“The house isn’t in such great shape,” he said.
“How bad is it?”
“You won’t be here tonight, will you?”
“No. We were going to stop in Lindenhurst for the night. There’s a stable there for Paula.”
“Good. Take your time.”
Ally felt a chill of foreboding.
“Ally, I’m sorry about your parents,” Sam said.
“It’s okay. It’s best, really. Bye, Sam.” She closed the phone and looked at her grandmother.
“They’re not there.”
“Who, dear?”
“Mom and Dad. Lisa and Ross. There’s no one at the house.”
“The house?” Whatever sanity Granny Donny had found seemed to have faded away.
“The beach house? Remember? We’re going there?”
Granny Donny asked, incredulous, “Why would they be there?”
“Because you told me they would be,” Ally reminded Granny Donny.
“Yes, about that. I—” She stopped, searching for words.
Ally hadn’t ever seen her grandmother look so defeated. “Is something wrong?”
“Wrong? No. Of course not. Everything is fine. Let’s enjoy the rest of the ride. Let’s speak of balls and picnics and dukes with black hair and gray eyes!”
They stopped at a local park to rest Paula and eat a picnic lunch they had picked up along the way. After lunch, the dark pond beckoned, and Ally excused herself to walk to it.
It felt odd to suddenly be alone after so many days of being surrounded by people. She scooped a handful of pebbles and tossed them one by one into the water.
It was time for her to decide what to do next. Her grandmother had been showing small signs of becoming her old self all day, and it struck Ally as oddly sad.
My parents aren’t waiting for me.
The fantasy was over.
She grabbed another handful of pebbles.
It was time for her to let go of all her fantasies and get on with real life. That was what going to San Francisco was all about, and she had to turn her attention back to getting there.
She tossed a stone—her mother. It made a small splash, then sank.
Another—her father. Splash. Gone.
She held the last stone, turning it in her fingers. She felt numb. People don’t really change. It was ridiculous to think her parents would be there, waiting, living conventional lives. As absurd as thinking a lifelong rogue would settle down and love her just because he said he would.
She threw the last stone—Sam—just to see how it felt. It didn’t even make a splash before it disappeared.
It felt lousy.
She turned quickly and hurried back to the carriage, wondering, Are my fantasies all I have? All I ever had?
A man sometimes had to choose between looking good and doing good. The duke held his breath and chose doing good, despite the unfixable problem that made him look like less of a man.
—From The Dulcet Duke
Chapter 25
The carriage crossed the bridge to Fire Island five minutes after four o’clock the next day. Luckily, this bridge was small and untended, with no rules against horses, or, if there were rules, there wasn’t anyone for miles who cared about enforcing them.
As they got closer to the ocean, the smell of the sea and the beauty of the one-lane sandy road that led to Granny Donny’s house made Ally feel hopeful. This was real. This was facing her past. This was moving on with her life.
Granny Donny and I will have a lovely vacation, she promised herself. A beautiful summer. This was how she had wanted it, after all. Sam and Eloisa would leave. She’d find another housekeeper. Then Ally would take Granny Donny on long beach walks. They’d sit together on the porch, drinking lemonade and watching the waves. Here would be good. Granny Donny could live in the world she’d created, safe and well cared for in a beautiful place full of happy memories. How bad could the house be? Whatever was wrong with it could be fixed.
There was only one loose end to tie up.
“Mateo. Can we stop? Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Mateo pulled the coach to the side of the small road. He unhooked Paula’s water bucket from underneath and gave it to her.
“I’ll be right back, Granny Donny.”
Her grandmother waved her off. She looked preoccupied, but Ally wrote it off as nerves. It had been a long trip.
They stood by Paula’s head, and Ally stroked the mare’s silky nose. “Mateo. What would you think of staying out here with my grandmother? Let her buy Paula. Then you stick around to take care of her and be my grandmother’s private driver?”
“She’d buy Paula?” His interest was aroused.
“Sure. Why not? My grandmother has plenty of money. We’ll have to check the zoning. Probably keeping her at the house isn’t okay. But we could find somewhere nearby to board her.” Ally wrung her hands. It was too much to hope for a happy ending for everyone, but she could at least give one to the horse and Mateo. “I think my grandmother is getting better, Mateo. She’s showing signs of her old self. Just little ones. But I think taking the pills is making a difference. The doctors said it was possible.” She explained about the pills, and how she’d been making sure that Granny Donny was taking them. “So I’ve decided that if I can get everything set up here, I’m going to leave as soon as the summer is over.” Mateo looked surprised so she explained. “I had planned to move to San Francisco before all this happened, and now I realize I need to go.”
Mateo looked surprised. “San Francisco? What about Sam?”
“Sam?” A jolt of desire ran through her, but she repressed it. “I planned this move a long time ago. I have a job and an apartment set up in California. I had always planned on going. This has been a kind of good-bye trip.”
He nodded, taking in this new information. After a while, Mateo said, “We’d be honored to stay with your grandmother, Ally. Thank you. From both of us.”
They pulled into the driveway of the beachfront house. Sam came down the front porch steps to greet the carriage. His lips were set in a grim line. He looked so oddly serious, Ally almost didn’t recognize him. She tried to ignore the way her body sparked when he appeared, tried to hold down the urge to smile just because he was there.
Sam helped Granny Donny down from the carriage. There was paint on his shirt and sawdust in his hair. How odd. Ally looked around for Eloisa and wondered just what kind of hard work the two of them had been up to. At least Sam had all his clothes on. Eloisa, nowhere in sight, most likely didn’t.
“Ally, we need to talk,” Sam said.
Ally swung down from the carriage. His sternness puzzled her. Maybe Eloisa had been more than he could handle. Ally pulled her small travel bag from the carriage and took Granny Donny’s arm to help her navigate the rocky, crushed-shell-covered driveway to the house. Ally fought off the waves of nostalgia that were competing with her yearning for Sam. The smell of the sea was overwhelming in its power to take her back to her childhood. She felt a little shaky, and she wanted to fall into Sam’s arms for comfort. Instead, she squeezed her grandmother’s frail hand. Her grandmother squeezed back, with alarming strength.
“I know, dear. I know,” she whispered.
Sam took their bags, throwing them over one shoulder. He took Granny Donny’s other arm. Sam hadn’t smiled once.
Something didn’t look right about Sam.
Or Granny Donny, who kept stopping and looking at Ally as if she were trying to come to some kind of decision. Ally realized what it was about her grandmother that made her seem almost back to normal: She was noticing Ally in a way she hadn’t in weeks. She seemed tuned in—really tuned in—to what was happening around her.
And what was happening wasn’t good.
One shutter hung from a second-floor window. What looked like a faded, printed sheet hung in one of the windows downstairs. Her grandmother, a meticulous housekeeper in her day, had imported all the draperies from France and had
them washed every year at the end of the season. “What’s that smell?” Ally asked. A twinge of foreboding crept up Ally’s spine. Undercutting the sweet, salty smell of the sea was something sharp and piercing. It drifted in and out of range with the breeze.
Granny Donny didn’t seem to notice. “The smell of the sea,” she muttered. “It’s so strong. It’s—” She trailed off. Were there tears in her eyes?
“Well, it’s the smell of my youth, that’s for sure,” Sam said, still grim.
Mateo, who had been tending to Paula, caught up with them. He mumbled something and whistled softly.
Granny Donny straightened as she approached the two-story, blue-shingled square house.
Behind the house, the dunes rose up, and beyond them, Ally could hear the promise of the waves. In the front, two huge weeping willows and a few scraggly holly trees screened the porch, creating delicious shade. To either side, there were more trees and dunes, blocking out the neighbors’ houses almost completely. Ally had forgotten how much she had loved summers here before her parents left. She felt weak, undone by memories.
“Ally.” Sam’s urgent, commanding tone stopped her racing thoughts. “I think your grandmother might enjoy an iced tea on the porch with Mateo before she goes in.” He pointed to a tray set up on the porch with a pitcher and two tall glasses. A vase holding a bouquet of wildflowers sat in the middle of the tray.
“Where’s Eloisa?” Ally asked, trying to take it all in.
“No worries. Come, sit.” Sam put his hand on Mateo’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear.
Mateo whistled softly again and shook his head. “Si, Lady Donatella. Let’s sit and enjoy the shade.”
Had Sam scared off Eloisa? Of all the irresponsible—
The breeze blew her way again, and this time Ally knew what the smell was—marijuana. Of course she knew it from teaching school, but it had been so incongruous in this paradise, it hadn’t clicked. Then she noticed a pile of at least six huge black garbage bags just outside the front door and her stomach sank. “Granny, why don’t you sit and enjoy the breeze on the porch with Mateo? I’ll be right back.”
Granny Donny stared at the house, her mouth a determined line. “What happened to my house?”
They all stopped. Something was different about Granny Donny’s voice. It had lost its slight British inflection.
“Granny Donny?” Ally could barely hear her own voice.
“Oh, forget this blasted ruse! Who ruined my house?”
Was the old Granny Donny back? Or had she just slipped further away? “Granny Donny, do you feel okay?” Ally asked.
“No. I don’t feel okay. Last thing I knew, I was in Manhattan, in normal clothes, and now I’m standing in front of my house in a ridiculous dress, wondering what the hell is going on here.”
Ally tried to control her elation. “Do you know where you are?” she asked her grandmother.
“Well, I seem to be in Lewiston,” she said. “With two very beautiful men and very silly gloves.” She ripped off the elbow-length white gloves.
“What year is it?”
“Ally, what is the matter with you? I need a drink, and I’m not talking about iced tea.” She threw her bonnet on the ground and cursed it in a most unladylike fashion.
They all looked at one another, unsure how to proceed. Ally felt as if she had been caught playing an embarrassing game.
“Welcome back,” Mateo said.
“The house looks like shit.” Granny Donny scowled, marching to the porch. She climbed the steps and looked down at them, still mute on the driveway. “Well, c’mon, let’s you and me have some iced tea, young man. I feel a little woozy and could use the rest. Then we’ll drive that contraption of yours out to the liquor store for more appropriate supplies.”
They all still stared.
“C’mon, don’t be daft,” she said to Mateo. “Obviously these two want to ditch us to be alone.”
“Granny! Certainly not!” Ally bolted up the steps and hugged her grandmother. “It’s so good to have you back! How could I leave your side? There’s so much to talk about. I have so much to tell you.”
“Oh, please. I’m just an old bag of bones. Run off with that man. And don’t you dare come back until you’re good and ready.”
Ally’s mind was reeling. She felt like dancing, and at the same time, she felt inexplicably sad. Sam was watching her. As much as she wanted to stay glued to her grandmother’s side, she also wanted to talk to Sam and make things right. Mateo and Granny Donny sat down at the porch table, leaving Ally and Sam alone at the base of the steps.
“I think the house shocked her back into herself,” Ally said.
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Sam, I’m really sorry I was an idiot last night. If you want to be with Eloisa, I totally get that. Because I’ve been very confused and—”
“Pigheaded?” Sam suggested.
“Right.” She glanced up at him. He still hadn’t smiled, but at least he didn’t look as mad. “Where is Eloisa?”
“She split,” Sam said.
“Sam. You didn’t scare her away! We need her!”
“Come inside. I think you’ll understand.”
Gratitude is the most dangerous emotion for an unattached woman. There was so little she could give the duke in return other than herself. And that was a dangerous gift, indeed.
—From The Dulcet Duke
Chapter 26
Ally dropped her bag. Mateo’s and her grandmother’s voices from where they sat on the porch were oddly normal; they chatted away as if they were meeting each other for the first time.
Nothing else about the place was normal. Ally was speechless at the destruction around her.
“This actually looks pretty good. It was shagging well awful when we first got here,” Sam said.
The house was still pretty shagging well awful. It looked as if a punk band had trashed it. Ally fought back a mixture of anger and hopelessness.
“The bloke at Bart’s”—Sam named the local grocery and lottery ticket store—“told me what he knew, which wasn’t much. The real-estate management company that was meant to run the place, Grouse and Grouse, went out of business two years ago when Mr. and Mrs. Grouse retired and moved to Florida. I guess your grandmother didn’t read her mail or no one rang her or some unfortunate bollocks. The tenants who had been here moved on, and, from what I can read of the graffiti, Zed, Monica, and George—a bunch of effin’ pissheads—broke in and made themselves at home.”
“Zed, Monica, and George?” Ally could hardly find her voice. The house stank of pot and beer. Not only were her parents not here, but the house was wrecked.
“The three geniuses behind the punk band Blue Fish Rule.”
Punk rockers had wrecked the house.
Ally thought she might throw up. Her grandmother’s beautiful house was so ruined that the housekeeper fled in terror, despite Sam and his abs.
Well, at least now Ally wouldn’t have to fire her.
Ally moved through the rooms as if through a dream, touching the graffiti on the walls. Rock on! the wall up the beautiful old stairway read. Blue Fish Rule! shouted the wall in the dining room. F#%@ the power! screamed the ceiling.
They had to be kidding.
Everything of value—from the candlesticks on the mantel to the antique china—was either gone or smashed to bits.
Ally couldn’t get out any words. How was she going to show this to her grandmother? It wasn’t the house that upset her as much as what it represented: her past. Empty, destroyed, unlivable.
“I threw the blockheads and their groupies out when we got here. Scared the piss out of them. They backed down pretty quick. They won’t be back.” He paused, and when he started talking again, his voice had softened. “Of course, Eloisa won’t be back either. She said she didn’t sign on for hard labor. She called her brother and he was here to pick her up within an hour. She left a bill for two days.”
“Thank you, Sam,
for getting rid of the squatters.” Thank you, God, for getting rid of Eloisa.
“It was easy.” He shrugged. “Saw it on an episode of Crime Unit L.A. But I wish I had at least kept a few of the lads around. Ally, I’ve been trying all day to hire someone to come in here. The whole island is booked. High season, they all say. Can’t even get a Dumpster.”
Ally sank against the wall, then thought better of it. Too late. She separated herself from the sticky surface.
She had brought her grandmother to a dump.
How was she going to replace Eloisa if the whole island was booked? The fantasy paradise she had promised her grandmother was like the rest of her fantasies—over.
They could be back in Manhattan in two hours. But then they’d be right back where they’d started.
She looked at Sam. No. Eloisa had left, and he was still here.
Her heart was racing. “We need to find another house to stay in. Or a hotel.” She dreaded the thought of another hotel. She had thought they had arrived at something like home, but instead it was just another disappointment.
“About the hotels. It’s like trying to find workers. I tried like mad, Ally, but again, it’s high season. Everything is booked solid except for the places that are even scarier than this. You’d have to go back inland.”
“And then we might as well just go back to Manhattan.”
“If you want to be on the beach, this is it.”
“Then this is it.” The smell alone was enough to curl her hair. The molecules of Ally’s body were starting to come undone, shaking apart in a whirlwind of emotion. I can’t go back. I can’t stay here. She was going to spin into a million pieces. In front of Sam.
Sam’s hand tightened on her shoulder. “Ally, listen to me.” He turned her toward him. “Oh. You’re crying.” He dropped her shoulder and took a step back.
Was she?
She was.
She blinked back the tears and put on what she hoped was a solid, useful, can-do face. “I am not. I have sand in my eye. Stupid beach.” Her voice wasn’t as steady as she would have liked.
How to Tame a Modern Rogue Page 19