Shannon's Daughter

by Karen Welch

  “I used to hide in here for hours, pretending I’d run away to some exotic place where no one knew who I was,” she explained as he’d peered around the gloomy room filled with canvas-draped furnishings.

  “So where are you now? Timbuktu, or perhaps Outer Mongolia?” He resisted moving immediately to the obvious reason for this excursion.

  “No, silly. I’m in paradise, in the arms of my lover, sailing on a glassy lake surrounded by flowering jungle at twilight.” Her arms, tightening around his waist, and her head nestled trustingly on his chest, suggested she was in need of something other than kisses just now.

  “Hmm. And here I thought you wanted to be with me. Who is this varlet who takes you sailing to paradise? And is there any way I can win you back from his clutches?”

  Her laughter was worth the effort. Peg, he had learned, was rarely completely carefree. This particular mood seemed to have been prompted by the fact that Michael had come home from his office for lunch and instead of returning to work, gone to his room to “rest.” Kendall had made note of the concerned look that passed between Peg and Adamson. Since then, Peg had been quieter than usual and made frequent trips upstairs, presumably to check on her father.

  “His name is Kendall Gregg. He’s a famous violinist and a notorious Casanova and no one can take me away from him while he’s here with me.”

  “I see. And when he’s gone?”

  “I’ll just have to wait until we’re together again.”

  He hesitated to break the spell. “What’s wrong, brat?”

  She sighed, her arms tightening further. “Dad. He’s been overdoing. And he’s so stubborn he won’t listen to me or anyone else.”

  “Is he ill? Should he see a doctor?”

  “He won’t. Not until he can’t put it off any longer.” She raised her head, giving it a little toss. “Let’s not talk about it now. I brought you in here to share my hiding place with you. Come over here. I want to show you something.”

  She led him by the hand to a large, low object draped in canvas. “Help me, please.” Together, they lifted the dust cover to reveal a red velvet chaise, which he recognized as the one in Peg’s portrait. “This was my mother’s. In fact, this was my mother’s sitting room. Her bedroom was just through that door. Nothing’s been changed since she died.”

  He watched as she laid aside the cover and sat on the deeply tufted cushion. Patting the spot beside her, she looked up without a smile. “Mrs. Leary told me my mother would sit here with me in her arms and sing to me. I used to imagine I could hear her.” There was an absence of emotion in her voice again. He was reminded of the night in Ireland when she’d said you couldn’t miss someone you’d never known. She’d cried in his arms that night, but now there was no sign of tears.

  “It seems a bit morbid, all this just left here to molder. I wouldn’t have thought your father the sort to hold on to the past.”

  “When it comes to my mother, he’ll never let go. I know he comes in here sometimes, just sits for hours. I’ve even heard him talking to her.”

  “May I ask how she died? I’ve never heard anyone say precisely.”

  Peg stared at her hands, firmly folded in her lap. Her voice was low, still devoid of emotion. “She was coming back from a benefit concert in Boston. That’s where she was from originally. She’d just started singing again after having me and she insisted Dad stay home with me. Mrs. Leary told me she felt guilty about leaving me so soon. It was snowing. The car skidded off a bridge and she and the chauffeur were both drowned.”

  He tried to picture Michael receiving news of the tragedy. “I can understand how it might be impossible to recover from such a loss.”

  “I don’t know how Dad would have managed without Adamson and Mrs. Leary. They’ve stayed by him through everything, you know.”

  “They were both here then?”

  “Yes. Adamson was working for the bank, in the mailroom, when my parents married and Dad brought him here because my mother said she’d always wanted an English butler. And Mrs. Leary had been in the theater with her, before she even met my father. They were best friends and Mrs. Leary came here as soon as Dad bought this house. She helped pick the furniture and set them up in their new home. This is the only real home she’s ever known, she says.”

  “What happened to Mr. Leary?”

  “There never was a Mr. Leary. I guess my mother wanted a proper housekeeper too, and apparently all housekeepers are called Mrs. Something.”

  “So Adamson and Mrs. Leary have been here all your life. No wonder they act more like protective parents than servants.”

  “They’re not servants, not to me. They are like family in many ways. It’s a funny arrangement we have here, but that’s the way things worked out.” She stroked the smooth velvet idly for a minute. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

  He took a moment to gauge her mood before answering. “No. I don’t think I do. I’m sure I’ve never seen one, at any rate.”

  “I would know if my mother was here, I’m sure. You would think she’d have come back to see how Dad and I were doing, wouldn’t you?”

  “If such a thing were possible, I’m sure she would have.” He draped an arm around her shoulders, nestling her against his side. “Sweetheart, if there’s one thing I’ve learned through losing my father it’s that it doesn’t pay to think about it too often. The thoughts are always the same, always sad and never easier to understand.”

  “I suppose. Have you ever been angry with your father for dying?”

  “Oh, yes. Even when I know how hard he tried to hang on. It’s only natural to feel abandoned, especially when you’re young.”

  She turned to look into his eyes. “I’m glad you lost your father. Not that I’m glad he died, but I’m glad you understand what it feels like. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about things like this.”

  There was nothing to do but hold her closer, accept the kiss she offered and hope to comfort her in the process. When, without a word, she lay back on the chaise and held out her arms, he joined her, sensing she wanted simply to be held. He was rapidly realizing that no matter how much he learned about Peg, there would never be an end to the layers and depths of this complicated girl. He had also begun to suspect that given the opportunity, he would like nothing better than to spend a lifetime exploring them. That the opportunity would never be his only seemed to sweeten the time he had with her now.

  “How was your meeting?” Seated at the table in the bay window awaiting their lunch, he took note of the fact that she had changed into linen trousers and a gauzy blouse on her return. Her cheeks were still flushed from the noon heat.

  “Fine. But it’s too warm a day to spend cooped up in a stuffy old board room. I thought I was going to melt.” Raising her glass of iced tea, she drank deeply. “I think we should go to the museum this afternoon. It’s air conditioned, at least. And tonight, maybe we can get tickets to the theater. What would you like, a drama, a comedy or a musical?”

  “You choose.”

  “A musical, I think. I’ve seen most of what’s playing now, but I think it would be fun to see Guys and Dolls with you. Since it’s so American.”

  “Whatever you like. And you don’t have to take me out at all, if you’d prefer to stay home.”

  “Oh, no. I want you to see as much of New York as possible. Maybe you’ll like it so much I can sell you on auditioning for Bernie and you’ll get a job and move here. You could even live here, in this house. There are plenty of empty rooms. You could have your pick!”

  He was about to raise a protest when Mrs. Leary intervened. “There you go again, Miss Peg, letting your imagination run on. I’m sure Mr. Gregg has a perfectly nice life of his own in London.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Leary. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Seriously, Peg, I couldn’t just pick up and leave my students and what work I have there. There are three other fellows who rely on my talent to carry them along, you know. A string quartet is nothing witho
ut its first violin.”

  She made a little face, complete with scrunched nose. “Fine. Pass up the opportunity of a lifetime.”

  He laughed, but the idea that she had such a thing in mind was food for his own thoughts. Implausible as it seemed, what would really prevent him from putting down roots someplace other than London? Here, in New York, particularly in Peg’s New York, he would be out of his element, but at the same time he might be free to pose as someone suitable for a woman like Peg.

  “I’ll tell you what, brat. If things don’t work out in London, I’ll keep your offer in mind. How’s that?”

  She smiled across the table, casting an eye to Mrs. Leary. “Very wise. Now try the shrimp salad. A couple weeks of Mrs. Leary’s cooking and you may be packing your bags for New York after all.”

  Even a top-rated Broadway extravaganza paled next to Peg in a slim-fitting black dress and exquisitely delicate high-heeled sandals. The dress, strapless and topped with a little white lace jacket cut high in front and crossing low in back, left just enough to the imagination to provide a constant distraction. Kendall couldn’t seem to keep from searching beyond that lace to the tantalizing curves above the dress’s neckline, and when he walked beside her, his hand insisted on going to the bare skin above a single convenient button closing the back of the jacket. She had bound her hair in a snood again, this one black mesh decorated with tiny white flowers. As he slanted a glance at her during the opening tableau, he acknowledged that she was in the same instant innocence personified and seductive beyond belief. When she slipped a white-gloved hand beneath his on the armrest separating their seats, his visceral response caused him to blush like a schoolboy.

  Throughout the show, try as he might, his focus was far from the stage, although Peg seemed thoroughly entertained. It was at least good to see her enjoying herself. He knew she was still concerned about her father, who’d insisted she go out and leave him to the peace and quiet of his study and his brandy. “I love my family, but a few days at a time is quite enough. Don’t fuss, darlin’. A nice quiet night at home and I’ll be right as rain. You’ve got Kendall here to watch out for you, so I won’t worry.”

  She hadn’t seemed convinced, but now as the curtain went down for intermission, he was relieved to hear her say how glad she was they’d come. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “I’m glad you’re having fun. I should make a trip to the gents.” He stood, holding out a hand to help her up, assuming she’d go with him to the lobby.

  “I’ll just stay here.” She looked up through her lashes. “Don’t forget to come back.”

  “No need to worry about that. You’re sure you’ll be all right here alone?” It occurred to him to wonder if Simon would approve of leaving her unguarded in a crowded theater. Never having escorted an heiress, he wasn’t sure where the potential dangers lay, but after several days of noting what a close watch was kept on her, he’d come to suspect there must be justification for caution.

  “Of course.”

  The line was long, and by the time he returned, the warning lights had blinked. Threading his way toward their seats, he caught sight of a small, wiry man hovering over Peg, his hand outstretched as though saying farewell. His pulse quickened when the man—not quite seedy but definitely not one of Peg’s sort—shot him a sidelong glance before turning to leave.

  “Who was that?” Further alarmed at the puzzled expression on her face, he took her hand as he sat down.

  “I don’t know exactly. He just came up and started talking to me. He knew my name, and he said something about having seen my mother on the stage years ago. He acted almost as if I should know him, but I’m sure I’ve never seen him before.” She stared in the direction the man had disappeared, her eyes clouded with confusion. Shrugging her shoulders, she turned back to him with a weak smile. “Oh, well, maybe I have met him somewhere. Or he might just have recognized me from the papers. I’ve had several people who saw my deb picture come up to say hello, and it turned out they hadn’t seen me since I was a little girl.” She tucked her hand more securely in his. “I missed you.”

  “Long line.” The lights dimmed. He scanned the rows ahead for any sign of the stranger, but he had vanished without a trace. Lesson learned, he mused as the curtain came up. Princesses were not to be left alone, even in a crowd of seemingly innocent theatergoers. Whoever that fellow was, he’d made Peg uncomfortable, and more to the point Kendall had sensed a threat, or a warning, in his glance. From now on, he would be more watchful. Michael trusted him to protect Peg, not only from his own lusty interest, but from what could well be genuine danger. He studied her profile as the stage lights came up, tightening his grip on her hand. Peg Shannon was everything men coveted, a smart, beautiful woman in possession of a fortune. If he wasn’t careful, she would soon be in possession of his own worthless heart as well.

  “If you don’t mind, I think we should go home and have a bite to eat there, rather than going out somewhere. I want to check on Dad.” She settled back in the cab, linking her arm through his.

  “Not at all. But your father seemed fine when we left.”

  “I didn’t like his color. He thinks he can hide it from me when he’s not feeling well, but I know what to look for. I’ll just check on him and then we can raid the icebox. A picnic in the garden would be romantic, wouldn’t it?” She brushed her lips across his cheek, slipping closer on the seat.

  “A hike across the Sahara would be romantic if you were along, brat.” Obviously expecting him to kiss her, Peg closed her eyes. “But don’t think I can’t resist that beautiful mouth of yours. You’ll have to wait until we get home.” Easier said than done, but he was determined two could play her game. A little teasing might do her good, make her even more willing, if that were possible. He had the reckless notion to move things forward just a bit, take advantage of that tempting dress and see how Peg responded. Already in his mind he had undressed her sufficiently for a taste of those lovely curves and at least in his dreams she had not objected.

  “Fine, but what if I’m not in the mood when we get home.” Her pout was such an obvious fraud, he chuckled.

  “I’ll take my chances. I’ve yet to see you ‘not in the mood.’”

  “Oh! That’s awful! Are you saying I’m easy, Kendall Gregg?” She jerked her hand away and crossed her arms with a sharp ‘humph.’

  “Not at all. But once in a while the man likes to think he’s in the lead, you know. A little coy resistance, not too much mind you, only sweetens the seduction.”

  She turned with wide eyes sparkling. “Are you planning to seduce me?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know what I’m planning? You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

  Adamson opened the door before Peg could put her key in the lock. Instantly, Kendall knew his plan would not take shape tonight.

  “Now don’t get upset, Miss Peg, but I’m afraid your father’s been taken to hospital.”

  “Why? What happened? When did he go? Why didn’t you call me at the theater?”

  Apparently prepared for this barrage, the man waited patiently for her to take a breath. “He was experiencing some discomfort and when I telephoned the doctor, he felt it best to have Mr. Shannon brought by ambulance to Lennox Hill for observation. Your father insisted your evening not be interrupted.” Kendall was impressed with Adamson’s careful response to each of Peg’s questions. “He also suggested you wait here for a call from the doctor which should be coming through at any moment.” Dropping his professional façade, he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I assure you, my dear, had I believed him in any danger, I would have contacted you myself.” Kendall was surprised when she seemed to wilt slightly beneath the butler’s hand.

  “Adamson, should we be prepared to go to the hospital all the same? Once the doctor calls, that is?” It was the first thing that came to mind, knowing Peg would insist on rushing to her father’s side. He fully intended to be the one to go with her.

  �
�That’s difficult to say, sir. In the meantime, you might want to take Miss Shannon to the kitchen. Mrs. Leary has made tea. I’ll put the call through the moment it comes.” Gently, he steered Peg toward the kitchen, signaling that Kendall should take charge.

  Touched by this sign of trust, he took Peg’s arm and said softly, “Tea. I suppose even in New York, it’s the accepted comfort in any emergency. Come on, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s in the best of hands.” When she looked up, her eyes brimming with tears, his heart twisted. Even the best doctors could not always mend a failing heart, he remembered his father telling him. “He’ll be fine, Peg. You’ll see.”

  He was grateful to Mrs. Leary, who calmly served them tea and sandwiches, saying that at times like these, it didn’t pay to go without nourishment. Joining them at the table, she offered her own version of the night’s events.

  “It must have been around eight when your father called Mr. Adamson to the study. He said he felt a bit flushed and his heart had been beating irregular-like for a time. Said he wondered if it might not be best to telephone the doctor. It’s not as if he had a spell like the last time, dear. Nothing as bad as that. Even the man with the ambulance said his heart sounded strong.”

  Peg looked up from solemnly studying her teacup. “Did he really?” Her voice was hollow, but there was a note of hope in her tone.

  “Yes! You’ll see, dear. He’ll be back on his feet in no time. This is just a little setback, that’s all.”

  For the first time, Peg sought his gaze across the table. “Would you go with me to the hospital? I hate going alone.”

  “Of course. Whatever you want. But let’s see what the doctor says first.”

  “I’m going, no matter what he says. I have to see him. You understand that, don’t you?”