Tanzy patted him on the back. “Was it the visual that put you over the edge?”
Riley just nodded, having to wipe his eyes. “And if you tell her I laughed, I’ll torture you.”
Tanzy wiggled her eyebrows. “Define torture.”
Riley kissed her. Suddenly, hard and fast. Then he framed her face in his hands. “The hell with it. I didn’t want you to feel obligated. Because of how we spent most of the past few hours. Or because I’m involved with this SoulM8 thing. Or even because I’ve bonded with your great-aunt over sports. And I don’t want you to assign some huge meaning to this because it’s the holiday, but—”
She couldn’t wait another second. She kissed him. Only it wasn’t hard and fast. It was slow, and gentle, and sweet. It was the kind of kiss she didn’t give. Ever. Because slow, sweet kisses led to things, led to expectations. But it was too late to worry about that. Because she had expectations already. And spending Christmas with him was just the beginning of them. And no matter what he said about not assigning special meaning to this, the look in his eyes said otherwise.
“That was a yes. In case you were wondering.” She laughed and allowed herself to soak up the moment. His eyes were shining, he was smiling, and she thought she might be falling in love. It was definitely a moment to remember. To tuck away for the future. When she might need it.
Refusing to allow any negative thoughts to creep in, she bussed him again, this time loudly and briefly. “Now I have to go downstairs to my great-aunt, aka Ol’ Eagle Eye, looking like a woman who has been thoroughly kissed and, what’s more, thoroughly enjoyed it.”
Riley helped her slide off his lap. “I’m pretty sure, given my state of undress when she arrived, that she’s figured out we’ve done a whole lot more than that.”
Now Tanzy flushed, even as she grinned. “True. And then there’s this silly grin I can’t seem to wipe off my face.”
Riley winked at her before turning back to the computer. “I know the feeling.”
Tanzy swore she floated down the stairs. Why had she resisted this falling in love business for so long? Had her mother’s foibles really jaded her so badly? Or was it her best friends’ less than perfect marriages? She wasn’t sure. And at the moment, she didn’t care.
Maybe it was simply because she hadn’t met Riley yet.
Which reminded her. She owed Millicent a hug for parking them both under the same roof. Tanzy hated to think it of herself, but it was probably true that had she not been forced to get to know him first, to live with him, deal with him, this never would have happened.
“In here, dear,” Millicent called from the front room.
Tanzy slowed down so she wouldn’t skip into the room, tried to tame her smile down to a reasonable glow.
“I wasn’t sure where to put the tray. I hope you don’t mind, I rearranged a few things on the coffee table.”
“Not a problem,” she said, entering the room to find Millicent staring at one of the employee-list pages J.B. had delivered.
Millicent didn’t bother to look up, much less look remotely abashed for her snooping. “I take it these are the employment lists from the Internet provider you use?”
“Yes. All women, as you can see. Not as helpful as we’d hoped. We’re going to cross-check them with the lists from the Crystal Ball anyway, see what we come up with.”
Millicent lowered her monocle and slid the paper back with the rest of the stack. She started pouring the tea. “You haven’t decorated for the holidays,” she said, as if they hadn’t just been discussing a stalker.
“Haven’t had time,” Tanzy lied. She wasn’t much for holiday decorating, Christmas or otherwise. “You really outdid yourself this year, though.”
“Thank you, dear,” Millicent said, not distracted for one minute. “You know, a tree would look lovely in that corner right there. Perhaps when Riley’s knee is better, you two should head out and get one.”
“Great idea.” Tanzy silently groaned, but reminded herself that Millicent rarely visited, so she’d never know if they followed through or not. She didn’t bother telling her she had no ornaments to put on the thing even if they did get one. “So, what brings you here today?”
But Millicent wasn’t ready to move on quite yet. “He’s quite an interesting young man, your Riley.”
Tanzy opened her mouth to automatically refute her implication, then closed it again.
“Well, well,” Millicent said, adding sugar to Tanzy’s cup before handing it to her. There was nary a wobble of china on china. Nor was there a wobble in Millicent’s unwavering stare. “I’m glad to see you kept your mother’s tea set,” she mentioned as Tanzy took her cup and saucer. “It was her mother’s, you know. Though I don’t imagine it gets much use by this generation, either.”
No point in lying her way out of this one. “Once or twice, when I’ve had guests, but mostly it just gives me a reason to keep that corner hutch in my kitchen.”
“Any word from Penelope of late?”
“No,” Tanzy said, taking a sip, wishing they were still talking about Christmas trees now. “I’m sure that’s for the best.”
Millicent sighed and stirred her own cup. “Yes, I imagine you’re right.”
That had Tanzy pausing midsip. “I always thought you hoped we’d mend fences. Or that I’d force more of a relationship between us.”
“Years ago, perhaps. You’ve never said what went on when the two of you got together all those summers ago, but I suppose I can fill in the blanks well enough. It’s why I’ve never brought it up since.” She gave her tea a final stir and leaned over to pat Tanzy’s knee. “Mostly I worried that you’d let her set a bad example for you. That her wanderlust and irresponsibility would keep you from finding your own happiness. And, until today, I believed she had.”
“It goes a lot deeper than wanderlust, Aunt Millicent.” Then the rest of what her great-aunt had said sunk in. “As for Riley, well, I won’t deny that I’ve developed . . . feelings for him.”
Millicent’s smile lit her entire face. “Yes, dear. It’s quite obvious. And wonderful, too. I didn’t think I’d ever see that particular light brighten your lovely face.”
Tanzy felt the slight sting at the backs of her eyes. Again with the tears! These wobbly emotions were sandbagging her out of nowhere. This part of falling in love she could do without, thanks. She went back to sipping her tea, but eventually she couldn’t hide behind her cup any longer. She started to speak, stopped, then finally sighed.
“What is it, dear?” Millicent lowered her cup as well.
“I’ve been perfectly happy alone, Aunt Millicent. I mean, yes, I’m enjoying Riley’s company. I might even . . . well, I might even feel more than joy. But I was okay before him. I’ll be okay after.” Even as she said it, she didn’t want to think about it. The after part. “I enjoy being with him, more than I ever thought possible. But I don’t need him to make me a whole, happy person. I figured you of all people would understand that and not worry about me. You’re whole, happy, fulfilled, and you’ve never married.”
Millicent surprised her by shaking her head. “That’s not true, I’m afraid.” Her smile faded on a wistful sigh and she absently stirred her tea. “I was married. Once. Far too briefly. Long before you were born.”
Tanzy couldn’t have been more floored. Her spoon clattered to her saucer.
Millicent looked fondly at her. “I guess it’s a day for shattering old beliefs, hmm?” She shook her head. “I suppose I never told you because it happened so long ago.” She lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug. “Or perhaps I simply didn’t want to share what is still, surprisingly, a bittersweet memory.” She sighed, looked away, and Tanzy thought there might have been a shine of tears in her eyes. “He was the love of my life.”
“You don’t have to talk about it now.”
Millicent slid her lace hanky from her sleeve and dabbed at the corner of her eye. “No, it’s all right. I know it’s silly, but for all the years he’
s been gone, it still feels like yesterday when I let myself think about it.” She sniffed, then smiled through watery eyes. “I sometimes have the fantastical notion that he’ll come walking through the front door, so proud and tall in his uniform, and inform me it was all a big mistake, he hadn’t been shot down after all.” She dabbed her eyes again, then sighed and looked back to Tanzy. “I’m sorry, I feel as if I’ve helped to steer you down this path, and it was never my intention. I suppose I should have realized—”
Tanzy leaned forward, covered her great-aunt’s hand with hers. “Please, don’t. We all make our own choices. And I respect yours. I’m glad you told me, because I love you and it makes me feel good, knowing you had something that powerful in your life. Thank you for sharing with me now.”
Millicent sniffed again, dabbed again. “Yes, well, perhaps we share things when it’s time to share them. And I agree with you, it’s good to be healthy and whole, to be your own person. I’m proud of you, of the life you’ve built for yourself.” Now she covered Tanzy’s hand with her own. “But, darling, sharing that life, the good moments and the bad, the triumphs and the defeats, with someone you love . . .” She trailed off with a little sigh. “Well, you said it. It’s quite powerful stuff. Magnifies the pleasures tenfold, and makes the lumps a bit easier to take.”
Tanzy sniffed a little herself, wishing things had been different for Millicent. “And all this time, you never remarried,” she murmured, then looked up. “But your last name—”
After a final dab, Millicent picked up her saucer again, composed once more. “In my heart, I’m still Mrs. Jack Bingham. But I reverted back to my maiden name after your grandfather died. I was the only one left to carry on the family foundations and such. And in those days, with the various laws and legalities, well, it was simply . . . easier.”
But Tanzy saw that it had been anything but. Forsaking the name of the man she’d loved. Still loved. “I’m sure he’d be proud of all you’ve done.”
Millicent smiled then, and her face glowed once again. “Thank you, dear. I’d like to think so. The odd thing is, I’d have likely walked away from it all, settled for some small house on a naval base somewhere, and raised a patch of babies, if he’d only come back to me.”
Tanzy smiled, then dared a little laugh. “No, you wouldn’t have. Even if Grandpapa had lived, he would have mismanaged things and that would have driven you crazy. You’d have been knee deep in the Harrington holdings long before he died, and you know it.”
Millicent smiled herself. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps.”
Since they’d come this far, Tanzy dared another question. “Do you regret not having children?”
Now her great-aunt’s smile was wide and instantaneous. “Why no, dear. I had you, didn’t I?”
Tanzy flushed instantly, with pleasure. “Why of course you did.” And she wondered if Millicent knew what a godsend she’d been to a child set adrift by her only parent, despite her grandniece’s outgoing personality. “But you only got me when I was home from boarding school.”
“And enjoyed every moment of it.”
Tanzy laughed again. “I seem to recall differently.”
“That’s the wonderful thing about memories, dear. You pick and choose the ones you want to keep.”
Tanzy uncurled her legs and stood, then leaned over and kissed Millicent’s feathery cheek. “Well, I have bunches of them,” she said softly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I don’t tell you often enough, but I owe you a great deal. You kept me sane and made sure I was happy. I always knew I could count on you. It made the difference, you know. All the difference.” Now her eyes were watering up again.
Millicent sniffed as well. “Well,” she said, half smiling, half laughing. “Aren’t we a pair?”
“Yes,” Tanzy said with a broad grin, settling herself once again on the futon couch. “And a formidable one, at that. We’re Harringtons, after all. Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to talk to you. About the charity ball—”
“I’m still so dreadfully sorry to have put you in the public eye like that, make you so obvious a target—”
Tanzy waved a hand. “Please, Aunt Millicent. He’d have found another way, so please don’t beat yourself up. What I wanted to talk about was, well, maybe I’d like to get involved. On a minor scale, that is. With the family foundations. If there is something I could do to help you. I . . . enjoyed handing out those scholarships, felt proud to be a part of it, and I guess a little bit like a fraud, seeing as I haven’t been directly involved.” She let out a short laugh. “Involved, period.”
Millicent’s face lit up. “I’d be delighted to have some assistance, but only if you feel you truly want to be involved. I’ve never pushed you and I never will. I’ve made sure, as I’ve gotten older, to put our many interests in as good hands as possible. You needn’t worry about them, you know. Naturally, you’ll be the one I leave it all to when I go, but you’ll have little to do if that’s how you choose to handle it. I know you have no need of the income, so I’ve had the bulk of it put directly back into the various foundations. You can change that, naturally. All I want is for a Harrington to maintain overall directorship.”
Tanzy didn’t know what to say. It was exactly what she’d wanted to hear, and settled a goodly amount of the concerns she’d managed to bury for lo these many years. “Thank you, Aunt Millicent,” she said, never more sincere. “I won’t let you down. And I would like to be more involved. Maybe not dive in headfirst, but rather wade in. Slowly,” she warned when her great-aunt’s eyes began to twinkle.
“Yes, dear,” was all Millicent said.
Tanzy swallowed hard, silently wondering just how many foundations she’d be running a year from now.
“I suppose we should discuss the reason I came here today,” Millicent said. “It’s about the baby shower for your friend Mariel.”
“If you’d really rather we don’t have it at the house, it’s not a problem.” Although, seeing as it was two days from now, well, she didn’t want to be the one to tell Sue.
Millicent waved a heavily ringed hand. “Nonsense. I’m more than happy to have them. It will do Big Harry good to have his walls ring with the laughter and joy surrounding the coming of a new life.”
Tanzy had been sighing in relief, so she almost choked on her tea at that last part.
“What,” Millicent said, lowering a look at Tanzy over the rim of her teacup. “Just because I didn’t have any of my own—”
“Not that,” Tanzy managed to choke out. “I—I wasn’t aware you knew—”
“Oh!” Millicent laughed. “That. Surely you didn’t think I was unaware of the moniker you bestowed on Harrington House.” Then she smiled somewhat slyly. “I’ve rather liked it, have privately thought of it that way for years.”
Well, well, Tanzy thought, it was a day for revelations indeed. “Thank you for letting us have the party there. Is there a problem, though?”
“Oh, not at all. I’ve been corresponding with Sue—”
“You have?”
“Oh yes. We’ve been faxing and scanning and emailing our little hearts out. She called one afternoon earlier this week, asking after you. I suppose she hadn’t gotten the word that you’d moved back home. We got to talking about her decoration scheme, which is really quite inspired, and I offered a few ideas of my own.”
“You did.”
“Oh my yes. We’ve been like two bees in a bonnet ever since. Buzzing, buzzing.”
Tanzy didn’t doubt it. Like Millicent, Sue also had MSS. Martha Stewart Syndrome.
“I hope you don’t mind. We’ve quite commandeered this entire party.”
Tanzy waved a hand. “Please, by all means, commandeer away.”
“Well, now that that’s all settled, I’d also hoped to borrow Riley for a spell. This time of year, it’s all but impossible to hire anyone at the last moment. Sue’s dear husband, Paul, is coming by a bit later to help as well. We need to move
some furniture before the decorators come in to redo the room.”
Tanzy opened her mouth to ask why in the world she was having the entire room redone for a party that was only going to last several hours, but wisely stopped herself at the last second. “You’ll have to ask Riley. With his knee—”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about that. You see, I’d planned to discuss it with him when I arrived, but he wasn’t in his vehicle, so I assumed he was in here with you and thought to take care of both little tasks at the same time.” She set her saucer down and stood, smoothing her skirt. “I’m really glad I did,” she said sincerely. “I’ve enjoyed our little talk immensely.”
Tanzy stood and stepped around the coffee table to give Millicent a hug. Her great-aunt felt both sturdy and frail, and Tanzy felt tears gather behind her eyes again at the thought that she really wouldn’t be here for her forever. She supposed she’d never quite believed it possible. “Thank you,” she whispered. “For sharing with me, for . . . well, for all of it.”
Millicent patted her back as they stepped apart. “Thank you, too,” she said, her eyes a bit overly bright as well. “For everything.” She sniffed and turned, walking to the hall and glancing up the stairs. “I don’t suppose he’s coming down anytime soon.”
Tanzy followed her out into the hall. “I can run up and get him. He might be asleep.” Or still at the computer, most likely. But she really didn’t want to take the conversation back in that direction.
“Don’t bother. Just have him ring me up when he can. If he’s up to it, we’d love to have another pair of strong hands.” She lifted her monocle and looked at Tanzy. “Though I suspect his powers of recovery will be swift.”
Tanzy blushed, but was glad to have Millicent ornery and at her most intimidating once again. “I’ll have him call you.”
“Wainwright is out front, so no need to see me out.”
But when Millicent turned for the front door, Tanzy put her hand on her great-aunt’s arm.
“Wait. Riley’s Rules, remember?” Tanzy sighed and raced up the stairs.
The Big Bad Wolf Tells All Page 26