Sioux Slave (34 page)

“Lenore,” Rand said, “you aren't listening to me. I said we need to go where it's quiet and have a talk. I've got something very important I must tell you.”

“Hmm.” She nodded, pretending not to hear. So he wanted to talk; no doubt to break their engagement. She'd have to be blind not to suspect there was something going on between him and her bastard half-sister. “Can't we talk later?”

“You aren't leaving me any choice.” His face looked set, grim. “Believe me, this isn't something to be discussed on a crowded dance floor.”

“Try me.” He wouldn't have the nerve, not after she wept on Rose Erikson's shoulder.

“All right, Lenore, I want to discuss breaking our engagement. It's not fair of me to marry you when my heart belongs to another, even if she doesn't want me.”

What a humiliation that would be. Rand looked as if his mind were made up and couldn't be changed.

For pity's sake, what should she do? Lenore had seen Shelby go out on the balcony and hadn't seen Kimi come in. If there was even the slightest chance that something might be happening that Rand would misread, Lenore wanted to take advantage of it.

“Rand, if you want to talk, let's go out on the balcony where it's quiet.” She took his arm, and with mincing steps she led him in threading their way through the crowd. She didn't care any more what else happened as long as she disgraced that gambler's bastard. The gossip would make sure Grandmother didn't include Laurel in her will. The real heir, that's who was going to get all the Carstairs wealth.

As Lenore steered Rand toward the balcony, she looked back and saw the judge standing near the orchestra with the local sheriff, and the judge frowned, watching her. She gave him a smug smile and fluttered her fan. She had Pierce Hamilton and Grandmother right where she wanted them, because of what they thought Lenore knew. The only thing left undone was disgracing her newly found half-sister and breaking up this romance.

 

 

Kimi struggled in Shelby's embrace, her heart pounding in terror and humiliation. He had both her hands in his, so she couldn't strike or scratch him while he held her against the pillar with his body. Even if she had dared to scream, she couldn't, not with his wet mouth ravaging hers. In the background, as she struggled against his strength, she was only vaguely aware that the orchestra had begun to play a loud Virginia reel, and the crowd danced and clapped their hands. The music reverberated through the mansion. Even if she did scream, Kimi thought, no one would hear her.

Abruptly past Shelby's shoulder, she saw Rand Erikson framed in the light of the doorway, looking angry and betrayed. He swore under his breath. “What's going on here?”

Even as Shelby craned his head to look behind him, startled, Rand grabbed him, whirled him around. “I said, what's going on here?”

Shelby quickly regained his composure. “The lady and I were just sharing a moment. You know how it is, brother-in-law,” he winked broadly, “You two won't tell Vanessa, will you?”

Even as Kimi paused, uncertain what to say, Lenore feigned wide-eyed shock and innocence. “For pity's sake! I never saw such brashness. Why, my poor best friend would be so hurt to know—”

“Hush, Lenore,” Rand snapped, “Kimi, what's going on out here?”

Shelby flashed her a warning glance, but from where Rand stood, she was certain he didn't see it. What should she do? Shelby obviously knew about Kimi and Rand. She didn't want to disgrace the Carstairs name or cause any more trouble. “Yes, that's right,” she mumbled. “It wasn't anything, just a kiss.”

She saw the fury in Rand's eyes and the amused triumph in Lenore's. The golden-eyed beauty had brought him out here deliberately for this, Kimi was sure of it. Probably Rand wouldn't believe her since he'd caught her in Shelby's arms.

Lenore grinned. “You little tramp!”

And in that split second, Kimi revolted. She slapped Lenore so hard it made the girl's head snap back, and the Southern belle dropped her fan. “Well, for pity's sake, did you see what that chit did?” Lenore wailed.

“Good night, everyone.” With great dignity, Kimi turned and went down the steep balcony stairs.

“Kimi, wait!” Rand called behind her, but she didn't look back. She had known she didn't belong here and it could never work out. Kimi might have white skin, but inside she was a Sioux, and she was going back to her people. She crossed the flagstone courtyard veranda and went around the front of the house.

From the big mansion, lights streamed and the loud music and clapping still reverberated as Kimi ran across the lawn.

There didn't seem to be anyone else out here. Most of the drivers had gone around to the kitchen for refreshments, probably.

Kimi saw the judge's buggy tied under an oak tree. She ran for it, climbed in, and awakened the startled, snoozing old horse with the snap of the reins.

The Carstairs carriage was parked nearby, the driver half asleep on the box. “What happen, Miz Laurel? De party over?”

“No, I'm not feeling well. So I'm taking the buggy, and leaving early.”

“Be glad to drive you, ma'am.”

“No,” she shook her head, “you bring the others when the party's over.”

Kimi snapped the reins, drove away from Randolph Hall, shivering in the crisp autumn night. She didn't belong here. She had never really fitted in. Except for Rand's sake, she hadn't wanted to. Now she wouldn't even have his love. Maybe that was for the best, too. Rand belonged in this society, and with Lenore, who was part of it. No doubt he thought the worst of her, but it didn't matter. It would be better if she made a clean break, got out of Rand's life. She had made her decision. Kimi was leaving Kentucky tonight.

Swearing under his breath, Rand turned around to face Shelby. He'd go after Kimi later, tell her he'd been a fool; convince her to marry him. Of course he'd reacted with his gut feeling, seeing her in another man's arms, but he knew Kimi better than that. He doubled his fists and advanced on Shelby.

“Now, Rand.” Shelby grinned with easy charm, backing away, holding up his hands in a placating manner, “Sweet Jesus. Who're you gonna believe? Your future brother-in-law, or that little tramp—?”

Rand hit him then, knocking him against the pillar. Shelby fought back and they meshed and struggled. In the background, the loud music and hand clapping of the Virginia Reel drowned out the fighting.

“You bastard!” Shelby snarled as they slammed against the wall and Rand hit him in the mouth. Shelby was a heavier man than Rand, and Rand realized abruptly that he was up against an experienced saloon brawler with no qualms about how he won his fights. Neither Southern gentlemen nor Indian braves went in for fighting with their fists. This put Rand at a distinct disadvantage.

“For pity's sake!” Lenore shouted, “you two stop it! This isn't what I had in mind at all!”

Lenore was behind this. Rand understood now why she had brought him out here. When he finished whipping the tar out of Shelby, Rand was going to finish breaking the engagement, go tell his mother off, and then beg Kimi on his knees to forgive him.

He hit Shelby again, knocking him against a potted fern that crashed to the balcony floor. He felt blood running from a corner of his mouth as the other man's fist connected with Rand's face.

They had fought their way back over to the railing of the balcony. Shelby brought his knee up and caught Rand hard in the groin. He had never felt such pain. Rand groaned, doubled up and stumbled backward. Shelby's nose sprayed blood when he breathed. “Now,” he snarled, “I'm gonna throw you over the railing!”

Rand staggered weakly back against a pillar as Shelby charged him like a bull and they meshed again. The unholy gleam in the man's eyes in the moonlight told Rand that Shelby intended to make good his threat. Rand was too hurt to do anything but hang onto him, hoping to recover enough to continue the fight. He glanced over his shoulder. Three stories below was a flagstone veranda. The man who went over the railing was a dead man. In the background the music and loud clapping drowned out the noise of the fight.

“Shelby! Rand! Stop that!” Lenore screamed, “For pity's sake! That little tramp isn't worth fighting over; you hear me?”

Neither man paid the least attention. They were each fighting for their lives now, locked in combat against the balcony railing.

Rand slammed Shelby hard in the mouth, knocking him back against the pillar. He heard Lenore's angry scream and the rustle of silk, and he glanced up to see her coming at him, her golden eyes alight with fury. “No, Lenore!” Rand shouted, realizing she meant to push him over the railing.

His cry of warning seemed to alert Shelby. At the last second, even as Lenore's hands reached, Shelby dodged aside and gave her a shove.

Rand grabbed for her, but his hands caught empty air. For a split second Rand saw the horrified look on her face in the moonlight, the way she seemed to hang suspended in midair for a heartbeat. She tried to right herself, but her mincing step and her tortured feet caused her to lose her balance. She screamed as she fell in a billow of green silk skirts, all the way to the flagstones below.

The music had abruptly stopped. Rand glanced up, saw the judge standing in the doorway. The expression on the old man's face told Rand he'd witnessed the whole scene.

“Lenore!” Rand ran down the balcony steps. She lay crumpled on the flagstones. When he lifted her head, she smiled up at him, blood running down her pale face, which was pale as camelia blossoms. The green silk was soaked dark with it. “Oh, Lenore, hang on, we'll get a doctor!”

“Hurts . . . hurts so much . . .”

“We'll get a doctor—”

“No, don't move me ... hurts ... wanted to have it all; just like my mother . . .”

He turned and looked up. There was noise and confusion on the balcony. The judge had seen everything; no doubt Rand was going to be in trouble. He didn't even care anymore. There were several doctors at tonight's party. “Someone get a doctor!”

Lenore was breathing shallowly. Curious people were coming out the doors, down the stairs. “What happened?”

“Lenore Carstairs tripped and fell off the balcony.”

“Oh, my God!”

“Someone get a doctor.”

Confusion, people crowding around, asking questions.

“Ask the judge, he saw it all.”

“Yes, I did.”

Rand cradled Lenore in his arms. He looked up. The judge was leaning over the railing, and behind him, the sheriff, the moonlight gleaming on his badge. “Sheriff arrest that man. He's wanted in several states.”

Murder? No, he hadn't killed anyone. It dawned on Rand suddenly that Judge Hamilton was pointing at Shelby Merson.

Even as the sheriff led Shelby past in handcuffs, Shelby paused, leaned over Lenore. “Is she still alive?”

Rand sighed. “Just barely.” He craned his neck and saw the plump doctor coming across the flagstones with his bag.

Shelby whispered, “Hey, Lenore, I've got something to tell you.”

Her eyes fluttered open weakly. “Sh—Shelby?”

“Honey, the joke's on you. You're that kid.”

Rand couldn't figure out what this was all about. Shelby grinned as if he knew a good joke. Lenore's golden eyes widened in horror as if she'd just realized something too terrible to comprehend.

“Bastard . . .” she muttered, “ironic . . . bastard.”

Rand looked at the sheriff, cursing under his breath. Everything in him wanted to get up and slug Shelby for making Lenore's last moments so terrible. “Get him out of here!” he shouted at the officer.

The next few minutes were a blur of confusion, people crowding around, asking questions, Vanessa screaming.

Then they were all standing on the veranda, the sheriff questioning Shelby. “Did you push Miss Carstairs?”

“Who, me? Sweet Jesus, no!” Shelby shook his head. “The judge saw it, didn't you, Hamilton? Tell them I didn't push her.”

The judge hesitated.

Shelby went livid. “I ain't gonna hang for a killing I didn't do! I'll tell you who's hiding a murder—the judge, that's who, the judge and old Mrs. Carstairs!”

“For shame!” The crowd muttered, “everyone knows those two have spotless reputations. He must be drunk or crazy to say something like that.”

“The derringer!” Shelby shouted, fighting against the two strong deputies holding him, “ask them where they put the gun!”

The judge shook his head and looked around at the crowd. “Trying to shift attention away from himself, that's all. Does anyone here really believe his wild tale? Why, Elizabeth Carstairs is a paragon of this county.” Everyone nodded agreement. “What really happened, judge?”

He paused and his gaze met Rand's. Rand waited, his heart pounding.

“Great Caesar's ghost,” the judge said, “I had just found out that Shelby Merson was both a fraud and a killer. He's wanted in another state for strangling a lady he duped out of money.”

Rand blinked, almost unbelieving, and the crowd muttered.

The judge cleared his throat. “I had alerted the sheriff to meet me here at the party, and Shelby must have realized we had the goods on him and tried to get away. Young Rand here was brave enough to try to stop him. I stepped out just in time to see them fighting with Lenore Carstairs trying to break up the fight; poor thing never had a chance!”

Shelby protested, “No, she was trying to push him over, that's what she was trying—”

“Lenore was trying to save Rand,” the judge said smoothly, “and about the time I came out with the sheriff, she went over the rail. Poor thing's a heroine. Isn't that right, Rand?”

He couldn't smear a lady's name—certainly not a Carstairs. “That's right,” he said. “Lenore Carstairs was a real lady, trying to apprehend the crook.”

“No, that ain't right!” Shelby struggled. “The judge is helping cover up an old crime, I tell you, won't someone listen—?”

The burly sheriff snarled, “You got your nerve, trying to smear two fine people like the judge and old Mrs. Carstairs. Why, everyone knows the Carstairs are the finest family in the county!”

The deputies dragged him away, still protesting.

Vanessa and Mother stood in the courtyard and Vanessa was wailing. “Mercy me, you mean I've been engaged to a killer? A thief? I'm disgraced! Disgraced!”

A murmur of laughter went through the crowd. Evidently no one was too upset that the two women had been made to look like fools. Rand got a little satisfaction out of that.

The old doctor had spread a blanket over Lenore's prone form. “She was so beautiful; just like her mother.”

Rand tried to feel something for her, but all he could feel was pity and shock that he had ever thought he loved her.

Someone asked, “Where is Lenore's sister, anyway?”

What should he say?

He didn't have to say anything, the judge stepped in. “Laurel wasn't feeling well. She went home earlier in the evening, taking my buggy.”

Rand hesitated a long moment, looking around. His mother and sister were sobbing; not for Lenore, he realized, but for their own disgrace. Jon Erikson had just the trace of a smile on his sad face. “Son,” he said, “I want to have a little talk with you before you go over to the Carstairs.”

“Jon,” his mother wheezed indignantly. “You've had too much to drink. Rand, don't listen to him.”

For the very first time in as long as Rand could remember, his father looked her straight in the eye. “Rose, shut up. I'm tired of your carping. When I finish talking to my son, we'll talk. No, I'll talk and you'll listen. I'm leaving you.”

A murmur went through the crowd, and Rose Randolph Erikson turned deathly pale. “Please, Jon; I'll be humiliated—”

“Like you've humiliated me all these years? I made a bad choice, Rose, and maybe it's too late for me, but it isn't too late for Rand.”

The judge put his hand on Jon's shoulder. “There are a few more things that have to be taken care of, questions that have to be answered. You and your boy go inside and have that talk. Then Rand and I will take the carriage and go tell Mrs. Carstairs and her other granddaughter what has happened here tonight.”

A murmur of sympathy ran through the crowd. “Poor old Mrs. Carstairs. She's certainly had more than her share of tragedy.”

Rand saw the judge breathe a sigh of relief, wondering about it. Perhaps Pierce Hamilton was worried about what Shelby Merson was going to say on the witness stand. It didn't matter. Who would believe a gigolo who was being tried for murder—especially considering the Carstairs sterling reputation. Shelby Merson would be lucky if this crowd didn't lynch him.

Rand had never felt so close to his father as he did now. He put his arm around the older man's shoulders and turned toward the house. “Maybe it's not too late for both of us to find a little happiness, Dad.”

 

Elizabeth Carstairs stopped playing her piano and looked at the clock. Almost eleven. It was just about this time that long ago night....

No, she must not think about that; it made her chest hurt. Certainly keeping the secret had been gradually wearing her down for almost sixteen years. Even Pierce and Nero were stressed because of it.
God is not mocked
, she thought as she stood up. Perhaps they were all three being punished for their part in it.

The house was so quiet she could hear the clock ticking and the old house squeaking in the chill October wind. If she listened really close, sometimes she thought she heard her daughter-in-law's laughter echoing through the halls. Beautiful and faithless Camelia.

She got up and went to stare at the big painting, remembering. She looked at the two little girls in the portrait and wondered how Lenore and Laurel were doing tonight at the Harvest Ball. Given half a chance, Laurel was going to outshine the older girl, but local society wasn't going to be kind to her. Young Rand would have to make his choice between the two half-sisters. Was he as weak as his father going the way of least resistance? Elizabeth hoped not, but tonight would tell.

The puppy lay by the sofa. Now it raised its head and its tail thumped. She went over, sat down on the sofa and patted its ears. “Tally Ho, you've created a lot of trouble for me with your digging. You're going to have to go live with the judge, but you'll like it there. I can't have you digging under the camelia bush. Bad dog, you dug up Clint Nutter's pistol. If you dug a little deeper . . .”

Nero stuck his head in the door just then. “Miz Elizabeth, I found it. She hid it in her bureau.”

Elizabeth sighed with relief. “You take care of it?”

He nodded. “Nero always take care of you, Miz Elizabeth.”

“Thank you, Nero.” She dismissed him with a nod, relieved that the evidence was gone. If Lenore told her wild story now, who would believe her? Elizabeth settled back on the sofa. The clock ticked in the silence. She had lived with the secret a long time, she and Pierce and Nero. She would protect the Carstairs name, as would they. It had been a long, long time to carry the burden; it was telling on all of them.

With a sigh, she thought about the past. Her son had told her he was marrying the beauty in a whirlwind courtship because he had not behaved like a gentleman and had taken advantage of the lady. Camelia was with child. But the moment Elizabeth had seen the baby girl's eyes, she had known her son had been taken for a fool. Jim was the one who had been duped, giving the proud Carstairs name to another man's bastard.