The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse? (26 page)

She looked back and forth as the two men sparred. Neither seemed to think well of the other. She needed to break up this verbal duel.

“Russell, did you have something to tell me—about the cottage?”

Russell didn’t answer, as if waiting for Spencer to leave. Spencer took the hint.

“Hey. If you two are going to talk business, I’ll be on my way.” Spencer grabbed his racquet. “Really enjoyed playing with you today, Alex.”

“My friends call me ‘Lexie’.” Didn’t he know that?

“Right. So, Lexie, I’ll see you later. Would you like to play tomorrow?”

She glanced at Russell to see if he had other plans for her, but his clenched jaw didn’t move.

“Sure. Let’s play before lunch, though.”

“Swell. I’ll tell Bernon.” Spencer flashed his confident grin and strode off.

Lexie and Russell watched Spencer walk away, then she spun around to face him with her hands on her hips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Russell stared over her head as if focused beyond her.

“You act angry.”

“I’m not angry.” He glanced down at her face and his shoulders relaxed.

Lexie blew out a breath. “If you say so. Well, do you have any news?”

“The workmen aren’t finished. It could take a while. They had to order some more materials.”

“That’s not the kind of news I was referring to, and you know it. What about the noise we heard at the beach? What about the men in the raft that were spotted that night? Have you talked with the Coast Guard?”

“I have.” He looked into her eyes, searching as if he wanted to say more, but held back.

She tilted her head. “Are you going to tell me anything or just leave me in the dark?”

He eased out a breath. “A tanker was torpedoed about fifteen miles east of here. The raft carried a few survivors. Some more were picked up by fishing boats.” He spread his arms. “That’s all I know.”

“All you know?” Lexie’s voice rose.

Russell put his finger in front of his mouth. “Shhh. Lexie, I’m telling you confidentially. The Coast Guard doesn’t want the word to get out.”

“But why not? Don’t we have a right to know?”

He shrugged and sighed. “The authorities believe civilians are better off not knowing these things. It could only cause panic.”

“That’s ridiculous. What authorities—the Coast Guard?”

“From what I understand, the order comes all the way from the top.”

“The President?”

Russell nodded. “That’s what I’m told.”

“So what do we do? Just wait for the Germans like sitting ducks?”

“We go on about our day-to-day lives and let the military deal with military matters.”

Lexie started to argue but clamped her mouth shut. Russell was only doing what he was told, even if he didn’t agree with it. And something told her he didn’t.

“Nice day for tennis.” Russell changed the subject.

“Yes, it is. I haven’t played for a long time.”

“I must admit, I was surprised to see you out here. After all, you refused Bernon’s invitation to play. Guess Spencer Bardwell was more convincing.”

Lexie crossed her arms and stared at him. “What are you saying?” Was he jealous?

His face reddened, and he looked away. “Nothing. Just surprised, that’s all. I mean, you’ve been telling me you don’t have time to enjoy yourself, but it seems that you are.”

Lexie bristled and her temperature began to boil. “You’re right. I had no intention of having fun here. My short business trip has gotten
complicated, forcing me to stay longer. You just told me there will be an additional delay getting the cottage fixed. So what should I do while I wait to finish the job I came to do? Sit and knit or play bridge with the old ladies? Sorry to disappoint you, but I need a little more activity than that.”

She turned on her heel and marched away. The nerve of him questioning her activities. He had carried his over-protection too far. She was an adult and could make her own decisions. Who did he think he was anyway? And she had thought he was such a nice guy. Well, even Russell Thompson had his faults.

Behind her, Russell called out, “Lexie, wait.”

But she was tired of waiting. Tired of other people and things controlling her life. She finally had the freedom to do what she wanted to, and nobody better get in her way. Nobody.

Chapter 29

B
last! That was exactly what he was afraid of. He had overstepped his boundaries. All he’d wanted to do was warn her about Spencer, but his words hadn’t come out right. He’d prayed about it, hadn’t he? Weren’t his motives pure?

Russell strolled back to the clubhouse, studying the ground.
Lord, what should I do now?
He didn’t want Lexie angry with him, but she was, and rightly so. As he neared the clubhouse, raucous laughter came from the billiards room, and he recognized Spencer’s voice. He gritted his teeth, overhearing the cad’s coarse remarks about some woman.

If he talked about Lexie that way, Russell would … what would he do? Challenge him to a duel? Punch him? While it would give him personal satisfaction to deliver justified punishment, such an act would probably backfire on himself. Still, curiosity pulled him to the room. What if he talked about Lexie? Russell had to find out.

Inside, Spencer sat in a leather armchair with his feet propped up on the coffee table as half a dozen other men hovered about, some sitting, others standing. When Russell entered the room, the laughter quieted. Spencer lifted his glass of amber fluid in Russell’s direction.

“Well, if it isn’t our illustrious superintendent! Come on in, Russ, and pour yourself a drink.”

Russell nodded to the other young men present, most of whom seemed too young to drink alcohol. Yet, eager to prove their manhood among their peers, each held a glass. It rankled Russell how Spencer gathered an audience wherever he went. But as he considered those in attendance, he realized how naïve they were. Spencer, the experienced man of the world, represented what they wanted to be—handsome, athletic, popular. They had no idea what he was really like.

“Have a seat and join us.” Spencer motioned to the sofa, whereupon a young man seated there quickly rose to his feet.

“Keep your seat, I’m not staying long.” Russell stuck his hands in his trousers and rocked on his heels. “Thought I’d see who was winning the
pool game, but it looks like no one’s playing.” Thank goodness, he came up with that one.

“Not now, maybe later.” Spencer propped his elbows on the arms of the chair, a cigarette in one hand, and waved the other hand holding the drink. “You looking for a game? I might take you on after I finish this.”

“No, no. I’ll take a rain check on that.” Russell glanced around the room at each of the boyish faces. “Guess you boys won’t hear from the draft board for a while.”

A couple of faces dropped their gazes down to the floor, but one spoke up.

“I’m joining up when we leave the island. I’m not waiting to be drafted.”

Another joined in. “Me too.”

Russell knew the boy’s family and doubted he’d be allowed to sign up until he finished college.

“What’s your hurry?” Spencer said, his words starting to slur. “I have it on good authority this war will be over in no time.”

“Is that what you’re waiting for, Spencer?” Russell knew Spencer’s father was a powerful senator and could probably keep his son from being drafted.

“Well, of course. Aren’t you?” Spencer eyed Russell’s leg. “Oh, never mind. They wouldn’t draft you anyway, would they? They only want
able-bodied
men.”

Russell clenched his jaw as heat flushed his body. It took every bit of his strength to keep from walking across the room and knocking out a few of those gleaming teeth. But he wouldn’t lower himself. He wouldn’t take the bait and give Spencer the satisfaction of knowing he’d gotten under Russell’s skin.

Russell forced a smile. “Well, it’s a good thing we have you here to protect the home front.” He turned to leave, stopping at the door to glance back over his shoulder. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He couldn’t get away from there fast enough. Good thing Lexie’s name didn’t come up. It was one thing to suffer embarrassment over his own shortcomings, but quite another if he’d heard any disparaging remarks about her. He wanted to find her and apologize, but she might not have cooled off yet. He’d never seen her so angry, well not as an adult anyway.

A smile crossed his face at a memory of nine-year-old Lexie stomping away, angry at him and Robert. They were going sailing in Robert’s little
sailboat and wouldn’t let her come with them. She had been furious when they told her she couldn’t go. But Robert knew his mother would die of fright if he let Lexie join them. Russell remembered feeling sorry for her but knew it was for her own good—and her mother’s anxiety.

So she thought he didn’t want her to have fun? On the contrary, he truly wanted her to enjoy life, life without fear. But circumstances since she’d arrived had only contributed to her fears, not removed them. And now he had his own fear—fear that she would be hurt or taken advantage of by Spencer. How could he explain that fear to her—that there were some things one
should
be afraid of?

He glanced up at the second floor of the clubhouse at Lexie’s room. Maybe tomorrow he would have a chance to straighten things out. Sighing, he turned the other way and walked to the chapel.

Lexie called for room service the next morning. She didn’t want to see Russell and was afraid she’d run into him in the dining room again. She still simmered over yesterday’s conversation, and she didn’t want to talk to him—yet. So she’d just avoid him for the time-being. Deep down, she hated being upset with him because she considered him a friend, maybe even a close friend. But his words the day before had hurt, and now she wasn’t sure he was a friend.

After all, he’d challenged her decision, questioned her, making her feel like a little girl who had to explain her actions to an adult. Why was she accountable to Russell for her actions? For the first time in her life, she didn’t have to be accountable to anyone else. Why would he make her feel guilty? And about playing tennis, a sport she really enjoyed. What was wrong with that?

She sipped her tea and nibbled a cold scone. A thought hit her in the chest. Maybe he didn’t want her to play tennis because he couldn’t. She remembered Spencer’s comment about Russell’s leg and worried that his feelings were hurt. So he didn’t want her to play either? She shook her head. That didn’t fit his personality. Selfishness was not one of his characteristics. It just didn’t make sense.

She considered how much time they’d spent together since she’d been on the island. Russell was the one who wanted her to stay longer when she said she expected to leave soon. The time had passed quickly, mainly because she enjoyed his company. Could he be jealous of Spencer? Her
heart beat faster. Of course, Spencer was very handsome, but so was Russell. Yet the two were so different, she couldn’t even compare them.

Someone knocked on her door, and she glanced at her watch. That must be the maid with the tennis clothes she’d dropped off at the laundry yesterday. Still in her chemise and bathrobe, she went to the door and opened it a crack.

The maid Stella held up the hanger with the clothes.

“Your laundry, miss.”

Could the woman manage to smile sometime? She’d certainly improve her looks if she tried.

“Thank you, I was waiting for those.” Lexie opened the door to admit the maid who barely looked at her. “Just lay them on the bed, please.”

Stella did as told and turned to leave, but she stopped and stared wide-eyed at Lexie’s gold necklace. Lexie’s hand instinctively flew to it as the maid’s eyes bore holes through her. Lexie opened the door wide for the woman to leave, hoping she’d take the hint.

“Thank you again,” Lexie said, eager to get dressed and meet Spencer at the tennis courts.

Stella made eye contact with Lexie, then glanced away and hurried out the door. Such a strange woman. No doubt her husband, being a boat captain, was on the lookout for Germans. Could he have seen anything?

Lexie hurried into the outfit, excited to play tennis again. She wouldn’t feel guilty about that. Russell couldn’t spoil one of her favorite activities. She was sorry he couldn’t play, too, but that wasn’t her fault. Surely, he would understand if he tried. And if he didn’t, well, that wasn’t her fault either.