{ 74 }.

Your husbands family and mine have known each other for over two hundred years. I dont know your kin and have no intention of mak- ing their acquaintance. What I am very sure of, however, is that you are not leaving here with rights to any foal. Now, gon. Get going.

As he turned away, she said, There is two hundred and fifty thou- sand dollars in that briefcase.

Is that supposed to impress me? My dear woman, I can find a quar- ter of a million in the cushions of my couch so I assure you, I am wholly unswayed by your show of liquidity. More to the point, I cant be bought.

Not for one dollar. Not for a billion. He glanced over at the chauffeur.

Am I getting my shotgun. Or are you squeezing yourself back into that limo and having your driver hit the gas?

I am going to tell your father about this! This is disgraceful"

My father is dead to me. Youre more than welcome to discuss my business with him, but it will get you no further than this wasted trip out into the country. Enjoy your Derby weekend" elsewhere.

Pushing into the broom handle, he started to shamble his way back to the barn. In his wake, the chorus of multiple car doors opening and closing and the limos tires squealing out on the asphalt suggested that the woman was on her cell phone, bitching to her twenty- years- older husband about the shameful way shed just been treated.

Although considering gossip had her having been an exotic dancer in her twenties, he could guess shed been exposed to rather a lot worse in her previous life.

Before he went back inside and resumed his sweeping, he looked over the vista of his farm: The hundreds of acres of rolling grassland that was cut into paddocks with dark brown five- rail fences. The three stables with their red and gray slate roofs and their black siding with red trim. The outbuildings for the equipment, and the state- of- the- art trailers, and the white farmhouse where he stayed, and the clinic and the exercise ring.

His mother owned all of it. Her great- grandfather had bought the land and started the equine enterprise, and then her grandfather and father had continued to invest in the business. Things had coasted after { 75 }.

her father died some twenty years ago" and Edward had certainly never considered getting involved.

As the eldest son, hed been destined to step into the leadership role at the Bradford Bourbon Company" and actually, more than what leg- acy or primogeniture dictated, that had been where his heart was. He had been a distiller in his blood, as scrupulous with his products as a priest.

But then everything had changed.

Red & Black Stables had been the best, post- everything solution, a diversion that occupied his days until he could drink himself to sleep.

And even better, it was something his father wasnt involved in.

What little future he had was here with the bluegrass and the horses.

It was all he had.

You enjoyed that, didnt you, Moe said from behind him.

Not really. He shifted his weight and began to sweep the aisle again.

But no one is getting a part of this farm, not even God Himself.

You shouldnt talk like that.

Edward glanced over his shoulder to remind the man what his face looked like. You really think theres anything Im afraid of now?

As Moe made the sign of the cross, Edward rolled his eyes . . . and went back to his work.

{ 76 }.

NINE.

"l aying in bed and playing with my breasts. Virginia Eliza- beth Baldwine, Gin to her family, leaned back in her pad- ded chair. And then Im putting my hand between my legs. What do you want me to do with it now that its there? Yes, Im naked . . . what else would I be? Now, tell me what to do.

She tapped her cigarette over the Baccarat crystal wineglass shed emptied about ten minutes ago and crossed her legs under her silk robe.

The tugging on her hair was beyond annoying, and she glared at her hairstylist in the mirror of her bathroom.

Oh, yes, she moaned into her cell phone. Im wet . . . so wet, only for you . . .

She had to roll her eyes at the good girl reference, but that was what Conrad Stetson liked because he was an old- fashioned kind of man" he needed the illusion that the woman he was being unfaithful to his wife with was monogamous to him.

So silly.

But Gin did rather miss the early days of their relationship. It had been heady stuff to draw him slowly, inexorably away from his mar- { 77 }.

riage. She had reveled in how hard hed fought the attraction to her, the shame hed felt when theyd first kissed, the way hed tried so valiantly not to call her, see her, seek her out. And for a week or two, shed actually been interested in him, his attention a drug well worth bingeing on.

Once shed fucked him a few times, though? Well, it was too much missionary, for one thing.

Oh, yes, yes, yes . . . Im coming, Im coming . . .

As she orgasmed, her stylist flushed from embarrassment but kept pinning her dark hair in place while a maid came in from the walk- in closet with a velvet tray in her hands. On it were two parures, one made of Burmese rubies by Cartier in the forties and the other a sapphire cre- ation done in the late fifties by Van Cleef & Arpels. Both were her grandmothers, one having been given to Big Virginia Elizabeth by her husband on the birth of Gins mother, and the other presented on her grandparents twentieth wedding anniversary.

She made a moaning noise; then hit mute and shook her head at the maid. I want the Winston diamonds.

I believe Mrs. Baldwine is wearing them.

As Gin pictured her sister- in- law, Chantal, with the hundred- plus carats of D flawless on, she smiled and spoke slowly, as if addressing a dolt. Then take the diamonds my father bought my mother off that bitchs neck and ears and bring them here to me.

The maid blanched. My . . . pleasure.

Just before the woman stepped out of the bedroom, Gin called over, Make sure you clean them first. I cant stand that drugstore perfume she insists on wearing.

My pleasure.

It was a bit of a stretch to refer to Flowerbomb by Viktor & Rolf as drugstore, but it certainly wasnt Chanel. Honestly, though, what could you expect from a woman who hadnt even made it through Sweet Briar?

Gin unmuted the phone. Baby, Ive got to go. I need to get ready.

Im so sorry you cant be here, but you understand.

Cue that Peanuts routine, where the adults voice turned muffled.

{ 78 }.

God, had he always had that thick of a Southern accent? Bradfords didnt have any kind of dreadful garbled twang" only enough of a drawl to prove what side of the Mason- Dixon Line they were born and lived on and that they knew the difference between bourbon and whiskey.

The latter being beneath contempt.

Bye, now, she said, and hung up.

As she ended the call, she decided to end the relationship. Conrad had started talking about leaving his wife, and she didnt want that. He had two children, for godsakes" what was he thinking. It was one thing to have some fun on the side, but children needed the illusion of two parents.

Plus, shed already proven she had no business being a mother to anything. Not even a goldfish.

A half hour later, she was dressed in a Christian Dior gown made of U of C red and had that Harry Winston necklace laying heavy and cool on her collarbones. Her perfume was Coco by Chanel, a classic that she had decided she could carry off when she hit thirty. Her shoes were Loubous.

She was not wearing panties.

Samuel Theodore Lodge was coming to the dinner.

As she stepped out into the hall, she looked to the door opposite hers. Sixteen years ago to the day, she had given birth to the young girl who lived in there. And that had been about it for her involvement with Amelia. A baby nurse, followed by two full- time nannies, coupled with a sufficient passage of time, and they were now in prep- school territory.

So she didnt even catch a glimpse of her daughter anymore.

Indeed, Amelia had not come home for spring break, and that had been good. But the summer was looming, and the girls return from Hotchkiss was not something anyone, even Amelia most likely, looked forward to.

Could you even send a sixteen- year- old off to summer camp?

Maybe they could just ship her over to Europe for a two-month tour. Victorians had done that a hundred years ago, before even air- planes and cars with air bags.

They could pay someone to be her chaperone.

{ 79 }.

And actually, the urge to keep the girl away from Easterly wasnt because Gin didnt love her daughter. It was just that the girls presence was too stark a condemnation of choices and actions and lies that were Gins own and no one elses" and sometimes it was best not to look too closely at those things.

Besides, Europe was grand. Especially if one did it right.

Gin walked on, heading for the straight- out- of- Tara staircase that bifurcated on a middle landing before bottoming out on both sides of Easterlys tremendous marble foyer. The dress spoke up with each of her strides, the fall of silk rustling against the tulle underskirting in a way that made her imagine the hushed conversation of the Frenchwomen who had put the stitches in the gown.

As she came to the landing and chose the right side, as it was closer to the parlor cocktails were always served in, she could hear the patter of voices. There would be thirty- two for dinner tonight, and she would be seated in the chair her mother should be in, opposite and down the long table from her father at the head.

She had done this a million times and would do it a million times hence, this acting as the lady of the house" and usually it was a duty she carried out with pride.

Tonight, however, there was a mourning behind her heart for some reason.

Probably because it was Amelias birthday.

Best to get drinking.

Especially given that when she had called her daughter, Amelia had refused to come down and get on her dorms house phone.

It was the kind of thing Gin would have done.

See? She was a good parent. She understood her child.

L ane refused to dress in black tie for dinner. He just kept his slacks on, and traded his shirt for a button- down that hed left behind when hed gone to live with Jeff up north.

He was willing to be on time and that was it.

{ 80 }.

As soon as he hit the first floor, he started avoiding peoples stares and looking for a drink" and he ran into an old friend before he got to the Family Reserve.

Well, well, well, the New Yorker has returned to his roots finally, Samuel Theodore Lodge III said as he came over.

Lane had to smile. Hows my favorite southern- fried attorney?

While they embraced and clapped each others backs, the blond woman who was with Samuel T. hung off to the side, her eyes missing nothing" which was more than you could say about her dress. Any- thing shorter up top or on the bottom and shed be in her underwear.

So she was right down Samuel T.s alley.

Allow me to introduce Miss Savannah Locke. Samuel T. nodded to the woman as if giving her permission to come forward, and she was right on it, leaning in and offering her pale, slender hand. Go get us a drink, darling, would you? Hell have the Family Reserve.

As the woman hightailed it for the bar, Lane shook his head. I can serve myself.

Shes a stewardess. She likes to wait on people.

Arent they called flight attendants now?

So what made you decide to come back? It cant be the Derby.

Thats Edwards thing.

Lane shrugged off the question, not about to go into the situation with Miss Aurora. Too raw. I need your help with something. In a pro- fessional capacity, that is.

Samuel T.s eyes narrowed and then moved down to Lanes wedding ring- free hand. Cleaning house, are you.

How fast can you make it happen? I want things kept quiet and over with quick.

The man nodded once. Call me tomorrow morning. Ill take care of everything.

Thank you"

Up on the grand staircase, his sister, Gin, made the corner at the landing and paused, as if she knew people were going to want to exam- ine what she was wearing" and the red gown and all those jewels were { 81 }.

in fact worth the check- out. With acres of crimson silk falling to the floor and that set of Princess Di diamonds, she was the Oscars, Town & Country, and the Court of St. James all at once.

The hush that quieted through the foyer was both from awe and condemnation.