The Valentine Legacy (9 page)

Alice gave her a helpless look that made James want to enfold her in his arms and pat her. He expected that most
people reacted to Alice like that. But evidently not Jessie. She floored him, saying “Now this is quite enough, Alice. You're going to eat the scone or I'll stuff it down your throat.”

That brought a smile to Alice's pale lips. Her frail shoulders even lifted a bit. She looked up when Mrs. Partridge cleared her throat.

“Oh, Mrs. Wyndham! James. Do come in.” Alice leaped to her feet, and Jessie knew why. Everyone leaped to their feet when Mrs. Wilhelmina Wyndham came within striking distance. The lady scared her to death. In the past, she'd easily managed to avoid her, but not today. There was no escape from her today.

Wilhelmina looked at Alice, who had two hectic red spots on her pale cheeks, and said, “You have grieved for three days, Alice. Allen Belmonde deserves no more than three days of having you wilt around not eating. It is the shock of finding him that has prostrated you, not your loss. Now, I would like a cup of tea and one of those fresh scones Jessie was talking about.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Alice said, and scurried out of the parlor.

Jessie said, “I didn't know Alice could move that fast. Well done, ma'am.”

Wilhelmina looked at Jessie briefly, lifted her chins, then turned to Glenda, who was now sitting on the edge of the settee, at attention, ready for inspection. “You're looking well, Glenda, but that gown of yours is cut too low. There is too much bosom on display. Here.” Wilhelmina handed her a white lawn handkerchief. Glenda took it and stared at it helplessly. “Arrange it over your bosom, dear,” Wilhelmina said.

“Now, Jessie, I had to settle myself before I spoke to you. You are as you always are, so no surprise there. At least you don't smell like a horse today. I have no more handkerchiefs, or else I'd give you one to help fill out the
chest of that gown. I shall speak to your mother. She needs to have gowns made for you.”

James, who should have been used to his mother after all these years of watching her in action, nonetheless fairly choked on his words. “Mama, I think you should sit down. Ah, here's Mrs. Partridge with your tea and a scone. That's right, take two. Now, Alice, stop hovering. I want to speak to you. Come with me to Allen's study.”

Allen Belmonde's study was a dark room with heavy leather furniture, a dull brown Axminster carpet, and books lining the walls that James knew the dead man had never opened. James gently pressed Alice Belmonde into a chair, lowered himself on his haunches in front of her, and took her white hands between his. “My mother's a bully, Alice, but she's right. Allen was a rotter. You have a large estate to deal with. There are people depending on you.”

“I'm a woman, James. I don't know anything. Allen never told me anything, either. He always said I was to be here whenever he wanted me. He said that was my only role, that and having children. Now he's gone. I feel, well, I feel sort of frozen. There's no one to tell me what to do.”

“Did you love him, Alice?”

“I wanted to, James. You know that. I believed I could make him forget Ursula, but he never did. He was always saying that Ursula would never say such stupid things the way I did. He said she would never whine and complain and cry as I did. No, I didn't love him anymore. I suppose that now I'll go to Hell.”

“No, I rather think you've been liberated from Hell. You'll get through this, Alice.”

“His partners have already been here telling me the business is worthless, that they're sorry, but there's no money for me. I really don't care because my father will take care of me. He doled out my dowry on a yearly basis to Allen, and believe me, Allen hated it. My father's already told me
that he will continue my yearly allowance, that I don't have to remarry if I don't want to.”

“I'm pleased, Alice. Now, don't worry about his damned partners. Allen's lawyer, Daniel Raymond, will see to those villains. You might not care about the money, but there's got to be justice. Now, there's the farm, Alice. I think it would be good for you to learn about the management of a stud farm.”

“That's what Jessie said. She said she'd teach me.”

That gave him pause. What the devil was Jessie up to? “I didn't realize you and Jessie were such good friends.”

“Oh yes, for years now. Nelda and Glenda, too. I was always very protected by my papa and mama. And there was Jessie, so free, doing exactly as she pleased, not minding if her mother yelled at her or ordered her to stay in her bedchamber for a week if she got sunburned or tore her dress or got kicked by a horse. Jessie was always brave. I was always a coward. But she says that doesn't have to be true. She says there's no man now to tell me what to do. I can do and be whatever it is I choose. She believes I can unfreeze myself. She says money will help me unfreeze even more quickly.”

Jessie had said all that? Could he possibly be wrong? James had always thought that Alice Stoddert Belmonde was one of those ladies who absolutely had to have a husband to take care of her, or a brother, whose role he, James, had taken. He would have staked a good amount of money on his belief. He could just stare at her now. Was there a firmness he'd never heard before in that insubstantial voice?

He said, “Jessie's not all that free, Alice. She's still a female. She's still a daughter living at home. Her mother still tells her what to do.”

Tears shone in Alice's eyes. “You don't think she can help me, James?”

“I didn't say that. I'm just saying that all isn't necessarily
what it looks to be. Now, Raymond and I are meeting with Allen's erstwhile partners. He will come by later with papers to sign. You just see to eating more and unfreezing yourself, just as Jessie said.”

“There's Mortimer Hackey,” Alice said with a delicate shudder.

Hackey owned a small racing stud to the west of Baltimore. He was petty, dishonest, and gave racing a worse name than it deserved. “What does that scoundrel have to do with anything?”

“He wants to buy the stud. I think he wants to take Allen's place, too. He's been here at least five times a day since Allen was killed. He holds my hand overlong, James, and once he even kissed my cheek. I wanted to vomit. He's horrible.”

“Tell Mrs. Partridge not to let him in again. I'll speak to him, Alice.”

When they returned to the parlor, James heard his mother bellowing loudly enough for the watch at the far corner of St. Paul Street to hear. “There is nothing more deplorable than a girl who lacks respect for her elders. You, Jessica Warfield, will not speak to me like that again. You will not disagree with what I know is perfectly true.”

“But ma'am, Nelda married her husband because she wanted to. You're wrong about Mama making her marry Bramen. As for Papa, he said it turned his innards to have his own daughter married to a man older than he was. No, ma'am, it was Nelda's idea.”

Wilhelmina Wyndham snorted, an inelegant sound, but effective. “You're nothing but a girl, Jessica. You don't know anything at all. I know your mother. She connives. She schemes. She's quite good at it, actually. I taught her quite a lot. She wanted buckets of money for Nelda and she latched onto Bramen. Nelda had no say in the matter. Now, don't disagree with me or else I'll have to speak to your
mama about you. Indeed, I would tell her how to deal with you.”

Jessie jumped to her feet. “Glenda, we must be on our way. I'm going to say good-bye to Alice.”

“I'm not going anywhere, Jessie. Don't be rude to Mrs. Wyndham. If everything works out as it should, then she will have every right to be involved in our lives.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Wilhelmina Wyndham said, turning an awful stare on Glenda. “I know you, Glenda Warfield. You want my son. Well, my dear, if you are willing to be guided by me, perhaps it might be done. I have reminded him that his ill-advised English marriage wouldn't have ended so tragically if only he'd listened to me. Indeed, it never would have happened.”

James said very quietly from the doorway, “Mother, it's time we took our leave. Alice is tired and wishes to rest. That is, she wishes to eat two scones and then she wishes to rest. Come along, Mother.”

“I shall, dear James.” She swept to her feet, patted the curls around her still-handsome face, and offered her hand to her son, who wanted to throttle her. Jessie looked pushed to the limit and madder than a wild dog. Glenda was humming softly to herself, pleating the material of her gown with soft, white fingers.

James said, “Jessie, would you like me to escort you home?”

Glenda immediately rose, the handkerchief Mrs. Wyndham had given her falling out of her bosom. “That won't be necessary, James. Jessie and I must be on our way. Good day to you, Alice.”

As they were all leaving the Belmonde house, Nelda's carriage drew up. The sisters only nodded to one another.

J
ESSIE PRAYED HARD
that it wouldn't rain, but she didn't think God was listening. It was Baltimore, after all, and most folks believed that God, in His more whimsical moments, allowed the heavens to open up on them ten minutes after the sun had been blazing in the sky.

It was chilly, the air heavy, the night blacker than a sinner's secrets. Jessie huddled in her man's coat and leaned through the rosebushes so she could see into the large Blanchard ballroom. She saw James almost immediately. He was taller than most men. When he laughed, he threw back his head, showing his tanned throat. She wondered what made him laugh. She certainly had never done so, at least not like that—laughter so free and irresistible.

She'd been invited to this ball, but she'd declined, as she always did, but this time only after her mother had looked at her, up and down and up and down, and once again, up and down, and given her that thin-lipped smile of hers that had nothing to do with humor. It wasn't that her mother didn't want her to have a frivolous evening. It was just that she knew Jessie would make a fool of herself, a fool of her family, and most importantly, a fool of her mother, were Jessie to appear dressed like Glenda, trying to be a lady.

No, it wouldn't work. Her mother was right. But still. Jessie sighed and pressed closer to the window. She knew
tonight was the night. She'd overheard Glenda planning this evening with their mother.

She knew she couldn't let them betray James. He deserved a lot of things, but he didn't deserve to have Glenda at his side for the remainder of his sentient days on this earth. If he'd wanted Glenda, that would have been another matter, but he'd said clearly that he wouldn't ever marry her. No, she wouldn't allow her mother and Glenda to serve him such a turn.

Ah, there Glenda was, on a course set straight for James. How odd of her; she was staring at his waist, not his face.

Jessie saw James turn finally and give Glenda a smile and a nod before turning back to speak to Daniel Raymond, the lawyer who was helping poor Alice Belmonde pull her life together.

But Glenda wasn't to be put off. Jessie recognized all the signs. Her chin was up, her bosom thrust forward, and there she was again, staring directly at James's waist. She stretched out a soft, white hand and laid it on James's black sleeve. He frowned, turning to look at her.

In but a moment, he'd said something to Daniel Raymond and escorted Glenda to the dance floor. It was a waltz. This was it.

Jessie backed out of the rosebushes and quickly ran to the lovely old elm tree that stood in the middle of the Blanchard garden. She shinnied up it, then grabbed a long, thick branch and pulled herself astride it. She couldn't have her legs dangling down; they might see her. She stretched out on her belly along the length of the branch.

She waited.

And waited some more.

The waltz should have ended an eon ago. Glenda had had enough time to feel faint at least a dozen times. But Jessie was afraid to move. What if they were already in the garden but not close enough for her to hear them? What if they
came beneath the tree and looked up? She'd be caught. She would have failed.

Her left foot went to sleep. She raised her left leg and shook it. It didn't help much. She felt herself slipping and hugged the branch. It scraped her cheek.

She heard voices, grasped the branch tightly, and tensed. Oh goodness, they were nearly right beneath the tree. But Glenda wasn't there. It was two men, and one of them was James.

They were arguing.

“Listen, Wyndham, I'm going to buy her out and you have no say in it.” Jessie recognized Mortimer Hackey's deep, rough voice. She knew him as a man of vicious temper who'd managed to come by money in a mysterious way. He had a jockey who always used his riding crop on any other jockeys who came near him at the races.

“Why I came out here with you I don't know,” James said. “I have nothing more to say to you, Hackey. She's going to learn to run the stud farm herself, so forget it.”

“You son of a bitch, you won't interfere! Why, I might even marry the little piece, who knows? Allen told me she was worthless in bed, but I don't care. I'll have the stud farm.”

“I'll say this just one more time, Hackey. Leave Alice alone. If I hear about your bothering her again, I'll beat you to a bloody pulp.”