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

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The Gilded Curse: Will the young heiress be the next victim of her family's curse? Page 5

by Marilyn Turk


  “No harm done. You should’ve thanked us.”

  “Thank you, but why on earth?”

  “Well, once we scared you, you ran back home. At least you didn’t get hurt or in trouble by following us any further.”

  “Oh really? What kind of trouble would I have gotten into?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you could’ve been bitten by a snake. Or a spider.”

  Lexie shivered. Thank God for small favors. “Maybe you’re right. There were enough of those on the bike trails.”

  Russell stopped and turned to her. “Hey! That’s a great idea.”

  “What is?”

  “Let’s go for a bike ride!”

  “Now?”

  “Let me check in at the clubhouse first and see if I’m needed. If not, we can go get the bikes. Would you like that?”

  A bike ride on the island. What an inviting idea. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.”

  “Excellent!” Russell rubbed his hands together. “Don’t worry. The trails aren’t as wild as they used to be. We don’t have wild boars running out of the brush anymore.”

  “Well, that’s nice to know. I never did see those, but heard stories.”

  By now they had reached the Gould gymnasium on the left side of the road. Mr. Gould had built the indoor tennis facility complete with bowling alley before she was born, and her parents and grandparents had been guests there. She shook her head as she considered the huge building.

  “Russell, does anyone use the Gould tennis courts anymore?”

  “I think Frank’s family might, but, for the most part, it’s unused.”

  “What a shame to let it go to waste.”

  “I agree. But we have the club courts for other members to use. Our climate is mild enough to play on outdoor courts most the year anyway.”

  As they walked past Villa Marianna, the cottage named after Frank Gould’s daughter Marianne, Lexie gazed up at the house’s high square tower that overlooked the woods and club area. Once she and young Marianne had played in the tower, pretending to be princesses in a castle waiting for their knights to come rescue them.

  “How old is Marianne now?”

  Russell shrugged. “She’s a teenager, but I’m not certain how old she is. I don’t know if they’re coming this year or not.”

  They passed Cherokee Cottage on their left, but Lexie barely noticed, still thinking about Marianne and what she must be like now, ten years older.

  “Will you be coming to our church service this Sunday?”

  Lexie stopped and looked at Russell. She followed his gaze and realized they were standing in front of Faith Chapel, the small rustic chapel built for club members. An involuntary shudder shook her, and she struggled with a desire to run away.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Russell cocked his head and studied her face. He seemed to be waiting for an explanation. What could she tell him? That she was afraid of the chapel, the place that haunted her mother? As a child, Lexie had been fascinated by the Gothic style chapel adorned with gargoyles. But her mother believed the ones inside the building, the grotesques, represented the six faces of death, and they had cursed the island and her family. Not that Lexie really believed that nonsense.

  So why avoid the place? Had her mother’s fears become hers too?

  Chapter 6

  She was a knockout. He hadn’t expected that. He’d never thought that tomboy girl would turn out to be such a beautiful woman. Still feisty, though. It might take a little work for her to see things his way. Maybe the picnic would soften her up.

  But those eyes. Those baby blues got his heart racing when she fixed them on him. They were enough to make him offer her the world. Ha. Like he had the world to offer. No, he wasn’t one of the lucky ones born with money like all these folks around him. And now, with the economy shaky and the country at war, it wouldn’t be long before this place shut down. Then what would he do?

  His gaze dropped to his feet. “4F.” That’s what they called him. Couldn’t be drafted with a lame foot. So he wouldn’t end up killed like Robert, right? Russell shook his head. No, I’ll get to stay behind with all the old men. What a hero.

  He checked in at the front desk for his messages. A couple of phone calls and he should be free to take the afternoon off. A picnic on the beach with Lexie Smithfield. They’re going on a bike ride! Who’d have thought?

  He had one more call to make before he’d send for her.

  Lexie plopped down on the bed. Why was she here? Old memories warred with her emotions, making her head spin. Destiny was so different now. Oh, it still looked pretty much the same on the outside, but inside it was lifeless and dead, like the family that occupied its walls.

  But someone had been there, and it appeared as if they were looking for something. But what? Surely, anyone would know the family wouldn’t leave valuables in a house after all this time.

  And what about Russell? He didn’t say anything about the telegram. Why had he wanted her to come? He certainly didn’t act like someone who would send such an ominous-sounding telegram. Not with his carefree personality. The guy found everything humorous, with that constant smile on his face. The twinkle in his eye reminded her of how he teased her as a child. And he was still doing it! She clenched her teeth, stood up, and went to the wardrobe for her trousers.

  As she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, a smile eased its way across her face. She could just see eyebrows lift at the sight of her in trousers. So what? If Katherine Hepburn could wear them, so could she. She pulled on the flared pants while her thoughts went back to Russell.

  Had he always had dimples? She didn’t remember him being so attractive. But that’s not something you notice when you’re twelve years old. And yet, now … why, if she didn’t know him so well, she might think he was good-looking. But she did know him. Or at least she used to know him. After ten years, maybe she really didn’t. She’d changed a lot in ten years, and surely, he had too.

  He probably had a girlfriend. But if he did, it seemed she would be jealous if he took other women on bike rides. Maybe she would be jealous of other women, but not his friend’s little sister. There it was again. She had reverted back to her childhood. Lexie, remember who you are. Her grandmother used to tell her that. She always wondered what her grandmother meant. She asked once and was told “A Smithfield.” Was that good or bad? She wasn’t sure.

  A tap on the door startled her and made her jump. A folded piece of paper slid under the threshold, stopping at her feet. She reached down, picked it up, and opened it. “Everything’s ready. Meet you downstairs.”

  Lexie smiled and tucked the note into her pocket. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and grabbed a scarf, folding it to make a headband, put it across her hair, and tied it underneath. That’s the best she could do with her unruly curls. It was impossible for her to pin it up in side rolls, the popular style the girls at college wore. She stepped out into the hallway and locked the door behind her, just as the maid from the boat walked out of a room a few doors down. When their eyes met, the maid turned and hurried the opposite way.

  “Wait!” Lexie dashed after her. “I need to talk to you.”

  The woman stopped, her back to Lexie, then turned around.

  With her eyes cast down, she spoke in a soft voice. “Yes, miss.”

  “Are you the only housemaid on this hall?” Lexie tried to see the woman’s expression.

  “Mostly, but sometimes there’s another maid. Is there a problem?”

  Lexie studied the woman who seemed too meek to look up. “I’m not sure. While I was at breakfast this morning, my things were rearranged. Did you do that?”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, if the room’s not to your liking. I’ll try to do better next time.”

  “All right, well, thank you.” The woman turned to go, but Lexie continued. “Aren’t you the woman with the pretty little girl? Didn’t we ride over together from Brunswick?”

  The woman n
odded. “Yes’m.”

  Lexie looked up and down the hallway. “Where is your little girl now?”

  “She’s over at the schoolhouse with the other children.”

  “Oh, of course. Well, she’s a very pretty and sweet girl.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “You’re welcome. Well, I won’t keep you from your duties. Good day.”

  The woman nodded and walked away while Lexie tried not to stare after her. Something about her stirred a familiar chord. Had she worked there when Lexie came with her family? She’d ask Russell. There were several things they needed to discuss.

  Russell! He was waiting for her. She raced down the stairs and spied him waiting outside, smoking a cigarette. As she approached, he dropped it and crushed it underfoot. Lexie didn’t try to hide her dislike of the habit.

  “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “Yes, afraid I’ve developed the habit. I take it you don’t approve.”

  “No, I don’t. I hate the smell and think it’s foolish for people to put a burning object in their mouths and breathe the smoke. It can’t be good for you.”

  Russell laughed aloud. “Well, if you put it that way, it does sound pretty foolish. Tell you what, I promise I won’t smoke around you. Okay?”

  She opened her mouth to tell him it wasn’t a healthy habit away from her either, but she stopped herself. What business was it of hers what he did anyway?

  Russell rested one elbow in the opposite hand, propping his chin on his knuckles as he eyed her up and down, an amused look on his face.

  “What?” She set her hands on her hips and cocked her head. “Oh. It’s the pants. I suppose the other club members don’t wear them.”

  He shook his head. “Well, not the women.” He chuckled. “I must say I’m not surprised, but I can’t wait to hear the chatter.”

  “Well, you just enjoy it. I don’t care to listen. Besides, plenty of women wear pants, especially the movie stars.”

  “Hate to tell you, but this isn’t Hollywood. These members are trying to hang on to tradition as long as they can.”

  Lexie shrugged. “So I’m different. Women my age aren’t as bound to tradition as they used to be.”

  “Lexie, dear, I don’t think you’ve ever been bound by tradition.”

  Lexie rolled her eyes.

  “Shall we go get our bikes?” Russell lifted a covered basket from the chair beside him. “Chef’s got a nice meal prepared for us.”

  They walked around the corner of the building to the bike shop where two bikes were set out for them. Hers had a wire carrier in front, so he placed the picnic basket in it.

  Russell motioned with his hand. “You go first, I’ll follow.”

  “I’m not sure I remember the path.”

  “Just follow the signs to the bike trails and the beach.”

  Lexie took off, a bit self-conscious with Russell watching her. Soon though, she found a sign marking the Rockefeller Bicycle Path and turned off the main road through the woods. The temperature dropped as they entered the shade. Lexie pedaled all the harder, whether to warm up or to get beyond the sight of curious onlookers, she wasn’t sure. Dense palmettoes filled in the space below the moss-hung oaks like a barricade to keep people from straying off the path. Above, the tree limbs laced together to form a canopy that closed out the sunlight. One wouldn’t know the day was sunny outside the boundaries of the woods.

  “Hey! What’s your hurry?” Russell called out from behind. “I didn’t know this was a race.”

  “What’s the matter, Russell? You can’t keep up?” Lexie turned her head so her voice carried his direction.

  Russell’s laughter sailed through the trees. “Still competing with the boys, huh?”

  Lexie laughed over her shoulder. “And still winning!”

  She sped on, losing him on the winding trail. Was he really that slow, or was she that fast? No matter. The exercise exhilarated her, and she embraced the freedom of the ride. She became a little girl again, riding with abandon, and no one could catch her.

  A noise to her right drew her attention. Russell said there were no more boars, but something moved through the woods. Her heart pounded at the prospect of encountering a wild animal. She strained to see, taking her eyes from the path.

  The bike thudded against an object, sending her flying. She screamed as she fell over, landing hard on the ground. Almost at once, Russell was beside her.

  “Lexie! Are you hurt?”

  She groaned from the ache in her side where she’d fallen on a large pine cone. Russell helped her sit up.

  “What happened?” She looked around and saw her bicycle lying beside the path, the tire frame bent.

  “Looks like you ran into that tree lying across the trail.”

  Lexie looked back and saw the young pine tree. Too bad she hadn’t seen it in time to stop.

  “I heard something. Over there.” She pointed. “I tried to see what it was.”

  Russell scanned the forest. “I’m sorry, Lexie. We check the trails every day to make sure there’s nothing like this in the way. I don’t know how we didn’t find this. There hasn’t been enough wind lately to blow anything down.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll live. Can you help me up?”

  “Are you sure?” Russell nodded toward the bike. “Looks like that’s out of commission for awhile. Here. Ride mine and I’ll walk.”

  He extended his hand and helped her up. She winced as she brushed off her clothes. There’d be some bruises for sure. “How much farther to the beach?”

  “Not much.” He leaned down, picked up the picnic basket, and gave her a rueful smile. “Well, our food’s saved. Thank goodness, the latch held.”

  Of course, he found a way to joke about the situation. “I believe I’d rather walk the rest of the way too.” Her body trembled from the fall, and she wasn’t too eager to get back on a bike.

  “You sure you’re okay? Do you want to go to the infirmary and have a doctor check you out?”

  “No. I’m fine. I can carry the basket.” He shrugged and handed her the picnic hamper, then positioned himself between her and his bike.

  Pointing toward the damaged bicycle, he said, “We’ll leave that one here and send for it later.”

  Lexie drew herself up, inhaled a deep breath, and began to move alongside him, feeling her injuries with each step. She stole another glance over her shoulder at the tree across the trail, following it to its base in the woods. As far as she could tell, that tree didn’t just fall, it had been cut down.

  Chapter 7

  A cool ocean breeze whipped Lexie’s cheeks as she sat on the edge of a red-and-white checkered tablecloth spread out on the beach. She hugged her knees and closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sun’s warmth, inhaling the salty air.

  “These grapes are delicious! Here, try some.” Russell stretched out his arm with a bunch of the red fruit.

  She glanced at his hand and accepted the grapes, plucking one and popping it into her mouth. The burst of fresh fruit awakened her taste buds with its sweetness. A perfect setting with a handsome man, but this wasn’t just any man. It was just Russell. Besides, she couldn’t relax. There were too many questions invading her mind for it to be at peace. Who had ransacked the secretary in the cottage? Rummaged through her things in her room? And now the bike accident. Were these things connected?

  “Russell, something happened in my room earlier today. I’ve been meaning to tell you about it.”

  The roar of the waves drowned out her voice, and Russell scooted closer on the tablecloth, pointing to his ear indicating he couldn’t hear her. Her heart fluttered as he neared. She repeated her statement, and he raised his eyebrows.

  “What happened, Lexie?”

  “When I returned from breakfast, my things had been disturbed, both on top of the dresser and in the drawers.”

  “Was anything missing? “

  “Not that I know of. I’m wearing the only valuables I brought.”r />
  He drew back and looked her over, a sly grin on his face.

  “Seriously, Russell! Someone was in my room and handled my belongings!”

  His features sobered. “My staff has been with us quite a while and pride themselves on their efficiency. These people are happy to have jobs. Maybe we have someone new. I’ll check. Sorry about that, Lexie.”

  “I did speak to a maid in the hallway when I left the room.”

  “And?”

  “She just apologized that the room wasn’t satisfactory. She didn’t really confess to doing it herself—said another maid could have done it.”

  “Hmmm. What did she look like?”

  “About my height, average, thin with brown hair.”

  “Well, that describes a lot of people. Can you tell me anything else about her?”

  “She looks like she used to be pretty when she was younger, but her face appears tired, like she’s had her share of troubles. Of course, they all wear the same black dress with a white apron and cap.” What was it that stood out? Her eyes. “You know her eyes were quite noticeable, that is, what I saw of them. She kept her head down like she was afraid to look at me. I guess you’d call them ‘hazel’.”

  Russell rubbed his chin and nodded. “Sounds like Stella.”

  Stella. That name rang a bell. “Has she been here long?”

  “Ever since she was a teenager. Like most of our employees, she’s been here a long time. That’s why it doesn’t make sense for her to bother your personal belongings. She knows better.”

  “Well, someone did. I didn’t dream this up.”

  That smug grin again. “I never said you did, Lexie.” He patted her hand.

  “I’ll speak to housekeeping about it.”

  “Thank you. You know, Russell, I feel like I’m not welcome here.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Of course you are.”

  “No, really. I’ve gotten the strangest reactions from people.”

  “You’re talking about Abner, aren’t you? Well, he’s just a strange person.”

  Lexie stretched out her legs, wincing with the movement. She leaned over and massaged her calf.

 

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