Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Isla

I flopped back on the big bed. Flopping back wasn’t accurate. The bed was so high off the ground, it had required a strategic launch for a proper flop. The lace canopy was intricately woven with tiny, winged angels and flowers. As sumptuous as the bed looked, between its carved mahogany posts and beneath its mountain of satiny pillows, the mattress was a little hard for my taste, like everything else in this uber-wealthy lifestyle.

Thankfully, the cocktail party had ended by the time Luke and I returned from our walk. The comforting, soft snorts and earthy, warm smells in the stables had helped me regain the composure that I’d embarrassingly lost. I had no idea why I’d reacted the way I had. Luke and I were not a couple. That plain fact was now settled firmly in my brain like a stubborn ring around the tub. Alexandria had been so extraordinarily gorgeous, and Luke had reacted as any man would when meeting someone like her. And I suppose, if I thought about it, I’d suffered a flash of jealousy. But it was gone now. I would make sure it stayed that way. I’d stick this out for the seven grand and then Lucas Greyson was free to do as he liked, even date the glorious Alexandria.

“Darn her and her glorious-ness,” I muttered. Apparently, a smidgen of jealousy was still lurking around. I would have gladly stayed in the outlandishly appointed bed, but dinner was being served promptly at eight, as I was told snootily by Amy, the assistant. She reminded me that while it wasn’t formal dress, shorts and T-shirts were discouraged. One thing was certain: I was getting a taste of the good life, and so far, it was as bitter as a spoonful of cocoa.

I slid off the bed, almost as if I was liquid. Once my feet hit solid floor, I regained my resolve to get through this weekend with my dignity intact and my heart tucked safely in my chest. (The seven grand in my bank account was a bonus.) After assuring several of the horses in the stables that they were indeed the prettiest horse on the planet, I’d reached just the right amount of horse flattery zen to rationalize my thoughts and emotions. I had one bad moment out on the path, but then I never expected Alexandria the Gorgeous to come gliding around the corner in her perfectly pedicured bare feet and designer dress.

The moment had strained my relationship or friendship or business partnership or whatever the heck it was called with Luke, and I intended to repair that by playing the part exactly right. I had three more days of smiling politely, and aside from that, I planned on just being myself. If the snooty-tooties didn’t like it, that was fine by me. On Sunday, I’d leave this ostentatious and, frankly, garish mansion and never look back. In a week’s time, all of this, Luke included, would just be a funny memory, a story I could tell my grandchildren over a bowl of buttery popcorn.

I could have easily refilled the tub with bubbly water again and soaked until my fingers turned to raisins, but I had to get dressed for dinner. And since shorts weren’t an option, I pulled out the dress Layla had tucked into my suitcase as I was busy filling it. It was an off-the-shoulder mid-thigh confection with a snug bodice and flouncy skirt. A bold pink floral pattern was splattered on a white background. It was a little snug on top, and I had to do a few maneuvers to get it zipped, but the full-length mirror was giving me a hearty nod of approval. “Well, done, little sis.”

I spritzed some perfume behind my ear. It wasn’t the thousand-dollar-a-bottle stuff that was polluting the air over the veranda, but I liked the fragrance. It was light and citrusy. I combed out my hair and tucked it behind my ears, then pushed in the diamond studs Ella lent me. I refreshed my makeup and checked the time. I didn’t want to be early or late. I was sure either of those things would earn a pernicious comment from Margaret or Amy. And even if that happened, I didn’t mind. I was going to be myself. I wasn’t going to pretend to fit in because that would be an impossible feat … thank goodness. I never wanted to fit in with that crowd. Most people envied this lifestyle, but I actually felt sorry for Luke having to grow up in it. I much preferred to be a member of the population who got excited when they found a cute dress at the second-hand store and who would stand in line in the hot sun to get a free cake at the coffee cart. Those were my people, and I planned to keep it that way.

I sat down for a quick bout of meditation; a relaxation technique Ava taught me after her trek through India. A knock on my door cut it short. But that was all right. I was feeling rested and ready for whatever Margaret Greyson threw at me.

I hurried to the door, hoping to find Luke on the other side. My disappointment was probably a little too obvious when it turned out to be Amy. She was holding a filled garment bag over her arm. She looked me up and down. “I dropped by to see if you needed a dress for tonight’s dinner.”

I held out my arms and spun around to show off the flirty skirt. “Nope, I’m ready and roarin’ to go. Which way to the mess hall?” I was done putting on airs and pretending to think their way was the right way.

Her nostrils flared with disapproval. “I suppose this will have to do.”

“Yep. I’ll be right down.” I closed the door before she could say anything else.

Amy’s unexpected intrusion made it necessary to go back to a few minutes of meditation. This time a text interrupted my quiet time. It was from Ella. I’d sent her a photo of the manor.

“This is like a fairy tale,” she commented.

“And there’s even a wicked stepmother,” I texted back.

She sent back a question mark.

“I’ll tell you all about it. I’ll need to relay the whole thing in person. Just won’t be the same through texts. Gotta go. Dinner is being served.” My stomach grumbled as I typed out the word dinner . Hopefully, the food would be more likable than the hostess.

A few wrong turns later, I ended up at the entrance to a cavernous room that I quickly deduced, by the long, polished table set with linens and fine crystal, was the dining room. I’d come to realize that, as luxurious as the house was, my taste did not line up with Mrs. Greyson’s. While I loved the pale teal paint on the walls, the brown floral printed wallpaper running along the top of the room made the otherwise light and airy room dark and gloomy. A carved marble mantel stretched and arched over a gaping fireplace on one side of the room. Three large portraits with Victorian women lined the opposite wall. One woman looked at least slightly quirky with her frilly parasol and pet cockatoo, but the other two, with their dour expressions, seemed to match the dark and gloomy wallpaper. Tall silver vases overflowed with wispy purple larkspur and long white roses. The table was so packed with plates, glassware and silverware, it was hard to find the wood beneath. Tall chairs of polished wood and red silk upholstery filled up every space around the table.

“You’ll be sitting over here.” I already recognized Amy’s dry, monotone voice. She marched across the floor like a robot and pointed to one of the chairs. The cardboard analogy was really working.

“Am I early?” I glanced at the ornate gold clock on the mantel. “I was told dinner was at eight.”

Amy rolled her lips in to tamp down a grin. “That’s right. You shut the door so quickly I wasn’t able to tell you that dinner had been moved to 8:30 to accommodate some guests who were running behind and needed more time to get ready. The Carltons. You might have met Alexandria.” She punctuated her comment with a grin. She pulled out the chair and motioned for me to sit.

“Yes, we met. Well, if I’m early, I think I’ll do a little exploring.” She looked disappointed. Apparently, she thought it would be a nice, deflating start to the evening for me to sit alone in the dining room well before anyone else arrived and the meal was served.

I turned and headed back toward one of my earlier wrong turns, where I’d discovered a library that was filled from floor to ceiling with books. I found the right door on the first try and did a little victory dance in my flouncy skirt before entering. The room was two stories high with bookshelves on each floor. The ceiling arched all the way across, and each arch was adorned with hand-painted green and gold leaves. Sage green wallpaper peered out between oak bookshelves. I was rethinking my assessment of Margaret’s taste. This room was truly beautiful.

My eyes swept the entire room. “Holy moly, this is something else.”

“Glad you like it. It’s the only room my daughter-in-law kept original.”

I gasped and spun around. An older woman with a magnificent plume of gray and white hair sat in one of the deep-seated, tufted armchairs. An open book lay face down on the round arm of the chair. She had on a black cashmere sweater topped with a simple gold chain.

“Are you lost?” she asked.

I could feel that darn blush creeping up. “Not exactly. I mean, I was, earlier. I was looking for the dining room and then I stumbled upon this room, and since they told me I was too early for dinner, I thought I’d come take a closer look at it. It’s just gorgeous. I’m Isla, by the way.”

“Oh, you’re Luke’s friend. Rachel told me he brought a date.” She smiled up at me. “Very pretty. So, they forgot to tell you about the time change for dinner, too, eh?”

“Yes.” I walked to one of the shelves and perused the titles. “What a collection! Are most of them first edition?”

“I think so. Lucas—my husband, Lucas,” she added with a starry-eyed look, “liked to collect first editions. Most of them were boring, lengthy tomes that I couldn’t be bothered to read.” She patted the book on the arm of the chair. “Nora Roberts. I think I’ve read this one before, but I’m still enjoying it.”

“You must be Hazel, Luke’s grandmother?” I pointed to the chair across the way.

She nodded and waved her hand. “Please.”

I sat down.

She crossed her slightly gnarled fingers on her lap. “Is it serious?”

I was taken aback by her question. I hadn’t really considered that I’d end up in a one-on-one with Luke’s beloved grandmother. I couldn’t lie to a grandmother, especially not one who already seemed nicer and more welcoming than everyone else.

“It’s all right. Rachel let me in on the secret. If my daughter-in-law would just allow Luke to find his own way in the world, they’d both be happier. He might even visit more often.” A sadness swept over her.

“You miss him, don’t you?” I asked.

“My son and his wife had little time for the children when they were growing up. The children helped fill the void, the hole in my heart, after losing Lucas. And I helped fill a void for them, too.”

I sat forward with both a smile and a tight throat. “Me, too. I mean, obviously I’m not filling a void for Luke. You’ve already figured that out, and I’m glad, because there is no way I could have lied to you. But cutting this ridiculously long, rambling speech short, my grandmother, Nonna, stepped in to fill a void, too. My mom died when my sisters and I were very young, and my dad traveled for work.” I rested back. It was the first time I felt relaxed in the house (other than the bubble bath). “It was so hard losing our mom. She was nothing short of perfect. But Nonna, she knew how to soothe the hurt and anger and loss we were feeling just by being there. And we were each so different, we handled our grief differently. Somehow, Nonna knew how to meet each of our unique needs.”

“She sounds wonderful. Is she still alive?”

I shook my head. “No, we lost her after my youngest sister graduated high school.” I sat forward with interest. “Please tell me about young Luke. What was he like?”

Her face lit up at this new topic. “He was my little prince. Oh, not that he wasn’t occasionally ornery or getting in trouble. He got kicked out of two boarding schools. The first time he got caught drinking beers with his friends behind the gymnasium, and the second time, well, that time he made me proud. The beer, not so much.”

A beaming smile lifted her entire face. No funny stretched lips or elevated eyebrows, just natural soft wrinkles and laugh lines, all the things that gave a person character.

“You were proud that he got kicked out of school?” I prodded.

“There was this horrible teacher, Mr. Edmonds. I’d had a few terse words with him during the children’s time at the school. He was harsh, and it was so apparent that he hated kids. I think he pursued a career in teaching just so he could be cruel to them. Edmonds was berating a boy about spelling too many words wrong in his essay. Called him an idiot in front of the whole class, and the boy was bawling by the time Edmonds was finished. So, Luke got up, marched straight up to the teacher, looked him dead in the eye and told him ‘There’s only one idiot in this class and it’s you.’”

I clapped once. “Bravo, Luke. Wish I’d been there to see that.”

“Me, too. Of course, Maggie had a meltdown when Luke got expelled. It was one of those ridiculously stuffy schools that took knowing someone, a large donation and good connections to get into. I don’t know why. I personally found the place lacking in many ways. Luke was relieved. They were out of good options for his school, other than sending him to an English boarding school. He ended up attending public school, and he was much happier.” Hazel laughed. “The stinker. I think he got kicked out on purpose. But most of the time, he was loving and laughing and caring, always caring.”

“I haven’t known him long, but I get a sense that his humanness, as my grandmother used to call it, runs deep and wide. Well, I suppose I’ll start making my way back to the dining room. I want to make a good impression. May I act as your escort?” I held out my arm for her.

“You go ahead. Since my daughter-in-law couldn’t be bothered to let me know dinner had been delayed, I think I’ll take my dinner in my room. I’m rather tired.” She laughed softly. “The weekend has just started, and I’m already up to here with it.” She tapped her forehead.

“It’s been wonderful talking to you.”

“You, too, Isla.”

I headed toward the door.

“I’m rather sorry this is all a ruse,” she said.

I looked back at her.

“I think you’d be good for my Luke. He’s great with business, knows exactly what he wants and what his priorities are. But when it comes to love, he’s been adrift for years. Enjoy the dinner, and don’t let my daughter-in-law ruin the meal. Gretchen is a wonderful chef.”

I patted my stomach. “Looking forward to the food. The conversation? Not so much. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Isla.”

I stepped out of the library and took a deep breath to brace myself for the dinner. I was sure the best part of my day and probably the entire weekend had just taken place behind me in the library.