Eyre House

by Caitlin Greer

  “I thought I just did that?”

  She laughed and turned to me with that look of full-on trouble. “That was nice, I’ll admit. But you still haven’t even kissed me. And I know you want to. It would cheer me up immensely.”

  I hadn’t kissed her, but she’d kissed me. The sexiest non-kiss I’d ever had.

  “Nothing’s changed since the last time I said no. You’re still the very off-limits daughter of my employer. And when has seducing the staff ever been a good idea?”

  She gave me an up and down that said plainly she thought it was a very good idea. “I told you, Mama has practically given me her blessing.”

  I leaned against the Jeep and put a hand on either side of her. “Well when she does actually give her blessing,” I said, watching her lick her lips from inches away, “that’s when I’ll kiss you.”

  I pulled away before she could close the distance between us, and walked around to my seat. Ginny turned and watched me, a challenge flashing in her eyes, and then smiled.

  “I suppose I’ll just have to get it, then.”

  It wasn’t until way later that I realized she’d completely side-stepped the issue of the fire.

  Chapter Seven

  With Ginny’s quick thinking, Ms. Catherine never noticed a thing. But then, with one guest or another constantly after her attention, that shouldn’t have come as a surprise. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about it. I spent the day checking every fire alarm in the house, replacing batteries in all of them whether they needed it or not. The one on our hall I replaced all together.

  There was nothing new waiting for me that night, but I wasn’t sure I really looked hard enough to find out. I didn’t want to find anything. Still, I dreamed of fire and woke at every noise until I finally got up around five and went for a run.

  When I came down again after showering, I found Ms. Catherine staring out the front door with her mouth pressed in a firm line. It was the first time I’d seen her alone in days. She glanced up at me when she heard my footsteps.

  “There you are, Evan, honey. Have you seen Ginny this morning?”

  “I think she’s still packing, ma’am. Would you like me to get her?”

  “Thank you, darlin’. Let her know her father is here.” She sighed, and I waited, feeling like she wasn’t finished. She looked tired and defeated and angry. “You ought to warn her that he’s brought the Ingrams with him.” I raised my eyebrow, and she laughed a sad laugh. “Yes, it is that bad.”

  “I’ll let her know, then.”

  I walked back up the steps, leaving Ms. Catherine staring out the door. I caught Ginny just coming out of her room.

  “Your father’s here, apparently. Ms. Catherine said to warn you he’s brought the Ingrams with him.”

  Ginny kicked her suitcase. “Fuck me straight to hell.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I did get that impression.”

  She fell back against the wall. “Damn him. I can’t believe he’s bringing them with us.”

  “What’s with them?”

  She sighed and pushed off the wall. “Blanche Ingram is a psychopathic, boyfriend-stealing bitch. Her older brother Brandon is a woman-using asshole. They both think they’re God’s gift to mankind, and Daddy thinks that, because they’re one of the wealthiest families in Charleston that I should be head over heels for them both.” She looked up sharply. “Please tell me that he didn’t bring their mother as well.”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Good. It’s bad enough that I have to put up with the kids he’d rather were his.”

  I cocked my head and really looked at the way she was fidgeting. “You dated the Ingram boy, didn’t you?”

  She looked away, and I grinned.

  “It only lasted a week,” she said, half pouting. “I found out he was sleeping with Millie Woodruff on the side and dropped him so fast his privileged little head spun”

  “If he’s such a douche, why did you go out with him?”

  Ginny shrugged, still not looking at me. “I was bored. And Daddy wanted me to.”

  I stepped in close to her, close enough that she had to look at me. Close enough to feel her breath on me.

  “So you’re saying I should be jealous.” I wasn’t sure when I’d started flirting back. I shouldn’t have been. I didn’t even know when I’d gone from being her target to wanting to beat up the next person who looked at her wrong. I didn’t care, either. Player or not, I was gone on her. And I was beginning to recognize a different side of her. More vulnerable.

  She smiled viciously. “I’m saying I would be eternally grateful if you would run them over with your Indian.”

  “Hmm. I almost think your mother would be happy with me doing that.”

  “Damned right she would be.” Her tone was still grouchy, but that finally got a smile out of her. She brought her hands up between us and placed them on my chest. “And then you know she’d be more than happy at the idea of you and me.”

  “There is no you and me.”

  She stared up at me coyly, from under her eyelashes, and didn’t miss a beat. “There could be.”

  Didn’t I know it. “And here I thought she’d practically given you her blessing already. Isn’t that what you said?”

  Her thumbs rubbed at my chest and she looked back down. She was dancing around with her words, like she knew there was a chink in my armor and it was only a matter of time before she found it. “You know, my father’s going to throw Brandon at me this whole trip.”

  “I have no doubt you’re sure enough of your own mind to send him packing.”

  She pushed me away with a smile. “Aren’t you even the slightest bit jealous?”

  I grinned. “No. I haven’t seen either of them yet, but I’m pretty sure I can handle this Brandon asshole if I needed to. Besides that, I think you forgot that we’re not dating.”

  “Ha. Minor details, sugar. And you could take him. But you wouldn’t be able to handle the assault charges he’d throw at you after.” She made a face at that.

  I laughed and leaned in close, careful to keep my hands to myself. “Who said I’d leave him alive to press charges?”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Her eyes fell to her things, and she sighed, her face falling. “I suppose I ought to get down there, oughtn’t I?”

  I decided to throw her a bone. “Would you like me to carry your case?”

  “Yes please,” she said with a heady grin. “That way I can show you off.”

  I laughed. “And make Brandon jealous?”

  “That, and make Blanche’s eyes fall out of her head. But you’re absolutely forbidden to flirt with her.”

  “I promise to ignore her completely. Even though you and I aren’t dating.”

  I smiled and took her bag downstairs, suddenly annoyed when I saw the skinny, preppy prick standing in front of a black Rolls Royce, looking at Ginny like he owned her. He had that “cute” hair, the kind that was gelled within an inch of its life and then purposely made messy. It was peaked in front and spiked in the back and basically just made him look like he was trying way too hard. Which I was sure he was. The rest of him was absurdly nondescript. Some girls probably thought he was good-looking. He sure did. I just thought he came off like a wuss. Especially when he openly leered at her.

  “Virginia Eyre, you are looking fabulous.”

  She didn’t even bother glancing at him. “Stop putting on airs, Brandon. It’s been Ginny since I was four, and you know it.”

  I glanced back at Ginny and smirked. The chauffer took her bag. I decided to lay it on a little thick while we both ignored the Ingram idiot. I turned back and gave her a short bow.

  “Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Ginny?”

  Ginny’s eyes flashed at me. “You’ve been very helpful, thank you, Evan.” She leaned in on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against the corner of my mouth. My pulse jumped. “Watch out behind you,” she whispered.

  I glanc
ed behind me. Brandon’s eyes had narrowed to a glare, and his smug smile was gone. I smirked at him.

  “Holy mother of God, Ginny. You are not keeping that sweet bit of man-candy to yourself. Please tell me he’s coming with us.”

  The shrill voice came from within the tinted windows of the car. My eyebrow twitched, and I ignored who I could only assume was Blanche Ingram.

  “I told you to watch out,” Ginny whispered.

  No shit. “Could I get the door for you, Miss Ginny?”

  “Thank you, Evan. That would be lovely.”

  Brandon was glaring at me hard by then. “I can get it for her, if you don’t mind, Evan.”

  “Not at all,” I said, grabbing the door handle before he could, and handing Ginny into the Rolls. Brandon glared and followed, trying to slam the door after him. I didn’t let him. I also continued to ignore Blanche.

  The older man in the car, however, I couldn’t ignore. Especially when I recognized him. Ginny’s dad was Jonathan Fucking Drayton. Richest man in Charleston. I gave Ginny a quick look that screamed You didn’t tell me you were a Drayton! She just gave a barely-there shrug, and I dragged my attention back to her dad. “Mr. Drayton, sir.”

  “Thank you for taking care of my daughter and her things.”

  “You’re welcome, sir. Is there anything else I can do?”

  His cold brown eyes stared back at me. “Just close the door so that we can get on our way. Remind Virginia’s mother that we’ll have her back in time for her birthday on Friday.”

  “Yessir.” I moved to close the door, but Ginny stopped me as she leaned out. I dropped down so she could whisper in my ear.

  “Thank you.” Her thumb stroked the line of my jaw, but I could see a moment of true honesty in her eyes that said she really meant it.

  She settled back down, and I nodded at her, then her father. “Miss Ginny. Sir.”

  I shut the door and watched them drive away.

  “Thank you, Evan.”

  I hadn’t even heard Ms. Catherine come up behind me. “Ma’am?”

  The corner of her mouth twitched up. “It’s always nice to see someone put the Ingrams in their place.”

  I hesitated. “I get the impression there’s history there.”

  “Jonathan had an affair with Melvina Ingram. That’s why we’re divorced. He always hated that I wouldn’t give up my family name for his, anyway. And I never liked the woman, even before she started sleeping with my husband. I like her children even less.”

  I grinned. “Then I’m happy to oblige, Ms. Catherine.”

  She looked at me for a moment, the corner of her mouth still turned up in a half-smile. “I like you and Ginny together. You might even be good for her.”

  I choked on my surprise. “Ma’am?”

  “I match-make for a living, honey. I know a good couple when I see them.”

  I stared at her, unsure which part of that sentence surprised me more.

  “Oh dear. Nobody told you? It’s not just the ghosts that draw people here, Evan. Sure, we do a great bit of normal tourist beach housing, but I run matchmaking events year-round. You just haven’t been around for one yet. We’ve got one coming up this week, while Ginny’s away. But I’m afraid no one much likes to talk about it. You could say some of the folk around here think it’s a bit on the tawdry side, if you catch my meaning. But I like seeing people happy, and I’ve got a good eye for pairs.”

  I stared at her like a deer in headlights. I mean, it explained a lot. Why half the guests checked in as singles. Why there was always a man hanging on Ms. Catherine’s arm. Explained a bit about Ginny, too.

  But if by pairs, she means…

  She laughed. “Oh, relax. I have no intention of interfering with you. But I’m not blind, Evan, sweetie. And your tattoo and motorcycle don’t bother me. I’d have her choose you a hundred times over Brandon Ingram or any of his friends. Besides, Jonathan would absolutely hate the idea, and that makes me like you even more. Just do me a kindness and keep to your own bed.”

  Ms. Catherine turned to walk away but paused to speak over her shoulder. “Oh, I’ve got a large string of singles coming in this afternoon. I’d like you to be available in case Tom needs some help. And I believe Mrs. Millcote has some red beans and rice set aside for you, and she’s baking more of those benne seed cookies you like so much.”

  I swallowed my shock. “Yes, ma’am.”

  The week passed slowly with Ginny gone. Ms. Catherine kept me busy making the house look its best, and pushing food at me every chance she got. I stayed away from the singles events and kept my head down, and every free moment found me counting the hours until Friday.

  The house felt closer, more disapproving with Ginny gone, especially as it filled with singles turning to couples. Every creak, every groan berated me, told me I wasn’t good enough for her.

  And if the house felt strange without her here, delving into the attic was straight up insanity.

  Like most plantation houses, it was full to the gills with musty piles of old things. Canvas sheets made picture frames into shapeless forms whose corners poked out from beneath. Half un-sealed boxes sat on sagging and ancient furniture. Locked trunks more than half a century old almost white with dust. Ancient lamps, books, photo albums left open halfway through. So many lifetimes worth of once-prized belongings left to mildew and rot.

  The one thing the attic wasn’t full of was any sign of anything other than me losing my mind. A dustcoat thicker than a snowstorm covered everything, disturbed by every step I took but somehow, that just made it worse. The further into the attic I moved, the more I felt the house bearing down on me.

  Which was insane. I was insane for thinking it.

  I rattled the lock on a chest and felt crowded. I lifted a box flap and felt angry disapproval. I shifted a dustcover and swore the light went dim.

  And the more I thought about how much Ginny would or wouldn’t have enjoyed poking around up here, the closer the walls felt.

  So when the house groaned loudly after I peeked under a length of canvas and saw an old painting that could have been a dead ringer for Ginny in ten years, I was done. I kicked the rattraps I’d brought into the corner and got the hell out.

  At least the rest of the week was uneventful. No fires, no here-and-gone faces, no ghosts. No intruders. After my adventure in the attic, the house itself felt more subdued, the creaking quieter. No more thumping in the walls, or the attic, no noises that could be mistaken for ghosts or intruders or what have you. But I avoided poking around in any more dark corners. I’d leave that to Ginny.

  I still didn’t sleep much. And with Ginny gone, I had nothing to stop me from thinking about the weird things that had happened since I came to Eyre House. Despite the lack of anything happening, I spent every night expecting to wake up on fire again, only to find myself happily whole.

  I spent a lot of time telling myself I was going crazy. Which gave me time to wonder something even crazier.

  If all the weirdness stopped when Ginny was gone, was she fucked up enough to actually be behind it?

  It wasn’t a question I wanted to contemplate. So I didn’t.

  We spent all Thursday decorating for Ginny’s birthday party. Hanna and Alix came over to help. Ms. Catherine’s matchmaking victims had mostly trundled out, replaced by families. Seemed it was one of the highlights of the summer because even the guests got into it. Ms. Catherine said that many of the return guests made sure to book for the weekend of her daughter’s birthday, just because they had grown up with her.

  It made me happy to be a part of it.

  I woke Friday morning tense with anticipation. Nothing weird had happened, the sun had been out all week, and even though Ginny wouldn’t be back until around dinner, I didn’t care. I couldn’t help it. My pulse pounded every time a car pulled in the drive. I hung lights, drove her Jeep into town for supplies, and carted drinks and food and gifts. The whole time, I was so full of nervous energy I thought I would explode. And
I might’ve been imagining things, but even the house seemed thick with excitement, especially after I finished the last of the paint touch-ups outside. The place glowed.

  Hanna and Alix arrived with boys in tow, and were nice enough to introduce me around to all Ginny’s friends. When I finally ran out of things to do, Ms. Catherine sent me upstairs to clean up with a very pointed look.

  I showered and shaved, and put on one of the few nice shirts I owned, a button-front blue linen that always smelled like summer nights to me. I wore my best friend Jake’s shark tooth, my lucky totem, and wished that I owned some kind of cologne. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. It was only a party, not a date. But this week without Ginny had been unbearably long, and I wanted her to know it.

  And I needed to see her, if just to prove to myself that the niggling suspicion about her was wrong.

  My phone beeped.

  She’s here. -Alix

  I didn’t know when or how Alix had come by my number, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I just took the stairs two at a time.

  The back lawn was lit up like a stage when I got there, even though the sun was still an hour or more from setting. The local band Ms. Catherine had invited already played in a corner, covering some song that I was sure I should recognize. Mrs. Millcote and the kitchen had been cooking all day, throwing together a full lowcountry boil. My mouth watered at the smell of shrimp, corn, sausage and Old Bay. Long tables draped with newspaper stretched across the yard, with pot after pot of Frogmore Stew, Hoppin’ John, oysters, She-Crab Soup, and half a dozen other dishes. Another table was piled high with Huguenot Torte and my favorite, chocolate-espresso pots de crème with benne seed coins.

  Forget cake. This was a classic lowcountry party. Still, the sheer number of people completely caught me off guard.

  Half the damned island must’ve turned out.

  But in all the laughing and shouting and music and food, I couldn’t see her anywhere.

  “Evan!”

  I spun around, only to find Hanna at my back. “Any sign of her?”

  Hanna laughed. “She’s in the middle of that mob over there. Come on, hon. She sent me to find you.”