To Love a Scoundrel (34 page)

Keeping his word, Brent waited in silence for several long minutes. Then he joined Beau at the fireplace. "Well?" he quietly said. "Surely your memory's had a chance to return by now. Just exactly what did happen to Mama's emeralds, Beauregard?"

After finishing the last of his drink, Beau lowered his head and muttered, "They were stolen, just as I said, but maybe I got the name wrong. Now that I think about it, I guess it wasn't Harry Benton after all."

Brent clenched his teeth, waiting until he could speak in a calm rational vice. "Why did you give me Benton's name if he wasn't the thief, Beauregard?"

The younger Connors shrugged and picked at a loose strand of thread hanging at the edge of the runner. "I read about him in one of those mystery books. It said he liked jewels and fancy ladies and made his living off'n them."

Knowing any display of anger would spook his overly sensitive brother, Brent swallowed his rage and went on. "Why? Why did you give me a name in the first place? Why in the name of all that's holy did you have me peeking into hotel rooms and places I had no right to be, searching for a man who never did our family wrong? Answer me that
,
Beau."

"I can't! I don't know."

Forcing a coolness he didn't feel, Brent took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on Beau's shoulder. "Take it easy, now. Don't get yourself all in a stew. Just tell me the truth so I'll know what to do next."

The younger Connors glanced up at his brother's expression, then furrowed his brow. He began tracing the brick patterns along the low hearth with the toe of his boot as he tried once again to explain. "I didn't think you'd really go after Benton. And I never believed you'd actually find him." Beau's next thoughts lifted his chin and popped his eyes open. ''Did you find him? Oh, glory be, is that it? What happened?''

"That's what I've been asking you, little brother. I'm still waiting for an answer."

"Oh, glory be, glory be," Beau muttered as he began wringing his hands. "I went on down to New Orleans. I was gonna—''

"I know all that. What happened to Mama's jewel's?"

"Well... damn it all, Brent." Beau stepped away from the fireplace, away from his brother, and circled around behind his mother's gold velvet settee. "I only wanted to show Mama I was as good as you. I wanted to help in a big flashy way, like you done when you won the
Delta Dawn.
I never thought..." His words trailed off as he tried to find a way to explain his incredible stupidity.

Brent slowly made his way to the couch and stood facing Beau. Keeping his tone low and nonjudgmental, he said again, "What did you do with the jewels?"

Beau lowered his head and voice before he was able to admit the truth. "I lost them."

"Lost them? How did you do that? Did you put them somewhere, then forget where?"

"I used them to cover the biggest pot I've ever seen. Ten
thousand
dollars."

"You wagered Mama's emeralds on a game of chance?" Brent's color rose, and his mustache began to twitch. "What in God's name were you using for a brain, if you don't mind, my asking?"

"Glory be," Beau cried, once again wringing his hands. "If you'd been there, you'da done the same, I swear. I had it won. I knew I did, Brent. God Almighty, wouldn't you bet the farm on a full house, queens over nines? Wouldn't you?"

"Depends, little brother," Brent answered, his nostrils flaring. "Where did you find this little game and who were the other players?"

"I told you. Down to New Orleans. I was at a place called the Purple Turtle."

"Oh, good Lord," Brent said with a heavy sigh of resignation. "Who—and believe me, I'm almost afraid to ask—was running this game?"

Beau looked up at his brother, then averted his gaze and said in a very quiet voice, "Skinner. That was his whole name. Just Skinner."

"Oh, Beau," Brent shouted, his vow to remain cool dissolved in a flash of white-hot anger. "He's the biggest crook this side of the Mississippi. What could you have been thinking?"

"I told you," Beau shouted back, his voice high, wavering. "I just wanted to win big, like you."

Brent held up his hands, acknowledging that his anger wasn't really directed at his brother. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper and said, "I know you did, Beau, but couldn't you have thought about the difference between us? I was the manager of the Gilded Bird when I won that ship. I knew the players, and I ran the game myself. I knew it was an honest poker game, because I was in charge. Understand, Beau?"

He nodded slowly. "You were Skinner."

Brent winced. "In a manner of speaking, yes, but never mention my name in the same breath with his again, brother, you got that?" At Beau's miserable nod, Brent sighed and circled around behind the settee. "I know you only wanted to do something big to help the family, and I do appreciate that fact. Next time, however, make sure it's something you're an expert at. Understand what I'm saying?"

Again Beau nodded. Then he glanced up at his taller brother. "I think I understood right after it happened, but it was too late." His honey-brown eyes pleading, he faced Brent. "You aren't going to tell Mama, are you? Please don't."

"'Course not. I'll make some inquiries about the necklace when the
Dawn
pulls into New Orleans. Maybe we'll get the emeralds back yet."

Beau's eyes lit up. "I know what Skinner did with 'em. Let me help you get 'em back."

His mustache twitching again, Brent paused and sighed. "I'll have to think on that awhile. What did Skinner do with the jewels?''

"He gave 'em to that Cajun gal who runs the upstairs trade at the Purple Turtle. She's right fond of me. Maybe I could—"

A light tapping at the door cut off his words. Then Miriam stepped into the room. "Did I hear my boys scrapping in here?"

"No, Mama." Brent assured her as he squeezed his brother's arm. "Beau and I were just having a little fun."

"That's some powerful noisy fun you were having—I could hear your voices all the way down to the kitchen." Miriam shot her older boy a perceptive look, then addressed her younger son. "Beau, darlin', do me a favor and run out back to the garden. Loanne is picking some vegetables and gathering fresh eggs. I think she could use your help. After that, you go on up and dress for supper. It's getting late."

"Yes, ma'am." Beau's eyes sparkled, and his expression reflected open admiration as he took a moment to smile up at his brother. Then he practically skipped out of the study and down the hallway to the kitchen.

After he was gone, Miriam closed the doors and approached her firstborn. "Everything all right 'tween you and your brother?"

"Things are just fine, ma'am. Nothing for you to worry your head about."

Lifting the flounced hem of her wrapper, Miriam settled down on the couch and regarded her son. "I have a few minutes to spare before I have to dress for supper. Isn't there something you want to tell me?"

Staring into his mother's intuitive gray eyes, he wondered how long she had been outside the door to the study. Had she heard the conversation about her grandmother's emeralds? His voice uncharacteristically hesitant, Brent shrugged and said, "I don't think so."

"Come now, Brent, you don't expect me to believe you brought that girl and her father out here just to pass the time of day. Don't you think it's time we had a little talk?"

Brent eyed his empty bourbon glass and wondered if another drink would make it any easier to have this conversation with his mother. How could he find a way to explain the ill-conceived poker game and still keep his promise to Beau? Could he explain it without hurting her or his brother? Again he glanced at his glass.

Miriam spared him the decision. "Aren't you suddenly the shy one." She laughed, teasing him. "Why, if I didn't know better, I'd think I was talking to Beauregard."

Brent cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Ma'am?''

"Don't go thinking you can pull one over on me," she went on, a knowing gleam in her eye. "When were you planning to let us all in on the surprise? Tonight at supper?''

"Surprise?" Brent scratched his head. "Mama, I'm sorry, but I guess I just have too much on my mind right now to make sense of your conversation. What in tarnation are you talking about?"

"Why, Jewel of course." Miriam shook a finger at him. "Brandee Leigh told me what she saw in the magnolia room. I realize you weren't expecting her to pop in on you, but I do think I taught you better manners than you exhibited, you rascal."

"Oh, that," he muttered quietly, not sure if he was relieved or distressed at the unexpected choice of topics. "I beg your pardon. It won't happen again."

"Oh?" Miriam said, one eyebrow raised high. "I expect it will. Don't think I didn't notice the sparks between you two when I first met her and don't think I didn't notice she's not one of our own kind, either. Are you sure you know what you're doing, son? Have you thought this over carefully?''

Brent cleared his throat and acknowledged his mother's assumptions with the barest of nods. "Jewel does mean an awful lot to me. I'd appreciate it if you would treat her like one of our own, without referring to our relationship in any way. She is a very special and intelligent woman, but skittish as all get-out. Jewel won't cotton to any of us suggesting I brought her out here for reasons other than business."

" Business?" Miriam wrinkled her nose. "What kind of business could you possibly have with her?"

"Ah, not with Jewel. With her father. They are both passengers on the
Dawn
, and he expressed an interest in Sumner Hall. I thought it prudent to indulge his curiosity."

"Oh, is that all?" Miriam sighed, then slowly shook her head. "And here I thought you were finally ready to settle down. I suppose this means you aren't planning to announce your engagement at the supper table, then."

"What?
Good gracious, no. If you even suggest that, Jewel will head on out of here like a pack of coon dogs is at her heels."

"Oh, dear me," Miriam said as she lifted herself off the couch. "In that case, I'd best go have another talk with your daddy. You know how he can be."

Brent groaned under his breath. "You've gone and mentioned this to Dad?"

Thinking ahead to supper, and to Raiford's penchant for blurting out the most embarrassing statements at the most inopportune moments, he groaned again. "Good God all Friday."

Chapter 16

Ten months younger than Brent, Mary Mildred was the Connors child most affected by the War between the States. A bride at eighteen, a scant year later she had lost her young husband and a good part of her sanity at the siege of Vicksburg. Now thirty, Mary had settled into a kind of permanent truce with herself and her circumstances.

Draped in a bouffant gown of deep indigo, she stood on the marble floor of the foyer, one hand caressing the newel post at the bottom of the curved staircase, and told Brent about her afternoon with Jewel. Mary's periwinkle-blue eyes sparkled with open adoration as she spoke to her favorite sibling. She turned her head, displaying her new hairstyle, and pointed to the rows of blond spirals. "Look back here at the crown," she said enthusiastically. "Jewel says this is the latest style from New York. Do you like it?"

"You look downright stunning, li'l sis. A blinding vision of beauty."

"Oh, you flatterer," she drawled in a voice so soft, so faint, it was barely more than the kiss a butterfly. "But really, don't you think Jewel did a lovely job? I know it's the latest fashion, too, because I saw a recent issue of the
Harper's Bazar
over to Noland's Dry Goods Store. Every last one of the models wore her hair like this."

Indulging her, acknowledging the special corner of his heart he kept just for his oldest sister, Brent lightly pinched her cheek. "I told you I thought you looked absolutely beautiful. What can I possibly add to that without puffing your head up like a big old gourd?"

"Oh, Brent,'' she said, giggling and glancing at the top of the stairs.

Catching the expectant look in her eyes and recognizing the conspiratorial gleam, he followed her gaze, then furrowed his brow. "All right, li'l sis, what's going on, and where is Jewel? Everyone seems to be downstairs but her. What have y'all gone and done with her?"