Legacy (41 page)

What was Amanda saying? ' . . . after you've gone through so much. Now I must confess I had taken a liking to him, but I guess it just wasn't meant to be.'

Her smile looked wistful as she took an envelope out of her purse. 'But I guess if his first wife can be big-hearted about it, why, then so can I. Do you know that she sent you this note, wishing you all the best, just to make certain you wouldn't feel uncomfortable? Poor thing, she's ... a bit strange at times, but this letter's as nice as you please. I saw her write it myself. They're not allowed to send anything out that hasn't been looked at first, you see. They might be asking for things they shouldn't have. But, anyway, I do hope you're very happy. And if you haven't chosen all your bridesmaids just yet, I'd be very proud to be one.'

I promised her I'd read the letter some other time and said I'd be pleased to have her as a bridesmaid. After all, her father would be performing the ceremony in our church. It would be silly not to give Amanda a place in the wedding party if she wanted one.

Finally I was able to get Justin outside for a stroll in the summer evening, where we could talk in privacy. Out on the walk in front of the house we went slowly, arm in arm, from one circle of gaslight into the next. We listened to the elm leaves rustle overhead and watched the lamps from the few carriages out on the street as they passed by.

It was easier than I expected to make Justin see that Legacy was important. I had scarcely finished explaining about what the mountain had meant to our family when he interrupted. 'I don't see any problem with that, Catherine. The mountain's yours; the house is, too. We'll just have them put in your name, whether we get them directly from Brad or the other way, with the sheriff.'

He stopped and turned to face me, ignoring the closed carriage that had stopped at the curb alongside of us. 'After all, what would I want with a mountain, or a castle, when I have someone as lovely as...'

'McKay!' The voice cut through me, the anger in it catching me completely unprepared. I opened my eyes wide, dazed by what I saw, praying that it would disappear.

In the open doorway of the carriage, his face a harsh, angular mask in the lamplight, was Steven Graybar.

As he stepped down on to the ground, I saw that he had a pistol in his hand.

'No!' I cried out as Justin turned away from me and waited for Steven to come closer, but he paid no attention to me. In a voice as cold as any I have ever heard, he spoke.

'Graybar, you've lost. Do you intend to go out with a murder?'

Steven snapped the pistol open. There were no bullets in the firing chamber. He gave a short, harsh laugh. 'I'm not that big a fool, McKay. I just wanted to see the guilty fear in your eyes when you had to face me. You're not proud of your sneaking work in Harrisburg. I can see that.' Steven's anger seemed just beneath the surface, waiting to explode.

Justin held his ground. 'If you're done with looking at me, Graybar, I suggest you leave.'

'Not just yet. I want a word with this lady here. You may recall I told you that the two of us - were not strangers to one another.'

I stood very still. This was to be my moment of triumph, I thought, but I felt only a saddened concern that Steven was about to do something foolish because his pride was wounded. I knew that I had hurt him as he deserved to be hurt. Why was it that I could only look at him and greet him with, 'Yes, Steven?'

'I understand you're planning to marry.'

'I am.'

'Marry one man to get Legacy, but not another, is that it?' His cool sarcasm was maddening. 'What a shame I hadn't realized what it was you really wanted. I could either have made a deal with Brad or saved myself a lot of wasted effort."

'You've no right to talk that way, Steven. I . . . '

'Money-hungry - that's all you were. Land-hungry, just like Brad, just like your father, and just like this one.'

'That's not true! You can't . . . '

Justin stepped forward. 'You've said enough, Graybar. Now go on home.'

Steven's grin flashed wickedly. 'What's the trouble, McKay? Afraid I'm going to take all this property away from you? That nice hotel, those nice profitable mills . . . '

'That's enough,' Justin said. 'Now go on. I don't want to have to hurt you.'

The words hung in the warm night air. The smile on Steven's lips seemed to harden. When he finally spoke, his voice dripped with sarcasm. 'Well, that's mighty considerate of you, McKay.'

Then, slowly, as though he were utterly unconcerned at whatever Justin might do, Steven drew back his fist and then let fly a savage blow squarely at Justin's jaw. I gasped, but there was no impact. Justin turned aside so that Steven's fist missed him by a fraction of an inch. Then, as Steven was off balance, Justin suddenly brought up his knee and caught Steven hard in the pit of the stomach. The breath went out of Steven in a hoarse, guttural rush. He stumbled, bent over, tried to straighten up, but fell.

Justin kicked the pistol out of his hand. 'Loaded or not, I wouldn't risk your throwing this gun at me, Graybar. Don't worry, impact to the solar plexus causes only a temporary paralysis. You'll be well soon, and able to go home - which I suggest you do the very second you can walk. Now let's go back inside, Catherine, before we begin to attract a crowd.'

Steven's coachman had climbed down from his box and was now assisting him to his feet, helping him away from the illuminated circle of the streetlamp.

Justin took my arm. We turned to go. But then I heard Steven's voice from the shadows at the edge of the lawn shrubbery.

'Catherine!'

I hesitated and then looked back.

Steven had come out under the light again. The dark eyes, the disheveled hair, the polished boots - all seemed to glitter with an unnatural intensity. But the voice was softer than before. 'Do you think you love him, Catherine?'

He said it almost kindly, and the tone caught me off guard so that I hesitated for a moment. Then I recovered my composure. 'Really, Mr. Graybar, you are too impertinent,' I said.

Taking a firm hold of Justin's arm, I looked one last time at that strange light in Steven's gaze. Then I turned and walked with Justin back towards our mansion, where a few guests had come down the front steps from the wide porch and out on to the lawn, wondering what the commotion was about.

Was it my imagination, or did I really hear Steven's voice in the wind behind me? And what was it he said so quietly? 'You'll never take it from me, Catherine, never.'

'Justin,' I whispered, suddenly afraid, 'did you hear that?'

'Of course I did. But don't mind his foolishness, darling. Let's get you inside. A glass of sherry will help you sleep.'

For the next day or two, my feelings were still disturbed by the events that had taken place that night. I wondered if Steven would come back to cause yet another unpleasant scene, and on several occasions I caught myself thinking that perhaps the Graybars would find a way to meet their obligations, after all. What if they sold off every thing but Legacy? Oh, but that was absurd. How could they live up there without the income from their mill? It would be impossible. And even if it were possible, I knew that Steven would rather starve than live under the same roof as Brad. No, if they had any last-minute hopes of keeping Legacy from me, those hopes rested on some other plan.

Fortunately, I had more than enough work to keep my mind occupied, so I did not waste much time worrying about Steven Graybar or what he might do. I congratulated myself that I had finally been able to break his hold over me. My engagement seemed to have raised an impassable barrier that cut off all thoughts of that passionate abandon I had fought against only a few months ago. How much more sensible it was not to think of those things that gave only hurt! And when I was married, the barrier would be even stronger. I would be safe, perhaps forever. Steven might be forced to go away and leave me in peace . . .

Then, three nights after the engagement dinner, I came home to find Emily, the maid, still finishing with the curtains in my room. A small white envelope lay unopened on my nightstand. 'I found it in your reticule, ma'am,' said Emily, 'when we were getting ready to send out your evening clothes to be cleaned. I thought you might have forgotten it.'

I opened it and read the barely legible, flowery scrawl of Justin's first wife. As Amanda had said, Elaine McKay wished me well and wanted me to know that I had her blessings. I shrugged, not certain whether I felt like laughing or weeping at this foolish intrusion. As if this woman still was in a position to give Justin away! But then, who knew what sort of delusions she might be under as a result of her addiction.

I crumpled the letter and was about to throw it away when I noticed some writing on the inside of the envelope. It had been done with the same pen, but the letters were smaller and more precisely formed, as if the writer had been taking pains to print clearly. The message gave me pause:

Must see you at once. Danger.

E.M.

Was this more foolishness? The brief note nagged at me all during dinner, so much so that I scarcely spoke to Mother. What could it mean? What danger could this woman possibly know about, shut off from the world as she was? It had to be one of her delusions. Yet that small, careful lettering . . .

'Catherine, do you feel well? I don't think you've heard a thing I've said all this time.'

'I'm sorry, Mother. I was distracted. What were you saying?'

'Well, it's not that important - just that Lem Sprague's Mississippi stern-wheeler's finally arrived here on the river. He'll soon have that floating amusement palace he's talking about. But that's not any concern of mine, really. What's this that's so much on your mind tonight?'

'I don't know. It's probably nothing. Justin's first wife sent me a note, and hidden on the inside of the envelope was a message that said she had to see me at once. That's all she said, except for the word "danger". I haven't known what to make of it.'

'Well, why don't you go down and see? Do you want me to come with you?'

'Oh, I'm not afraid of her, Mother! But what good could it do? What could she possibly know that would present any danger to me?'

'Maybe nothing,' Mother allowed. 'Maybe she's just trying to get attention. They get like little children, I'm told, in those places. And from what I've heard of her, she was certainly enough of a spoiled brat to begin with.'

'So you think it's foolishness, then?' I took the envelope out of my pocket and handed it across the table.

She studied the message for a moment. Then she put it down. 'It's probably nothing. On the other hand, it might mean something. You'd be surprised how people talk around places like that. She might have picked up some gossip about the hotel, or about the mills, or almost anything. The attendants talk, the visitors talk, and there are some highly influential people numbered among those "guests", I'm told.'

'So you think I should go?'

She smiled broadly, her eyes crinkled at the corners.

'Well, of course! At least it will put your mind at ease, and then you'll be able to listen to me again at mealtimes! We've few enough of these private moments together before the wedding, as it is. I don't want to waste another meal with you off in the clouds with worries of secret notes and other foolishness.'

Even though I knew Mother was half-teasing, I had Jared drive me over to the Holt Clinic, anyway. If nothing else, I would see what the first Mrs. McKay looked like.

After a few minutes' delay, during which I helped the matron in charge overcome her guilty feelings for allowing someone in after visiting hours, I was finally shown into an ordinary-looking parlor where several ordinary-looking people were lounging on sofas and chairs, most of them reading, while two men played checkers.