His gaze rested speculatively on her face. "Well, well," he said gently. "I had no idea you could turn such an interesting color. It's very attractive."
Maggie was furious with herself. She'd long ago learned not to react to suggestive comments, public or private—but what was there about Karr Elliot that seemed to knock out all her defenses?
"As a matter of fact, I don't need anything but directions," she said coolly. "I'm bringing a housewarming gift to my friend Libby, but if I have to wander round among all these identical units till I find the right one, the flowers will be dead."
"I'll walk you over," Karr said. He handed the receptionist a folder.
"Directions are too hard to follow, then?" Maggie asked politely as he held the door for her.
Karr's eyebrows rose a fraction. "Good try, but you're not going to maneuver me into admitting anything of the sort."
"Oh—that's a relief. I thought perhaps you had to have a crew come in every morning to gather up people who've been lost all night and are still trying to find their way home."
Karr paused on the tiny porch to raise an umbrella, and held it over her head. "Not at all. I happen to be going home, and my townhouse is in the same direction as Libby's. But even if it wasn't, I'd leap at the chance to spend a few minutes walking in the rain with you."
"Right," Maggie muttered, and Karr smiled.
Halfway down the long row of townhouses, he pointed to an apricot-colored door, and swept her a dramatic bow. "If you'd like to stop by for a cappuchino when you're finished, I'm in number thirty. In fact, I owe you a meal—"
"I'll keep it in mind. But don't wait up for me."
"It would be a pleasure," he murmured, and watched from the sidewalk till she was safely on the tiny porch.
There was already a heart-shaped wreath on Libby's door, a delicate thing woven of wheat and silk flowers. And the name was lettered proudly on the mailbox, too.
Libby answered the bell and whooped with delight. "Maggie, I'm so glad to see you! Come in, I want you to see what we've already done." Her hair was wrapped in a scarf, and there was a smudge of what looked like newspaper ink on her nose; Maggie thought she had never looked happier.
Maggie followed her across the foyer. The tiny space was dim and a little gloomy today, especially in the upper corners of the staircase, but she could imagine it with sunshine streaming in the glass panels beside the door.
The living room was larger than she'd expected; beyond it was the dining alcove.
Boxes were scattered over the floor in both areas, half-unpacked, but there were already pictures on the walls and throw pillows on the couch. It looked as if the Montgomerys were wasting no time in settling in.
Libby pushed several boxes aside so they could walk through. "I was just going to take a coffee break," she said. "And you look as if you could use one, too—you're soaked through. What brings you out on such a rotten day?"
"Errands," Maggie said. "Besides, I missed you." She handed over the flowers.
"This isn't your real housewarming gift, of course. I'm waiting till you get settled and find out what you need—but it looks as you're doing very well."
Libby turned the coffee pot on and put the flowers in water. "I suppose you mean it's something of a miracle that I can already find a vase, but I've simply got to get it all done before I start work next week. Now, really—what brings you out on a day like this, Maggie?" She set two mugs of coffee on the kitchen table and pulled out a chair.
"Well, it started out to be errands," Maggie admitted. "Then I found out Karr's going to tear down Eagle's Landing and build townhouses or condos or something there instead."
Libby's eyebrows went up. "Really?"
"Isn't that perfectly revolting?" Maggie paced the width of the kitchen. "How many housing developments does Eagleton need, anyway?"
"I suppose it makes sense. When the new high-speed commuter line's built next year, it'll be easier to get back and forth to the city, so we'll get another surge of people moving this direction with money to spend on housing."
"I hadn't even thought of that," Maggie admitted. "They've been promising that line so long I'd stopped counting on it ever being built. But even with better train service, it will still be a pain to get downtown from here."
"You do it regularly."
"But I can choose when I travel, and I don't have to go every day," Maggie pointed out. "That's a lot different from riding a train every rush hour."
"I know. Commuting isn't my favorite activity either, but there are plenty of people who would do it—especially if they could live in a nice community, in a new townhouse."
"That doesn't mean they have to be built at Eagle's Landing."
Libby shrugged. "Why not? As a house, it's a white elephant, but it's only a mile outside town, and there must be several acres of land."
"You sound as if you approve!"
Libby reached for the coffee pot and topped off their mugs. "There are certain realities in the world, Maggie, and one of them is that Eagle's Landing is never going to be the way we used to know it."
"That doesn't mean it should be destroyed. As long as I thought Karr was just going to remodel, that was one thing. But tearing it down is just too much. There have to be laws about things like this." Maggie toyed with her mug, frowning. "I know—there are preservation people who can stop him. We did an article last year about a national group that steps in and prevents wanton destruction of landmarks."
Libby looked doubtful. "Maybe—if you can convince them it's a landmark. But it's a little late for that, don't you think?"
"Well, since I can't turn the clock back and start last week, now is the only time I've got." She checked her watch. "I can call yet this afternoon and get things started."
"There are battles you can't win, Maggie, and old buildings that aren't worth saving."
"Eagle's Landing isn't one of them," Maggie said stubbornly. "And I'm not going to stand by and see it destroyed in order to build more of these." She caught herself and bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I'm not insulting your new house, honestly. Will you show me around?"
"Of course." Libby set her mug down and led the way. "It's going to take time to get everything just the way I want it. I don't know what to do about curtains and wallpaper. And the odd space in the foyer needs a table, but where am I going to find one that'll fit?"
Maggie had to admit to some surprise at the sense of privacy and quiet; the arrangement of the houses with garages between made it seem as if each house stood alone. It also allowed the upper floor to have windows on all sides, unlike most townhouse developments—so the bedrooms were light and airy. The bathrooms were nice as well, big and well-designed. In fact, she'd have called the whole house attractive, except that would be a compliment to Karr, and she was darned if she'd go quite that far.
And everything seemed reasonably well-built, too. The trim was nicely finished, the floors were level and nothing creaked.
Of course, it was easy to make things look good when they were brand-new, she reflected. The condo she'd fallen in love with three years ago had been almost as appealing, even in its half-finished state…
It would be interesting, she thought, to see how these houses stood up to the test of time. She'd bet in twenty years they'd be sagging and twisting, while Eagle's Landing would still be standing, straight and every bit as basically solid as it was today…
But it wouldn't, of course. It wouldn't be standing at all, unless Maggie could stop the destruction.
"It's very nice, Libby," she said when the tour was over. "I mean it. And when you've had a chance to decorate, it'll be lovely."
"It won't be too long till it's finished, I hope. Dan and I've agreed that my paycheck will go directly toward the house for a while."
"I'd forgotten—you said when I first came that you're starting to work, but I was so preoccupied I didn't even ask about it. Where will you be working? What are you going to do?"
Libby looked down at her
feet, as if she regretted bringing up the subject. "At Elliot Development," she said finally.
Her voice was so soft that Maggie had to strain to hear, but the impact of her words was like a blow in the stomach. "You're joking. Libby, you can't be planning to work for Elliot the Great!"
Libby's head came up. "I start just as soon as possible," she said firmly. "And as soon as I've had some training, I'll probably be selling those townhouses, or condos, or whatever he's planning to build out at Eagle's Landing."
Maggie was still in shock by the time she got home.
Talk about your basic bad decision, she told herself derisively. She'd told Libby every thought in her head—and Libby would no doubt turn straight around and tell Karr.
Not that she blamed Libby for thinking it was her duty as Karr's employee to inform him of the threat. If Maggie had been in her friend's shoes, she might have done the same thing. But it certainly made matters more difficult; by the time the preservation people could get started, Karr would be three steps ahead of them.
Still, she had to try, so she dug through her old files till she found the phone number of the preservation society. When she asked for the person she'd interviewed for the magazine, she almost held her breath—the story had run almost two years ago, and the woman she'd talked to might not be with the organization any more.
But the young man who answered the phone was cheerful. "Oh, yes, she still works here. But she's in Virginia just now, picketing a developer. I'm her assistant; can I help you?"
Maggie was doubtful; he sounded very young, and when she told him her story, he was clearly unenthusiastic. "I don't know, Miss Rawlings. If the architect's unknown and the original owners weren't noteworthy or infamous…"
"It's a great house."
He sighed, and suddenly sounded much older. "They all are, aren't they? The problem is, we're spread so thin right now that we may not even have the resources to look into it. But hey, give me the details, and I'll tell my boss about it when she gets back."
It was better than nothing, Maggie supposed. "When will that be?"
"Well, they're only getting started, so I'd guess three weeks or so."
Maggie wailed, "But that will be too late! Isn't there something that can be done in the meantime?"
"Oh, there are a bunch of things you can do on the local level. I'll send you our handbook on how to get started. In the meantime, is there a local preservation group? Or a historical society or something?"
"Not that I've ever heard of."
"Well, then the first step is to organize one. Or you can call a public meeting and start getting the neighborhood informed and aroused—that works sometimes."
But there isn't really a neighborhood, Maggie thought. Eagle's Landing was so secluded that the tenants themselves had been the only neighbors. And it wouldn't be easy to rouse support for her cause, either. If Libby's reaction was any indication, a good many of the people of Eagleton would feel that trading one deteriorating old house for an entire new development wasn't a bad bargain.
"Get the mayor on your side," the young man recommended. "And as a last-ditch stand, if you can get onto the property, you can stage some sort of takeover or sit-in."
"That's sort of what I'm doing right now," Maggie said.
She put down the phone with a feeling of doom. Doing research, writing reports, organizing groups, conducting long talks with city officials—none of that was going to fit into her calendar, not if she had to juggle it along with her regular work. If only the special edition hadn't come along just now…
Which of course was nonsense. She'd planned for that project for a year, looked forward to it, dreamed of it. And she'd be enjoying every minute of the work on it, too, if it wasn't for Karr.
"Damn Karr Elliot," she muttered, and reached for her notebook calendar. She could at least try to get the ball rolling. She'd search through her list of contacts to see if she knew anybody who might have connections at Eagleton's city hall, and perhaps they'd take over…
The notebook had been lying atop her answering machine, hiding the blinking red light. What now, she thought with foreboding. Karr, reminding her that she now had just twenty-four hours left of her thirty days?
Probably not, she thought. He'd be far more subtle than that—he'd be more likely to send the message with a bunch of balloons, or as a singing telegram…
She flicked the switch, and the sultry voice of her editorial assistant filled the room. "Hi, it's Carol. I hope you haven't decided to take your work and go to Acapulco for the week, because Brian's called a progress meeting for the special edition tomorrow morning at ten. That's Wednesday, in case you're really out of touch. Oh, and it's your turn to bring the bagels. Want me to take care of it?"
Maggie groaned. "Why does he think I work at home?" she asked Tripp, who was waiting by the door, obviously hoping for a walk. "It's to avoid all the blasted time-wasting meetings!"
A progress meeting, however, meant that she'd better be able to show significant progress. If she settled down right now, she could have another story finished by dinnertime.
So much for Eagle's Landing, she decided reluctantly. It would have to wait till tomorrow.
It was warm enough on Wednesday morning to put her wools away and dress in a spring suit instead. After a couple of days in jeans and sweaters, the sensual blend of linen and silk felt good against Maggie's skin. And after months of wearing wintry colors, the icy pastel green was a boost to her spirits as well.
She was in the grassy area near the house, trying to convince Tripp to give up the idea of chasing a particularly tempting squirrel, when the black Mercedes came up the drive.
Karr got out and crossed the grass toward her. Tripp froze in his tracks and started to growl. Maggie scolded him, and he settled at her feet, still growling deep in his throat.
"I see the alarm system is back in order," Karr said. "It must have been the cold that slowed him down the other night."
Maggie had no trouble remembering which night he meant—when he had kissed her and Tripp hadn't jumped to the defense. She shrugged. "Everybody has an off day now and then."
Karr's gaze swept over her, appraising the pastel suit, seeming to linger at her hemline.
The skirt was inches shorter than anything she'd worn through the winter. Trust Karr to notice that first, Maggie thought.
"This certainly isn't one of your off-days. You're going to work, I see."
"I work every day," Maggie corrected. "But I'm headed for the office today, if that's what you mean."
"You didn't stop for that cappuchino yesterday."
"I told you not to count on me."
He was watching her as closely if he intended to sculpt her face. "You can't avoid this forever, Maggie. Today's the deadline."
She looked up at the house. From this angle, the heavy brick walls seemed to soar to the sky, so solid and massive that it seemed impossible they could ever be destroyed.
"Why are you tearing it down, Karr? There are so many wonderful things about this house—"
He sighed. "It's a business decision. Can't you get that through your head?"
"Destroying it would be a sin!"
He said, suspiciously, "Would be? What are you plotting now, Maggie?"
She tossed her hair and started for the door, tugging at Tripp's leash. "To steal a line from you, Mr. Elliot—maybe when it's all over I'll take you out for coffee someday and tell you about it. I have to go or I'll miss my train."
"I'll take you to the station."
"I'm not sure I want you to," she said honestly.
"Why? Are you afraid you might hear something that hurts?"
She put her chin up. "If that's a challenge, I accept it." She took Tripp upstairs, gave him a last petting and a rawhide chew to keep him company, and picked up her briefcase.
Karr was waiting beside the Mercedes, the passenger door already open. "In your opinion," he asked as she got in, "exactly which wonderful things about Eagle's Landin
g will I be condemned to eternal damnation for destroying?" He closed the door and walked around to slide under the wheel.
Maggie watched him warily. Just what was he up to now? He'd sounded almost casual, and yet there had to be an angle. "All of it," she said finally.
"Come on, Maggie. Broken slate, rotting overhangs, and all?"
"Those things can be fixed."
"Not easily. And that's not what I asked, anyway. If you're talking about doors and mantels and leaded-glass windows—"
"Of course I am."
"Then let me assure you those things will be saved. I've already made arrangements with a salvage company—"
"That's not good enough, Karr."
He didn't pause. "And, if we have time, we'll save them."
"What do you mean, if you have time? Is this just another argument to get me to move out?"
"I don't need another argument; the one I already have is perfectly good. I don't know what you've got up your sleeve, but let me warn you. Leave me alone, and all the really valuable things in this house will be saved."
"Is that supposed to be some kind of consolation prize?" Maggie's voice was bitter.
"I don't see that you're making a big concession, anyway—there's a good market for that sort of stuff, and nobody's ever said you didn't have an eye for a profitable deal."
Karr ignored her protest. "But at the first hint of trouble, I'll bring in a wrecking ball and turn the whole house into rubble—and all those wonderful treasures you're so concerned about will be at the bottom of the heap."
Maggie gasped. She felt as if her breath had stuck in her chest.
The Mercedes had pulled up at the train station before she'd regained her voice.
She stared straight ahead and said tightly, "You can't knock it down with me inside it."
Karr leaned across her to open the door; then took her chin in the palm of his hand and turned her face up to his. His voice was low and husky, but there wasn't a hint of hesitation. "Don't tempt me, Maggie my dear."
The Only Man for Maggie Page 8