Read Online By The Sea, Book Four: The Heirs by Antoinette Stockenberg - Free Book Online Page B

hand. "Yes?"
    "What will happen to Shadow ? Will you
sell it?"
    "I honestly haven't got that far," Seton
admitted. "Obviously Shadow will be withdrawn from the
competition. But whether she'll be stored until the next time, or
be sold ... I don't know," he said tiredly.
    "Mr. Seton," a girl reporter whose pretty
face was bursting with teeth asked, "the talk is that your wife
resisted your all-out effort to defend the Cup. Do you see an irony
in the fact that now, at least, she's got her way?"
    "No."
    "Sir," came a twangy New England voice, "I
write for the Marblehead Sentinel. I'm not a sportswriter,
but I am keen on the sport. Now it seems t' me that comin' from
English gentry as I understand you do, you can't have the same spirit behind your effort, the same sense of patriotism, if
you don't mind my sayin' so, that might carry you over the rough
spots such as now. Or do you see it different?" he asked
amiably.
    It would be hard to take offense at the New
Englander, so typical in his distrust of things English. No doubt
his ancestors had helped dump the tea into Boston Harbor. Seton
smiled and said, "I think my credentials are pretty good, as a
matter of fact. My grandfather, right off the boat from England,
fell in love with a beautiful American and a beautiful country. He
married her, ran a shipyard on the Connecticut shore, took over
another one here in Newport for a while, had children, and put down
roots. For decades he supported the America's Cup Races—and he
didn't root for Sir Thomas Lipton and England even when a lot of
Americans were doing it," Seton added with a grin. "Good
enough?"
    "Well, sir, it'll have to do." Clearly the
New Englander thought the jury was still out on Alan's
patriotism.
    "Alan, Alan ... thank you. Around the
waterfront, naturally, people are saying that you're afraid to
continue taking on the formidable Dennis Conner head to head in the
July Trials. Would you care to comment?"
    A slow, ironic smile flickered over Seton's
handsome face, and he answered blandly, "Dennis, Tom, John—they all scare the hell out of me." He let the laughter linger
and then he said, "The Preliminary Trials in June are traditionally
a period of shaking down between contenders. They're not only
inconclusive, but maybe, well, just maybe all the cards aren't on
the table yet. New sails, shifting the ballast around, possibly
just getting braver and going for the throat at the starting
line—any one of those can be a factor. It's early days yet;
everyone has a chance to look formidable come August."
    Mavis thought he was looking more relaxed,
more comfortable. But it didn't last.
    "Mr. Seton, getting back to the question of
finances," a reporter began in a friendly, confidential voice,
"it's no secret, of course, that your wife came from a wealthy
family—"
    "My wife's money is held in trust and has
nothing to do with me," Seton answered abruptly, anticipating the
rest of the question.
    Mavis recognized the slimy little worm who
posed the next query; he wrote for the yellowest journal of all.
Iggy, as he was appropriately named, had pursued Mavis relentlessly
through the first years of her marriage, reasoning that when a
twenty-six-year-old heiress of great wealth marries a
fifty-nine-year-old entrepreneur of even greater wealth, there must
be lewd play somewhere. Unfortunately for him, Mavis never
wandered—never even thought of straying—from her obstinate but
interesting husband, and contented marriages make dull copy.
    Iggy, who knew absolutely nothing about
sailing but everything about Cindy's set, said in an insinuating,
district attorney voice, "Isn't it a fact that in the
handbag Mrs. Seton left behind there were found an impressive
variety of uppers—just about every imaginable amphetamine, in fact?
Wasn't there also a vial of white powder? Is there any reason for
us to believe that these drugs were available exclusively to Mrs.
Seton?"
    Don't answer him, Mavis pleaded
silently. It was a variation of the