Deception (21 page)

Renata got up and walked to Connor. “I love Erin. I know now that I can’t do things that might hurt her. Daddy explained that I’m responsible for taking care of her at all times. Please let us ride.”

Connor smiled. She brushed Renata’s bangs back and let them fall across her forehead. “Okay. This time we’ll forget the whole thing. Just remember, Erin’s counting on your good judgment.”

“Great!” Danny threw his hands in the air. “Up until we saw the … I mean, Renata and I had a great ride up until we went too fast. Tomorrow, can we ride together again? There’s this great place Dad was telling us about where there’s a spring and all with a tree growing over it. We want to go there. To explore. There might be treasure or something there. Willene says those outlaws rode around here all the time. She said James Dickerson hid out in our very woods and he might have left something there. Renata and I might find it and then we’ll buy presents for everyone.”

Connor looked at Clay. “I’m comfortable with them riding together, are you?”

Clay nodded. “I think it’s a good idea. I want them to love Oaklawn as I do. One way to do it is to explore it and learn it for themselves. Then it will always be theirs, with their own secret places that they can show their children.”

“Dinner is served,” Willene said. She bonged a large wooden spoon on a pot. “I thought I’d announce it formally.”

Everyone laughed as they walked to the dining room and took their places.

The glance Clay gave Connor as he took his seat beside her was filled with mischief. “Eat hearty,” he whispered, “I have plans for tonight. You’re going to need your strength.”

Connor awoke the next morning to bright sunshine and an empty bed. Clay had slipped away sometime in the wee hours of the morning, dousing all the candles and removing the empty champagne bottle. She smiled at her memories.

They’d spent little time talking. Instead, they’d fallen on each other as if they’d been separated for years. When their first, driving hungers were satisfied, they’d turned playful. Clay had a way with champagne and his tongue. Even now, completely sated and bone-weary, she could still feel the rising tide of desire as she thought back over the night. There was nothing she and Clay did that seemed wrong. Tender, savage, playful or in deadly earnest, their lovemaking was wonderful. How had she ever lived without him?

She stretched, sorry to know she’d missed the early morning hours at the barn, but so satisfied that she couldn’t summon even a shred of regret. The future had never looked so promising, and the present was wonderful. She thought of her father, galavanting around Australia, and hoped he had awakened to his own version of some tantalizing promise.

In the middle of a good stretch, she snatched the covers up to her chin when there was a loud knock on her door.

“Connor?” Sally’s hesitant voice called to her. “Are you sick?”

“Not at all. Come on in.” Connor tugged up the sheet to make sure she was proper. She knew the door was unlocked. Clay never bothered to bring his key with him, and she never had the energy to follow him to the door to lock it behind him.

“Here’s some coffee. Willene said to bring it.” Sally cast her a dubious glance. Her gaze fell on the stubs of the candles that were all over the room, one of Clay’s more romantic touches. She looked away quickly. “You never sleep in, and we were worried and all, and Old Henry came up and said to tell you he’d fed and …”

“And what?”

“Mr. Sumner is here to see you.”

“Who?” Connor looked at Sally. The girl turned away.

“Dr. Sumner. Clay’s brother, the doctor.”

“He’s here to see me?” Connor couldn’t connect the chain of events. “Is it about a horse?”

“Not that I know of. He hates horses and barns and dirt and the country. Dr. Sumner likes the city. He always says how he’d rather live in New Orleans, where people are really civilized.”

Connor took the tray Sally held and sipped the black coffee. “I’ll be down as soon as I shower and dress.”

“Dr. Sumner said he would wait. He said he had to talk with you. He’s in the library.”

“I’ll be down.” Connor took the coffee with her into the bathroom as she turned on the shower. What in the world would Clay’s brother want with her? She had only a vaguely unpleasant impression of him from their first meeting in the barn. Whatever it was, she hoped it wouldn’t take long. She was already far behind on the day. She also wanted to get into Mobile for some Christmas shopping.

She didn’t bother with any makeup. She bathed, dressed, pulled her hair into an elastic band at the base of her neck, and hurried downstairs. Willene was waiting in the middle of the long hallway.

“He’s in a vile mood this morning,” she whispered. “He’s a mean man. Watch your step, Connor.”

The cook’s warnings took Connor by surprise. Willene had a sharp tongue, but there was a hint of real fear in her words. “Thanks. Do you know what he wants?”

“Not a clue. He came in here and demanded breakfast and a private moment with you. Sally and I told him you weren’t feeling well and were sleeping in, and he ordered her up there to wake you. That devil’s up to something. I can smell it about him. Even when he was a boy he was a bully.”

Connor looked down the hallway as if she expected him to materialize. “What’s his relationship with Clay?”

“Oh, Harlan loves his brother.” The sarcasm in Willene’s voice was heavy. She pushed her glasses up her nose. “He loves the fact that Clay may be a United States Senator. He loves the fact that Clay has influence and power. Other than that, Harlan isn’t capable of loving anything or anyone.”

Connor nodded. “Thanks. Now I’d better see what he wants.” She squeezed Willene’s arm as she passed by and took the right hand turn in the hall that would take her to the front entrance and the library door.

She tapped lightly and entered. Harlan was standing at the windows, the beautiful lace curtains bunched carelessly in his hand. When he dropped them, deep wrinkles remained.

“Willene said you wanted to see me.” Connor disliked the way he made her feel, a servant coming for an interview with the master.

“Feeling bad this morning, Connor? Not enough rest, maybe? Too many nocturnal activities?”

“I’m fine, Dr. Sumner. Thanks for your concern.” All civility was dropped. Connor had enough of a sixth sense to know to be on the alert. Harlan Sumner was an unpleasant man, and he intended to inflict some of that discontent on her, for whatever reason.

“You know the South has a way of troubling visitors.” He looked at her fully.

Connor was struck speechless by the intense power of his eyes. They were so like Clay’s, except where Clay’s eyes held love and humor and joy, Harlan’s were hard, mean, cold, controlling.

“People move to the South, charmed at first by the easy ways and the open hospitality of the people here. They begin to think about settling here, unaware that there are dangers at every turn. Fevers and diseases, humidity-related passions that are aroused in the blood of true southerners, which no stranger can ever really appreciate or understand.” He smiled. “Are you following me?”

“Are you claiming to live among diseased people?” Connor widened her eyes in calculated innocense. “How terrible. Is there an epidemic on the way?”

Harlan’s smile tightened. “You’re not a stupid woman. I know that much. You’re obviously talented at what you do.” His smile shifted. “Very talented to have captured my brother’s fancy. As you no doubt can tell, Clay’s quite an experienced … rider.” The leer was impossible to ignore.

“What are you getting at?” Connor felt as if something slimy had touched her skin. “Say what you came to say. I’ve got work to do at the barn.”

“You’re sleeping with my brother, and I want it to end. Clay has a tremendous future in politics. If he’s caught sleeping with someone like you, he’s finished. His first wife was an asset. His second wife will be the same, so don’t get any pie-in-the-sky dreams. Clay won’t sacrifice his brilliant future for a piece of ass. I just thought I’d tell you before you planned the wedding.”

If Connor had been holding her riding crop, she’d certainly have used it. She could almost feel the savage pleasure of lashing into Harlan Sumner’s mean, bullying face. She clenched her fists at her side. “Your arrogance is exceeded only by your stupidity.” She turned on her heel.

“I wouldn’t tell Clay I paid this little visit.”

Connor stopped, hand on the doorknob. She turned back. “I really don’t give a damn what you would or wouldn’t do, Dr. Sumner. And I don’t believe Clay holds your opinion in very high regard—about anything.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised the things Clay confides in me. I know plenty of Clay’s little secrets. Nasty secrets.” He laughed. “Take the money Clay’s paying you. Fuck him if you have to, but be a little discreet. When it’s time for you to go, pack up and don’t whine.”

The hair on Connor’s nape lifted as she turned to face the man who stood beside Clay’s chair. “Or?”

“That’s not a question you really want to learn the answer to,” Harlan said. “There are rules of behavior here in Alabama. We protect our ladies with our lives. Whores don’t fare so well.”

Connor walked out the door, pulling it closed behind her. She was trembling with fury. Her first impulse was to call Clay. To tell him immediately about Harlan’s visit and his incredibly cruel “warnings.” Using the front door, she walked outside and started down the shell drive to the barn. She was halfway there when the sense that someone was staring at her made her stop and turn around. Renata Sumner stood at the third-floor window. As soon as Connor looked up, Renata smiled, and then the blinds snapped shut. The old house winked at her once again.

“That little hussy called her uncle,” Connor whispered to herself. She had no proof, but she knew it. Renata had set her up for the encounter. If the child couldn’t frighten her away with strangers in the woods, then she’d called in her uncle. Connor’s heart contracted, a painful moment of acknowledged fear. Renata had seemed so nice at dinner, so sincere in her petitions for forgiveness. All Connor’s hopes that one day Renata would accept her seemed foolish, stupid. The dreams she had for a future with Clay were dust. She wasn’t political. Maybe she’d never be able to accomplish the gracious ease that political wives had to learn to be in the spotlight, to share the cloak of their husband’s power and fame. She was a horse trainer, an unpretentious woman with a dream of her own.

She continued on to the barn, her thoughts as dark and heavy as they’d ever been.

“You look like a mangy dog that just had the shit kicked out of it.” Jeff walked up to her.

She glared at him but refused to rise to the bait.

“I hear Dr. Sumner came for a little chat. He give you the old ‘you’re-not-good-enough-for-his-famous-brother’ lecture?”

Against her will, Connor nodded, her expression a dead giveaway.

Jeff laughed. “Harlan’s a mean son-of-a-bitch. He doesn’t come here often, but when he does, he likes to stir up as much trouble as possible. He was here the night Talla hanged herself.”

Connor didn’t understand Jeff’s chatty mood. They’d hardly spoken in the last few weeks. Still, she couldn’t resist questioning him. “Harlan was here the night Talla died? Does Clay know that?”

“As far as I know, Clay never asked if his brother was here. But I saw Harlan. He’d parked that little red sportscar he loves so much down the driveway. At least two hundred yards from the house, and I know Harlan well enough to know he don’t walk anywhere unless he has no other choice, so I figured he was hiding the car. Didn’t want us here to know he was paying such a late visit up to the main house. Up in Talla’s room.”

Jeff’s meaning was crystal-clear. The idea of Clay’s brother touching anyone in an intimate way made Connor feel slightly sick. What kind of woman would be attracted to such a bully? Talla, with her fancies for kinky sex?

As if reading her mind, Jeff spoke. “Ms. Talla liked to live on the edge. That’s what made her such an exciting woman.”

“I’m sure,” Connor said.

“Maybe if you’d show an interest in Dr. Sumner, he’d soften up toward you. He don’t like for Mr. Clay to be too selfish.”

“Harlan Sumner can go screw himself.” The idea was repulsive. It made Connor feel dirty even to think about it. “He’s an ass and a bully.”

“That’s him.” Jeff laughed. “Scratch the surface of a lot of these rich folks and you find nothing but shit. They all dress nice and talk nice and live fancy, but when it comes down to the nut-cuttin’, they’re just like everyone else.”

“Not everyone has to sink to the lowest common denominator, Jeff. There are people, rich and not so rich, who expect better of themselves.” Connor knew she sounded like a prudish schoolmarm.

“Like you, I suppose?” Jeff asked lazily. “I mean, the reason you’re sleeping with Mr. Clay doesn’t have anything to do with his money or his house, or his land, or his horses and the things he can give you, now, does it?”

“My personal life is none of your business, but if it’s such a concern of yours, I’ve never slept with anyone for what they could
give
me. You might find the concept difficult, but sex isn’t a bartering tool where I come from.” She started toward the barn. “We need another three hundred pounds of feed. Two hundred at fourteen percent and one hundred at twelve. Could you pick it up this afternoon?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeff mocked her. “Before you can blink an eye.”

Connor kept walking. If in the future she had any say-so at Oaklawn, Jeff Helveston would be looking for another job. He was an unpleasant man with a rotten attitude.

Based on what she was learning, Connor had begun to develop her own theories of Talla Bienville Sumner. The woman might have impeccable family ties and genes, but she also had a taste for the masochistic. If Jeff wasn’t blowing smoke and he really had been one of her lovers, and if he was right about Harlan, then Talla had liked men with a wide mean streak. She’d married for power and position and opted to pick up her other needs on the side.

In the long term, what did that mean for Renata? The child was manipulative, and very smart. Had she learned it at her mother’s knee? It was a depressing thought. Connor checked the horses. The day was off to a late and terrible start. She opened the doors to their paddocks, allowing them out into the December sunshine. Instead of barn work, she decided to drive into town and do some shopping for Christmas. She needed the time away, time to think.