“Don’t worry about it. All the Fraziers keep their secrets. Would you put those rolls in that basket and cover them? Thanks. You’re a good sous chef. So where was I?”
“The clandestine nature of the Fraziers.”
“Clandestine. What a perfect word to describe them. Anyway, the point is that just because Alea puts up with Isla’s and Kirk’s endless gushing doesn’t mean she’s going to give the job to one of them. I know Colin’s already told her he thinks she should hire you, and I’m certainly going to vote for you.”
It looked like Jean was considered a member of the family. “Shouldn’t you get to know me a little first?”
Jean held up her hand with the bandaged finger. “I always vote for people who save my life.”
“It was hardly that. Although there was a lot of blood and the body doesn’t hold all that much. Who knows what could have happened?”
“I agree,” Jean said as she raised her glass in a toast. “I think you and I are going to get along quite well. Although I wish you weren’t quite so pretty.”
“No one’s ever said that to me before.”
“Honey, with some highlights, a good cut and some decent eye makeup—” She broke off, looking at Gemma in speculation.
“What?”
“I was just thinking of someone in town who’d be perfect for you, that’s all.” She got off the stool and went to the stove. She was half a foot taller than Gemma, and with her high heels she looked like she’d just stepped off a Paris runway. “You wouldn’t mind grating some cheese for me, would you? I figure I have about ten minutes before a Frazier starts demanding food. They eat enormous quantities of it, preferably all beef. I told Colin—”
“What did you tell me?”
The two women turned to look at him. He’d showered and changed into black slacks and a white shirt that wasn’t as snug as his other one had been. He looked very good, and Gemma couldn’t suppress the flutter that came to her heart and body. She had a vision of standing on tiptoe and slipping her arms around his neck. She could imagine how good his body would feel against hers.
“I can’t persuade you into a tie?” Jean said, going to him and putting her arms around his neck. She aimed to kiss his lips, but he turned his head away so her kiss fell onto his cheek.
Gemma turned away. Damn, damn, double damn! she thought. She was as bad as Isla in looking at a Frazier with wedding bells in her eyes.
“Is Gemma helping you cook or are you two hiding out in here?” Colin asked.
“Hiding,” Gemma and Jean said in unison.
“Your mother couldn’t possibly be thinking of hiring one of those two,” Jean said as Colin moved away from her and went to the stove.
“I hope not. What is all this?” he asked when he was standing beside Gemma.
“I have no idea, but it smells divine,” she said and took a step away from him. He smelled too good for her to be close to him.
“It does.” He picked up a lid. “Got a spoon?”
“Here,” Jean said from his other side as she handed him one.
“There you are!” Mrs. Frazier said from behind them. “Jean, dear, give me a glass of that wine. Better yet, Colin, pour me a shot of tequila.”
Gemma stayed by the stove and watched as Colin and Jean hurried to do her bidding. She couldn’t help thinking that they were a beautiful couple, her so tall and lovely, him so strong and masculine.
Mrs. Frazier dropped down onto the stool, threw back the shot Colin handed her, then chased it with half a glass of wine. “Now I feel better.”
“What has set you off into binge drinking?” Colin asked, an eyebrow raised.
“I hardly think that this small amount constitutes a binge. In fact—” Mrs. Frazier broke off as she drained the rest of the wine and held out her glass for more.
“Where is everyone?” Mr. Frazier asked as he came into the kitchen. “Alea, are you getting drunk? Without me? Colin! Alcohol quick!”
He grabbed another glass and poured his father a shot. After the second one, Mr. Frazier put the glass down and collapsed onto a stool next to his wife. “Alea, so help me, if you hire one of those two people I’ll divorce you.”
“If I were stupid enough to employ one of them, I’d let you,” she said.
Gemma, standing apart from the others, drew in her breath.
“Then Gemma gets the job?” Colin asked. He was standing beside Jean, the tequila bottle in his hand.
“Of course.” Mrs. Frazier looked around her son to Gemma. “I never had any doubt. When you saw those old documents I thought you were going to have an orgasm.”
“Mother!” Colin said, while Jean laughed.
Mrs. Frazier kept her eyes on Gemma. “You can’t imagine how much ridicule I’ve had to endure from my own family merely because I want to find out about our history. But right away I saw that you felt the same way I do. And Colin adores you!”
“Mother, I don’t think—” Colin began.
“Tristan,” Jean said loudly, and they all looked at her. “I was thinking that Gemma and Dr. Tris would make a wonderful couple.”
“Good,” Mr. Frazier said. “That boy needs a family.”
Gemma stepped forward to put her hands on the cool countertop; she needed something to hold on to or her knees were going to give way. She had the job. She really and truly had the job. For the next two years—or more—she’d be living in the pretty little guesthouse and finding out the secrets buried in those old documents. And she was being set up for a date with a local.
Right now, her future looked so good she thought she might investigate employment at William and Mary College. Maybe she could get a teaching position there and stay in Edilean forever.
They were all looking at her expectantly, but she didn’t want to tell them her thoughts. “What’s this Tristan’s doctorate in?” Gemma asked.
“Medicine,” Jean answered. “If you’d let me keep bleeding, he’d be here now.”
When the mention of Jean’s injury made people start asking questions, Gemma stepped to the back. The four of them were gathered around the island, listening intently to Jean’s story of how she’d cut herself, and how Gemma had come to her rescue. The screen door was nearby, so Gemma slipped outside.
She stopped near a tall bush that was covered with pink flowers and took a few deep breaths. This is it, she thought. This lovely place would be the site of her first full-time job.
“Overwhelmed?” Colin asked from behind her.
“No,” Gemma said. “Not at all.”
“My family isn’t scaring you off?”
“Just the opposite. But . . .”
“But what?”
“All of you, Jean included, seem very close to each other. I promise I’ll not intrude on you.”
“You’re no intrusion. Mother will want you at the house every night for dinner and—”
“Absolutely not!” Gemma said firmly. “I’m here to do a job, and that’s what I’ll do.”
Colin gave her a teasing smile that she’d seen before. “The truth is that you want to read while you eat, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah.”
“All right. I’ll tell Mother she can’t adopt you. With our sister in California now, Mom doesn’t have a girl to lavish gifts on. But don’t be surprised if new shoes show up now and then.”
“Jean says I need a hairdresser.” She hoped that mentioning her would make Colin say something about their relationship, such as saying there wasn’t one.
Colin frowned. “Jean sometimes oversteps herself. I think your hair is fine. We better go in. The other two will leave in the morning.”
“I hope no one tells them they’re not getting the job until after we eat. It won’t be a pleasant dinner with Isla and Kirk being miserable, and Jean has done a lot of work.”
“Compassion for your enemies,” Colin said as he held open the screen door and Gemma slipped under his arm to go back into the kitchen. “I like that.”
“Sorry, but it’s actually self-protection. When you do tell them, I want to be locked inside your room at the top of the house.”
“Hidden away with my old sheriff’s badge?”
“Exactly. Is that what started you on your lifelong pursuit of being a sheriff?”
He smiled. “Mom loves to tell the story of how I wore that badge continuously from the time I got it for my second birthday until I was eight. She likes to elaborate on how she used to have to tape it on me while I was in the tub with my brothers. Someday when you two are alone, ask her about it.”
“I will,” Gemma said, and a little thrill ran through her at the thought that she was going to be there and could ask questions. “That’s what you wanted. You said there was something you’d wanted as much as I wanted this job. You wanted to be the sheriff of Edilean.”
His smile was so warm that she took a step toward him. “Yes,” he said softly. “You’re exactly right.”
Neither of them saw that across the room, Jean was frowning at them.
4
GEMMA LAY IN bed, staring at the ceiling of Colin’s room, and wondered if it was safe yet to go downstairs. Last night’s dinner had been awkward, and at times truly unpleasant. She’d said very little, only complimenting Jean on her food, but otherwise remaining silent. She was afraid that if she spoke she’d somehow reveal that she’d been hired for the job.
She sat beside Colin, Jean on his other side, and across from them were Kirk and Isla, with Lanny in the middle. Mr. and Mrs. Frazier took the ends. Young Shamus had, somehow, managed to escape the ordeal.
Isla dominated the conversation as she told amusing stories of what went on at the university. She and Kirk had received their masters from other schools, so they hadn’t been there nearly as long as Gemma.
Isla was a good storyteller, and everyone laughed at her portrayals of professors and students. It was only when she started on Gemma that things got embarrassing.
“Gemma is our resident student,” Isla said. “She’s been there longer than a lot of the professors.”
“We call her Mother Goose,” Kirk chimed in.
“Yes,” Isla said as she took a bite. “Gemma is nearly always followed by a gaggle of football players. They trail after her all across campus.”
“You should hear her!” Kirk said as he went into a falsetto. “ ‘Who is Mussolini and what is a fascist?’ ‘Who wrote the Declaration of Independence and if I hear “John Hancock” even as a joke that person will be benched.’ ‘Why was it impossible for the South to win the War Between the States? Remember what Rhett said?’ “
Gemma was glad when no one but Isla laughed at his impersonation.
“What you did sounds quite laudable,” Mrs. Frazier said to Gemma as she cut Kirk an icy look.
When he didn’t seem to mind, Gemma guessed that he’d figured out that he wasn’t going to get the job. But it looked as though he thought Isla had won.
As for Isla, all evening she could hardly take her eyes off Lanny. They kept exchanging quick looks, and twice Isla gave what could be called a giggle.
Both times, Gemma and Jean looked at each other across Colin. The second time, he said, “Am I in your way? Would you two like to be together?”
“No,” Jean said, “I like the view.” She gave Colin a look that let him know that he was the view she liked.
Any doubts Gemma’d had about their being a couple were banished in that one look. Gemma kept her head down so no one could see her expression. She had the job, so she had no right to feel that she’d lost everything. But she did. It wasn’t easy to wait out what seemed to be an interminable meal. By the time they got to dessert, she was ready to run from the room. Part of her wanted to tell Isla that she wasn’t going to get the job, so she should stop making a fool of herself.
When the meal was finally over, Gemma was going to help clean up, but Mrs. Frazier dismissed the housekeeper and asked Isla and Kirk to “help.” She then left them with the entire job.
Gemma knew that when Isla and Kirk finished the cleanup, they were going to be in a foul mood. She didn’t want to be there. When she saw Shamus, an art kit under his arm, walk past the living room, she gave quick good nights to everyone and ran after him. He led her upstairs to Colin’s room and left her there. She was glad to escape the tension downstairs, but she was far from sleepy. When she was finally alone, she began to think about what it meant that she was going to work there. She hadn’t realized how much she’d been worrying about getting her dissertation done until the problem was solved.
She’d be living there two whole years, she thought as she undressed and put on her pajamas. And the more she learned about the job, the town, and the family, the happier she was with it all. The good time she’d had with Colin was just that. He’d be her friend, and that was going to have to be enough.
When she thought that tomorrow night she might be sleeping in the guesthouse, surrounded by all those original sources, she began to dance about the room. She’d have to fly home and pack up her belongings, then drive back to Virginia. All that would take at least a week, but as soon as it was done, she’d be able to start work.
She made herself stop twirling around and get into bed, but she couldn’t sleep, so she got her beloved Kindle out of her suitcase and looked up Luke Adams. Maybe if she read a little fiction, it would put her to sleep. She found his first book, pushed the BUY button, and the novel appeared on her screen about thirty seconds later. She started reading—and didn’t turn off the light until 3 A.M.
It was morning now, late for her, as she was usually at the gym by six or six-thirty every morning. She knew she should go downstairs, but if Isla and Kirk were still there and they’d been told they’d lost out to Gemma, they wouldn’t be gracious about losing.
“Gemma Ranford,” she said out loud, “you’re a coward.”
As she started to get out of bed, she glanced at her Kindle, with its black-and-white photo of Emily Dickinson, and she was tempted to slide the button and go back to reading. That this man, Luke Adams, wrote novels set in the eighteenth century fascinated her, and she really wanted to meet him.
She dressed quickly, then went down the outside stairs and into the kitchen. The housekeeper, Rachel, whom she’d met the day before, was there, but she wasn’t wearing a uniform. She had on jeans and a T-shirt and she was young and pretty, with dark hair and eyes. She didn’t look like anyone’s idea of a housekeeper.
“The winner!” Rachel said as soon as she saw Gemma in the doorway.
“That I am,” Gemma said as she sat down at the island. “Who’s up?”
“Scared of Isla’s wicked mouth, are you?” Rachel asked as she pulled a tray full of biscuits out of the oven.
“Terrified.”
“You can rest easy because Mrs. F ran them both out this morning. It wasn’t a pretty scene.”
“Really?” Gemma’s eyes were wide.
Rachel lowered her voice. “Seems Isla and Lanny did the naughty last night.”
Gemma laughed. “I could see that Mrs. Frazier wouldn’t like that.”
“Lanny is a flirt. Did he come on to you?”
“Not at all.”
“Oh, that’s right. Mrs. F put you under Colin’s protection, didn’t she? About the only thing that makes Lanny back off is whenever his big brother lays claim to something.”
“It was hardly that,” Gemma said, but she was pleased to hear it. “Colin and I went into town for lunch because I was late. Could I have one of those biscuits?”
“Nope. I was told that if you came in here I was to send you into the dining room to eat with what’s left of the Frazier family. Lanny’s been sent back to Richmond in disgrace.” Rachel grinned. “It’ll probably be three or four whole days before his mother forgives him. And Shamus is with his school buddies.”
“What about Colin and Jean?”
“Colin’s at work, and she’s gone. Jean just shows up, does something marvelous, jumps on Colin, then goes away to
be a lawyer.”
Gemma hid her disappointment at hearing that what she’d suspected was true, then she looked at Rachel in surprise. “You sound like you don’t like Jean.”
Rachel put a slab of ham in a skillet. “She’s great. She gave me a Prada bag last Christmas. I expect a pair of Manolos for my birthday. She’s always kind and considerate and she makes me laugh. I have nothing to say against her.”
“But . . . ?”
Rachel turned around to face Gemma. “Colin seems to think Jean’s going to move to itty-bitty Edilean, pump out three kids, and they’ll live happily ever after.”
Gemma thought of the house Colin had bought and what he’d said about his friends starting families. It looked like Rachel was right. “Isn’t it fashionable for women today to give up their careers and become stay-at-home moms?”
Rachel snorted. “You’ve met Jean. Do you think Edilean is exciting enough for her?”
Gemma hadn’t seen much of the cute little town, but it was true that she couldn’t see Jean in her heels and her fabulously expensive clothes walking about. “Maybe she could be mayor,” she said.
“And deal with lost dogs? I don’t think so.” Rachel pulled a buzzing cell phone out of her pocket and looked at the screen. “It’s Mr. F. He’s sitting at the table but there’s no food. To him, this is a great catastrophe.”
“He texted you from the dining room?”
Rachel was smiling. “That’s right. He bought me a BlackBerry and pays the bills just so he can tell me where he is and where I’m to take his food. You’ll learn that the Fraziers aren’t like the rest of the world.” The phone vibrated again, and she looked at it. “He’s reminding me that I’m supposed to send you in.”
Gemma got off the stool. “Now that Isla and Kirk are gone, I’d love to have breakfast with Mr. and Mrs. Frazier.” Pausing, she looked back at Rachel, her face serious. “Is there anything I should know about these people? I’m going to be here quite a while.”
“They’re nice. A bit spoiled by too much money, maybe, but they’re good people. Stay away from Lanny—unless you want to become a notch on his bedpost, that is—and let Shamus draw you. And when Pere comes home, don’t fall for him. His parents don’t know it, but his heart is already spoken for.”