Рита Браун - Probable Claws

“I never tire of gazing at them.” They turned to go back to their respective homes.

“Has Charles heard more from his brother?”

“All dismal.” Rachel grimaced.

“I have an idea. You will need to broach it with him.”

Rachel, knowing her sister well, held up her hands, palms upward. “Catherine?”

“Just listen. If Hugh becomes bankrupt he will be ruined in more ways than one. No heiress will marry him now. Think what will happen if he loses everything? By the way, is he good-looking?”

“I asked Charles that. He said it’s hard to judge one’s own brother, plus women look at men differently than men do. So I asked, ‘Do you all resemble each other?’ To that he answered ‘Yes.’ He can’t be all that bad-looking.”

“No. You must convince your husband to convince Hugh to adopt Jeffrey Holloway.”

“Catherine, you can’t be serious.”

“Hear me out. Maureen, after I talk to her, which means after Hugh agrees, will bail him out plus give him a monthly allowance. Jeffrey will visit once a year but stay here. However, he will be the son of a baron.”

“How do you know or even think that Jeffrey will outlive Hugh? They aren’t that far apart in age.”

“Doesn’t matter. He is the heir.”

“I don’t think Jeffrey wants any of this.” Rachel’s lower lip protruded slightly.

“He doesn’t. He is a sensible man in many ways, but she wants it. She can’t stand the fact that people think she married a nobody. A handsome nobody, but still. He could at least come from a Tidewater family.”

Rachel weighed this. “Well…yes, but it is absurd.”

“Nothing is absurd if she gets her way.”

“Catherine, how rich do you think Maureen is?”

“Millions. She is one of the richest people in our country, certainly in the Caribbean. All we know of is the money her father made honestly. God knows where she’s got the rest of it stashed. She learned from her father. She told me as much and she, like a smart dog, buries her bone. In fact, I would not be surprised if Maureen isn’t playing politics quietly. Slipping people money, you know, like Alexander Hamilton. She wouldn’t give Jefferson a penny. She believes he spends what he doesn’t have and knows nothing about money. As she once said, ‘He lives in the clouds.’ ”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Rachel, we don’t want to know.”

Rachel looked into her sister’s intense light eyes. “Why would you do this?”

“First, I would do it for Charles. He’s distressed.”

“He is,” Rachel admitted.

“Secondly, Maureen will owe us.”

“You’re going to charge her?” Rachel was aghast.

“No. Consider this, Sister. If France goes to hell we lose a great deal of money. Father has spread the risk. We aren’t going to be in Hugh’s position thanks to father’s business acumen, but we may well be in tightened circumstances. If need be, Maureen will be our banker.”

Stunned, Rachel stopped in her tracks. “Dear God.”

“God doesn’t care about our finances. Listen to me. Our beloved father will not live forever. For decades I hope and pray, but someday you and I must carry this estate.”

“We have our husbands.”

“Neither one of our husbands is a businessman. My husband is a war hero. He commands great respect and I respect him, but he comes from poor farmers in Massachusetts. He knows nothing about money, how it moves, what it truly buys, which is power. Your husband knows a bit more but he is an artist, an architect. He would have to walk away from what he has learned to love and learn a new business. He’d be an innocent among rapacious, greedy men. Not every businessman is without conscience but many are. After all, our father takes care of his people, is unfailingly generous, backed the colonials during the war. But our father is an extraordinary man. We must run this place when that sad day comes.”

“Catherine, I know nothing. You’re the one. You’ve inherited our father’s brain. Plus you work with him.”

“I may be the one but both of us must work through our husbands. I don’t think John will balk, and I do know the shrewd men among us know he is no businessman, but they can’t cross him nor try to make a fool of him. I will destroy them.”

“Catherine.”

“Sister, it’s kill or be killed.”

Rachel remained silent for a long time. “What is it that I must do?”

“What our mother did. Be beautiful. Be sweet. Host wonderful parties and soirees. Invite everyone. Look up into the eyes of the gentlemen who visit. Be adoring of their achievements. Men like you. You are exactly what they want a woman to be.”

“Well, you’re far more beautiful than I am.”

“No, I am not, plus I struggle to flatter their vapid egos. I do it but you are an angel. Men adore you. Children adore you. Even other women adore you.”

“Now, now, you’re laying it on thick.” Rachel put her arm around her sister’s waist.

“It’s the truth. And the truth is I am somewhat dazzling. Men fall over when they see me but I frighten them. You draw them. And Charles is a wonderful husband. You work well together. His manners are Old World, aristocratic, and he is a kind man, a very kind man, as is my John. I worry about both of them. They lead with their hearts.”

Rachel sighed, pulled her sister with her as they walked down to Ruth’s cabin, where the children stayed many days, playing with one another. “They do.”

Catherine smiled. “Some days I fear I may need to guard against them as well as rivals. It is possible to be too good, you know.” She laughed.

“What is it really that you want me to do?”

“Listen to me. We can argue. We are sisters after all, but when it comes to business, to profit and to power, listen to me.”

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you were father’s son instead of his elder daughter?”

Catherine threw back her head and laughed. “I’d be in more duels than the men around us. Thank the Lord I am a woman. And truthfully, Rachel, it’s so easy to work through men. Takes a bit of time but it is so easy.”

Rachel smiled. “We had a mother who taught us well.”

“Walking through her gardens, which you keep so beautifully, I miss her. If only she could see her grandchildren. If only she could see Father and he her. I don’t know as any love is perfect but theirs came close.”

Rachel, voice low, said, “I don’t understand love. I try but I don’t. But I feel it.”

“Yes, I do, too. I just don’t talk about it.”

30

February 1, 2017

Wednesday

“Another month if there are no more delays.” Sean spoke to Tony as both men observed the work site now that Rankin Construction could resume operations.

“Overtime?” Tony asked his boss.

“No other way.”

The foreman folded his arms over his chest, his flannel-lined overall helping to keep him warm in the February cold. “You’ll have to hire more men. These guys aren’t going to work around the clock. They’ll pull some overtime but not a solid month.”

“I know. Fortunately, when we create a budget we try to factor in these things. I’m not worried…yet.” Sean grimaced. “Damnest thing finding Elkins.”

“You know what I remember? He was a whiner. ’ Course I wasn’t a foreman then. He was above me but nonstop bitching and moaning. I couldn’t stand the guy.”

Sean half smiled. “Obviously someone else couldn’t either.” He looked skyward, and it was getting darker at midday. “Well, it was a long time ago. We were both wet behind the ears. Dad made me work from the ground up, literally. Best thing he ever did. What I do remember is less the whining because Elkins was smart enough not to look like a candyass in front of the boss’s son. I remember he’d make trips to the library, books. Lots of books on Richmond, throughout history, this area. The falls, anyway, books on what it was like. Williamsburg men used to send their recalcitrant slaves here. Pretty rough, I guess.”