watching both girls
with intense interest. Sometimes he wished he weren't related to the radiant beauties but, between
the war and the recent accident, they were the only
family he had left.

At one time, Lucas's father had been in business
with Joseph Lawrence. But when Joe sided with the
.North and his father with the South, all bonds had
been severed. Joe had always claimed that he
remained neutral, not having the heart to battle
either side. But there had been times when Joe's
decisions had greatly affected one side or the other.
The North hadn't fully trusted him because he was
Southern, but Southerners despised any kinsman
who didn't aid their cause. Now, Joe was dead and
the twins were all alone, except for their cousin.

Lucas understood how his cousins must be feeling
at this moment. It had been only nine years ago when
his parents, Sarah Beth Lawrence and Andrew
Reardon, had been slain during a battle near their
home. Time would dull the anguish, but it would
never completely vanish.

Amanda passed the sherry to Lucas then sat near
her sister. "What brings you here today, Luke?" she
asked, observing a curious strain in his expression
and voice.

Lucas's smile faded, a worried scowl replacing it.
"It's been weeks, my loves. What are you two
planning to do with the business? Any offers?" he
inquired, sinking back into the cushiony chair,
crossing one booted foot over his sturdy thigh.

"Plenty of offers, but we'll accept none," Amanda
announced. "We're keeping Papa's business, and I'm going to manage it. Right, Randy?"

Lucas's mouth fell open and his leafy eyes became
large circles. "You can't be serious, Mandy! A
woman in shipping? You'll lose every account
within a month. They'll laugh you off the docks."

Amanda puffed up with pride, jutting out her
dainty chin. "I know that business inside and out,
Luke," she declared smugly.

"From the books and your father's mouth, Mandy
love. What about the warehouses, the workmen, the
ships? You planning to do the rounds on them? The
first sailor or loader who caught you alone would
toss you on your fanny and take liberties. It isn't safe
or smart. I can't allow you to take such foolish
chances," he stated firmly.

"Don't be such a pessimist, Luke. You should
know I can take care of myself. According to McVane,
Randy and I own the business now. What I don't
know, I'll learn, or I'll find someone who does know.
Perhaps I'll hire a strong man who can do the rounds
for me," she teased, eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Make sure he's an honest one, or he'll steal you
blind while your nose is in those books," he warned
seriously.

"If you're referring to Web, drop it, Luke. He's
only taking care of things until Randy and I get
matters settled. He made us an excellent offer, but
we're not selling. For now, I can use Web's assistance.
One day you'll have to tell me why you two dislike
each other," she insisted, probing for a response
which he refused to give.

Lucas and Amanda discussed and debated this
topic for a long time as Miranda quietly listened and
watched. She was amused by the verbal battle, for she
already knew what the outcome would be.

Miranda studied Lucas as he conversed with her
sister. Miranda and Lucas were very close; he was a
friend, a teacher, a companion, a confidant, a partner
in daring adventures. At twenty-seven, her handsome
cousin still possessed a boyish mien and boundless
energy. His dark green eyes glowed with a vitality she
envied; they almost seemed to burn brightly from
some inner fire. Lucas was strong and agile, which
discouraged other men from provoking him. But her
cousin rarely fought, for he was intelligent and
perceptive. He could talk himself out of most
troubles.

Lucas had a combination of traits which made him
very attractive to women. He had a most enchanting
and winning grin-when Lucas Reardon smiled, it
was with his entire face, his entire being. His sable
hair fell into a natural part down the middle then
winged backward as the feathers near a hawk's
throat. Just above his collar, his thick hair curled
upward, almost impishly. Yes, Miranda decided to
herself, Lucas Reardon was a man to stir a woman's
heart, body, and soul-if she weren't his blood kin.
Next to Amanda, Lucas was the most special person
in her world; there wasn't anyone she admired or
trusted more than Lucas.

In a humorous display of defeat, Lucas threw up
his hands and shrieked, "I yield, love. Just remember I'm around if you need me."

All three joined in shared laughter. Miranda asked,
"Luke, what are you writing now? I haven't noticed
any articles in the paper recently."

Lucas sighed heavily. "I quit the paper, Randy. I
wasn't doing any good there. It'll be years before the
North listens to our side of the war. With that damn
cartoonist, Nast, and his other jaundice-eyed cohorts,
still portraying us as barbarians in Harper's Weekly,
the South might never be vindicated or understood.
You'd think he did enough damage to us during the
war. Did you know that even their school books now
carry the Northern bias against the South? Sometimes I think those journalists and newspapers did
more to continue the war and hostilities than the
soldier. How do they sleep at night after writing and
publishing such injurious trash? What about truth
and honor?"

"What can you do about it, Lucas?" Amanda
questioned, knowing how much it meant to Lucas to
set the records straight.

"I just wish there were some way to get reports or
books to the Northern people. All they hear and read
is how bad it still is down here. They're led to believe
we're savages ready for another uprising. They take
minor events and exploit them. The only path to
lasting peace is for both sides to learn the truth about
each other. And I want to be the pathlighter," he
eagerly announced.

"But how?" Miranda asked, listening intently.

"I've worked and waited a long time to get into a position to be of use to the South. As Richelieu said,
'The pen is mightier than the sword.' I have a plan to
strike a heavy blow at our Yankee conquerors. When
it's in motion, I'll tell you two all about it," he
revealed conspiratorially then winked at Miranda.

Miranda witnessed the mischievous look on
Lucas's face, one she had come to know well. "Give,
Luke; what's so funny?"

Cuffing her chin, he would only whisper, "You'll
be the first to know, Randy. I just might have a vital
role for you."

Following a light dinner, the three carried their
desserts into the parlor to sit before a warm fire. The
weather had turned slightly chilly, and the three sat
on the floor near the fireplace as they chatted and
enjoyed the treats prepared earlier by the housekeeper. Amanda still insisted on formal evening
meals in the dining room, including proper clothing, silver, crystal, china, and candles, but tonight
they also enjoyed the serene atmosphere of the
sitting room.

"I'm glad to see you two smiling again. I've been
plenty worried," Lucas confessed. "I wish there were
something I could do."

"Just standing by us is enough, Luke," Amanda
remarked softly. "We'll take care of everything
until . . ." She went silent.

Lucas's head jerked upward. He stared at the
golden-haired girl, and then at Miranda. Both their
expressions shouted "trouble." His heart thudded
heavily. "Until what?"

"Randy and I won't believe they're dead until we
view the bodies. Maybe a passing ship found them.
They might be alive somewhere. Papa was a skilled
sailor; the Merry Wind was in excellent shape. And
the weather wasn't bad. It doesn't make sense, Luke."

"The Merry Wind was found shattered on the
coast, Mandy. You're dreaming, loves. If they
survived, we would know by now. Don't build up for
a crushing fall. They're dead," he stated with
finality.

Miranda looked at him and shook her chestnut
head of hair. "Hope is a free commodity, Luke. It
isn't impossible."

"Don't do this," he pleaded, distressed by this
unexpected defiance of reality, wishing he could alter
it. Their gazes battled for a time. Lucas argued
reluctantly, "You're denying the evidence."

"Evidence of a broken ship but not our parents'
certain deaths," Miranda retorted.

Lucas looked from one girl to the other. "What if
the bodies are never found? What if they're never
recovered?"

"Then Randy and I have each other. At least Mama
and Papa had a happy life together, and they have us
to carry on for them. But as long as we can retain a
glimmer of hope, it will see us through this dreadful
period. When the time comes to accept the 'evidence,'
we'll be strong enough to do so. But not yet, Luke,
not yet. You must admit, we've survived the roughest
part and we're getting on with our lives. Don't fret.
We're going to be just fine."

Another knock sounded on their door. This time,
Lucas went to answer it. "What do you want,
Richardson?" he asked, not bothering to mask his
dislike for this man who was hotly pursuing his
cousin.

"I came to speak with Amanda, if you don't object,
Reardon. Isn't it time for you to get over Marissa's
loss?" Web hinted tauntingly.

"You never cared about her, so why did you ruin
her?" he flared angrily. With luck, his investigative
work on Web would pay off soon. With proof,
Amanda would be compelled to see it was more than
male pride and rivalry between them.

"If you care so much, why not take her back?" Web
scoffed.

Before Lucas could reply, Amanda joined them.
She was puzzled by the endless hostility between
these two vital men. As they stood facing each other
in the entrance hall, the currents of antagonism were
so strong they were almost a tangible force. Amanda
was piqued by their childish behavior. She was weary
of trying not to take sides and of trying to settle their
mysterious dispute.

"May I come in, Amanda?" Weber asked in a thick
southern accent. If his secret plans worked out,
Weber thought to himself, Lucas would soon be long
gone, putting a halt to his nosing around. Luke
always provoked him into acting badly before
Amanda, and those reporter's instincts could soon
get them both into trouble.

"Of course," Amanda responded, hoping they would conduct themselves like gentlemen tonight.
She almost stomped her foot in irritation when they
exchanged surly grins. It was evident they were going
to be as nasty as the rainy weather outside.

Lucas stalked into the sitting room, leaving them
in the hallway. He sat beside Miranda this time,
flashing her a frown. Amanda and Weber joined
them, each taking a chair before the sofa. Amanda
served Weber coffee and listened to his business
report.

Although Weber was courting Amanda, Lucas
never missed that flicker of desire for Miranda in
Weber's dark eyes. Positively, this ex-Rebel craved
both the Lawrence Shipping Firm and one of the
Lawrence girls. Weber had leveled his sights on
Amanda, but Lucas felt Web would just as soon have
either sister if the firm was included in her dowry.
Lucas was alarmed by Amanda's blind spot where
Web was concerned, but as much as he hated to admit
it, he knew Web could be a real charmer. If only
Amanda knew the real Web...

Weber Richardson was a die-hard Southerner to
the soul. During and after the war, there had been
rumors of his cruelties to Yankee prisoners, even
female ones. Web despised the North and what she
had done to the South, to his family, to him. The
Richardsons had lost everything: power, riches,
property, and family. And Lucas was very eager to
learn how Web had come back into money and
property so quickly. Web owned a smaller shipping
business near Joe's. Unknown to the girls, Web had
once approached Joe about merging the two firms and marrying Amanda. But Joe had refused both
requests. Undoubtedly Joe had recognized those
same bad traits which dismayed Lucas: Web was conniving, greedy, vindictive, and cold-blooded. Now
that Joe was gone, Lucas felt he must protect the girls
from Web. But to attack the man verbally without
proof would place Mandy on Web's side. Too, Web
was dangerous and wily. If only some suitor would
come along to distract Mandy and save her from Web,
Lucas wished silently.