Rexanne Becnel (5 page)

Unlike Frederick, his half-brother had a dangerous quality about him. Shrewdness, persistence, and—no doubt—vindictiveness, made him an adversary of no little consequence. To make matters worse, he was probably able to turn on his masculine charm at will. Handsome men usually could, she thought, remembering the smile that had lit his face. Still, it had been a false smile, and if he was handsome, it was a handsomeness too ruthless to appeal to her. No matter what his successes in business had been, he was undoubtedly a ruffian at heart. She’d heard wild tales about Denver and the Colorado Territory. Surely only the roughest of characters could survive in such a crude and lawless place.

His booted footsteps on the wide gallery brought her out of her worried musings. With a stern mental shake she moved from the parlor toward the hall. She was prepared, she told herself. She was more than a match for him and she would best him at every turn. Her hardest task would be curbing her temper if he continued to bait her.

“Do come in, Mr. Lockwood. Do come in,” she greeted him softly, gesturing toward the small parlor. She had abandoned her spectacles—Frederick’s spectacles—in favor of a small fan which she now waved with a forced air of lethargy. “I do hope you’ll forgive me my poor manners earlier. I confess you took me completely by surprise. Why, Frederick never indicated you might visit Kimbell.”

“Indeed?” He strolled into the parlor and looked around the room slowly. Then he turned back to her and gave her a cynical smile. “He knew me well, then, for I have not come back to visit Kimbell.”

Lacie lowered her eyes at once from his sharp gaze. She should obviously ask him why he had come, but she feared the answer to that question. As the moment stretched out into uncomfortable silence her irritation grew. Finally she closed the fan with a snap and steeled herself. He was playing a cat-and-mouse game with her. But his game would only work if she let it, and she had no intention of playing the mouse for him.

Assuming her most regal posture she moved gracefully across the room, then turned at the black marble mantel to face him.

“Mr. Lockwood, I believe it would be best if we were honest with one another,” she began.

His brow arched at her words and although he said nothing, she knew she had his undivided attention.

“While you have not revealed your reason for coming, I cannot pretend to be unaware that until Frederick and I were wed, you were his legal heir.”

There was no response save, perhaps, that his eyes became an even deeper shade of emerald. But he didn’t speak a word and only watched her steadily.

Still, that alone was enough to unnerve her, for that deep-set gaze seemed to see right through her.

“Perhaps”—she floundered for a moment—“perhaps you expected to sell Frederick’s school and use the proceeds to finance some other venture. I can understand your disappointment to find yourself usurped. I assure you, however, that it was Frederick’s desire that his school be preserved. I intend to carry out his wish.”

She took a slow, shaky breath after she had finished her little speech. What would his response be? she wondered nervously. By bringing up this awkward subject had she defused the problem or had she only deepened his suspicions?

He did not respond at once. Instead, he picked up a small porcelain figurine of a shepherdess and her flock and examined it.

“Once more that unswerving frankness,” he intoned in a curiously mild voice as he replaced the figurine on the serpentine mahogany commode. “And yet I wonder why you would ascribe such suspicions to me. Have you reason to be on the defensive?”

“I’m not ‘on the defensive,’ as you put it,” Lacie responded more heatedly than she’d intended. “It simply seems odd to me that you show up now, after Frederick’s death, when you might have come to see him anytime previously if you’d wanted to.”

“That is none of your concern,” he cut in coldly.

“No? Well, your presence here now is my concern. And I assume that, like a jackal, you’ve come to fight over the remains!”

It was a horrid thing to say, and she regretted it at once. But once said, it would not go away. To her dismay, his lean face lifted in a sardonic grin.

“My, my! The proper schoolmistress certainly has become hot-headed. And with no provocation at all, I might add. Could there be something—unknown to me, of course—that has you so unsettled?”

Lacie was saved from having to respond to that baiting question by the abrupt entrance of young Nina.

“Miss Lacie, Miss Lacie. Dinner is to be served—”

She stopped and stared when she saw the strange man. Then she appeared to recall the manners she’d been taught, and she curtsied with a great show of dignity.

“Excuse me, Miss Lacie. I didn’t know you were entertaining a caller,” she said very seriously.

If it had not been so awkward, it might have been funny. But Lacie did not see it that way. “He’s not a caller,” she replied crossly. Then she forced a smile to her lips. “Thank you for coming, Nina. We shall adjourn to the dining room directly.”

Nina disappeared at once. As the quick patter of her footsteps faded, Lacie eyed her tormentor with renewed dismay. However would she survive this meal?

But if she dreaded the coming ordeal, he seemed almost to relish it, for he smiled broadly.

“May I escort you to the dining room—Lacie?” He laughed when she bristled. “Somehow I doubt you would want me to call you ‘sister.’ And ‘Mrs. Kimbell’ doesn’t seem…appropriate. And as for
Miss
Lacie—well, that’s suitable for a child to call you. But I’m no child,” he added in a low, resonant voice.

He was no child. She knew that logically. And yet it was not logic that caused her stomach to tighten at his words. When he crossed to her, she tried not to notice the way he moved so easily, as if he were in complete control of the situation. When he put his arm out to her, she tried hard to disregard the challenge in his mocking green eyes. And when she finally took up the challenge, she had to force herself to ignore the firm muscles and unexpected warmth beneath her hand.

They had settled nothing, so why then did she feel he’d already won? she fretted as he led her across the hall.

Because he was acting as if he had. He was acting the proprietor, and she was reacting like a guilty child. Well, no more! she vowed to herself.

Before they entered the dining room, she removed her hand swiftly from his arm, ignoring the warmth lingering on her fingertips. She turned to face him, a haughty expression painted on her face. But he was too tall and too near. She took a step back, feeling her composure slipping already.

“I trust you will not bring up anything pertaining to the school—or any personal matters involving Frederick—before the dinner company.”

He pondered her words a moment, then nodded his head. “If you prefer that our discussion continue later, in private, I’ll be happy to oblige you.”

That was exactly what she wanted, and yet the way he had said “in private” sent an unexpected tremor through her. Still, there was no help for it. With a curt nod at him, she moved peremptorily to the head of the long polished table, then sent him her most patronizing look.

“Please be seated, Mr. Lockwood.” She indicated a chair to the left of Nina’s and gestured for Ada to sit to her own right.

But he was not to be outdone. To her absolute frustration he insisted on holding her chair until she was seated. Then he did the same for Ada, not allowing Lacie to introduce him but performing the honors himself. Last, he seated Nina, to the child’s sheer delight. Her little face glowed, and her eyes followed him adoringly as he sat down next to her.

Lacie met Ada’s worried gaze briefly. They’d not been able to plot their course of action, for it was hard to tell just what Frederick’s brother was up to. Still, it helped to have Ada in her corner. Lacie took some courage from her friend’s silent support.

“Nina, perhaps you’d like to say grace tonight.”

The little girl smiled a gap-toothed grin, then frowned and began in a solemn voice: “Thank you, Lord, for our supper. And our dinner and our breakfast. Thank you for everything you give us every day.” She darted a quick look at the tall man at her left. “And especially thank you for sending someone to help Miss Lacie, now that Mr. Frederick is gone to heaven.”

It took all Lacie’s effort to give Nina an approving smile. But when she saw Dillon Lockwood’s amused grin, her smile became more of a grimace.

“Would you care for stewed tomatoes?” Ada murmured tactfully as she forcibly handed the blue-and-white-pottery bowl to Lacie.

Tomatoes, mustard greens, potatoes and onions, and slices of smoked ham, as well as pan bread, fresh butter, and milk, made up the fare. Yet Lacie had no appetite and put very little on her plate. Dillon Lockwood, by contrast, filled his plate generously and even took a glass of milk. Ada had suggested wine or at least a bottle of Frederick’s homemade beer for their guest, but Lacie had decided against it. She did not want him to get too comfortable. Let him drink milk, or else water as they did.

“You ladies certainly set a fine table. Do the students eat this well the year round?”

“Oh, yes,” Ada said with a nod.

“No—” Lacie interjected at the same moment.

At the two contradictory answers, Dillon’s brow lifted wryly. He regarded the two embarrassed women curiously. “Yes? No? Perhaps you just have differing opinions on what constitutes a good meal?”

“What Ada means—what I mean is that although the girls always get healthy meals, there is seldom the—the surplus that there is tonight. Funds are limited, and we must stretch every dollar we have to keep the girls fed.”

“Yes.” Ada nodded so vigorously that her blond curls shook. “Yes, the meals are always nourishing, but tonight’s supper is especially good.”

After that there seemed no topic for conversation, and a silence began to build. Although Lacie squirmed uncomfortably at the awkward situation, she didn’t know how to rectify it. Even light chatter seemed quite beyond her tonight.

Dillon Lockwood, on the other hand, did not appear the least perturbed by the dreadful silence. In fact, he seemed to enjoy the chaos his presence at Sparrow Hill School was causing, and he was clearly enjoying the meal as well. When he caught Nina’s shy gaze, he gave her a quick wink that brought a smile to her little face. It was she who finally broke the oppressive quiet.

“Are you going to be the new headmaster for our school?”

Dillon leaned back in his chair. “I don’t believe that I’m the right sort of person for that position,” he replied. His gaze moved momentarily to Lacie. “Besides, I have a number of other ventures that require my attention. Now I have a question for you. Why have all the other girls gone home and yet you are still here?”

“My daddy’s late because he’s waiting for another baby to be born. So he said I could stay with Miss Lacie for a little while.”

“It would be no trouble for me to bring her home, Lacie,” Ada spoke up. “I’ll be going right through there.”

“You’re leaving also?” His dark brows arched slightly in what seemed to be only polite interest. Yet Lacie felt an ominous foreboding.

“Why—um…yes. My great-aunt is visiting my parents, so—so I’ll be going to meet them all.” Ada shot an apologetic look toward Lacie. “But I won’t be gone long,” she hastened to add.

“And you’ll be taking Nina?”

“No.” Lacie folded her hands to keep her fingers from trembling. “Nina is going to stay with me until her father comes.” She tried to smile encouragingly at Nina, but she knew it was a poor effort. “She and I shall enjoy having the house all to ourselves, won’t we, Nina?”

Nina’s chubby face bobbed enthusiastically. Then she turned her sparkling eyes up to Dillon. “But we won’t really be alone. Not now that you’re here.”

L
ACIE HAD LEFT THE
table with a pounding headache, a headache exacerbated by the obvious good mood of their unwelcome guest. As the meal had progressed he had become more and more pleasant, enticing smiles from both Nina and Ada. Like a practiced charmer he had entertained them with stories of the West and tales of his travels.

But he would not charm her so easily, Lacie vowed.

She had felt a certain satisfaction when Nina began to yawn and rub her eyes. It had been the perfect excuse for her to leave his presence. While she’d taken care of Nina, Ada had prepared one of the vacant rooms for his use.

That had left him alone, and given no polite alternative, he had adjourned to the shadowy gallery to smoke his slender cigar with only the evening cicadas for company.

Lacie smiled inwardly. They had not resumed their earlier conversation, and she was pleased that she’d gotten the best of him on that score. Although nothing was settled, he must nonetheless realize now that she was not about to fold at the first sign of his bullying. He might think he could manipulate her into letting down her guard, but she was just as determined to thwart him.

Still, there had been a few moments when he had turned that disarmingly crooked smile on her…

Lacie firmly shook off such thoughts. Then with a final smoothing of the thin cotton sheet, she stepped back from the bed in which Nina lay. The girl had been afraid to sleep in her attic room now that the other girls were gone. But safely ensconced in Lacie’s own bed, she had quickly fallen asleep. Lacie looked down at the small cherubic face and smiled. Such a sweet child. What a blessing it was to have her staying longer, especially since Ada was leaving tomorrow. Although Nina would be no real protection against Dillon Lockwood’s oppressive presence, she still. provided a buffer between them, some common ground that allowed them to pretend to at least a semblance of civility.

Unfortunately, Nina would not be there for very long. And who knew how long Dillon Lockwood intended to linger at Sparrow Hill?

But no matter how long he stayed, she would outlast him. Common courtesy demanded that she not throw him out. After all, despite his awkward relationship to Frederick, he was nevertheless his half-brother. No, she would just have to suffer his unwelcome presence and hope that his business dealings would eventually draw him back to the Colorado Territory. When he saw the marriage license, he would surely give up hope of inheriting the school. Then Sparrow Hill would truly be hers, and she would preserve it just as Frederick would have wanted.