Chapter
Seven
“Excuse me, miss.” The strange voice seemed to
come from someplace far away. Yet there was something insistent
about it that penetrated Laura’s consciousness.
She rolled over in bed and struggled to
throw off the heaviness of sleep. Her eyes focused with difficulty
on the elderly woman in a maid’s uniform walking past her bed,
carrying a tray laden with a coffee service.
“His Lordship asked me to bring you
coffee.” She set the tray on a table in the sitting area. “There’s
a basket of pastries on the tray as well. If you’re going horseback
riding this morning, you’ll be needing some food in your stomach.”
She turned back toward the bed. “If you want something more hearty,
breakfast will be served in the morning room.”
“No, thanks,” Laura mumbled, rousing
herself with an effort.
“As you wish, miss,” the maid
acknowledged and bustled from the room.
Laura remained in bed as the events of
the previous night came flooding back to her. The memories left her
with a heavy feeling. At the same time they hardened something
inside her. She threw off the covers, climbed out of bed, grabbed
the robe off the foot of the bed, and went directly to the
breakfast tray to pour herself that first, bracing cup of coffee.
If she felt any lingering sadness, she had pushed it deep
inside.
Dressed in riding breeches, boots, and
a long-sleeved blouse, Laura descended the stairs an hour later. A
black bow held her hair securely against the nape of her neck, and
she had a sweater tied around her waist in the event the morning
air was crisp.
The butler stepped into the entrance
hall and nodded a polite “good morning” to her. “A hot breakfast is
being served in the morning room, miss.”
“Will I find Sebastian
there?”
“No. I believe he’s at the stables,
miss.”
“How do I get there?”
Grizwold hesitated. “The route is a bit
confusing,” he began with a trace of uncertainty. “I have other
duties that require my immediate attention, or I would be happy to
show you the way. Perhaps it would be best if you waited out front.
His Lordship will be bringing the horses there
directly.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks.” Laura continued
to the front door and stepped into the sharp spring morning. It was
the first time she had ventured outside since their arrival. She
ran a glance over the ocher-colored walls of the massive country
manor.
It hadn’t been that many years ago when
her own house, The Homestead, had undergone a major restoration and
renovation that had encompassed everything from replacing weakened
support timbers and old electrical wiring to a new plumbing and
heating system, as well as the addition of two new wings. At the
time, her mother had remarked, “I swear it costs more to fix an old
house than it does to build a new one. We would have been dollars
ahead if we’d torn it down and started from scratch.”
By nature, her family was conservative.
It was a trait that had rubbed off on Laura, enabling her to
understand Sebastian’s situation, both current and future. But
understanding changed nothing.
The rhythmic cadence of trotting hooves
on brick pavement echoed through the morning air. Laura turned
toward the sound as Sebastian rounded the corner, astride a big,
bald-faced bay and leading an iron gray hunter. He flashed her that
familiar lazy smile, and her reaction to him was the same as it had
always been—a quickening of her pulse and a thrilling of her nerve
ends.
He slowed both horses to a walk and
halted near her. “This is unexpected. I thought I might have to pry
you away from your morning coffee.”
“You thought wrong,” Laura informed him
with a saucy look and stepped to the head of the gray horse. “This
is a beautiful boy.” The horse buried its velvety nose in her hand
and nuzzled her open palm. “Is he for me?”
“He is,” Sebastian confirmed. “Since
you are from the West, I took you at your word that you’re a
skilled horsewoman.”
“I am. If you can put a saddle on it, I
can ride it,” Laura stated without an ounce of brag. “What’s his
name?”
“Hannibal.” He passed the gray’s reins
to Laura and started to swing out of his saddle. “I’ll give you a
leg up.”
“I can manage.” For reasons of her own,
Laura wanted to avoid any physical contact with him just now. With
the reins looped over the gray’s neck, she grabbed hold of the flat
English saddle and stretched a toe into the iron stirrup and pulled
herself onto the saddle.
“I had to guess at the stirrup length,”
Sebastian warned.
“It’s almost right,” she said and went
to work shortening the stirrups by one more notch. “That’s the
advantage of an English saddle over a western one—it’s easy to
change from the saddle.”
“All set?” he asked when she had
finished.
“Ready and eager, I’d say,” Laura
replied as the gelding shifted restlessly under her and pushed at
the bit.
Sebastian pointed his horse down the
lane and set off. With reluctance, Laura’s mount settled into a
collected trot alongside him. A short distance from the house,
Sebastian swung his horse between two trees. A pasture stretched
before them, an open invitation for a gallop. Neither horse
required urging.
There was a sense of rightness to the
steady drum of hooves, the whip of the wind in her face, and the
feel of a horse beneath her that soothed and invigorated both at
the same time. Used to the limitless expanse of the Calder range,
Laura looked with regret at the low stone wall that marked the
pasture boundary. She followed suit when Sebastian checked his
mount to a canter.
“Want to jump the wall?” His eyes
sparkled with an unspoken dare.
“Do birds fly?” She shot a laughing
smile his direction and sent her horse toward the
wall.
Its gray ears pricked forward,
signaling its awareness of the obstacle before them. Laura readied
the gelding for the jump, felt the gathering of its haunches and
the adrenaline rush that came when they took to the air, sailing
over the low wall. They landed well clear and galloped
on.
Within seconds, she heard the pounding
hooves of Sebastian’s horse behind her. When he drew level with
her, he signaled for Laura to follow him. They galloped across
another pasture, jumped a brook and a wide gate, and arrived at a
narrow country road, empty of traffic. Both reined their horses
down to a walk.
“I needed that,” Laura declared and
released a contented sigh.
“I thought you might.” His glance made
an assessing study of her, noting the flush of excitement that gave
a glow to her face. “You looked a bit distracted earlier, as if
you’d hit a spot of heavy weather.”
“I’m never at my best first thing in
the morning,” Laura said, deliberately making light of his
observation.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” The hint of
intimacy in his twinkling eyes had its usual disturbing effect on
her. But along with the sensual rush she experienced, there was
also a pang that was anything but normal for her.
Other than allowing a small smile to
play across her lips, Laura made no reply to his comment and
focused instead on the cottage that fronted the road just ahead of
him. A milk cow emerged from a shedlike structure next to it,
followed by an older gentleman in boots and work
clothes.
“Good morning, Mr. Frohme,” Sebastian
greeted him. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Indeed it is, sir,” the man boomed,
his glance sliding curiously to Laura. “Certainly a fine one to be
taking your lady for a ride.”
Sebastian chuckled. “I wish she were my
lady.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to
retort, “It’s my money you want, not me.” But this wasn’t the time
or the place for that, so Laura smiled instead and said
nothing.
“Give my regards to your wife,”
Sebastian said to the man. “And I should warn you that Helen
mentioned she needs a fresh supply of honey, so I expect she’ll be
paying you a visit this weekend.”
“Home for the weekend, is she? The
missus and I will look forward to seeing her.”
“They raise honey, do they?” Laura
remarked idly after they had ridden past the cottage.
“The best in the Cotswolds,” Sebastian
confirmed, then smiled wryly. “Or, as Helen would say, the finest
from Frohme’s. She has a fondness for alliterative phrases.” After
only the smallest break, he continued, “There’s a lovely stretch of
river ahead of us. Shall we ride along it?”
“Sounds wonderful.” Both horses moved
into a trot.
Tara sailed into the sunny breakfast
room and cast a cheerful smile at the trio gathered around the
table. She was dressed simply in a silk blouse and tan slacks, but
it was the tasteful addition of jewelry that gave her the look of
country elegance.
“Good morning, all.” she said in
greeting.
Max had his face buried in the
financial section of the London Times. He
lowered it long enough to grunt a disinterested response, then
snapped it back into place. Boone simply nodded.
Helen was the only one to offer an
actual response. “Good morning. You slept well, I
hope.”
“I did indeed.” Tara confirmed and sat
down in the chair that the butler had readied for her. Immediately
he shook out the folded napkin and placed it across her lap. “Don’t
tell me I’m the last one up.”
“Not quite.” Finished with his
breakfast, Boone picked up his coffee cup. “Laura isn’t down
yet.”
“She isn’t?” Tara repeated in surprise.
“How odd. I heard her stirring about long before I ever got out of
bed.”
“I wonder where she is,” Boone mused,
his forehead creasing with a slight frown.
“Didn’t you know?” Helen gave him a
wide-eyed look of innocence. “She and Sebastian went riding this
morning.”
“No, I didn’t know,” he replied, his
mouth tightening with displeasure.
Max lowered the newspaper to glare at
Tara. “Didn’t you have a talk with her last night?”
“Yes, I—”
Boone never gave her an opportunity to
complete her sentence as he turned his hard gaze on Helen. “How
long have they been gone?”
“Perhaps a half to three-quarters of an
hour. Wouldn’t you say, Grizwold?” She looked to the butler for
confirmation.
“About that, yes ma’am.”
“Where would they have gone?” Boone
pressed for more information.
“I expect Sebastian would have probably
taken her riding over the countryside.” Helen buttered a slice of
toast and lifted a curious glance to him. “Why? Were you thinking
of joining them?” She instantly followed that question with
another. “Do you ride? Of course you do,” she said, shaking her
head in self-reproach. “For a minute I had forgotten you have a
ranch in Texas. I’m surprised Sebastian didn’t ask you to join
them.”
“I’m not,” Boone countered in a flat,
hard voice.
“That oversight is easily rectified,”
Helen assured him, a pleasant smile curving her lips. “If you like,
I can take you riding.”
“Do you think we could find Laura and
your brother?” he challenged.
Helen paused a moment to consider the
matter. “Springtime rather limits the routes he can take. Farmers
take a dim view of riders galloping across the crop fields,” she
explained. “I should say it’s likely we would come across them
somewhere.”
“Good.” Boone removed the napkin from
his lap and laid it on the table and pushed his chair back. “Let’s
go, then.”
Helen glanced at the butler. “Grizwold,
will you phone the stables and have two horses saddled for us while
I go up and change into my riding clothes?”
“Right away, ma’am.” He directed a
half-bow in her direction and left the room.
“It shouldn’t take me more than a few
minutes to change. By then the horses should be saddled,” she told
Boone. “Shall we meet in the front hall?”
“Fine,” he agreed, his impatience
showing at even this slight delay.
The angle of the sun’s rays created a
diamond sparkle on the river’s surface. Something rustled the
underbrush on the opposite bank. Laura’s gray hunter snorted and
stepped lightly, eyeing the area with suspicion. But the twittering
of a bird in the branches of a nearby tree seemed to offer
assurance that there was no danger lurking in the deep
shadows.
Just ahead of them the riverbank dipped
down to the water’s edge, forming a natural ford. Sebastian glanced
back at Laura. “We’ll stop here and give the horses a
drink.”
“All right.”
When they reached the flattened area,
Sebastian was first out of the saddle. He held the gray’s bridle
while Laura dismounted. Side by side, they led the horses to the
water and stood to one side while the animals lowered their noses
to the water.
“This is a restful spot, isn’t it?”
Sebastian let his gaze wander over the area before sliding it to
her.
“It is,” Laura agreed. “Beautiful and
serene.”
“It’s always been a favorite place of
mine. I used to come here often when I was a boy, just to get away
and be by myself, especially when Charlie and Helen teamed up to
razz me.”
“Who’s Charlie?” Laura asked, although
she was fairly certain she knew the answer.
“My older brother,” Sebastian replied.
“He was killed in a plane crash this past winter, along with his
wife Sarah and their three sons.”
Their thirst satisfied, the horses
lifted their heads, droplets of water falling from their muzzles.
Sebastian led his gelding to some grass. Immediately its head went
down and it started to graze.
Laura joined them with her mount.
“Three sons, that’s what you meant when you said something about
not expecting to inherit the title, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Sadness tinged the smiling crook
of his mouth. “Charlie had one more than the requisite heir and
spare. It’s still hard to walk into the house and not find it full
of their voices.”
“I imagine it is,” Laura agreed, not
without sympathy.
“And in England,” Sebastian continued,
“the tradition of primogeniture is still observed. Both the estate
and the title passed to me.”
“What did you do before you became the
earl of Crawford?” she asked, suddenly curious.
“In theory, I was a
solicitor.”
“In theory?” Laura repeated, amused by
his choice of words.
“I never had any great passion for the
profession of law. Therefore, I only dabbled in it when I had
nothing better to do,” he admitted without apology.
The frankness of his answer surprised a
laugh from her. “It sounds as though you were a
dilettante.”
“I expect I was. The modest income I
received from a trust fund my parents set up for me meant that I
wasn’t obliged to work.”
“That’s the second time you’ve used the
past tense,” Laura observed.
“Yes, well, responsibility has away of
forcing one to grow up, doesn’t it?” Sebastian countered, smiling
dryly. “And you, what will you do when your tour of Europe is
over?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
His smile widened into something lazy
and sexy. “I have the feeling we are two of a kind.”
So did she, which made it that much
more difficult to condemn him. Laura started to turn away, but his
hand checked her movement. He tucked a finger under her chin and
turned her face toward him.
“Is something wrong?” His eyes made a
thorough study of hers. “At times it can be difficult to tell what
you are thinking.”
Laura was deliberately uncommunicative
in her answer. “Tara would tell you it’s a wise woman who keeps a
man guessing.”
He smiled. “I expect she is an expert
at it, too.”
“You’re probably right.” She almost
laughed again. It made her wonder. “Have you always had this knack
for making people laugh?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only tried it with
you.”
“With me? Why?” Laura asked, puzzled by
his answer.
He moved fractionally closer, one hand
slipping to her waist and the other tucking a wayward strand of
hair behind her ear. “Mostly because much of the time you seem too
serious, too self-contained. I think I like to reassure myself that
you are human and not some beautiful goddess walking among us mere
mortals.”
The light touch of his hand, like his
nearness, only made her want more, as if it might somehow ease the
hurt she felt. “I’m no goddess.”
“Enchantress, then. Or
siren.”
“How about vamp?” Laura suggested with
an upward tilt of her head.
Sebastian responded with a small shake
of his head, his eyes narrowing in disagreement. “Too crass. That
is something no one could ever accuse you of being.”
“Thanks for the
compliment.”
“Don’t you know the truth doesn’t count
as a compliment?” he murmured, lowering his head to rub his mouth
over her cheek in a nuzzling fashion that had her heart skipping
beats.
She closed her eyes, conscious of both
the pleasure and the pain she felt. As much as she wanted to
surrender to his embrace, Laura had a greater need to confront him
with what she knew.
Without any preliminary, she said,
“Tara thinks you may have designs on my money.”
Sebastian never hesitated. “At the
moment I have designs on your virtue,” he said and proceeded to
nibble on her neck, igniting little shivers of excitement through
her body.
A part of her wanted to pretend she
hadn’t caught his failure to deny her accusation, but Laura
couldn’t do that. “You also want my money, don’t you?”
After a slight pause, Sebatian lifted
his head and met her gaze. “The truth?” he asked.
“That would be a change,” Laura
replied, her throat aching.
“I was attracted to you the moment we
met. Believe me, it had nothing to do with your bank balance,
considering I was completely unaware that you had
one.”
She believed him, as far as he went.
“But you did find out.”
“I did,” Sebastian admitted. “And it
seemed a bit like gilding the lily, as they say.”
Laura was suddenly and inexplicably
furious. She shoved his hands away and made a spinning turn. “Don’t
touch me.” Her low voice vibrated with the heat of her
anger.
But Sebastian paid no attention to the
warning in either her voice or her words as he caught hold of her
and pulled her back around. Laura lashed out immediately, swinging
the flat of her palm at his face. Sebastian captured her wrist
before it could reach its target.
“You said you wanted the truth,” he
reminded her, something like anger glittering his own
eyes.
“I didn’t expect you to be so
disgustingly cavalier about it.” Laura made one twisting attempt to
free her wrist, then ceased any struggle, pride keeping her rigid
in nonviolent resistance.
“What did you expect?” Sebastian
challenged, the hard light in his eyes changing to something
softer, more delving in its study of her. “Did you think I would
pretend that none of what you said was true? That I would insist I
had no interest at all in your money? You’re much too intelligent
to have believed that. Still you set this trap.”
“I set no trap for you,” she denied
with firmness.
“I don’t know what else you would call
it,” Sebastian countered, his expression smoothing with a new
certainty. “And I suspect you did it hoping to catch me in a lie.
It would have made it easier to despise me, wouldn’t
it?”
“I got what I wanted,” Laura insisted,
icy-hot in her regard of him. “An admission from you that you were
after my money.”
“That isn’t all I’m after. It never was
all.” He lowered her wrist and bent it behind her, forcing her
against his body. Laura remained stiff and unyielding, shutting her
mind to the warm heat radiating from him. “Don’t you know you are
the answer to any man’s prayer? And when I found out you were
wealthy, too, I thought you were the answer to my prayer. That
after the pain and grief of these last months, the fates were
finally going to smile on me.”
“Next, I suppose, you’ll be claiming
you’re in love with me.” Her expression was full of scorn, but
there was a big, empty ache in her chest.
“I don’t know what love is. Do you?”
The look in his eyes was serious enough that it gave her a moment’s
doubt. “I only know that I can’t seem to be around you without
wanting to touch you and hold you, and feel the heat of your body
against mine.”
“That’s lust.” Laura refused to attach
any importance to it.
“Maybe, but it’s something I would feel
whether you had money or not.” When he released her wrist, his
hands moved up her arms in a rubbing caress that kept her close to
him without force. “You feel it, too.”
“A skilled lover knows how to evoke a
response in a woman.”
“Is that how you reason away what
you’re feeling?” Sebastian countered.
Laura had a glimpse of something tender
and slightly mocking in his look before his mouth came down and
claimed her lips in a kiss that was warmly persuasive. If only she
weren’t hurting so much, if only she could hold on to that
righteous anger, she might have been able to hold on to her shield
of indifference. But Sebastian had deflected too much of her anger,
planted too many seeds of doubt, and she hurt too much. At the
moment, more than anything else, Laura wanted to forget—and his
arms promised that.
The moment she moved against him in
response, the flames leaped and need took hold. It pushed, turning
Laura into the aggressor, craving the salty taste of his skin and
aching to feel his muscled flesh beneath her hands.
Clothes became an irritating barrier
that were quickly discarded. When he sank to the ground beside her,
her hands reached to pull his hard, male body to her. Sebastian was
slow to react to their pull.
Laura saw he was about to say something
and ordered tightly, “Don’t talk. Not now.”
It was action she wanted, not words.
And he gave it to her, his hands and lips seemingly intent on
memorizing every inch of her, pushing her to the fever-pitch of
need. Then came that exquisite moment when he entered her and two
bodies moved as one, hips thrusting, pressure building. Release
came in a series of straining shudders that left them both
trembling and limp.
For a wordless second they lay on the
ground, still partially tangled together. Laura felt the slight
chill of the morning air against her bare skin. With its touch came
the coldness of reason. She rolled away from Sebastian and reached
for her clothes.
“Where do you get the strength to
move?” he wondered huskily. “You’ve stolen all of
mine.”
“Don’t talk,” Laura said again, and
went about putting on her clothes.
“What do you mean?” He sat upright, his
gaze boring into her.
“Exactly what I said.” She tucked her
shirt inside the waistband of her breeches and zipped them
up.
“We have to talk now.”
She didn’t have to look to know he was
frowning. “No, we don’t.” Laura pulled on one boot and reached for
the other. “Everything’s been said.”
“Laura . . .”
She felt the brush of his hand on her
arm and quickly stood up, made a half-turn to look down on him. “I
can’t trust your words any more than I can trust my feelings.” She
had never allowed emotions to rule her, and she wasn’t about to
start now.
“You aren’t making any sense—”
Sebastian began.
“Then let me say it more clearly.”
Laura was relieved to find her voice was steady and calm. “That was
good-bye.”
She saw the disbelief that clouded his
face. At the same instant, her finely tuned senses caught the drum
of muffled hoofbeats. She turned.
“Dammit, Laura, you—”
“I think you’d better get dressed,” she
cut in. “It looks like Helen and Boone are riding this
way.”
While Sebastian muttered a few choice
words under his breath and grabbed for his clothes, Laura set about
fixing her mussed hair, removing the confining band and bow,
finger-combing it into smoothness, and wrapping it once more at her
nape with the band.
As Laura refastened her bow in place,
Sebastian was struggling with his last boot. He managed to stamp
his foot into it mere seconds before Helen and Boone rode up.
Greeting them with a cheery wave, Laura walked forward to meet
them.
“Marvelous morning for a ride, isn’t
it?” Her breezy tone had Sebastian clamping his mouth shut in
irritation, convinced that nothing ever rattled that woman. She
either had nerves of steel or no feelings at all. He didn’t believe
the latter, so he chose the former.
“We’ve been looking for you,” Boone
stated, and Sebastian felt the rake of the man’s gaze as he moved
to Laura’s side.
Helen was quick to explain, “Mr. Frohme
told us that he thought you’d ridden this way.”
Laura reacted to neither comment as she
set her hands on her hips and surveyed Boone with amusement. “That
English saddle just isn’t your style at all, Boone. I’ve never seen
anyone look more out of place on it than you do. You really should
stick with western tack.”
“If they had any, I wouldn’t be riding
this flat thing.” He kicked free of the iron stirrups and jumped to
the ground, his attention still divided between the two. “Where
have you been?”
“Galloping madly across fields, jumping
walls and hedgerows,” she replied, seemingly oblivious to his
probing question. “It’s lucky you found us when you did. We were
just getting ready to mount up and ride on after stopping to give
the horses a drink. Now we can all ride together. Come on. You can
give me a leg up.”
Sebastian had a clear view of the
blatantly provocative look she tossed at Boone before turning away.
It cut through him like a knife. If he hadn’t just held her in his
arms, he would have called her a heartless bitch. He suspected the
truth was simply that she was a damned good actress who had total
control of her emotions. And judging from the combative light in
Boone’s eyes when he rode up, Sebastian suspected that if Laura had
adopted any other air than one of carefree unconcern, he and Boone
would be trading punches about now. Instead, Boone walked right
past him, following Laura to the horses.
When he started to turn to retrieve his
own horse, Helen caught his eye and signaled him to check his
cheek. Reaching up, he rubbed his fingers over the area. They came
away with a telltale smudge of coral-red lipstick on them. He fired
a wary glance at Boone, wondering how the smear had escaped his
notice.
Laura collected the gray’s reins,
conscious of Boone directly behind her. She turned the horse
around, confident that Boone would catch hold of the hunter’s
bridle. When he did, she automatically checked to make sure the
cinch hadn’t loosened.
“I didn’t expect you to go riding alone
with him.” Boone’s voice was low and heavy with
disapproval.
“Why ever not?” Laura countered in a
perfectly reasonable tone, then cast a knowing glance his way. “And
if you’re wondering whether Tara passed on your daddy’s message,
she did.”
“Then why does he have lipstick on his
cheek?” Boone challenged.
“I had to tell him good-bye, didn’t I?”
She gave him a twinkling look of mock innocence. “After all, I
couldn’t blame him for trying. That would be childish. Don’t you
agree?”
“I don’t have your tolerance for
fortune hunters.” And Boone didn’t pretend otherwise.
“I wouldn’t worry about it if I were
you. I’m not.” She stepped into his cupped hand and he boosted her
into the saddle.
Privately Laura couldn’t have been
happier that Boone had shown up when he did. It had spared her
further needless conversation with Sebastian. Her mind was made up.
Nothing he might have said would have changed it.
On the ride back to Crawford Hall,
Laura deliberately paired up with Boone. With her usual skill she
kept the conversation focused on unimportant topics. That wasn’t
difficult, considering none of the others seemed inclined to talk.
By the time the manor house loomed before them, she was beginning
to feel the strain of maintaining the facade that she was untouched
by all that had happened. Laura welcomed the chance to escape to
the privacy of her room even for a few minutes.
But it wasn’t to be.
She had barely set foot inside the
front door when Tara’s voice summoned her from a nearby room.
“Laura, is that you? Your brother’s on the phone. He wants to talk
to you.”
“Coming,” Laura answered, and threw a
questioning glance at Sebastian.
“I think they’re in the front parlor.”
He pointed her toward it.
When she entered the formal parlor,
Tara rose from a velvet-covered sofa, a cell phone to her ear.
“Here she is now, Trey,” she said into the mouthpiece, then passed
the phone to Laura.
She lifted it to her ear and said, “Hi.
What’s up?”
“Don’t you ever carry your cell phone
with you?”
Laura smiled at the comforting sound of
her twin brother’s voice, conscious of her tension
unraveling.
“Only when I choose to,” she
admitted.
“That’s what I thought,” Trey replied
with an undertone of censure.
“So what’s new at the ranch?” Laura
asked and followed it up with a quick, “How’s Quint getting
along?”
“That’s why I’m calling,” Trey replied.
“Aunt Cat is flying him home on Tuesday. We’re going to have a big
welcome-home bash for him on Wednesday. ’Course it won’t be quite
complete without you here.”
“Wednesday, you say.” Strange as it
sounded, even to herself, Laura suddenly had no great desire to
continue this European tour. “Hold on a second.” She lightly cupped
a hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Tara. “Quint’s coming
home. They’re throwing a big party for him on Wednesday. You
wouldn’t mind if we cut our trip short and flew back for it, would
you?”
The request took Tara by surprise. “If
that’s what you want—” she began.
Laura deliberately didn’t wait to hear
more. “We’ll fly home on Monday,” she told Trey.
There was an instant of silence. “Are
you serious?”
“Of course.”
“Is something wrong, Sis?” Trey asked,
and Laura knew that sixth sense they shared was at work
again.
She managed a convincing laugh. “Don’t
be silly. I wouldn’t miss this party for the world. It’ll be the
highlight of the year at the Triple C.”
When she finally rang off, Tara stared
at her in disbelief. “You don’t really intend to fly home on
Monday, do you?”
“Why not?” Laura
countered.
“We left half our clothes at the hotel
in London. Do you realize how much packing we’ll have to do before
we leave?”
“Then we’d better get at it, hadn’t
we?” Laura said as Max wheeled his chair into the
room.
“Get at what?” he demanded, splitting
his attention between the two of them.
“Tara will explain,” Laura told him.
“I’m going up and start packing.”