Daughter of Deceit Read Online Free PDF

Rita Louise presided over any gathering like a queen. She lived with one maid in a condominium high above Peachtree Street, where, Posey pointed out, she could look down on everybody else.
    Rita Louise had used her money and influence to insure her husband a pulpit in Atlanta for his entire ministry, but it was his own humility and ability to speak truth in love that had guaranteed that Father John was revered and loved. His widow was revered and feared.
    That morning, Rita Louise sat with her gnarled hands resting on a silver-headed cane, swollen joints covered by emeralds and diamonds. Her silver-gray shirtwaist and matching cardigan had been in style forty years before and would be in style forty years thence, as would the double strand of pearls that circled her throat. Her long, slender feet, encased in gray flats, were crossed at the ankles. Her silver hair, confined in the French twist she had worn all her adult life, looked ready for a tiara.
    Posey had been known to ponder whether she ever combed out her hair completely, or whether bugs might nest in its recesses. That remark, fortunately, had never reached Rita Louise.
    The only discordant note that morning was Rita Louise’s too-bright lipstick. Katharine, having helped her mother and two elderly aunts dress for social occasions for years, suspected Rita Louise’s eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. Her vinegary disposition certainly was. Her eyebrows—not simply silver but strongly penciled charcoal gray—drew together. “Get yourselves settled so Ann Rose can go on with her program.”
    “I can’t stay. I have Chip in the car.” Payne clutched Katharine’s arm and drew her toward the door. “Does Mama seem to be okay?”
    Katharine glanced toward the couch near the window, where Bara’s neighbors on both sides were hunched as far as they could get into the fat arms of the couch, looks of distress on their faces. Payne’s gaze followed Katharine’s and she caught a quick breath of dismay.
    As if drawn by a magnet, Bara looked that way. “You don’t have time to tutor anybody.”
    Payne turned a miserable pink. “I only came to bring Murdoch. Do you want to go home?”
    “I just got here. Go on home.” Bara waved a hand dismissively.
    “You forgot to pick me up,” Murdoch repeated.
    Bara shifted to show them both a bony shoulder.
    Ann Rose, conditioned by years of teaching unruly students, remained unruffled. “If you’d like to stay, Payne…”
    It was a clear dismissal. “Take care of her,” Payne told Katharine softly as she left. One maid let her out the front door and another materialized with a chair for Katharine.
     
    As Ann Rose finished her speech and opened the floor for discussion, the army of caterers silently moved into the dining room across the hall, putting out trays of sandwiches, tarts, and crudités, and crystal pitchers of iced tea with lemon and mint. One opened bottles of chilled wine while another carried in a silver pot of coffee. Peach-clad maids set up card tables and chairs in the far end of the hall and covered them with soft green cloths and small vases of flowers. Katharine had seen that the den and library were already full of tables when she carried back Bara’s keys. Posey was right. A woman who could invite fifty women into her home, give a lecture, and then serve them a sit-down luncheon was formidable.
    Having eaten a light breakfast, Katharine was more than ready for lunch. Being at the back of the crowd, she looked forward to being at the head of the line.
    “Katharine?” Ann Rose called. “Since you’re back there already, will you be so kind as to pour coffee?”
    Katharine grabbed a tiny crabmeat-and-cream-cheese sandwich and swallowed it in two bites before taking her position behind the silver service.
    Murdoch, who had managed to secure the position Katharine had hoped for, held out a porcelain cup and nodded toward the pot Katharine held. “That set is almost as nice as a tea set we have