Free Forever by Margaret Pemberton Page A

daughters-in-law to whom he had secretly given his seal of approval.
    Charles Lafayette, after a few days’speculation, was also pleased. Gussie had begun to worry him lately. She had continued to be unusually withdrawn and introspective. Brooding when she should have been laughing. Silent when she should have been gaily chattering. Marriage to Bradley Hampton would dispel her moroseness. There was a likeable maturity about Bradley. He would make Gussie happy. And there would be no more sleepless nights worrying about fortune hunters and other such undesirables.
    Mae was slightly disappointed that Gussie had not done as she had promised, and devoted her life to unrequited love. It would have been so romantic. She used to sink into unusual silence whenever anyone mentioned Beau Clay’s name, but, fortunately, her fears had proved groundless. She was glad she had not divulged them to the practical Eden. Gussie was blatantly happy. Bradley would look after her.
    Gussie was in seventh heaven. First there was her eighteenth birthday party in August and then there was her wedding to look forward to. It was planned for October and was eagerly entered into social diaries.
    All through the hot, sultry summer, Gussie told her friends that she had never been so happy in her life. At the masqued balls and parties, the parades and barbecues, she was like a diamond, a host of facets seeming to sparkle at once as she laughed and danced, her handsome husband-to-be at her side.
    â€˜Everything is perfect, just perfect,’ she said happily to Mae and Eden as she swung on the old porch swing. ‘I never dreamed I could be so happy.’
    â€˜I’m going to marry Austin early next year,’ Mae said, sipping on her iced mint julep. She giggled. ‘Mrs Mae Merriweather. It’s quite a mouthful isn’t it? What’s the matter, Gussie? You’re not listening to me.’
    Gussie had halted the gentle rocking of the swing and was looking around her with a bewildered expression in her eyes.
    It’s nothing Mae. I just thought someone called my name.’
    â€˜For goodness’sake. I thought you’d stopped all that ages ago. Look at your arms. You’ve got goose bumps. There must be something wrong with your blood.’
    A dragon-fly hovered above them in the motionless air.
    Gussie rubbed her arms and sat down, her eyes troubled. ‘I keep thinking someone’s looking at me. It’s most weird.’
    â€˜Someone usually is,’ Eden said complacently, swirling the ice cubes round in her glass. ‘With your hair and eyes you can’t expect anything else.’
    Gussie laughed, dismissing the uneasy feeling that assailed her with such unpleasant regularity.
    â€˜Let’s have another drink. We’re big girls now,’ Eden said, wondering if she should point out to Gussie that Bradley was uncannily like Beau in lots of respects. Not as intimidating, of course. There was nothing satanic in Bradley’s handsomeness. Still, he had a way of commanding respect from even the oldest and most revered of New Orleans citizens, and his thick black hair and teasing eyes were nearly as devastating as Beau’s film-star looks had been. But Eden kept her thoughts to herself. She alone had seen the extent of Gussie’s hysteria after Beau Clay’s death. It would be a long time before she forgot the sight of Gussie, her eyes vacant with grief, her hair tumbling around her shoulders in wild disarray, her gown the one she had worn for the silly ritual the night before. Even to think of it caused the nape of her neck to prickle unpleasantly.
    â€˜Only the best French champagne,’ Charles Lafayette said sternly over the phone to the caterers. ‘I don’t want any corner-cutting.’
    He rose from his desk, puffing on a cigar as he strode to the study windows that overlooked St Michel’s rolling lawns. He’d planned everything himself, down to the last