Beneath the Black Moon (Root Sisters) (21 page)

“They
bed anything that moves, I’m sorry to say,” Mr. Hadley said, though he didn’t
look particularly sorry. His cheeks were ruddy from the wine and there was a
vindictive gleam in his eyes.

Brent’s
wineglass trembled slightly in his hand as he struggled to keep his temper in
check, reminding himself that he was here for answers, and that it would be
difficult to get answers out of Mr. Hadley if he leaned across the table and
throttled the man until he choked to death.

“It’s
not their fault, though,” Hadley said, taking another swig from his alcohol.
“They got it from their mother, naturally.”

Brent
put his wineglass down before it cracked. The more time he spent with Cam, the
more he realized how painful all the talk about her mother had to be. She had
few memories of Solange, but tall tales abounded, all painting Solange as a
wild woman and a harlot.

“What
a mistake that was for Henry Johnson,” Hadley continued. “I mean, I can see why
he married her, she was lovely. Not as beautiful as her eldest daughter . . .
speaking of harlots. The spitting image of the middle one…” He tilted his head
back, probably trying to remember the name of Solange’s second daughter, and
Brent hoped that it continued to elude him. He was already having a hard enough
time resisting the urge to slam Hadley’s face into the table, and if the man
dared to say Cam’s name, all bets were off.

“But
very pretty,” Hadley said after a moment, obviously still unable to remember
Cam’s name. “Not at all suited to being the wife of a gentleman. She couldn’t
seem to control herself. She’d go for a walk with any man who winked at her.
Well, almost any,” he added, guzzling a little more wine. Brent caught a
glimmer of thwarted lust in the man’s eyes, and suddenly understood the source
of Hadley’s resentment towards Solange. Whether Solange had bedded one man or a
thousand, Hadley had not been among her paramours.

So
you spread tales about a dead woman and torment her daughters in the process
,
Brent thought, glaring at the inebriated man across from him.

“I’m
still convinced that’s how she died.” Hadley had finally come up for air. “You
know there was a slave in the carriage house with her when the fire started.
Have you ever wondered what they were doing together in the carriage house?”

A
muscle in Brent’s jaw jumped. “From what I understood, Sam saw the fire and ran
in to save Solange.” Brent very much hoped that he was wrong about what Hadley
was suggesting.

“Oh
well, that’s what they’d
say
, isn’t it? But if you ask me Solange and
the slave were rolling around in the hay and knocked the lamp over… Of course,
now that she’s dead no one wants to admit it. You’d think she was a saint.”

That
was it. Pushing thoughts of his mission out of his mind, Brent knocked his
chair over in his haste to stand. He was going to slam Hadley’s face into the
table until the man couldn’t see. He was going to…

“But
that’s what happens when someone dies. It’s the same with the Varennes flirt.
That woman was after every man but her husband. Does anyone ever talk about it?
Have you ever heard anyone discuss that fight that she and Solange had? No….
What are you doing?”
Brent had grabbed Hadley by the shoulders, intent on beating the man senseless,
but paused at the mention of Katherine Varennes’ name.

He
gave the man a vicious shake instead, relishing the way that Hadley’s head
whipped back and forth. “What was that about Mrs. Varennes?”

The
man groaned. “They had an argument. Release me! The world’s spinning as it is…”
He did look a little nauseous, so Brent reluctantly released him, not bothering
to keep his revulsion from his face. Hadley was too drunk to notice.

“What
argument? Tell me about this argument.”

***

Eight
days after Cam’s drowning, Aunt Beth finally deemed her well enough to attend
the party at the McPherson plantation. Helen and Diana were also going. Diana
didn’t usually go out, but the McPhersons were old friends, and it was a small
party. It was the first gathering Diana had attended in almost three months.

It
was also the first party that Cam had ever been eager to attend. She wanted to
go because Brent would be there, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to thank
him for saving her life yet.

But
when they met each other in the McPherson garden Brent didn’t seem to want to
discuss what had happened beside the creek. She felt his gaze sweep over her
once, thoroughly, as if he wanted to be certain that she was definitely well.
Then, before she could thank him, he spoke.

 “You
didn’t tell me that your mother and Katherine Varennes were enemies.”

Cam
felt as though he’d hit her in the stomach. “What? What did you say?”

“I
said, you never told me that Mrs. Varennes and your mother were rivals.”

“Who
have you been talking to?” Cam asked, faking calm, trying to stall him until
she could think of a suitable response.

“What
difference does it make?” He said.

“It
makes a great deal of difference,” Cam told him, still stalling.

“Tell
me about the fire, Cam.” Brent said, practically growling her name. “Tell me
again whether it was an accident or not.”

“Why
are you doing this to me?” Cam asked. He had never been quite this aggressive
before, and the expression on his face was almost hard.

“Because
your secrets are dangerous, Cam. A danger to you and everyone around you.”

“So
don’t be around me,” Cam said, unable to keep the hurt from her voice. Her
heart was pounding, thumping to the rhythm of
he knows he knows he knows
.

“Oh?
And what would have happened to you last week if I hadn’t been there?”

“That
won’t happen again,” Cam said. Caro and Grandma had outfitted her with a charm
powerful enough to protect seven people.

“Damn
right it won’t. I can’t live through that again, Cam. I wouldn’t survive it.”
Brent was close to shouting. “Whatever is going on has to be stopped. You have
to tell me what you know.”

He
was acting wild, yet somewhere beneath his husky voice and the fury in his eyes
Cam thought she could hear an echo of terror. Had he been frightened when he
found her drowned? Cam tried to imagine if the situation had been reversed and
realized that she would have been beside herself if she had been in his shoes.

“Cam!”
Cam whirled, afraid that someone had heard them, and Diana stood behind her. “I
heard shouting,” she said, staring at Brent like he was something stuck to the bottom
of her shoe. Cam opened her mouth to explain and found that she didn’t know
what to say. “Go wait in the carriage,” Diana said.

“We
just arrived,” Cam argued.

“And
now we’re leaving,”

“Like
hell,” Brent said.  He reached for Cam but she dodged his arms, backing up
towards her sister.

“None
of this is his fault,” she told Diana, before turning to go.

“Cam!”
Brent called, but he didn’t follow her as she walked back to the carriage.

***

Diana
faced Brent, and the frost in her voice matched the ice in her eyes. “You won’t
go near her again.” She was much like her sister, except that while Cam glowed
with life, Diana was like a statue. She was cold and unfeeling, but with a face
that could only have been fashioned by the most masterful of artists.

Brent
had never shoved a woman aside in his life, but he was sorely tempted to as he
faced Diana Johnson. She certainly wasn’t going to move on her own. He could
see in the set of her jaw that she would throw herself in the path of a train
before she would allow him access to her little sister.

“I
have done nothing to harm Cam,” he told her, trying to hide his indignation at
having to explain anything to her. This was entirely between him and Cam, and
it felt like an invasion of their privacy to have to discuss it with her icy
sister.

“That
is debatable,” she told him flatly.

He
shifted so that she wouldn’t see his hands clenching. He was usually so good at
staying calm, but Cam had wound him up like a child’s toy and now Diana was
regarding him with the cool gaze of a woman who resented most men and trusted
none of them. He needed to be level-headed, but instead he felt half-mad. “I
have no reason to hurt her.”

“And
that is a lie.” Diana said coldly.

“What’s
happened?” Helen Johnson appeared, slightly out of breath. “Is something
wrong?” She wasn’t like her older sisters; she couldn’t hide her feelings as well
and there was real fear in her eyes. “Where’s Cam?”

“She’s
fine,” Diana said, “but we are leaving.”

Helen’s
gaze fixed on Brent, and her expression also turned chilly. “I see,” she said,
coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Diana.

Brent
bit back a curse. Everyone in Cam’s family appeared to have marked him as the
enemy. He hoped that at least her matchmaking aunt was still on his side. Damn
it. If there had been two men between him and Cam he would have flung them
aside without a second thought, but with her two sisters staring him down, all
he could do was stand and wilt under the combined stares of two pairs of
near-black eyes.

He
took a deep breath and decided to try again. “You don’t understand,” he began.

“Oh,
I assure you,” Diana said. “I do.” She took her sister’s arm, and they turned
and started toward the carriage. Brent decided not to press the issue right
now, but he wasn’t about to give in, either.

 “I
will visit Cam tomorrow,” he called after them.

Diana
turned back to fix him with her black gaze. “Try it.” She said simply. Brent
had no doubt that she would do anything she could to keep him from Cam.

But
the tricky part, he thought with a smile, would be keeping Cam away from him.

***

“He
won’t bother you again,” Diana told Cam as their carriage rolled down the lane.

Cam
nodded, but when she turned to peer out of the back of the carriage, she could
see Brent standing by the road, staring after them. He didn’t look particularly
discouraged. In fact, there was a confident smile playing on the corners of his
lips, and his shoulders were squared as if he was ready to face anything. The
worst thing was that Cam didn’t really want him to leave and never bother her
again. She hated spending a day away from him; she couldn’t even imagine what a
lifetime alone would be like. “What an awful mess,” she whispered.

Diana
turned sharply to stare at her sister, and Helen reached for Cam’s hand reassuringly,
but neither of them said anything as they journeyed home.

***

Cam
had prepared herself for all manner of distress and disaster, but never in her
wildest dreams would she have anticipated her aunt’s reaction to the news of her
argument with Brent.

Cam
had just stepped into the kitchen to report the latest developments to her
grandmother when Elizabeth followed her inside.

“Mrs.
Laverne told me what happened at the McPherson party,” she told Cam, pressing
her lips together as though she was trying to control some intense emotion. “She
said that you and Mr. Anderson had some sort of disagreement, and that you and
your sisters left suddenly. ‘Shunned him,’ was how she phrased it.”

Cam
nodded silently.

“Well?”
Aunt Beth said, blinking rapidly.

“Well
what?” Cam asked. She was already unnerved by her experience with Brent, and
she didn’t have the energy to appease her Aunt Beth as well.

“What
did he do? I’m assuming that there was some grave insult given for you to treat
him so badly. Given that he is, after all, the most eligible bachelor in the
county, as well as the man who saved your life.” Trust Aunt Beth to list his
eligibility before the fact that he had saved Cam’s life.

“He
didn’t do anything,” Cam said. “We just had a disagreement.”

“About?”
Aunt Beth asked, gesticulating in a manner that was most uncharacteristic.

“It’s…
private,” Cam said finally. She was far too tired to be having this
conversation.

“I
see.” Elizabeth said. “So you don’t want to discuss it?

Cam
shook her head.

“I
see,” Elizabeth said quietly. “
I see
.” She said again, this time louder.
“I SEE!” She yelled, bringing her fist down on the kitchen table.

Cam
flinched, exchanging a shocked glance with her grandmother, whose eyes were the
size of saucers.

“What’s
wrong with this one, Cam? I’ve realized by now that ninety-nine out of every
hundred people in the county don’t meet your standards, but this one seemed to
be doing better than most, so I think I have a right to know what exactly it is
about the most perfect man in the county that doesn’t appeal to you. Is he too
good-looking? Too intelligent? Would you prefer a man twice your age? Perhaps
it’s his wealth that doesn’t appeal to you. Tell me Cam— the suspense is
killing
me.”