And still she wished she knew him better, longer. She wanted to argue with him the way she might if they were a real couple. Disagree, but not step away from him. Never let the sun go down on an argument, Milo had told her once. She believed it. And if she were really in love, if they were looking toward the future, they could retire to the same room, hash it out, even keep their own opposite opinions and still curl into bed together.
She reflected on the book she had been reading that afternoon, on Morwenna and her Michael. A war lay between them. They were on the same side, but it tore their country apart, destroyed her home. And still what they had found between them gave them strength and faith through adversity.
Warmth…
She remembered the words of the diary entry.
He came to me last night….
Had she dozed? She opened her eyes, thinking, remembering, longing for the warmth.
And there he was, standing at the foot of her bed, in a long velour robe. Red, she thought, but she couldn’t tell, because the shadows of the night were too thick. It was as if he had been waiting for her to see him; then he came slowly to her, and she sat up in bed, words on her lips but not falling. He hadn’t asked her permission to be there; she had said they needed to keep their distance.
But she was glad he was there. So glad. She left the bed, going to meet him. She looked up at him, curling her arms around his waist, laying her face against his chest, where the soft velour of the robe and the bristle of short dark hair teased her nose and cheeks. His fingers moved into her hair and she felt his kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him again, and once again, words hovered on her lips, but he laid his finger over them, and the deep, uncanny blue of his eyes fell upon her with a brooding depth of emotion that seemed to stop her heart from beating. He never said a word, but she was suddenly in his arms, feeling his kiss, meeting it with her own, feeling a burning hunger, desire that bordered on magic, the essence of dreams.
Then she was in his arms, lying with him, entangled with him. And there she found what was often so elusive in life. A touching beyond the flesh, an intimacy of the soul. She was where she belonged.
The warmth. Warmth she felt as such a sweet and poignant yearning. The feeling she had found in the pages of the book, the feeling she had envied.
Yes, it was just like the book….
* * *
She was alone when she awoke. Silence surrounded her, and a coolness in the room made her pause and think she had imagined the entire fantastic night. Her bed appeared almost completely unruffled, and she was dressed in a flannel nightgown.
Perplexed, she rose slowly, then glanced at her watch on the nightstand and went tearing for the shower. Almost nine. They had been talking about leaving by ten. Showered, dressed, makeup on, hair neatly smoothed, she was certain that she could not have imagined what had been. She stared at herself in the mirror, practicing ways to ask him about it. “What were you doing in my room last night?” she said aloud to her reflection. She cleared her throat and looked very seriously into the mirror. “I thought we had agreed to a certain distance, let some time go by?”
That was it. Just right.
She went downstairs. Voices from the kitchen assured her that the rest of the household had already gathered.
Robert was with Daniel, studying some shots as they separated photos into the pockets of a briefcase. “Down to those—final decisions at the office?”
“As soon as we get in, so we can have them ready to run ASAP.”
“Hey, Jilly.” Griff met her at the foot of the stairs. “We found one of Jeeves’s old cat carriers. Were you taking Jeeves Junior on your lap, or do you want the carrier?”
“The carrier, I guess. If we stop for coffee or something along the way, he’ll probably feel safer in an enclosed space. And it’s cold. I can throw an old T-shirt in with him.”
“Ah, good morning, Jillian,” Douglas said.
Gracie came over to her, bearing a cup of coffee. “Just a touch of milk, Jillian, is that right?” She smiled eagerly.
Jillian accepted the coffee, noting that Gracie looked good, not so nervous. The country seemed to agree with her. Maybe she’d had time alone with Daniel.
Jillian suddenly hoped so. She hoped very much that it had been Gracie with her cousin the other night, not Connie. It couldn’t have been Connie!
“It’s perfect. Thank you, Gracie.”
“My pleasure.”
She sipped the coffee, walked over to Douglas, kissed his cheek and smiled.
“Grab some breakfast. I can see that Eileen is getting antsy,” he said.
“I still can’t believe it’s this cold so early in the year. Makes you want to sit next to a fire and just roast,” Eileen said.
Jillian shivered, as if icicles rather than fire danced along her spine. She walked around the table, selecting a scone. They were like a colony of ants in the kitchen, everyone moving about, taking a bite here and there, going for more coffee, packing up papers.
At last she managed to meet Robert at the coffeepot. Business Robert, Mr. Powerhouse in a perfectly cut suit, hair freshly washed and smoothed back, cheeks freshly shaven. He smiled at her as they met there, his eyes touching hers in a way that brought back a sweet rush of the same warmth that had filled the night with magic.
She wasn’t insane.
“I…”
“You okay?” he asked softly.
“Yes, I, um…I just, well, I guess I’m a little surprised—though not disappointed—that you came to my room last night. I mean, we’d agreed to let some time go by.”
He sipped his coffee, staring at her, a curious frown furrowing his forehead. For the longest time he didn’t speak, those deep blue eyes simply pinning hers.
“Dear Lord, please tell me that I was with you!” she said a little desperately. Not at all what she had practiced in the mirror.
“Yes, you were with me,” he said.
She exhaled a long breath of relief. “Then why…why did you look at me like that, as if I were…way off base?”
He set his coffee cup down, his attention entirely on her as he shook his head. “Jillian, I didn’t come to your room.”
“What? I don’t understand. You just said you were with me.”
“I didn’t come to your room. You came to mine.”
CHAPTER 11
They were just getting everything together to leave, when Agatha came out, wringing her hands.
“You can’t go,” she told them.
Robert was standing by the door with one of Eileen’s suitcases in hand. A heavy suitcase.
Given that she traveled constantly on business, it was a bit strange that she didn’t seem to have mastered the knack of traveling light, he thought. Especially since she had a room at this house and, according to Gary, a closet the size of a normal room full of clothing.
“Why can’t we go?” he asked, setting the suitcase down.
They all stared at Agatha expectantly.
“There’s a blizzard.”
“A blizzard?” Daniel repeated incredulously.
“According to the news, there are gale force winds and six to eight inches of new snow on the way. It will all be over by this evening. You can’t go. And even if you made it in, just who would you be doing business with? The whole city is shutting down.”
“Are you sure?” Theo asked skeptically.
“Theodore Llewellyn, would I make up a blizzard?” Agatha said indignantly.
“Well, no, Aggie, but—”
“Come watch the Weather Network,” Aggie suggested.
They did. Leaving the bags in the foyer, they walked back into the side parlor and stared at the large screen television.
A freak storm had indeed sprung up. The forecaster was talking about the rarity of such bitter weather so early in the season. “Looks like we can all expect a white Christmas,” the weatherman intoned solemnly. “Because this stuff is going to be thick and heavy, and it will be around for
quite a while.”
“I’m going to go out and see Jimmy, make sure the stables are good and warm and that the generator is in good working order,” Douglas said.
“No, Grandfather, I’ll go. I want to see the horses, anyway.”
“I’m not a doddering old fool, Jillian. I’m not going to trip over the steps,” Douglas said a bit indignantly.
“We are old, and there’s ice everywhere,” Henry said. “Good idea, Jillian. Thank you.”
“I’ll make some calls,” Daniel said with a sigh.
“Daniel, we’re not losing anything. The city is closing down,” Jillian said.
“I know, I know. I just want to get moving on all this. I think we’ve got a campaign that can add impressive percentages to our seasonal sales, and I admit, I’m impatient.”
“I’m bored,” Eileen said. “Ready to get back to work.”
“It’s always good to know that a weekend away with me is so important to you,” Gary teased, shrugging philosophically.
Eileen had the grace to blush. “It’s just cabin fever,” she murmured.
“At least I’m in the cabin,” he said.
“I’m going out to see Jimmy,” Jillian said.
“I’ll put on more coffee,” Agatha announced.
“You can put some brandy in mine,” Griff muttered. “If I’m going to be stuck in the house all day…” He let his voice trail off, then suddenly slipped an arm around Gracie, drawing her in close to him. “Hey, Gracie. Want to share a cup of spiked coffee with me? Get me through this awful day?”
“Mr. Llewellyn!” Gracie protested, flushing beet red. “Of course not. I’ll be with Daniel, ready to take notes, make calls, whatever he needs, as he works.”
“Gracie, nobody’s going to be working much,” Daniel assured her.
Robert noted that Jillian had watched the exchange with more curiosity than it deserved before slipping outside. He decided to follow her. “Daniel, do you want me to take on any of the calls? If not, with this wind whipping up, I think I’ll just make sure Jillian is all right.”
“Unfortunately, I think I can handle the day’s work myself,” Daniel said glumly.
Robert went out after Jillian. The wind had come up with a sudden ferocity. He drew his coat collar high around his neck. It wasn’t a good day to travel, that much was for certain, and he was glad that no one had insisted on going back. He had dressed to head back into the office, and his low leather shoes were entirely wrong for the snow through which he walked, but his heavy woolen overcoat was decent enough protection. Still, he was glad when he reached the stable.
“Sounds like a banshee’s lament out there,” Jimmy called to him. “Won’t be clearing ’til this evening, so they say.” He and Jillian were standing by Crystal’s stall.
“I was just talking to Jimmy about the tack room,” Jillian said. She didn’t seem particularly pleased to see Robert. She had been troubled all morning—ever since he had told her that she had visited him. It had amazed him to see the shock in her eyes. He thought back to how she’d arrived, given him the night of a lifetime, then disappeared back to her own room. He understood her need to go slow, but surely she understood that he was human and not interested in going slowly at all.
Maybe it was this house. Her husband had died here. Maybe her dreams were as insane as his own.
He leaned on the stall door, patting Crystal on the nose. “And what did Jimmy say about the tack room?”
“Same as I told you yesterday, Mr. Marston,” Jimmy said. “This is a nice quiet area. Houses are few and far between, mostly owned by folks who’ve had ’em forever, who live their own lives and stick to themselves. Sure, we’ve got kids around. Teenagers. Someone busted the fence, right? But I’ve never seen anyone fooling around in the tack room. And Jilly here is the only one with a real interest in the horses anymore. Well, and Miss Connie. You know how the two of you always went riding together when you were young? She still loves the horses, same as you, Jilly.”
“So Connie Murphy was down here this trip?” Robert asked.
“Yup, she was,” Jimmy agreed cheerfully. “Joe stopped in, too. And Daniel came in with that skinny girl-Friday of his. Well, now, come to think of it, even Eileen came in with Gary—that Gary is a fine guy. One of his clients just came back from Trinidad, and he brought me some really fine rum. Think she’ll ever marry the poor guy?” Jimmy asked with a wink.
“Who knows?” Jillian murmured. “But the point is, the tack room is seldom locked. And there are two seniors from the local high school who come out and exercise the horses a few times a week.”
“And you think they might have knocked down that fence?” Robert asked skeptically.
“Our boys? No, sir,” Jimmy objected. “They’re good kids looking for extra money to help pay for college next year. That fence was run down by some fool going off the road. Go take a look for yourself. You’ll see.”
“You’re still missing the point,” Jillian persisted. “Anyone might have gotten in and tampered with a saddle girth.” She sighed with exasperation. “I’m going back up to the house.”
“I’ll walk back with you. Jimmy, are you coming, too?”
“Not at the moment, Mr. Marston. I’ll come up for supper later. I’m right fine here. I tend to prefer the company of horses to that of most people.”
Robert nodded. “I can certainly see your point at times.” He went on out after Jillian. She was obviously trying to escape him, but the wind had already grown stronger, the snowdrifts deeper. She was in such a hurry that she tripped, and he caught up with her.
She was wearing a beautiful gray woolen coat with a warm faux fur lining; it was covered in snow as he helped her to her feet, trying to dust her off.
“I’m all right,” she told him.
“No,” he protested gently, meeting her eyes. “No, I don’t think you are, not at the moment.”
“Look, Robert—”
“Jillian,” he persisted, holding her by the shoulders. “I don’t exactly know what criteria there are for really loving someone, for falling in love. I don’t know. I do know that what I feel for you is fierce, and very real. I don’t want to push you, but I don’t want to stay away from you, either. And I’m afraid you really are in some kind of danger, so is it so terrible to let me be with you?”
“I…” She lowered her head, then looked back up at him. “I’m sorry. I just need a little space. I don’t mind you being near me—well, I suppose that was rather obvious last night—but I just don’t…I just…need space,” she finished lamely.
“All right,” he said, releasing her shoulders.
She turned and started back toward the house, then paused, back very stiff. She turned again, facing him. “And it’s not that you’re not…magic. I’ve never felt anything in my life like being with you.”
She left him then, in the snow. He felt the wind swirl around him with a fury, the cold bite into his cheeks.
Then he followed her back to the house.
The day went well, considering that they were all restless and experiencing a bit of cabin fever.
The electricity stayed on until four p.m. Then the house was plunged into darkness. Aggie worried about the pheasants she was baking, but Jimmy had the generator ready to kick in, so they were fine.
Dinner was delicious, the mood mellow. Robert noted the closeness between Agatha and Henry as they served and cleared. When dinner was over, Jillian suddenly stood up and told Agatha and Henry to get themselves back out by the parlor fire, that they were to do nothing but watch a movie, kick back and sip hot toddies. She was taking over the kitchen.
It was interesting to note the way the rest of the group was ready to kick in. Eileen started scraping plates, while Griff was determined to clean counters. Daniel tackled the pots and pans with the same gusto he brought to a sales meeting. And with the same help. Gracie stood as ever by his side, ready to dry every pot that came her way.
Robert helped Jillian rinse t
he plates for the dishwasher. When they were done, Griff raided the cupboard for a bag of chocolate kisses, then searched the bar for whatever might be unusual. “Hey, we’ve got some blueberry brandy,” he offered.
“Let’s heat some and have it over ice cream,” Eileen suggested.
“Cool,” Griff agreed. “Robert?”
“Sure.”
Soon everyone was seated around the table with ice cream and the blueberry brandy, along with chopped nuts and maraschino cherries that had turned up at the back of the pantry.
“So all of you spent time here growing up, right?” Gracie asked, giggling. She must have been imbibing a bit of the brandy before it had reached the table, Jillian thought. She had never seen the woman anything but completely sober and businesslike before.
“We did. Jillian spent the most time here,” Daniel said.
“I lost both my parents when I was really young,” she reminded them.
“Yes, poor Jilly…” Eileen murmured.
“Poor Grandfather. He lost his brother, then his brother’s son. My mother, my dad, and then Eileen’s father just a few years later. I pray I never have to lose a whole generation.”
“If we ever have a generation to lose,” Theo murmured. They all stared at him. “Well, have you seen any of us rushing into marriage?”
“Jillian was married,” Robert reminded them.
“Yes, of course,” Daniel said with a wave of his hand. “But we all knew that there would be no next generation from that marriage—” He lowered his head suddenly. “Sorry, Jillian.”
“It’s all right.”
“There will be a younger generation,” Gary said firmly.
“I, well, yes, of course—at the right time,” Eileen murmured.
“We’re so…all-business, aren’t we,” Griff murmured.
“We’re not that old,” Theo protested.
“We’re not that young, either,” Daniel countered. “We’re both well over thirty now.”
A Season of Miracles Page 18