Blood Roots Read online

  “Look at me, child, don’t be afraid. I understand you want to work for me.”

  Startled, Olivia forced herself to look into the wrinkled face. She heard herself say yes, and she saw her grandmother’s lips move in a faint smile.

  “So what can you do, Olivia? Turn around. Slowly.”

  “I …”

  “Around.” The old woman made a graceful movement with her hand. “That’s right … take your time.”

  Olivia took a deep breath and began to move. She could still feel the faded eyes going over her, and she tried to think of something to say.

  “I can do everything. I can cook—”

  “I have a cook,” said Miss Rose pleasantly. “Keep going.”

  As Olivia turned toward the table, she noticed Yoly standing against the wall, watching her curiously. It was then that she realized someone else was sitting in a chair just in front of Yoly, tilted back beyond reach of the light, staring at her.

  At that moment Skyler leaned out of the shadows with a slow, sly grin, and Olivia dropped her eyes in confusion.

  “Stop,” Miss Rose said.

  Olivia froze, her eyes held carefully on the floorboards. Now she could feel all their stares upon her, and her face began to grow conspicuously hot. The seconds dragged into painful minutes. Sweat dampened her forehead. A fly buzzed against the window, hopelessly trapped.

  “I’m hungry,” Skyler said cheerfully. “When do we eat?”

  “What else can you do?” Miss Rose spoke at last, and Olivia looked up gratefully. Skyler raised one eyebrow in amusement. Yoly’s stare lingered on her a moment more, then flicked away.

  “I can clean,” Olivia kept her voice steady. “I can do housework. I can work outside. I’m strong. I’m used to odd jobs. I’ll do anything—”

  “Anything?” Skyler’s lips slid into a smile, and his green eyes sparkled. In the daylight he was wickedly handsome, and Olivia tried not to look at him.

  “Keep turning.” Miss Rose smiled, and Olivia pivoted back to face her.

  I have to be here—don’t you understand?—I’m your granddaughter—only I don’t know how you feel about me, and I couldn’t bear it if you threw me out and I’d have nowhere else to go, and that’s why I can’t tell you—

  “Please let me stay,” Olivia said calmly. She met the old woman’s puzzled stare and tried not to falter beneath its intensity.

  “Oh, let her stay.” Skyler’s smile widened, and he lounged back casually in his chair. “I’m sure we can find some use for her. Especially since she does … anything.”

  Miss Rose cast him an annoyed look. “Oh, do hush up, Skyler. I’m perfectly capable of making up my own mind.”

  “I won’t be any trouble,” Olivia added, and she bit her lip, trying to hold back her desperation. You’ve got to let me stay … I belong here—it’s my right—

  “Sit down, child, and get some food into you before you faint on us again.” Miss Rose indicated a chair with another wave of her hand. “Yoly, since Helen seems to be … indisposed … this morning, would you please bring an extra plate?”

  “Yes’m.” Yoly gave a curt nod and stepped out, but not before one last backward glance at Olivia. Skyler stretched one long leg beneath the table and gave the rung of Olivia’s chair a shove. She saw him grin but tried to ignore it.

  “We respect privacy in this house.” Miss Rose reached for a small pitcher, her thin fingers fumbling over the handle before getting a firm grip. The pitcher shook a little in her hand as she poured gravy over a sausage on her plate. “I’ll ask you this now—strictly as a matter of propriety, you understand—and then, as far as I’m concerned, your business is entirely your own. As ours is … and of no concern to anyone else outside this household.” She held Olivia’s eyes for a long moment to make sure her point was well taken, looking pleased when the girl nodded. “Where are you from? How old are you? Do you mind solitude? And Yoly tells me you have no family.”

  Olivia stared down at her hands, trying to organize her answers. “I’m from the Midwest.” Lie. “I’m eighteen.” Truth.

  “Perfect,” Skyler murmured. Miss Rose seemed not to hear him.

  “And no, solitude doesn’t bother me at all. As a matter of fact, I like being alone. I’m used to it.” Another truth. So far so good. “And no, I don’t have any family. I never knew my father, and my mother’s dead.”

  “How sad for you, child,” Miss Rose said gently. “And friends?”

  “No friends.”

  “No one to wonder where you are?”

  “No. No one at all.”

  There was a long silence. Skyler reached for a silver coffeepot and filled his cup. His eyes never left Olivia’s face, yet he righted the pot again perfectly, just as the coffee reached the rim.

  “Well.” Miss Rose seemed to be thinking. She took a silver knife and cut her sausage into small, even bites. “As you can see, we’re quite isolated out here, and that’s the way I like it. I never go out, and people seldom come in—that’s also the way I like it. Whoever told you I needed help out here was no doubt having a joke—at both our expenses. But I fear my hospitality was sadly lacking last night as far as you were concerned, and I do apologize for that.”

  “That’s not true,” Olivia said firmly. “I’m the one who intruded and—”

  “And—” Miss Rose cut her off with a smile, “it would be a dishonor to the Devereaux name if I didn’t try to rectify the situation somehow.”

  Olivia said nothing. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest.

  “You fainted in my hallway,” Miss Rose went on unhappily. “And injured yourself in one of my bedrooms.”

  “Nasty cut.” Skyler shook his head solemnly. “How is it this morning, anyway?” The corners of his mouth curled in that infuriating half smile. “It was on your … left thigh. Wasn’t it?”

  Olivia felt her cheeks grow hot. For one split second she could actually recall the feel of his hand upon her leg, and she tried not to sound flustered.

  “It’s fine, thank you,” she said stiffly. “And thank you for calling Yoly to help me.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “And now I hear you discovered a most unfortunate surprise in your armoire this morning.” Miss Rose picked up the conversation as if the brief exchange between Skyler and Olivia had never happened.

  “It’s just that she was hurt,” Olivia said, turning her attention back to the head of the table. “I thought she was dead. Who is—”

  “Yes,” Miss Rose sighed. “Poor Helen. She has these … spells, you see. More often than is convenient. She’s a little … different from the rest of us.” She glanced at Skyler with a frown, which he didn’t seem to notice. “She requires delicacy. And great amounts of patience.”

  “I just hope she’s all right,” Olivia said sincerely. “If there’s anything I can do—”

  “Perhaps I’ll accept your offer,” Miss Rose broke in once more, her brow furrowed in thought. “An extra pair of hands would do us good. As you can see … our world is falling in here all around our heads.”

  Olivia leaned back as Yoly set a plate of food down in front of her. The china was chipped around the edges, the pattern faded, finely veined blue and white. Greasy sausages swam in puddles of thin brown gravy, giving off the same pungent smell as her stew last night. She tried not to make a face at the unpleasant odor and shifted her gaze back to Miss Rose.

  “I love your house, Miss Devereaux. What I’ve seen of it.”

  “Oh, yes … and you’ll grow to love it more, I’m sure,” Miss Rose said without hesitation. “There is a certain spirit about the old place even yet and—”

  “You do believe in spirits, don’t you, Miss Crawford?” Skyler had lifted his cup to his lips, yet Olivia could still feel his smile lurking behind it.

  “I’m forgetting my manners again,” Miss Rose said matter-of-factly, glancing from one face to the other. “Olivia, this is Skyler. Though I take it you two have already met?”
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br />   In answer, Skyler raised his cup in a silent toast and downed the last of his coffee. Again, Olivia tried not to look at him, but when she caught his furtive wink, she knew she was blushing and hurried to change the subject.

  “And what about your family?” Olivia said quickly. The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She saw the startled look on her grandmother’s face and would have given anything to take the question back again. As it was, she had no choice but to go on, feigning innocence. “What I mean is, I was just wondering how many people live here.”

  And it was strange, Olivia thought as she watched Miss Rose’s expression, how a blank mask descended over the old woman’s features … how the eyes sparked angry, then sad … how the voice grew faraway …

  “I live here. And the ones who take care of me. I have no other family.”

  Skyler’s eyes darted to the old woman’s face, then slid away.

  “Eat up, child,” Miss Rose said softly. “You need some meat on your bones.”

  The awkward moment had passed. Miss Rose picked up a spoon and slowly stirred her coffee, her gaze still on Olivia, pensive.

  “There are only two things I require, and we should get along splendidly.”

  “Yes,” Olivia nodded, her hands out of sight, twisting in her lap. “Whatever you like, Miss Devereaux.”

  “As I said before, the goings-on of this household are private and sacred. All necessities are delivered, and all financial matters are handled by my lawyer through correspondence. I don’t expect you’ll see much of anyone else outside, but if and when you do, you are never to mention anything about this house or those who live in it.”

  “Yes. I understand.”

  “And secondly,” Miss Rose said. She stared at Olivia for so long that the girl began to grow uneasy. “Secondly,” she repeated almost in a whisper.

  Olivia took the initiative. “And what would that be?”

  Her grandmother’s eyes fell on her, kind and gentle. “Why, to do what’s expected of you, child, that’s all. Just …” The faded eyes went over Olivia in one final appraisal, and a smile flitted across the thin lips. “Do what’s expected of you.”

  Olivia could hardly swallow. She forced a deep breath into her lungs and tried to smile. “I’ll do my best, Miss Devereaux.”

  “Yes.” The old woman’s smile widened. “I’m very sure that you will.”

  She stood up, but as Olivia started to rise, Miss Rose waved her back in her chair. “Please … finish your breakfast. When you’re through, Yoly will show you what needs to be done, and I’ll ask her to find you some different clothes. But in the meantime—”

  “I’ll be more than happy to keep her company,” Skyler said easily. “After all, we wouldn’t want her feeling neglected on her first day here.”

  “Aren’t you the thoughtful one,” Miss Rose said, casting him a sidelong glance. “And now, if you’ll excuse me—”

  “Thank you, Miss Devereaux.” Olivia looked up as the woman started past her. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

  “Why, there’s no need to thank me, child.”

  Miss Rose paused beside Olivia’s chair and rested one blue-veined hand lightly on the girl’s head.

  “Believe me,” she said softly, “you’ll definitely earn your keep.”

  For the second time Olivia watched as the old woman’s eyes shifted to Skyler’s.

  Only this time she could swear that a secret smile passed between them.

  8

  “SO …” SKYLER LEANED BACK in his chair and gave a slow, sinuous stretch. “Welcome to Devereaux House.”

  Olivia scarcely heard him. She felt numb—part of some incredible fantasy she’d woven for herself a million times. I can’t believe it … she actually let me stay … and I never had to say a word. She stared down at her plate and gripped the edge of the table. This proves it … this proves that I belong here. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been so easy.

  “Easy,” Skyler said, and Olivia jumped, startled.

  “What?”

  “I said, take it easy. Relax. Time moves slow here. You’ll see.”

  She nodded distractedly and picked up her fork, toying with her food. Behind Skyler, a line of French doors rattled their panes of smudged glass as the wind tried to get in. The world outside was a hazy mass of dripping moss and greenery—cedars and oaks, elephant ears, camellias, pines, and yucca plants. Olivia’s gaze moved along the wall … to the sideboard … the glass-fronted cabinets full of old china and silver and candlesticks—across the table, where it stopped.

  Just opposite the chair where Miss Rose had been sitting, a place had obviously been set and cleared away. The faint imprint of a plate was still evident on the cloth, along with a damp telltale circle where a glass had rested. As Olivia stared, she noticed the linen napkin folded on the tablecloth … folded in the same hasty way as the one upstairs by the empty hearth in the child’s bedroom. “Jesse’s been in here … making crumbs … using the fire because he can’t ever stay warm …” Glancing around quickly, Olivia brought her eyes back to Skyler.

  “You don’t trust me,” he said, as if the probability didn’t bother him in the least.

  “I was just noticing … someone else must have already eaten before I came in.”

  Skyler followed the direction of her stare and answered without hesitation. “What can I say … we’re always hungry around here.”

  “Then why weren’t you having breakfast just now?”

  “I have … peculiar eating habits.” The eyebrow arched, and he crossed his arms comfortably over his chest. He had a way of looking secretly amused at everything, and Olivia had the feeling that he was laughing at her now, though his face was carefully composed.

  “Then … do a lot of people work here?” she asked.

  “Not a lot. Some.”

  “Do you work here?”

  A pause. A nod. “Yes. You could say that.”

  “Doing what?”

  He leaned toward her and rested his elbows on the table. “What do you think?”

  She tried not to meet his eyes, but she couldn’t help it. In the revealing light of day he looked only mildly sinister, as compared to the way he’d looked last night in the dark. If anything, he appeared younger, almost boyish now in his dirty jeans and torn T-shirt; she guessed him to be in his early twenties. From the way he was slouched in his chair she could also tell that he was taller than she’d remembered, and his fingers, slowly caressing his coffee cup, were long and slender and tan.

  “You work outside,” Olivia said quietly.

  His lips slid into a closed smile. “What a clever girl you are. Tell me more.”

  “I don’t know any more.” She glanced reluctantly into his green eyes, into his narrow face. Even without the distortion of flickering shadows, she could still see the cunning there, the sharp watchfulness, though it was tempered now by an almost mischievous grin.

  “Then I’ll tell you. I take care of the grounds.”

  “Not very well, from what I’ve seen,” she said before she thought, but he only chuckled.

  “Miss Rose wants it that way. I do what I can do.”

  “And you’ve been here a long time?”

  He reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a crushed pack of cigarettes. “Sometimes it seems like forever.”

  Olivia nodded, redirecting her gaze out the windows. “It’s strange, isn’t it. It really does feel as though time has stopped here.”

  Skyler cast her a sidelong glance. “Smoke?”

  “No. So it’s you and Miss Devereaux and—”

  “Miss Rose,” he corrected. “We all call her Miss Rose.”

  “And Yoly and Helen,” Olivia finished. Since she didn’t want anyone to know she’d been eavesdropping on certain conversations around the house, she couldn’t very well ask Skyler to identify the two other voices she’d heard. To her surprise, he told her about one anyway.

  “And Mathilde,” Skyler added
. “She cooks and helps Yoly.”

  “With what?” Olivia looked around in dismay. From what she’d witnessed so far, it was inconceivable to think that someone actually tried to clean the house.

  Skyler read her expression immediately, and his answer was curt. “Miss Rose likes it this way.”

  Olivia waited for him to go on, but instead he struck a match and held it to the cigarette dangling between his lips. He blew out a long, thin stream of smoke. There was something so calculated about his movements that she felt herself shiver.

  “Cold?” Skyler asked, only he hadn’t been looking at her, and she wondered how he knew. Quickly she busied herself with her food.

  “No. Actually I’m getting rather hot.” She bit her lip as a half smile flickered on his face, but he let the remark go by.

  “Mathilde won’t like you,” he said casually. “Just a friendly warning.”

  “No?” Olivia thought a moment, still remembering that sultry French accent in the room upstairs. “Why not? She doesn’t even know me.”

  “She doesn’t like anybody, and she won’t want to know you.” Skyler took the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and inspected it with narrowed eyes. After a drawn-out moment, his eyes slid to Olivia’s face, and he cocked his head. “Maybe you won’t have to work with her. Maybe you can work with me instead.”

  Olivia found that prospect disturbing and immediately got the subject back on track. “So there’s no one else in the house? Just you five?”

  His expression never changed. His eyes remained on her face. “Why?”

  “I just wondered …” Her mind whirled. “Because of what happened last night in my room.”

  “Ah.” Skyler nodded. “Yes. The attack.”

  “It was something,” she insisted. “Someone—”

  “But not me.” Again that hidden amusement that made her feel angrily flustered and confused. “If it’d been me …” He took a long drag on his cigarette, then let his breath out … slowly … slowly … “I wouldn’t have stopped at your thigh.”