The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse? (25 page)

BOOK: The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse?
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Lexie excused herself as the men got to work, coming and going as they worked on the repairs. She tried to stay out of their way and strolled throughout the house. Russell said he’d seen someone in the house the night before, moving from room to room. No wonder there were rumors about the house being haunted. If she believed in such things, it might make more sense.

If only the house could talk to her, tell her who’d been there and what they were doing. Then it would truly be haunted. But she was convinced she had overlooked some clue she hadn’t seen yet, something she hadn’t remembered. She strained to think, but nothing came to her. No need to hang around and bother the men, though. She went to tell
them she was leaving and found Sam back in the kitchen, loading some things onto the dumbwaiter.

“Glad you have this thing here. It sure helps get stuff upstairs. This old back of mine hurts when I have to lift things and carry them up steps.”

“So the dumbwaiter is working?”

Sam tugged on the pulley, and the metal basket rose, emitting a soft creak. “Yep. Hardly makes any noise now.”

“Well, I’m glad it can help. I’m leaving now. Please let me or Mr. Thompson know if you come across any more things that should be fixed.”

“Will do.” Sam touched the bill of his hat in reply.

Lexie strolled back toward the clubhouse, enjoying the Georgia sun on the warm winter day. She’d been on the island two weeks already but wasn’t any closer to selling the house. If anything, she’d delayed the sale. The time wasn’t right yet. The house wasn’t ready and frankly, neither was she. She had expected to see the house, sign the papers, and leave within a few days. But she’d discovered she wasn’t as afraid of the island as she’d expected, and, in fact, had enjoyed being there, probably due to Russell’s light-hearted companionship. If he hadn’t been around, her impression of the island might be more somber.

“Hello! Alexandra!” A familiar voice rang out from the grand lawn.

She turned as Floyd hurried over to meet her. Another man fashionably dressed in white trousers with an argyle vest and white shirt followed him.

“Hello, Floyd.” Lexie’s gaze fell on the guy that accompanied Floyd, her heart dropping as recognition registered. The hatless wavy blond hair, parted and combed to perfection and accenting the chiseled, tanned face, was the same.

“Alexandra, I want to introduce you to my cousin Spencer Bardwell.”

Cousin? Oh yes, she knew Spencer but had no idea he and Floyd were related. Hard to believe they were from the same family tree.

“Actually, we’ve met.” Lexie tried to avert her eyes from Floyd’s handsome cousin.

“Nice to see you again, Alexandra. When Floyd told me you were here, I couldn’t believe my luck!” The man’s pearly white teeth gleamed like a movie star poster.

Lexie raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” Since when would running into her be lucky? He must’ve forgotten that he had dropped her like a
hot potato for her college roommate.

“Say, how about joining us for a bite of lunch?”

Before she had a chance to reply, the two men bordered her on either side and herded her toward the clubhouse. When they reached the front steps, Bernon Prentice approached with an extended hand.

“Spencer! So glad you could make it.” He shook Spencer’s hand, clapping him on the back with the other. “Our tennis tournament wouldn’t be the same without you.”

So that’s why he was at Jekyll. She should’ve known the top-ranked tennis player wasn’t there for lawn bowling.

“Glad I could come. Uncle Sam doesn’t require my services yet.”

“Maybe you can get Miss Smithfield to hit a few with you. I’ve been trying to talk her into a game ever since she arrived.”

Spencer grinned at Lexie. “Sure. Why don’t we play this afternoon?”

Her head spun. “This afternoon? I…”

“Don’t tell me you have other plans. Come on, it’ll be fun—like old times.” He winked at her and her insides quivered. Like old times.

“I’m afraid I didn’t bring my tennis clothes.”

Spencer looked her up and down, and Lexie’s temperature rose from her toes to her face.

“You look like you’re the same size as my sister. I’ll send over one of her outfits. What room are you in?”

“Two fourteen, but…”

“Swell! I’ll have the concierge go to our apartment in the Annex and tell our man to bring an outfit over. It’ll be in your room when we finish lunch.”

“And I have plenty of racquets for you to use.” Prentice grinned at her, then faced Spencer. “What time do you expect to play? I’ll make sure a court is reserved.”

Spencer checked his gleaming gold watch. “Two o’clock.”

“You got it.” Prentice slapped Spencer on the back again and headed off in the direction of the tennis courts.

Despite feeling railroaded into playing, a bubble of excitement forced itself up into her, suppressing the urge to resist. She hadn’t played tennis with Spencer since her freshman year, and the former excitement reappeared, hoping to relive itself. What could it hurt?

During lunch, Spencer regaled Lexie with funny tales about his tennis escapades across the country. After transferring from Yale to Stanford, Lexie had only heard bits and pieces of his life and hadn’t
known what was truth and what was rumor. He’d become the captain of the Stanford tennis team before going pro, earning a spot at the top of the tennis circuit. At lunch, Floyd and Lexie barely got a word in the conversation, but she didn’t mind. Handsome as ever, and entertaining as well, he provided a welcome distraction from the troublesome events around her. She detected boredom in Floyd, but he smiled and chuckled while his charming cousin rambled.

Spencer garnered the attention of every female in the room, a fact he was well aware of, making sure he spoke loudly enough for others to hear. Lexie heard giggles coming from neighboring tables as the younger women enjoyed the show he presented. A couple of them were even bold enough to approach him and ask for his autograph. He flashed a brilliant smile at the girls while they tittered and gushed. Had she ever been so obviously smitten at one time? She hoped not. She never would make such a spectacle of herself over anyone. A flicker of pride tickled her conscience though, since she had the privilege of sitting at his table.

When they rose from the table and left the dining room, Spencer grabbed her hand and planted a kiss on it. “M’lady, I’ll take my leave now and meet you on yon courts at two bells.”

Heat invaded Lexie’s face. Smiling, she pulled her hand away and gave him a playful shove. As she turned to go up the stairs, she glimpsed Russell’s back disappearing around the landing above. Had he found out anything yet? She checked the grandfather clock in the hallway, noting she had little time to change and get to the courts by two. She’d have to catch up with Russell later.

Right now, she had a handsome man to meet on the tennis courts. A quiver of excitement rippled through her. She hadn’t played in a year and was eager to get the exercise. But that didn’t explain the feeling of anticipation. Did she expect a chance to renew their relationship? Even though she’d been hurt when he ditched her for another girl, the old attraction still pulled at her.

She found the white blouse and skirt hanging in her room, and Spencer was right—they were just her size. She threw them on and tied a scarf around her hair, then grabbed her sweater and headed out to the tennis courts, perhaps too eager to see her old flame again.

Chapter 28

R
ussell stomped back up the stairs and slammed the door to his office. Spencer Bardwell was back. Blast it! And back to his old tricks too—trying to dazzle women with his charm and good looks. One glance at him sitting in the dining room jabbering for all to hear had soured Russell’s stomach. And Lexie was sitting with him!

Sure, he was a top tennis player and great publicity for the tournament, but his ethics were repulsive. The way he toyed with women was disrespectful, dishonest, and downright wrong. Russell knew of several whose reputation Spencer had sullied. Russell paced the floor, his blood pulsating his temples. And now Spencer had set his sights on Lexie as his next conquest. Russell pounded his fist into his other hand. Surely, she could see through his charade, his flamboyant tactics. Couldn’t she?

He opened his desk drawer where he’d stashed a pack of Lucky Strikes. He grabbed the pack and pulled out a cigarette. Although he’d promised Lexie he’d quit, what difference did it make now? Did she even notice? He picked up the matchbook, tore off a match, and struck it on the edge of the book. He watched the flame burn almost to his fingers, then blew it out. No. He wouldn’t do it. Maybe Lexie didn’t care about his promise, but he knew he’d given his word—and so did God.

Cool air. He needed to cool off. Stepping out onto the balcony, he lifted his head and inhaled the crisp air, then lowered his gaze and surveyed the panorama of the grounds, trying to calm down. He studied the people on the Grand Lawn, calling each one by name in his mind. As he looked to his left, he saw Lexie striding away from the building. Where was she going?

Then it dawned on him. She was wearing a tennis outfit. His gut twisted, knowing she was probably going to play with Spencer. He shouldn’t be surprised. After all, she played on her college team, so it was only natural for her to play with Spencer. Plus, it was really none of his business anyway. But it was. He had to protect her from being hurt
or mistreated, protect her from wolves like Spencer Bardwell. If Russell had a sister, he’d want someone to keep the creeps away. Robert would want him to do that for Lexie too.

He closed his eyes.
Lord, help me do the right thing for Lexie. Please open her eyes to the truth about Spencer and not let her get hurt
.

But how could he warn her without intruding into her business?

A knock on the door brought him in off the balcony. He crossed the room and opened it to admit two officers from the Coast Guard.

Lexie leaned against the fence, sipping her Coca-Cola.

Beside her, Spencer gulped his drink before lifting the bottle like a toast. “You sure gave me a run for my money. Your game’s gotten better.”

“Not quite as good as yours, though. Plus I haven’t played in a year.” Of course, he was the better player and had won, but she’d tried to make him work for it.

“So you ready for another set? I’ll give you a chance to even the score.” Spencer winked as his grin spread across his face.

Her face warmed. “I’m still pretty rusty, you know.”

“Are you making excuses? Come on, you’re not giving up yet, are you?”

Lexie put a hand on her hip. “Who said anything about giving up? All right, one more set.”

Soon they were at it again, each trying to put more spin on the ball and run their opponent around the court. As Lexie retrieved an errant ball, she noticed Russell standing nearby, watching them. His arms were crossed over his chest like he was assessing the situation. She lifted her hand and waved. He nodded back, a faint smile curving his lips. Wonder if he had something to tell her?

Her focus diverted, she double-faulted her serve. Great. Did she have to look like a beginner while he watched?

When the set was over, Lexie walked over to him.

“Hi, Russell. Sorry you had to see me get soundly beaten.”

“I thought you played well.”

“She’s got great form, don’t you think, Russ?” Spencer joined them, boasting a wide grin.

A nerve in Russell’s neck twitched. “Hello, Spencer. Welcome back.” Russell’s voice was flat.

“Do you play tennis, Russell?” Lexie tried to include him.

Russell’s face flushed. “No, that’s one sport I don’t play.”

“Guess that bum foot gets you off-balance. Yeah, you better stick to a sport less rigorous, like golf.” Spencer laughed at his effort to make a joke.

Lexie jerked her head toward him. How insensitive. She glanced back at Russell, afraid she’d see pain in his eyes. Instead, he stuffed his hands in his trouser pockets and glared at Spencer.

“You don’t play golf, do you, Spencer?” Russell challenged the tennis player.

“Oh, I’ve knocked the little white ball around a few times, but golf’s too slow for me.” He nudged Russell with his elbow. “I like fast sports, you know.”

“So I’ve heard.” The nerve in Russell’s neck wiggled.

BOOK: The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse?
7.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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