Legacy (12 page)

The first stars had just begun to dot the deepening indigo of the sky as Justin escorted me out to his waiting carriage. This was a very elegant closed coach, shiny black with gleaming brass trim and curved glass windows at the front. It was drawn by a pair of spirited black horses. The large coach lamps on either side illuminated the red velvet-and-leather interior as the driver, dressed in a dark grey uniform with a military cap, opened the door for us and courteously pointed out where I should step up.

Inside, the coach seemed strangely quiet, until Justin drew back the sliding glass windows on one side to let in the fresh air. As he leaned towards me to reach the other bevelled glass panel, the coach light glistened on his slightly tanned face, showing just a trace of lines around the corners of his eyes. With his white tie and crisply starched collar, he looked so glowingly confident, so radiant in his easy self-sufficiency, that I think no woman alive could have resisted him. Certainly I felt a thrill as those blue eyes looked back from the window to flicker over me, and then to meet my gaze, full and vibrant with a clear light.

I knew at that moment why his people were willing to work so hard. The magnetism in him called forth something that I had felt before during very private moments, a compelling strength and determination. It was not the same feeling that I had felt for Steven Graybar, yet as Justin talked with me on the ride through the twilight and up to Legacy, I began to sense that he might awaken those desires in me, as well.

We spoke of many things during that ride, but I was so caught up in my quiet tumult of emotions that I scarcely remember most of them. What I do remember, though, is what he said as we left the open fields at the foot of Legacy and entered the gravel road that led through the forest to the top. 'It's a good first step, tonight,' he said, looking at me and then at the woods ahead.

'Do you think so?' I waited for him to continue. I had no idea what he meant, but I had an idea that he might be talking about the two of us and was surprised at how comfortable that made me feel.

But he was evidently not in a mood to be romantic just then. 'What we've got to do,' he said, pressing his fingertips together, 'is stop this insane war your family has with the Graybars. You don't see much of it, I'm sure, from where you are, but it's poisoning the whole territory. A man's either a friend of the Rawlingses or of the Graybars, it seems. He can't be a friend of both. Even my men feel the pressure to take sides. Do you have any idea how much time and energy and money is wasted here in this valley just because two men hate each other?'

'I'm glad,' I said, somewhat dryly, 'that you think my coming along with you tonight serves some useful purpose.' As soon as the words were out I regretted them. It really was not fair for me to talk that way. I recovered as smoothly as I could. 'But I'm simply glad to be here.'

I spoke with a smile, which he returned, though with a momentarily searching glance. 'Well, of course, the same is true for me. That goes without saying. I'm not in the habit of spending time where I don't enjoy the company. Too busy for that.'

And he began to talk of the territory once more, how President Grant was interested in its lumber wealth, how it could be developed as a great commercial hub if only our wealthy lumbermen would have the foresight to pool their influence and make it be felt in Washington. Together, he said, there was almost nothing that we could not buy from Congress. All it would take would be the courage for each man to put up the money and the political sense to know where to spread it around. The Susquehanna Valley could become a perpetual centre of wealth if men worked at it now. If they did not, there would be twenty years, perhaps thirty, remaining until the forests were gone, and then Grampian would become no more than any of the other farming towns along the river.

'You'll be forty then, Catherine,' he said. 'Is that what you want?'

I could feel the pine-cooled air coming through the carriage and hear the low breathing of the horses as the wooden wheels crunched over the gravel. It struck me then that I had never really thought about what I wanted twenty years from now, or even five years from now. I had assumed I would be married, thought I would have a large house to run, as my mother did, and be occupied with important people to entertain and children to raise. But I had never stopped to think whether or not I wanted those things. I only knew that I would not allow myself to be forced into something I did not want - I had the courage and the intelligence to prevent that from happening, I was quite sure.

I said, 'I suppose not. I really haven't thought about it.'

He smiled slightly. 'You haven't had to, I guess. But come over here and look up ahead at Brad Graybar's place. You can just see the outline through the trees.'

I moved across the leather seat to sit closer to him, and I looked out the curved glass of the front coach window at the dramatic dark outline of Graybar Castle. Lights blazed from the windows in all four floors of the building, illuminating parts of the Mediterranean trim that gave it the air of a villa in Nice, or perhaps Spain. But the more striking feature was the tall medieval round tower that served, at the bottom, as an entranceway. The huge double doors were thrown open, sending forth a blaze of light and allowing glimpses of colorful gowns inside. And looming high over this bright wide doorway, high over the entire building, was the shadow of the great turret, in complete darkness except for the glimmerings of light from the other windows. The tower made a sombre, almost sinister, contrast to the bright gaiety of the rest of this strange, isolated mansion.

I thought of Steven. When would I see him again? And what would I say to him? It seemed impossible, after the way I had felt only a week ago, to treat him coldly, and yet perhaps in the long run we would have to test our feelings for each other. I knew I had been glad to be with him, to savor the warmth of his lovemaking. But I was glad to be sitting beside Justin at this moment, though we were barely touching one another. Was it only physical attraction with Steven? I asked myself. And Justin McKay . . . what? I could not tell.

The carriage came up the circular driveway and stopped before the wide doorway. No one met us, so Justin opened the door and helped me to step down. Once inside, we looked for someone to greet us, but again no one seemed to come forward. From the large rooms on either side, people drifted out into the wide hallway, and we saw several couples go up the wide circular staircase at the far end of the hall. But these were guests, evidently too busy admiring the extravagant decor to take notice of us. We could hear music from upstairs, which meant that the ballroom was on the second floor.

Justin led me inside, past the carved, throne-like chairs in the entrance hall, across the polished parquet floor patterned in several different woods. In the rooms on either side of us, the bright glow of many well-trimmed oil lamps illuminated the feast Brad Graybar had waiting for his guests. The room on our right held a square of tables crowded with bottles of many shapes and colors, with a man in the center who was busy uncorking champagne and filling the glasses of guests who milled around. In the other room, tables lined the walls and were piled high with foods of every description. I had a glimpse of a man in a chef's hat slicing a tremendous roast, while people with plates in hand helped themselves to portions of huge hams and turkeys, great lobsters, mounds of vegetables and salads, or, on the far side of the room, to a pile of frosted pastries that stood as tall, it seemed, as many of the guests. I had thought some of the displays at dinners given by my parents had been wasteful, but they had not even compared with this!

On every wall there hung huge paintings: green landscapes, huntsmen laden with game, dancers, still-life's of fruits and flowers. On the newel post at the foot of the stairs, a life-sized brass statue of an Elizabethan shepherd lofted a cornucopia above his upturned mouth as though it were a wineskin. Atop the horn rested the cut-glass globe of what would have been a gasolier - if Brad had had a gas line.

'Are you impressed?' Justin asked as we walked up the stairs.

'Ridiculous, isn't it? He could feed the whole town tonight.' Even as I spoke, though, I had to admit that the castle was fascinating, for all its ostentatious display of wealth.

Upstairs, perhaps a hundred couples had spread themselves across the wide expanse of a ballroom that seemed to cover the entire second floor. Musicians were playing off to our left as we entered, but I took little notice of them just then. My whole attention at the moment we entered, try as I might to think otherwise, was riveted on the crowd of dancers. Was Steven among them? I stood as if in a trance, oblivious to everyone for several moments as I searched the room.

But Steven was not there. Even though I had not expected to see him, I still felt suddenly tired.

'You look pale. Are you all right*

Justin touched my arm, supporting me briefly, and I felt my strength return. 'I must have climbed the stairs too rapidly. I feel fine now.'

'Good. Here comes our host at last.'

And it was Brad Graybar, coming towards us with a practiced smile of welcome. His leathery, almost Indian-like face and his iron-grey hair were just as I remembered them. In fact, his whole appearance was the same, except that he had put on a formal white tie and a cutaway jacket. I felt exposed, for he knew of my eavesdropping last Saturday. Yet I steeled myself. I knew something that was dangerous to him, and I had done him a favor by keeping that a secret. It was he who should be afraid of me, not the other way around.

He greeted Justin warmly, but when he turned to me his manner changed. 'Surprised to see you here. You're Sam Rawlings's daughter, aren't you?' It was not a question the way he said it. I felt vaguely uncomfortable with the way his cold black eyes appraised me, as if the gown I had been so pleased with not long ago were not even there. But I pushed that feeling aside.

'I am. And you did send us an invitation, so I don't see why you act surprised. I remember getting it last Saturday morning, as a matter of fact.'

My tone was pleasant. I watched his face to see if the mention of Saturday would have any effect. It did not. If anything, he seemed more sure of himself.

'So I did. Hope you like it up here. Nice view from the balconies over in the front, if you want some air. And if you don't like the music, there's gaming upstairs on the third floor. Just go up the steps in the tower'

He indicated a doorway across the room, between the two French windows that opened out on to the two balconies.

Then he added casually, 'Steven's up on the fourth floor, getting dressed. Just arrived back from Harrisburg a few minutes ago. When he's ready I expect he'll take over greeting folks, and then maybe I'll have a chance to talk with you, Doctor, about a little business proposition I've . . .'

'It can wait till Monday, I expect, don't you think, Brad?' While Justin smoothly went on putting aside Brad Graybar's invitation, my own thoughts whirled swiftly. Steven was here! He had just come back from Harrisburg, the better part of a day's railway journey. What would he say if he found me here? The questions raced through my mind, more disturbing now than the feelings I had kept carefully controlled all week. Had he been waiting to see me tonight, missing me, looking for the chance to come back to Grampian earlier?

I pulled myself up short, brought back to reality by Justin's firmly even voice.

'Why don't we have a look at this view of Brad's? Give us an idea of whether he's going to have any luck selling those lots of his.'

And I was moving with him across the well-lit dance floor, nodding automatically to the people I knew. Some of them had been at Father's dinner last week and seemed surprised to see me, but the surprise changed to a knowing smile when they recognized Justin. Justin, too, was nodding at people he recognized, repeating the names of the prominent ones he thought I might not know. 'Well, there's Garrison, the congressman from up North, and Farber, building the new tannery downriver, and, well - Senator Vandemeer himself! Quite a display Brad has managed to gather in his behalf. Your father's going to be interested to know, I'd expect.'

We reached the open doorway to one of the terraces, where the air was cooler. I felt as if I had to prove I had been listening. 'Likely they'll be down at Father's hotel later on in the evening,' I said. 'Father has his own orchestra for the night, and no doubt he's sent the word around that he's looking forward to seeing all his friends there.'