Kingsley Baby Trilogy: The Hero's SonThe Brother's WifeThe Long-Lost Heir

by Amanda Stevens

“I thought that was you,” the woman said with a satisfied smile. “I was so sorry to hear about Andrew. What an awful time you must have had.”

  “Thank you,” Hope murmured, resenting the intrusion in spite of herself.

  The woman threw Jake a curious glance. “He was so handsome,” she said almost pointedly, as if she’d somehow sensed the heat flashing between him and Hope. “Such a charmer. I can’t imagine how much you must miss him.”

  “No,” Hope replied. “You really can’t.”

  “Well, it was good to see you again,” the woman said reluctantly, as if she wasn’t quite ready to leave. As if she might retrieve a bit of juicy gossip if she hung around long enough. “Please give Iris my regards.”

  Finally she drifted away, leaving Hope and Jake alone, but the moment of intimacy was gone, shattered once again by the intrusion of Andrew’s ghost.

  * * *

  HOPE WAS INFORMED as soon as she got home that Iris wanted to see her. She went straight up and knocked on Iris’s door, then entered when she heard Iris call out to her.

  Dressed in a beaded, royal purple evening gown and seated arrow-straight on her favorite chair in her sitting room, Iris looked as queenly as Hope had ever seen her. She beckoned to Hope with a hand heavily bejeweled in diamonds and amethysts, looking for all the world like a woman who would be presiding over a state dinner in a few hours rather than the family’s evening meal.

  “You look wonderful,” Hope said. “What’s the occasion?”

  “We’ll get to that in a moment.” She motioned Hope to the settee across from her and waited until Hope had settled herself before she spoke again. “There is something quite important I wish to discuss with you, but first, tell me what you’ve been up to, my dear. I haven’t seen much of you lately. How have you been occupying yourself?”

  An alarm sounded inside Hope. Had Michael told Iris about her and Jake’s investigation? Possibilities flitted through Hope’s mind. Should she pretend ignorance? Flat-out deny it? What would Jake do?

  Then it came to Hope. Jake would try to turn the situation to his advantage. He would try to gather as much information as he could, maybe even go on the offensive and use the element of surprise to observe Iris’s reaction.

  “You have a flair for police work, Hope.”

  Let’s hope you’re right, she thought.

  She glanced up at Iris and smiled. “Actually, I’ve been doing a bit of research lately. There’s an organization I saw mentioned somewhere—I don’t remember exactly where—that’s aroused my curiosity. I’ve been trying to learn more about it.”

  “What organization is that, my dear?”

  “An underground political group called the Grayson Commission. Have you ever heard of it?”

  Something flashed in Iris’s eyes, a glint of recognition before she quickly suppressed it with a look of mild curiosity. “I don’t believe so. But then, the Kingsleys have never been interested in subversive movements. Our political views are very open and straightforward, and for the most part, in tune with mainstream America. Tell me something, my dear.” Her eyes glittered like sapphires as she eyed Hope for a long, silent moment. “Is this Grayson Commission something Jake McClain dug up for you?”

  Hope’s heart thudded against her chest. So much for the offensive. She should have known better than to try to match wits with Iris Kingsley. “How long have you known?”

  “That you’d hired Jake to investigate Michael?” Iris’s smile was as cool as frostbite. “Almost from the beginning. You didn’t really think you could keep it from me, did you?”

  Hope rubbed a temple with her fingertips. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that, but I felt it was something I had to do. I was worried about you. I still am. But if you want me to move out, just say the word. I’ll understand.”

  Hope realized a part of her wanted desperately for Iris to say, “Yes, that’s exactly what I want. Pack your bags, Hope, and don’t come back.” Then her obligation to Andrew’s grandmother would be alleviated. She could leave with a clear conscience. But instead, Iris gazed at her fondly, the frost melting from her smile. “My dear, that is the last thing I want. You are a part of this family, Hope. You’re a Kingsley. Don’t ever forget that.”

  “But…you aren’t angry with me?”

  “Angry? For caring whether a grief-stricken old woman might be duped by a devious impostor?” Iris’s expression hardened. “You are the only member of this family who had enough guts to go against my wishes and hire an investigator. And while I may not agree with your choice, I can’t quibble with your motives. Angry with you? If anything, my admiration for you has grown. As has my gratitude. You did exactly what I would have done in your place.”

  This was going too well, Hope thought uneasily. Iris was up to something.

  “Well, now that it’s all out in the open,” Iris said briskly, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from the skirt of her gown, “tell me, what has Jake learned about our Michael?”

  “Several things, actually,” Hope answered vaguely, uncertain how much she wanted to reveal to Iris at this point. She remembered Jake’s warning that they mustn’t discount Iris’s power or her willingness to use it.

  Iris toyed with a diamond ring on her finger. “Has he found anything that proves Michael is anyone other than who he claims to be?”

  “No,” Hope admitted reluctantly.

  “Anything that proves he is not Adam?”

  “No.”

  Iris smiled. “Then I don’t want to know anything else. You’ve told me all I need to know. And tonight, all your questions will be answered.”

  “What do you mean?” Hope demanded, a feeling of dread slipping over her.

  Iris’s eyes sparkled with undisguised excitement. “Victor called. The DNA tests are back. He will announce the results after dinner tonight. In a few short hours, everyone will know, as I already do, that Michael really is a Kingsley. He is my grandson.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The stage was set for drama, Hope decided as she descended the stairs later that evening. Iris had put out the word that dinner would be a formal affair and everyone was to dress accordingly. Hope had chosen a lavender Vera Wang, very simply but exquisitely cut, that she’d worn only once before. She’d pulled her hair back into a French knot and secured it with a diamond clasp, her only adornment other than the diamond studs in her earlobes.

  The Kingsley gardens and hothouses had been raided to provide dozens of lavish floral arrangements. The sweet, heady aroma of spring flowers filled the air, contrasting sharply with the dark feeling of dread that had been growing inside Hope since Iris’s announcement earlier.

  Tonight they would find out who Michael Eldridge really was.

  Hope felt a flutter of apprehension in her stomach. How would the revelation affect her? she wondered. Or would it?

  She wished that Jake could be there with her when she heard the news, but that was impossible. Jake would never be invited into the Kingsley home, and even if he was, he would be expected to use the rear entrance. Hope had the strongest desire to go through that back door herself, walk through the gardens to the cottage and find Jake. Ask him to take her away from all this—and she would never look back.

  But she knew she couldn’t do that. For her own peace of mind, she had to see this thing through. With any luck, she would be leaving this house in the near future. And she wouldn’t be coming back.

  As usual, everyone had gathered in the library for predinner cocktails. Hope wavered in the doorway, using the opportunity to study those already present. Iris, of course, she’d seen earlier, but the effect of her gown and jewels had not faded. The soft lighting in the library caught the beading of her dress and the ornate diamond-and-amethyst necklace at her throat, casting a rich glow over her features.

  Michael was at her side, as attentive and solicitous as always and looking as if he had been born to wear the tuxedo that fit his trim physique to perfection. />
  Seated on Iris’s other side was Victor Northrup, his silver hair gleaming in the soft light, his formal attire unmistakably Armani.

  Edward sat across from them, also formally dressed, but a sad parody of Victor’s elegance and Michael’s magnetism. He nursed a drink, probably not his first, and it struck Hope suddenly that he had more to gain or lose from the outcome of the evening than anyone else. He had already lost two sons and now, by unforeseen circumstances, one of them may have returned to the fold. What kind of emotional upheaval had Michael’s arrival in their lives caused Edward? And what effect would it have on him if Michael were to just as suddenly vanish?

  For the first time in a long time, Hope felt a rush of sympathy for her father-in-law. His drinking had always disgusted her, but now she saw so clearly how the tragedy thirty-one years ago might have made him turn to the solace of the bottle. His three-year-old son had been kidnapped from his own home, and as a result, public sympathy for the Kingsley family had been so great that Edward had been elected governor several months later in a landslide victory. The guilt from capitalizing, even inadvertently, on his son’s tragic disappearance must have been devastating.

  “Hope,” Iris said, spotting her just inside the doorway. “Now, we’re all finally here.” Her dark blue eyes raked the room, acknowledging in her own way everyone present. Her gaze warmed when it rested on Hope, beamed when she turned to Michael, softened fondly as she patted Victor’s arm, saddened when she looked at Edward, and then, very subtly, hardened when it fell on Pamela, dressed in pristine white, and Jeremy, who leaned an elbow against the fireplace and stared at Michael.

  From their expressions, Hope couldn’t tell who knew what. It was maddening. Why couldn’t Victor just tell them what he knew? Why put them through all this?

  Because Iris wants her night, Hope thought. And Iris always gets what she wants.

  As if reading her thoughts, Iris said, “Come sit by me, Hope.” She patted the sofa next to her.

  Hope, very much aware of Pamela and Jeremy watching her, moved across the room and sat down. Iris smiled in approval. “You look lovely tonight. Doesn’t she, Michael?”

  “Incredible,” he agreed, his dark eyes mocking Hope.

  Without warning, Iris lifted her hands and unfastened the heavy necklace from around her neck. Hope watched the sliding sparkle of diamonds and amethysts as Iris captured them in her hand. “There,” she said, holding the necklace in her palm. “These would be wonderful with your dress.”

  Hope’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh, I couldn’t. They looked so beautiful on you.”

  “Nonsense. I’m an old woman. I have lots of necklaces. I want you to have this.”

  For some reason, it seemed important to Iris that Hope accept the necklace, and it was just as important to Hope that she did not. She shook her head. “You told me once this necklace was a gift. I couldn’t possibly take it.”

  Iris sighed. “Very well, then. At least wear it tonight. You can return it to me in the morning.”

  It seemed a harmless enough request, but one Hope was still reluctant to grant. The necklace was yet another tie to the Kingsleys. However, Hope had little choice in the matter now. Iris was already reaching to fasten it around her neck, but then she stopped and said, “Michael, would you, please? My eyes aren’t what they once were.”

  Michael took the necklace from Iris and stood. He gazed down at Hope expectantly, and she rose also, standing with her back to him. He draped the sparkling jewels around her neck, his fingers caressing her nape as he struggled with the clasp. A chill shot through Hope. She glanced up to find Jeremy’s eyes not on her, but on the necklace. Then his gaze lifted, and she saw in those pale depths an emotion that looked very much like hatred.

  Michael’s finger slid along the bare skin of her neck. “There,” he murmured. “Now, you’re perfect.”

  “This night is perfect,” Iris declared, watching Hope and Michael approvingly. “One I’ve dreamed about for a long, long time. Three generations of Kingsleys, all together again at long last.”

  “Careful,” Michael warned, reclaiming his seat beside her. “Victor hasn’t told you what the DNA results are yet.”

  Iris lifted her hand to Michael’s cheek. “He doesn’t have to. I know who you are. I’ve known all along.” She turned, encompassing the whole group with her smile, but her gaze zeroed in on Hope. “There’s only one thing that could make me happier at this moment. If there were a fourth generation to carry on the Kingsley name and tradition.”

  Hope’s heart plummeted. Surely Iris wasn’t still entertaining thoughts of her and Michael producing a Kingsley heir together. Hadn’t he told Iris what she’d said? That as soon as everything was settled she was leaving?

  Victor came up beside Hope. “Will you excuse us? I need to speak with Iris for a moment.”

  “Of course.” Hope moved away as Victor sat down beside Iris and started talking to her in a low tone. Michael got up, also, and went over to engage Edward in conversation, while Pamela and Jeremy watched, as usual, from a distance.

  Hope walked to the French doors and stared out. Something moved in the garden, and her heart leaped in alarm. Then she recognized the shadow. Glancing over her shoulder, assuring herself that everyone was preoccupied for the time being, she opened the door and slipped out into the softly falling twilight.

  At the edge of the terrace, out of sight of anyone inside, she called softly, “Jake?”

  “Over here.”

  She moved toward his voice, finding him in the deeper shadows of the garden. He wore jeans and a T-shirt, and his hair was damp, as if he’d just come from the shower.

  For the longest moment, he stared down at her. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  Hope touched the necklace with her fingertips, feeling the thud of her pulse against her throat. Strange after all this time that Jake could still do that to her.

  “I used to see you this way sometimes when I’d be here visiting Pop. I’d watch you come out of the house, wearing something that cost more than I made in a month, and I’d think how perfect you looked. How much you belonged in a place like this.”

  “But you were wrong,” Hope said softly. “This isn’t me. The gown, the jewels, all the trappings of wealth. I tried to pretend I belonged here. At first, I even managed to convince myself this is what I wanted. But deep down, I knew I could never really fit in here. That I didn’t even want to.” She reached down and took his hand, drawing their linked fingers up to her cheek. “I’m a cop’s daughter, Jake. I should have been a cop’s wife.”

  His eyes closed briefly. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?”

  “Too long,” she whispered.

  He loosened his fingers from hers and drew his knuckles down her cheek. “When all this is over…”

  Her throat knotted. “I know.”

  He said nothing else, just stared down at her with a look that captured her breath. Words were not needed, but the emotion flowing between them was almost a tangible thing.

  “I’d better get back inside,” Hope said with a sigh. “Someone may come looking for me. I’ll be in touch later to let you know what happens.”

  “You do that,” he said, his gaze dark and intense. “Because I’ll be waiting.”

  * * *

  DINNER WAS A CAREFULLY orchestrated affair, but Hope couldn’t quite figure out Iris’s strategy behind the seating arrangement, although she knew there must have been one. Iris was at the head of the table, with Edward on her left and Michael on her right. But instead of placing Hope on Michael’s right, as she’d expected and feared, she found herself seated between Edward and Victor Northrup.

  Across the table, Pamela was to Michael’s right, with Jeremy on her right, and every time Hope looked up, she found Jeremy’s pale gaze upon her. What was he thinking? she wondered. Did he already know, as Jake suspected he did, who Michael Eldridge really was? Were Jeremy and Pamela responsible for bringing him here?

>   The courses were served and removed as the meal wore on, and Hope hardly remembered the taste of anything. She knew the food was delicious, though, because Iris wouldn’t have it any other way. The sauces would be rich and creamy, the soup aromatic and savory, the lamb succulent and tender, the asparagus and rosemary potatoes fresh and seasoned to perfection. And the bottles of wine would have been carefully chosen from Iris’s own private cellar to complement each course.

  “You aren’t eating much tonight,” Victor commented, when yet another of Hope’s plates had been removed virtually untouched.

  She shrugged. “I had a late lunch.”

  Victor lifted his wineglass and examined the contents. “I was afraid you might have been offended by Iris’s not-so-subtle comment about propagating the Kingsley line.”

  Hope blushed. “Iris has always wanted a great-grandchild. She’s never made any bones about that.”

  “Yet you and Andrew never complied. I’ve always wondered why.”

  Hope shrugged, having no intention of getting into her and Andrew’s private affairs with Victor, no matter how close he might be to the family.

  “Iris is very fond of you, you know. She thinks of you as a granddaughter. I’m sure she’d like nothing more than to keep you in the family.”

  Hope glanced up at him. Had Iris said something to him about her wishes for Hope and Michael?

  “I’m very fond of Iris as well,” Hope said. “But I intend to move out of this house as soon as possible. My husband is dead. It’s time I get on with my life.”

  “You could do that here,” he replied. “Andrew’s estate left you very little, but if you continue on at the mansion, you wouldn’t have to worry about your future. Iris would make sure you never wanted for anything. And all you’d have to do…” He trailed off, gazing at her curiously. “Well. It’s a little premature to be thinking long-term, isn’t it? I haven’t announced the DNA results yet.”

  The back of Hope’s neck prickled with unease. He may not have made the announcement yet, but she thought he’d just given her a significant clue as to how the tests had turned out.