Page 22 of Shadow's Surrender
“Life doesn’t run according to Dad’s schedule. Anyway, I don’t want to marry Warren.” Scarlett looked over her shoulder and saw her mother cup a hand over her mouth as she gasped.
“What are you saying?” she whispered.
“I guess, that I’m not that interested in him. Dad’s been the one pushing this, not me.”
“Warren is a great catch and any woman would be proud to stand by his side.”
“Then let ‘any woman’ do that.”
“You ungrateful, spoiled brat! Your father does everything for you,” her mother said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not getting sucked into this, Mom. I’m going to take a cool shower and try and read even though it sounds like a construction zone in here because of Dad’s crazy-ass idea that we just had to have a damn indoor tennis court.” She stalked out of the room and climbed up the stairway, blocking out her mother’s crying. One thing she’d learned over the years was that her mom was quite the manipulative drama queen.
Scarlett quickly stepped out of her dress, hung it in the closet, and walked into her en suite bathroom for a refreshing shower. After she’d dried off and brushed her long golden hair, she padded over to the dresser and picked out something to wear. She threw on a pair of white shorts and a yellow tank top, then walked out of the bedroom. As she descended to the main floor, the high-pitchedwhirringof electric saws sliced through her head, and she pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples.
“Are you all right, Miss Scarlett?”
She smiled weakly at Heddy. The head housekeeper had been with the family before Scarlett had been born. Barely over five feet tall, Heddy’s pale blue eyes held concern in them as she looked up at Scarlett. She ran her hands over her crisp black uniform then touched the top of her tight gray bun.
“It’s just all the noise from the construction,” Scarlett said.
“Why don’t you go into the family room and I’ll bring you a cold towel to place over your forehead.”
She shook her head slightly, the movement caused her to wince in pain. “You don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to the club to meet up with Maryann and Julie,” her mother said, looking cool and sophisticated in a cream linen dress that skimmed over her slight figure. Her blonde hair was coiled at the nape of her neck, and a strand of South Sea pearls rested against her collarbone.
“Okay,” Scarlett replied, thinking that the red lipstick her mother had on was a bit too much.
“Please try and be in a better mood when I get home. We aren’t finished discussing your attitude toward your soon-to-be fiancé.” She turned to Heddy. “I want you to bring some lemonade to the men working on the tennis house. Has it been made?”
The older woman bobbed her head. “Yes, Mrs. Mansfield.”
With a curt tip of her head, Pamela Mansfield crossed over to the door and walked out.
“I can bring the lemonade over to the workers,” Scarlett said as a thread of satisfaction wove through her. Just thinking about how appalled her mother would be about that made her smile.
A look of horror washed over Heddy’s face. “Oh, no, Miss Scarlett. I’ll have Clara and Jane go down there.”
No matter how many times she’d told Heddy not to call her “Miss Scarlett,” the house manager always did. One time when Scarlett’s mother overheard her telling Heddy to drop theMiss, her mother had chastised Scarlett, telling her that it would be disrespectful for a servant to call anyone in the family by their proper name only.“Heddy and the others know their place,”her mother would say so often that it made Scarlett want to scream.
“That’s crazy. They have enough to do and so do you. I’m not doing much of anything, so I’ll go.”
“But …” Heddy’s mouth puckered and worry sank down deep into the lines of her face.
“Don’t worry about my mother—I’m not going to say a word.”
“Miss Scarlett, it just isn’t proper.” Heddy’s gaze ran over her.
She laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Heddy could be so old-fashioned. “I’ll have either Clara or Jane help me carry some of the pitchers.”
Heddy looked unconvinced, and she kept shifting in place. Scarlett went over to her and hugged her lightly. “Please don’t worry. It’s all right. Anyway, I’m not in high school anymore. I’m twenty-five years old.” She pulled away. “I’m all grown up now.”
Heddy nodded, a strained smile on her lips. She slowly turned away and headed toward the kitchen.
As Scarlett ambled on the brick pathway toward the construction, she gripped a pitcher in each hand. Clara followed behind her at a slower pace, balancing three pitchers on a silver tray.
“Oh, shit,” Scarlett mumbled as some of the lemonade spilled over her hands. She stopped and put the pitchers down then wiped off the sticky liquid and resumed her march.
