Glorious Angel (15 page)
Just then, Crystal came into the kitchen, surprising Angela. “So there you are, Angela. I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.”
Angela’s curiosity was quickly aroused, for Crystal always did her best to avoid her. “Can it be you yearn for my company?” she asked.
Crystal put on a false smile. “Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve been meanin’ to have a little talk with you.” Seating herself across from Angela, she said without preamble, “I don’t think you should spend so much time with my brother. People are beginnin’ to talk.”
“What are the rumors now, or should I fear to ask?”
“Well—never mind,” Crystal replied irritably, her false smile fading away. “It’s just that Robert can’t possibly find a suitable wife when he wastes—when he spends so much time with you.”
“Shouldn’t you be speaking to Robert about this?” Angela asked, her patience thin.
Crystal got up and poured a cup of hot chocolate for herself, then sat down again. “Believe me, I have. But Robert just won’t listen to reason. It’s time he settled down and started a family.”
“This is none of my business, Crystal.”
“Of course it’s your business!” Crystal snapped. “You’re the one he wants to marry! But surely you can see that’s impossible.”
“Are you saying Robert wants to marry me?”
“He says he’s in love with you. He’s already asked Jacob.”
“How long have you known that Robert felt this way about me?” Angela asked.
She didn’t understand it. Robert had made countless advances, and she enjoyed holding him off with teasing banter. But she had never dreamed he was serious.
“Why, it’s been three years now at least. He’s been waitin’ for you to finish up your four years of schoolin’,” Crystal replied. “You mean you honestly didn’t know how he felt?”
“No, I didn’t. I wish you had told me about it sooner, so I could have discouraged him. Damn!” Angela exclaimed, forgetting herself.
Crystal’s blue eyes rounded even more. “You don’t want to marry him?”
“I don’t love him, Crystal, so I couldn’t possibly marry him.” But she did like Robert and deeply regretted that she might hurt him.
“That’s wonderful, I mean—well, never mind. Robert will get over it. A ball is what we need—just the thing to help Robert forget his silly infatuation. It’s been too long since the Maitlands have given a ball.”
“You had one just two years ago,” Angela reminded her.
“Yes, but it wasn’t half as grand as it should have been. Folks were just gettin’ back on their feet then, still feelin’ losses from the war. And of course, Jacob didn’t want to do it up too fancy, ’cause it would of reminded folks here about that the war didn’t hurt him none. But things are better now. What do you think?”
“About a ball, or about how things are now?” Angela teased.
“You know what I mean. Arrangin’ a ball would give us lots to do,” Crystal returned, excited over the thought of showing herself off in a splendid new ball gown.
“I suppose it would.”
“It will be an excellent chance for Robert to meet someone else. And, of course, you too. You don’t meet enough young men, not with Robert and Jacob always monopolizin’ your time. Don’t worry about Robert. A ball is just the thing. There’s nothin’ like a new love to make you forget the old one.”
Angela smiled. She was in the unfortunate position of knowing better. When you love deeply
enough, you don’t fall easily in love with another. Oh, yes, Angela knew that all too well.
The next day, Robert proposed and Angela said no as gently as she could. He seemed to take the rejection with his usual good humor, but his eyes held more than a hint of pain. Angela hoped he would find another love quickly.
Sadly, ironically, she understood his pain but could not tell him why she did.
Bradford Maitland paid his bill and left the Mobile hotel. In the short time since his arrival yesterday, he had received more stunned looks than he could possibly have expected. What was the matter with these people? Had they expected him to stay away forever?
Well, maybe, with his return, the subject of gossip would change from what he had heard last night. Could he really believe what people were saying about his father and the young girl who was supposed to be his mistress? No wonder the old man had had an attack!
The streets weren’t crowded for midmorning, and Bradford found it easy to hire an open barouche to take him out to Golden Oaks. He leaned back in the carriage and relaxed, letting the burning sun bake him. He realized suddenly
how much he hated New York and the life he had been leading. Working only in the afternoons, drinking and gambling the nights away, going from one forgettable affair to another. He missed the morning sun on his face, the burning southern sun, not that cold sun of the North. He missed riding through open fields. But mostly, he missed his father.
It’d been seven years since Bradford walked into his home, late that night in ’62, after leaving Crystal. Seven long years. At thirty, he had proved his ability to run the Maitland empire, though that had not been his intention before the War. Then, he wanted only to marry Crystal and take her to the Texas frontier. But the war and his brother had killed those dreams, or most of them.
He was still going to the Maitland ranch in Texas. Soon, in fact, but he had to see his father first, and just hope that Zachary and Crystal would stay out of his way.
Arriving yesterday, he’d gone directly to Doc Scarron for a full report. He left the good doctor’s house with the burden of anxiety lifted from him. His father would be all right.
He frowned. Did he hate Crystal now, or did he still love her? He doubted there was any love left, but the bitterness was still there. That sweet southern belle had professed her love for him so strongly that she was willing to give herself to him before their marriage. Why had he played the chivalrous gentleman? He should have taken
her. Perhaps it would be easier to forget her if he had spent just one night with her.
Bradford came back to the present as the barouche rolled under the giant live oaks lining the long driveway. He smiled. The tall white mansion was the same, still a part of the old world, unchanged, unaffected by the war. But inside would be different. Time had not stood still for the occupants of Golden Oaks. How many of the old servants still remained? Was Robert Lonsdale still a constant guest? Did Zachary and Crystal have children? How many? Bradford wished now that he had not asked his father to refrain from mentioning anything about home in his letters.
Bradford paid the driver and left his trunks on the front gallery. He entered the house without bothering to knock, then stood motionless in the wide hallway. The only sounds he heard were the indistinct clanging of pots coming from the kitchen.
Bradford started up the stairs, to his father’s room. He hoped his father hadn’t changed too much. The attack might have taken a toll on him.
“Master Zachary, what you doin’ back from the city so soon? Is anythin’ wrong?”
Bradford turned on the stairs to see Hannah standing in the doorway to the dining room, a wet towel in her hands. The expression on her face hurt him.
“Don’t look so surprised, Hannah. I take it no
one expected me to set foot in this house again, including you.”
“Yessuh—I—I mean, no, sir,” she stammered, her brown eyes like huge saucers.
“Well, don’t tell anyone I’m here, Hannah, because I only came to see Father. Is he in his room?”
She nodded slowly and Bradford continued up the stairs, leaving her staring after him. He knocked on his father’s door and waited for an answer, then entered the sun-drenched room.
They stared at each other for long moments without speaking. Bradford was pleased to find his father looking so well. That young girl he’s taken up with must be good for him, Bradford thought with amusement.
“It’s been a long time, son. Too damn long!” Jacob said gruffly. Misted eyes showed his joy. “It’s a fine thing when my ill health is the only thing that will bring you home.
“But that’s one way to get you home where you belong. I know I don’t have much more time left to me, and I want to see peace between my children before I die. It can’t be done if you aren’t here.”
“It can’t be done at all, Father. And besides, I’m only staying tonight,” Bradford said reluctantly, watching some of the gleam leave Jacob’s eyes. “And even this is too long to expect tempers not to flare. Is Zachary living here?”
“Yes.”
“Then there is no point in even discussing it. I came only to see you, not my brother and his wife. Now, what caused the attack, anyway? Dr. Scarron didn’t say.”
“I can only blame myself,” Jacob replied, annoyed by his own shortcomings. “Zachary and I were arguing about Angela again, and I lost my temper. I should have known better. Doc’s warned me enough times not to get upset.”
“Her name is Angela, eh? It’s surprising how many girls have that name,” Bradford commented to himself drily. “What’s the matter with Zachary? Is he too straitlaced to accept your mistress living in this house?”
“For God’s sake, Bradford! So you’ve heard that filthy gossip? And right away, you believe it’s true!”
“There is nothing wrong with keeping a young mistress, as long as no one is being hurt by it,” Bradford replied. “It’s done all the time.”
“Damnit, Bradford, I expected better from you!” Jacob’s tone rose dangerously.
“Hey, calm down!” his son soothed, alarmed now. “I only wanted you to know that I don’t sit in judgment on the way you live your life. You’re a widower and no one expects you to be celibate. But if that’s not the way it is with you and the girl, then how is it?”
“I’m sorry I lost my temper, but—”
“Well, you should be!” Bradford scolded.
“Didn’t you just get through telling me you can’t do that anymore?”
“I know, I know. But I’ve lived with that gossip for four years now, and though I don’t give a damn what people think about me, it’s not fair to Angela. Even Zachary believes it, and
he
was the damn fool who started it to begin with!”
“I don’t understand.”
“How could you, when you refused to let me write you anything about the goings-on here?”
Bradford sighed. “
Touché
. I’m sorry.”
“Well, first let me explain about Angela. When William Sherrington died four years ago, Angela was left alone to fend for herself. I have—”
“Wait a minute!” Bradford said with open surprise. “Are you talking about the scrawny little girl whose father farmed on your land?”
“That’s right. I have known Angela since she was born. Her mother, Charissa, and I were childhood friends. Charissa’s parents, the Stewarts, were friends of the family’s when we lived in Springfield. At any rate, because of the family connections, I felt responsible for Angela. Also, because I like the girl. Can you understand?”
“Oh, of course,” Bradford lied.
He knew all about Charissa. He painfully recalled all the nights his own mother cried on his shoulder about the other woman in Jacob’s life. They thought they were so clever, his father and Charissa Stewart. They were so sure no one knew
of their affair. But Samantha Maitland knew, had known from the beginning. She told no one except Bradford. To him she had poured out her shame and grief.
He hated his father for a long time afterward, and hated especially the woman who had caused his mother so much heartache, and who caused Jacob Maitland to pack up his whole family and move to Alabama, just so he could be near her. But finally, Charissa Stewart, then married to William Sherrington, disappeared. His mother was happy again. And as the years passed, Bradford forgave his father.
Bradford didn’t care now if his father had a dozen women, for Samantha Maitland was dead. But Bradford couldn’t believe his father would take as his mistress, the daughter of his old lover.
That
was inconceivable.
Jacob was saying, “I brought Angela into my home four years ago, not out of charity, but to make her an equal member of this family. I had her educated. She couldn’t even write her name. She’s an intelligent young woman, and graduated with honors this year. I would give Angela anything she wants, though she asks me for nothing. She helped her father work that farm for most of her life. She is a kind and gentle young woman, though a trifle spirited at times. She’s twenty-one now, and quite beautiful.” Jacob smiled warmly. “In fact, I have known only one
woman who matched her beauty, and that was her mother.”
“I take it there is more to tell?” Bradford changed the subject.
“It’s Zachary and Crystal. They’ve both disliked Angela from the start, and they haven’t made her life pleasant. They resent her because I’ve taken her in and treated her like a daughter. I always wanted a daughter,” he said reflectively before he continued. “Your old friend Robert, now, is in love with Angela, or so he says, and wants to marry her.”
“Well, good for Robert.”
“I’m not so sure it would be a good idea,” Jacob said quickly. “I’ve tried to discourage Robert because he’s—well, the boy just doesn’t show enough sense of responsibility. No, I don’t think it would be a good idea for them to marry. Zachary now is appalled at the idea, and I’m sure he will do his best to put a stop to it if Angela agrees to marry Robert. As I said earlier, Zachary is more or less the cause of the gossip. Every time Angela has come home from school, even for Christmas holidays, Zachary has packed his wife off to the city, giving the impression that he is protecting Crystal from his father’s immorality. He said he was only doing what his wife wanted, because she didn’t want to stay under the same roof with Angela, but I’m not so sure now. Not after I learned he actually believes Angela
is
my mistress.”