Fiona Hood-Stewart - Savannah Secrets

“You have nerve,” Meredith burst out, finally losing her cool and jumping out of the chair. “If you’d bothered to read all the letters I sent, you’d know about this already—”

“I rarely read my correspondence.”

“Well, that’s just too bad.” She flung out the words, throwing down the file. “Maybe when you’ve come to your senses, you’ll read that through properly.”

“What for?” he goaded her, crossing his arms, looking her arrogantly up and down. “I have no intention of changing my mind. I plan on ignoring the whole thing.”

“Mr. Gallagher,” Meredith said through gritted teeth, “I am not to blame for the manner in which your grandmother chose to bequeath her fortune. I’m merely an emissary. I have no pleasure in being here, I assure you. But I have a fiduciary responsibility to act on behalf of the beneficiary, and a legal duty to act in managing and administering the estate.”

“Bravo. An impressive speech.” He clapped his hands and looked her over, amused. “I guess law school is good for something, after all.”

Mastering the urge to knock those well-aligned teeth down his throat, Meredith took a deep breath. “In case I used too many big words,” she said sweetly, “it means that, like it or not, I now represent your best interest. I need you to cooperate. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m very busy this morning. Goodbye, Miss Hunter.” With a sharp nod he rose, turned on his heel and marched out of the room the same way he’d entered. The door snapped shut behind him, leaving Meredith openmouthed in the middle of the room.

“An enthralling page-turner—not to be missed!”

—New York Times bestselling author

Joan Johnston on Southern Belle

SOUTHERN BELLE

SILENT WISHES

THE LOST DREAMS

THE STOLEN YEARS

THE JOURNEY HOME

SOMEDAY SOON

www.mirabooks.co.uk

To my goddaughter

Annabel Freya

with love

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

“So. This is finally it, Bill?” Rowena Carstairs murmured in her deep, tobacco-riddled voice, her eyes never leaving the doctor’s face.

The gray-haired, athletic-looking Bill Maguire let go of her pulse and straightened next to the large four-poster. “I’m afraid so,” he said, looking at her with a wry, sad smile. He knew it would be futile to pretend.

“That’s all right,” she said, her creased features breaking into a smile that still sparkled with mischief. “I’ve had a good inning. Better than most.”

“You’re sure you won’t consider the treatment? There’s a small chance it would buy you another year or two.”

“Ha! You have to be joking! I’m ninety-three, Bill. If I don’t die of one thing, it’ll be of another. And to tell you the truth, maybe it’s time.”

She lay back in the huge canopied bed and closed her eyes, her head propped against a sea of white lace pillows.

“All right, then. I’d best be off now,” the doctor murmured with a touch of regret, patting her wrinkled, veined hand, as it lay so motionless on the coverlet it could already be lifeless. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“You come,” Rowena said, opening her eyes and winking, “but I don’t guarantee I’ll be here. Depends on how the mood strikes me. So I’ll say goodbye just in case. You’re a good man, Bill. Thanks for everything.”

“Don’t talk rubbish,” he replied, his tone bracing. “You’ll be here harassing the hell out of everyone for a while yet.” He laughed and their hands met once more.

Rowena nodded, then suddenly looking very tired, she waved him away. “You be off now. I need a rest. Tell Miss Mabella to come in, will you? She may have some good advice for the upcoming journey.” She let out a low, husky cackle that ended in a hacking cough.

“Okay.” The doctor smiled and nodded. “Good night, Rowena. Sleep well.”

“You bet I will.”

Once she was sure she was entirely alone, Rowena sagged against the pillows and sighed. So this was the end. She accepted it philosophically as she did most things. Part of her regretted leaving. But, as she’d remarked to Bill, she’d had one hell of a good run. It was time to go. All that increasingly mattered now were the regrets, those niggling mistakes made years ago that couldn’t be changed but might, if things went according to plan, be set on track.

Shifting her position to accommodate her stiff back, Rowena heaved another sigh. She should have listened to her daughter all those years ago. Isabel had tried to tell her the truth, but she hadn’t wanted to believe her child’s claims. Allowing pride and her own agenda to get in the way, she had paid the price.

“Miss Rowena?”

Opening her eyes, she turned her head on the pillow. “Miss Mabella, you sit yourself down on that chair right here next to me.” The formidable figure of Miss Mabella was clad in her usual long white dress under a purple silk cape with rows of beads and amulets hanging loosely around her neck. She swayed as she lowered her bulk onto the proffered chair. The pupils of her eyes shone in sharp contrast to the whites, illuminating her black face. Her complexion looked surprisingly young for a woman her age. On her head she wore an extravagant turban tied in the fashion of the African tribe she descended from and whose language she still favored over the English she spoke only when necessary.

“Time’s a gettin’ close,” she murmured, placing her hand on Rowena’s withered forehead. “But I know you’re ready to go, Miss Rowena. Ain’t nothin’ left you can do on this side no more. Gotta leave it up to the boy now.”

“You’re sure I’ve made the right decision?” Rowena’s eyes closed as she drifted. Already the room and the earthly space around her seemed distant.

“Ain’t no saying for sure. The boy, he’s a son of Ogun, a strong God. Ogun, he likes justice. The gods is on his side, all right. Ain’t no doubt about that.” Miss Mabella nodded wisely.

“God bless him,” Rowena whispered. “He’s my only hope.”

“Now don’t you worry nomore, Miss Ro. You travel easy. I’m watchin’ out for you and yours. Just you let go and let Miss Mabella take care of things.” She placed both her hands inches from Rowena’s head and began a low incantation in her native Gullah dialect.

“You always have been a good friend, Miss Mabella,” Rowena managed with considerable effort. She felt tired. Exceedingly tired. She could sense the end of her earthly journey closing upon her, yet she didn’t repine.

As the sun set over the trees in her beloved garden, Rowena thought one last time of the sealed envelopes lying in wait in Meredith Hunter’s office. She’d cast her bets and had set the dice rolling in an attempt to salvage the situation. She’d set up the rules by which the game would be played as she thought best. The future lay in the hands of others.

A crumpled, enigmatic smile hovered on Rowena’s thin, cracked lips as Miss Mabella chanted softly. She’d be willing to wager that once she was gone, all hell would break loose, big time. Would things sort themselves out as she hoped? It was a wild hope and perhaps a vain one, but it was her best try.