Bride in Barbados (19 page)

Susan closed the file drawer. "I'm working out a filing
system for Travis. How are you, Violet?" She was surprised that the
cousins were still on Barbados. What did they hope to accomplish here?
It would be more than a year before anything could be finally settled.
Did they intend to stay until then? Violet was wearing a gaudy
pantsuit, its color seeming to emphasize the freckles on her arms.
Someone ought to tell her, Susan thought, that hot pink isn't her color.

Her inclination was to get rid of the woman as quickly as
possible. She recalled Travis's warning her not to talk to his cousins
because they were troublemakers. That, of course, was when he thought
he could keep her from discovering why he had married her. Now the
memory of his words made her feel obstinate, and she forced herself to
be pleasant. "You couldn't have come at a better time. I could use a
break. Mala, would you bring us something cold to drink? Iced tea would
be nice."

It was clear that Mala didn't like the idea of leaving
Susan and Violet alone. Probably Travis had suggested that she keep an
eye on his cousins whenever they were in the house. But in the face of
a direct request from Travis's wife, she would comply, though not
cheerfully. She frowned at Violet's back before she muttered a low
"Yes'm" and left.

"Sit down, Violet." Susan indicated a chair and flopped
down on the leather couch.

"You've been away," Violet said.

"How did you know?"

"I called you the day before yesterday. I thought you
might like to meet me in town for lunch." She glanced toward the door
with a dark look. "That awful Mala was positively rude. She refused to
tell me where you were or when you'd be back. All she would say was
that you and Travis were away on vacation. Honestly, that woman has no
conception of her proper place. I'd fire her so fast she wouldn't know
what hit her."

Susan chuckled, imagining Mala's stubborn refusal to
satisfy Violet's curiosity. "Mala's been here so long, she considers
herself a member of the family. She does have a tendency to bully us,
but she's fiercely loyal. That's quite a point in her favor."

Violet grimaced. "The old family retainer, eh?" She was
studying Susan intently. "If I were you, I'd let Mala know who's boss
from the beginning."

"That's the problem, I think. She already knows." Susan
laughed. "Actually, Mala and I get along very well." The servants were
the least of her worries. It was Travis who was causing all of her
problems. "I'm a little surprised that you and Curt are still here."

"You mean because Travis has been so hateful to us?" She
snorted. "We're used to his nasty moods. He's the spitting image of our
grandfather. Besides, we have a number of acquaintances in Bridgetown.
They've been far more gracious than Travis, so I imagine we'll stay
around for a few more weeks, at least, as long as we're already here.
It's the first vacation we've had in some time." She ran brightly
painted fingernails through her thick, red hair, a nervous gesture. In
fact, almost everything about Violet suggested
nervousness—the way she repeatedly fingered the scooped neck
of her tunic, the way one crossed leg swung back and forth in a jerking
motion, making her backless sandal flop against her heel, the slightly
harried look in her green eyes. She was a high-strung woman whose
unsettled nature seemed barely restrained.

Mala appeared with the tea tray, which she set on the
table between the two women and then, after a slanting look of
disapproval for Violet, she went out again.

"This is a perfect example of Mala's impudence," Violet
complained, picking up her glass. "She didn't even bring lemon slices,
and she knows I prefer my tea with lemon."

"We're probably out of lemon," Susan said. "I think I heard that there's a shortage of citrus fruit in
the areas that supply the island."

Violet grunted her disbelief, sure that Mala was being
deliberately impertinent. Then she said, "Tell me, where did you go for
your vacation?"

"St. John's Parish. We borrowed a beach cottage."

Violet gazed at her. "How romantic."

Avoiding the woman's avidly inquisitive look, Susan
responded, "It was relaxing."

Violet's green eyes ran over her in a way that made Susan
feel uncomfortable. "Well, it appears that you've fallen completely
under Travis's spell."

What did she mean by that? Violet's expression held a
touch of scorn now, as if she knew something demeaning about Susan. She
couldn't possibly have guessed that Susan was pregnant. Or could she?
Susan had always heard that pregnant women have a certain "look", even
in the first months. Maybe Violet
had
noticed a
change in her. She decided that the best course was to pretend to be
unaware of the scornful undertone in Violet's remark. The woman had
made an art of innuendo; it was quite possible that she suspected
nothing but had learned that mysterious statements sometimes evoked
information from others.

"The vacation was a mutual decision. We both needed a
change of scene."

"I must say, you don't look particularly robust, and now
he's got you doing his secretarial work."

"Don't be absurd, Violet. I like having something to do.
I've discovered it's a bit boring, being a lady of leisure."

Violet made a sarcastic sound. "Can't you find something
more interesting than filing? You must get out more, make new friends.
At least you've made one—and you couldn't have chosen better.
Jonathan Wicksham is a charmer, isn't he?"

Susan set down her glass and rested her elbow on the couch
arm, supporting her head with her hand. "I thought you mistrusted all
men."

"That doesn't keep me from noticing the attractive ones."

"I didn't know you knew Jonathan."

"I don't know him very well. Curt and I ran into him in a
restaurant the other day and Curt introduced me. He was alone, so we
had lunch with him."

"And Jonathan mentioned that he and I were friends? How
did that come about?"

"He knew of our relationship to Travis, so it was only
natural. He said he'd given a dinner party for you and Travis, and that
he'd been showing you some of the sights of the island."

"Yes, he has." Susan was getting the impression that the
conversation was making Violet uneasy. Maybe she was embarrassed at
having admitted to discussing Susan with a stranger. "He's been very
kind to me."

Violet set her glass down abruptly. "Listen, I won't keep
you from your dreary occupation any longer. I just wanted to say hello
and ask if you'd like to have lunch before I leave."

Susan hesitated, not willing to be unnecessarily cruel.
"I'll have to see when I'm free. This filing is going to keep me busy
for a while. I'll call you when I can find a convenient time."

Violet got to her feet. "Fine." After a moment, she added,
"There's no reason why you and I can't be friends, regardless of what
disagreements I might have with Travis."

Susan was no more inclined to trust Violet's "friendship"
than she had been the first time they talked. She sensed that
everything the woman did had some hidden motive, and family intrigue
did not appeal to her. "Thanks for coming by," she said, her tone
forestalling any more conversation. "Now I really must get back to
work."

After Violet had gone, she took a package of folders from
the file cabinet and began to label them. Some moments later, she
paused, her attention diverted by the sudden memory of something Violet
had said. Curt had introduced Violet to Jonathan. If that was what had
really happened—and who could ever be sure that what Violet
said was strictly true?—when had
Curt
met Jonathan? She was almost certain that Jonathan had told her he
didn't know Travis's cousins.

He must have met Curt soon after telling her that. Then
she recalled Violet mentioning acquaintances in Bridgetown. One of them
must have introduced Curt and Jonathan. It was of no significance, at
any rate, except that she always felt she had to be on guard with
Violet, suspicious of everything she said or did.

She shrugged these distracting thoughts aside and went
back to the task at hand.

Working on the filing system made the days pass more
quickly for Susan. Sometime after they had returned from the beach
cottage she had all of Travis's records and loose papers filed in
neatly labeled folders that filled two drawers of the cabinet. The only
problem was that when he wanted to find anything now, she could lay
hands on it much faster than he could. After a couple of frustrating
attempts to locate a particular record, he began to ask her for what he
wanted without even looking for it himself.

It wasn't that she minded particularly. In fact, it was
the only way to keep the filing system in order. But she was nagged by
the feeling that she was becoming more and more enmeshed in Travis's
life. Further, she suspected she was using the office work to put off
thinking about her situation and what she ought to do about it; and the
day was fast approaching when her pregnancy would be apparent for all
to see. Now in the end of her fifth month, she had taken to wearing
loose fitting shirts with her shorts and slacks. She continued to feel
chronically tired, too, but now she could blame that on the long hours
of office work. Travis began to urge her to be less conscientious,
saying, "I never meant to turn you into a drudge."

Jonathan had phoned her several times since her holiday
with invitations for dinner, and each time she had begged off. The
truth was that she regretted having confided so completely in him, good
friend though he was. If she hadn't been at such a low emotional point
at the time, she would never have done it. But now she began to worry
that he might have interpreted the confidences concerning her marriage
as a hint that she could be interested in him as more than a
friend—if not now, perhaps after the baby was born.

She didn't realize that he would take her refusals to see
him as an attempt to dissolve their friendship altogether until
Jonathan called at the house to see her. He looked anxious when Mala
showed him into the sunny, wicker-furnished sitting room where Susan
was relaxing after a morning spent at work in the study.

"Jonathan! What a nice surprise." She laid aside her
magazine and extended her hand. He took it, squeezing gently, before he
sat down on the couch next to her.

"Thank you for the warm welcome."

"Did you really expect any other kind?"

"Frankly, yes." He looked apologetic.

"How can you say that, Jonathan? You know I treasure your
friendship."

"I know that you did at one time. Lately you've turned
down my invitations and I was afraid you'd changed your
mind—or that you were sorry for saying some of the things you
said at our last meeting."

Susan looked at her hands clasped in her lap. "You know me
too well." She glanced up with a smile. "I
have
wished that I hadn't run on so that evening, though probably not for
the reasons you think. I've never liked women who go around telling
their troubles to anyone who will listen. It's in such poor taste."

He looked relieved. "My dear Susan, you didn't tell your
troubles to just anyone. I'm your friend, and I hope you haven't been
upsetting yourself with the thought that I've repeated a syllable of
what you said to anyone."

She shook her head. "No. I think I can trust you to keep
your word."

His expression was solemn. "You can, you know. Have you
told Travis?"

"Not yet." She felt suddenly restless and got up to walk
to a window, where she stood looking out for a moment. Then she turned
to him. "I'll be forced to soon, but I want to have some things worked
out in my mind first."

"My offer of help is still open. I'll do anything I can to
make this easier for you."

She wondered if he was referring to the abortion they had
discussed previously. But the time for that alternative had run out
and, besides, her feelings on that score hadn't changed. In fact, the
longer she carried the child, the more unacceptable thoughts of an
abortion had become. In truth, she had started to wonder what the baby
would look like, to want it. Most of the time she managed to
disassociate it from Travis and think of the child as hers alone.

"It's a comfort to know that you're available if I need
you," she said, "but this is my problem and I'll have to deal with it."

His silver-gray eyes looked bleak for a moment. "You seem
less strained, at any rate. Your vacation with your husband must have
agreed with you."

"It was restful, although I didn't expect it to be." She
frowned. "How did you know we'd been away? Did you telephone while I
was gone?"

"As a matter of fact, Travis's cousin, Curt Winston, told
me. We met through a mutual acquaintance, and I've seen him a few times
since."

"Yes, Violet said you'd lunched together."

He raised an eyebrow. "You've seen Violet? I was under the
impression that the two branches of the family hardly spoke."

"I'm trying to keep out of family squabbles. Violet came
by to see me after we'd returned from our vacation."

"Then you know she's returned to England."

"No, I didn't." Susan experienced a small pang of guilt
because she hadn't followed through with her promise to call Violet
about lunch. But at the same time she was glad that the matter had been
taken out of her hands. "I expect they were getting bored. When did
they go?"

"Violet left yesterday. Curt's still at the hotel in
Bridgetown. He's interested in making some investments in the
Caribbean, and I've promised to advise him. We may become partners in a
small enterprise."

Apparently Curt and Jonathan had seen quite a lot of each
other in recent weeks. It was understandable, of course, that Curt
would seek Jonathan's advice. From what Travis had said, Jonathan was
quite shrewd in business matters. And Curt and Violet did have their
inheritance from their grandfather. Curt probably wanted to put it into
something where the potential for profit was greater than in stocks and
bonds. Perhaps the cousins had more financial sense than Travis gave
them credit for. Certainly they couldn't have picked a better adviser
than Jonathan.