Bride in Barbados (11 page)

Her exploration complete, she went back upstairs for the
car keys and her purse, stopping in the kitchen on her way out to tell
Mala that she wouldn't want any lunch after the hearty breakfast she'd
had. If she felt hungry later, she'd get something in town.

She drove into Bridgetown in the sports car, giving her
undivided attention to staying on the left side of the road and
wondering how long it would be before that became second nature to her.
Not long, she hoped, for she wanted to explore the entire island in the
coming days.

The capital was bustling with traffic that crawled along
the narrow streets and throngs of pedestrians on the sidewalks. From
the fresh sunburns and vacation clothing they wore, Susan guessed that
a good percentage of the shoppers were tourists. She found a parking
space near Lord Nelson's statue and dashed across the street to meander
along the main thoroughfare, window shopping and occasionally going
into an establishment that looked interesting.

She spent a half hour in a bookstore where she finally
bought a volume on the history of Barbados and another dealing strictly
with Bridgetown. She wanted to learn all she could about the island.

Just after noon, she stopped in a drugstore for iced tea,
looking through one of the books she'd purchased while she drank it and
rested a bit.

She smiled as she read the author's statement that the
first institution the English always established in a new colony was a
drinking house, in contrast to the Spaniards, who always began with a
church building and the Dutch, who always started by erecting a fort.
However, Bridgetown's British settlers had built a church, St.
Michael's, in 1630, and now there was a newer church on the same site
called St. Mary's. Since it was only two blocks from where she sat, she
decided to have a look at it.

The church was large and built of gray stone. There was
some construction in progress, perhaps merely restoration work, so
Susan decided not to go inside. She wandered about the old churchyard
for a while, trying to make out the faded carving on the markers.

Finally she headed back along Broad Street toward where
she had left the car. About halfway to her destination, the scroll
lettering on a sign hanging over one of the shops caught her eye:
"Kay's Boutique." Deciding that it had to be the shop operated by
Travis's friend, Kay Harte, she went inside.

At the back, a petite black-haired woman, wearing a cool,
white shirtwaist dress, was waiting on a customer. Susan browsed
through a rack of dresses until the customer had paid for her purchases
and left. As she walked over to the counter, the black-haired woman
looked up and smiled. She wasn't pretty, but she had an open, pleasant
face and was meticulously groomed with every smooth black hair in place.

"Hello. May I help you?"

"I'm looking for Kay Harte."

"You've found her." She was still smiling at Susan
expectantly.

Susan extended her hand. "I'm Susan Sennett, Travis's
wife."

Although she knew there hadn't been time for word to get
around about Travis's marriage, she wasn't quite prepared for Kay
Harte's extreme reaction. The blood left her face in a rush and her
brown eyes seemed about to pop from her head for a moment. When she
recovered she shook hands, her fingers clammy and cold.

"Forgive me, but you've really shocked me."

Susan laughed. "I can see that."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Susan."

"Thank you. Travis mentioned that he particularly wanted
me to get to know you. I hope we'll be close friends."

There was a pained look in Kay Harte's eyes as she said,
"So do I." It came to Susan in a flash that the woman was in love with
Travis.

"I'm not having many customers today," Kay was saying.
"Let me make us a cup of tea."

"That would be very nice." Susan followed her to a small
office in the back and took a chair while Kay put a pot of water on a
hotplate and readied tea bags in two cups. After she had made the tea
and handed Susan hers, she sat down behind the desk.

"Where are you from?"

"I was living in Miami until yesterday."

"I knew that Travis had gone to Miami to consult his
lawyer, but obviously the trip wasn't strictly for business." She set
her cup down and shook her head. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm
still a little stunned by this. How long have you known Travis?"

Everybody she met here seemed to ask that question, Susan
thought. For some reason, she wanted to evade a direct answer with Kay
Harte. "Not extremely long. You know how it is. Sometimes you meet that
rare individual and, in a short period of time, you feel as though you
know him as well as you know yourself. Perhaps it has to do with wave
lengths."

"Uh-huh," Kay murmured, "I suppose."

"Anyway, I've never been so happy in my life, and I'm sure
I'm going to love Barbados." Then she added seriously, "I know that you
and Travis have always been close friends. I want you to know that I'm
going to be a good wife to him. He's happy, and I intend to keep him
that way."

"As Travis's friend, I only want what's best for him. I'm
glad that he's happy. Aside from having acquired a very lovely wife, he
must have had hopeful news from his attorney about having his
grandfather's will declared invalid."

Susan's lashes came down to veil the fact that Kay's
remark had left her completely at sea. "Yes," she murmured. "I don't
think there was anything definite, but you know how legal matters drag
on forever."

Kay was watching her intently. Then they heard the faint
sound of a bell tinkling and she made a face. "I have a customer.
Excuse me, please."

Susan set her tea aside and got to her feet. "I won't take
up any more of your time. I just wanted to stop and say hello."

"I'm awfully glad you did. I hope we'll be seeing each
other again soon."

Susan mumbled an agreement, followed the other woman out
of the office, said good-bye and left the shop. She walked toward the
car, her curiosity awakened. Both Kay and Violet had mentioned that
will. She had thought that Travis was well satisfied with inheriting
the plantation and his grandfather's interest in the bank. But if he
had seen his lawyer about breaking the will, he apparently wasn't.
Maybe that's what he and Curt had disagreed over last night, instead of
whether Curt and Violet would move to a hotel, as she had assumed.

Susan dressed for dinner with care that evening. It would
be the first meal she and Travis had shared alone since their arrival,
and she had asked Mala to set up a table on the back veranda. She was
wearing a deep-aqua silk dress with a halter top, bared back and full
skirt. A silver necklace with a turquoise drop and small turquoise
earrings complemented the dress perfectly. Her hair fell in loose waves
about her face without combs or fasteners to impede it, because Travis
liked it that way.

Travis came out of the bathroom wearing a terry robe. She
had hardly seen him when he came in from the fields and headed straight
for the shower and, at the sight of his still damp, tousled hair and
the glowing bronze of his skin, her heart seemed to turn over.

He stood still and looked at her. "Hello, wife." His eyes
devoured her as if he couldn't get enough, and she felt warmth rush
through every part of her body. "Come here," he said very softly.

"Nothing doing," she breathed. "As certain as I do, we'll be late for dinner. We're having it on the
veranda and I—I think I'd better go down and see how Mala is
coming along."

"Hard-hearted woman," he growled as she slipped past him
and out the door.

She found both Mala and Amii in the kitchen. "Is there
anything I can do to help?"

Amii, who was stirring something in a pot on the stove,
turned to look at her and giggle. "You're very pretty, Miss Susan."

"Thank you, Amii."

Mala's hands moved deftly over a cutting board. "You stay
here, you get that nice frock stained. You go out and see how you like
the table I fix for you. We makin' a fine feast."

Susan obeyed. The table sat next to the wrought-iron
railing, out of reach of the light coming through the kitchen windows.
But the full moon provided enough light to illuminate an arrangement of
pale wild orchids in the center of a white cloth. Silver glowed with a
soft patina in the moonlight. Susan sighed happily and turned as Mala
appeared with a silver tray, which she set on one of the small patio
tables.

"This special recipe," she told Susan. "Poached oyster
canapés with caviar to go with cocktails. You try."

Susan lifted one of the crisp toast rounds in the center
of which sat an oyster ringed with caviar and sour cream. She nibbled
tentatively, then finished the canapé with a groan of approval. "Mala,
these are delicious! You've outdone yourself."

"You like everything else, too." Her tone was clearly
pleased. "I tell Mistah Travis bring your drink when he come out." With
a rustle of cotton skirts, she returned to the kitchen.

Moments later, Travis appeared, dressed in dark trousers
and an open-collared shirt. He carried two stemmed glasses. "I brought
white wine for you. Is that all right?"

"Perfect," Susan told him, accepting the drink and
standing on tiptoe to kiss him lightly. "Come and try Mala's wonderful
canapés. I told her this was a special occasion, and she's really
pulling out all the stops."

"In a minute." He reached for her with his free hand and
pulled her against him. "After I have a proper kiss," which he
proceeded to claim. As always when he held her, a lovely warmth
uncurled inside her and she relaxed against him, her breasts crushed
against his chest.

When he released her, she sighed reluctantly but took his
hand and led him to two patio chairs near the canapé tray. When they
were seated, she sipped her wine and said, "I guess you know that Curt
and Violet moved to a hotel this morning."

"Yes. I told them we were on our honeymoon and suggested
it would be considerate of them to make themselves scarce."

"I had breakfast with Violet before they left. Honestly,
Travis, I don't understand that woman. Some of the things she said made
no sense at all."

She was aware of a tenseness in him. "Such as?"

"Well—for one thing, when I said that I loved
you, she seemed to think it highly improbable. I'm sure she believes I married you for your money."

He made a sarcastic sound. "Violet would. She thinks every
woman is as mercenary as she is. I feel sorry for that poor fool she
married."

"She told me they're divorced. She also said she doesn't
trust men."

He laughed shortly. "Mr. Graves is well out of it."

"There was something else, Travis," Susan said
thoughtfully. "I got the distinct impression that she and Curt aren't
happy with the way your grandfather's estate was divided. She didn't
say it in so many words, but I had the feeling that they wanted the
plantation. Isn't that odd? They don't strike me as people who would be
content here, so far away from a really cosmopolitan city, like London."

"They wouldn't be," Travis retorted. "If they want the
plantation, it's only for the price it would bring on a sale."

"But didn't you say your grandfather left them a valuable
stock portfolio?"

"Yes, but the bank and plantation made up well over half
the value of the estate. Harris left them to me because I came home two
years ago to manage them for him. More to the point, he knew I'd
continue to operate the plantation after he was gone, keep it in the
family. That was important to him. But Curt and Violet feel they were
cheated."

"I didn't realize…" The unequal division of the
estate accounted for at least some of the animosity between Travis and
his cousins. "Is that why they're here? Do they want you to hand over
part of your share?"

"They'd like nothing better. I give them three years at
the outside to run through those stocks and bonds, and I've no
intention of providing them with another penny. Susan, if either of
them comes around here again, I don't want you to talk to them. They're
troublemakers."

"I don't really want to see them. They make me
feel… uncomfortable."

Mala and Amii began to serve the meal, and they moved to
the table. The main course was a smoked salmon quiche served with crisp
vegetables and wine.

"Tell me something, Mala," Travis teased as he spread his
napkin. "Why is it I have to get married before you'll make my favorite
quiche? We haven't had this in years."

"I los' recipe," Mala said with a mischievous grin that
made her teeth flash white in the moonlight. "Besides, mon, why I waste
fancy meals on you? You jes eat standin' up, then rush off without
dessert. Sometimes you not eat at all."

Travis reached across the table and clasped Susan's hand.
"Things will be different now."

" 'Bout time, too," Mala retorted as she turned to leave
the veranda.

"I think she's beginning to like me a little," Susan
confided.

Travis chuckled. "How could she help it? That doesn't mean
she won't boss you around, just as she does me. The woman's a tartar,
but don't let it upset you."

"Don't worry. My feelings aren't easily hurt."

He looked up from his plate, his eyes meeting hers with an
odd, fleeting expression. But when he spoke, it was to say something
complimentary about the food. They ate in silence for several moments
and Susan thought back over what Travis had told her about his
grandfather's will and the reason for his cousins' obvious displeasure.
And suddenly she remembered her stop at the boutique that afternoon.

"I almost forgot to tell you," she said. "I met your
friend Kay Harte today. I was in town and happened onto her shop, so I
introduced myself. After she recovered from the shock, she gave me a
cup of tea."