The Scent of Heather Read online

  “Oh, never mind the portrait, David. What is the matter?”

  “Nothing’s the matter,” he said. There was a hesitancy in his voice. “At least I don’t think so.” He took her arm and seated her on the divan before the fireplace. He glanced toward the liquor cabinet that had been moved to the opposite side of the room. “Do you mind if I have a drink?”

  “No, of course not. Help yourself.” She watched him anxiously as he poured a double shot of Scotch into a glass and downed it. “Something is wrong. Where’s Rebecca?” Her hands tightened in her lap.

  “Oh, don’t worry. Rebecca’s fine...just fine.” He poured himself another drink and carried it back to the couch and sat down beside Maggie, rolling the glass back and forth between his hands.

  “I know you must have been worried sick with Rebecca being away all day and night.”

  “It isn’t the first time,” Maggie said. She tried to sound calm and unconcerned, but inside her stomach was fluttering.

  “Well, Rebecca wanted to drive into San Francisco yesterday morning.”

  Maggie’s heart stopped...or seemed to.

  David gave a boyish smile. “You know your sister; she’s hard to say no to.”

  Maggie gave a quick nod and leaned toward him, silently coaxing him to go on, but she was thinking: it had all started in San Francisco once before.

  “Well, you know it isn’t much of a drive, really, and we had a good enough time.”

  “Is she still there?”

  “No, she’s up at my place.” He looked at her. “I think I told you I have a little weekend cabin up in the mountains.”

  Maggie breathed a sigh of relief.

  David hesitated. He rolled the glass between his hands for a second or two, then put it to his lips and emptied it. “She wasn’t feeling too hot so I told her to....”

  “Not feeling well? Is she sick?” She touched his arm.

  “Not sick, exactly.” He gave her a look that needed no further explanation.

  Maggie felt her face flush. “I see,” she said, looking down at her lap.

  “I had some clients I had to see this morning so I couldn’t stay with her.”

  “I understand.”

  David fumbled with the empty glass again. “Mind if I help myself to another? I’ve had quite a day.”

  Maggie shook her head impatiently.

  David got up and went over to the cabinet and splashed more Scotch into his glass. “Rebecca’s quite a girl,” he said. He gave another nervous little laugh. “She has a way about her that makes me feel like a high-school kid again.”

  Maggie sighed. “Yes, Rebecca’s like that.”

  “We did some pretty crazy things...things I never thought I’d ever do.”

  Maggie straightened her back and gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you telling me all this, David? I am very well acquainted with my sister. I know her behavior almost as well as I know my own. She has always been a rather rash and reckless young lady. I have never tried to interfere; I don’t wish to do so now.” She noticed that her hands were trembling ever so slightly.

  “It’s crazy,” David said, draining the glass. “When I’m alone with her I do things I feel I might regret later.”

  “Then you should stay away from her if you believe her to be a bad influence. But really, David, you are a grown man...a man with a good business mind...and having known you only a day or two I would say you were quite capable of being your own master. Rebecca is not some siren trying to lure you onto the rocks.”

  “Oh, please, Maggie. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not putting Rebecca down. On the contrary. I think I’m in love with her.”

  Maggie glanced up at Heather Lambert’s portrait. Rebecca hadn’t disappointed her, she thought. And she’d acted fast...faster than Maggie had expected.

  David cleared his throat. He started to get up for another drink but changed his mind and set the glass aside. “I’m aware that I don’t know very much about Rebecca, but I hinted about our getting married last night.”

  Maggie smiled to herself, knowing Heather Lambert was smiling, too.

  “And what did Rebecca say?”

  “Oh, I didn’t come right out and propose.” He shook his head. “I never thought I’d even want to propose to any girl. But somehow Rebecca got to me.” He looked at Maggie. “I thought I had better talk to you first.”

  Maggie gave him a frosty look. “Are you here to ask my consent?”

  David looked shocked. “No, not at all. To be perfectly blunt, I’m here to try to decide which of you I am more attracted to.”

  Maggie glowered at him. “You are rather loose with your attentions. Do they always stray so easily?” He reached for her hand but she withdrew it and stood up. She wandered over to the window and stood there looking out.

  “Only when two such beautiful women as you come into my life.” He said it easily.

  Maggie walked over to the fireplace and leaned on the mantel. “If you are here to make love to me so that you might compare me with Rebecca, I suggest you leave. You are a very likable man, David, but you are behaving in quite an unbecoming manner.”

  David shook his head and cursed silently to himself. “I don’t understand myself. I swear Rebecca’s put a spell of some kind on me.”

  “I can assure you,” Maggie said haughtily, “my sister is no witch.”

  Again David shook his head. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “You’d be doing me a service, David, if you would drive Rebecca home this evening...that is, if she wishes to come.”

  David studied her for a moment. “You’re as cold as Rebecca says you are, Maggie.”

  “I suppose I am,” she admitted.

  David studied her for a moment, then turned and walked across the room. He mounted the two steps to the foyer. He turned around and started to say something.

  “Please, David,” Maggie cut off whatever he’d been about to say. “Some other time.”

  He shrugged his shoulders, turned and walked out of the house. Maggie waited until the door closed before she let the air out of her lungs.

  “So Rebecca is up to her old tricks again,” she said aloud. She supposed she should warn David but, like Rod, he wouldn’t listen. Why were all men so blind to Rebecca’s wiles? But, if Rebecca was with David, then she might forget completely about Rod...at least for the time being.

  Rod will come looking for her, Maggie told herself. She stood up suddenly. Yes, Rod would come; she was convinced of it, and when he did....

  She smiled. Her plans were working out after all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The night shadows were comforting after a bustling, busy day.

  Maggie was curled up in her favorite spot, on the couch in front of the fireplace of the newly arranged living room; a spot where she had but to glance up to see Heather Lambert keeping her company.

  Her favorite Chopin music was playing softly. A book of poetry lay open in her lap but her eyes were raised from the page, staring at the flickering flames in the fireplace.

  If Rebecca would only go away and leave her in peace, leave her to wait for Rod to come home. He was near; she could feel it. She wanted him so very much.

  She knew, however, that she’d never be able to hold Rod for very long with Rebecca constantly on the scene. He’d never listen if she tried to tell him—as she’d done many times before—that Rebecca was not the kind of woman he would be happy with for the rest of his life.

  There was little doubt in her mind now that Rebecca had started the fire. She doubted, too, that David knew of it. Rebecca had moved the candles while David was somewhere else in the house. He was as innocent as Rod, if blind love could be called innocent. Rebecca was a superb actress and a great manipulator when it came to getting her own way.

  Maggie remembered the so-called hysterics over George’s death, hysterics Rebecca put on for the benefit of friends. She wallowed in their sympathy. Her hysteria, however, was only an excuse to indulge
herself in an unnatural wildness. She had resorted to excesses that made her friends gasp. But poor Rebecca was in deep, deep mourning, they told themselves, and they averted their eyes from her dreadful behavior and tried to overlook it. As time passed, however, Rebecca had forgotten she was supposed to be grieving and the gossip about her began to circulate.

  The headlights of a car flashed across the windows. Maggie straightened up, listening as a car door opened and slammed shut. She heard Rebecca call good night and then the car drove off. A moment later Rebecca walked into the living room.

  “Well, I see you decided to come home,” Maggie said.

  Rebecca didn’t answer. She went to the liquor cabinet and fixed herself a drink. “Want one?”

  Maggie shook her head impatiently.

  Rebecca tilted the glass and downed the liquor. “Ah, I needed that,” she said. She started across the room in the direction of her bedroom.

  “I don’t suppose you intend telling me where you have been,” Maggie said

  “Sure. I didn’t think you were interested.” Rebecca dropped into a chair and looked around the room. “You’ve changed everything around, I see.”

  “Don’t change the subject. Where were you, Rebecca?”

  “With David, of course. We went up to his cabin in the mountains.”

  “You also went to San Francisco, I understand.”

  Rebecca glanced at her. Her eyes narrowed. “How did you know that?”

  “David told me.”

  “David? When did you speak with him?”

  “This afternoon. He came to see me, thinking I might be worried about you.”

  Rebecca looked angry. “He never mentioned it.”

  “You are obviously intent upon destroying yourself again, Rebecca. Well, go ahead, but kindly do not do it here. What you do outside this house is of no concern to me; however, what you do inside Heather House is very much my concern.”

  To her surprise Rebecca laughed. “You and your precious house and your antiquated morals.” She stood up and stretched. “Just don’t get too comfortable in this house, Maggie, my love. You won’t be here very long.”

  “And what, may I ask, does that mean?”

  Rebecca gave her a wide, innocent smile. “Didn’t David tell you? Isn’t that why he really stopped here this afternoon?”

  “Tell me what?” She felt a strange tightening in the pit of her stomach.

  “This old relic,” Rebecca said, waving her arms, “is going to be pulled down around your delicate ears.”

  “What?”

  Rebecca continued to look smug. “Yes. Those men David had to see this morning were from the state highway department. They’re buying up land for the construction of a freeway. Good old Heather House is smack in the middle of its path.”

  “But I intend buying it. I’ll never sell.”

  “It isn’t for sale anymore. The town council has already given it over to the state. You’ll be hearing from them soon, advising you of the change of ownership. Oh, they aren’t going to raze it immediately. Maybe in a couple of months...a year even.”

  Maggie was horror-stricken. “But they can’t do that. This house isn’t Pinebrook’s property to sell. It belongs to the Lamberts.”

  Rebecca shrugged. “Something about eminent domain or something like that. David knew about it all the time but he was anxious for the commission the town paid him when he leased it. He got his commission check yesterday and today he brought in the men from the state.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “Well, believe it or not, it is the truth.”

  Maggie took a deep breath I and stiffened her back. “I won’t permit it. They won’t get away with it. This is my house.”

  “Your house? Are you mad? You’re just a tenant.”

  “I have a lease.”

  “We have a lease, remember? The state can buy back the lease and I as joint tenant can sell it to them.”

  “Over my dead body!”

  Rebecca merely shrugged her shoulders. “Have it your own way,” she said and turned and walked out of the room.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  As she dressed the next morning, Maggie went over her plan she had formulated.

  First she would have to manipulate Rebecca into running off with David...for good. Then she’d wait until Rod showed up looking for Rebecca. She had no fear for her life insofar as Rod was concerned. She could manage him easily enough. Rebecca wouldn’t make any more attempts on Maggie’s life now that she had David. Of course, if Rebecca decided she needed Maggie’s insurance money, her life was still in danger. So she would have to get Rebecca away, and immediately. She knew exactly how she would handle Rebecca.

  Rebecca was sitting out in the patio sipping coffee when Maggie came downstairs. Her sister looked up over the rim of her cup. She smiled. “Good grief, Maggie, you look worse than I feel.”

  “I didn’t sleep too well,” Maggie said.

  “Here, this might help,” Rebecca said as she poured her sister a cup of coffee and handed it across the table. “It’s doing wonders for me.”

  Maggie rubbed the back of her neck. “You could have let me know you would be gone overnight.”

  “I didn’t expect to be gone that long.”

  Maggie scowled at Rebecca. “I suppose you are up to your old tricks again.”

  “What old tricks?” Rebecca looked at her with wide, innocent eyes.

  “If you are,” Maggie said, ignoring Rebecca’s question, “I wholeheartedly suggest you leave David McCloud out of them. I don’t think he felt too comfortable with your little tour of San Francisco.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “David told me he was a little concerned about you. He thinks he’d prefer a woman with a little more maturity...like me. He told me as much when he stopped by yesterday.”

  “You keep your hands off David,” Rebecca said in an angry whisper.

  Maggie merely grinned. “You have it wrong, dear. It seems to be the other way around. You’d better tell David to keep his hands off me, if you’re interested in him.”

  “David doesn’t want you. You’re too old for him.”

  “All men have a mother complex, didn’t you know that?”

  “I’m warning you, Maggie. Lay off.”

  “That I can’t promise. David is a very handsome man. I know he’s interested in me and I might just see if I can get him.”

  “I’ll not tell you again, Maggie. David is mine.”

  “Then I suggest you better tell him not to come to the house anymore. I might find I couldn’t trust myself,” she said glibly as she sipped her coffee. “Remember how you dallied with Rod. He wound up falling in love with me simply because you couldn’t make up your mind.”

  They heard a car pull into the driveway and honk its horn.

  “Is that David?” Maggie asked, getting out of her chair. “I’ll go let him in.”

  “No.” Rebecca flung back her chair and almost ran into the house.

  Maggie merely smiled and settled herself in the chair, sipping her coffee. Poor, predictable Rebecca, it was so easy to manage her.

  When she heard the car drive off, Maggie got out of her chair and went up the stairs, toward the room at the top of the tower. She seated herself at the window. She’d wait for Rod.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The wind had come up strong and blustery, bending trees, pelting the house from all sides with dust and leaves and loosened debris, a strange, almost unearthly gale that seemed to blow from all four directions at once. It moaned low in its throat, like a threatening beast. Maggie could feel the force of it trying to get in at her. The walls fought back against the lashing winds, holding her safe inside her refuge.

  She sat, curled up on the divan before the fire, looking down at the book she held in her hand. She’d found it on a table in the tower room. It was large and squarish and heavy, bound in dark Moroccan leather with gold tooling. There was no printing on the cover
or spine, just an initial “H.”

  She flipped open the pages. They were covered with the graceful scrawl of a woman’s handwriting.

  “Louis left today,” she read. “I’m not going to let myself be too unduly concerned. He loves me, I’m sure. He will be back. I will sit and wait for him if it takes forever.”

  Maggie flipped to the fly leaf, “HEATHER LAMBERT” was written there.

  She went to the last entry in the diary.

  “Edwina is to be married. I’m glad she will be living here no longer. Now I can wait in peace for Louis to come back to me.”

  How so like herself, Maggie thought as she put the book aside. Here she sat waiting for a husband who had disappeared, presumably dead although she knew differently. She had gotten Rebecca out of the house and, like Heather Lambert, could now wait in peace for Rod to come back.

  Maggie got up and switched the stereo on. The familiar strains of the Chopin nocturne drifted through the room. She settled herself on the couch again, intending to let herself melt into the music, but her mind wandered....

  She remembered when she was only nine years old and her father and mother doted on her. She had been their favorite then because they had no other children. She almost wished now that she was that little girl again; she wanted to be loved and pampered and cherished.

  When Rebecca was born, everything changed. Maggie was made to share and Rebecca broke the windows of the playhouse and pulled the limbs off her favorite dolls. Maggie had cried, but her father reminded her that Rebecca was only a tiny child and what did it matter about favorite dolls or broken windows or broken furniture. Rebecca was just a baby and Maggie was growing up and grown-ups were expected to tolerate the irresponsible actions of a baby sister. So Maggie tolerated Rebecca, but deep down inside she hated the spoiled little girl who was almost ten years younger than herself.

  Yes, she hated her. It surprised her to admit it now without feeling guilty. But it was true. She hated Rebecca; she’d always hated her.

  At first it was mere sibling jealousy, but that jealousy festered. In school Maggie had had no time for boyfriends and dating because Rebecca had to be looked after. And when Rebecca was old enough for boyfriends Maggie found she was too busy trying to keep Rebecca on an even keel to have time for her own male friends and admirers. Their parents fell ill just about then and Maggie worked to provide for them, and made sure Rebecca didn’t become too wild.