by Karen Welch
He chuckled. “Does she? I’m flattered.”
“You should be. She’s very hard when it comes to men. I think she’d have liked it if I’d chosen to become a nun.”
“Good heavens, was that ever a possibility?”
With a little shrug, she said wistfully, “I suppose every Catholic schoolgirl at some point thinks about it. I mean our teachers are all nuns, and some of them are really wonderful. I think Prue O’Hallaron may decide to. She’s always said she wanted to go to some place like Africa and be a missionary teacher. She’d be good at it. She isn’t at all interested in men. Nothing like Connie, anyway.”
“But you never seriously considered entering a convent, did you?”
“It’s not practical. I have to help Dad. My mission will be the foundation, I suppose.”
Kendall took a moment to study her face, serious and sincere, in the glow of the candles. “A noble calling, I’m sure. But when you fall in love you may have to make adjustments to that vision.”
“I’m not going to fall in love, remember? My crush on you is enough romance to last me for a while. Then I’ll just have to find some way to get us on the same side of the Atlantic again.”
He started to protest. “Peg. . .”
“Speaking of that, I should probably warn you about tomorrow night.”
“Warn me?” He had the sense she’d taken a sudden turn, leaving him completely in the dark.
“So you’ll be prepared. You see, Bernie Silverman will be asked to entertain everyone after dinner, and he’s going to invite you to play something with him.”
As surely as if he’d been kicked in the ribs, he gasped for air before rasping, “How do you know this?”
“Dad and I have it all worked out. I’ll talk to Bernie tomorrow, to let him know you’re willing.”
“Who said I’m willing?” he coughed.
Her lips pursed into a little pout. “But why wouldn’t you be? I thought you’d jump at the chance.”
“To play a duet with Bernard Silverman, cold? My god, girl, that’s unthinkable! You might have mentioned this to me before now!”
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to do it as a surprise for you, but then I thought you might like a little warning. You really don’t want to?” Crestfallen didn’t begin to describe her expression. The pout turned downward and her eyes clouded with what he sincerely hoped were not tears.
He took a deep breath, torn between guilt and terror. “I suppose I could. Depending on what he wants to play, of course. My repertoire is limited. And Silverman is brilliant from everything I’ve heard.” He paused, envisioning the magnitude of disastrous potential in such a venture.
“Then you’ll do it? Oh, Kendall, it’ll be wonderful, I just know it. I’ve heard you practice. You’re good, really good! And it will just be a little group, only about fourteen or so. You’ll see. I’ll be so proud of you!” She was fairly bouncing in her chair, her face now radiant.
He looked to the heavens, to the faint canopy of emerging stars, and said a silent, desperate prayer. “Fine. But I reserve the right to bow out if he wants to play something I’ll only make a mess of. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you and your father, not to mention humiliate myself. And brat?”
“Yes.” Eyes shimmering, she reached across to touch his hand.
“If you ever pull this sort of stunt again, I swear I’ll take you over my knee and spank you.”
Following dessert, Peg excused herself, explaining that she wanted to telephone her father with the “good news,” leaving him in the garden to contemplate the prospect of making a complete fool of himself.
“Excuse, me, sir. I wondered if I might have a word?” He would never get used to people sneaking up on him in this house.
“Of course, Mr. Adamson. In fact, I was going to try to find you after dinner. What is it?”
“I took the liberty of inspecting your evening clothes. There seemed to be a stain on your jacket. I’ve sent it to the dry cleaners. It will be returned in the morning. I didn’t want you to wonder where it had gone, should you go looking for it, sir.”
“That was very thoughtful of you. I’m afraid the stain may have been Miss Shannon’s makeup. She shed a few tears on my jacket Tuesday night, I remember.”
“Yes, sir. Mascara. They assured me they could remove it without a trace.” In the dim light, Kendall was sure he saw a smile teasing at the man’s lips. “What did you need of me, sir?”
“First of all, I wish you’d stop calling me that. I’m not at all accustomed to such formality, and it would seem more appropriate for me to address you as ‘sir.’ This is all very strange to me, Mr. Adamson. I’m sure I would have been searching for the seltzer tomorrow evening, trying to take care of that stain myself. It never occurred to me that you would take that on.”
“I provide that service to all of the gentlemen who visit here, sir. And of course to Mr. Shannon. And I know Miss Peg wishes you to make the best impression on her guests tomorrow evening.”
He grimaced. “So I’ve been told. And before she returns, there’s something I needed to tell you. This afternoon we were in Columbus Circle, at that little café Peg likes, and when we left, I’m virtually certain I saw that man again, the one from the theater Tuesday night. He seemed to have been following us.”
Adamson never flinched, although his jaw tightened a fraction. “Thank you, Mr. Gregg. I appreciate your being so observant.”
“Not at all. Frankly, I wanted to turn around and ask him what the devil he was up to, but I didn’t want Peg to see him. Just how much trouble can this fellow cause, if that’s what he’s trying to do?”
One brow rose sharply. “Quite a bit, I’m afraid, sir. And please don’t confront him, especially not in Miss Peg’s presence. There’s no way to predict what he might say in the heat of the moment.”
“Mrs. Leary suggested he might ‘remember things from the past.’ Can he really do any harm?”
“Quite possibly. I’ve made some inquiries since this morning, and I fear he may have blackmail in mind. Simon will attempt to learn more. In the meantime, I’d be grateful if you’d discourage Miss Peg from roaming too far abroad. When Mr. Shannon’s health improves sufficiently, I’ll take the matter up with him. For the moment, it would be best to contain the situation as much as possible.”
A chill touched the back of Kendall’s neck. The gravity of Adamson’s tone told him this was not some vague threat. His use of the word blackmail, as though the idea were not at all foreign to him, set off a shiver of apprehension. “I understand. I wish I could. . .well, I suppose there’s very little I can do, is there? I know I can trust you to take care of her.” He dropped his head, staring helplessly down at his hands.
“We will, sir. Perhaps what I said earlier bears repeating, however. We’ll be sorry to see you leave.”
“Thank you, but some things can’t be changed, much as we might like them to. Now I should see where she’s gotten off to. I promised her I’d play my violin for her.” He pushed his chair back and stood, meeting Adamson’s gaze, eye to eye. “One last thought. If that man was following us, it’s likely he picked up our trail at the hospital. You don’t think he’d try to see Mr. Shannon there, do you?”
“No sir. The hospital has already been advised that Mr. Shannon is to see no one other than his daughter and yourself. Don’t worry, Mr. Gregg. Unfortunately, we’re accustomed to the need for security. It’s only now, with Miss Peg starting college and becoming so, if you’ll excuse the expression, blasted independent, that we’re being forced to become more vigilant.”
Chapter Twenty-two
He had lulled her to a dreamy calm with Brahms, dropped a kiss on her cheek and taken himself upstairs with the faintest ray of hope. While she’d implied she would return tonight, there was a possibility she’d changed her mind, wasn’t there? He knew his hope was rooted in the need to feel less like a bounder, particularly after his talk with Adamson. The man’s trust in him yanked painfully a
t his conscience.
After dressing for bed in pajamas and dressing gown as though suiting up for battle, he sought the safety of the room’s only armchair and opened a copy of the New Yorker he’d borrowed from the study. Peg had caught him unawares last night, but now he felt better prepared, more familiar with her tactics.
“Who are you trying to fool, Gregg? The moment she walks in, you’re most likely lost,” he growled, finding odd comfort in the sound of his own voice.
For a time, he struggled to focus, finally finding a short story that held his attention. He relaxed, his hope beginning to rise. It was nearing midnight. Surely she’d fallen asleep by now. With a cautious sigh, he eyed the bed longingly, just as the soft rapping of knuckles sounded.
Without waiting for a response, Peg opened the door and slipped in. “Oh, good! I was afraid you were asleep. I’m sorry, but Connie phoned. She was upset over some silly girl stuff and I had to listen, at least for a while.” Unceremoniously lifting the magazine from his hands, she laid it aside and took a seat across his lap. “I would have hated to wake you, but I couldn’t very well tell her I had to go so I could come here, could I?”
Before he could answer, her arms wound around his neck and her mouth covered his. Lost indeed, overwhelmed and struck breathless at the sight of her, he let himself enjoy the kiss long enough to become thoroughly aroused. When she finally drew away to rest her head on his shoulder, he could do little more than hold her and search for his vanishing self-control.
“Where on earth did you get this?” he exhaled, fingering the shoulder strap of her nightgown. Black lace cut to stunning effect, the garment had apparently been designed for a woman desperate to ignite the passions of the man in her life. It also looked to be the sort of cheap thing peddled in the back pages of tell-all magazines beneath the caption “Feeling neglected? Capture his attention tonight!”
Peg laughed softly. “From Connie. We gave each other gag gifts for graduation. She said I’d never dare to wear it.”
“I hope you don’t plan to report that you did.”
“Oh, no. Connie can’t be trusted. I’d never tell her a secret like ours.”
He kept his eyes fixed on the wall opposite, determined to ignore the secrets the gown so readily divulged. “Peg, you shouldn’t have come. I think we should put a stop to this while we can.”
“You don’t mean that. I can tell, you know.” She wiggled gently on his lap. “What’s wrong?” Her fingers slid inside his shirt, gliding along his collar bone. Eyes wide, but far from innocent, she waited for an answer.
“You’re playing with fire, little girl. I just don’t want to be the man to burn you. Now be good, Peg. Get up and toddle back to your room.”
“Don’t try to treat me like a child, Kendall. You and I both know I’m not one.” The hand kept moving, opening first one and then another button, insinuating itself across his chest. Never, in all his encounters with women, had he been so easily stirred by a simple caress.
“No. You’re not. Which is why you should understand how wrong this is.”
“Tell me one thing wrong with what we did last night.” Now her lips had joined the assault, pressing softly against his temple, across his brow and coming to rest on his ear. When her tongue traced down to the lobe, he groaned and tried to pull away.
“You’re impossible! Here I’m trying to protect you, and you’re forcing me to. . .to. . .”
Drawing his face to her chest, she sighed and threw back her head. “To what? To care for me?”
“Yes, damn it!” The full effect of his frustration was muffled against stiff lace and soft flesh. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, take this ridiculous thing off! It doesn’t suit you at all!”
Things had gone too far. As he held her sighing at his side, he battled guilt and regret. Never expecting her to reach ecstasy so easily, he had unintentionally taken her to the point of no return.
“Kendall?” Her lips moved softly against his skin.
“Yes, love?”
“No one told me it would be like that.”
He smiled in spite of himself. “I don’t think it’s quite like that for everyone. Are you all right?”
“Um. I thought I was going to break into a million pieces. And now I feel more completely myself than I’ve ever felt. Will it always be like that, or is it just the first time that’s so incredible?”
“I can’t say, never having been a woman. For a man, it’s always much the same.”
She raised her head, her eyes glazed as they met his. “It didn’t happen for you, did it? Why not?”
Unwilling to reveal his current distress, both mental and physical, he said calmly, “The process is a little different for a man. And I don’t want it to happen, not with you. I promised, remember?”
Dropping her head, she sighed. “That hardly seems fair, to you I mean. You’re too good to me.”
“Quite the contrary, I’m completely wrong for you.” If she heard, she failed to respond and in another moment her breathing grew slow and deep. “But God help me, I love you, Peg Shannon,” he whispered into her hair. Another few minutes, and he eased from the bed, slinking to the bathroom in search of at least physical relief.
Chapter Twenty-three
By the time he woke, the sun was up and Peg was gone. The sheet next to him was still warm and the scent of lemons lingered on the pillow, leaving him chilled and bereft. He forced himself to focus on the day ahead, to Michael’s return, and to the dinner party. As the thought of playing the role of Michael Shannon’s grateful nephew set his heart thumping uncomfortably, he threw his legs off the side of the bed, raking his hands through his hair. He had slept with the man’s daughter. In return he would be introduced to one of the most powerful conductors in the world, feted at a party in his honor and touted as a rising talent. Facing himself in the mirror would take all the strength he could muster and then some.
When he reached the first floor an hour later, braced by hot water and a stiff lecture on self-denial, he found Peg, surrounded by strangers in various uniforms, quietly giving orders and looking completely at ease with her responsibilities. There were four maids in tidy blue dresses and crisp white aprons, bent on cleaning every corner of the already immaculate rooms, a trio of florists in green overalls arranging huge bouquets in the entry hall, dining and living rooms, and a mustachioed piano tuner, shushing the lot of them as he banged his tuning forks beneath the hood of the baby grand in preparation for the Maestro’s performance.
At the foot of the stairs, Kendall came up beside Peg as she studied the notepad in her hand and chewed the tip of her pen. Deep in concentration, she started when he whispered near her ear, “I thought you said this was just a small affair. I suppose you have an army here for days in advance of a real party?”
She looked up sharply, taking a moment to focus on him before beaming a smile. “Good morning. I hated to wake you, you were sleeping so soundly,” she whispered back. The sound of her voice, husky and warm, sent a fresh spasm of guilt through his chest. This morning, far from that siren in black lace, she was a vision of fresh young womanhood, wearing slim-fitting blue jeans and a starched white shirt complete with sailor collar and little red tie. Her hair, obviously recently shampooed, hung in damp waves down her back, held from her face with a red ribbon. The conflicting images in his head left him momentarily speechless, as she went on in a more normal tone, “You’ll find coffee and sweet rolls in the kitchen. Mrs. Leary is upstairs getting Dad’s room ready and Adamson has already left for the hospital. I have so much to do today I told them they could take care of him. He’ll need to rest all day if he plans to join us tonight. And I’m sure he does. He’s been looking forward to introducing you to everyone for weeks. Now run along and eat something. I may need your help, if you don’t mind too much.” Again, she dropped her voice to a whisper. “We might even find a minute or two to ourselves, if we’re lucky.”
He marched off to the kitchen, head reeling slightly with his rapid
rise from the depths of guilt-ridden despair to the pearly gates of a fool’s paradise. Come what may, for as long as it could last, he would love Peg Shannon and be damned. That thought, as he poured himself a cup of steaming adrenaline, was far more exciting than it should have been.
The morning was filled with a steady stream of tasks which at least helped hold his anxiety to a mildly gut-twisting dread. He followed Peg around much like a besotted basset hound, fetching and carrying and mentally wagging his tale in gratitude for her attention. She was in her element, clearly experienced with organizing an evening such as the one planned, and he was openly awed by her stamina.
“Is all this really necessary, just to have a few people in to dinner?” he asked as she circled the dining table measuring each place setting for precise alignment of china, silver and crystal.
Peg glanced up from her ruler long enough to fire off a look that said he must be joking. “The number of people has nothing to do with it. Besides, this party is in your honor, so I especially want everything to be perfect.” With a final appraisal of her handiwork, she rounded the table toward him. “Time for one quick kiss, and I have to start getting myself ready.”
With a glance over his shoulder for good measure, he pulled her into his arms. “So soon? It’s only two o’clock.” Her upturned face was too much to resist. A quick kiss was out of the question. He’d watched her all day with increasing admiration and not a little lust. In this role, as every other, he found her intriguing and utterly adorable. It was pointless to deny it, he’d let himself fall in love with her and everything she did only drove him deeper into forbidden territory.
“I have to get out the smoke and mirrors, you know. You won’t even recognize me by tonight.”
“Oh, I doubt that. You’ll be the one at that end of the table, right?” He dipped in for another kiss, his hands traveling downward to mold her closer.