When the Splendor Falls

by Laurie McBain

  “Well, I hope you told her, J. Kirkfield,” Maribel Lu told him, coming to her niece’s defense.

  “I had very little choice in the matter. I was deathly afraid she was going to make a scene otherwise, and you know how I do dislike scenes. I didn’t need a fainting female on my hands. Apparently, she’d no idea how in debt they were. She seemed quite stricken by the whole affair.”

  “It can’t harm, her knowing. Actually, it will be the best thing all around, because you know how proud Stuart is, too proud for his own good. He’d never ask for a penny from her, or from any of his children, so they could starve to death here at Travers Hill without Leigh Alexandra ever knowing a thing about it in Charleston. Not that Beatrice Amelia wouldn’t be above it, but then, I don’t think there is anything wrong in that at all. I would myself. What are families for? I ask you.”

  J. Kirkfield snorted. Maribel Lu had never asked him a thing in her life. “Well, it did make me wonder, what she said.”

  “What? What did she say?” Maribel Lu demanded.

  “She said something about the sun and a dagger. And there wasn’t any time, there never had been, only this summer, and she would do what she had to do, what she was meant to do all along. Thought she was thinking of stabbing herself. Much too scandalous an act. Just foolish talk.”

  “Well, of course she’ll do what she has to do. Must have gotten too much sun this afternoon. I saw her out there near the paddock talking to Stuart James. Now that Leigh has announced her engagement to Matthew, and will be married to him by this time next summer, and now knows exactly how precarious the Travers family finances are, she will be able to help them. It is her duty. I’m sure Stuart James was relieved too, since Matthew is thinking about becoming a partner with him in selling Willow Creek’s tobacco crop.”

  “I think Leigh already knew how bad things were before I told her. That’s why she asked me in the first place, so I really didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already suspect. It was almost as if what I told her, confirming what she knew, had helped her to make up her mind about marrying Wycliffe. If it weren’t that he was such a fine young gentleman, I would indeed suspect that was the reason for her marrying him.”

  “Nonsense. It’s a love match. Pure and simple. Why, I’ve never seen such a handsome couple. He adores her. I’ve known they would wed since last winter. She probably only wanted to hurry up the wedding in order to help her family. Never a doubt in my mind it would happen. Just when.”

  “Indeed?” J. Kirkfield said, eyeing his wife in amazement.

  “Certainly. Cissy Wycliffe Meegram, Matthew’s aunt, is one of my dearest friends. And she told me Christmas last, that Matthew was in love with Leigh Travers. And our Leigh Alexandra is no fool. She’s always been a bright girl. Naturally, if Matthew asked for her hand in marriage, she would say yes. And if she were fool enough even to think about saying no, then having discovered how destitute her family is, would have convinced her to change her mind fast enough. Leigh loves her family and Travers Hill. She knows her responsibilities. This is, after all, her heritage too. She is making the right choice. And I ask you, who else would she have married? There is no one finer than Matthew Wycliffe. And, I must say, this whole affair has been weighing heavy on my mind of late. Lost my appetite, and I’ve tossed and turned every night, J. Kirkfield. I truly do not think I’ve gotten a night’s rest since I started hearing the rumors about how deep in debt the Travers family was. Rumors! The way people will talk, and when it is none of their business. I’ll certainly sleep better now, knowing that everything will be fine at Travers Hill.”

  “Yes, so will I,” J. Kirkfield said, sighing with relief as he thought of getting a good night’s sleep himself for a change. Hearing a rustling in the palm fronds behind him, J. Kirkfield glanced around, but there was no one standing on the other side, and he returned a thoughtful eye to what Maribel Lu was now telling him about the color of the drapes in the ballroom.

  * * *

  Leigh took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the sweetly scented fresh air of the gardens. It had been hot inside, hot and stuffy, she thought, feeling slightly faint. Tipping her head slightly, she listened for a moment to the cricket’s song somewhere in the cool darkness beyond the garden walks.

  “Blythe?” Leigh called out softly. “Are you out here?” she called again, thinking she had seen Blythe’s figure crossing toward the garden doors earlier.

  “Over here,” came the answer.

  “What are you doing?” Leigh demanded, moving toward the sound of the voice coming from the edge of the terrace.

  “My stocking was unrolling, and I didn’t want it to fly off during a reel,” Blythe explained, her laughter coming easily at the thought. “There! I am once more decent. Mama would have fainted had my silk stocking landed in the punch bowl,” she said, stepping out of the darkness, where she’d been making her repairs, her pale green figure looking fairylike as she moved into the lantern’s light, a firefly momentarily caught in her hair. “It’s a wonderful party, isn’t it, Leigh?” she asked a trifle diffidently.

  “Yes, it is. Are you enjoying yourself?” Leigh asked. “I’ve heard such lovely comments about you tonight. I’ve been so very proud of you.”

  “You have?” Blythe said, pleased by the compliment as she hooked her arm through her sister’s and they strolled back toward the house.

  “Yes, I have, and so have Mama and Papa. He is about to bust a button showing you off to everyone. And Mama said you reminded her of Grandmama Palmer, so gracious were you, and with your dark hair, the same color as hers, swept up so becomingly.”

  “Grandmama Palmer?” Blythe repeated in awe.

  “I saw you dancing with Justin Braedon,” Leigh said casually. “He seemed to be enjoying himself very much.”

  Blythe made a comical face. “Just one dance. He was supposed to dance two more dances with me, but I don’t think he will now. He is very much the gentleman, and did not say a word, but I stepped all over his feet while dancing with him. It was so embarrassing. I felt so clumsy and stupid,” Blythe admitted, then laughed, surprising Leigh by her lightheartedness over what could have been a devastating occurrence. “Adam came to the rescue. I think Justin must have asked him, begged him probably, but do you know, Leigh, I enjoyed dancing with Adam far more than I did with Justin. I’ve never realized how nice Adam can be,” she said, holding a single rose to her lips as she breathed its fragrance. “I’ve always thought he was rather wicked, but he really isn’t. He’s quite charming and amusing, and he is a wonderful mimic. I thought for a moment I was dancing with the Reverend Culpepper. And do you know, I didn’t step on his feet even once. I was afraid that I couldn’t dance at all until I danced with Adam. And I forgot to count my steps and felt like I was ice-skating. He’s quite handsome, don’t you think so?” Blythe asked, trying to see her sister’s expression in the darkness.

  Leigh couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Adam Merton Braedon? Charming? Kind? Amusing? Leigh had always thought Adam as amusing as a bee sting.

  “He said he thought I was the most beautiful, entrancing woman he’d ever met,” Blythe said in almost a whisper. “Do you think he was telling the truth, or just flattering me because it is my birthday?” she asked worriedly.

  Leigh swallowed the quick retort that trembled on her lips. “I’m certain he must have been telling the truth,” she said quite honestly, for Blythe was indeed beautiful, and anyone who did not think so was just a boorish clodhopper in her eyes. Apparently Adam wasn’t as outlandish as she’d always believed if he could be so nice to Blythe. Far nicer, in fact, than Justin had been, Leigh realized, vowing to have a word with him before the night was over.

  “Even Julia was saying how pretty you looked,” Leigh said, laughing as she remembered the startled look on Julia’s face when she’d seen Blythe dancing with her favorite beau.

  Blythe laughed. “Did you see poor John Drayton? He went into a fit of sneezing when he danced with her and
that feather kept tickling him under the nose. Adam and I started laughing so hard we could scarcely finish our dance,” Blythe said. “And Adam said it took half the day to get all of those curls set atop her head, and that Bella threw up her hands in disgust and stomped out in a fit of the sulks when Julia demanded one more, teeny, weeny curl to just touch her lovely, magnolia-tinted shoulder. Guess what Adam calls his sidewhiskers? Piccadilly Weepers! That’s what they call them in London. Oh, Leigh, this truly has been the most wonderful night of my life. And I’m so happy you announced your engagement to Matthew tonight. It made everything all that much more special. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mama and Papa quite so happy. Did you see the way they danced together? It was almost indecent the way Mama was kicking up her heels and showing her ankles. And Papa, he seemed as happy as he was years ago. Not that he isn’t happy now, but…I don’t know, he just seemed so very happy, almost relieved. You won’t be leaving right away, will you?”

  “No, not right away. But Mama and I’ll travel to Charleston before next month for the announcement there with Matthew’s family,” Leigh said, thinking about what Blythe had just told her about how happy her mother and father were.

  “Matthew is handsome, Leigh. And so nice. He danced with me twice!”

  “He is a very nice man, Blythe. I am very fortunate,” Leigh said, thinking again about Matthew’s tender declaration of love when he’d asked for her hand in marriage, then his happiness when she had said yes.

  She had done the right thing by agreeing to marry Matthew. She would come to love him. She already respected him and liked him. And although he had expected nothing in return, never saying a word to her, he had saved her family from dishonor, from the shame of being evicted from their home. Her father would not have been able to live with the disgrace.

  Yes, she had done the right thing, Leigh told herself, pushing the vision of Neil Braedon far from her mind. If only she could banish him from her heart as well, she despaired, remembering again the look in those pale gray-green eyes when their glances had met earlier. She’d been watching him, thinking herself unobserved, unable to look away from him, then he had turned, and his glance had captured hers. She had felt so vulnerable before him, as if he could somehow sense what was deep within her heart. A foolish notion, he did not know of her feelings for him. She had glanced away, refusing to look his way again. Righteously ignoring him for the rest of the evening. But she felt damned. She felt as if she were somehow being unfaithful to Matthew. He was the man she was going to marry, the man who would become her lover, the father of her children. He was the man who loved her, cared about her. Not Neil Braedon. Why, then, could she imagine herself only with Neil Braedon?

  It was so wrong. It was not meant to be. She had made her decision.

  “So, there you are. I’ve been searching for you. I thought some rakish scoundrel had made off with my only true love,” Adam declared, sounding as if he yet again jested as he took possession of Blythe’s hand, tucking it safely away inside his bended elbow, his hand holding it there, lest she think of escaping him.

  “I have averted social ostracism. It was my stocking, Adam,” Blythe returned, her eyes brimming with humor as she stared up into his laughing face. “I was desperately concerned it might end up in the punch bowl when next we waltzed. Can you imagine the scandal? It would have been acceptable if it’d been pink, but ’tis green,” she told him with a low chuckle, then catching her breath as he pressed a kiss, as if well accustomed to taking such liberties, against her cheek in response, the possessive arm around her shoulders holding her close against him.

  “What an incorrigible miss. I swear, she’s won my heart,” he said, not quite realizing the import of his own statement, but later he would remember and waste no time acting upon it.

  “Aren’t you coming in too, Leigh?” Blythe asked as her sister hesitated at the door to the ballroom.

  “I saw Matthew a few moments ago. Can’t remember who he was with,” Adam contributed.

  “A business acquaintance,” Leigh said. “Someone cornered him earlier and was most insistent about discussing some business deal they were involved in. Matthew couldn’t say no to the man, so…I will not be missed if I remain a few minutes longer out here. I’ve a bit of a headache,” Leigh lied, only wishing for the peace and quiet of the garden for a few minutes longer by herself before she had to rejoin the crowd inside, with their well-meant congratulations, their questions coming politely, yet intrusively.

  “Our dance, Lucy,” Adam reminded her, pulling Blythe after him into the ballroom in time to join the dancers gathering together for the next waltz, the one promised to him.

  “Bye, Leigh!” Blythe called out to her sister as she disappeared into the colorful swirl of dancers.

  Leigh remained where she was for a moment longer, watching Blythe’s beautiful, laughing face as she danced in Adam’s arms. Blythe had been right, she danced well, without a misstep, when in his arms, the single red rose tucked in the lacy edge of her bodice. Leigh’s eyes widened slightly as she watched Adam incline his head, as if breathing of the rose-scented sweetness of Blythe’s warm flesh. Leigh closed her eyes in disbelief, a sudden thought striking her. Then shaking her head, she turned away and wandered out into the gardens, determined to steal a few more minutes of quiet by herself.

  Leigh shivered. Odd, she should suddenly feel cold on as pleasant an evening as this. Leigh heard a step behind her and turned around, thinking Matthew had concluded his business and come to find her.

  “Matt, did you—” she began, her words faltering as she recognized the tall figure approaching her with the almost catlike tread. He had moved quickly and quietly along the path behind her, never making a sound until he had wanted her to hear him.

  Before she could even take a backward step, Neil Braedon was beside her, towering over her as his body blocked out the cheerful, comforting lights shining from the windows of the ballroom.

  “You’re not in love with him,” he said bluntly, his hands reaching out and caressing her shoulders when she would have turned away.

  “Whatever do you mean? Let me go, Mr. Braedon. You have no right to say such a thing to me. How dare you!” Leigh finally found her voice, desperate to get away from him, from the look in his eyes, from the touch of his hands, from the isolating darkness that had enveloped them.

  “I dare.”

  “Leave me alone. I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Braedon,” Leigh said, turning her face away, but he moved, dragging her along with him until they stood in the lantern’s revealing glow.

  “Tell me you are in love with Matthew Wycliffe; then, and only then will I leave you alone.”

  Leigh looked up at him in surprise, wondering at his demand, and opening her mouth to assure him that she was in love with Matthew, but when her eyes met his, she couldn’t seem to find the words proclaiming her love for Matthew, words that, if spoken, would mock the feelings she knew she felt deep within her heart for Neil Braedon.

  “I am going to marry Matthew,” she said slowly, pronouncing each word carefully. “I have pledged myself to him. He is the man I am going to marry. He is an honorable man, a kind man, and he loves me.”

  Neil smiled, but it was a cruel smile. “You can’t say them, can you? Don’t look away,” he said, releasing her shoulder to capture her chin and hold it tilted up to his gaze as he searched her face for any sign of her true feelings. “You don’t love him. Your eyes can’t lie, even if your lips might. Do you mold yourself against him, Leigh Alexandra, when he holds you, touches you, kisses you? Do you burn where he touches you? Has he ever kissed you, touched you like I have? I don’t think he has, he’s too much the gentleman, isn’t he?”

  “Something you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not. And that is why I stole that kiss from you. Your first kiss, wasn’t it? And yet,” he reminded her, unfairly, “you kissed me back, as if we had been lovers for a long time.”

  Leigh lifted her hand to hit him, to sto
p him from revealing any more of the truth, but he caught her hand before she could strike him, and held it pinned behind her back instead, bringing her breasts against his chest, her thighs pressed to his.

  “Have you missed me this week?” he asked, taunting her, wanting to anger her so she would respond to him, forget herself long enough to admit the truth. He hadn’t intended this to happen, but when seeing her standing alone in the garden, he hadn’t been able to control himself any longer. He knew why she was marrying Wycliffe, but now, he also knew that she was not in love with the man she had promised herself to.

  “Missed you? You have an incredible opinion of yourself, Mr. Braedon. One kiss, and a stolen one. A case of mistaken identities. A tumble in the hay, that is what you said you were interested in, wasn’t it? And then when you discovered I was more than a wench to be bedded and forgotten, you took to your heels. You wanted a dalliance, nothing more. After all, you’ll be returning to the territories very soon, won’t you?” she asked, making her tone of voice sound hopeful that there would be no delay in his departure. “You should be quite relieved that I’m to marry Matthew.”

  “You’ve sold yourself to him to save your family.”

  “No! That is a lie. I’ve known and liked him for years. I’ve thought of marrying him for some time.”