Secret Whispers Read online

  He leaned forward.

  “I won’t say I was any real help to you during your own difficult period, Semantha. You needed the wisdom of a mature woman, and with your mother gone and no one close enough to us to trust, you had to sink or swim on your own. Oh, I got you all the medical and psychological attention I could and sent you to the best private high school I could find, but it would have been much better for you if there had been someone here who could have understood things from a female viewpoint. Well, now there is.” He slapped his palms down on his knees and stood. “I don’t know about you, but I’m very tired, and tomorrow’s another big day. We’re going through some major changes in the Lexington store.”

  He crossed to me and reached for my hand. I stood up, and he hugged me and kissed my cheek.

  “Welcome home, Semantha. I hope your life is much, much better in the days, weeks, months, and years to come.”

  With that, he turned and walked out of the den. I stood there a moment and then sat.

  “Did you ever hear such a crock of crap about any woman?” Cassie muttered. I shook my head. I could feel her standing beside me, looking toward the doorway. “That man has changed. He would never sugarcoat anything. He wasn’t afraid of the truth and would certainly never invent lies to make himself happy. Our ancestors must be squirming in their graves, their bones rattling. I know mine are. That woman must be a witch to have put such a spell on him so quickly. And what about that business with how organized she is? If she ordered the wedding invitations already, she shouldn’t have been surprised by the engagement ring. The whole thing was an act.”

  Yes, I thought, Daddy had changed, and the engagement ring and the announcement did feel like an act put on for my benefit.

  “Of course it was. You certainly can’t trust or like Lucille Bennet. She gave me a bad feeling, a cold feeling, the moment she appeared. I could see it in her eyes when she looked at you. She knows you’re the only thing between her and Daddy, the only person who could in any way get him to deny her something.

  “I bet if you investigated, you’d find out she somehow was responsible for her husband’s heart attack. She’s bad for you, Semantha, and she’ll be very bad for Daddy. It’s up to you to stop her. Stop her!”

  How was I supposed to do that? I’m not you, Cassie, I thought. I’m not going to put sleeping powder into her drink. I rose and started out.

  “You heard him. Mother did it to herself. I was just being cooperative. You heard him!”

  Yeah, right, I thought. Now who’s sugarcoating?

  I walked away quickly and hurried up the stairs, chased by Cassie’s laughter. Finally, I was exhausted. It had been my high school graduation day, but I had suffered some very serious disappointments. Ethan was obviously gone from my life, and my father was becoming someone else’s husband.

  Welcome home, I thought. Welcome back to the demons.

  I wasn’t in my bed two minutes before I fell into a deep sleep. I tossed and turned with a mixture of images and memories, sometimes seeing Cassie on that stairway and sometimes seeing Lucille Bennet. I’m sure I groaned and moaned in my sleep, but I didn’t wake until I heard a knock on my door. I rubbed my eyes to drive away the distorted visions and sat up. There was a second, louder knock.

  “Yes?”

  Lucille opened the door and stepped in, smiling. She was in a beautiful emerald-green silk robe and had her hair swept back. What, did she sleep with her makeup on? She continued across the room and pulled the curtains apart on the window to my left to let in the bright sunshine.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “Plenty,” she said with a short laugh. “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood. You don’t want to miss a minute of it.”

  She opened the curtains on the second window and turned back to me.

  “I told your father you would sleep late this morning. He was hoping we’d all have breakfast together, but he’s gone off to work. He couldn’t wait any longer. I promised him I would look in on you after another hour or so. How are you feeling after having such a big day?”

  Confused and disappointed, I wanted to say, but I said, “I don’t know. Exhausted, I suppose.”

  “Of course you are. I’ve asked Mrs. Dobson to prepare your breakfast and bring it up to you. She said she knew exactly what to make you, what was your favorite breakfast. We should spoil you for a little while. You deserve it. You had some very nice grades and must have worked hard, harder than most of those girls from what I saw of them, I’m sure.”

  “I didn’t do anything special. I didn’t win any awards.”

  “Nowadays, from what I can see of young people, graduating with decent grades or graduating at all is truly an accomplishment.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t eager to accept her compliments. Compliments from someone put you in debt to them. That was something Cassie had taught me, and it had stuck. I didn’t want to be in debt to Lucille, not in any way, but she wasn’t easy to refuse. She gazed at me a moment with that studied look, narrowing her eyes and then relaxing her lips, almost smiling.

  “From what I understand, you didn’t really have much of a social life at school, at least until the final weeks. You didn’t belong to any club or team?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t you do any sort of extracurricular activity at all? That’s the best way to make friends.”

  “Nothing interested me enough.”

  She nodded and sat on my bed. “I know your problem, Semantha. You simply won’t let yourself enjoy anything. You feel guilty when you do, correct? You think because your mother died so young and tragically and your sister . . . your sister did the things she did and died so harshly, it’s wrong for you to be happy.”

  She reached for my hand. I wanted to pull it back, but it was as if Daddy were in the room, too, watching, studying my reactions.

  “I know how difficult it must be for you to forget all that. Maybe it’s impossible to really forget, but what I do with bad memories is pile on good memories, deliberately do things to please myself, to create happy times, and after a while, the weight of all that drives the bad memories farther and farther down until they don’t come back at you so often, and even when they do, they’re easy to push away. Doesn’t that sound like a good plan?”

  “I suppose, but I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Of course you can.” She patted my hand. “Now, tell me about this young man who didn’t show up for your graduation. I could see at lunch that you didn’t want to say much about him. You gave such vague answers. But from what you had told your father, it sounded like you were developing a nice relationship.”

  Daddy had told her that? What hadn’t he told her other than what he wanted me never to tell her about Cassie and Mother? He was already sharing my private life with her, even before he had become engaged. It angered and disappointed me, but what was I to do about it now?

  “We were going out for a while, yes,” I said.

  “Well, tell me more details about him. You said his name was Ethan?”

  “Ethan Hunter. I did tell you he’s graduating from SUNY Albany, and he was interested in business.”

  “Is he enrolled in a graduate school? Which one?”

  “No, he’s not. He plans to spend this year actually in the working world. Why do you want to know so much about him, anyway?”

  She smiled. “When it comes to men, I have good instincts. That’s evident by the fact that I’m with your father. So, tell me, really. What sort of a young man is Ethan? I don’t mean tell me about his grades. Think about your impressions of him as a person. Draw a picture of him for me so I can visualize him.”

  “It’s no longer important.”

  “Humor me,” she said. “Please.”

  “He’s very intelligent, ambitious, and mature,” I said quickly. I described his physical features and added that he had a very nice smile.

  “And his family? You didn’t say that much about them at lunch.”
/>
  “I told you his father is an accountant. I don’t know how rich they are,” I said, now letting some Cassie bitterness into my voice.

  “Oh, I’m not impressed by people with money, Semantha. As you can imagine, because of my father’s position in the bank, we have always known wealthy people. In my view, money often makes potentially interesting people boring.”

  “Really? Money does that? Why?” I asked, surprised.

  “They get too comfortable, rarely do spontaneous, interesting things. All sorts of advisers manage their lives. I know people who don’t even know their own net worth. They leave it up to some hired hand to decide if they can buy this or that, and often when they want something, they get talked out of it because it isn’t as financially wise as something they don’t want as much. For some people, money is freedom, but for most, as far as I can tell, it’s another form of imprisonment.

  “So, getting back to my question, I wouldn’t judge your boyfriend one way or another based on his family’s income. Money doesn’t make your character, but your character can help you make money. That is, if you’re sincere and trustworthy. Is your boyfriend sincere and trustworthy?”

  “I guess he’s not really my boyfriend,” I said. “I mean, we never said we wouldn’t see anyone else, and no promises were made for the future.”

  “And most of all, he didn’t show up for your graduation, which I know was very upsetting for you,” she added, nodding in sympathy. “Do you have any idea why not? He hasn’t called since?”

  I had an idea, but I wouldn’t tell her. That was for sure. I had the feeling, though, that she saw it in my face.

  “No, he hasn’t called.”

  “Well, whatever. I just wanted to assure you that one disappointment in love has nothing to do with what might come later and also to assure you, without even knowing any more, that it’s not something for which you should blame yourself, no matter what. My goodness, look at you. You’re a bright, beautiful, healthy young lady from a historic family that is the envy of everyone.”

  She patted my hand again and stood.

  “The worst thing to do is wallow in disappointment, and I have just the solution to prevent that.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like it very much, Semantha, if you would participate wholeheartedly in your father’s and my wedding plans. I have a great deal to arrange—music, menu, flowers, dresses for the bridesmaids, the first of whom I hope you’ll be. I’d like your opinion about it all, so I’d like you to accompany me to the various venues. Starting today.”

  “Today? What about your mother?” I asked.

  “What about her?”

  “Won’t she be participating?”

  “My mother passed away nearly five years ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I have no sisters. So, you see, it’s just the two of us women now. I really do hope we can become close, and there’s no better opportunity for us to do so than planning my wedding, don’t you agree?” she asked with a wide, warm smile.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Good.”

  Mrs. Dobson came in with my breakfast tray.

  “I could have gone down for breakfast,” I said, more for Mrs. Dobson than for Lucille.

  “I told you we’re spoiling you a little. Let us do it,” Lucille said. “You agree, don’t you, Mrs. Dobson?”

  “Miss Semantha’s not an easy young lady to spoil, ma’am. She’s always thinking of others,” she replied without looking at her. She set the tray on my bed table and moved it over to me.

  “Yes, well, that’s the sort of person we want to spoil, then,” Lucille insisted. “Why don’t we plan on leaving in two hours?” she told me. “I have an appointment at my dressmaker’s to confirm my gown and review the gowns for the bridesmaids. There will be three others besides you. One of my best friends from college, in fact, is flying in from Monaco. Claire Dubonnet. She works for the prince.”

  I saw how Mrs. Dobson was studying me for my reaction.

  “Can I count on you, then?” Lucille pursued when I didn’t respond.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Excellent. And as you can now see, it’s a beautiful day, a wonderful day for a new beginning for us both, Semantha. Once again, welcome home,” she said, and walked out.

  “I made those scrambled eggs just like you like them, Miss Semantha, with the cheese.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Dobson. Did you know my father was intending to marry Mrs. Bennet?”

  “The birds were chattering about it, yes,” she said.

  “Were they happy or sad?”

  She just looked at me and started out, pausing at the door. “Call me if you need anything else, Miss Semantha.”

  I started on my breakfast.

  “Why were you so nice to her?” Cassie asked.

  “I have no choice. I don’t want to upset Daddy. Maybe . . . maybe she isn’t that bad. She sounded like she was really interested in me, and I liked what she said about rich people.”

  “You always have been stupid when it comes to seeing people for who and what they are,” Cassie muttered. “Whether it was those idiots in public school or Ellie or Ethan. Don’t you see? She’s using Daddy’s happiness as her shield and her armor. As soon as they’re married, she’ll set out to destroy you.”

  “No,” I said.

  “Yes,” she insisted.

  “No!” I screamed, loudly enough to blow her out of my mind. I thought my cry would bring someone to my room, but apparently no one had heard me. I was no longer hungry but continued to eat what I could so Mrs. Dobson wouldn’t wonder why I had lost my appetite.

  After all, the last thing I wanted anyone to know was how much Cassie spoke to me from beyond the grave.

  And how much that upset me.

  Wedding Plans

  LUCILLE HAD DADDY’S limousine and driver at her disposal. When we got in, she handed me a catalogue of wedding cakes.

  “I’d like your opinion on them,” she said. “It has to be a rather big cake. We’ve decided to pare down the guest list to eighteen hundred. Of course, we could invite many more, but we want these eighteen hundred to feel special on our special day.”

  “Eighteen hundred people?”

  “Yes,” she said, laughing. “I suppose that sounds rather large, but this is a huge property, and your father and my father have made so many important acquaintances over the years, it would be difficult to invite fewer. Notice I said acquaintances, not friends,” she added. “That’s something I want you to digest for a moment, the difference between a friend and an acquaintance.”

  Although she was acting like a teacher, I didn’t feel she was being condescending.

  “A real friend,” she continued, “is even more important than a relative. Relatives are too often envious of each other and easily persuaded to believe that this one or that one was handed everything on a silver platter, especially siblings who are always feeling their parents favored the others.”

  That was Ellie, I thought, and when it came to Daddy and Cassie, I had certainly used to believe that. Lucille was right. Maybe I should listen to some of what she said.

  “Now, a real friend, who is so rare, is someone who is genuinely, sincerely happy for you when good fortune occurs. She or he doesn’t resent it or feel more envy than happiness. A real friend is selfless when it comes to doing things for you, especially at your time of need, and if you’re a good friend, you’ll do the same for him or her. Have you any real friends, Semantha?”

  “Not like that,” I admitted.

  “Precisely. I have only three, maybe four, I’d consider real friends out of all of the acquaintances I’ve made over the years, and as you can see, that’s a lot. With real friends, time and distance don’t matter. We never stop being true to each other. I hope someday you’ll have some real friends, too, even if it’s no more than I have.

  “Of course,” she continued, “no one can be more of a friend to you than your husband, as you are to
him. Your father and I became real friends, in fact, before we became lovers. Did you feel this was possible eventually with this boy you were seeing, this Ethan?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “We really didn’t see each other that long, Lucille.”

  “Still, you might reserve your judgment about him until you find out what his reason was for not attending your graduation and meeting us. We’ll see.”

  Why was this so important to her?

  “How?”

  “Time will tell,” she said.

  “What if I never see or hear from him again?”

  “Well . . . then time told, didn’t it?” she said with a grin. “Now, look at those designs for wedding cakes. I’m anxious to see what strikes your fancy.”

  I gazed at the book. There were multitiered cakes with all sorts of flower decorations. The traditional cakes were round, but there were also hexagon- and octagon-shaped cakes. The variety was dazzling. I had no idea how any bride would go about choosing, until I saw a design that resembled the cake in Mother and Daddy’s wedding photographs. It was shaped like a richly wrapped present with the silhouettes of the bride and groom airbrushed.

  “You like that one?” she asked, seeing me spend so much time gazing at it.

  “Don’t dare recommend the cake that our parents had at their wedding,” Cassie warned.

  I shrugged and turned the page.

  There was a huge hexagonal cake with a jade topper of an angel. At the bottom of the page was an estimate of one hundred dollars per serving. I started to turn the page.

  “That’s my favorite,” she said.

  I quickly did the multiplication.

  “That’s one hundred eighty thousand dollars for just the cake,” I said.

  She laughed. “Well, one thing I never expected to hear from you was a comment on the cost of anything. Bravo. That shows you do have a bit of a head for business, but your father and I intend to be married only this one time more, Semantha. It’s a wedding for a lifetime,” she said. She pointed to the cake. “What I was thinking of doing is having the Heaven-stone Store emblem on top of this cake in jade like that or maybe silver. The Heaven-stone Stores are so much of who your father is, and I will be so much of who he is now, too. When you marry someone, you marry all of him, all that is important to him. What do you think?” she asked, nodding at the cake. “Should I have that one made for us?”