When the Splendor Falls (28 page)

Leigh kissed his thin cheek. “I happen to like him too, and if he can indeed keep his patience with Aunt Maribel Lu, then he is a man of uncommon goodness.”

“Good,” Stuart James said, sounding almost relieved. “I’m glad you said that rather than that you thought yourself head over heels in love with him.”

“Why?” Leigh demanded, puzzled. “Is that not the way it should be?” she questioned, wondering why she had not said “love” when speaking of Matthew, and yet…when she remembered a pair of pale gray-green eyes, she felt her heartbeat quicken, the way everyone said it would when you were in love. But then she found herself remembering Althea’s words of warning about knowing the difference between infatuation and true love.

“One day, you might suddenly find yourself not in love with that person you thought you could not live without, and you begin to wonder if you ever were truly in love with them. Then, much to your disbelief, you discover that you do not even like that person, that you have nothing to discuss, hardly any civility to exchange, and that is when your life can become rather a nightmare,” he said, running a nervous hand through his hair. “That is why I am so pleased that you and Matthew are such good friends, and you have so much in common—your backgrounds, your love of horses, your sense of honor and duty. Believe me, dear, when I say that will become the cornerstone of your marriage. And I suspect, that if you do not love him now, you will come to love him, and if you should never come to love him, then you will still be on friendly terms. You will have a splendid marriage, just like Althea and Nathan. She was fortunate. Love
and
friendship in her marriage. Of course, I’ve never known Althea to do anything that wasn’t right and proper. Nathan’s a fine man. But then I’ve always thought the womenfolk of the Travers family are the brightest of the lot of us.”

“Is everything all right, Stuart?” Leigh asked, knowing that all was not well between him and Thisbe. She glanced up at the veranda, where she knew Thisbe was sitting, surrounded by the usual group of gossiping women and admiring gentlemen.

“Of course; what could be amiss?” Stuart James replied, since he was not one to confide, even with family, for although he bore little physical resemblance to their father, and acted even less like a Travers, he had inherited one very important characteristic from their father, and that was the Travers pride.

“My wife is one of the most beautiful women in the Tidewater. We are never without invitations to one party or another. I’ve two charming children. Our home is much admired by all who visit, and there has never been a more gracious hostess than Thisbe, loving wife and mother, and mistress of Willow Creek Landing. And after this harvest, I should be a very successful planter, and more than able to keep my wife in the manner in which she has all too quickly become accustomed,” he added, and Leigh had never heard such a cold hollowness in her brother’s voice before.

“A good crop this year? That is wonderful news, Stuart.”

“Yes, I think Father will be quite pleased, and surprised.”

“Not all that surprised.”

“You were just now. After the last couple of disastrous years, and having lost all of the money he has poured into Willow Creek, I will now be able to pay him back in full. And I will see that he has a tidy profit to show for his investment, and for his faith in me.”

“He will be so proud of you,” Leigh told him quickly, hoping their father would be.

Stuart James shrugged. “That would be nice for a change. I’m afraid I’ve seldom given him reason. It was Guy who managed to become the lawyer, not me, and I studied far harder. And I’ve never been good with horses, not like you and Guy. And that is how Father judges a man’s merit, how good his seat is. Horses are his life. For me, a horse is in my stable so I may ride from here to there, and be pulled along in my carriage in complete comfort with my family around me. Is that too wrong of me?”

“Of course not.”

Stuart James grinned. “You never think ill of anyone, especially family, and we take advantage of you, I fear. Do you know, I’ve often believed Father thinks more of Sweet John than of me, and he is more of a son to him than I am,” he said. “But this is my chance, Leigh, to prove to him that I can succeed at something. That I’m not a complete fool.”

“You don’t have to prove anything of the kind,” Leigh told him, seeing for the first time some of the despair that Stuart James had hidden behind his quiet demeanor all of these years.

“I love life down there in the Tidewater. It is so peaceful. I take my boat out and just drift on the tide sometimes, especially at sunset when the sky looks like it is on fire. I’ve even set up an easel on the bank and tried to paint it once or twice,” he confessed with a sheepish look. “Our secret,” he admonished. “Well, it’ll be getting dark soon,” Stuart James said, sighing as he glanced toward the veranda for a moment, knowing they must rejoin the others. “When Matthew stayed over, while waiting to accompany us here, he spoke quite knowledgeably of tobacco. In fact, Leigh, he has bidded most handsomely, generously, in fact, for Willow Creek’s biggest crop yet. He has a warehouse in the Carolinas, and he ships to England through his own company. He has sent down one of his finest managers to advise us on the next planting. Naturally he wants the best if we are to become partners,” Stuart James confided, his brown eyes showing some of the old warmth and enthusiasm that used to brighten them. “He is a brilliant businessman in his own right, not just living off what he inherited, so I believe I shall profit greatly from our arrangement. And what better, Leigh, than to be in business with your brother-in-law?”

“Yes, what better,” Leigh murmured.

“You and Matthew will be able to visit us at Willow Creek quite a lot in future, and I’ll even take you drifting down the river.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Now, hadn’t I better get you back up to the house so you can start your preparations for the big party?” he asked, tucking her hand in his as they turned and began to walk along the lane. “Jolie will be on the warpath looking for you.”

“Blythe was thrilled with the green velvet cloak Thisbe gave her as a present. Mama was certainly impressed by its quality. It is quite expensive with the fur lining. Is it really ermine?”

“Yes, our Thisbe never buys anything but the best.” Stuart James smiled just slightly, for only he knew Thisbe had ordered the cloak for herself but, upon delivery, had decided the dark green color too unbecoming. Never worn, it had been folded away in the box it’d come in, and left forgotten for nearly two years, until Thisbe had declared it the perfect gift for Blythe.

“Blythe was happiest with your gift to her. It was very thoughtful of you to give her Grandmama Palmer’s garnet ring,” she added, remembering Blythe’s excitement that morning when she’d slipped it on her finger when the family had gathered together privately for their gift-giving.

“I wanted her to have something very special for her sixteenth birthday. When I inherited Willow Creek, I also received many of the family heirlooms. Although not one of the more expensive pieces, Thisbe has those, I understand that ring was one of Grandmama Palmer’s favorites. That reminds me, I had a nice long talk with Palmer William last night.”

“He is looking well, isn’t he,” Leigh said.

“Yes, he was well named, since he inherited Grandpapa Palmer’s height. There is a portrait of him at Willow Creek, and Palmer has a look of the old gentleman about him. Did you know he is definitely planning a career in the army?”

“No, I didn’t. Oh, dear, I don’t think that will please Mama at all,” Leigh said, seeing again her mother’s tearful cries when Palmer, standing taller and broader than she remembered, had swept their mother up into his arms, her feet lifted clear off the floor when he’d greeted her with a suffocating bear hug. The rest of the evening their mother had fussed over him, complaining that he wasn’t eating enough and that he was spending far too much time out in the sun, and reminding him how delicate his skin was. But Palmer had laughed away her concerns with masculine disdain, and with a new deepness to his voice had claimed he ate far too much, having had to have all of his uniforms let out in the shoulders and waist, and that precision drills on horseback had him tanned darker than a pecan and feeling fit as a fiddle.

They reached the veranda, and Leigh stood for several minutes with Stuart James, politely returning greetings and casual remarks, her gaze resting momentarily on Thisbe’s silvery head bent close to another’s in private conversation, her tinkling laughter sounding slightly malicious to Leigh’s sensitive ear. Which, the night before, had burned from overhearing the abusive language that had flowed between Stuart James and his wife when in the privacy of their room next door to hers and Blythe’s.

Burying her head beneath her pillow, she had cringed to think such words could be exchanged between two people who loved one another, who were man and wife, for although her own parents often argued, their arguments never had the vicious edge she’d heard in Thisbe’s and Stuart James’s conversation.

Glancing between them now, Leigh remembered Stuart James’s words of advice, and she realized he’d spoken of his own marriage, and had been warning her not to make the same mistake he had. He and Thisbe were no longer in love, and it was painfully obvious that they disliked one another. As Leigh watched, Thisbe glanced up into the handsome face of one of her gentlemen admirers, the intimate look they exchanged causing Leigh to look away in embarrassment, and to hope Stuart hadn’t seen it.

Excusing herself, Leigh made her way indoors. It was nearly an hour later when she finally reached the quiet haven of her bedchamber, having been stopped numerous times and held in conversation by friendly, well-meaning gossips, by neighbors hungry for the latest news, by second and third cousins eager to share theirs, and by gentlemen too eager to impress, most having heard the disturbing rumor that Leigh Travers was to wed Matthew Wycliffe. Closing the door firmly behind her, she leaned against it and glanced around the empty room. Spread out across half the bed was Blythe’s pale green silk gown with its rows of ruffles trimmed with Brussels lace cascading down the skirt. A deep fall of matching lace adorned the puffed sleeves and a delicate frill tucked along the bodice raised the décolletage enough to maintain a young woman’s modesty. A pair of pale green silk slippers with satin rosettes and ribbons was waiting to be slipped onto her dancing feet. In fact, Blythe’s feet had hardly touched the ground since morning, when she’d opened the gift left for her by Althea, the emerald-green perfume bottle with its etched stars, causing her to squeal with delight and dance around the room. Her treasure was now sitting on the dressing table next to the sapphire-blue perfume bottle and the set of a silver-backed brush, comb, and hand mirror entwined with her initials, which had been the gift from their parents. And Leigh’s own gift, a pair of pearl drop earrings, to match the pearl necklace given to Blythe by their Aunt Maribel Lu, would adorn her small ears this eve.

Smiling with pleasure, Leigh admired the voluminous skirts of her own ball gown, which were spread out over the other half of the bed. She touched the diaphanous tarlatan that was flounced over a slightly darker shade of apricot silk. The scalloped edges of each flounce had been intricately woven with golden threads and tiny beads that would shimmer and sparkle with each step she took around the dance floor in matching silk slippers, and a feather fan dyed in gradually darkening shades of apricot and sprinkled with gold dust would dangle by a velvet ribbon from her wrist. Layers and layers of stiffened, ruffled petticoats were piled high on the pillows, and balanced precariously on top, the fine lawn chemisettes and pantalettes, silk-spun stockings, lacy, beribboned garters, and elbow-length gloves that she and Blythe would soon be dressed in.

Picking up Blythe’s new mirror, Leigh stared at her reflection critically, wondering at Jolie’s decision to braid her hair into a double-rowed coronet, and weaving it with fragrant, star-shaped blossoms of white jessamine, apricot-hued rosebuds tinged with gold, and a spray of dark blue forget-me-nots over each ear. She hoped it would not be too severe a coiffure, but Jolie had been adamant. Julia had boasted that she was having her golden curls styled in the latest Parisian fashion, while Blythe was to have her dark hair pulled into a sophisticated chignon arranged high on her head, with several curls dangling over each ear and graced by a white camellia, and across the crown, a delicate tiara of a single, pale green velvet ribbon sewn with pearls.

Blythe would look like a princess tonight, Leigh thought, hoping her dreams would come true and Justin Braedon would ask her to partner him in more than one dance. She would be able to flirt with him from behind the ivory
brisé
fan that had been Palmer William’s gift to her, and if she stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Justin Braedon could place across her slender, bare shoulders the muslin evening shawl edged in Chantilly lace that Guy had given her for her birthday. When Justin had arrived with Palmer, staying only long enough to have luncheon with them, Blythe’s wide-eyed gaze had seldom left him, although apparently her ability to speak had, for Leigh had never seen her so tongue-tied and shy, bobbing her head up and down in answer to every question. At the thought of Justin, who looked remarkably like his half brother, although in temperament he was nothing like him, being a complete gentleman, Leigh felt her breath catch slightly. Tonight she would see Neil Braedon. He was one of the invited guests to Blythe’s birthday party, and he would be accompanying the other Braedons when they arrived from Royal Bay.

Leigh walked over to the window and gazed down on the gardens below, not seeing the deepening shadows, or feeling the cooling breeze that played in the light folds of the curtains as she fiddled nervously with the delicate gold ring in her earlobe. Neil might even ask her to partner him tonight in a dance. And if he did, then she would very politely decline the honor, proving to him, and to herself, how little she cared about him.