The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse? (22 page)

Once outside, Lexie looked toward the river where the sun was slipping below the horizon. Men and women chatted as they passed her on the way to the dining room to join those already inside. With the absence of sunlight, the temperature had dropped, and the moist chill of southern winters returned. Lexie turned away from the front of the building and hurried along the sidewalk in the opposite direction. When she reached the far end of the building, she moved around to the side, searching for the outside staircase the employees used.

The dim twilight disappeared into darkness where no other lights illuminated the area. Lexie found herself treading in the damp grass, staying close to the shrubbery as she searched for the stairs. An eerie sense of solitude played with Lexie’s imagination, taunting her with fears of isolation. Everyone else was inside the clubhouse where it was warm. She was the only one outside. Alone. In the dark.

Maybe she should abandon her idea. But when she saw the staircase on the end of the building, she sighed relief and hurried toward it. As she reached the steps, she grabbed the handrail and took a step up.

The bushes rustled nearby and she paused, her breath stuck in her throat. What was that noise? She took another step, then heard movement behind her. Someone was there.

“What you doin’ out here by yourself?”

Lexie jumped at the deep voice so near. She knew that voice. She slowly turned around and faced Abner Jones standing at the foot of the stairs, blocking her retreat. She could barely make out his face in the darkness, but there was no doubt it was him.

A battle of emotions erupted inside her. Part of her wanted to run. Or scream. Or both. “Abner is harmless,” Russell had said. Was he right?
She hoped so.

“One sure thing about Abner is his loyalty,” Marian Maurice had affirmed.

Those people had no fear of the man, so why should she? And if he was truly loyal to her grandfather, why would he want harm to come to her, the granddaughter?
Okay, Lexie, here’s your chance to treat the man with respect, not like a strange animal the way many mentally disturbed people are treated
. Wasn’t that what she believed?

Lexie took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly.

“Mr. Jones, you startled me. I just thought I’d go up to my room this way for a change.” Did that sound as ridiculous to him as it did to her?

“Young ladies like you shouldn’t be out here by theirselves at night.”

“Yes, well, I was just going up the stairs.”

He stepped closer and lowered his voice.

“It’s dangerous out here.”

“Thank you for your concern, but I think everyone here is friendly.”

“You don’t understan’. There’s enemies around.”

A chill ran through Lexie. “Enemies? You mean Nazis?”

Did he nod his head? It was hard to tell in the dark.

“Germans. And spies.”

Spies? Did he know who they were?

“Oh! Well, thank you for keeping an eye out for them.”

The chilly air penetrated Lexie’s clothes, and she began to shiver. She had to get inside—to get warm and to end this conversation. She turned to continue up the stairs, wondering what he would say or do next. As an idea came to her, she stopped and spun around. Somehow, she summoned the strength to do what she had to do.

She stepped back down to where Abner Jones still stood.

“Mr. Jones, I understand you saved my grandfather’s life.”

“That’s what he told people. I just did my duty.”

“Well, I want to thank you. If you hadn’t saved him, I wouldn’t have known him.”

She extended her gloved hand.

For a few moments, no one moved. Then slowly, Abner Jones lifted his hand and allowed her to shake it before he dropped it back down by his side. Then he raised it again and moved it across his face. Did she hear him sniff? The moon peeked out from the clouds and glistened off the trail of tears that ran down the weathered face.

Lexie’s heart squeezed with compassion for the poor old man.

After a weighty silence, he cleared his throat.

“Miss Smithfield, you’re a lot like your grandpa.”

Lexie fought back her own tears. No one had ever told her that. And no one could have paid her a higher compliment.

“Thank you, Mr. Jones. That means a lot to me.” She smiled at the man, hoping he could see her face in the moonlight. “Well, good night.” She turned once again to go up the stairs.

“Miss Smithfield?”

She paused and looked back over her shoulder.

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

He was not a threat to her anymore. So who was?

Chapter 25

W
hen Lexie reached the back door to the second floor, she gripped the doorknob, anxious to get inside. But before she went in, she had an idea. What if she went all the way to the top where Russell’s office was?

She reached the fourth-floor landing, winded from the long climb and freezing from the cold. She pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, hoping no one would see her enter from the servants’ stairs. She tiptoed down the hall, passing some of the staff bedrooms. Other rooms had the doors open and inside them, Lexie noticed stacks of trunks and suitcases where the luggage was stored for the season.

At the opposite end of the hall, voices rose and fell, telling Lexie the meeting was still in progress. From the sound, she guessed several people were involved. She couldn’t very well stand in the hallway listening, but she needed to know when the meeting ended. As she considered her options, she heard footsteps tramping down the wood floors in her direction.

She ducked into one of the open storage rooms and hid behind a huge trunk, her heart racing.

The steps passed her and continued until she heard a door close down the hall. She listened for more noise, and hearing none, stepped from her hiding place and into the corridor, right into the path of the boat captain. His eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed as his perpetual frown returned.

Lexie searched for an explanation. “I was just looking for my bag … I believe I left a scarf in it.”

He harrumphed before mumbling, “Excuse me,” as he walked past her toward the stairway at the end.

The voices coming from the direction of Russell’s office grew louder, indicating the door had opened and people were leaving the meeting. She scurried down the main staircase to the third floor, a more logical place for her to be—on a guest room level. If she timed it just right, she could pretend she was going up while the others were coming down.
Sure enough, several male staff members passed her. When the young waiter Walter saw her, a smile lit up his face.

“Good evening, Miss Smithfield! How are you today?”

His youthful enthusiasm made Lexie feel so much older than the few years’ difference between them. He didn’t seem to have a care in the world, his attitude as yet unspoiled by the realities of life. And yet, soon he would be exposed to the harshest truths of war. She remembered Russell’s promise to pray for the young man and wanted to do the same, if she only knew how. God would listen to Russell’s prayers—he was the faithful churchgoer. But God would probably be offended if she asked him for anything.

She could at least offer a smile. “Very well, thank you, Walter. Do you know where I might find Mr. Thompson?”

“Sure. He’s coming downstairs behind me.” He glanced up over his shoulder before trotting down the stairs.

Lexie followed his gaze and saw Russell turn the corner of the staircase above. Upon seeing her, the lines in his face relaxed and his welcome smile appeared along with his endearing dimple.

“Good evening, Lexie. Fancy meeting you here.” He winked, and her face warmed.

She pursed her lips and tried to act nonchalant. “Russell, I hoped I might run into you.”

He cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? What a nice surprise.”

Once again, heat rushed to her neck and face. “I need to talk to you about something that happened today—actually, a couple of things that happened today.”

He came alongside her and placed his hand on the small of her back. With the other hand, he gestured down the steps. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“So will you join me? I’m famished, and we can talk in the dining room.”

“But … can we? I’d like our conversation to be kept private.”

He cast a sidelong glance at her. “I’ll request a table at the back of the dining room.” He checked his watch. “Most of the early diners should be gone by now, including the Appletons.”

How nice to know he appreciated her need for privacy.

“Good.” She nodded and headed into the dining room, grateful to
have his company.

Waiters cleared dishes from the half-empty dining room when they entered. They walked all the way back to the rear corner of the room where she took a seat with her back to the rest of the patrons. The dim candlelight glowed golden, soothing Lexie with its gentle embrace.

As Russell placed his napkin in his lap, he said, “So did you enjoy your outing with the Maurice sisters?”

She nodded, waiting until their server took their order before responding.

“Quite enjoyable. They’re very nice ladies and made me feel very comfortable.”

“Good. I thought you’d enjoy being with them. Did you have a fourth?”

“Yes, Mrs. Prentice.”

“Of course. She’s a good bridge player.” With a twinkle in his eye, he added, “Did you win?”

“No. My bridge game is a bit rusty.”

“No doubt the rust will wear off with a little practice, then the ladies better look out.”

“Russell, please. I don’t want to talk to you about bridge.”

His face sobered. “I’m sorry, what else did you want to discuss?”

“After tea, we went out for a carriage ride.”

“Good old Charlie Hill.”

“Yes, well, we stopped at the beach for a while. We saw a man out there patrolling—someone I didn’t recognize.”

She studied Russell’s reaction, but his blank expression revealed nothing, so she continued.

“While we were there, we heard, and actually felt, a large boom. The man on the beach fixed his binoculars out to sea. I looked, too, and thought I saw a trail of smoke in the distance. Did you hear it? Do you know what it was?”

He examined his fork before answering.

“No on both counts. I did not hear it, and I don’t know what it was.”

“But you heard about it, didn’t you? Do you think it could have been a German submarine? What if they torpedoed one of our ships?”

Russell remained unusually quiet, as if contemplating her question. The muffled sound of voices at other tables blended with the tinkling of silver and crystal while Lexie waited for his answer. When he didn’t respond, she persisted.

“Russell, you must know something about this. Please tell me.”

He looked up at her with an expression so grave it frightened her.

“I did hear about it. The patrol reported what they heard and saw. We called the Coast Guard, but they haven’t confirmed an attack.”

“But it could have been.”

“Yes, it could have been.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “But Lexie, if that’s the case, it happened miles off our shore—maybe ten or fifteen miles at least. If the German submarines are out there, they’re not firing at the land, they’re firing at other ships.”

“And that doesn’t affect us?”

“Not directly, no”

The waiter arrived at their table holding a tray aloft with their meals. Lexie held her tongue until he’d placed their food in front of them. Russell thanked him and the waiter excused himself.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Lexie faced Russell again. “So you’re not going to tell anybody about it? What about those of us who heard and felt it?”

“I can’t tell what I don’t know, and there’s no need to upset people without proof. I’m sure the Coast Guard will tell us if anything significant happened. I promise I’ll let you know what I find out.”

Lexie stared into his green eyes, so intense as he studied her. She had to believe him. Who else could she trust? She pushed her food around and took a few nibbles of her salad. An image of Abner Jones’ face in the moonlight came to her mind.

“You know, Russell, I’m not afraid of Abner Jones anymore.”

He glanced up at her and lifted his eyebrows as he took a bite of steak. “Did something happen to change your mind about him?”

“Yes, the Maurice sisters told me why Grandfather was so indebted to him, why he got Abner out of the mental hospital. Apparently, when they were in the war, Abner saved Grandfather’s life.”

“You didn’t know that? I thought you did.”

“No, well at least I don’t remember if I heard about it as a child.”

“And that made your opinion of Abner change?”

“I think so. I saw him earlier tonight.” She stopped. How could she tell him what happened without revealing her trip up the servants’ stairs? She fingered her pearl necklace while trying to figure out how to explain her meeting with Abner.