Cutler 3 - Twilight's Child (18 page)

"Now Laura Sue, don't," Bronson chided gently, putting his glass of sherry down and going to her. He sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.

"Well, she doesn't know. She hates me because she doesn't know what I went through." She looked up at him, gazing into his eyes through her tears now.

Bronson turned to me, his eyes showing such intensity and purpose, it made my breath catch and a lump come into my throat.

"Perhaps," he said, "it's time she knew it all, then." Mother looked up sharply, fear shadowing her face. Bronson patted her hand.

"It's time, Laura Sue," he repeated.

"I just can't," Mother cried. "It's too painful for me even to think about and remember these things, much less talk about them anymore," she pleaded, and she shook her head vigorously.

"Then let me," Bronson said. "If possible, I don't want any hard feelings among us—not now, not at the beginning of a new start. I want us to all feel like family."

Mother closed her eyes and sucked in her breath. Then she pulled herself to her feet.

"Do what must be done," she said. "I'm exhausted and too upset to listen. I want to go back to the hotel," she said.

"All right," Bronson said. "Perhaps James will escort you, and Dawn can stay here and talk. I'll send her home with my car and driver."

"Sure,″ Jimmy said, rising.

"Jimmy should hear anything that has to be said, too," I declared. Jimmy stepped in front of me and leaned down to whisper.

"Maybe he wants to talk to you alone, Dawn. Maybe he'll be uncomfortable with another man listening. You can fill me in later." He squeezed my hand reassuringly and then turned and nodded to Bronson and Mother.

"Thank you, Bronson," Mother said, relieved. "It was a wonderful evening, and I would like to keep it that way in my storehouse of memories." She flashed a smile at me. Randolph escorted her and Jimmy out.

Moments later he returned, sat down across from me, crossed his legs, lifted his glass of sherry to his lips and began.

7

"FIRST I SHOULD TELL YOU A LITTLE ABOUT MYSELF," BRONSON said, "so that you will be able to better understand how and why events unfolded as they did."

That charming yet provocative smile left his face, and his manner turned very intense as he leaned forward to lock his eyes with mine.

"I was born into money and position and had a rather comfortable childhood. My father was a firm man who came from hardy stock, but my mother was a very warm and devoted person, devoted to my father, devoted to her children and devoted to the Alcott image.

"Right from the start, both Alexandria and I were taught how important that image was. We were made to understand that we had a responsibility to maintain our high standing. We were told that people looked up to us, that we were, in a sense, the new ruling class of the South. We had money and power—power to affect other people's lives.

"As an investor and a banker, my father controlled the destinies of many. In short, I was brought up believing I was some sort of prince, and some day I would inherit my father's throne and rule in the Alcott tradition."

He leaned back, templing his fingers under his chin a moment, and then smiled.

"It was all a bit overdramatized, but as it is with most people of some position and wealth, they began to believe their own publicity. Father certainly did.

"Anyway," he continued, his eyes somewhat wistful now, "as I told you, Alexandria was born with a crippling ailment. Because of that and because of how self-important we were made to feel, she became more and more melancholy. She felt the disease was somehow her fault and always believed she was disappointing my parents, especially my father.

"Despite her sickness, she was an excellent student, always trying harder and harder to achieve. I loved her dearly and would do anything in my power for her."

He smiled softly.

"She was always chastising me for spending too much time with her. 'You should be off doing things with your friends,' she would say, 'chasing after pretty girls and not spending all your time with your crippled sister.' But alas, I couldn't desert her.

"When no one asked her to the high school prom, I took her myself and forced her to go, even though she couldn't dance. I would be the one to take her to movies or shows, the one who insisted she go for motor rides down the seashore or into the mountains. I took her sailing and even horseback riding, when she was still well enough to do those things. After a while anything she saw or did, she saw or did because of my insistence.

"Oh, what difference does it make, Bronson?' she would ask when I would stubbornly persist. I didn't want to say it, but I wanted to squeeze everything into her life that I could, knowing she didn't have long to live. But then again, it didn't have to be said; she understood.

"Anyway, I suppose my devotion to Alexandria put some young women off. There were snide remarks and ugly rumors spread about us—to most it was unnatural that a brother and a sister should be so close—but I wasn't about to turn my back on Alexandria just to please some gossips and chase some conceited, pretty young skirt."

"My mother was one of those young women, wasn't she?" I asked confidently.

He stared at me blankly for a moment or so, drumming his fingertips on the arm of his chair before he got up to stand before the wide wall of windows, staring out at the gardens and beyond toward the sea. Finally he turned back to me, his eyes revealing a deep inner agony I could understand, for I recognized it as the agony a man feels when he longs for a woman who seems forever beyond his reach. I had seen this look in Jimmy's eyes occasionally when we were growing up together, believing we were brother and sister, and feeling emotions and longings we thought were indecent.

"Your mother," he began, "was and still is one of the most beautiful women in Cutler's Cove, and like all beautiful women, she has a certain amount of vanity."

"Mother," I said dryly, "has far more than her fair share of vanity."

He started to smile but stopped and shook his head.

"I won't deny that, but I understand why it is so." He paused for a moment and thought. "You don't know much about your mother's family, her childhood, do you?"

"No. She never talks about it, and whenever I did ask her questions she always answered quickly, impatiently, as if I were annoying her, so I stopped. All I really know," I said, "is that she was an only child, and that both her parents are dead."

"Yes, she was an only child, a young girl who adored—no, practically worshipped her father. But Simon Thomas was a rake if there ever was one and didn't give her the attention she needed so desperately. His reputation for womanizing was always a topic of conversation. Her poor mother suffered so and tried to pretend all was well. Laura Sue," he stressed, "comes from a world of illusion and deceit, distrust and betrayal.

"Consequently," he continued, his eyes serious, "she craved attention, craved love, and was far more demanding than any other woman I knew.

"But I was desperately in love with her from the first moment I set eyes on her. I remember," he said, a smile returning to those aqua eyes, "parking my car at the corner of her street and sitting in it for hours just to catch a glimpse of her coming and going."

He paused, as if the image of my mother as a young girl was projected on the wall across from him.

"Anyway," he said, snapping out of his reverie, "I began to court her, and for a while we were quite a striking couple. But after my mother contracted a rapidly destructive blood cancer and died, I felt even more of a need to spend time with Alexandria. She was so shattered by my mother's unexpected passing."

"And your precious Laura Sue, my mother," I said, jumping ahead, "was upset about all the attention you were giving your sister?"

"Laura Sue needed a man who would make her the very center of his existence," he explained. "I wanted to be that man, desperately wanted it, but I couldn't turn my back on Alexandria."

"So Mother turned her back on you," I said. "Why do you still care for her, knowing how self-centered she is and was?" I wondered aloud. "Is love so blind? Are men really such fools?"

He laughed.

"Perhaps," he said. "But for a young woman who has suffered something of a tragic romance herself, you don't show very much compassion and understanding."

I blushed. Was he right? Was I turning into the hard, cold person Jimmy was afraid I would become?

"I'm sorry," I said.

He returned to his chair and sipped some more of his sherry. Then he leaned back and templed his hands under his chin again.

"Laura Sue went off to finishing school, and I directed all my energies into my work. I tried to hide my emotional pain from Alexandria, but she was a very perceptive person, especially when it came to anything concerning me. I know she suffered terrible guilt, thinking she was destroying my life, and she tried to get me to spend less time with her. She even begged my father to put her into a facility for the handicapped, but he was embarrassed by her illness and refused to acknowledge it.

"Not long after, I heard that Laura Sue had become engaged to Randolph Cutler. It was strange," he said, shaking his head and smiling warmly, "but it was as if a cloud had been lifted. Now that there was no longer any chance of my having Laura Sue, the torment ended for a while."

"Did you have another romance?" I asked quickly.

"Nothing serious. Perhaps I had a distrust of love by then," he added, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "It was a particularly hard period of life for me anyway. My father suffered a heart attack. He lingered for weeks in the hospital until he finally died. After his death I assumed his position in the bank.

"Now there was only Alexandria and me. But her condition was growing worse. I hired a full-time nurse, took my meals with her in her room, wheeled her about in her wheelchair whenever I could; in short, spent even more time with her, knowing her days were limited. She never complained and did all that she could to make herself less of a burden.

"Finally, one night she died in her sleep. Even in death she had this gentle smile on her lips." Tears filled his eyes and began to descend down his cheeks. He didn't wipe them away; he stared ahead as if oblivious to his own crying.

I couldn't keep back my own tears, which had begun to burn behind my eyelids. When he saw me grinding them away with my small fists, he straightened up. His tears had stopped, but the anguish in his eyes remained.

"By now, of course, Laura Sue and Randolph had married, and Philip had been born. Because the bank had such a close financial relationship to the hotel, I was often invited to dine with Mrs. Cutler and would sit at the table with her, Randolph and Laura Sue."

"That must have been difficult for you," I said, "knowing how much you had loved her."

"Yes," he said, happy with my understanding. "Actually, it was exquisite torment. I longed for those times, those opportunities to be at her side, to see her and talk with her and feel her hand in mine when we greeted each other. And I was soon convinced that I saw something burning for me in her eyes when we gazed at each other.

"Those were particularly difficult days for Laura Sue. Mrs. Cutler was never happy about Randolph's marrying her, and Mrs. Cutler was not one to hide her feelings. You could cut the air between her and Laura Sue; that's how thick it was with the dislike they had for each other.

"But Mr. Cutler was a different story. Randolph's father had a reputation for being something of a rake. He loved to charm the young women who came to the hotel, and there were always stories about his illicit affairs. Of course, no one dared say anything about it in front of Mrs. Cutler. She was quite a woman—diminutive in body, but towering and impressive."

"I'm quite aware of how impressive she was," I said sharply.

"What? Oh, yes, yes. Anyway, late one night I heard the chimes ring and then heard Livingston go to the door. I threw on my robe and slipped into my slippers quickly and came down the stairs to see Laura Sue. It was immediately evident that she was distraught to the point of hysteria. She had thrown on any old clothes, her hair was wild; she wasn't wearing any makeup, and her eyes were bloodshot. Livingston was literally terrified by the sight of her.

"I took her into this room and got her some sherry. She gulped the glass down and then fell back on the sofa and burst into tears, gasping words. Gradually I put everything she was saying together into some sensible order and realized she was telling me her father-in-law had raped her.

"Naturally, I was shocked. My mood moved from astonishment to pity to outrage. Twice I started out of the house to go to the hotel and tear the man apart, but twice she begged me not to do it.

"Finally, we both calmed down. I held her in my arms for hours, kissing her and reassuring her that I would be at her side to help her in any way I could. I promised her I would get her the finest attorney. I offered her my home, but she was frightened, and no matter how much I pledged my support, she couldn't be persuaded to take legal action.

"But"—he looked away and then turned back—"we knew we loved each other, and we admitted it openly. She stayed with me that night," he confessed.

"After she had just been raped?" I asked incredulously.

"We only held each other. The next morning she returned to the hotel, but she was to come back to me often from time to time. We thought it best I not go to the hotel. Mrs. Cutler stopped inviting me anyway." For a moment he blushed with shame and guilt. Then he straightened up in his seat and took a deep breath.

"Mrs. Cutler was not someone who missed anything that was going on around her, no matter how furtive and careful we were. Soon afterward, Laura Sue realized she was pregnant with you, and, counting back the weeks, also realized you were Mr. Cutler's child. When Laura Sue announced her pregnancy, Mrs. Cutler accused her of having an affair with me and assumed I was your father.

"She and Laura Sue had it out, and Laura Sue told her what her husband had done to her. Of course, Lillian Cutler refused to acknowledge it openly, but Laura Sue and I both feel that inwardly Mrs. Cutler knew it was true. Threats were exchanged, Mrs. Cutler pledging to cause a scandal for Laura should she as much as whisper this tale to anyone. She said she would simply bring witnesses to testify that Laura Sue and I were having an affair, showing that you had to be my child, and Laura Sue would be disgraced for falsely accusing Mr. Cutler. Laura Sue was no match for Mrs. Cutler. I often tried to get her to leave Randolph and marry me, but she was afraid.

"Not long afterward, Mr. Cutler suffered his stroke, and after a week or so he passed away. With him gone, Laura Sue felt she had no way of ever proving what he had done.

"As the date of your birth drew closer and closer Mrs. Cutler tightened her grip around Laura Sue, even to the point of bringing her attorney in to outline for Laura Sue what sort of things she would do to her if she didn't obey her every command.

"She terrorized her into accepting the kidnapping hoax, thus eliminating you from the scene. You know the details of that story," he added.

"Yes," I said sharply. "Unfortunately, I do."

"But you don't know the pain and the sorrow Laura Sue felt afterward. She was haunted by guilt," he said.