The Courting of Thomasyna Tollefson

Stephan-1

Stephan

WAVES, CRASHING AGAINST JAGGED boulders below, sent spray upwards as far as the sparse bushes that poked determinedly out from the cliff side. The Atlantic, an ominous deep slate gray and rolling with huge white-capped waves, reflected the sky in one of its blackest moods. Dark clouds towered into thunderheads, and the awesomely booming clashes and dazzling flashes that had teased in the distance, now threatened the immediate vicinity. The storm wouldn’t hold off much longer, but at least it would alleviate the heat of a late June day.

Thomasyna Tollefson stood near the cliff’s edge, absently pulling the ears of her magnificent black Chow, and contemplating the events of the past several weeks. One in particular haunted her—made her jump at any sudden sound, her heart freezing, then racing like a Porsche on a straightway—rendering her bones and her will nothing but a pitiful gelatin blob.

The Villain had peeled off his Princely disguise entirely Saturday night. Now he was on his way back to Los Angeles with someone else. But who knew with him? He might change his mind and return.

She would really rather jump off this cliff than face him.

Musing through the ‘if onlys’, Thomi came to the conclusion finally that, if only she’d had a working brain in her head, she could have avoided the whole mess in the first place! Both it and her heart had betrayed her. Not even to Simon Lindell had she given trust so completely! So readily . . . so blindly . . . oooh, so gullibly!

Simon had some faults too, but none like Charley Ascott’s! In addition, his love for her had been real. Was still, as a matter of fact.

Never had she appreciated that—until this moment. He’d been a friend of the family for so long, she’d had trouble thinking of him as a lover. They’d done some films together and two television miniseries. He and his actor/director brother ran tame at her family’s stable, DreamWynd Equestrian Center, for they both boarded horses there. For all the time they’d spent together these past few months, somehow Simon’s devotion hadn’t impressed her enough to see him the way he’d wanted to be seen by her. A little late to beg him to take her back too. He’d found someone else. Ah, why—why had she kissed him off so heartlessly?

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Why did you think Charley was worth it? demanded her mind for the ten billionth time.

What had it been that’d lassoed her like a wild filly on the prairie? That soft caressing tone that none other had used with her before? His insistence—at first—of doing everything for her? Or was it his smile? No, no . . . probably was those oh, so sincere, happy brown eyes when he begged her to let him see her—that the wrap of the filming of Kate of the Oglala shouldn’t be the last time they saw each other.

Of all her suitors, only he and Simon had presented her with more than just a few roses and the rare card. Gratifying—except Simon had actually used his own wallet to get them for her. Charley—

And people say you can act! Never again, honey!! Never, NEVER, again!!!

Probably she’d have a bonfire later on and burn all the things he’d given her. They’d only been tools to him. Tools to impress the heart and lull the mind’s defenses.

Charles Wolfram Ascott IV not only dazzled, then drained, her heart, he’d pretty much vacuumed her bank account down to paper dust. Which must have been his principal reason for wanting to be with her in the first place—hence all the sweet smiles and gifts . . . well, sweet smiles. Those gifts she’d more than likely bought herself!

Had been a sizable account too. She’d risen quickly in the ranks of higher paid performers and was still rising. Likely, she wouldn’t be in this empty state long. But she’d pledged some of her resources to her favorite charities and other good causes.

Her altruistic spirit was no secret. A virtue that served to offset some faults, chiefly a maddeningly insolent arrogance she reserved for those apt to mind her business for her. It didn’t surface often, fortunately, but still, often enough to exasperate those on the receiving end of it.

She ought to have employed more of it with dear Charley, for this attitude had always seemed to serve her well where men were concerned. She’d certainly curbed Simon’s ardor with it when he’d taken liberties she’d given him no permission to take. Was a great defense in difficult situations . . . any difficult situation . . .

Well . . . most situations . . . nothing had helped Saturday night.

Oh, sigh . . . Talk about blind infatuation!

The door of her mind opened a crack, and the events of the weekend peeked out. As had been his habit of late, Charley’d spent the whole of Friday with his friends, missing the date he’d earlier made with her. She and her sisters had gone to Christie’s for the evening without him. Actually, she’d had an excellent time without him.

The notion she ought to bail out of this affair became, that night, more of a conviction when the girls returned home and found he’d missed the last curve in the road and had run his car into a ditch. The Camaro sustained no damage, but Charley had left the scene. They came upon him staggering in the middle of the road, as drunk as he normally was—but this time he had no remorse for it.

His expression ugly, his mood belligerent, he wasted no words in apology to her, no plea for forgiveness. While she found she could still feel concern for him, she hardened her heart against his problems and gripes.

Particularly this one. Which he probably wanted to cry about all the rest of his life.

She’d heard this many times before—his Grandfather Ascott’s illogical decree of disowning Charles III when his second wife left him so long ago, never telling him she was pregnant.

“My grandmother is better people than he ever was, but did he care? No, he did not—and he punished my father for her leaving him! What was he supposed to do? He wasn’t even born yet, for God’s sakes!”

They’d gotten Charley into Rikki’s purple Mustang, but then they couldn’t get him out once they passed through the gates and parked as close to the house as they could without driving on the lawn. He just kept up his tirade.

“All their lives, he’s given them whatever they wanted! Sent ‘em to the schools they wanted to go to—Stephan, Karley, and Kourtnay, even Dyana—who’s the snobbiest b***h! Must ‘o felt sorry for her—or no! Must o’ been he’d seen how like himself she was, and that’s why he loved her! The others ain’t so bad . . . it’s just the principle!”

He was silent a moment thinking about this, then he spouted on, “So, only they got mentioned in his will! Only they get to split his wealth! Papa Ascott’s a fool! Rejecting his firstborn like that—my father! Never even asked to see him once Gramma Freddy left him. So, I can’t think why he favored Karley so much! She’s a damned clone of my grandmother!

“I tell you that no one’s allowed to even mention my grandmother’s name? Probably burned her portraits. I would’ve liked to’ve had ‘em! But no-oo, I’m her grandson, so I’m nothing too! Then the old man turns around and marries my grandmother’s sister, Theadora! Now there’s an intelligent move! But I’ll bet my life he did it to spite my grandmother!”

Between his anger and his intoxication, it’d been difficult to get him to understand it was time to let it go and find a place to crash for the night. Naturally, they’d help him find someone to come for him and his car. He’d finally come out of the Camaro, but he could hardly stand, much less walk.

It looked, at first, like they’d have to leave him on the lawn. But after a couple false starts, Charley’d picked himself up, and staggered up the steps to the porch. Once inside, he’d fallen in the space between the overstuffed white sofa and the light oak and glass coffee table. Made one attempt to get himself up again, but he hadn’t the strength.

He’d looked up at the three sisters, all in a row, identical as team uniforms, and informed them, “I’m gonna . . . be the nail in their tire when . . . when I take her away like I took the others! My father’sh not good enough—they ain’t either! I’ll fix ‘em all!”

“Charley—”

“You wanna bet on that?” His tone mean, daring her to challenge him.

“No. Be quiet now. I have to find someone to come get you!”

“Go ahead, call somebody. Don’t matter to me!” His gaze narrowed, and he’d peered at each girl in turn. “Which one o’ you is . . . Tami? Dammit, you all do this to me on purpose! I’m seein’ . . . triple as it is . . .! Care about you, Tami! Gonna prove it to you, too! Gonna get you things you never dreamed of! Gonna . . . I’m gonna . . . love you like . . . shweet—”

She’d cut him off then, not in the mood to listen to his drunken claims of affection and his empty promises. Moreover, right at that moment, she loathed hearing that particular nickname on his lips. Good chance she’d never want to hear it again ever—from anyone!

“Sure, fine, whatever. I’m calling Tony now! Don’t get comfy there!”

For Charley’d collapsed entirely before she’d spoken three words. Which, while inconvenient, thankfully ended his ranting. Ming stood guard over the inert form, just in case. The young Chow hadn’t liked Charley from the beginning. Of course, the feeling had been totally mutual.

Thomasyna began calling around, hoping to find someone with the first one. Unfortunately, all of Charley’s friends were in the same shape he was.

“Any point in calling his uncle’s place?” Rikki’d asked. “You should’ve listened to me; taken him back down the hill and dumped him outside his gates instead of bringing him home with us!”

“Yes, this is one puppy we’ve been saying no to for months. Listen to us! Take him to the pound! Put him to sleep! Put us all out of our misery!”

Thomi had pointedly ignored Halleigh beyond saying, “He is sleeping!” and addressed Rikki, “Oh, you know there’s no point in calling his uncle’s place. He hates me so much I barely get to say my name. If one of his servants answers, they tell me there’s no one available to take my call.” Thomi eyed his prone form regretfully. “No getting him up now if I wanted to dump him off at his uncle’s gates . . .”

“Not asking him to come get you!” Halleigh said, royally annoyed. “He could send someone else for him, couldn’t he?”

“He could, but he won’t. So, we’ll just leave him where he is—again! Ming’ll watch him for us! He won’t be waking up until past noon anyway! And I’d wanted to ride tomorrow! Figures! Why couldn’t he have just crashed at Tony’s?”

Because he liked giving the illusion that he was welcome to stay at Cliff Top at any time! Between your sheets, dear, to be specific.

All right, all right, yes! She ought to have corrected that early on. Now, almost no one believed it when she said it wasn’t true. Since that was the case, Charley kept hoping she’d simply give in and make it true.

But she’d held her ground, to his disappointment.

She ought to have investigated more closely all the instances he’d asked for money, too. But she hadn’t wanted to believe he’d do anything other than what he’d vowed he was doing. Hadn’t wanted to admit he wasn’t much different than most of the other men she’d dated—except Simon. For Charley’s claims of seeing to “investments for their future” hadn’t had anything to do with their future at all. He’d been clever about hiding his real purpose for asking her for so much money.

Kept buying her things, taking her to exclusive nightclubs and restaurants . . . All, apparently, with her money—and that was the only bet she’d place right now!

He’d gambled every coin in his pockets and under his car seats to oblivion—an obsession of his she hadn’t realized the depth of until a half hour ago, when someone had shown up at her gates looking for him and the vast sum of money he owed.

On Saturday, however, he’d seemed like himself again. Apologized for his behavior of the night before, begging just one more chance, and wouldn’t you know it, right after that, he’d pleaded for one last loan. The last one, really!

“What for this time?”

He’d been a little taken aback by her cold tone, but not daunted. “Tami, please! I’ll pay you back, I promise. I’ve lent some cash to Tony—which I was expecting to get back last night—so I could lend it to my brother, Ryon. I don’t want to go into what sort of trouble he’s in, but I can’t abandon him like that! We’re brothers! Please, Tami! He’s a great guy—just . . . impetuous!”

Well, she had impetuous brothers too, and she’d come to their rescue more than once, so she’d allowed herself to be persuaded one more time. He’d kissed her so sweetly, and promised he’d spend the afternoon with her, doing anything she wanted to do. Even go to DreamWynd. Put up with her family—none of whom admired him.