The Ghosts of Kerfol by Deborah Noyes Page A

forbiddance — of her relationship with Stan, Daddy liked him. Suze knew he did. But Stan was what her father called “a bad risk.” He was spontaneous at best and reckless the rest of the time, a gambler like his own father — losing sporadic if significant sums, which he earned catering to wealthy clients in New York and New England.
    “Maybe he just needs guidance, Daddy. Don’t you remember what that was like? You had help. You have to remember what it felt like . . . to have talent but need help.”
    “I remember, and I see what it’s cost me.”
    “But you
don’t
see.”
    “
Here’s
what I see, Susanna. Every time your grandfather looks at you, he’s not sure if it’s your mother looking back at him from those pretty doe eyes, or me. We need to make sure it’s her. Otherwise you’ll end up coming in the back door. Like I do.”
    “You do not.”
    “In spirit. I do.”
    “Stan loves me.”
    “He loves your money.”
    “I don’t have any money.” She smiled gratefully. “You do.”
    He ran a light hand over his perfectly parted and oiled salt-and-pepper hair and straightened his bow tie, English driving cap in hand. “It’s your mother’s money, and she’s dead, so we may as well admit it’s your grandfather’s.” He was straining, she could tell, already on the move, though her pleadings held him here. For now. “I’ve learned how to invest it. That’s my contribution.”
    “That’s plenty.”
    “But I lack manners, says Gram, and yours leave a lot to be desired. I don’t want them to write you off as they have me. I don’t want you to disappoint them.”
    “Like I’ve disappointed you?”
    “You’ve had everything.”
    “On a silver platter. And you came up from nothing and resent me in advance for blowing it all to bits. Because that’s what I’ll do, Daddy, if you don’t let me have what I want, if you don’t let me have Stan. I want to go home to Stan. There’s nothing else you can give me anymore. I’m drowning in
things.
” She swallowed. “There’s nothing else I want.”
    He grinned that guileless grin of his — ill timed, Suze thought, as she was battling back fresh tears, but it usually had a gift attached, so she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
    “Not even this?”
    “This,” she saw, looking up through her lashes, sniffling, was a beautiful antique sapphire pendant set in an elaborate choker of waved white gold, inset with diamonds. The whole effect was worthy of Poseidon.
    She reached out, but he pulled it back, his grin wavering. “Now, this one’s not for keeps. It’s far too much for someone your age, but I know you like to play, and this holiday’s yours, so enjoy. It’s something from the estate safe. They let me use it, evidently forgetting they had a few things gathering dust in there. Shame to see it go to waste. But take care. I mean that, Suze. That’s a pretty penny there, and I have a few pennies, but I’ll bet that thing has a history if it’s languished this long.”
    Suze pouted.
    “I’ll make it OK. I always do — make it OK. Don’t I?”
    She hung her head, thrilled and humiliated by her own willingness, her vast good fortune. But she let him clasp it behind her neck, though it took dedication and prying of the chin to get her to look up and seal the compact with a smile. Yes, one more season would bring her to her senses. One more spin round the globe. One more shiny gemstone. “Thank you, Daddy.”
    “My pleasure.” He kissed her forehead. “I mean that. It brings me pleasure, you know, to make you smile. To see you happy. With everything I’ve got, it’s all I want.”
    Then why do you work so much?
    Suze fingered the jewels and let herself feel ashamed: not to admit a little shame made her an ingrate. There were things to be ashamed of, things she could only begin to contemplate this far from Stan, all this way round the world in a musty old castle in France.
    At least she’d had the sense to hold