Love, Come to Me(103)

Lucy knew that sooner or later, she and Raine would find themselves in a situation in which they would have the opportunity to speak privately. She wondered all through Saturday and Sunday about what the other woman would be like when Heath wasn’t around. Would Raine continue to play the game of Southern belle, or would she choose to reveal something about why she was really here? On Monday morning, Heath left early and went to the offices on Washington Street, and Amy excused herself from the table, leaving Lucy and Raine alone in the breakfast room.

Adding more sugar to her coffee and stirring it carefully, Lucy looked at the other woman with a measuring glance. Raine was lovely in a faded pink gown. A velvet ribbon had been woven through those astoundingly perfect ringlets of hair, called “kiss curls.” Raine stared back at her with a faint smile.

For the first time, they would talk to each other without an audience.

“Well, it appears that we’ve been deserted,” Lucy said, setting down her spoon and taking a sip of coffee.

“I’m glad we’re alone. I would like to thank you again, privately, for your kindness to Amy and me. We certainly don’t wish to be the cause of any trouble in your home.”

Lucy smiled in response to the delicate insinuation. “Please don’t worry. You haven’t caused any trouble at all.”

“There’s not a word of truth in that,” Raine said with a mellifluous laugh. “Unexpected company’s always trouble. But I’ll be leaving for England soon, and then you’ll have your home and your husband all to yourself again.”

Lucy’s spine stiffened at the implication that Raine had somehow undermined her position as Heath’s wife. “You’re welcome in my home. And I don’t mind any of the time that my husband wishes to spend with either of his sisters.” Lucy emphasized the last word lightly. After giving Raine a few seconds to digest that, she continued in a casual tone. “How exciting the prospect of living in England must be.”

“I wish I felt that way. But a transplanted Southerner is always a sorry sight. In fact, knowing Heath as I do, I just can’t understand what he is doing up here.” Her clear gray eyes took in every nuance of Lucy’s alert expression. “You should have seen him when he set foot on the plantation . . . he just looked around and took a deep breath, and talked about how good it was to feel the sun on his face again. Poor thing, I’ve never seen him so blue. Downright peaked. But a week or two in Virginia, and he was nearly himself again. It reminds me of what my mama always said—Southerners just aren’t meant to live anywhere but in the South. I don’t know what Heath was thinking of when he moved to the North. People here don’t understand men like him. Not that you don’t know how to please him . . . why, he’s just crazy about you. If anyone could keep him happy living up North, I know it’d be you.”

“So far it’s worked out quite well.” It was a struggle for Lucy to keep from sounding defensive. “He’s carving out a unique place for himself here. His accomplishments with the Examiner have been extraordinary.”

“Oh . . . that newspaper. Well, he certainly is living out his daddy’s dream. But someday I hope he’ll decide to follow his own dreams.”

“He seems to be quite happy with what he is doing.”

“Oh . . .” Raine cast her eyes down contritely. “I didn’t mean to imply that he wasn’t. Of course he’s happy. Of course.”

There was a note in her voice that irritated Lucy beyond reason, as if Raine were speaking to a distraught child that required soothing. Some of her annoyance must have been evident, for Raine gave her an appealing smile that was colored with more than a hint of satisfaction.

Lucy’s mind raced as she searched for the right words to say, words that would somehow show Raine that she, Lucy, was married to him and intended to stay that way. I’m his wife. You can’t change that, much as you’d like to. And if you had ever known him as well I do, you would never have given him up to marry Clay. The thought returned a measure of her confidence. “It’s only right that you’re concerned about Heath’s happiness,” she said. “You’re his sister-in-law—”

“And I’ve known him for years.”

“But you don’t know much about the way things are for him now. His life is exactly the way he wants it. He is following his own dreams, not anyone else’s. New dreams. His old ones died long ago.”

Raine’s smile faltered. “Some things never change.”

Now the line was drawn. Lucy had never thought that one of the fiercest battles of her life would be fought over a breakfast table, with quiet words carefully chosen. “Many things about Heath have changed.”

“He’ll always be a Southerner,” Raine insisted gently.

“But not strictly so. He has been successful here because of his ability to change. Now there’s some New England in him, too.” Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Lucy almost wanted to smile as she heard herself. Heath would have died, had he been witness to this conversation.

“It might make you happy to think that.” Now Raine was visibly trembling. “Maybe it’s even true. But you don’t know what he wants. If he’s between two worlds right now, then I know which one he belongs in, and someday he’ll come back to it.”