When the Splendor Falls (15 page)

“Well, we sure try not to let that ever happen,” he said ruminatively, thinking the young miss was up to something. He’d seen that mischievous look in her eyes far too often not to be concerned now. “Don’t know what this household would come to if somebody didn’t sleep with one eye open ’round here. But I’m slowin’ down, Miss Leigh. Didn’t hear you come in just now. Of course, you were walkin’ like you didn’t want any one to hear yer step.”

“I didn’t see Mama when I came down,” Leigh said, hiding a guilty look as she stared down at her oldest pair of slippers, the soles so thin it was almost as if she were walking in her stockinged feet. Jolie had threatened to throw the slippers out just the day before, declaring that even a scullery maid would have more pride than to be caught wearing such a scuffed pair of shoes. “I’ve never known Mama to sleep past dawn. Papa’s still asleep. I heard his snores coming from the nursery when I came down the hall. She isn’t ill, is she? Is that why Papa is sleeping in the nursery? I didn’t see Jolie, either.”

“Mister Stuart was sittin’ up late with Mister Nathan, an’ you know how yer papa is when he gets to talkin’ an’ drinkin’, an’ he can’t hold his liquor like he used to, not that anyone can tell him so, ’specially when he’s drinkin’ with Mister Nathan, he’s such a big gentleman, I don’t think there’s enough corn whiskey in this county to put him under the table. So Mister Nathan, still steady on his feet, helped me put Mister Stuart, singin’ sad songs, in the nursery so he wouldn’t disturb Miss Beatrice Amelia. She an’ Jolie went out back mighty early. There’re some sick who need tendin’. Jolie says she reckons it was that Jassy gettin’ sick from eatin’ too much catfish an’ cracklin’ bread last night. She’s a giddy-headed goose—” Stephen paused, and censoring himself, he continued, “an’ thunder always scares her into a fit an’ then she gets everyone’s hair standin’ on end. Never heard such a commotion with all the wailin’ an’ moanin’ goin’ on. Reckon a fox sneakin’ into the hen house couldn’t have caused more noise.”

“Did you know that Jolie predicted the thunder?” Leigh asked, nervously twisting the ribbons of her bonnet as she held it in front of her.

“Always does,” Stephen replied, unimpressed by Jolie’s omniscience.

“She said it was angry spirits,” Leigh added, watching him closely.

Stephen snorted. “More likely she felt it in her big toe. It’s been achin’ her somethin’ fierce of late.”

Leigh frowned. “You really think so?” she murmured, breathing easier.

“Now, Miss Leigh, what’re you goin’ to eat fer breakfast?” Stephen asked, his thoughts returning to more important details as he held out a chair for her at the long mahogany table and patted the green satin seat encouragingly.

“I just want a muffin, or one of these sweet rolls,” Leigh replied, reaching out for one of the flaky caramel pecan pastries piled high in a silver basket in the center of the table. She was more worried about what had happened to the buckskins than what she would eat for breakfast. Jolie had told her last night that she would hang them up in the kitchens, close to the hearth so they would dry faster. She had to retrieve them before anyone else saw them, and then get out to the stables before her mother and Jolie returned to the big house.

“Now, Miss Leigh, you know I’m not goin’ to let you leave this house till you’ve eaten a proper breakfast. What would Miss Beatrice Amelia say? An’ my papa?
Mon Dieu!
That’s what he’d say if he was alive today, Miss Leigh, an’ I don’t want to disturb his restin’ peaceful. An’ I know if I let you sashay out of here with a couple of sweet rolls you’d be feedin’ those two beasts of yers instead. An’ don’t look at me like that with those big blue eyes, Miss Leigh, ’cause I’ve already seen you swipe two apples from the table when you thought I wasn’t lookin’. Took me near an hour to arrange that so pretty like,” he mildly rebuked her as he stared at the silver epergne with its lovely arrangement of fruit.

“You’ve been playin’ possum, Stephen, but you’re as wily as a fox. And you haven’t slowed down that much yet that you can’t still catch me,” Leigh said with a laugh, for she and Stephen had been playing their sleight of hand game since she’d been a child.

“It’s not that I’m fast, Miss Leigh, I’m just experienced where this family is concerned,” he said, his eyes crinkling around the corners when he smiled.

Taking the two apples out of her pocket, Leigh shined them on her skirt before she replaced them. Unfortunately, she knocked a couple of cherries onto the fine damask tablecloth when she tried to squeeze the apples into the silver dish already crowded with bright red strawberries. But she quickly caught the errant cherries before they rolled onto the rug and tucked them in beside a clump of dewy grapes artistically draped to dangle just above a grouping of blushing peaches and dark purple plums that were arranged around a pineapple in the center.

Stephen stood silent for a moment, then nodded as he angled the grapes in his masterpiece more to his satisfaction. “Now, we’ve got some nice baked eggs, just the way Miss Althea loves them with her buttered toast an’ marmalade. I don’t know, but I’ve been thinkin’ she doesn’t have too much of an appetite in the mornin’s anymore, so maybe she’s goin’ to give Mister Nathan a son this time. Been real worried, her not givin’ him more than one child. One of these days real soon they might be movin’ back to Royal Bay. Doesn’t seem to me that Mister Noble is his ol’ self anymore. Came callin’ the other day in a carriage, Miss Leigh,” he said, shaking his head. “Could just as easily have been a hearse the way Mister Noble was sittin’ there all stiff like. Never thought he’d get himself down out of that carriage, what with Miss Effie tryin’ to help an’ pushin’ him first this way an’ then the other way an’ cluckin’ over him like a mother hen. An’ I don’t see those folks of his gettin’ that Mister Adam to do anything proper when the time comes.

“You like yer eggs scrambled nice an’ fluffy, Miss Leigh, so we have them that way. An’ we’ve apple fritters, fried potatoes, an’ bacon slices fer Mister Guy. He’ll be hungry ’cause he’s been talkin’ ’bout ridin’ over to the Canbys, though, he just might be walkin’ this mornin’ so we’d better fill that boy up. Those Canbys, ’specially one in particular, will be pleased to see him even if he is all hot an’ dusty,” Stephen predicted with a wide grin as he imagined the young gentleman giving his short legs a little stretch down the road.

Leigh shook her head in disgust. “I just hope Guy is smarter than he acts at times. He always manages to worm his way out of trouble. But if he thinks he can sweet-talk one of the Canbys and not get caught, with the rest of the Canbys falling over each other listening outside the parlor door, then he’s more of a fool than we all think he is. One of these days he is going to meet his match, and then the lady he’s been smiling so sweetly at and making promises to that he has no intention of keeping will have his ring on her finger and one through his nose. Or she might even have the intelligence to have nothing to do with my handsome, insensitive brother. He thinks he can have any girl in the county eating out of the palm of his hand, then slap her away when she becomes too demanding. It would certainly destroy his self-esteem to be spurned by the lady of his affections. But until then, it wouldn’t hurt if he had longer legs, then he could outrun Sarette Canby, because she won’t lose her chance to catch Guy.”

“That Miss Sarette sure is a mighty healthy lookin’ young miss. Bet she puts away a real good breakfast each mornin’,” Stephen said.

“I just hope you won’t have to serve her breakfast each morning, and I won’t have to sit across the breakfast table from a sister-in-law I detest, and who detests me even more. She has probably already packed her bags, ready to move into Travers Hill, now that Stuart James has Willow Creek and Papa is hoping Guy will want to run the farm. She’d have poor Mama and Papa off visiting distant relatives in England. And since I am unwed, she would have me working my fingers to the bone doing all of the sewing for her menfolk. And she would probably try to marry poor little Lucy off to that brother of hers. She knows I’ll have nothing to do with him. I’ve never seen anyone sit a horse as poorly as John Roy. And I’ve never seen Sarette on horseback at all. She sits over there at Evergreens like a fat tabby, just waiting to sink her claws into Guy, and other unsuspecting folk.”

“There’s no Canbys, nor other folk, ’ceptin’ fer the Braedons, good enough fer the Travers family,” Stephen said, and they both knew he included Stuart James’s wife, Thisbe, among those not so privileged.

“I suspect there aren’t enough good folk left who’d dare take on the whole family,” Leigh retorted, thinking of the wild stories that went the rounds at every racing meet, barbecue, and fish fry about what Stuart Travers and his family had outraged the county by doing this time.

“I have no worries as long as Jolie is here watchin’ out fer this family. Nothin’s goin’ to happen that shouldn’t. Leastways, it’s not goin’ to be something I’m expectin’, since I know this family an’ how to keep most of them out of trouble,” Stephen said with a warning glint in his eye.

“Now, we’ve got some fried oysters an’ spoon bread here fer Mister Nathan,” he said, lifting the lid to another chafing dish. “Said he wanted to ride out with Mister Stuart to the sawmill this mornin’. How about some of this panfried ham an’ redeye gravy, just the way yer papa likes it. I’ll fix you up a plate of it, Miss Leigh, with a little helpin’ of grits, pipin’ hot, an’ some biscuits fer soppin’. Hmmm, fergot the mint,” he said with a startled expression on his face. “I’ve never done that before,” he muttered. “Better get some before Mister Stuart gets up. He does like my juleps, an’ if he’s got to ride out this mornin’ he’ll be needin’ somethin’ coolin’. Sun’s hardly shown his ol’ face an’ it’s already hotter ’n yesterday noon. Made up a batch of punch earlier, but I better bring up another couple of bottles of brandy from the cellar, ’cause Mister Nathan said Mister Adam might ride over to escort them back to Royal Bay, an’ he might have some of his gentlemen friends with him,” Stephen added as an afterthought as he eyed the crystal decanters of wine, Madeira, sack, and stronger spirits that were grouped together at one end of the sideboard. A big silver coffeepot and teapot on a matching silver tray, a hot water jug on a lampstand, a short, stocky porcelain pot for hot chocolate, and stacks of cups and saucers were crowded together at the other end of the sideboard.

“Now, I know you like waffles, just like Miss Lucy. An’ I’ve some maple syrup fer you, ’cause you don’t like that sorghum. Colonel Leigh always had sorghum on his biscuits. He was a good man, yer gran’papa. Real glad he let ol’ Jolie come out to Travers Hill with me. How ’bout some blueberry batter cakes? Jolie said we have to have them fer Miss Noelle. That sweet little gal does like them so. Jolie was fit to be tied, ’cause yer mama didn’t have time to eat any of this omelette. It’s plumb full of mushrooms, with plenty of that spicy sauce on it. It was yer Gran’mama Leigh’s favorite. She was a fine lady. Never heard her raise her voice even once. Not even when the colonel was shot in that duel. Never seen so much blood comin’ out of a body, an’ the colonel, he wasn’t all that big a man. Thought fer sure the colonel was goin’ to meet his maker that night. But Miss Louise tells him he’s goin’ nowhere till she finds out why he was duelin’ with that no-good Creole fella. Made her so mad him duelin’ with a fella who wasn’t a gentleman. Nearly got himself killed fer no reason. A gentleman doesn’t dirty his hands with trash. So she kept the colonel talkin’ an’ explainin’ himself the whole night so he never had time to up an’ die.

“An’ we’ve sweet raisin bread an’ sausages, just in case Mister Palmer William arrives earlier than expected. Got more in the kitchens if he’s brought home some of his friends again. An’ we’ve some yams left over from last night, an’ some chicken hash, an’…”

Patiently, Leigh watched Stephen making his way along the sideboard. Dressed in the hunter green livery he wore with such pride, she knew it would be useless to say anything, because he would just continue from the place where he’d been interrupted. “All right, you win, Stephen,” she said when he finally paused to catch his breath. Glancing at the clock on the mantel she was surprised at the hour, and if she was delayed any longer, then the rest of the family would be arriving and she would never get away—and certainly not without an explanation.

“Now, you sip this tomato juice while I get you a warm plate an’ serve you up something tasty, Miss Leigh. We’ve got to put a little flesh on those bones,” Stephen said with a stern look in his dark eyes as he eyed the pale slenderness of her arm. “Got to fatten you up like Miss Julia. She’s a plump little miss. Should be married with a couple of little ones by now,” he said, adding another spoonful of egg to the plate he’d taken from the serving table and was now filling with special care.

Leigh was glad Julia wasn’t sitting at the table to hear Stephen’s opinion, even if a complimentary one in his eyes, for it would have ruined her appetite and then she would have been grumpy until luncheon. Everything had worked out perfectly, Leigh thought, blessing Jassy for eating too much catfish the night before. But she conveniently forgot about the thunder and Jolie’s premonitions of disaster, thinking she wouldn’t have to worry now about getting away from Jolie, or having to explain her early rising to her mother. And Stephen thought she was going down to the stables to help Sweet John with Rambler—not knowing that she’d been down there the night before—so there would be no questions about her disappearance at breakfast when the rest of her family came down. Now, all she had to do was find the buckskins, and with the leather pouch she’d retrieved from the blanket chest and distastefully tied around her waist when putting on her petticoat, she’d ride back to the pond and return the stranger’s property to him—although not in person. She would prefer not having to take a groom with her. She rode faster when alone. But Sweet John would be no problem, Leigh was thinking with a slight smile curving her lips as she formulated her next plan of action.

Lost in her preoccupation, she wasn’t aware that she had been served breakfast until she glanced down at the plate Stephen had just placed before her.