Lady Be Good (35 page)

He shrugged. “Since she won’t have the job long, I suppose it won’t make any difference.”

“What do you mean?”

He regarded her with a self-satisfied smirk. “I’m going to sell the school to a developer, Emma. I believe I mentioned that possibility.”

Her breath came out in a slow hiss. He wanted his revenge, and he knew exactly how to take it. “You miserable worm.”

“I don’t think you have room to call anyone names, you pathetic excuse for a woman. And I’m warning you right now that you’d better keep quiet about your perversion. I won’t have anyone knowing that a lesbian ever served as the headmistress of St. Gert’s.”

She couldn’t do this any longer. She’d lost everything that counted, and at least she would accept defeat as herself and not someone else. “I’m not a lesbian,” she said quietly. “I kissed Torie because I was desperate to get rid of you.”

“You’re lying.”

She took a deep, steadying breath. “If I were a lesbian, I wouldn’t be ashamed of it, but I’m not. I told you from the beginning that I didn’t want to marry you. Not only did you refuse to listen, you blackmailed me.”

“I did no such thing.”

“I don’t know what else you’d call it. You threatened to sell St. Gert’s if I didn’t comply with your wishes. I love that school. You didn’t leave me any other option.”

He drew himself up, and his chest expanded pompously. “You’re deluded! As if I would have to force any woman to marry me. My name is one of the oldest in England.”

Once again she was reminded of how useless it was to argue with him. When it came to his own self-importance, Hugh Holroyd had no match. She fired her final salvo, knowing how flimsy it was even as she spoke. “I’m warning you right now that, if you close St. Gert’s, I’ll do my best to destroy you.”

Her threat hardly brought him to his knees. Instead, he sneered at her. “What could a nobody like you do to destroy someone like me?”

“I could tell the truth.”

He looked bored.

“That’s really all I have to do, you know. Oh, I don’t possess your lofty media contacts, but I’m well-acquainted with Colin Gutteridge at the
Lower Tilbey Standard
, and I taught Evelyn Lumley’s daughter. Evelyn is the home and garden reporter for Lower Tilbey’s radio station. She’s a magician with roses, so she has a very loyal group of listeners. I admit my contacts are humble ones, but even a small stone causes ripples, and both of them are quite loyal to me. They’ll be more than happy to report my side of the story.”

“No one will believe them,” he scoffed. “You can’t prove a thing.”

“Perhaps not. But the speculation will be messy.”

“Do you really think your unimportant little friends could hurt someone in my position?”

“I fight with what I have,” she said simply.

She had the satisfaction of seeing that she had his attention. Perhaps her small threat would make him think twice.

He shot his hand toward the door. “Get out of my sight. And don’t expect any decent schools in England to hire you because I’ll make certain that doesn’t happen.”

Did he really have so much power? She doubted it, but she also knew he could make it impossible for her to secure the type of position she was qualified to hold.

She realized she was trembling, and she knew she had to get away. But she couldn’t leave until she said what she needed to. “You are a small-minded, pompous man, Hugh. But even worse, you have a wicked heart. St. Gert’s deserves better.”

Francesca stared through the living room window at the gleaming stretch of Florida beach. It was beautiful, but she missed Wynette. She returned her attention to the disagreeable telephone conversation she was having with her husband. “Yes, darling, I’ve heard what they’re saying on the news. But I’m sure Kenny has a rational explanation.”

She wasn’t sure of any such thing, and she winced as her normally soft-spoken husband adamantly voiced his displeasure.

Finally, he quieted enough for her to speak. “I’ll admit the news clip is a bit damning, but the Duke of Beddington’s such a rotter. Really, Dallie, if you knew him, you’d simply detest him. I’m certain he had it coming.”

She lifted the receiver a few inches from her ear as he erupted again. He was calling her from Augusta, where the final round of the Masters was being played even as they spoke. Reporters had been stalking him all morning, and guilt nipped at her. This was her fault for sending Emma to Kenny. Beddington had obviously gone to Wynette because of her, and something, just as obviously, had gone drastically wrong.

Ever since Francesca had seen the footage of the fight in the Roustabout parking lot on the morning news, she’d been trying to reach Kenny, but she kept getting a busy signal. She’d hoped Emma would have a positive influence on him, but, instead, she seemed to have landed him in deeper trouble. None of this would have happened if Francesca hadn’t decided to try a little off-beat matchmaking, as her husband was now reminding her.

The other line buzzed. Dallie was still raving, and she slipped him on hold.

“Hi, Mom, it’s me.”

“Teddy, darling! Thank goodness you called. I have your father on the other line, and he’s being completely disagreeable. Hold on.”

She clicked back to Dallie, who seemed to be threatening her with a rather interesting sexual variation if she ever tried matchmaking again. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Teddy’s calling.”

Dallie immediately quieted, as she’d known he would. Of the many blessings in her life, witnessing the love between Dallie and his son was surely the greatest.

She took advantage of his brief silence to end the conversation. “Hurry home tonight, my darling.” And then, to punish him for being so cranky, she dropped her voice into the husky purr she’d perfected before her sixteenth birthday. “I bought the most exquisite massage oil yesterday. Almond with a faint overlay of sandalwood. Imported, of course, and outrageously expensive. But I insist on using only the very best . . . on every part of you . . . that will touch . . . certain parts of me.”

There was a long, eloquent pause, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded just the slightest bit hoarse. “Francie, I do believe I’m going to catch an earlier flight.”

Francesca smiled as she gently disconnected him.
As if there’d ever been any doubt.

“I’m going to kill him!” Torie exclaimed, over the voice announcing final boarding of Flight 2842 to London’s Heathrow. “I really will, Lady E. The minute Kenny resurfaces, I’ll do it. Tell her, Dex. Tell her I always mean what I say.”

Instead of replying, Dex slipped his arm around Emma’s shoulders and gave her a hug. “I’m sure once Kenny’s had a chance to think things over, he’ll be in touch.”

Emma thought how difficult that would be since she was getting ready to fly across the ocean. She was also homeless and jobless. “It’s all right. After what happened last night, I don’t expect him to speak to me again. Really.” But she’d hoped he would. She’d hoped he’d forgive her.

She fumbled in her purse for her boarding pass. She’d postponed getting on the plane as long as she could, just as she’d postponed leaving the ranch when it finally became evident that Kenny wasn’t going to return, but she couldn’t stall any longer.

At least she’d be getting away from Torie, who’d been nagging Dexter all day. No matter what he did or said, Torie found fault with it. He’d been bearing her insults with admirable restraint, but Emma’d been forced to bite her tongue to keep from calling her to task.

To make the trip even more uncomfortable, Emma had told them the truth about Hugh and his threats. After what they’d seen last night, they deserved the whole story, and, although they were both sympathetic, her confession made her feel like a dotty, dear thing, completely incompetent and out of touch with the world. The only secret she’d kept was the fact that she’d fallen in love with Kenny, but she was afraid both of them already knew that.

Torie’s worried expression only reinforced the feeling. “Kenny’s got a slow fuse, but, unfortunately, once it gets lit, it takes a while for him to cool down. And the fact that Tiger just won another Masters won’t help.”

“Yes, well, I seem to have run out of cooling down time.” She kissed Dex’s cheek, then gave Torie a fierce hug. “You’ve been wonderful to me. I’ll miss you dreadfully. You’ll never know how sorry I am for what I put you through last night.”

“Are you kidding? I was glad to help out.” She shot Dexter a peeved look. “Besides, it’s nice to be around someone who’s spontaneous instead of a person who has to think every damn thing through from top to bottom.”

Dexter smiled.

Torie squeezed Emma’s shoulders. “And don’t think you’ve seen the last of me, Lady E. We’ll keep in touch.”

“I hope so.”

“You can count on it. Our love affair might have been brief, but it sure was memorable.”

Emma laughed, then felt her throat close tight. She was going to miss this wacky band of Texans. “Be good to Dexter, Torie,” she whispered. “He’s a wonderful man.”

Torie hugged her back and looked unhappy. Emma gave them both a shaky smile, then hoisted her tote and turned toward the jetway.

“Emma!”

Her heart lurched, and she spun around to see Kenny racing toward the gate. He looked terrible. His slacks were wrinkled, he was unshaven, and he’d stuck a navy Dean Witter baseball cap over rumpled hair.

“Hold on!” Kenny rushed forward, nearly knocking over an elderly woman in the process, and came to a stop in front of Emma. His chest heaved, and he took a deep breath.

Now what?
As Kenny gazed at Emma silhouetted in front of the jetway, he couldn’t seem to get his air back. He’d run all the way from the parking garage, but that wasn’t why he couldn’t breathe. It had something to do with the way his lungs were crushed in his chest.

Last night, after he’d left the Roustabout, he’d driven around for a few hours, then found himself headed for Dallas. When he arrived, he’d gone straight to the golf course instead of to bed. He’d played thirty-six murderous holes; then, when he’d heard what Tiger was doing at Augusta, he’d hit the driving range for another hour. Bleary-eyed with exhaustion, he’d been about to make his way to his condo when he’d realized what day it was. That was when he’d turned around and headed for DFW.

“Ma’am, you’ll have to board now,” the gate attendant said with determined politeness.

Kenny saw Emma’s forehead wrinkle, and then her mouth crumpled. She banged her tote bag against his hip as she curled her hand around his arm. “Oh, Kenny, I’m so sorry about what happened. I never meant to involve you. I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted, and . . . I’ll never forgive myself. Everything happened so fast, and—”

He could see that, if he didn’t stop her, she’d spend the rest of their time together apologizing, but now that he was facing her, he couldn’t think of any of the dozen things he needed to say, especially not with Torie and Dex looking on. He just knew he couldn’t let Emma leave until he’d told her how she’d screwed up his entire life. And also . . . he had to say good-bye.

He whirled on his sister. “Will you get out of here?”

“Not until I’m good and ready.”

“You’re ready!”

Dex stepped forward, took her by the wrist, and drew her far enough away so Kenny could have a little privacy.

“Ma’am, we’re getting ready to close the doors. You have to board.”

He glared at the gate attendant. “Just tell them to wait a minute!”

“I’m sorry, sir, we can’t do that.”

Emma gave the attendant her boarding pass and shot Kenny a pleading look. “I have to go.”

Kenny gritted his teeth. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what you intend to do about the mess you’ve made of my life.”

Her eyes clouded. “I tried to reason with that awful television reporter—all of us did—but he refused to listen.” She began walking backward into the jetway. “I promise, Kenny, I’m going to talk to Dallie and set things right. I left several messages, but he hadn’t returned them by the time I left. I’ll call again as soon as I get on the plane.”

“You did what?” He dashed into the jetway and pulled her back out.

The attendant hissed, “Sir!”

He gave Emma a little shake to get her attention. “By damn, if you say a single word to Dallie about this, you’ll be sorry.”

The attendant stepped closer. “Ma’am, do you want me to call security?”

“No, no.” Emma shook her head. “Everything’s fine.” Once again, she grabbed his arm. “Of course I have to talk to Dallie. I’m the one who’s responsible. I have to explain how this is all my fault.”

“You’re damn right it is, and you’ve got a lot of making up to do, starting right now. Don’t get on that plane.”

“I have to. I have to go back.”

“And leave me to face the mess you created? Not hardly.”

“I won’t. I already told you I’d explain to Dallie, and—”

“And I already told you to mind your own business.”

“But . . .”

“Ma’am, are you getting on this plane or not?”

“Yes!”

“No, you’re not!”

Without any warning, Emma’s eyes filled with tears. Why did she have to tear his heart out by crying? “You stop that right now!” he exclaimed. “You’re not getting your way just by turning into a damn crybaby!”

“I’m not trying to get my way. I’m trying to straighten this out.”

“Fine! That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” He glanced over at the gate attendant. “Don’t wait for her any longer. She’s not going with you.”

“Kenny! Stop it this instant! I’ve already apologized, and I told you I’d call Dallie and explain, but you don’t want that. I can’t think of anything else to say. What am I missing? Tell me exactly what it is you
do
want from me.”

She had him there.

“That’s what I thought.” Her schoolmarm’s look told him he didn’t have a chance of changing her mind. “Good-bye, Kenny.”

She pulled away from him and turned into the jetway.

“You get back here right this minute!” he called out. “We’re—” Something was burning a hole right through the middle of his brain. “We’re going straight to Vegas.”