by Karen Welch
A little table near her chaise bore a plate of biscuits, a pitcher and two glasses. He took up the sweating pitcher and filled a tall glass. The only seat close by was a low bench and he eased himself across from her, grateful that his position gave him the advantage of seeing without being seen. Peg had changed into shorts and a simple sleeveless blouse covered in tiny flowers. Caught in the light from the window, her long legs were crossed gracefully on the chaise, while the rest of her remained cloaked in soft shadow. He held his breath for a moment, drinking in the sight before chuckling at her greeting.
“You do look relaxed.”
“It’s been a long day. And I love having my hair washed. The music helped too. It sounded sad.”
“Bruch. Not sad, just meditative. I must say, you have an awful lot of hair. It’s quite amazing to see it hanging loose like that.”
“I’ve never really cut it. I will, I’m sure, someday. It’s an awful lot of trouble.” With one slender arm, she reached back to touch the trailing waves.
“I don’t remember it curling up like that when you were younger.”
“It only does this when it’s first washed. A few days in braids and it’ll straighten out.”
“I quite like it this way.” He hadn’t intended for the comment to sound so awed, but at just that moment she sat up, shaking her head and sending a cascade around her shoulders.
“Thank you. No one ever sees it like this. It’s not at all fashionable to go around with your hair hanging down to your waist. Connie makes fun of me.”
“Connie clearly has no eye for beauty.”
Peg laughed softly. “That’s another compliment, isn’t it?
“Yes, I admit it. You seem to drag them out of me. Especially when you look like you do just now.” He was making love to her with his eyes, stroking those satiny legs and burying his face in her hair. Fortunately, his face was concealed by darkness, but his wretched voice was another matter entirely. He cleared his throat in an effort to gain control, the very thing he’d so arrogantly vowed to maintain in her presence.
“Kendall, are you flirting with me now?”
“I’m afraid so. Perhaps it’s the effects of this lemonade.”
She laughed again. “I thought maybe it was because of what happened upstairs.” She sat forward, hugging her knees and bringing her face into the light. “I probably owe you an apology. I got very carried away. I don’t suppose a nice girl does that to a man, does she? Maybe now you don’t think I’m a nice girl?”
“On the contrary. I think you’re extremely nice, just a bit impulsive. I thought we agreed to forget what happened up there.”
Sitting cross-legged on the foot of the chaise, Peg gathered her hair beneath one ear and began twisting it into a loose braid. Mesmerized by the deft motion of her fingers through the gleaming chestnut lengths, he lost the train of their conversation until she said with a sigh, “I don’t really want to forget it though. It was very nice. I liked it a lot, you know.”
Setting aside his glass, he leaned forward. “I’ll tell you a little secret. I liked it, too. Far more than I should have.”
“I still don’t quite understand what’s wrong with it. I’ve been sitting here thinking about it and I know you’re trying to be a gentleman, but if I want you to kiss me, why shouldn’t you? Other boys have tried to and I said no, but I would never say no to you. I like you.” The fact that she was looking him straight in the eye with the most earnest of expressions sent a thrill pulsing through his chest.
“And I like you, Peg. You make it very difficult to argue with that sort of logic. But I must remind you that we’re hardly two ordinary people. My mother is married to your uncle. I’m a guest in your father’s house. Then there’s the fact that I’m a good bit older and more experienced and therefore the one who would be held responsible should anyone disapprove of our interest in one another.”
“I’d take the blame, if anyone got upset. I’m not a child, you know.” She twisted her lips in a pout, her eyes glittering. “And maybe your mother wouldn’t approve, but I’m pretty sure I could make Dad see there’s nothing wrong with our being friends. Especially if I tell him how much I enjoy your company and how protective of me you are.”
“Have you ever lost an argument, brat? Your skills at debate are commendable. I’ll be damned if I can come up with any reason not to follow you into the nearest cupboard whenever possible when you put it like that.” He took a deep breath, watching as she finished off the braid with a scrap of ribbon, blue like the ones on she’d worn that day in Ireland, when she had been a child and he had first been overwhelmed with his unexplainable attachment to her. “But seriously, there must be rules in this friendship. And you must abide by them. No more attacking me when my guard is down and dragging me into cupboards the way you did tonight.”
She frowned, tossing the braid over her shoulder. “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not really. And it was a closet, not a cupboard. You’re in New York now. But if you agree to stop lecturing me, I’ll agree to a little more restraint. How’s that?”
“A little more? Is that the best you can do?”
She nodded solemnly. “I think so.”
“Ah. Well, at least I’ve been warned.” He took her hand, studying it for a moment in the light. “You realize you’re compromising all of my principles? I was determined to keep you at arm’s length.”
The frown deepened. “Why were you determined to keep me at arm’s length?”
“Because I’m not the man for you, Peg. I never will be. As long as we keep that in mind and stay within the bounds of friendship, I suppose we can allow ourselves to enjoy one another a bit.”
“I promise I won’t fall in love with you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I may have a little crush on you, though. I think I have ever since that summer in Ireland. Does that sound ridiculous to you, that a fifteen-year-old girl could have feelings like that for a grown man?”
“No, brat, not ridiculous at all. If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll confess to something myself.” Clasping her hand between his palms, he touched her fingertips to his lips.
“What’s that?”
“I think I’ve had a crush on you too. And I’m pretty sure that does sound ridiculous.” When he released her hand and reached for her, she slid to the edge of the chaise, opening her arms. Shrouded in darkness now, he gathered her close, not passionately but tenderly, sensing something soft and needy in her as she hugged him tightly. “Promise me something else?”
“Yes?”
“You’ll never cut your hair. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as you with your hair flowing around your shoulders.” He nuzzled her neck, pressing his cheek to the soft, slightly damp skin. “Peg Shannon, you’re making a fool of me, you know?”
“Are you sorry?”
“Not at all. At least, not tonight.”
Chapter Sixteen
Mass at St. Patrick’s Cathedral and lunch at Tavern on the Green, an afternoon of sightseeing by car and an evening of chamber music at Carnegie Hall, and by the time the party returned to the brownstone for a late supper, Kendall was ready to explode. All day Peg had shown him first one side and then another of her intriguing self. Devout Catholic, devoted daughter, knowledgeable New Yorker and engaged music lover, all wrapped in a package of fashionable and utterly engaging femininity, not once available for more than a brief word and a few discreet moments of flirtatious hand holding. There had been that one instant, in the darkness of the concert hall, when she slinked her hand beneath his where it rested on his knee. She’d flashed a smile that seemed to say she was reading his thoughts, which at that point turned to searching out the first available cupboard and dragging her inside where he would commit the unspeakable without a fig for what anyone thought. If she were truly as innocent as she seemed at times, there were other times when he could have sworn she was toying with him, skillfully tempting and teasing until he dropped to his knees begging for just one of those in
comparable kisses.
When Michael announced at eleven o’clock that his day was done, the rest of them could do what they liked, but he was going to bed, the party dispersed, leaving Kendall at last alone with Peg—and his mother—in the dining room.
“Well, dear, we certainly enjoyed our day. Didn’t we, Kendall?” Patting Peg’s hand fondly, Eloise seemed to be settling in for a rehashing of the past twelve hours. “I was so impressed with your knowledge of this city’s history, you know. I suppose just out of school, it must all be fresh in your mind. And now you’ll be going to college here, too.”
“Yes, ma’am. I wanted to stay close to home. I love New York.”
“That’s obvious. Kendall feels much the same about London, I’m sure, having lived most of his life there, other than his time in Oxford, of course.”
What was she doing, trying to point up the difference in their ages, of all things? Afraid to be the first to suggest they call it a night and risk being dismissed, he sat silently gnashing his teeth. All day Eloise had seemed to pop up at his elbow, interrupting his attempts at conversation and insisting on sitting next to him wherever they went. She made him feel like a schoolboy who bore watching, her gaze following him if he dared leave her side. That she had chosen today to wrestle him back beneath her maternal wing was not a coincidence, he felt sure. The sight of Peg sitting right across the table, and completely out of reach, only heightened his annoyance with his mother.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Eloise, but before I fall asleep right here, I need to check with Mrs. Leary about something. Will you excuse me?” Peg got to her feet, graciously discharging his mother with a glowing smile and a nod toward the door. “Kendall, would you mind giving me a hand with the lights? I’m sure Adamson has already gone to bed.”
He blinked stupidly, having observed Adamson lurking beyond the doorway in the butler’s pantry not ten minutes earlier. But Eloise, with her back to the door, wouldn’t know that. “Lights? Of course, I’d be happy to.” On his feet in an instant, he dropped a kiss on his mother’s cheek as he passed her chair. “Good night, Mum. Pleasant dreams.”
Peg, already on her way to the kitchen, glanced over her shoulder with a polite smile. “I really appreciate the help. I know you must be exhausted. It’s been a very busy day, hasn’t it?”
“Very.” He peered back to see Eloise beginning her climb up the stairs. Lengthening his stride, he caught up to Peg and said under his breath. “Very smooth, young lady. Do you really have business with Mrs. Leary?”
“Of course not. She went to bed an hour ago. I wouldn’t dare bother her now. I thought your mother was never going upstairs!” She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the door to the garden. “Out here! I know a place.”
“A place?”
“Where we can be alone for a few minutes. Have you always been such a mama’s boy?”
Following her across the dark garden, he took a moment to get his bearings. Wouldn’t do to trip and send them both tumbling to the ground. The obvious flaw in that caution made him chuckle, as he envisioned rolling on the grass with Peg in his arms. “I resent that label. I’m an outwardly devoted son, not a mama’s boy, which implies that I cling to my mother, when it should be obvious, it’s very much the other way round.” They had reached a door in the garden wall and Peg released his hand to raise the latch.
“Whatever you call it, she doesn’t like me, I can tell.” The door opened onto a dark cavern smelling of motor oil and gasoline. Peg left him briefly, making her way toward what he hoped was a light switch.
“What if someone saw us come in here, or sees the lights? Won’t they suspect something?” The garage flooded with yellow light. He watched Peg go directly to the car and open the rear door.
“No, because I only came out here to see if I’d left this in the car.” Ducking inside, she reappeared a moment later, raising her handbag in the air. “Oh, look, here it is!” Grinning slyly, she closed the door and came toward him. “Right where I hid it.”
“You planned this? What a cunning little girl you are!”
“I was determined to get you away from your mother sometime tonight. My other plan was to say my cat had gone missing and I needed you to help me search for it.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
She slid her arms around his waist, the grin still on her lips. “I don’t. But your mother doesn’t know that. Now kiss me please, and then I have something to tell you.”
He seized her mouth much like a man dying of thirst, drinking long and deep. Whatever she had to say could wait until he was quenched. But for once, Peg seemed satisfied with one trip to the well. “I need to tell you this where no one else will hear.” She pushed away from him, although her hands remained on his lapels, an encouraging sign that she wasn’t done with him completely.
“Why so secretive?”
“Just listen. I overheard Uncle Sean telling Dad he’s planning to go up to the Maine cabin this week. He wanted us all to go, but Dad is too busy. But I think the four of them, Uncle Sean and Aunt Maureen, Uncle Patrick and your mother are definitely going. But when your mother asks you, you have to tell her you can’t go.” She divulged this information with lightning speed, leaving him a little breathless.
“Hold on, there. What is a main cabin and why can’t I go?”
“Maine, the state. Dad owns a summer house on the coast up there. And you can’t go because they’ll be gone until next week and this Friday night we’re giving a dinner party. That’s when Dad is going to introduce you to Bernie Silverman, assuming I can get him to come on such short notice, which I’m sure I can.” She paused to catch her breath.
“Ah. I see, I think.” Taking advantage of her momentary silence, he drew her closer, dropping kisses along her hairline. “So you expect that tomorrow Mother will spring this change of plans in hopes of tricking me into leaving for a week, but now that you’ve warned me, I’m to respond that I can’t possibly miss my opportunity to meet Silverman, who may or may not be coming to dinner on Friday night?”
“That’s right! Oh, Kendall, we’ll have so much fun! I want to take you to a play. And take you to the museums. And take a carriage ride through the park. And take the ferry around the harbor.” Ignoring his persistent assault on her upturned face, she went on excitedly, “A whole week! Won’t it be wonderful?”
Pinning her with the sternest gaze he could muster, he groaned. “Yes, if you’ll stop telling me all these plans you’ve made and just kiss me. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to take you into the back of that car and do appallingly wonderful things to you right now that we’ll both regret tomorrow morning. You are without question the most exasperating brat I’ve ever tried not to make love to!”
Her laughter was muffled beneath his kiss. He was lost. There was no denying it. Giddy as a schoolboy on holiday. Peg in his arms, the prospect of days alone with her, or as alone as they could be beneath the watchful gaze of Adamson, Mrs. Leary and Simon, set his imagination soaring. That most of what he imagined would likely remain fantasy was beside the point. He would seize the moment, enjoy all of Peg he could have, and deal with the consequences later.
Chapter Seventeen
Standing dutifully on the front stoop watching the car pull away on Tuesday morning, Kendall actually felt sorry for his mother. Eloise was not remotely outdoorsy and while Peg had assured her the cabin had all the modern amenities, he’d seen the disappointment in her eyes as she’d taken one final look around her luxurious bedroom in the brownstone.
“I do wish you were free to come with us, Kendall. But of course, meeting a man like Maestro Silverman is something I wouldn’t want you to pass up. Still, I’m afraid you’ll be bored to tears on your own here.”
He’d refrained from pointing out the unlikelihood of that. “I’ll manage just fine, Mum, I’m sure. I could do with a few quiet days. You just try to enjoy yourself and don’t worry about me.”
He turned inside, intent on putting in an hour of practice.
Peg had been nowhere in sight this morning, and before she could distract him, he was determined to hide himself in the ballroom. No sooner had the door closed behind him than he was confronted by a prim vision in navy blue and white coming down the stairs.
“What on earth. . .are you going to a funeral?”
“No, silly, a meeting.” She patted the little veiled hat perched on the side of her head and smoothed the jacket of her tailored suit. “Business. Then pleasure. I thought we’d go to the Metropolitan this afternoon. But first we’ll have lunch here. Mrs. Leary is making her wonderful shrimp salad for us.”
“Prawn.”
She grinned. “Not in New York. Shrimp.” Pushing him through the open study door, she came at him with eyes gleaming. “Kiss me,” she hissed.
“No! Adamson could be lurking behind the draperies!”
“Kiss me! I have to go in five minutes!”
The full five minutes was put to excellent use. “Now go to your meeting before you get us in trouble. It won’t do for Adamson to report our activities to your father.” He carefully straightened her hat and smoothed her collar.
“I don’t think he’d object. Last night he told me he’s happy to see me having such a good time with you, and then he winked at me. He’ll be fine with us going out together, and if he should happen to walk in on us taking advantage of one another, as you so properly put it, I doubt he’ll be at all surprised. He likes you.”
“More to the point, you like me, right?” He couldn’t resist cupping her chin and dropping one last kiss on her smiling lips.
“Right. Very right. Now I have to go!”
Mounting the stairs, he mused on Peg’s gift for creative secrecy, which she attributed to growing up in a huge, under-populated mansion like this one. The house seemed to provide endless possibilities, and Peg took advantage of all of them, making a game of popping out of doorways and dragging him in for a few stolen moments. Depending on her mood, those moments ranged from playful, as this morning’s had been, to oddly intense, as had been the case just the previous afternoon, when she’d led him to a deserted third floor corridor.