Amaryllis (41 page)

“That's odd.” Amaryllis put her arms around his neck. “My standards have only been lowered in some areas.”

“There you are.” Lucas's smile held the devil's own satisfaction. “Our relationship has made interesting changes in both of us. A perfect example of synergy in action.”

Amaryllis pulled his mouth down to hers before he could get carried away with a boring lecture on synergistic principles.

Much later, after Lucas had gone back to his own office, Amaryllis tidied her desk and picked up several items that had fallen to the floor. Then she reached for the phone and dialed the Department of Focus Studies. Irene Dunley answered on the second ring.

“Miss Lark.” Irene sounded anxious. “Are you all right? I saw the morning papers. I could hardly believe what I read. Imagine, Senator Sheffield a murderer.”

“I know. What's more, it's likely that he killed Professor Landreth, too. The police are going to reopen the investigation.”

“Is that a fact? Perhaps justice will be done at last.”

“I think so, although, as my boss pointed out, Sheffield is a city-state senator and he's denying everything. He may walk.”

“At the very least, his career in politics will be ruined,”
Irene said. “He probably won't be able to recover from this scandal.”

“I shouldn't think so, but I wouldn't count on it.”

“This is not a happy day. I wish the criminal had been anyone other than Senator Sheffield. This city-state needed his vision and leadership.”

“I expect we'll all get along just fine without him,” Amaryllis assured her. “Irene, I have to go away for a couple of days. Family stuff. But I'll be back the day after tomorrow. Probably quite late. Would you like to get together for coff-tea the day after that? I think we should talk. After all, you and I sort of solved this case together.”

“I would enjoy seeing you again, Miss Lark.”

“Great. Irene, I want to thank you for supporting me during this whole thing. You were the only one who believed in me and who tried to be helpful.”

“Professor Landreth was very special,” Irene said softly. “In spite of that unfortunate relationship with the syn-sex stripper. There will never be anyone else quite like him here at the Department of Focus Studies.”

“He was one of a kind,” Amaryllis agreed. “It's people such as Professor Landreth who truly embody the best virtues of the founders.”

“Well said, Miss Lark. Well said. Good-bye. I'll look forward to having coff-tea with you when you return.”

“Good-bye, Irene.”

After she hung up the phone, Amaryllis sat gazing at the instrument for a long time. Not every question had been answered with Sheffield's arrest, she thought. One small one remained. She wondered if she would ever learn the answer to it.

“What do you mean, how did Madison Sheffield discover that Landreth had put together a file that could embarrass him and hurt his election chances?” Lucas took his eyes off the highway long enough to give Amaryllis a wry glance. “If you're looking for the person who leaked the information to him, you've got a long list of candidates. I'd say that there are as many possibilities as there are people in the Department of Focus Studies.”

Although she had been thinking the same thing, it jolted Amaryllis to hear her fears put into words. “I don't want to believe that someone in the department, someone Professor Landreth trusted, did such a thing.”

Lucas lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “Hell, it could have been a janitor or a guard or one of the lab techs who stumbled onto some of Landreth's notes. Who knows?”

“It must have been someone who felt strongly about supporting Sheffield's candidacy. Whoever did it must have thought that he or she was doing the right thing by warning Sheffield about the existence of the file.”

“Amaryllis, I know that this will come as a great shock to
you, but not everyone is motivated by a driving need to do the right thing. Lots of people are motivated by other stuff.”

“Such as?”

“Money.”

She stared at him. “You think someone sold that information to Sheffield?”

“Why not? Someone tried to blackmail him with it later. The world is full of people who do things for cold, hard cash. Come on, you're not that innocent.”

“Someone leaked the information about the file to Sheffield. Sheffield opted for a direct method of dealing with the threat. He murdered poor Professor Landreth, not realizing until too late that the professor had taken the precaution of giving the file to Vivien of the Veils.”

“Yeah,” Lucas said softly. “Simple. Most things are at the core.”

Just like her feelings about Lower Bellevue, Amaryllis thought. She hated the place. Pure and simple.

She lapsed into silence and gazed at the cultivated farmland slipping past the car window. By any measure, it was a beautiful sight. The carpets of verdant green fields stretched into the distance, prosperous, rich, and full of new promise. The founders would have been proud. The knowledge did nothing to lessen Amaryllis's dislike of Lower Bellevue and the surrounding environs.

“You okay?” Lucas asked after a while.

Amaryllis crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “Yes.”

Lucas slanted her another sidelong glance. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Lucas's hands tightened on the steering bar. “Don't lie to me. Please, don't do that.”

“Lucas, for heavens' sake.” Stunned by the harshness of his voice, Amaryllis turned abruptly in her seat. “I never meant—”

“Look, we've established that I'm not real good at second-guessing other people. Just give me the truth, that's
all I ask. If you've changed your mind about marrying me, tell me now. Get it over with.”

“But I wasn't even thinking about our marriage,” she said gently. “I was thinking about how much I detest Lower Bellevue.”

He looked disconcerted by her response. “The town?”

“I love my family, but I hate the place where I grew up. Do you think that's so strange, under the circumstances?”

“No.” Lucas's hand relaxed slightly. “No, I guess not. Your uncle said you had it rough here when you were a kid.”

“My family tried, but they couldn't always protect me from the other kids. Or from the Baileys. Funny how you can't shake old memories of your childhood. You'd think that once you're an adult, you could just close the door on the past. But it doesn't work like that, does it?”

“No. It doesn't. Sometimes you just have to learn to be stronger than your own past.” Lucas took one hand off the bar and reached across the seat to wrap Amaryllis's fingers in his.

She was amazed at the depth of the comfort she took from the simple gesture. After a moment she raised his hand to her mouth and brushed her lips across his bold knuckles.

“I've been thinking,” Lucas said after a moment.

“About what?”

“About the fact that your uncle will be the tough one. If I can convince Oscar that it's all right for you to marry me, I have a hunch that the rest of the family will go along with his judgment. Am I right?”

She glanced at him in surprise. “Well, yes, I suppose so. But I think you're worrying about this far too much, Lucas. My family will come around once they get used to the idea of a nonagency marriage. And Uncle Oscar is really just a big softy at heart.”

Lucas gave her his humorless smile. “Your uncle is going to try to rip my head off my shoulders.”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Amaryllis, I may not be the most intuitive man who ever lived, but I think I've got a pretty good fix on your uncle. He's going to try to rip my head off my shoulders.”

* * *

Oscar tried to rip Lucas's head off his shoulders.

Lucas gave him credit for waiting until they were closeted together in Oscar's study.

“What the hell do you think you're doing, Trent?” Oscar stalked back and forth in front of his desk, hands clasped behind his back, chin outthrust. “We're still recovering from the news that Amaryllis was nearly murdered a couple of nights ago by a city-state senator, no less, and now you land on my doorstep and tell me you're planning to run off with her in a nonagency marriage.”

“We're not exactly going to run off.” Lucas stayed seated in the chair near the window. His instincts told him that he looked less threatening in that position. “You'll all be invited to the wedding.”

“There isn't going to be a wedding.” Oscar's bushy brows bristled. “At least, not to you. Not if I can help it.” He paused, clearly struck by a horrifying thought. “By the five hells, she'd better not be pregnant. If you got her pregnant thinking that would force the issue, I swear I'll beat you to death with my own hands right here and now.”

“Amaryllis is not pregnant. Sir, I think there are some things you should take into consideration before you make any hasty decisions.”

“Such as?”

Lucas met his eyes. “Amaryllis is more important to me than anything or anyone else on the planet. If she'll have me, and she's said that she will, I'm going to marry her. I will do so, regardless of her family's opinions on the matter. But both of us would prefer to have your blessing.”

“My blessing?” Oscar's voice rose to a roar. “For a nonagency marriage?”

“I know you would have preferred a proper agency-matched arrangement.”

“You're damned right. And it's what she's going to have. Do you hear me, Trent?”

Lucas winced. “I hear you. Hell, the whole house probably hears you.”

Oscar curled one thick hand into a fist and slammed it down on the desk. “I will not stand for this, Trent. I will not
allow Amaryllis to risk her happiness on a nonagency marriage, and that's final.”

Lucas felt his determination to remain calm, polite, and nonthreatening start to slip away. He got to his feet. “Sir, I respect your desire to protect your niece.”

“Good. Because that's exactly what I'm going to do, damn you.”

“I think you should remember that Amaryllis is an adult, however. In the end, this is not your decision. It's hers.”

Oscar took his massive fist off the desk and launched a solid punch at Lucas.

Lucas ducked. The blow struck the lamp beside the chair. It crashed to the floor. With a growl of rage, Oscar charged.

The wall that divided the kitchen from the study shuddered. Amaryllis, seated at the table with Hannah and her great-aunt, Sophy, jumped. “My God, what are they doing in there?”

Hannah, interrupted in the middle of an earnest lecture on the pitfalls of nonagency marriages, frowned in concern. “It sounds as if something fell.”

Amaryllis shot to her feet. “They're fighting. Good heavens, Lucas was right. Uncle Oscar is trying to rip his head off his shoulders.”

“Beating each other's brains out, no doubt.” Sophy helped herself to a cherry-grape from the bowl in the center of the table. “Typical approach of the male of the species to any problem involving interpersonal relationships. They find it so much simpler to just pound away on each other than to actually sit down and discuss the situation.”

Amaryllis whirled toward the door. “We've got to stop them.”

Hannah pushed back her chair. “Perhaps we'd better call Cousin Charles.”

“Sit down,” Sophy ordered sharply. “Both of you.”

Amaryllis and Hannah exchanged uneasy glances and then looked at the older woman. Sophy regarded them with unruffled aplomb.

“I said sit.”

Amaryllis and Hannah sat.

Sophy's eyes gleamed with satisfaction. She was eighty-two years old, and she rarely exerted her authority as the unofficial matriarch of the family, but when she chose to do so, people generally responded briskly.

“Now, then,” Sophy said smoothly. “Let's leave the gentlemen to their discussion. We were having our own little chat, as I recall. Hannah, I believe you were saying something about the wisdom of waiting until the right man came along.”

“Lucas is the right man for me,” Amaryllis said. “I know you don't understand how I can be so certain, but I am certain.” Another thud from the vicinity of the study made her flinch. “We can't just sit here and pretend nothing is happening in there.”

“Don't see why not,” Sophy said. “Trust me, young lady, I've been around a lot longer than you have and I've learned a few things about men.” She paused. “I also know something about situations such as this one.”

“What are you talking about?” Amaryllis demanded.

Hannah looked at Sophy in surprise. “Yes, what do you mean by that?”

“I refer to my own colorful past.” Sophy smiled beatifically and reached for the bottle of cooking brandy that she had been using earlier to flavor the stew. “Amaryllis isn't the first female in this family to make a nonagency marriage, you know.”