CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

Daphne Duprey turned from the window. “Wasn’t that precious? Who would have thought that Wilbur would be attracted to a mousy nobody like Claire Cavanaugh?”

Boothe lifted an eyebrow. “Mousy? She may not be as striking as her mother was, but she certainly has some very appealing qualities.”

Letting out a loud huff, Daphne stalked into the bedroom and began dressing in quick, angry motions.

“Leaving so soon?” Boothe asked from the doorway, a glass of wine in his hand.

She gave him a frosty look in the mirror as she carefully put on her hat. “My parents are expectin’ me for Sunday dinner.”

“You’re in rather a feisty mood today.”

“Maybe I’m just tired of you reminding me how beautiful and desirable Claire Cavanaugh is.” She picked up her bag and walked toward the doorway, pausing in front of him to add, “Maybe I want to hear you say how beautiful and desirable I am!”

“Well, of course you are.”

She gave him a look of pure distrust, then marched down the wide, marbled hallway to the front door. “I’m surprised you didn’t court Claire yourself. Then you and the sheriff could both look like fools!” She slammed the door before he could reply.

Boothe laughed as he poured more wine. She’d be back. She liked his expensive presents too much to stay away for long. Sipping his wine, he stood at the window gazing down the street. So McCane had actually proposed, had he? That certainly made things a lot simpler. All he had to do now was sit back and wait. As soon as the marriage had taken place, he and McCane could begin their plans in earnest.

Wilbur, Wilbur! Boothe thought, with a shake of his head. What a fool. Didn’t he realize a woman of Claire’s beauty would never marry him? For a moment, he thought back to what Daphne had said about pursuing Claire himself. But that would have been utterly ridiculous -- Claire was too common to be the wife of Reginald Boothe.

He let the wine roll around on his tongue, savoring the smoky taste and dry texture. Ah, how he enjoyed the finer things in life. All he really lacked was Bellefleur, and that had just come within his reach.

 

That afternoon, with Tyler and Jonas out on the LADY LUCK and the weather mild, Lulu decided the ladies should have a picnic down by the river, under the big oak trees. Blankets were set up, food was carried down , and they all ate lunch feeling lazy and contented. Only Mrs. Parks was absent; the trek down the slope was too arduous for her.

“Are we all going to live here together after you’re married, Cee Cee?” Emily asked.

Claire leaned back on her elbows, enjoying the warm sunshine. “Of course we will. Tyler seems to love Bellefleur almost as much as we do, Em.”

“But what about the house he’s going to build?”

“He might sell it, I suppose.”

“Will he keep his boat?”

Claire pondered the question. There was much she didn’t know about her future husband. “I would think so. It’s his pride and joy.”

“Is Lulu going to stay and work for us?”

Lulu reached across the blanket to pat Emily’s hand. “I never plan that far ahead, angel.”

“You can’t leave!” Emily cried, scooting over to hug her. “Cee Cee, tell Lulu she can’t!”

Claire’s gaze met Lulu’s over Emily’s head. “We do want her to stay, Em, but that must be Lulu’s decision.”

At the clatter of wheels on the dusty road, they turned. Claire stood to look up the slope toward the house. “It’s Sheriff Simons. I wonder what he wants now?”

“Want us to go back to the house with you?” Lulu asked.

“No, I’m sure it’s not important. I’ll be back shortly.” Claire started toward the house at a fast stride, her irritation growing. Though at first she had been annoyed at Emily for letting the sheriff know about her engagement, then she had decided it was for the best. With Tyler around, the sheriff would have to stop pestering her. So what did he want now?

“Hello, Sheriff,” she called as she came up the driveway.

He was standing on the porch, getting ready to knock. He turned in surprise. “Oh, hello, Cee Cee.” Doffing his hat, he watched her come up the porch steps. “I hope I’m not interrupting. There’s something I need to talk to you about - urgently.”

Claire frowned in concern. “Is it about Gunter?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. Nothing like that. It’s kind of personal, though.” He looked around and spotted the swing. “Can we sit down?”

Claire seated herself on the swing, which sagged as the sheriff settled his bulk. “What is it you want to talk about?”

He crumpled the brim of his hat in his hands, staring at the floor. “Well, this is kind of embarrassing, Cee Cee. I’m not sure how to say this without –“ He paused, groping for words. “I guess the best thing to do is just to say it flat out.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “It would be a serious mistake if you married Tyler McCane.”

Claire nearly laughed. He was jealous! “And why is that, Sheriff?”

“I know you’re thinking I’m just looking out for my own interests, but you’ve got to believe me. It’s more than that, Cee Cee. I’ve been watching what’s been going on for some time.”

Emily had been right again -- the sheriff had been spying on her.

“I have to say this `cause I’m partial to you,” Simons went on. “The only reason Tyler McCane is marring you is to get your land.”

Claire gave him a look of disbelief. “Sheriff, Mr. McCane bought the property next to mine. He has land.”

The sheriff was growing frustrated. “But that property doesn’t go down to the river. He needs your land for his plans. He and Mr. Boothe want to put in more docks. They’re gonna buy a whole fleet of riverboats and run `em from here. And they’re gonna turn your house into an inn!”

“An inn?” Claire felt as though someone had poured ice water through her veins. The sheriff had to be mistaken -- or lying. Yet she knew he wouldn’t make accusations against Reginald Boothe unless he knew they were true.

“Yes, ma’am. An inn to house the visitors the boats would bring in.”

She sat numbly staring at him, her hands clasped tightly together in her lap. “Then Tyler and Boothe are partners,” she stated in a flat voice. At his nod, she looked away, feeling as though a dagger had been driven through her heart. She had been betrayed again.

“If you don’t believe me, ask McCane yourself. Or ask that man of his. He’s in on it, too.” “Jonas!” Claire whispered. The man who had befriended Emily had misled them, too.

“I’m sorry if this hurts you, Cee Cee,” the sheriff told her. “I thought you ought to know who you were marrying.”

Claire rose on wooden legs. “Thank you, Sheriff, for being honest with me.”

He rose, too, and looked at her with sympathy. “Are you gonna be all right?”

Claire nodded, unable to speak.

He stared at her for a moment, then put on his hat. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

Claire couldn’t look at him as he lumbered out to his buggy. She stood staring out at the river, holding onto the porch post for support. Docks, boats, an inn - at Bellefleur! Had Tyler planned this from the beginning? Was that why he had come to town to see Boothe? And to think she had tried to warn Tyler about Boothe’s character! The thought of him working with that evil man made her sick to her stomach.

Claire suddenly remembered what Tyler had said to comfort her after she had received Lance’s letter. “You don’t need Lance. He didn’t love Bellefleur like you do. You need someone who respects the land, someone who has vision.”

She hadn’t guessed that Tyler had been talking about himself. Now she realized he was the one who had vision – a vision of turning her home into an inn, and putting her land to use harboring his boats -- with Reginald Boothe as his partner.

“Lance didn’t love me,” she had told Tyler. “All that time I believed he cared, and he only wanted my father’s money. How could I have been so naive? How could I have trusted him?”

“He’s a fool, Claire. No one has to offer what you have.”

Claire pressed a hand to her aching heart. No one had to offer what she had -- and what Tyler and Boothe needed – valuable riverfront land. Everything Tyler had said to her suddenly made sense. And everything he hadn’t said suddenly became too much to bear. He didn’t love her. He was simply using her.

“You’re a good woman, Claire. A kind, decent woman.” And an extremely gullible one, she thought bitterly. At least Tyler had never pretended that he loved her, as Lance had. But each time Tyler had come to her rescue, she had assumed it was because he felt something for her -- a feeling she had mistakenly believed was love. She had even endowed him with her father’s heroism. Now she knew those rescues had only been to further Tyler’s own selfish interests.

Claire recalled suddenly what Tyler had said to her just after he proposed. “Shall we seal our agreement with a kiss?” His words had struck her as odd at the time. Now she understood: to Tyler, this was business.

The sound of Emily’s laughter drew Claire’s attention back to the river. She knew they were waiting for her to return, wondering why the sheriff had come -- but what would she tell them? Claire started down the slope, her mind numb. Should she tell them the truth? Should she say she’d just found out that Tyler was a liar? That he was using her? That Reginald Boothe was back in their lives, trying to take over their land?

Claire pressed her lips together. She would say nothing until she had time to sort out her thoughts.

Only three things were clear: she could not marry a man who was partners with Boothe; she could never trust Tyler again; and -- she would never stop loving him.

 

Tyler strode down the ramp with Jonas, whistling a carefree tune. It felt good to be going to a home where a family awaited him. It would feel even better when he had a luscious female body to snuggle against at night. His desire flared as he pictured Claire with her long hair unbound, dressed in only a thin night robe.

“What’s that you’re whistling?” Jonas asked.

Tyler paused and frowned thoughtfully. “I don’t know the name of it. I think it’s something I learned as a boy.”

“Isn’t that the song Lulu always sings?”

“Is it?”

“I’m sure it is.” Jonas began to sing in his baritone, “While strolling through the park one day, in the merry, merry month of May, I was taken by surprise –“

”And you accused Lulu of destroying that song?” Tyler quipped. “By the time you’re through, a miracle couldn’t save it.”

“I’ve been told I have a rather charming voice,” Jonas said haughtily.

“To a snake, maybe.”

Jonas sniffed. “A member of the English court told me that, if you must know.”

“Who? The jester?”

Jonas cast him a dour look. “Jesters have been out of vogue for quite some time. But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, being from the Colonies. I keep forgetting they don’t teach history in schools here -- only readin’, writin’ and `rithmatic.”

Tyler laughed. “Touché, Jonas.”

His assistant gave him a wary look. “What has your funny bone twitching today?”

“I’ve been thinking --”

“That’s encouraging.”

“--That maybe Claire and I should get married aboard the LADY LUCK.”

“Is that right? I’ll grant you that would be nice, but you might want to consult Claire. Females usually have pretty strong feelings about their wedding plans.”

“I hope she doesn’t want anything fancy.”

“If she does, you’d better smile and tell her you’ll do whatever pleases her. Remember, Ty, she’s still getting over the shock of losing her fiancé and he was quite a selfish bastard. You don’t want to appear as though you were cut from the same cloth.” Jonas hoisted himself into the buggy and took up the reins. “When are you going to break the news to Boothe?”

“Tomorrow,” Tyler replied, climbing in beside him.

“How do you think he’ll react to losing not only his partner, but also his plans for Bellefleur?”

“Calm on the outside, but inside he’ll be boiling mad. Not that I blame him; I’d feel the same way. The real question is what he’ll do with that anger.”

Jonas turned to look at him. “What are you thinking?”

“We still don’t know if he had a hand in the Greene murder. If there’s any chance he did, then he bears watching, especially where Claire is concerned.”

As they headed back to Bellefleur, Tyler said, “I’ve been thinking about those plans for Claire’s house. There’s no reason why we can’t build an inn on my land instead.”

“That’s a marvelous idea.” Jonas said. “It will certainly make Claire and Emily happy. Which brings me to another topic: when are you planning to have that little chat with Claire?”

“I was thinking about after supper tonight.”

Jonas patted his shoulder. “Good luck, lad. You’re going to need it.”

Jonas worried too much. Claire had already accepted his proposal. Once she understood how much she stood to gain by their marriage, there was no way she would change her mind.

 

The sounds of female chatter and childish laughter gladdened Tyler’s heart as the buggy pulled up to Bellefleur. When he walked into the dining room, he was met by Emily’s and Lulu’s cheerful faces and the salty, crisp aroma of roasted pork. Tyler looked at Claire, hoping for a smile from her, but she seemed preoccupied with putting the food on the table.

They started the meal with a prayer, as was Claire’s custom. Tyler couldn’t help watching her as she bowed her head and closed her eyes, her hands folded serenely under her chin. Claire would make a fine mother. He’d never thought much about having a family; now he began to wonder what it would be like to sit at a table with his wife and children.

“Dear Lord,” Claire began, “we come before you tonight to thank you for this delicious meal and for allowing us to be a part of your beautiful world. We ask that you keep us in your grace and make us healthy and honest. We know how much you value honesty.” She cast a quick glance in Tyler’s direction. “And thank you, Lord, for giving us the strength and courage to fight to keep our wonderful home. You know how much this home means to us. Amen.”

Claire picked up the dish of roasted potatoes and passed them to her right. Tyler watched her, baffled by her odd behavior.

“And what did you ladies do this beautiful afternoon?” Jonas asked, forking a slice of juicy pork from the platter.

“We had a picnic!” Emily exclaimed.

“And we visited Gunter,” Lulu added. “Poor boy –-his spirits are so low. I hope your fancy lawyer comes to see him tomorrow.”

“He will,” Jonas assured her.

“Oh, and one other thing happened,” Emily said with a snicker. “The sheriff paid another social call on Cee Cee.”

Tyler looked at Claire, but she said nothing. “What did he want?”

“Well, he is still sweet on her, you know,” Emily explained. “And I even told him about your engagement.”

“Emily, that’s enough,” Claire said tersely.

Tyler glanced at Claire again, but she said no more. By the tense set of her features, he could tell something was bothering her. A nice stroll along the river might be just what she needed. Tyler was confident that he’d find a way to distract her from her troubling thoughts.

When the dishes were done, Tyler suggested the idea of a walk to her and Claire agreed, though she didn’t seem too excited about it. They walked down to the river in silence, then stood side by side, watching a late barge go past. “Looks like rain is coming,” he remarked, glancing at the sky. When she said nothing, Tyler turned toward her, picking up her hands. “You’re awfully quiet this evening.”

Claire’s gaze finally lifted to his, revealing the same spark of determination he’d seen the first time they met, yet she said nothing.

Hoping to draw her out, he said, “I’ve been thinking about our wedding.” He still avoided using the word marriage, though he kept reminding himself that it wasn’t going to be the typical “till death do us part” arrangement. “It might be fitting to have the ceremony on the LADY LUCK. But whatever you decide is fine with me,” he quickly offered, remembering Jonas’s warning. “I want you to be happy. I know how important these things are to females.” He put one arm around her shoulders and drew her close, hoping to prompt a kiss.

Grinding her teeth together, Claire moved away from him and began walking. His condescending attitude was almost worse than his lies. “I appreciate your consideration,” she forced herself to say.

“I think this will work out well for both of us,” he said. “Think about it: no more boarders, no more fears of losing your home.”

Claire looked at him sharply. How could he say such things when he planned on turning Bellefleur into an inn? Did he think she would stay to run it? “And how will it work out well for you, Tyler?”

“I’ll have a nice winter home and –“

Claire stopped abruptly. “A winter home? What about the rest of the year?”

It looked like the time for this discussion had arrived. “I’ll be on my boat a good deal of the time. You have to understand, Claire: I’m used to coming and going as I please. I won’t be tied down to a place.”

Or a person? Claire rubbed her upper arms. Even if Boothe weren’t in the picture, she was chilled by the prospect of marrying a man who didn’t love her and, in fact, didn’t even want to live with her.

She couldn’t tolerate Tyler’s dishonesty and manipulation any longer.