Legacy of Love

by Christine Johnson

  “Mr. Landers,” the woman cooed as Brandon took her hand. “I’m so delighted you’re here at our little party.” Only the way she said it left no doubt that she considered the party to be nothing short of spectacular.

  “I’m pleased to meet you,” he said curtly.

  Anna had to smile at his abrupt manner. Brandon didn’t warm easily, but he was always civil.

  “Likewise. Why, we’re practically family.”

  He frowned, clearly puzzled by her statement.

  Mrs. Neidecker then turned to Anna. “And who is your lovely lady?” Even before the words finished coming out of her mouth, she must have recognized Anna because shock flashed across her face. “Anna Simmons?” She surveyed Anna’s gown. “What a surprise.” Her gaze flitted back to Brandon. “I had no idea.”

  The words ripped through Anna. Clearly, Mrs. Neidecker didn’t think Anna was good enough for Brandon. Her tone hinted that any relationship Anna might have with Brandon would be improper. Instead of triumph, Anna felt even less like she belonged here.

  Though her limbs trembled, she would not let Evelyn Neidecker spoil this night. She struggled to regain her composure by straightening her back and nodding with what she believed to be elegance. “I’m pleased to be here.”

  “As am I.” Brandon’s crisp reply gave her strength.

  He would let no one slight her. No one dare see her as anything but a lady tonight, and for that she could kiss him.

  “Shall we?” he asked, pointing toward the ballroom with his cane.

  She nodded and let him lead her forward, but they didn’t get two steps before Mr. Kensington stopped Brandon.

  “How’s the bookstore doing?” Kensington asked.

  “Well enough considering the snowstorm we had this week.”

  Soon the two of them were deep in discussion, debating the effects of weather on business. Bored, Anna looked around the room to see who had been invited.

  The Vanderloos waltzed near the band, every step sure and elegant. When Mr. Vanderloo swept his wife into a turn, Anna imagined the thrill of having a man do the same with her, but of course Brandon couldn’t dance.

  She looked to the far side of the room. Florabelle Williams had joined Mrs. Kensington and Mrs. Evans in the corner. Her back was to Anna, but the other two were looking directly at her. Mrs. Williams leaned close to whisper something. Then they all turned to stare at Anna, leaving no doubt that she was the topic of conversation.

  Anna looked away and met the unfettered glare of Eloise Grattan. At twenty-seven, the plump girl was considered a spinster by most. Anna hadn’t failed to notice Eloise’s interest in Brandon. She wanted to yank him to the other side of the room, but that would look desperate, so she slipped toward the punch bowl, hoping to meet someone friendly.

  She didn’t expect to see Minnie. The girl stood behind the table ladling punch into tiny crystal cups. Naturally she wore that disgusting uniform with its ruffled apron and starched cap. The skirt rose above the knees, which Minnie could more or less hide by staying behind the table.

  Anna felt a wave of guilt. She’d intended to warn Minnie about working for the Neideckers but forgot. “Minnie?”

  The girl looked up, startled. “Anna. I didn’t expect to see you.” She looked around the room. “You’re a guest?”

  Anna knew how improbable that was. “Brandon invited me.”

  Minnie’s eyes grew round. “Mr. Landers? Is...that is, do you know if his brother is planning to be here?” Her gaze dropped at the last, and Anna detected a flush in her cheeks.

  Oh, dear. That must be why Minnie dropped the coffee service at the parsonage on Christmas Eve. She had a crush on Reggie Landers. That would never come to anything, not from what she’d seen of the younger brother. He was part of the smart set. Someone like Minnie wouldn’t even register as more than a servant. Speaking of which...

  “I’m surprised to see you working here.” Anna stopped just short of spilling the secret that she was the one who’d sent the Foxes the extra funds. “I thought you were in school and helped out at the parsonage.”

  Minnie looked around nervously. “I just work a few hours a week and for special occasions.”

  “Then you are continuing school?”

  “Of course.” Minnie acted offended, as if the thought of leaving high school had never crossed her mind.

  “Good. Getting a diploma is important.”

  Minnie tossed her head. “Not for girls. We just have to marry well, like Beattie.”

  Anna winced. Minnie’s older sister had married the Kensington heir, but Beattie Fox was the beauty in the family. Minnie was more like Anna, the quiet, plain little sister. Minnie didn’t have Beatrice’s pale blond hair or brilliant blue eyes. She hadn’t the grace or elegance of her older sister. She couldn’t expect to marry as well.

  “I’d rather be able to support myself,” Anna said, trying to point out that education was important.

  “You clean houses just like me.”

  This time Anna’s hackles rose. “Yes, but I intend to go to college. As soon as I earn enough at the bookstore, I’ll apply to the University of Michigan.”

  Minnie looked skeptical. If she knew Anna was giving half her wage to her family, she’d have just cause, but Minnie couldn’t possibly know. Pastor Gabe had promised to keep the source of the gift secret.

  “Don’t look now,” Minnie hissed, “but here come Mrs. Kensington and Mrs. Neidecker.”

  Anna looked up and, sure enough, the two women were headed her way. Under no circumstances did she want to face their interrogation, so she drifted toward the band, which chose that moment to take a break. As the din settled into relative quiet, one shrill voice rose above everyone else’s.

  “She’s nothing more than a mechanic’s daughter.”

  Eloise Grattan. Though Anna knew the icy slur was spoken from envy, it still hurt. Her hope that no one had heard evaporated as every eye turned toward her. Not only did they hear; they knew Eloise was speaking of her.

  Anna tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. She tried to smile, but it looked false. She tried to let the barb bounce off by straightening her back, but it had struck home, mortally wounding her pride. She stood, alone, in the middle of the room.

  Then, from the midst of the faceless crowd strode Brandon, fire in his eyes. His cane tapped across the polished wood floor, but he didn’t lean on it. He wielded it like a weapon and walked faster than she’d ever seen him move.

  When he reached her side, he extended his arm. “I believe I promised your mother to get you home early.”

  Anna knew what he was trying to do, but she could not leave now. It would confirm what those bullies were saying and imprint her humiliation in their minds forever.

  She lifted her chin. “Ma told me to stay as long as I wanted.” She glared at Eloise, who turned away and pretended to check her necklace to make sure the clasp was still in the back. “I want to stay.”

  Admiration shone in Brandon’s eyes. As people returned to their conversations and the band resumed playing, he leaned close. “Then I believe I owe you a dance.”

  Anna’s heart leaped as he set aside his cane and took her in his arms. All the snobbery in the world could not ruin this night, not when Brandon held her close.

  She sank into his arms, trying to remember the steps that Mariah had taught her. Brandon was patient when she hesitated and held her at a proper distance. Some of the young couples danced horrifyingly close to each other. Lydia Renfrew, her lips stained red, actually leaned her face on Joe Neidecker’s shoulder. Anna shuddered.

  “Are you cold?” Brandon asked.

  She drew her attention back to him. “Not when I’m with you.” That was true. He sent warmth surging to her very toes. His touch burned. His gaze...oh, my. She could swoon at the
way he looked at her.

  The straight nose, strong jaw and dimple in his chin. The spicy smell that dizzied her. Oh, he was fully a man. The feel of his hand on her back, the way they spun across the floor without the hint of a limp. She saw nothing but him, heard nothing but his words, felt nothing but his touch. She could stay in this dream forever.

  * * *

  It took all of Brandon’s skill not to wobble when he landed on his lame foot. He hadn’t danced since before the injury, but for Anna he would do anything. Her eyes shone. Her face glowed. Truly she was the most beautiful woman in the room. The others faded away beside her.

  He spread his fingers against the small of her back, feeling again that jolt of pleasure. Perfume clouded the room, but he could still smell her soapy clean scent. He greatly preferred it.

  Midway through the second dance, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

  “Are you tired?” He hadn’t considered that she might grow fatigued.

  Her perfect lashes fluttered open. “I could dance all night.”

  So could he, as long as he was with her. That thought caught him by surprise This had truly been a night for surprises, all of them delightful. Anna’s stunning beauty. The way she looked at him. Feeling her hand on his arm and now holding her close. Every bit of it felt like a dream, as if it belonged to some other man.

  He didn’t deserve such happiness.

  Yet she gazed at him with such warmth that even that painful thought melted away. He saw only her. Sparkling eyes. Upturned nose. Rosy lips curved into a smile. He had the terrible urge to kiss her right there and then, but of course that would set the gossips afire. So he looked over her shoulder and saw...

  Anna stumbled when Brandon halted in midstride. He steadied her by reflex, but his attention was focused on something over her shoulder.

  * * *

  “What is it?” She twisted to see what he was looking at, but Eloise Grattan blocked her view.

  Instead of answering her, he dropped her hand and swayed on his feet, his expression turned to stone.

  “Brandon,” she cried, afraid she’d overexerted him.

  She looked around for his cane but couldn’t see it, so she offered him her arm.

  He brushed it aside and stepped past her.

  She turned and this time saw Brandon’s brother standing in the doorway, a foolish grin fixed on his face. The lights glittered off droplets of melted snow on his coat. He must have just arrived.

  “Brother,” Reggie said, stepping toward them. “I never expected to see you at a ball.”

  Brandon snapped, “Shouldn’t you be in college?”

  Anna cringed, praying the brothers wouldn’t argue in front of all these people. Sally Neidecker slithered up beside Reggie and wrapped her arm around his. “We couldn’t miss Daddy’s party.” She shot a look of triumph at Anna. “We drove all day to get here.”

  Brandon looked as though he would explode. “Reginald, we need to talk.” He spotted the cane that Anna couldn’t find and limped toward it. “At the house. Now.”

  Anna reached for the cane, but Eloise Grattan got there first. She snatched the cane away from Anna and gave it to Brandon, who mumbled his thanks before turning back to his brother. Anna felt sick.

  What had happened? In an instant, the evening had been ruined. Everyone watched the brothers.

  Even the band stopped playing. Minnie looked horrified. Eloise smirked. After a moment of feeling abandoned, Anna felt her anger build. Why had Reggie shown up today? He’d ruined everything and acted as though he didn’t care.

  Brandon abruptly left Reggie and limped toward her. His jaw ticked, and she spotted distress in his eyes. Her anger evaporated, replaced with the deep desire to help and comfort him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said with genuine regret, “but I must return home. I can fetch you later if you wish to stay.”

  She shook her head. Without Brandon, the ball held no appeal. “Please take me home.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “How bad is it?” Brandon sat at the desk in his library, steeling himself for the news.

  His stomach had churned from the moment Reggie told him he was in trouble. Nothing less would have pulled him from Anna’s arms. Those few moments on the dance floor had made him feel whole again. He’d believed that anything was possible.

  Reggie examined the books on the half-full shelves. “Where did the rest of these things go? You didn’t sell them, did you?”

  “They’re at the store,” Brandon growled, impatient that his brother was trying to evade the question at hand.

  Reggie, book in hand, whirled around. “You’re selling the family collection? You, who loves these musty old things more than life itself?”

  “I have an antiquarian bookstore. In case you happened to miss your classics courses, that means the books are old.”

  Reggie fanned the pages of a book. “There’s no need for sarcasm.” He replaced it on the shelf and pulled off the next one.

  He gripped a pencil in both hands. “You didn’t answer my question. How bad is your situation?”

  “If the lenders have their way, I’ll soon be on my way to becoming one of your precious antiquities.”

  Brandon snapped the pencil in half. “Are you saying that they threatened to beat you?”

  “No.” After fanning the pages of the book, Reggie replaced it. “They promised to kill me.”

  Brandon sucked in his breath. Reggie had a gift for hyperbole, but this time felt different despite his brother’s affected nonchalance. Brandon had seen a trace of fear behind that carefully crafted exterior. “Who are they?”

  “Some bootlegging thugs from Detroit.”

  “Bootleggers?” Brandon slammed his fist on the desktop, making the fountain pen jump off the blotter. “Why would you get involved with criminals like that? Don’t answer.” He waved away his foolish question. “The point is, all we need to do is contact the authorities.”

  Reggie’s derisive laugh grated on his nerves. “The authorities are in on it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A little money goes a long way toward police protection.”

  Brandon felt ill. “Why would you get involved with people like that?”

  Reggie abandoned the books and peered into a vase on the fireplace mantel. “I needed cash, and you weren’t willing to loan me any.”

  Brandon exploded to his feet. “Because your debts came from gaming and womanizing.” He would shake some sense into this brother of his if it took all he had. “You’re supposed to be studying. Do you have any idea what people have sacrificed for your sake?”

  Reggie appeared unmoved by Brandon’s appeal or threatening stance. “Father? He never sacrificed anything for either of us. You know that.”

  “You’re wrong.” Brandon couldn’t believe he was about to defend Father, but he’d learned a few things these past months. “He sold the Simmons house and garage to pay your debts.”

  Reggie shrugged. “Father had a lot of property. What’s one house more or less? Or are you upset he didn’t leave you more?”

  Brandon could have throttled the fool. “Those were the last properties he had left.”

  “There’s this house.”

  Brandon bulled past Reggie’s insensitivity to make his point. “In order to pay your debts, Father sold a widow’s house and forced her to move.”

  At last his brother looked the slightest bit distressed. It was good to see a tiny flicker of human decency still dwelled in the man.

  “Yes,” Brandon repeated for emphasis, “a poor widow and her daughter had to leave the only house they’ve known.”

  Reggie’s insipid grin finally disappeared. “I didn’t realize... Wait a minute. Did you say Simmons? As in the girl who keeps
house for you? The one living in the carriage house? The one you were waltzing around the dance floor tonight despite your bum leg?”

  “If you say one word against Anna or her mother...” He let the threat hang unfinished.

  “Fine, fine.” Reggie backed away, hands up in surrender. “I had no idea she meant that much to you.”

  Did she mean something to him? Brandon liked Anna, certainly. He wanted the best for her. He enjoyed her company, but he wasn’t in love with her. He couldn’t be. She deserved a good man, an honorable man, not one stained with the blood of innocents.

  He struggled to explain himself and wipe the simpering grin off Reggie’s face. “I simply meant you shouldn’t slander an innocent woman, especially one you don’t know.”

  “And one you do.”

  Brandon would not see Anna’s reputation sullied. “Unlike you, I have never acted less than the gentleman with any woman, and that includes Miss Simmons.”

  Reggie plopped onto the sofa. “I’m sure of that. You haven’t done one wild thing in your life. Never take a risk. Never try for anything really important.”

  Brandon could have slapped him. Instead, he settled for slipping back behind his desk. His leg ached, and his emotions were frayed. Neither lent to calm decision making, but Reggie was his brother and his responsibility. If his life was at stake—and he believed Reggie was telling the truth about that, at least—then he must help.

  He pulled the checkbook from the drawer. “How much do you need and when do you need it?”

  Reggie sat up, the smirk gone, and made his way to the desk. “Thank you, brother. I knew I could count on you.”

  “How much?” He poised the pen over the check. “Two thousand? That’s what you told me during the last telephone call.”

  Reggie licked his lips. “Three, more or less.”

  “Three thousand?” Brandon dropped the pen.

  Reggie backed away. “I knew you’d react this way. It’s just money, and what’s money anyway?”

  “It’s what feeds and clothes you,” Brandon growled, “and what keeps you in college, which apparently is an unwise investment.”