Tell Me I'm Dreamin' (21 page)

Finally, Melanie spoke, her voice strained, controlled. “I'm glad you were able to make it tonight, Nadine. I hope you like roasted pork. It is one of Rodney's favorites.”

Rodney offered a weak smile, adding, “It definitely is. And after our walk I've worked up quite an appetite.”

Basil released a deep chuckle. “Rodney, you must be kidding. You tend to be hungry no matter what. A quarter of Sharpe Hall's fortune goes toward fulfilling your lavish taste in every sense of the word.”

Rodney looked at his brother, but said nothing. That did not seem to matter to Basil. It was just the beginning of his gregariousness. As he rattled on, the same servant who had served Nadine tea entered with a large pot and ladle. She began to serve an aromatic soup.

Nadine was relieved someone was in the mood for talking, although some of Basil's tactless words were less than appetizing. Still he filled the uncomfortable silence since neither Rodney nor Melanie seemed to be up to doing so.

“Ah, the callaloo smells wonderful,” Basil commented loudly.

The surprised servant jumped as if she had been spooked, her scared dark eyes darting from Basil to Melanie. It was obvious she was not accustomed to any kind of comment, let alone a compliment from her employer. She managed to mouth a half-audible “Thank you” before escaping with the now-shaking dish.

“Do you serve stew with okra and crab like this in America?” Basil continued his sociable chatter.

“We wouldn't call it stew, at least not in the circles that I'm in. I'm sure it varies according to a person's cultural background. But a dish like that would be considered gumbo.”

“Well, callaloo is a very popular stew on Barbados and Eros. I think you will enjoy it.” Basil lifted the soup spoon to his lips, making a soft, but audible slurping noise. Afterwards he nodded in Nadine's direction.

“How are you liking your stay on Eros?”

“Everything has been fine. I've been working since I arrived, and there's only so much enjoyment you can get out of that,” Nadine replied.

Once again her host laughed, but it rang emptily through the sizable dining room. No one else joined in. Even Nadine's supporting smile faded as she glanced at Rodney's serious profile.

“Well, I must say a woman as attractive as you, Miss Clayton, should always enjoy herself, or should be given enjoyment.” His dark eyes looked at her suggestively.

Nadine looked down at her food, but not before seeing Rodney's back stiffen, and Melanie's skin turn rather ashy. The eldest Sharpe glanced around the table at his silent siblings.

“Pretty soon Miss Clayton is going to feel she is not welcome at Sharpe Hall if the mood around this table does not change.” Basil's words were said in jest but they held an ominous undercurrent.

A flicker of dismay crossed Melanie's features and the pulse at Rodney's temple seemed to quicken. Yet that one mild threat was all it took for the two of them to make a concerted effort to change the mood of the dinner. Melanie began to discuss the upcoming book sale, and Rodney asked a question or two just for good measure. It was now Basil's time for silence.

Nadine could feel his hard eyes on her. He made her feel uneasy with his calculating stare. She was glad when the entree dishes were collected and the dessert was served.

“Miss Clayton, I will be accompanying you back to Sovereign tonight. It was very thoughtful of Rodney to escort you here, but since you are
my
guest, I think it is only right that I see you back safely.”

These words from Basil seemed to be all that Rodney could take. Suddenly, he excused himself from the table.

“That reminds me, there are several things I need to take care of, uh, immediately. If you will all excuse me.” He rose out of his chair and began to exit the room.

“Why, Rodney, I am surprised at you,” Basil called out to his brother's retreating back. “I have never seen you take leave of a woman without giving her a proper farewell.”

Rodney stopped and turned toward them with a purposeful smile on his face. Nadine could see he was trying to maintain his control.

“You are right, of course.” He began to retrace his steps across the floor. “I am sorry, Nadine.” He then gave her the customary touching of cheeks and symbolic kiss. As he drew away Nadine noticed an ugly red mark on his face. One that she was sure had not been there during their walk from Sovereign to Sharpe Hall.

“Rodney, what happened? Did you walk into something?”

Automatically, he raised his hand to cover it. “It—it is nothing.”

“You will find Rodney is accident-prone,” Basil explained in a patronizing, ironic tone. “He always has been, especially when he was a little child.” He twisted a large gold ring on his finger.

Nadine could see the anger rise up in Rodney's eyes as he turned toward his brother. Their eyes locked and the tension was tangible.

“Rodney.” Melanie called her younger brother's name with urgency. “I know you said you had something to do, but would you mind checking on the cook on your way out? She was sick earlier. Catherine had prepared some medicine for her that I have been trying to get her to take. She does not listen to me very well, but you know how she has always had a soft spot for you.”

Rodney's gaze dropped to the floor in a moment of indecision. After a short pause he replied, “Of course I will.” Once again he said good night and quickly exited the dining room.

Nadine was glad to see the light coming from the tunnel-like entrance of Sovereign. Even though Basil's chatter had been interesting enough, she felt nervous in his presence. She had not enjoyed her dinner at Sharpe Hall, and there could be little doubt that Basil was the reason.

As she waited alone in the foyer for Basil to escort her back to Sovereign, she could hear harsh whispers in the salon. The voices were deep and she assumed it was Basil and Rodney. She could not make out the words, but she could tell they were not pleasant ones.

This made no sense to her. Why was there so much animosity between the Sharpes? It seemed to have something to do with her, but how could that be? She had just met them, and had not developed or shown any interest in Basil or Rodney.

Nadine looked at the man beside her and felt the urge to hurry to Sovereign's large oak door before he made any further advances toward her. But instead she stood motionless beside him.

“I cannot express how much I enjoyed your company at dinner tonight, Miss Clayton. I hope we can do it again . . . soon.”

“What can I say?” Nadine searched for the proper words to express how she felt. “I appreciate your invitation, but I doubt if I'll be able to come back again before I leave the island. The book sale is just a few days away, and I'm sure I'll be very busy. But again, thank you.”

“I understand.” A mechanical smile spread across Basil's thin lips. “At the same time I am not a man accustomed to being turned away so easily. Maybe something can be arranged. Ulysses is a very reasonable man.” A suggestive tone entered his voice. “But it is late and I know you must go inside.” Basil leaned over and repeated the customary farewell Rodney had given her earlier. He seemed to prolong the touch of his hot, sweaty cheek upon hers, while holding her arms tightly to her sides, disabling any movement on her part. It sent a cold shiver down her spine. Finally, Nadine was able to pull away.

Something about him bothered her. She thought about the way Melanie and Rodney were obviously intimidated by him, as well as the servant. With a challenging look in her eyes, Nadine drove her point home. “I don't think that is going to happen.”

A semi-smirk crossed Basil's harsh features. He seemed to receive pleasure from Nadine's discomfort. He raised her reluctant hand to his lips. “Good-bye—that is, until we meet again.”

As the front door closed behind Nadine, a shadowy figure drew back from an open window. Ulysses' heart skipped erratically, and he felt as if blood was rushing to his head. He wished he could have heard the conversation between Nadine and Basil, but they were speaking too softly for that.

He knew Basil Sharpe well, arid what he knew about him he did not like. He was a cruel man with an equally sadistic reputation especially when it came to women. Women of African heritage in particular.

Ulysses knew Basil never invited guests to dinner. As a matter of fact the gossip among the servants and the islanders implied he even refused Melanie or Rodney the luxury of visitors. Ulysses' eyes narrowed as he lit the blackened wick on his wall, a picture of Basil prolonging the touch of his lips against Nadine's cheek coursing through his mind. Could it be they were more than new acquaintances?

The thought of Nadine betraying him with Basil made his blood run cold. Betraying him. What a strange phrase to use. Betraying him how? Financially or physically? Ulysses hated to admit it, but the latter caused the greatest pang. Then he chided himself for even using the word “betray.” There was no real relationship between Nadine and him, although betrayal was what he felt. From what he had been able to uncover concerning Nadine's meager beginnings, it would not be far-fetched to think she had latched on to someone like Basil.

At first he was reluctant to hire the private detective through John Castle. But he was determined; if learning more about Nadine Clayton could lead him to the thief who had stolen a part of the Gaia Series, and to Clarence's attacker, he was willing to do it.

The letters he had been given did not indicate she was involved, or ever had been involved, in any criminal activity. But they did reveal another side of her personality.

He sat down and unlocked the desk drawer, pulling out the smooth, tan envelope. Methodically, his fingers thumbed through the pages inside. Ulysses' conscience nagged at him a bit as he looked at the bundle of letters he held in his hands. They told so much about Nadine, and he wondered if John and the detective had read them. He went to the last letter Nadine had received from the woman named Gloria and read the passage he felt was the most insightful.

Well, it seems like you've finally gotten your head together. Going out of the country will be one of the best things you've ever done. And when you find the man who's your ticket to a life of luxury, you had better latch on to him, girl. (Smile) Do whatever it takes to make it work. We both know how long it has taken you to get this far.

Over and over this Gloria had warned Nadine against being so naive. If Nadine had taken her friend's advice about life, love, and men, which from the last letter it appeared she had, she now was well-schooled in the art of female deception. Even her claim of being a virgin could well be a lie, and the way things stood at this point, it probably was, especially if she could take up with a man like Basil. Ulysses put the incriminating letter back inside the pack.

It was obvious, from what he had read, that Nadine had always been on the outer circles of society, and Ulysses wondered if there was a limit to the things she would do in order to break away from the small-town country image she secretly despised. The question was: how far would she go to lose that identity?

Ulysses wished he had known the young woman Nadine had been prior to her becoming a deceitful gold digger. But he knew there was no sense in wishing for the past, yet the new image he had of Nadine did not feel right. If she was a gold digger why hadn't she pursued him or warmed up to Etien Richarde's proposition? Ulysses hung his head and ran both hands through his mass of curly hair. An affair with Etien would not have amounted to much. An affair? You would not have been able to call it that. It would have been more like a one-night stand, and that would not have shown much class. If there was one thing Gloria had drummed into Nadine, it was “Whatever you do, do it with class.” How much classier could she get than deciding to become a part of an international literature and art circle, a convenient place for clandestine activities that could be quite profitable. After all she was not above lying. She had lied about being an historian.

Ulysses' head pounded as he considered the many possibilities. But even after his mental deluge of what-ifs, he still could not convince himself of Nadine's guilt. There was something about her that touched him in places that had never been aroused before. A kind of trusting innocence.

The dull thud of a door closing further down the hall broke into Ulysses' thoughts, and he began to undress. Now that Nadine was back at Sovereign he would be able to keep an eye on her, and whatever he found out, he would not let his feelings for her blind him. He was the owner of Sovereign, and as “the Protector of Eros' Treasures,” they must be his first concern, and they must be protected at all costs.

Basil Sharpe approached Sharpe Hall beneath the bright moonlight. A derisive look of satisfaction shone on his jagged features. So the African-American does not like me so much now, after she has been able to compare me to that younger brother of mine and Ulysses. Well, I intend to have some of whatever has gotten Rodney so riled up. As a matter of fact, I am sure after our little discussion today, he will not be giving her a second thought. Basil's features turned even darker. Rodney does not have the right to anything on this island without my permission. I am the oldest Sharpe. The only one who has paid his dues in blood, and I will never allow Melanie or Rodney to forget that. He looked up into the night sky.

As for Ulysses, I have heard the rumors. The servants say he has an eye for Nadine Clayton. That is why having my way with her behind his back will be that much sweeter. What I intend to do with his African-American diversion will not leave any visible evidence. At least not if I am careful.

Basil wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Just thinking about his intentions caused his manhood to rise. It never failed. All he needed was a new object for his obsessions and it worked like a charm. Instead of going up the limestone staircase Basil took a detour. He had decided to make a quick visit to the row of houses on the outskirts of the Sharpe Hall property line. There, a mixture of workers, some of the less fortunate Bajans and Blacks, made their homes.