Amaryllis (42 page)

Amaryllis stared. She had to swallow twice before she could form words in a proper sequence. “Aunt Sophy, are you telling us that you ran off with Great-uncle Harold?”

“Indeed,” Sophy murmured. “Caused quite a stir in the family, I don't mind telling you. Thought my father would murder Harold before it was all over. But they eventually came to terms.”

“Uncle Harold?” Hannah's eyes widened. “I don't believe it.”

“It's the truth. Word of honor.” Sophy poured a measure of cooking brandy into a glass and took a healthy swallow. Her eyes snapped with mischief. “It was all hushed up, of course. Everyone pretended that Harold and I had been properly matched by a big agency in the city. But that was
nothing more than a social lie. Harold and I never went to any agency. We went to bed. As often as we could.”

Amaryllis gazed at her, astonished. “That's amazing.”

“Not nearly as amazing as the fact that you're planning to do the same thing I did, my dear. Congratulations.” Sophy toasted her with the brandy glass. “Nice to see that there's a bit of the rebel in you after all. I must say, I'd begun to worry that you were doomed to turn into a prissy little straitlaced prude.”

Amaryllis winced.

Hannah was outraged. “Aunt Sophy, how can you say such a thing?”

“Because it's true.” Sophy aimed an accusing finger at Amaryllis. “You've spent your whole life trying to make up for what your mother did. About time you went out and caused a little excitement for yourself. No guts, no glory.”

Hannah's mouth tightened with anger. “Sophy, we are talking about Amaryllis's marriage here. It's one thing to cause some excitement. It's quite another to risk making a mistake she'll have to live with for the rest of her life.”

A crash from the adjoining room made all three women glance toward the wall. The pots on the stove trembled.

“I'm not so sure that she's making a mistake.” Sophy sounded thoughtful. “Mr. Trent appears to be the sort of man who's willing to fight for what he wants. If Oscar has an ounce of sense, he'll negotiate a truce.”

Hannah made a disgusted sound. “How can there be any truce between them? Oscar will never accept a nonagency marriage for Amaryllis.”

The thuds and crashes from the study ceased abruptly. A great silence descended.

When the study door opened a long time later, Amaryllis dropped the knife she had been using to chop vegetables. It clattered on the drain board. She hastily wiped her hands on her apron and rushed out into the hall.

Hannah and Sophy followed.

Lucas emerged first from the study. He had a cut lip, his shirt was torn, and his hair was mussed, but he looked
amazingly pleased with himself. He grinned wryly at Amaryllis.

“After extensive discussion of the situation, your uncle and I have reached an agreement that is suitable to both parties,” Lucas said.

“What agreement?” Amaryllis asked, suspicious.

Oscar strolled out of the study. He looked as battered as Lucas. He cradled one hand gingerly in the other and gave Amaryllis a satisfied smile.

“Long engagement,” Oscar said succinctly.

Amaryllis glanced from her uncle to Lucas. “How long?”

“A year,” Oscar said forcefully.

“Six months,” Lucas said quietly. “At the outside.”

Oscar glowered at him. Then he sighed. “What the hell. She's smart. She'll come to her senses in six months.”

“In the meantime, we will follow an old family tradition,” Sophy said imperiously.

Oscar scowled. “What old family tradition?”

“As far as everyone outside the family is concerned, this is an agency match.” Sophy eyed each of the people standing in front of her in turn. “All of our friends, neighbors, business associates, and enemies will be told the same thing. Amaryllis and Lucas were brought together by a proper marriage agency in the city. Is that clear?”

“Quite clear,” Hannah said.

Oscar grimaced. “I hear you, Sophy. Don't worry, I sure don't plan to discuss it.”

“This is family business,” Amaryllis murmured. She looked at Sophy. “I take it the old family tradition Lucas and I will be following is the one you and Great-uncle Harold established?”

“It is,” Sophy said grandly. “We will look everyone right in the eye and we will lie through our teeth.” She switched her attention to Lucas. “Well, Lucas? Do you have a problem with that?”

Lucas grinned. “It works for me. Lying through my teeth is something I do real well.”

That evening after dinner Lucas left the large crowd cleaning up in the kitchen and went outside onto the wide
veranda. Sophy reclined in a lounger at the far end. The porch light turned her hair into a silver cloud around her strong face. She was keeping an eye on the host of youngsters who were playing beneath the porch lights in the large yard.

The children were the sons and daughters of the adults who were gathered in the kitchen. There seemed to be an endless number of them. It struck Lucas that the youngsters, as well as the cluster of youths and adults inside the big house, were all related in one way or another to Amaryllis. After the wedding, they would all be connected to him.

After so many years of being on his own, he was going to have a family. A very large family.

He paused for a moment, wrapped his hands around the veranda railing and allowed himself to absorb the prospect of being related to so many people. He would have obligations, responsibilities, and duties. There would be christenings, birthday parties, engagement parties, weddings, and funerals to attend. Given his position as the owner of a large corporation, he would no doubt be expected to find jobs for some of the members of the younger generation.

The children ran, shrieking and laughing, through the warm night. The twin moons combined with the lights from the big house gave them all the illumination they needed to pursue their games. In a few years, Lucas thought, the kids that he and Amaryllis would have together would be playing out here in the night with their cousins. It was all part of an endless web that reached into the future even as it stretched back into the past.

A family of his own.

Lucas released the railing and continued on to the far end of the veranda. He sat down in the chair next to Sophy and stretched out his legs.

Sophy smiled with satisfaction. Her request for him to join her had been civil enough, but Lucas was not fooled. He had recognized an order when he had heard one.

They sat quietly, side by side, for a while, watching the children.

“So you're the one she's chosen,” Sophy said after a time.
“Took her long enough. But, then, it's not easy for an off-the-scale prism.”

“You know the full extent of Amaryllis's psychic abilities?”

“Recognized them when she was in her teens,” Sophy said. “It was like watching myself mature all over again.”

Lucas exhaled slowly. “You, too?”

“It's in the blood. Runs through the women on my side of the family. Getting stronger with each generation, I think.”

“I see.”

“It's not easy for prisms like us. Officially, our level of psychic power doesn't even exist because there's simply no way to test it beyond assessing our ability to handle a class-ten talent. The fact that we don't burn out doing so doesn't really tell the researchers anything except that we are full spectrum.” Sophy shrugged. “We go through life aware that we're different but never really understanding just how different.”

Lucas was silent for a moment. Then he decided to tell Sophy the truth. She was family, after all.

“I know the feeling,” Lucas said.

“Yes, I expect you do. Just how far off the talent scale are you?”

“I have no idea.”

“Of course not. Stupid question. There's no way to test you, either, is there?”

“No.” Lucas settled deeper into his chair. “But I've got my papers. Class nine. Faked the talent certification exam. Lied through my teeth.”

“As you now know, that's an old family tradition. Ever burn out Amaryllis?”

“No.”

“I knew she was strong.” Sophy watched two of the children chase the ball into the shadows at the edge of the garden. “Talent or prism, it's all psychic energy. A very volatile component of our being. We all have to wage our own private struggles to learn to cope with our sixth sense.”

Lucas thought about the long hours he had spent in his secret grotto. “Yeah.”

“I have a hunch that the stronger it is, the harder it is to
manage. Personally, I went a little wild during my younger days. Gave my family fits. Amaryllis chose the opposite approach. She tried to control her world, herself, and her psychic powers with lots of personal rules.”

“She didn't invent all those rules just to control her psychic abilities,” Lucas said. “She needed them for other reasons, too.”

“Yes,” Sophy said. “She did. Growing up in this town as Matt Bailey's illegitimate daughter was the kind of experience that was bound to make or break her character. She came through it with flying colors, I'm pleased to say.”

“But she paid a price,” Lucas said.

Sophy shrugged. “We all do, one way or another. I asked you to come out here tonight because I wanted to make certain you understood that. I can see that you do.”

Lucas contemplated the shape of Amaryllis's derriere as she climbed up the barn loft ladder ahead of him. It was a pleasant sight, one he would have been content to enjoy for an extended period of time. Unfortunately, there were not many rungs on the ladder.

“This is it,” she announced as she scrambled off the ladder and tumbled into the straw. “No beautiful green pool and no dripping rock walls for atmosphere, but on a farm you take what you can get.”

Lucas reached the top rung of the ladder and looked around the shadowy loft with great interest. This was Amaryllis's secret place. Sunlight seeped through the small cracks in the wooden walls. The scent of the stored feed and straw was rich in his nostrils. Down below, a big ox-mule shifted on its six legs.

“It's a good place,” Lucas said.

“Yes, it is, isn't it? But it seems smaller now than it did when I was a kid.”

Lucas eased himself off the ladder and sat down beside her. “I guess things in the past often seem smaller when we go back and face them as adults.”

Amaryllis rested her chin on her knees. “I'm going to test that theory this afternoon.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm going to call on Elizabeth Bailey.”

Lucas nodded. “What changed your mind?”

“You did.”

“Me?”

“What you did for Dillon, even though his parents had shunned you for three years. It was the right thing. The kind of thing one does for family. It made me think.”

“Fancy that,” Lucas murmured. “Me, a model of family values.”

Amaryllis smiled. “A regular paragon of founders' virtues. But, then, I always knew you were a hero.”

Elizabeth Bailey was, indeed, smaller than Amaryllis had remembered. No taller than Amaryllis, herself, to be exact. But she was no less formidable than she had seemed that day all those years ago when Amaryllis had run up to her on the street and asked her the question that defined their relationship.
Are you really my grandmother?

Elizabeth was still every bit as striking as Amaryllis recalled. Her aristocratic features were firm and strong. Her eyes were a sharp, vivid green, the same shade of green that Amaryllis saw in the mirror every morning.

“I suppose you are wondering why I asked you to visit me.” Elizabeth put down her delicate porcelain coff-tea cup. She regarded Amaryllis and Lucas with the cool, contained expression of a woman who had encountered many obstacles over the years and who has surmounted them all.

“Yes,” Amaryllis said. “I am.”

Elizabeth flicked an assessing glance at Lucas. Then she looked at Amaryllis. “I understand that the two of you are engaged.”

“Yes,” Amaryllis said.

“Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Amaryllis waited.

Other than the soft hum of the mantle clock, there was no sound in the vast, elaborately draped and carpeted living room. The atmosphere was heavy and oppressive. Amaryllis had to resist a strong urge to open a window. It felt as if there had been no fresh air in this house for years.

“I requested this meeting so that I could give you something,” Elizabeth said after a moment.

Amaryllis barely managed to conceal her surprise. “That's not necessary. I don't want anything from you.”

“Yes, I know.” Elizabeth's smile was bitter. “Your mother's family has given you everything you've needed.”

“Yes, they did.” Amaryllis put down her untouched cup of coff-tea. She glanced at Lucas. “I've been very lucky.”

“I have not been lucky at all,” Elizabeth said. “But it is only now that I see the woman you have become that I realize the true extent of my misfortune.”

Amaryllis stilled. “I don't understand.”

“No, I don't suppose you do. Well, that is not important any longer. I am responsible for most of my own ill luck, and I have no one to blame but myself.”

Amaryllis thought of what Sophy had said about Elizabeth assuming the guilt for what had happened in the past. She smiled in spite of herself. “My great-aunt once said that you had a talent for drama. She thinks it's a shame that you didn't go into the theater.”

Elizabeth looked briefly disconcerted. “Am I being melodramatic?”

“A little, but that's all right.” Amaryllis felt herself begin to relax for some inexplicable reason. “It's a somewhat melodramatic occasion, isn't it?”

“It certainly strikes me that way.” Elizabeth picked up a small box that had been sitting on the table beside her chair. “Well, I mustn't keep you. This is for you.”