Lily (Song of the River) (6 page)

Jean Luc pushed back his chair, indignation and horror fighting inside him. Had he stumbled into a nightmare? Surely Blake Matthews hadn’t dared to come here to demand payment. But he could not ignore the evidence. “Shouldn’t you be on your boat?”

A tight smile appeared on the man’s face. “I would be, but I cannot gain access.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Jean Luc tried for an imperious stare. All he needed to do was imitate his father’s expression. “But I don’t understand what I have to do with that unfortunate circumstance.”

“I’m not talking about the
Lucky Lucy.
” His eyes glittered like shards of glass. “I’m referring to the boat I won from you last evening, the
Hattie Belle.
”

“What?” Jean Luc’s father looked from Matthews to his son. “What is he talking about, Jean Luc?”

“I’m sure I haven’t the slightest idea.” Jean Luc dropped back into his dining chair. “Mr. Matthews must have me confused with someone else.”

The genial host he vaguely remembered from the night before had disappeared. In his place stood an angry volcano. Mr. Matthews took two long strides toward the table, his hand reaching for something in the inside pocket of his coat. Was he going to shoot him here in his family’s home?

The gambler pulled out a sheet of paper and held it in front of Jean Luc. “Are you going to deny this IOU?”

Jean Luc opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

His father stalked over and grabbed the piece of paper. “What is this?” His eyes perused the short statement. “It says that you have sworn to turn over the deed to the
Hattie Belle
in lieu of the debt you owe Mr. Matthews.” He balled up the paper and tossed it on the table.

All three men watched as it bounced off the edge of Jean Luc’s dinner plate and rolled toward a pair of lit candles in the center of the table.

“That paper has your son’s signature on it. And I have half a dozen witnesses who will verify he signed without any duress. He was certain he held the winning hand, but alas, the cards were against him.”

“You were against me, you mean.” Jean Luc could hear the note of panic in his voice. He cleared his throat and looked at his father. Papa’s face had aged ten years in ten minutes. A stabbing pain of remorse shot through him. But it was too late for remorse. He would bluff his way through this. Surely his father would believe his word over that of some stranger. “I don’t owe this man anything.”

“Did you go to his gambling hall last night?”

“Yes, but—”

His father pointed a finger toward the note. “Did someone else sign that or force you to?”

Reluctantly, Jean Luc shook his head.

More color drained from his father’s face. “Go upstairs and get the deed.”

“But Papa, the game was fixed.”

A sound from Mr. Matthews indicated he was ready to defend himself. Jean Luc’s father turned toward him. “I apologize for my son. He has no excuse for his words or his behavior.”

“You don’t have to apologize for him. Jean Luc is a grown man.”

“Apparently he’s more immature than I had hoped.” Papa turned back to him. “Get—the—deed. Now!”

The last word propelled Jean Luc from his chair. He practically ran from the room, his humiliation complete. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have gambled away the first thing his father had entrusted to him? How would he ever make up for his colossal error?

The questions chased him upstairs and circled in his mind as he unlocked the box. Hot tears blurred the words on the deed. He wiped them away with an angry hand before they could fall on the paper. He would be a man about this.

Jean Luc considered several scenarios. Could he claim the deed had disappeared or been stolen? No one would believe such a coincidence. Besides, since Blake had the IOU, he could force Jean Luc to have an attorney draft a new deed.

He had to give the deed over to the nefarious gambler tonight, but he would find a way to get it back. He had been cheated. None of the provincials in this backwater town could have defeated him honestly. He had played in some of the best gaming halls in France, and he’d never had such ill luck.

He had hoped to have a few days to find out how he’d been cheated, but that was not to be. He had to temporarily admit defeat. But one day he would prove his suspicions and wrest his property back from Blake Matthews. He would do whatever was necessary, no matter how difficult. He would once again bask in the glory of his father’s approval. On the day he succeeded, he would make Mr. Matthews pay for his humiliation. On that day, he would put his boot on Mr. Matthew’s neck and make him scream for mercy. On that day, everything would be right again.

Halting steps brought him back to the dining room. It was galling to have to look up at the man as he handed him the deed. Before his father could prompt him, Jean Luc bowed. “I hope you will forgive me for what I said earlier. I was overset.”

The other man’s shoulders relaxed a tiny bit. “It is hard to admit one’s mistakes.”

“Yes.” He watched as Matthews took his leave, studying each movement the man made. He needed every advantage if he was going to defeat his adversary.

B
irds chirped in the warm air, undisturbed by grief or other human concerns. Lily wanted to shoo them away. Perhaps if they weren’t singing, she could summon tears like those that washed the cheeks of her grandmother and her sister Camellia.

But her heart had turned to stone. It was as though her emotions had left when Grandfather’s soul departed his mortal remains. She moved through the days like a shadow, drifting from room to room as she considered what life had become without him.

His strength had seemed indomitable. But in the end, he had succumbed to death as any other man. In the end, he had left her alone to fend for herself in much the same way her father had all those years ago. Of course, her father had chosen to leave her; Grandfather had remained until his health failed.

Lily picked at the heavy black material of her wide skirt as Camellia placed a bouquet of fresh flowers on Grandfather’s grave. She was worried about her sister. Camellia had always been Grandfather’s favorite, his perfect little lady.

Golden ringlets moved with Camellia as she traced the marble headstone with a gloved hand. “I miss him so much.”

“As do we all, Camellia.” Grandmother’s voice was choked with tears but still managed to convey warmth. “It is hard to say good-bye to our loved ones, but it is given to man to die.”

“Grandfather would be pleased with the flowers.” Lily forced her lips to curve upward as she met Camellia’s blue gaze. The smile became more natural as she considered how beautiful her fair sister looked in her mourning clothes. Not that Camellia ever looked less than lovely.

“Do you think so?” Camellia’s hopeful words wrung her heart.

“I think Grandfather is flying around heaven with his new wings.” Jasmine flapped her arms and ran around a nearby tree, her black dress making her look more like a crow than an angel.

Laughter threatened to bubble up as Lily thought they probably looked like a flock of crows in their black dresses.

“Jasmine, get back here.” Aunt Dahlia clapped her hands. She turned to Lily, a frown on her face. “I don’t know where she gets her manners. Can you not do anything to control her?”

Lily felt the stab of her relative’s disapproving gaze. “Jasmine, please come here.”

With a whooshing sound, the young girl complied, letting her arms drop to her sides.

“You must learn to act like a lady.” Aunt Dahlia clipped her words as though her tongue were a pair of scissors. “You should try to emulate your sister Camellia.”

Lily wanted to contradict her. One prissy girl was enough for any family. She loved Camellia, but she had none of Jasmine’s playful exuberance. Lily put a protective arm around her youngest sister and squeezed.

Jasmine looked up at her, her violet-hued eyes wide. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Jasmine, but you need to think before you act.”

“I won’t do it again.” The young girl’s lower lip trembled. Tears threatened.

Lily wanted to comfort her, but she could feel her aunt watching them so she sighed and nodded.

“Tamar, come take the girls back to the house.” Aunt Dahlia beckoned to the middle-aged black woman standing a little apart from them. “We need to talk a bit before we rejoin Phillip for afternoon tea.”

Lily supposed she should be flattered to be included as an adult, but she had an idea she was not going to enjoy the talk her aunt had in mind.

Her bonnet ribbon fluttered in a light breeze, tickling her cheek. Lily caught it between her fingers and pleated it with restless fingers.

“Quit fidgeting, child.” Aunt Dahlia’s frown deepened. “It’s no wonder Jasmine is so restive.”

Grandmother closed her eyes. “That’s enough, Dahlia.”

Aunt Dahlia’s mouth dropped open. She was not used to anyone challenging her opinions. She unfurled her fan, whipping up a breeze to cool her reddened cheeks. “I suppose I should not be surprised, Mother. You never have exercised enough control over your granddaughters. If you are not careful, Lily will become a spinster and rely on you to provide for her the rest of her life.”

Grandmother stepped closer to Lily and took her hand. “You’re being ridiculous, Dahlia. Lily is barely eighteen years old. She has plenty of time to choose a husband.”

“That might be true if we were speaking of Camellia. But Lily is no raving beauty.”

If she had not been so numb, Lily supposed the cruel words would have hurt.

“Lily has a great deal to offer any man lucky enough to win her affection.” Grandmother’s defense had the same effect as Aunt Dahlia’s attack.

“Win her affection?” Aunt Dahlia blew out a harsh breath. “It’s not as though the whole town is lined up at my niece’s door. As far as I know, she doesn’t have a single suitor.”

Lily wasn’t surprised at her aunt’s remarks. It was true. No perspective beaus were knocking down her door. And why should they? Although she expected to inherit a respectable dowry from her grandfather, the bulk of his money and his entire estate would go to Aunt Dahlia and Uncle Phillip.

And Lily had never been under any misapprehension about her looks. She was too short to be considered fashionable, and her waist was several inches thicker than her middle sister’s. Instead of Camellia’s changeable blue gaze or Jasmine’s exotic violet irises, she boasted dull brown eyes that refused to sparkle no matter the number of candles in a room. Her hair was lifeless, too. No long, fat ringlets for her. Instead, Lily had to be satisfied with a sensible bun at the base of her neck.

Aunt Dahlia snapped her fan shut. “Luckily for you and Lily, Phillip and I have not been sitting idly by. I believe we have found a suitable candidate who is interested in courting Lily. He met her at the Champneys’ party, and even though we had to leave unexpectedly, he has assured Phillip he finds my niece acceptable.”

Clarity struck Lily with the suddenness of a lightning bolt. Her stomach clenched. The man from the party. The old man. She could stomach her aunt’s unflattering assessment of her chances to find a husband, but she refused to consider linking herself to a man who was at least twice her age.

Grandmother drew her shoulders back. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dahlia Leigh. We are still grieving. All but you. You and your husband are both too busy trying to take over the estate.”

“That’s not it—”

“Stop right there, Dahlia.” Grandmother pointed her fan at Lily’s aunt. “I have listened to you, and now you will pay me the same courtesy.” When Aunt Dahlia said nothing, she continued. “Have you forgotten that you told me the Champneys’ son danced with Lily? She lacks none of the social graces, and while she may not be a raving beauty, she has many admirable qualities.”

Lily was thankful for her grandmother’s defense, but part of her wished she were as beautiful as either of her sisters. Why did she have to be the one with admirable qualities? As young as Camellia was, men were already drawn to her whenever she was in public. Ashamed of the envy trying to take root in her heart, Lily tamped down her thoughts and concentrated on her relatives.

“Even if you were right, Dahlia, which I do not for one moment believe, Lily will always have a place of honor in my home.”

“Surely you’ll not reject this man before you meet him.” Expecting an explosion of rage from her volatile aunt, Lily was surprised at the reasonable tone of her words.

A sigh came from Grandmother. “I suppose you may invite him to visit my home, but that is all.”

“Of course, Mother.” Aunt Dahlia kissed Grandmother on the cheek and turned to retrace her steps back to the porch, her strides long and purposeful.

“That must be the attorney arriving.” Grandmother’s voice drew Lily’s attention to a carriage that had arrived at the front steps just ahead of Aunt Dahlia. “I suppose we should go in and hear what he has to tell us about your grandfather’s will.”

After a few steps, however, she turned back to Lily. “I don’t want you to worry about your aunt’s plans. She has no say in the running of the household. I promise you she will not force you into a loveless marriage.”