road to speak of.'
'That's right,' said Father. Father had control of the gas company. 'And there won't be any, either, as long as Brad owns that mountain.'
Eyebrows went up. Ah, so this was the message Father wanted to send out! People could go up to Legacy and drink Brad's champagne if they wanted to, but if they bought any of his mountain lots and expected to build on them, they'd be wasting their money.
'Well, I wasn't interested in any land up there, anyway,' said Mrs. Anderson. 'But I thought we might just go up and see the party for a while. I always did like a ball.'
'You won't see me there,' Father said abruptly, 'or any of my family. Isn't that right, Claire?'
I waited to see if Mother would go along with this commanded display of obedience, though I really had not much doubt that she would. What I worried about was my own response. I had vowed to stand up to Father, but I did owe it to Mother not to make a scene.
'Oh, I see enough New York orchestras when I go to New York,' said Mother. 'I can't say that finding one in Brad's ballroom would be any great attraction.'
'Catherine?' I could feel the tension in Father's voice.
I spoke to the others at the table instead of to him. 'I'm sure you all can see that we make up our own minds in our family,' I said briskly. 'I just haven't made mine up yet.'
'Well, you'd better. No one in my family is going to that affair - no one.' His color had deepened, and he was staring directly down the table at me, as if the others in the room did not exist. For a long moment we faced one another. I could feel my own temper rising. My mind raced. I wanted to hurt, to humiliate, him. How dare he bait me publicly like this! I wanted to smash that determined glare from his face, to hurl my glass of wine full in his eyes!
But, no, I thought. Imagine the way tongues would wag about Catherine Rawlings and her passionate outburst at the table! Poor Catherine, she must be head over heels in love with that Steven Graybar! She just lost her head completely as soon as her father wouldn't let her see him at Brad's ball!
I could just hear Amanda Scott spreading the word now, a satisfied tone of pity in her voice. Poor Catherine! Poor Sam, with a daughter who's just out of control like that!
Well, I was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose my temper. Certain now that I could contain my fury, I raised my glass and addressed the guests again. 'Why don't we all drink to that, then? Father's wish is his family's command!'
'Hear, hear,' said the judge, and some of the people raised their wineglasses and drank, not sure of what else to do. Father, of course, did not touch his wine. He sat silent, and for a moment he looked as if he could have broken me in half.
But then he began to talk to the lady on his right as if nothing had happened.
Chapter Three
I still felt the glow of triumph late that night as I slowly opened the door of my bedroom and looked out into the hallway. The whole house was silent. It had been two hours since the last guest had departed and only a few minutes less than that since Father had given me another curt warning to tell me that he meant what he said. I had checked my temper then, too, and felt proud of myself for doing so. Then I had come up to my room, but instead of getting undressed for bed, I had changed into another riding costume, this one with a hooded jacket, leaving my hair pinned up.
Now the thick red wool of the hall carpet deadened the sound of my boots as I stepped outside my room and locked the door behind me. I came down the carpeted stairs, with their glistening walnut newel posts casting shadows in the gaslight of the hall, past the second floor, where my parents slept and where Father had his library, and down through the dining room and quietly out the French doors and into the night sounds and cool air of the garden.
I had done it! My heart
'That's right,' said Father. Father had control of the gas company. 'And there won't be any, either, as long as Brad owns that mountain.'
Eyebrows went up. Ah, so this was the message Father wanted to send out! People could go up to Legacy and drink Brad's champagne if they wanted to, but if they bought any of his mountain lots and expected to build on them, they'd be wasting their money.
'Well, I wasn't interested in any land up there, anyway,' said Mrs. Anderson. 'But I thought we might just go up and see the party for a while. I always did like a ball.'
'You won't see me there,' Father said abruptly, 'or any of my family. Isn't that right, Claire?'
I waited to see if Mother would go along with this commanded display of obedience, though I really had not much doubt that she would. What I worried about was my own response. I had vowed to stand up to Father, but I did owe it to Mother not to make a scene.
'Oh, I see enough New York orchestras when I go to New York,' said Mother. 'I can't say that finding one in Brad's ballroom would be any great attraction.'
'Catherine?' I could feel the tension in Father's voice.
I spoke to the others at the table instead of to him. 'I'm sure you all can see that we make up our own minds in our family,' I said briskly. 'I just haven't made mine up yet.'
'Well, you'd better. No one in my family is going to that affair - no one.' His color had deepened, and he was staring directly down the table at me, as if the others in the room did not exist. For a long moment we faced one another. I could feel my own temper rising. My mind raced. I wanted to hurt, to humiliate, him. How dare he bait me publicly like this! I wanted to smash that determined glare from his face, to hurl my glass of wine full in his eyes!
But, no, I thought. Imagine the way tongues would wag about Catherine Rawlings and her passionate outburst at the table! Poor Catherine, she must be head over heels in love with that Steven Graybar! She just lost her head completely as soon as her father wouldn't let her see him at Brad's ball!
I could just hear Amanda Scott spreading the word now, a satisfied tone of pity in her voice. Poor Catherine! Poor Sam, with a daughter who's just out of control like that!
Well, I was not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose my temper. Certain now that I could contain my fury, I raised my glass and addressed the guests again. 'Why don't we all drink to that, then? Father's wish is his family's command!'
'Hear, hear,' said the judge, and some of the people raised their wineglasses and drank, not sure of what else to do. Father, of course, did not touch his wine. He sat silent, and for a moment he looked as if he could have broken me in half.
But then he began to talk to the lady on his right as if nothing had happened.
Chapter Three
I still felt the glow of triumph late that night as I slowly opened the door of my bedroom and looked out into the hallway. The whole house was silent. It had been two hours since the last guest had departed and only a few minutes less than that since Father had given me another curt warning to tell me that he meant what he said. I had checked my temper then, too, and felt proud of myself for doing so. Then I had come up to my room, but instead of getting undressed for bed, I had changed into another riding costume, this one with a hooded jacket, leaving my hair pinned up.
Now the thick red wool of the hall carpet deadened the sound of my boots as I stepped outside my room and locked the door behind me. I came down the carpeted stairs, with their glistening walnut newel posts casting shadows in the gaslight of the hall, past the second floor, where my parents slept and where Father had his library, and down through the dining room and quietly out the French doors and into the night sounds and cool air of the garden.
I had done it! My heart
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