When the Splendor Falls (69 page)

“Even though I am not in total darkness any longer, I am still blind, Leigh. What if my sight doesn’t improve beyond this?” he asked without bitterness, and hearing the sigh of unhappiness she couldn’t control, he smiled. “It wouldn’t be fair to get everyone’s hopes up too high. I want to wait to tell them when I can see their expression, and
only
then, Leigh.”

“I wish you’d tell Lys Helene. She should know before anyone else, even me,” Leigh told him.

“Why?”

“Well…I thought…I mean, aren’t you—”

“In love with Lys Helene?” Guy scoffed. “Why should I be? She’s a very nice young woman. She has been very kind to me. She’s like a…a sister to me,” he hastened to say, and even though he couldn’t see Leigh’s expression, or meet the questioning glance in her eyes, he looked away guiltily.

“Kind? She’s in love with you, Guy,” Leigh told him bluntly, wanting to reach out and pinch him to bring him to his senses.

“Is she? I think she pities me. She’s even more softhearted than you. I’m like one of her sickly plants that needs a little more attention. That’s all. Nothing more than that. How could there be? I’m blind. Why should she think herself in love with me? Good Lord, can’t the woman get a whole man? What’s wrong with her, Leigh, that she should want to spend all of her time with a helpless cripple who can’t even see what she looks like?” Guy demanded angrily.

“She is in love with you,” Leigh told him quietly. “You may not be able to see the expression in her eyes, but I can.”

“That’s just it, Leigh. I cannot see. And if I do regain my sight, then maybe I wouldn’t like what I saw. And when I’m able to feed myself, and dress myself, and walk around without a guide, then there will be no reason any longer for her to hang around me,” he spoke harshly, pressing his hand over his eyes as if suffering another attack. Then he glanced up, staring blindly toward the door. “What was that? I thought I heard something in the hall.”

“Probably just one of your hounds trying to get in. They sneak in whenever a door is left open, especially in the kitchens. And even though Lupe yells at them, they always seem to have a soup bone or a tortilla in their mouths when they come racing out,” Leigh said, glancing back at the door. It was partly opened, but she didn’t see any of the pack trying to nose their way inside. “It was just the breeze moving the door,” she said, turning back to Guy and staring at him in puzzlement. “I truly do not understand you, Guy,” Leigh said in exasperation.

“Don’t you?”

“No, you sound like the old Guy, who was very careless about the feelings of others. I seem to remember you once prided yourself on all the hearts you’d broken.”

“‘The old Guy,’” he repeated softly, as if that man were a stranger to him. “The old Guy Travers, although not an especially nice man at times, which I deeply regret, did have three advantages over this Guy Travers. He had his sight. He had his wealth, whether it was from an inheritance, or from the money he would earn in his law practice one day, which meant he could support himself in very fine style. And he had his home. A very treasured home. The home he was born in. Travers Hill was where I’d hoped to take my bride, and raise my future family. I no longer possess any of those advantages, my dear, and so I have no future. Or had you forgotten that?”

“Guy.”

“No, it is the truth. Apparently, I can see that more clearly than you. I live here at Royal Rivers on charity because I am your brother. You are a Braedon now, not a Travers any longer, and you are a part of this family. I am still a Travers, even if I have nothing. And unless I regain my sight, I will always be an invalid. And even were I to become sighted again, what could I possibly offer a woman, especially Lys Helene? My prospects are rather limited. We lost everything. And even if Adam paid the taxes on Travers Hill, what about next time? Where will I get the money when we’ve no horses to sell, and the fields are lying fallow or were burned? There is nothing. I doubt I would ever be able to keep Lys Helene in the style she is accustomed to,
and not as I once would have were she to become my wife
,” he said beneath his breath. “I will not embarrass either of us by asking her to marry me. And I dare say Nathaniel would be less than pleased to give me permission to marry his daughter. Probably think I’m a fortune hunter, and throw me out of his house and into the dust as fast as that fancy hat sailing off that fellow on the stage you told me about.”

“And what happens if you don’t regain your sight?” Leigh asked him, wanting him to face reality now. “You cannot deny that you had begun to accept that, and that you have been thinking about—”

“About marrying?” Guy concluded for her, unable to conceal the bitterness in his voice.

“Yes! You’re a young man. You’ve a whole life ahead of you. Do you want to spend it alone?”

“Oh, Leigh, of course not. I have dreams. I may have lost my sight, but not my masculinity. I still have a man’s needs. Lys Helene is a woman. Her body is fragrant and soft. Her hair, when a curl touched my cheek, was silken. Of course I’ve desired her, but that doesn’t mean I’ve ever thought about marriage. I will not ask her, or any woman, to marry me,” he said, his jaw set in that familiar line of stubbornness that reminded Leigh of their father when he’d set his mind to something.

“Travers pride,” she said.

“Still got that, have I?” he asked, smiling slightly.

“Yes, and you may come to regret it.”

“Oh? And you, have you thought about your Travers pride?” he countered.

“I thought you said I was now a Braedon?” she returned, the old sparring coming easily between them.

“In name, my dear, but you’ll always have your Travers pride. It’s in the blood. But what happens when your husband returns?”

Leigh glanced away this time.

“You are married, whatever the reason for that marriage. You were our sacrificial lamb, and now you must accept that fate. There’s no going back for you, Leigh. You do realize that, don’t you?”

“Maybe I don’t wish to go back.”

“To being Leigh Travers? Or to Virginia?”

“To both, maybe,” Leigh said, standing and walking over to the window to stare out at the mountains.

“You love it here, don’t you?” he asked suddenly, not sounding surprised.

“I’m not certain why, but I do. I loved Virginia, and I miss Travers Hill, sometimes so much I ache. And yet, I don’t think I could bear to go back, to see the destruction, to know that everyone I loved is gone. At the same time though, I’m not unhappy here. I don’t feel as if I’m in exile. In fact, I’ve never felt quite so…so, ah, I don’t know,” Leigh said, shrugging.

“I do. You feel free out here. You always were the rebel. You’ve never been like Althea, who has always been happy sitting on the veranda doing embroidery or sketching, visiting friends and gossiping, or comparing recipes and the latest fashions, or when the conversation lulled, discussing politics and literature. She’s quite bright, even if she pretends to have no interest beyond her home and family. I don’t think she ever felt restless. And little Lucy, although she was more like you, and she managed to get herself into trouble too many times to count, she was just high-spirited, like a long-legged colt, and she was usually following in your footsteps. She always seemed to find the fullest enjoyment in whatever she was doing, or wherever she was. Always so full of life, our Lucy. She would have been happy anywhere. And she accepted who she was. She was never searching for something else. But you, Leigh, you never seemed contented. I’m not saying you were not happy, just that you were not fulfilled. And, sometimes, I wonder if you would have found your happiness with Matthew Wycliffe. You would have been mistress of your own home in Charleston, had all your heart could possibly have desired, including a loving husband and, eventually, a family, but I think you would still have been searching for something elusive. I can’t see you having tea and gossiping with your pampered lady friends everyday, or standing for hours being stuck with pins while you were fitted for the countless gowns Matthew would have bought you. Half the time at Travers Hill you walked around in that old, faded muslin of yours. I’ve never seen anyone so careless of fashion, and yet you always looked so lovely. You said I enjoyed breaking hearts, well, I think you enjoyed scandalizing people in the county. I can remember our mother saying how she hoped your few years at finishing school would turn you into a proper young lady—declaring it was your only salvation if you were to make a brilliant match. But whenever she’d receive those numerous reports from this Madame Something-or-other, she would begin to fan herself in growing agitation, as if about to swoon, then, with Jolie in tow, retire to her bedchamber with a migraine. Father threatened to call the woman out for upsetting his household so, muttering about the excitable French, and somehow never finding your behavior at fault. He was always proud of you. He loved your spirit, just like one of his little fillies, he used to say. But I’m not certain Matthew, much as he would have loved you, would have understood your flaunting of convention. And you’re no different now. I’ve heard about your riding astride, and wearing those ‘baggy breeches she’s worn in public’ an’ causin’ the Misses Simone an’ Clarice to swoon,” he mimicked.

“You’ve been talking to Jolie,” Leigh said, but her expression was solemn as she thought about what Guy had said. She’d never realized how perceptive he was. She’d misjudged him, even during the long, lazy days of summer at Travers Hill, when she’d thought he never noticed anything other than his own pleasures.

“Jolie’s been talking, I’ve been listening. Which I happen to do very well nowadays.”

Leigh smiled, but her lips were stiff. “Sometimes, I used to feel like the mares in the pasture. Fenced in, grazing on sweet grass while I waited for my time to foal. I had no choice, and I would have done what was expected of me. But I was tempted one morning to set those fat, lazy mares free. That wouldn’t have been fair, though, because that was the only life they knew, and it wasn’t a bad one. They were well fed and treated kindly, and beloved by Papa. The only thing they didn’t have was their freedom. That’s the way I felt sometimes. It wasn’t that I didn’t like my life, it was wonderful. And I would have married Matthew, and I would have been happy with him. And I promised myself that I’d make life for my family at Wycliffe Hall as happy as mine had been at Travers Hill. Those were wonderful days. And I vowed I would never become a society matron, forgetful of everything but what was considered proper. When I was little, I can remember climbing the tallest tree in the apple orchard and looking toward the Shenandoah. The mountains were so blue in the distance, shrouded in that veil of mist that drifted down into the valleys early in the mornings, and I used to wonder what lay beyond. Was that wrong of me, Guy?”

“No,” he said, his words hardly more than a whisper, for he now knew the frustration she must have felt.

“I don’t know how many times I’ve stood here at Royal Rivers, just watching the thunderclouds building over the highest peaks. And I can ride across the lower slopes, into the forests where the pines tower above the spruce and mountain mahogany. The air is so fresh and pure, especially after an afternoon shower, when everything has been washed clean. And I can ride for miles, Guy, without ever meeting another soul, without being questioned about my activities. In Virginia, I’d always meet someone, or be seen riding across a pasture by a nosy neighbor, and I’d know that before I reached home, they would already have visited and told Mama that one of her daughters had been seen riding bareback or wading barefoot along the riverbank. I can do what I want to here, Guy. You may not be able to understand, because you’ve always done as you pleased because you’re a man. Things are different for a woman. Propriety says I must ride sidesaddle, even though I ride astride far easier, and far more safely, especially in this rough terrain. So astride is the way I have chosen to ride. I value my neck more than I do adhering to outmoded customs that might get me killed. Survival dictates in this land, not fashion. And after their initial shock at my appearance, even the Misses Simone and Clarice have come to accept that life is different out here—even for women. There is a freedom here I’ve never known. And yet, I’ve never done anything I cannot be proud of. I’ve not tarnished the Travers name, nor the name of Braedon. And just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I don’t have any pride or common sense.”

“I’m not certain I would have understood once, but now—now that I can’t do as I would like—I think I can understand how you might have felt,” Guy said, remembering the many times he’d ridden across the fields, forgetful of everything but his hunter clearing the hedge, and never giving a thought to Leigh, who would have been sitting back at the house, occupied in womanly pursuits. “And what happens when Neil returns?” he asked again. “He is used to doing things his way too. And he is a hard man. He’s different from Matthew, or some of your other beaus, whom you could have wrapped around your little finger. You are Mrs. Neil Braedon. He may wish, and I truly cannot blame him, for a real marriage. Don’t forget that. He has his pride too, my dear, and he may not be as indulgent of your newfound freedom.”

“I haven’t forgotten that we are man and wife, but maybe someone else has. And maybe Neil will also wish to forget,” Leigh murmured, forgetting how sharp Guy’s hearing had become.

“Diosa?”

“She may have more of a claim to Neil than I do, Guy.”

“There is one advantage to being blind, and that is that you have to listen very carefully to what people are saying. You cannot know by their expressions if they are smiling, frowning, teasing, or lying. I sit and I listen, and I hear nuances in people’s voices that they are completely unaware of. And I have heard a note of fear in Diosa’s. She isn’t as sure of herself where Neil is concerned as she would have you believe, Leigh. I believe your marriage came as a very unpleasant shock to her. And since I know how beautiful a woman my sister is, and Diosa is not blind, she too must suspect that as the reason why Neil married you. Don’t let her jealous lies, or her own wistful memories, ruin the chance you and Neil may have to make this marriage of yours work.”