Legacy (5 page)

'Catherine, say hello to Dr. Justin McKay. Justin, this is my daughter, Catherine.'

So this was Justin McKay, the young Philadelphia doctor who had amazed the town by making a fortune from a small lumber mill! Mother had spoken of him often, for he was the despair of society women in Grampian. Remote and standoffish, he never had time for social occasions. His every waking moment, they said, was spent at his work. He had brought in European machinery and scientific equipment, and with methods no one quite understood, he had turned his initial small investment into one of the town's most efficient properties, which he never ceased to improve. He even worked on Sundays. If the town had not been grateful to him for the charity clinic he had built for the men of the mill, their families, and for the town's poor, Dr. McKay would have come in for even more criticism in the town's drawing rooms than he now received for his unsocial ways, and that was no small amount.

'How do you do, Dr. McKay? You've been hunting, I see.'

Just then Father noticed the marks on my face that I had received from the Legacy spruce trees. 'What the devil's happened to you, young lady?' he asked. 'What happened to your cheek there? Looks like you've been in a fight, and lost! Let me tell you, Justin,' he said before I could answer him, 'she usually looks a sight better than this. You reckon it's anything serious? Want to have a look at her?'

From the expression on Father's face, I could not tell whether he was really concerned or whether he was only joking, but I could feel my temper starting to flare. My cheeks burned with embarrassment as I sat there in the carriage while these two men stared at me and the third, Jared, deliberately affected a disinterested air.

Without moving from his horse, Dr. McKay appraised me, his penetrating blue eyes lofty and amused, as though they saw through my deception.

'Nothing serious, I'd imagine,' he said easily. 'Ride too close to a branch, did you?'

'As a matter of fact, yes.' How blue his eyes were! For a moment I forgot to be angry with Father. This man appeared to be enjoying himself, and his lean, square-jawed face was almost smiling. Could this be the cold, humorless scientist whom Mother had spoken of?

Then those eyes turned inward, no longer seeing me, and the lean face became a mask. I turned to Father.

'I don't see that there's any need to make a fuss over a few small scratches.' I wished I could have said more, but with others present I wanted to be polite. So I changed the subject. 'What have you got in your game bag?'

'Couple of pheasant,' said Father, eyeing me quizzically. 'You sure you're all right?'

'I told you I was, Father! Now, please!' I was really growing quite irritated.

'Well, all right.' The broad smile appeared again on Father's face. 'Got good news. Justin, here, is going to sell us that little beauty of a mill he's got!'

I raised my eyebrows politely and nodded. 'Oh, indeed ..."

Dr. McKay interrupted, his tone easygoing, yet crisp, and I thought I noticed a slight Southern accent. 'I'd better correct that, young lady, before your father gets to believing his own words. You see, he's made me an offer. It's an offer I'm considering, and that's all there is to it just now. It'll take some time to study the whole matter and see if that's the way we want to go.'

He turned to my father with an even smile. 'Right, Sam?'

Father tugged at the curly blond hair of one sideburn. 'Well, that's right for today, maybe. In a day or two, you'll sell. Mark my words. But we'll not talk about that. What do you think of my daughter, eh? You two have never met before, have you? Big city we're getting here, people not knowing each other, eh?'

'It's not that,' said the doctor, still in that easy, level tone. 'There's just no time, that's all. With the business property to attend to and a clinic - people's lives come first before I take any time to socialize, I'll guarantee you.'

And as if the conversation had reminded him, he glanced at his pocket watch. 'It's been a pleasure,' he said, giving me a slight nod and then looking at Father, 'but I've some things to take care of.'

'Busy man,' said Father, turning to me. 'Had a devil of a time gettin' him even to take an afternoon off for huntin'! Well, Justin, you just go on ahead. But, remember, Claire's expectin' you tonight, too.'

'I think I'll be there. I've cleared the evening. So, unless something comes up, I'll see you both tonight.' He gave another slight nod, then turned his horse and dug his heels into its flanks as it went galloping off.

Father walked his horse up just beside the carriage. His hands showed white as he gripped the reins. 'What did you think, daughter?' He scrutinized my face, clearly looking for some reaction, and I realized what he had been doing. Dr. McKay was one of the town's most eligible men, and Father had been showing me off! The thought made my blood boil, but I strove to contain my indignation. My temper had got me into enough of a predicament already today without my adding to my troubles by antagonizing Father.

Nevertheless, I could not resist a bit of sarcasm. 'I think he might have been favorably impressed, Father' - I brushed back my hair, just slightly touching the marks on my right cheek - 'even though the goods were a trifle damaged. I hope I didn't disappoint you.'

He was stern. 'You know perfectly well what I meant, young lady. What did you think of him?'

'Oh? I wasn't aware that my opinion mattered. As long as you think the doctor's mill is worth having? Or do you suppose someone with even more desirable property might also find me attractive?' I could see the muscles in his face tighten with anger, so I hastily added, 'But I've never thought that first impressions counted for much. Let's just say it's too soon for me to have made up my mind, shall we?'

The anger gradually faded from Father's grey eyes as he brought it under control. Finally, he said, 'Well, see that you keep an open mind on the subject, young lady. And keep a civil tongue in your head!'

He turned his horse around, and in a moment or two he had ridden away.

For the rest of the way into town I fumed at Father. How could he be so insensitive by putting his daughter on display and then calling attention to marks and scratches? Had he no idea at all how I must have felt? And then to hint so broadly that I should find myself attracted to this doctor who thought of nothing but work, just so Father could have a new mill! It was really too much for me to have borne in silence. I was glad I had spoken up, even if it had provoked him. Perhaps that would teach him to use a little tact in the future, especially if he had any more ideas about selecting a prospective suitor for me.

I smiled grimly to myself then at the thought of what a surprise Father would have if he learned how well I was doing on my own in that regard. Steven Graybar was certainly wealthy enough! Father, I could say, I can now offer you the valuable opportunity to bring a huge estate into the fortune of our family!

But Father would sooner die. He hated Brad Graybar with a bitterness I never saw in him at any other time. He had hated Brad ever since the days when the two of them were partners in starting the lumber boom up-river. Something had happened back in those years, nearly two decades ago. Neither of my parents would discuss it with me, but it clearly must have been something dreadful to keep the fires of hatred burning all this time.

When I arrived home, I found Mother waiting for me in the entrance hall. To find her here like this, practically at the door, was unusual. Mother had an easy, open disposition that rarely showed any signs of worry. She adored Father, yet she stood up to him, too, without betraying the slightest hint of fear. 'You're just wrong, Sam,' she would say, with hands on her slender hips and with a matter-of-fact tone, 'and if you'd quit chasing your tail, round and round, you'd wake up to what you're really doing soon enough.' How I wished I could follow her example and keep calm when I had to face Father in a disagreement! But no, I could not. He would flare up and so would I.

Her brown hair pinned up in a bun, Mother eyed my reddened cheek. Her green eyes, behind silvery half-spectacles, showed relief.

'A riding accident! Your father said you had a riding accident, and all you come home with is a pair of pink cheeks! Pshaw!' And after giving me a hug, Mother marched me back to the wide stairs of polished walnut at the end of the hall. 'You've three dresses laid out for tonight,' she said. 'I'm partial to the blue, but you take your choice. Emily's drawn the bath. Remember, we serve at eight, and I shall want you downstairs to make charming conversation by seven. The Scotts are certain to arrive early, and it is likely the judge will, too - I fancy he's taken a shine to Amanda Scott's red hair. Now, are you all right? Good. I've got to tend to my own business now, so off with you!'

So I marched upstairs to my three rooms on the third floor, cheered by Mother's usual good humor and grateful that she had not asked any questions. I wanted nothing so much as a quiet, warm bath and a chance to be alone for a time. On my bed I found the three dresses - two of them in rose-colored faille, and the third a blue chambray gauze with gold-colored stripes woven lightly through the fabric. All three, I reflected wryly, had been warmly praised by Mother's dressmaker for what their fascinatingly low necklines would do to captivate any man. That was the last thing I wanted tonight, I thought. Father had set me on display once today, and once was enough. I would choose something more modest.

The bath was already drawn, with soap bubbles piled high over the polished mahogany frame that surrounded the long copper tub. I had no sooner undressed and stepped in than there came a knock at my door.

'It's Emily, Miss Catherine. Your father says he wants to speak with you in the library.'

Oh, did he? Well, he could certainly wait until I had finished my bath. 'Tell him I'll be with him shortly, Emily. And lay out my grey silk, would you? The basque, with velvet trim.'

It seemed only a few moments until Emily was back. 'Your father says he wants to see you now, Miss Catherine.'

Really! 'Well, you tell him, Emily, that I am taking my bath, and that I shall be with him as soon as I am properly dressed.'

I sank down in the tub, luxuriating in the soft warmth of its perfumed waters. Then I began gingerly to apply a washcloth to my face. There was no stinging, only tenderness, which meant I had no real scratches from the afternoon's adventure. I breathed a sigh of relief and wished my other troubles would go away as easily.

Then, on the wall above me, the speaking tube burst forth with a loud roar. 'Catherine!' It was Father's voice, echoing through one of the hollow tubes that connected our home's thirty-three rooms. Even through the tube I could hear the hoarse fury in his voice. 'Catherine! You get down here this instant!'

I stood up, wrapped myself in a towel, and reached for the tube. 'I am in the bath, Father.' I kept my voice maddeningly polite. 'I do not wish to keep you waiting, but I should like to finish bathing and dressing.'

'This instant, I said!'

'Don't shout at me!'

Shaking with anger, I thrust the cap of the speaking tube back into place, blocking whatever reply he might have made. I was not going to be bullied! Carefully, I stepped out of the tub and dried myself with a fresh towel. There was steam from the tub over the mirror in my bathroom, so I took my hair brush into the dressing room and sat down before the vanity mirror and unpinned my hair, letting it fall down in shining auburn waves around my bare shoulders. Then I began to brush it carefully, deliberately, refusing to hurry just because Father thought he could demand my presence at a moment's whim.

As I brushed my hair, I examined my face critically. My complexion was flushed from the heat of the bath and my tirade with Father, but there were scarcely any marks visible now. A few touches of powder and no one would notice tonight. There were no marks on my long, slender neck, or on my shoulders, so if I wished I could certainly wear one of the three dresses Mother had selected - but I would not. The grey silk, with its smooth fit, was equally attractive in its own way, though since it had a high neckline the appeal was not quite so direct. A subdued effect - that was what I wanted tonight. I was not going to advertise myself for Father's doctor friend, and I certainly did not want to go out in bare décolletage tonight to meet Steven!