Romance Classics (31 page)

“I would like to see Mr. McCullers, please,” she said sharply.

The man’s eyes took her in, even while he was answering, “Mr. McCullers is at breakfast.”

“At two in the afternoon?” The words slipped out before Lynn could stop them, and she went on quickly, feeling her face color beneath the man’s amused, faintly contemptuous smile. “Please say that Miss Carter would like to see him and that it’s important.”

“If you will step in, miss, I will see if the master is available,” said the man smoothly, and led the way across a big, square reception hall to a small room that was obviously a morning room.

He bowed and left her, and Lynn looked about her. The room was as bleak, as cheerless as the outside of the house had led her to expect.

The door opened eventually, and Wayde came in, wearing dark pajamas beneath a dark green silk robe. His eyes took her in swiftly, and he grinned happily.

“So it
is
you,” he greeted her warmly. “When Fitch said a Miss Carter was here, I refused to believe it could be you. After the brushoff you gave me when we were at the Junction, I thought I’d probably have to run you down to get another look at you.”

“I came on business,” Lynn told him curtly.

His eyebrows went up, and his hands were jammed deeply into the pockets of his robe as he studied her.

“I asked Fitch to bring us some coffee.”

“Thanks, I had lunch before I came,” Lynn told him curtly.

“Oh?” Some of the warmth had gone out of his voice, and his eyes now were coolly measuring her, as there was a tap at the door and Fitch came in bearing a silver coffee tray and put it down on a low table.

“Will that be all, sir?” he asked, his expression wooden, his eyes on a place above Lynn’s head.

“That’s all, thanks,” said Wayde, and the door closed gently behind Fitch. “You don’t mind if I have some coffee? Sure you won’t join me?” Wayde asked Lynn politely.

“Thanks, no — that is, please have some yourself,” Lynn answered.

“Won’t you sit down? I wish there was a more cheerful room in the house to take you to, but I’m afraid there isn’t. They’re all pretty much like this one — Spook Hill it is, you see, inside as well as out.”

“It needn’t be,” Lynn said as she perched on the edge of one of the slippery brown leather chairs. “You could redecorate.”

Wayde looked up at her, his eyebrows raised.

“Just for the length of my sentence? It hardly seems worth it, does it?” he mocked, as he poured coffee for himself and sat back on the comfortless leather couch. “Well, how much? And am I supposed to ask for what — or just surrender a check meekly and let you use it as your little heart desires?”

Lynn stared at him, puzzled.

“I’m afraid I’m not following you,” she admitted.

“Oh, come now. You’re here to solicit funds for some pet charity, of course.” His tone was openly derisive.

“But I’m not! It’s not that at all.”

“Don’t tell me you were drawn here by my irresistible charms, Miss Carter! That I won’t believe!”

“Well, I shouldn’t think you would! They’re by no means irresistible — not to me, anyway!” Lynn flashed hotly.

Wayde’s eyes were coolly speculative.

“I somehow got that impression when we first met, which is why I was so thunderstruck when Fitch told me you’d come calling,” he told her dryly. “So am I permitted to ask just why you came?”

“You’re making me very angry,” Lynn confessed through her teeth. “And I don’t want to quarrel with you.”

“Don’t you? How very odd of you. I thought everybody in your little ten-cent town wanted nothing else of me.”

Lynn drew a hard, deep breath, and her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her immaculate white gloves were strained at the seams.

“If you’d just let me
tell
you—” she began huskily.

“Oh, do, by all means. I insist upon it,” said Wayde, and held up the tall, beautifully wrought silver coffee pot. “Sure you won’t have a cup?”

“Quite sure,” Lynn said through her teeth, and was silent for a moment, fighting to control her resentment at this arrogantly handsome creature. And then, choosing her words with care, she began recounting her experience with Bert When she finished, there were tears in her eyes and her voice was not quite steady.

Wayde had listened without interruption.

“A very touching story,” he said mildly. “And what am
I
supposed to do about it?”

“The land belongs to you, Mr. McCullers,” Lynn pointed out earnestly. “If you’d post it against hunting, put up signs forbidding trespassing—”

It seemed to her such a simple thing to ask, so easily done, that she could scarcely believe it when she saw him shake his head.

“You won’t?” she asked incredulously.

“Sorry, but it would accomplish nothing, except to get me a little farther into the bad graces of your charming townfolks,” he told her curtly.

Lynn set her teeth hard for a moment before she could control her voice.

“If you care so much what the people here think of you—” she began.

“Who said I did?”

“You indicated that you did.”

“Then you misunderstood me completely, my dear Miss Carter.” His tone was one that brought a deepened color to her cheeks and lit a spark in her eyes. “I only meant that to post the land against hunting would be about as silly a thing as I could possibly do.”

“I don’t see that at all!” she flashed.

He studied her curiously.

“That, of course, is because you don’t want to,” he pointed out “First of all, there can’t possibly be any game worth hunting in those woods. Second, putting up signs forbidding hunting would be merely to arouse the would-be hunters to say, ‘Oh, so he doesn’t want me to hunt in there? Well, we’ve hunted in there for generations and I’d like to see him stop us.’ So the signs would merely be a challenge to them and bring them there in large numbers.”

Lynn considered that unwillingly, and had reluctantly to agree with it.

“Well, I suppose there
is
something in what you say,” she admitted huskily at last. “Only it seems such a filthy shame that poor Bert should be continually hurt by people destroying his friends.”

“I suppose so.” He seemed completely untouched by the thought, and his tone was merely polite, quite disinterested.

Lynn stood up, and Wayde rose politely with her.

“I’m sorry I took up your time, Mr. McCullers. I suppose I’ve been very silly.” She managed the words with difficulty, unwilling to speak them, yet getting them out as politely as she could. “Good-bye, and thank you for seeing me.”

“Oh, my time’s not all that valuable,” Wayde assured her, and for the first time there was a faint hint of a twinkle in his eyes. “And it’s always a pleasure to see you any time at all. Do drop in often, won’t you?”

Lynn set her teeth hard against the note of mockery in his voice as he held the door open for her and followed her into the big drearily cold reception hall.

A door down the hall opened, and a girl came out, called his name petulantly, as though she had every right to be annoyed with him.

“Wayde, we’re all waiting for you!”

Lynn turned, saw the girl, and admitted she was devastatingly beautiful, with a fluff of golden hair framing a charming oval face. Her blue eyes were quite cold as they swept over Lynn, dismissing her with a faint flicker of distaste.

Wayde opened the big, oaken front door, and smiled politely down at Lynn as he spoke over his shoulder to the blonde. “Be right with you, Baby.”

Lynn marched down the steps, head high.

A few days later, when they were all at the supper table, Judge Carter grinned impishly at his wife and daughter and said cheerfully, “Steve and I had a caller today.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Lynn said with mock severity. “How are you going to support Mother and me in idle luxury if you don’t have an occasional caller, at least?”

“Anybody we know?” asked Ruth. And though she smiled, there was a touch of anxiety in her eyes.

“Wayde McCullers,” said the Judge, and chuckled at their surprise.

“Well, what in the world did
he
want?” asked Ruth, astonished.

“Oh, something about having his land posted against hunting,” said the Judge, and Lynn caught her breath on a small, soundless gasp.

“Oh, I am glad. That will protect Bert’s ‘little people,’” Ruth began, pleased.

“Steve and I advised against it,” said the Judge briskly.

Lynn cried, “Oh, Dad, you didn’t!”

The Judge smiled faintly.

“We pointed out that it would only be a sort of challenge. It would bring in more hunters than there have ever been and I’m afraid poor Bert’s ‘little people’ would be wiped out in no time at all.”

Lynn nodded, downcast.

“That’s what he told me it would do,” she admitted, and looked up. “Yes, I went to see him and asked him to put up the signs.”

“Why, Lynn!” protested Ruth, shocked.

“Anyway,” the Judge hurried on, “we are all invited there to dinner tomorrow night. Stella is included in the invitation, too.”

“And of course you told him we wouldn’t come,” Lynn flashed.

Judge Carter eyed her curiously.

“Why, no, honey, I told him we’d be delighted.”

“He’s got a houseful of guests.”

“They all left yesterday,” the Judge answered.

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Lynn said curiously, “There was a very beautiful blonde girl there.”

“I’m sure there was,” said Ruth. “Wherever Wayde McCullers is, there will always be beautiful blondes — also brunettes, redheads and in-betweens!”

“Now, Ruthie,” protested the Judge, “you’ve never even met the man.”

“And I have no wish to,” Ruth flashed hotly.

“Now, Ruthie, you have no right to judge a man before meeting him, getting to know him.” The Judge’s voice held a faint ring of censure.

“I know all I need to know about him,” Ruth insisted. “Coming down here with a train-load of fancy guests who swoop through town on their way to more exciting amusements—” She subsided as she met the Judge’s eyes. “He never shows the slightest interest in Oakville, and it was here that his great-grandfather laid the foundation for all that wealth he now controls.”

“He’s showing an interest in us, and we’re part of Oakville. Maybe if we show him we can be pleasant, friendly, interested in him—” the Judge began.

“Well, I can’t be pleasant or friendly or show any interest in him,” Lynn burst out rashly. “He’s a spoiled, arrogant, self-centered, egotistical creature who thinks all women should swoon at his feet.”

“Stella rather liked him.” Steve spoke for the first time, his tone quiet, his eyes on Lynn. “I’d no idea you knew him so well, Lynn.”

“I don’t,” Lynn answered sulkily. “I only met him twice — at the Junction and then when I went to see him about Bert.”

“But you seem to despise him thoroughly,” Steve pointed out relentlessly.

“I do,” Lynn defended her position with blazing eyes. “I despise any man as rootless, as useless, as much a clutterer of the earth as he is. And he hasn’t even the decency to be ashamed!”

Steve asked curiously, “You think, with all his money, he should work, make himself useful some way?”

“Don’t you?” demanded Lynn sharply.

Steve grinned ruefully.

“Oh, I’m afraid I wouldn’t know enough to be able to judge,” he brushed the question off. “I’ve never had enough money to do more than pay this month’s bills. But I’m like your father and Stella. I rather liked the guy.”

“Oh, he can be very charming when he wants to be,” Lynn answered.

“Well, he wasn’t trying to charm
us
,” the Judge protested. “He was merely being courteous and friendly and pleasant. He may have exerted a bit of charm on Stella, of course.”

“That I doubt,” Steve insisted. “Stella’s proof against that sort of thing. Stella is a single-minded woman, with her mind centered on the study of law and the determination to ‘be somebody.’ I doubt if she’d give a second glance to a man like McCullers.”

Lynn stared at him, round-eyed. “Oh, Steve, don’t be a fool!” she protested.

“Lynn!” Ruth was shocked.

“Sorry, Steve. I just meant that if you’re in love with Stella—”

Steve’s eyes widened and his brows went up to the edge of his sandy hair.

“In love with Stella?” he gasped, as though he could hardly believe she had really said it. “In the name of Blackstone, who ever said I was?”

“Well, you always speak of her with so much admiration and respect — I suppose I took it for granted that you planned to set up shop together some day,” Lynn defended the remark. “I only meant if you had any such idea, see that she isn’t exposed to a creature like Wayde McCullers. He could be very bad medicine for a girl like Stella.”

“But of course for a sophisticated city gal like you—” There was a tautness in Steve’s tone that made her frown slightly as she looked at him.

“I don’t claim to be sophisticated, Steve, but I’ve met the likes of him before — men who are convinced of their good looks and charm, and who feel they are doing a girl an inestimable favor just by wearing her on their arm when they go out.”

Judge Carter sighed and made a little gesture of weariness, though there was a twinkle in his eyes.

“Seems to me we’re getting a bit away from the subject at hand, aren’t we?” he suggested mildly. “Weren’t we discussing a dinner invitation to Inspiration Hill tomorrow night?”

“I won’t go,” said Lynn firmly.

Ruth said just as firmly, “Oh, yes you will, my girl.”

For a moment Lynn and her mother eyed each other, and suddenly Lynn laughed and spread her hands in a gesture of defeat.

“So all right, I’ll go,” she yielded, “if that’s the way you want it. But I can warn you now, the place will give you the creeps. Spook Hill people call it, and Spook Hill it most certainly is. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised to hear the clanking of chains, the moaning of a ghost, perhaps even see one! It’s a place that ought to be haunted, if it isn’t!”

“I do hope so,” said Ruth cheerfully. “I’ve always wanted to see a ghost. And I’ve always wanted to see the inside of Spook Hill.”

“Better get used to calling it Inspiration Hill, before you make a slip and let McCullers discover what the people here call it,” warned the Judge.