When the Splendor Falls (27 page)

“True, but you’re mistaken about Matthew Wycliffe, Neil. Were it any other man, I might be inclined to agree with you, for it is not unknown for a man to take advantage of a situation in order to strengthen his suit with a lady. But Wycliffe is no scoundrel. In truth, he is the most honorable gentleman of my acquaintance,” he admitted, and Nathan was an excellent judge of character, and his approbation and respect were not given unless well deserved. “I’ve never met so high-principled a man. In all of his business and personal dealings, with those of his own station, and even with those who do the most menial work for him, he is evenhanded, generous, in fact, to a fault. I have never heard even a breath of scandal attached to his name.”

“Obviously a paragon,” Neil said.

“Some have said as much. You might think, and with every reason, that a man like Wycliffe, with his family name, which is highly respected, his fortune, which is vast, and his appearance, which has made him the most eligible bachelor in the South, would be supercilious, and yet he is one of the most unpretentious people I know. He and Guy Travers, one of Leigh’s brothers, have been friends for years. And he has most kindly recommended, without expecting anything in return, my law practice to friends of his who have need of legal advice here in Virginia. Mrs. Travers is from Charleston, and they visit relatives there quite often, and Leigh attended finishing school in Charleston, so when Leigh moves to South Carolina with Matthew, she will not be without her family and friends. I can honestly state that I cannot think of anyone I would rather see Leigh marry than Wycliffe. I’m very fond of her. She’s quite a young woman.”

“Yes, so it would seem,” Neil said softly. “She is very beautiful. In fact, the whole family would seem to have been so blessed.”

Nathan smiled, glancing over at his wife as he nodded his agreement. “Unfortunately, that is also the biggest cause of Guy Travers’s problems. Things, and people, come too easily to him. He doesn’t have to work hard enough to get what he wants,” Nathan said, voicing his first criticism of the Travers family.

Neil smiled. “I had the distinct impression that he took an instant dislike to me.”

Nathan frowned. “I had hoped you would not have noticed.”

“It was rather hard not to when everything Adam said about my years with the Comanche, the stories of which even I admit have become highly exaggerated over the years and many a retelling, was questioned and dismissed by Travers as lies.”

“I’d hoped you wouldn’t take offense, either. Guy can’t stand to be bested. For a good bit of his life he has heard Adam’s and my tales of you. I’m afraid you’ve become a bit of a legend around here, Neil. Guy is competitive. And he can ride as well as anyone I’ve ever seen, except for you, and one other,” he said, laughing as if at a private jest. “He knows that, and he’s jealous of you. Don’t be surprised if he challenges you to a race to prove who is the better rider, because unless you beat him, he’ll never accept it, and even then he’ll probably find a good excuse to explain his loss. Guy also loves to bet, too much for his own good. It is a pity, because, if given the right opportunity, Guy could become a fine man one day,” Nathan added, wondering what on earth could change the course of that young man’s life. “But Leigh, now Leigh is different. You’ve never seen her ride,” Nathan said with a wide grin of pleasure, “but the wind couldn’t catch her.”

“No, but it would seem as if Matthew Wycliffe has,” Neil said, smiling slightly as Nathan laughed at his remark and turned the conversation to other, far more important subjects, but try as he may, Neil could not banish quite so easily the image of Leigh Travers from his mind—or his heart.

Ten

The wicked are wicked, no doubt, and they go astray and they fall, and they come by their deserts; but who can tell the mischief which the very virtuous do?

William Makepeace Thackeray

Friday. It was the day of Blythe Lucinda Travers’s sixteenth birthday party. Leigh glanced up at the house. She could see the veranda, crowded with people milling about. Some gentlemen were lounging on the steps, while others sat more decorously on benches and chairs close to the ladies, and the refreshments were being served by the green-clad majordomo and his elite troop of footmen, who seemed to be at every elbow at just the right moment with another tall julep or pale lemonade. The droning sound of voices, raised in chatter and laughter, drifted to Leigh across the gardens. The household was in a turmoil, with her mother and Jolie meeting themselves coming and going as they tried to stay a step ahead of the countless, last-minute details that suddenly popped up. Since midweek, carriages had been pulling up every few minutes and unloading family and friends to be settled in the guest wings, the unattached gentlemen placed in the rambling, genteel quarters between the house and the stables. Even Guy and Palmer William had given up their rooms to take up temporary residence with the other bachelors, where their late-night hours, filled with drinking and gambling and, perchance, vulgar jesting, might not disturb the more refined of the guests and their families visiting Travers Hill.

But this afternoon, Leigh had escaped it all to wander down to the paddock, where the only disturbing sounds were those of softly neighing mares and the gentle thudding of hooves as their foals galloped playfully around the meadow, perhaps sensing, with a quick sniff in the air, the last days of summer were approaching all too quickly. In the cool shade of an oak, Leigh stood leaning against the split-railed fence.

Neil Darcy Braedon.
That was the stranger’s name—not Dagger, as Adam had been so quick to tell her. His cousin. And no stranger, as she had mistakenly thought, nor a common ranch hand, as Adam had claimed. And not a man easily dismissed by anyone. But then, she hadn’t been Rose, the servant, either. And had the tables not been turned so suddenly and surprisingly on her, she might have enjoyed the discomfiture that had momentarily flickered across his hard face when she’d descended the stairs and been introduced to him as one of the Travers family. Adam, however, had certainly enjoyed his little jest, and she’d hoped he would choke on his laughter all the way home to Royal Bay.

That had been four days ago, but her anger flared briefly again as she remembered Adam’s grinning face and the endlessness of that day, at least until Nathan and Althea, accompanied by Adam and their cousin, had left for Royal Bay. Neil Braedon had held an adoring Noelle in his arms as he’d made his polite farewells. Far too young and innocent to realize the danger of the man, Noelle had grinned down at everyone from her superior position above their heads. Holding out her arms to each of them, she’d demanded her customary hug and kiss, which Neil Braedon had generously allowed her by bending slightly to each person so she could wrap her short arms around their necks. Leigh had received her tight hug and smacking kiss from her niece, but it had seemed to her heightened senses as if Neil Braedon’s face had come far closer to hers when he bent down, bringing their lips embarrassingly close for just a moment, their eyes locking above Noelle’s dark head, before she was released and could step away, her heart pounding. She hadn’t seen any of them since, except for Althea when she’d come calling with Euphemia Braedon two days later.

She didn’t care that he hadn’t come back to Travers Hill, that he had obviously found far more interesting things to do with his time, Leigh told herself for not the first time that week, wondering why she felt insulted by his actions. She suspected she felt exactly the way the serving girl he’d mistook her for would have when her gentleman lover had failed to return after enjoying her favors. How differently he had acted toward her before discovering she was a Travers, pursuing her ruthlessly, tracking her down, and trying to seduce her. But as soon as he’d learned she was no serving wench to be bedded and abandoned, his ardor had cooled considerably. Obviously, Neil Braedon was a man who took his pleasures without wishing to be held accountable for them. She would no longer be of interest to him now, she thought, wondering why that made her feel so angry, and so humiliated. Neil Braedon was nothing to her—nothing. So why should it trouble her, hurt her so, that he hadn’t come near her since that day. He’d wanted only a dalliance with her, a quick tumble in the hay, those had been his own casually spoken words. To have sought her out, to have offered her an apology for his actions, to have learned more about Leigh Travers, to have befriended her, had not interested him. No, once he had realized that she would say nothing of their embarrassing encounter, he must have heaved a great sigh of relief. Yes, that was the manner of man this Neil Braedon, this Sun Dagger, was.

Of course, she had heard all about the Braedons’ cousin from the territories that first day when he’d sat in the parlor of Travers Hill, his gentlemanly demeanor almost proving false the colorful stories Adam had entertained them with concerning his cousin’s unusual childhood. And despite herself, and pretending polite interest, she’d listened avidly to Adam’s talk of his cousin’s kidnapping by the Comanche, and the never-ending pursuit by Neil’s father to rescue him and his sister Shannon. And even if Guy’s questions had bordered on rudeness, his guffaws of skepticism becoming embarrassing after a while, he’d managed to elicit a great deal of information. But Blythe had more than made up for her brother’s lack of hospitality by her enthusiastic insistence on knowing every detail of Neil’s life. And he had been very patient in his good-natured answers to Blythe, even when she’d asked the awkward question about his dead wife, demanding to know if it had been the Comanche who had left her stranded in the canyon. Even Adam had had the grace to look slightly apologetic for ever having brought the subject up. But Leigh hadn’t been able to forget the expression that had crossed Neil’s face when he’d been reminded of his dead wife. It had been one of pained remembrance, and Leigh had known then that he must have loved her deeply, still loved her, and no other woman would ever be able to replace her in his heart.

And for the last few days, even though she’d not seen the man, her curiosity about him had been satisfied again as Guy had regaled her with stories about the legendary Braedon cousin from the territories. Guy had ridden to hounds at Royal Bay and Evergreens. He was one of the best huntsmen in the county and he and his prized hounds were sought after for every hunt. He’d joined the shoot at River Oaks Farm, and after each day’s sport, he’d enjoyed a night of gambling and drinking with his gentlemen friends and their guests, among them Neil. Unfortunately, at least as far as Guy had been concerned, he’d held the losing hand far too often and lost heavily, and most often to Neil, which had angered him all the more, and Guy was as quick-tempered as their father. Leigh suspected had it not been for the calming influence of Adam, and a restraining hand gently yet firmly placed, her brother would have been guilty of accusing Neil of cheating, for he claimed no gentleman’s luck could hold for so long.
If
he played fair, that was.

“Hello, little sister,” a voice spoke behind her, startling Leigh from her thoughts. “Escaped the madness?”

“Stuart James,” Leigh said, smiling as he approached her from the stables.

“I thought I’d find you either with the horses in the stables or out here watching them. Your position keeps you rather well hidden from view. Which, I suspect, was your intention when coming this way.”

“I confess, ’tis true,” Leigh said, laughing with him as they both stared at the crowd on the veranda, neither in a hurry to return there.

“I can scarcely believe that little Lucy is sixteen. She has grown a foot or more since I moved to Willow Creek. She seems all leg.”

“I think she fears she will grow even taller than I am,” Leigh said a trifle self-consciously, for although Stuart James was taller than Guy, he wasn’t all that much taller than she was.

“You needn’t worry, little chestnut-top,” he said, using his old nickname for her, “for you’ve grown into one of the most beautiful and charming women I know, and,” he added, a twinkle in his brown eyes, “quite a bit shorter than Matthew Wycliffe.”

Leigh glanced up, startled.

“You cannot keep such news a secret for long. I heard nothing but talk of your upcoming nuptials when in Richmond. I was quite offended to hear the news while walking along the street, and minding my own business, and from some strange woman who was wearing the most amazing bonnet. I could neither confirm nor deny her claim since I’d not been informed of the glad tidings by my own family. She was quite indignant about the whole affair. I thought her husband was going to call me out and demand satisfaction.”

“Richmond? A woman on the street?”

Stuart James nodded. “I suspect Aunt Maribel Lu’s fine hand. There is nothing she cannot ferret out once she gets the scent. She has a great many friends in Charleston, including several of Matthew Wycliffe’s aunts.”

“But there is nothing to announce yet.”

“A small matter as far as everyone else is concerned.”

“Well, it is very important as far as I am concerned. It will be the most important decision of my life, and yet I am beginning to feel as if I have nothing to say in the matter at all,” Leigh pondered aloud, wondering why she felt as if it were someone else who was contemplating marriage to Matthew and not herself. Suddenly life seemed so much more complicated than it had just a week ago.

“How very embarrassing for everyone, especially those who have already planned on attending the wedding and spent too much on their gowns, if Matthew doesn’t ask for my hand in marriage,” Leigh said, forcing herself to laugh.

Stuart James shook his head. “He will ask.”

Leigh eyed him thoughtfully. He was thinner than he had been when last she’d seen him, and the lines were deeper around his mouth, but Stuart James had always been serious and reserved, not carefree and quick to laugh like Guy.

“You seem very certain.”

“I am. I hope you will not be offended by what I am about to say, and please do not be angry with him, but Matthew could not hide his feelings for you when he accompanied us from Richmond. In fact, every other word he spoke was either your name or something about you, and ’twas quite obvious he is very much in love with you. And the only time I saw him actually become impatient was when there was a delay in our leaving Richmond. I really thought he was going to raise his voice when Aunt Maribel Lu couldn’t get all of those hat boxes in the carriage. So I thought, as your elder brother, that I should find out his intentions, which were indeed honorable, since he told me he would be asking Father for your hand in marriage this weekend. And although he did seem hopeful that you would accept,” he added quickly, lest his sister misunderstand, “he was not in the least boastful, in fact, he was quite diffident about it all. I do like him, Leigh, and would be pleased to see you wed him, but only if it is what will make you happy.”