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Red Clover Inn--A Romance Novel

Page 9

by Carla Neggers


  “I know. A shame.” Samantha sighed. “My folks are worried about her, too. My cousin Isaac said Charlotte didn’t seem her usual kick-ass self at the wedding.”

  “She seemed kick-ass to me. She got Greg Rawlings to bed.”

  Samantha spun around at Justin. “What?”

  Justin leaned against the door frame. “Not that kind of bed. Into his room. He was dead on his feet. Ian Mabry saw them and told me.”

  “And I missed it?”

  “It was the night before the wedding, Sam.”

  “Ah. Right. I was pacing, wondering if I would trip walking down the aisle to meet you.”

  “Did you consider not showing up?”

  “No. Not for an instant. As a Bennett event, our wedding was quiet—and it was perfect, everything I’d ever dreamed of. Especially you.”

  “Is that why you’re coming up with blackmailers and stalkers right now? Missing the Bennett drama?”

  “Hmm. Gee. Let me think. Blackmailers and stalkers or visiting the Royal Botanic Garden with you and then walking back to our beautiful hotel for drinks and dinner. Which would I prefer? Want to take a guess?”

  Justin stood straight and walked over to her, then slipped his arms around her. “Not bored, are you?” he asked softly.

  “Not even close. You weren’t worried, were you?”

  “No.” He kissed her on the lips, then the forehead. “I appreciate that you care about your family. It’s one of your charms.”

  “Most of your family is just hours away in England.”

  “One of the hazards of a destination wedding. Brandon and Maggie will leave us alone. They’ll have enough to do keeping their eye on Tyler and Aidan. Good thing they’re staying with Heather and Brody. It’ll take them to manage the boys, too.”

  “Your nephews are adorable.”

  “Adorable and busy. They researched everything they could do in London. My folks have their own itinerary. My dad will keep my mother from calling us, and Adam—he could be staying down the hall from us at the Waldorf and we’d never know it.”

  “A quiet guy but also a rock-solid, hardheaded Sloan.”

  “Funny how you fit right in. The Bennetts will leave us alone?”

  “They don’t even know we’re in Scotland.”

  Justin grinned. “Smart woman.”

  Samantha laughed. “I know my family.”

  They returned to the living room. She gave up on finding any obvious clues at Charlotte’s apartment but at least she was less concerned that Charlotte was in imminent trouble. They locked up and headed out of the courtyard, resuming their leisurely walk to the botanic garden.

  “You’re a good cousin, but Charlotte will be fine in Knights Bridge.” Justin encircled Samantha’s waist with a thick arm. “She’s in a good place with good people.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  * * *

  The Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh was Samantha’s favorite place in Edinburgh. Its seventy acres of lush gardens and walks never failed to enthrall and soothe her, but today, visiting with Justin for the first time, on their honeymoon, was extra special. There was so much to see in Edinburgh. The famous castle overlooking the city was a short walk from their hotel. They’d have time to head up there in the morning before they left the city.

  “On my very first visit to the gardens, I imagined coming here on my honeymoon, with the man I loved.” She smiled at Justin. “And here I am.”

  “It’s a good place to start a honeymoon.”

  Arm in arm, she and Justin wandered the grounds, ending with the ten magnificent Victorian glasshouses for which the garden was so famous. They traveled through a variety of miniclimates, from tropical to semiarid, with their displays of orchids, palms, water lilies, cacti and countless other plants.

  By the time they had settled at their table on the outdoor deck at the contemporary cafeteria and had ordered tea and cake, Samantha was again thinking about her cousin. “I’m obsessing,” she admitted. “I know Charlotte will manage if Greg Rawlings is at the inn. I wasn’t worried about her dealing with bats. Why worry about him?”

  “I won’t tell him you compared him to a bat,” Justin said, amused. “Why don’t you check in with her? Put your mind at ease.”

  Samantha snatched up her phone. “I will, and then I’ll be done,” she said even as she typed.

  How are you? Do you love KB?

  The waiter delivered their pot of tea, enough for two, then brought the cake, a traditional Victoria sponge cake filled with cream and raspberry jam. “We’ll have to take the long route back to the hotel after this,” she said.

  “Or the short route. There are other ways to burn calories.”

  She laughed. “So there are.”

  She saw she had a return text from Charlotte.

  Aren’t you on your honeymoon?

  Justin and I are having tea at RBGE. You?

  I love KB. All fine here. Could have warned me about Rawlings.

  Samantha grimaced.

  He’s there, then?

  Yes.

  Not a setup. I swear. I didn’t know at first. I figured he wouldn’t show up.

  It’s okay. He’s amusing himself looking for bats and mice.

  Can you relax with him there?

  It’s a big inn.

  It wasn’t that big, but Samantha didn’t argue. Charlotte seemed fine—but she would, wouldn’t she? She wouldn’t want to upset Samantha on her honeymoon.

  You’re sure it’s okay?

  Positive. Enjoy your honeymoon. Hi to Justin.

  Samantha looked up at him. “Charlotte says hi.”

  “Tell her hi back.”

  She relayed his response.

  Justin says hi.

  And goodbye? ;-) Enjoy Scotland. TTYL.

  And that was that. Charlotte was gone. Samantha returned her phone to her bag and eyed her cake. “Have you ever seen a cake this perfect? It’s almost too pretty to eat.”

  “But you’re going to,” Justin said, pouring tea.

  “Every bite.” She noticed he was studying her as he set the teapot back on the table. “Justin? What?”

  “Nothing. It’s fine.”

  “No, tell me. Charlotte’s okay. She’s a grown-up. She can handle Agent Rawlings.”

  “Wasn’t thinking about them. I was thinking about you. All these times in Scotland and you don’t have a kilt, do you?”

  “I do not have a kilt, no.”

  “Never wanted one?”

  “Never thought about it. I had one as a toddler. I wore little green kneesocks and saddle shoes.”

  “There are pictures?”

  “Oh, yes. I was cute as hell, I want you to know.”

  “You’d look good in a kilt now. You could skip the kneesocks. I, however, would not look good in a kilt.”

  “I differ with you on that one.” She smiled. “Wholeheartedly.”

  He dipped his fork into his cake. “No kilt.”

  Samantha relaxed, breathing in the familiar scents in the cool Scottish air and relishing the breeze. “Charlotte, Greg Rawlings, your family—they’ll all manage without us for ten days.”

  “Starting now?”

  She smiled again, relaxing. “Starting now.”

  She pretended it was the steam from the tea that was reddening her cheeks, since she had no doubt they’d turned red. Everything about this man made her feel warm, loved and wanted. Tommy had never done that for Charlotte. Worse, he’d undermined her faith in love and romance and their possibilities in her life. Maybe this trip to Knights Bridge would help. Samantha looked at Justin next to her, her emotions welling up as she realized what Knights Bridge had done for her.

  He took her hand. “It’s suppos
ed to rain later.”

  “Perfect.”

  His gaze settled on her. “That’s what I was thinking.”

  “We can laze around at the hotel.”

  His eyes narrowed, a deep, sexy blue in the graying light. “That’s not what I was thinking.”

  Eight

  Knights Bridge, Massachusetts

  Charlotte paused at the entrance to the Swift River Country Store on Main Street, around the corner from Smith’s and opposite the oval-shaped town common. Greg had decided to join her to buy groceries and a few necessities. They’d walked together from the inn. They hadn’t said much. She was preoccupied with Samantha’s unexpected texts from Scotland. Charlotte didn’t want Samantha worrying about anything on her honeymoon—especially not about me.

  Did Samantha suspect something?

  “Lost in thought?” Greg asked next to her.

  She smiled. “Guilty as charged. I’m just tired from my trip. I haven’t flown across so many time zones in a while.”

  He didn’t look convinced. No doubt he was trained in reading people and had experience in detecting BS when he heard it. Charlotte was glad she didn’t have anything serious to hide.

  She decided not to dig herself in any deeper. “It’s a pretty place,” she said. “I wonder how different it would be if Quabbin Reservoir hadn’t been built. I saw some peeks of it this morning. Beautiful. Hard to believe there once were towns where there’s now water.”

  “This store was open before the valley was dammed and flooded in the 1930s,” Greg said. “I learned that when I was here this winter. The locals call it Hazelton’s, after the original owners.”

  “The Hazelton family has some twisting link to one of Harry Bennett’s college buddies,” Charlotte said. “They went to Amherst College together.”

  “Your cousin Isaac’s starting there this fall. Seems like a smart kid.”

  “He wants his dad to let him use the Mercedes-Benz.”

  “Fat chance?”

  “I suspect so. The Hazelton-Bennett connection ultimately is what brought Samantha to Knights Bridge.”

  “I thought it was pirate treasure.”

  “It was. Samantha and I haven’t had a chance to get into all the details on her theories about pirate treasure. I think she was destined to be in Knights Bridge the day she and Justin met.” Charlotte smiled. “They’re in Edinburgh for the first part of their honeymoon.”

  “Checking up on you?”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you’re a woman with secrets.” He opened the door to the country store and motioned for her to go in first. “After you.”

  “I hope every woman has secrets,” she said, slipping past him.

  The rustic store with its worn floorboards and old-time feel seemed to carry everything from groceries to hardware supplies and rain gear. A handful of people were at the register and in the aisles. Charlotte wondered if any of them assumed she and Greg were a local couple running errands on a beautiful June morning. She was a marine archaeologist with an Edinburgh-based institute, in denial about her medical clearance to dive. Greg was a Diplomatic Security Service agent taking a break between assignments. There was no way they belonged together. His crack about her secrets didn’t help, but she admitted his sexy presence energized her. He kept her on her toes. She’d kick jet lag fast with him around.

  “Don’t worry about any problems at the inn,” he said as they headed toward the produce section. “I’m handy with bats, mice, and the odd leak and creaky board, and I like to stay busy. You can kick back and relax.”

  “You’re the one who passed out in your booth the other night.”

  “Dozed off.”

  “Mmm. Just so you know, I prefer a humane approach with stray rodents.”

  “That’s what you say now. Wait until you wake up in the middle of the night with a bat flapping in your room.” He grinned. “Don’t look so horrified. I’ll hold to the humane line even if you start yelling ‘Shoot it, shoot it.’”

  “I won’t be yelling anything. If a bat’s in my room, I’ll deal with it myself.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know. Throw a blanket over it.”

  “Then what do you do with the blanket with the bat in it?”

  “Toss it out the window. I’ll manage. You aren’t seriously concerned about bats, are you?”

  “I never joke about bats.”

  Charlotte shuddered. “Ugh. Well, I can’t imagine anything in Knights Bridge would give you pause considering your line of work.” She stopped in front of an array of fresh greens. “Do you cook?”

  “I get by. You?”

  “The basics. I’m not a fussy eater.”

  “We’re going to get along great. Knights Bridge doesn’t even have a good pizza place in the village, but we’ve got Smith’s for breakfast and lunch. My kids will think they’re roughing it. They arrive Wednesday.”

  Charlotte didn’t hide her surprise. “Kids? Wednesday?”

  “I should have mentioned it at breakfast but I didn’t get to it,” Greg added, grabbing two apples from a bin. “They’re coming to visit me.” He placed the apples in his basket. “They cook.”

  “I wouldn’t have guessed you’re old enough to have teenagers.”

  “All legal and everything, but I did marry young. Divorce was finalized earlier this year. It was a long time coming.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. She’s happy, kids are happy. All is good.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Sun’s shining and I’m upright, picking out fruits and vegetables with a kick-ass diver.”

  Charlotte smiled. He did have a way about him. She examined the various greens. They all looked reasonably fresh. She and Greg didn’t have a grocery list and hadn’t conferred on what to buy ahead of time, but she figured they’d manage. With the store so close to the inn, they could be somewhat spontaneous and easily pick up items they’d missed.

  “I’ll eat anything but kale,” he said.

  “I like kale.”

  “Then you probably also like spinach, which I’ll eat.”

  It was true—she did like spinach. The store had local red-leaf lettuce. She decided on that for now and loaded a head into a bag while Greg added bananas to his basket.

  “How’s the food in Edinburgh?” he asked.

  “Great. I don’t cook much. I had scones at a tea shop before I left yesterday.”

  “I had scones yesterday, too. Don’t you feel a little as if we were kidnapped by aliens?”

  Charlotte laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  They moved through the aisles, adding a few more basic food items and supplies to their baskets. Greg scooped up two individual frozen turkey potpies, locally made. Charlotte loved the idea of baking them on a cool evening. She could almost smell the buttery, flaky crust. She doubted he was as enthralled with her bag of granola and glass jar of yogurt, also locally made.

  They set their baskets on the checkout counter. She started to get out her wallet, but he shook his head. “I’ll get this one. You can get the next one. I’ll pay for anything for my kids. It’ll work out. I’m not into spreadsheets.”

  “Works for me. Thanks.”

  They each took a grocery bag as they started out of the store. “I won’t get in your way at the inn,” he said.

  “No problem. I won’t get in your way, either.”

  “It’s a big place. You won’t even know I’m there.” He grinned at her, letting the door swing shut behind them. “We already have proof of that.”

  “Would you have known I was there if our situations had been reversed?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Probably true. Charlotte s
quinted in the bright morning sun. She couldn’t have asked for a more perfect day to start her stay in Knights Bridge.

  “You’re not going to sneak off in Great-Uncle Harry’s Mercedes-Benz?” Greg asked.

  She smiled at him. “Let’s see how it goes with the mice and bats.”

  Across the street, nursery-school children gathered in a circle in the shade of a maple tree on the common. The common was surrounded with classic homes, businesses, churches, town offices and a public library. From what Charlotte had gathered from Samantha, Knights Bridge and its residents defied stereotypes. It might look as if time had stood still in the little New England town for the past century, but it hadn’t. Change had occurred even in the relatively short time Samantha had been here. Who could have imagined a treasure-hunting pirate expert marrying a Knights Bridge Sloan?

  Charlotte started down the sidewalk toward their street. Greg walked easily next to her. “I think I got the heavier bag,” she said lightly.

  “Damn, I hope so. Jet lag’s killing me.”

  “Ha.”

  “I can suck it up and carry both bags if you’d like. Ready to topple over?”

  “I’m fine, thanks, although the thought of a hammock in the shade has a certain appeal.”

  He sighed. “It sure does.”

  “I wonder if there’s a hammock at the inn, tucked in a shed or a storage room.”

  “Let’s get these groceries put away and I’ll have a look.”

  When they reached the inn, they went in through the front door. “After you,” Greg said, letting her go ahead of him down the hall to the kitchen.

  “Making sure you’re there to catch me if I do topple over?”

  “It’d serve you right after the hard time you gave me in England.”

  “I didn’t give you a hard time. I helped you up the stairs to bed.” She set her bag on the counter by the sink. The kitchen was spotless and in working order, if dated. “We’d both have been in a mess if you’d toppled over. Fatigue has a nasty way of letting itself be known, no matter how hard we try to deny it.”

  “Best to deal with fatigue before it deals with you.”

  “Fortunately, I’m only tired because of my trip.”

  He set his bag next to hers. “Is that right?”

 

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