"What do you know about cigars?"
"Not much, but my father smokes Havanas. I
can get some for you," he added, his attempt to win
favor blatantly obvious.
"I'm quite capable of getting my own," Daddy
replied sternly.
"Are you here to visit Belinda or jabber with
my father?" I asked them.
Quin poked Peter with his elbow and the three
followed me out of the study and to the stairway. "Normally, my parents don't approve of my
sister having male visitors in her room," I said as I led
them up. One of them snickered, but I didn't give him
the satisfaction of showing I had heard.
I paused outside Belinda's bedroom door and
turned as the three gathered anxiously around me.
What power did Belinda possess to cause young men
to exhibit such enthusiasm and desire? I wondered.
Was it simply her promiscuity or did she indeed have
something extra, something I could never have,
something given at birth, a quality of excitement, a
promise that stirred their male hormones like witches
stirred their brew.
"Just a moment," I said. They were breathing
down my neck in anticipation. If they were horses,
they'd be choking on their bridles and snorting, I
thought. I knocked.
"Yes?" Belinda called.
"You have visitors. Are you decent?" "Yes, Olivia. They can come in," she said and I
opened the door.
Anyone looking at Belinda now would surely