Iâm the third Tony Currain.â He shook his head. âThereâve been too many of us.â Another glass of wine. âFauntâs the best of us now,â he repeated, âFaunt and Cinda. Tildaâs a fool, and I always hated Trav, till I persuaded Mama to send him off to Chimneys and got rid of him.â
âThatâs where I met him,â she remarked. âI set my cap for him, you know.â
âYou? For old Trav?â He chuckled.
âM-hm! We hadnât a penny, Enid and I. What money Mr. Albion left I spent, and after that we visited and visited till we wore our welcome thin everywhere. Enid was fifteen, but Iâd practically kept her in pinafores, so I could pass for thirty easily enough; but I knew I had to hurry. We were visiting at Emmy Shandonâs, and Trav was so shy and awkward that he seemed an easy catch. I led him to talk about his farming at Chimneys, and he loved it.â
âCanât imagine what youâd see in Trav.â
âWhy, money, and position!â His mood for reminiscent confidences infected her. âIâd have got him, too, if it hadnât been for Enid. She played the adoring child, and I suppose it didnât occur to him to be afraid of her till too late. Iâd persuaded him to give a party at Chimneys, and I was to play hostess for him. Enid wasnât supposed to go, but she did over a dress of mine and put up her hair and made an appearance. She was lovely, of course; and she went to his head. Even then I could have beaten her game, I suppose; but you appeared, so I let her have him.â
âThought you could marry me?â
âOh, I never thought that.â
He asked curiously: âWere you ever in love with me, Nell?â
âEnough. I needed you.â She laughed lightly. âI hadnât a penny, you see.â
He grinned with sudden malice in his eyes. âSpeaking of pennies, Nell, reminds me why I came tonight. The turn of the cards at Merrihayâs
took my last one. My last penny. Andâyouâre an expensive luxury, my dear.â
The attack was so sudden that for a moment she lost her composure. âYouâve always Great Oak!â
âOh, it hasnât paid its way for years.â He laughed briefly. âNormally Iâd go to Cindaâs husband. Brett Dewainâs the banker of the family, handles all the Currain money. Iâve had to stand up to his cross-examinations in the past. But nowâwell, he and Cinda are abroad, wonât be back till October. No, this is final, Nell.â
There was a racing panic in her; she had so long depended on him, could not easily accept this overturn of her world, sought some expedient. âIf you need money, sell some negroes South.â
âWe Currains donât sell our people.â
âYou virtuous Currains!â She was frightened and angry too. âThen take Chimneys away from Trav. Enid says itâs prosperous, and itâs yours as much as his.â
âItâs Mamaâs, not Travâs,â he corrected. âSheâs willed Great Oak to me, and Chimneys to Trav, and Faunt gets Belle Vue, and Cinda the Plains; but theyâre all Mamaâs as long as she lives. And she may live for years.â
âYou can get around her!â She fought to hold him. âIâll go to Chimneys with you.â His eyes met hers in a sardonic glance that warned her his decision was made. âBut I suppose you have some other plan?â He grinned. âI see.â He was flicking her with a light lash, playing one of his cruel games, thinking she would weep, threaten, cajole. âYou want toâwant us to part, Tony?â He wished to savor her flattering supplications; but pride came to her rescue, steadied her tones. âWhy, very well, if thatâs what you want!â
She saw that her easy assent had shaken him. From the bottle beside him he poured the last drop, tilted
Marion Chesney, M.C. Beaton