Cruel as the Grave Read Online Free Page B

There were dynamics at work here which she had no preparation to understand. Once again she felt like poking her father with something sharp.
    Helena sensed some of her nervousness, because she turned to pat Maggie’s arm soothingly, saying, “Don’t mind those two, my dear—they have twenty-five years of unused insults to trade.” She smiled wickedly, and Maggie could see the impishness in her eyes. “Retty and Gerard always got along famously, because he’s the only one who ever gives her back as good as she hands out.”
    “Well, my goodness,” a voice exclaimed loudly from behind them, “the prodigal son is finally home.”
    Maggie turned to see who the speaker was and almost fainted from the shock.
    For a long moment everything wavered, and Maggie thought the room was going to spin around her. Then she took a deep breath as the woman moved closer. The silence held.
    The woman returned Maggie’s gaze steadily, the faint hint of a frown stirring around her lips as she stared at the younger woman. She cocked her head to one side and said, “Goodness me, you’re like a ghost from the past.”
    Retty broke the uneasy silence. “Maggie, this is your grandmother’s sister, Lavinia Culpeper. Lavinia, your great-niece, Gerard’s daughter, Maggie.”
    Maggie stood as the woman came closer. Lavinia Culpeper was perhaps two inches shorter than Maggie, but the squareness of her shoulders and the spareness of her lean frame lent her the impression of height. Maggie felt as if she were staring into a mirror, but one which distorted the view somewhat, showing her what she could look like after forty years of dissatisfaction with life. Lavinia had an abundance of dark auburn hair, dramatically streaked with white over the temples, and she was dressed in a dark green linen dress, much like Maggie’s own, which highlighted the green of her probing eyes. She had an angularity of feature which marked her face with a vague air of horsiness enhanced by the thick, long hair. The aura of discontent came powerfully to Maggie. Why, she wondered, is this woman so bitter?
    “I’m not in the least surprised you knew nothing about me,” Lavinia said, her voice dripping with venom. “After all, I’m just an in-law here in the McLendon stronghold. Welcome home.” She turned to Gerard. “You had the sense, once, to get away from here. Why did you come back?”
    “Hello, Lavinia, it’s wonderful to see you, too,” Gerard said in a neutral tone. Neither he nor his aunt made any effort to embrace. “I thought it was time I came back and introduced my daughter to her family.”
    Lavinia regarded him in silence. “Lunch is ready.” She turned and walked away.
    “Come along, everyone,” Retty said, standing up.
    Still a bit stunned by what had just transpired, Maggie followed the rest of the family out into the hall and into the dining room next door.
    The table could comfortably accommodate fifty guests, Maggie decided as she focused on the room in order to regain her equilibrium. One end of the long table was elegantly set with expensive-looking china, polished silver, and sparkling crystal. Maggie slid into the seat Retty indicated she should occupy, then bowed her head as Harold commenced to say grace.
    Harold spoke with fervent thanks for the fact that two members of the family had returned home after a long absence. Something suspiciously like a snort came from the head of the table where Retty sat, but Maggie couldn’t be quite sure. It might have come from her father, seated on Retty’s left.
    Once Harold’s prayer ended, Retty rang a small silver bell, and Adrian Worthington appeared through a doorway bearing a platter of fried chicken. As Maggie observed more of her surroundings, she noticed that the elegantly furnished table already held a number of vegetable dishes—corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, two varieties of peas, and lima beans, or “butter beans” as Helena called them when she passed them to Maggie.