“You just tell old Henry what you like. I’ll fix it.”
“I like black-cherry ice cream,” she told him, smiled and clasped her hands in front of her.
“First thing you know, I won’t recognize the place,” Telford said before heading upstairs.
For the nth time, she read Puss ’n Boots, and for as many times, Tara applauded constantly. When at last Tara was asleep, Alexis walked down the stairs and into the family room or den, where Telford waited for her.
Telford stood beside the gray-stone fireplace with a snifter of cognac in his right hand. How was he going to turn his life around to fit what he considered an appropriate environment for a little girl? No woman had lived among those four men since his mother died fifteen years earlier. Flowers, open windows in the spring and the breeze wafting through, a properly set dining table and a beautiful woman at its head. It reminded him of his mother, whom he had loved and, on many occasions, hadn’t loved at all. He downed the Hennessy VSOP cognac and walked to the window that overlooked the garden, where he saw Drake dismount his horse and tether him.
“I wanted to be here when you started chewing out Alexis for bringing Tara,” Drake said as he entered the den. “And don’t say you hadn’t planned to do it. I have a feeling she’s just what we need.”
“Who? Alexis or a four-year-old?”
Drake pulled off his riding boots, kicked them under a chair and poured himself a snifter of cognac. “Both of ’em.”
“Sure. Alexis Stevenson and ten more would suit you perfectly, but don’t make a move on her. She’s the housekeeper.”
Drake crossed his unshod right foot over his knee, and a grin burst out on his face. “Wake up, man, I saw what was going on.”
Telford stuffed his hands into his trousers pockets and kicked at the brass andiron that graced the fireplace. “What do you mean by that?”
“Figure it out. Suffice it to say, she’s not one bit interested in me, nor I in her.”
“Glad to hear it. When you start after something you go like a bat out of hell.”
Drake grinned. “By the time you know I’m going after it, I’ve done some thinking about it and made up my mind. Ready to move. And when I take off, I make time.”
“Yeah, tell me about it. Say what you please, though, she can’t stay.”
His gaze caught Drake’s foot swinging at a slow, even rhythm. “She stays, Telford, because you know you aren’t going to ask her to leave. If you do, I’ll oppose you.”
Telford expelled a long breath. “Yeah, but she can’t make the rules in this house.”
“Let’s wait and see. I wouldn’t mind having a little order around here.”
“I suppose you’re planning to walk around fully clothed, remember to close the bathroom when you’re taking a shower and watch your mouth when you talk. Et cetera, et cetera.”
“Oh, hell. Yeah, I guess I’ll have to.”
“I was wondering where you were,” Alexis sang as she glided into the room.
The simplest dress a woman could put on, and she looked like a goddess, soft, feminine and…and…for Pete’s sake, what was he thinking? She refused the cognac he offered.
“Wine at dinner and a glass of champagne, occasionally, are my limit. You wanted to talk with me, Telford?”
Champagne, eh? “Yeah. Look,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck, “have a seat. This is no place for a small child.”
She sat forward, alert and anxious, and he had the feeling she’d spring out of the chair in a second. “Are you saying you want me to leave?”
Hearing her voice shake brought out his protective streak, and try as he would, he couldn’t forget that by her own account, she was vulnerable. “Can you imagine what it’s like for three men and a male cook living in a house this size together? On summer weekends, we hardly ever put on clothes, and I don’t ever remember wearing bathing trunks in that pool out back.”
Alexis stood. “Maybe you should have advertised for a homemaker with greatly impaired vision. You’ll have to be just as circumspect around me as around Tara.”
The howls of laughter from Drake accentuated Telford’s embarrassment. He hadn’t thought of that. He folded his arms against his chest, leaned against the wall and asked her, “Will I have to refrain from saying damn?”
“Yes, you will.” He realized he’d raised her temperature level when she walked to within a foot of where he stood. “And there are a few other things we have to straighten out. My contract says two years, and I intend to stay for at least that long. If you’re three blood brothers, you’re a family. Families eat their meals together, so you shouldn’t straggle in whenever it suits you. Say dinner’s at seven, all of you sit down to the table at seven. Or six, or whatever time you decide.”
“Anything else?” Telford asked her, and Drake eyed them the way a sleuth watches a suspected criminal.
“No hats on in the house or at the table, no boots beneath chairs and no swearing. I don’t want my daughter conditioned to accept such behavior from men.”
She had hutzpah, all right, he had to hand it to her.
“Of course not,” he said, sarcasm lacing his words. “She might one day go to college and live in a coed dormitory, and she’d be prepared for just what she found there—a bunch of naked men in the showers. Alexis, I would treat Tara with no less respect than I would my own daughter.”
Drake got up, took off the Stetson he wore when riding, pulled his boots from beneath the chair and winked at Alexis. “You won’t get any flack from me; unlike Robinson Crusoe over there, who enjoys his own company—” he pointed to Telford “—I love women. The more around me, the merrier. And Tara can stay here as long as she likes. She’s just what this tomb needs.” He left them and walked up the stairs, whistling “Knock About Sweetheart” as he went.
“Oh, yes,” Alexis said. “I forgot to add that you shouldn’t raise your voices in disagreement or anger.”
His glare had to suffice, since he couldn’t grab her and shake her till…till she was soft and…and warm and perfumed with the tantalizing odor of woman, till she… He brought himself up short and regrouped. “Alexis, don’t push me too far. Don’t ever do that. Never. You got that?”
She didn’t give quarter, and in spite of his annoyance, he admired her. “I know this all sounds like a bad pill you have to swallow, and I’m sorry, but I figured you’d want us to settle everything now, and it’s best to get these things straight in advance.”
He’d had enough. “Do you think you’ve happened upon a houseful of barbaric, uncivilized men? If so, you’d better make a run for it.”
She appeared thoughtful. “Barbaric? Uncivilized? Hmmm. I’m not sure I’d go quite that far. A little rough around the edges, maybe.”
His glare broadened to a thunderous glower. “You trying to test my restraint?”
She lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Wouldn’t think of it. Anybody can see you’re a paragon of willpower and self-control. Cool. Real laid-back.”
“All right, all right. You and I both know what’s going on here. If these verbal whacks are helping to relieve your frustration, by all means don’t spare me.”
Apparently less assured now, she avoided looking him in the eye for the first time. “You’re assuming a lot, Mr. Harrington.”
“Don’t fool yourself.” He poured half a glass of club soda, dropped two cubes of ice in it, offered the glass to her and, when she declined, sipped it slowly. “Let’s get back to business. I was not expecting you to come with a child. You told me you were divorced, and I got the impression you were much older.”
“If you’d asked my age, I would have told you. You didn’t.”
“I know, I know. But I always heard that women don’t like to tell their age.”
“Sorry, I can’t help you there.” Suddenly her demeanor seemed to change. Lord forbid she should try some feminine tactics on him. He wasn’t holding still for that.
But she fooled him. “Telford, let’s see this from my point of view. I sublet my house, packed some necessities, stored the remainder of my belongings, got in my car and changed my life by coming here. Where do I go if I leave here, and what will I do with Tara while I find another job and a place to stay? That’s my dilemma, but if you don’t want my child here, I don’t want to stay, and I won’t.”
“I’m not asking you to leave. What do you think I am, an ogre of some kind?”
“She’s obedient, and she’s smart. You’ll see.”
And she was a beautiful, loving child who would soon have him and every other man around rolling over whenever she snapped her fingers. He looked at the hopeful expression in Alexis’s soft brown eyes. Hopeful, but not pleading. What had he thought he’d gain by giving her the third degree? Except perhaps to establish some vital distance between them. They’d hooked the minute they looked at each other on those stairs. She could deny it if she wanted to, but he’d felt it to the marrow of his bones, and he’d bet anything, even his varsity ring, that it was the same for her.
The present arrangement wouldn’t work; he didn’t want Tara running around in the corridors near their bedrooms. “Tomorrow, I’d like you to move over to that guest room off the garden. It’s private and safe, and it’s much more spacious. No one can scale that wall without spending a few weeks in a hospital. Furthermore, Tara will be less likely to grow up too fast. Henry will show you to that room.”
“Thanks. When you have time, please tell me how you like things done.”
He looked at her to see if she might be pulling his leg, and realized that she was serious. In spite of himself, he laughed aloud. “Why would I bother to do that? You’ll do what you like. Sleep well.”
For some reason, he didn’t want to see her walk out of the door, so he went over to the window and busied himself closing first the blinds and then the draperies. He heard her say good-night, but he pushed from his mind the soft caress that was her voice.
He went back to the bar, poured himself another glass of club soda and sipped it, mostly to have something to do. When he’d looked up those stairs and seen her looking down at him, he thought a barrel of bricks had fallen on his head. And as she glided toward him, her motion slow and fluid as if something other than her feet propelled her, a sweet, terrible hunger that he hadn’t experienced in his thirty-six years began to churn in him. She stopped just in time, bringing him to his senses seconds before he would have reached out for her.
He brushed his fingers over his curly hair, exasperated at the thought of having that woman in his home for the next two years. He’d had enough of women, beautiful and otherwise. First his unfaithful mother, and then… He pushed the thought from his mind.
“Well, does she stay?”
He spun around at the sound of Drake’s voice. “She stays. What else can I do? She has to work, and she has a child. I—”
“That’s a great little girl, too. Don’t sweat it, Telford. We’re in the doldrums; been in ’em for years. I liked sitting at a properly set table. Hell, half the time, Henry serves the food right from the pot so he can wash one less dish.”
“I know, but it’s… Well—”
Drake’s hand clasped his right shoulder. “Don’t let it get to you. You’ll either like it or it won’t amount to a thing. Trust me; I’ve been there.”
He looked at his brother, the person closest to him, and shook his head. For all Drake’s apparent frivolousness, his insight into human feelings and behavior could be startlingly clear, so he didn’t try to mislead him. “Right. It may take me a few days, but I’ll get it together.”
“I may be a little late for breakfast tomorrow morning, Tel,” Henry called from the door. “I don’t suppose that matters, though, since it’s Saturday. But I thought I’d run down to Bridge Market and get some of that good double-smoked bacon. We ain’t got nothing here but country sausage.”
“Isn’t that what we always eat for breakfast?”
“Yeah, but Tara told me she likes pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. We got the syrup, but we ain’t got—”
Telford held up his hands, palms out. “All right, all right. Get the bacon. Anything else she wants. I hope I get my breakfast before I have to leave for Baltimore.”
“Do my best.”
Do his best. “Henry knows breakfast is my favorite meal. I have to change my suppertime, eat in the breakfast room, walk around in the house fully clothed with dust flying around in my face, wait till you get home before I can eat and I’ll probably have to give up sausage and eat bacon with my grits?” He threw up his hands.
“Don’t look at me,” Drake said, his white teeth sparkling against his olive complexion. “And quit complaining. Just think of the fun you’re probably going to have.”
“Man, you’re wasting your thought process. I’m not going that way.”
“If you say so. A first-class woman is in the house.”
Drake raced back upstairs, and his thoughts turned inward. If only he were as sure as he’d sounded.
Chapter 2
Alexis crawled into bed long after midnight, having survived a day in which she’d turned her life around, hurtling from society matron to live-in housekeeper, from college teacher to a woman with limited means of earning a living. At nine o’clock yesterday morning, the judge had banged his gavel and finally closed her custody case for all time, thwarting Jack Stevenson’s last effort to take their child from her. Jack had badgered and threatened her until she relinquished her share of their joint property in exchange for Tara’s custody. A month later, supported by his enormous wealth and high-priced lawyers, he challenged her fitness as a mother, as if to break her spirit by depriving her of her only remaining treasure. All of her savings had gone to lawyers’ fees, but she had her child, and that was all that mattered.
She leaned over the sleeping little girl—conscious that they were sharing a bed for the first time—and closed her eyes in gratitude. Tara was hers, and the future was bright, or would be if… She bolted upright and tremors streaked down her limbs as she recalled Telford Harrington and her reaction to him. She still felt the shock of seeing the man for the first time, of looking into hazel-brown eyes that mesmerized her, of having the stuffing knocked out of her. When she’d finally gotten back in her room, her fingers shook so badly that she could hardly remove her shoes. She didn’t know how she’d do it, but she’d deal with it. She had to; her life and that of her child depended on it. She kissed Tara’s cheek and turned out the light.
She had a home for herself and Tara and she could save a little money. But what if… Perspiration matted her hair. If he discovered her education and social status in mainline Philadelphia, he’d fire her as an imposter. She prayed he wouldn’t investigate her. She hadn’t lied, but no sane man would have hired her as a housekeeper if he knew the life she’d lived.
Alexis didn’t know how long she counted sheep, but she awoke from peaceful oblivion to hear Tara say, “I wanna go eat, Mummy. Mr. Henry’s cooking something for me.”
“In a minute, and say please.”
“Please.”
She dressed Tara and then herself and went downstairs, where Telford and Drake sat at the table in the kitchen. Drake got up immediately and went to the breakfast room to get two chairs.
“I hope you slept well,” Telford said when they greeted each other, warily, like two cats who’d lost their night vision.
“Well as could be expected.”
He stopped chewing and looked directly at her. “What do you mean by that? If you weren’t comfortable, I’ll get you some new mattresses. Today.”
“I was very comfortable, and the room is delightful. But… Telford, I’ve just changed my life. It’s going to take some getting used to.”
She had his full attention then, and her nerves rioted as his piercing gaze focused on her, his beloved sausage and grits momentarily forgotten. “If you have a problem you think I can help you with, let me know. That’s what I’m here for.”
She hadn’t expected that show of compassion, and her eyebrows arched sharply. “I appreciate that, Telford, but if you and I get along well, that’s all the help I think I’ll need. Now where on earth did Tara go?”
He waved his fork in the direction of the kitchen stove. “She’s over there admiring Henry. I hope she can get him to cook something other than hamburgers, steaks and chops. I’ve begun to hate that stuff.” Something suggestive of pain streaked across his face.
“I’ll see what I can do about that. Not to worry.”
He stared at her for a long time before he asked, “You can cook?”
“Wouldn’t you expect a housekeeper to be able to cook? You bet I can.”
“Right on!” Drake said, walking back to the table holding two stacked chairs in one hand and Tara by the other. “Maybe we’ll get some variety in these meals.”
Telford’s face creased into a smile. “If Henry hears you say that, we’ll be eating cabbage stew until he decides he’s had adequate revenge.”
“Tell me about it. You going to Baltimore this morning?” Drake asked Telford. “It wouldn’t hurt you to take a Saturday off once a year.” He took his plate to the stove for more eggs and bacon.
“Can’t. That school’s going to be perfect if I have to lay every stone with my own hands. The Harrington name will stand for the last word in building again, for the very best. People will take notice, if I die trying.”
She didn’t like the harshness of his voice or the rage that she sensed just below his veneer of gentility.
“I’ll drag old man Sparkman and his gang down to their knees, if it’s the last thing I do,” he spat out. “That school building is going to be a symbol of quality, and I’ll bring it in on time and on budget.”
Alexis looked at Telford’s clenched fists and the muscles working in his jaw. Her gaze moved to his eyes and the fierce emotion that robbed them of the warmth that had cast a spell over her the night before. Oh, those eyes held fire, all right, but a different kind of fire, the fire of animosity and a hunger for revenge.
She didn’t know the reason for his hostility, but she knew that it made him hard and vengeful; no person could be happy feeling as he did.
The fingers of her right hand closed over his left wrist. “If you dislike this man so much, he will occupy your thoughts when your mind should be free for other concerns. Whenever you hate anyone, you’re the loser.” His glare didn’t shake her resolve. “What I said is true,” she continued. “Do what you have to do, but don’t think about the man; these feelings you have…they’re…they’re destructive.”
“Look here. You don’t know anything about this, nor what this man has cost my family. You’d do well not to talk out of turn.”
She couldn’t let it go at that. This man hurt, and he would go on hurting until he got the better of his enemy, but she knew that when he did, he’d have a hollow victory.
“I don’t mean to offend you, but you’ll never be at peace this way.”
He pushed his chair back from the table and put his hands on his knees in a move to leave. “I don’t care for namby-pamby. That’s not… Wait a minute, you’re not a pacifist or a…” His eyes widened. “A—”
She finished it for him. “A Quaker, a member of the Society of Friends. I am not namby-pamby, as you put it, and I stand up for my rights. But I do not argue or hold grudges, and I don’t let anger get in the way of my common sense. Yours is ruling you.”
He leaned back in the chair. “Who the… Who’d have thought it? Did you come from a family of Quakers?”
She shook her head. “I was raised a Methodist.”
“Why the change? Is your ex-husband a Quaker?”
That was good for a laugh. “I don’t know what he is. I joined the Friends because I needed to be with people whose lives were different from the volatile and sometimes violent relationships I witnessed in my parents, and whose values were unlike those of my manipulative and greedy husband.”
She supposed she’d shocked him until she saw on his face something akin to recognition. He seemed uncomfortable, as though she’d given him information that he’d rather not have.
“Sorry if I’ve embarrassed you.”
He held up his hand. “No. No. It’s all right. I…I was thinking what a difficult life you must have had. Yet you take me to task for being angry. Neither of us has had a happy time of it.” He stood. “I hope you’ll be happier here. Henry will show you that room by the garden. See you this evening.”
“Around seven?” she asked to emphasize their agreement to eat dinner at a fixed time.
“All right. Seven.”
“Mr. Telford, I wanna go with you.”
She’d almost forgotten that Tara sat quietly at the table listening to their conversation.
“Tell you what,” he said to Tara, who’d left the table and was holding his hand. “You and I will take a little walk another day, but not today. Okay?”
“Don’t forget, Mr. Telford. We’re going to walk.”
She hoped he wouldn’t disappoint her child. Jack never remembered his promises to his daughter, and she didn’t want her to grow up thinking that men were unreliable.
“Did he leave?” Drake asked, pulled out the chair Telford vacated and sat down.
She nodded. “He’ll be back by seven.”
An amused twinkle danced in Drake’s dark eyes. “Oh, yeah. You said we had to be home by seven and eat together. I was surprised he didn’t tell you who was boss.”
“You make me sound like a bore.”
“Trust me, I didn’t mean to. Think the two of you will get on all right? Telford’s been through plenty, and when he puts himself to it, he can be a real handful.”
“He’s sensitive, and Tara likes him.”
“Tara likes any guy wearing pants, which is why I’m not jealous of her affection for Henry. He doesn’t even want people to like him.” He buttered a biscuit and spread raspberry jam on it. “Three or four hours after she meets him, she’s trailing behind him, and he’s going halfway to Frederick to get bacon for her. He wouldn’t do that for me or my brothers.”
“Why not?”
The expression on his face suggested that there might be some doubt as to her sanity. “What we want doesn’t matter a hoot to Henry. He does as he pleases.” He reached over and patted Tara’s shoulder. “I gotta get out of here. See you later.”
She noticed that, although Tara told him good-bye, smiled and waved at him, she didn’t hold on to him or ask to go with him. She wondered if Tara had sensed her own reaction to Telford and been favorably impressed because of it. She cleared the table and took the dishes over to the kitchen sink.
“Ain’t no reason for you to do that. You hear?” Henry wiped his hands on his apron. “I’ll take care of the kitchen. You go get your things ready so I can take you to your new room. You’ll like it.” He looked down at Tara. “You will, too.”
She loved the enormous room with its sand-colored walls, cinnamon-colored carpeting and soft yellow accessories. A wall of windows let her look at the garden, a grove of trees and what appeared to be a river in the distance. She stood by the window and took in the beauty.
Henry took pride in showing her her new quarters. “Swimming pool’s at the other end of the garden. When it’s hot in midsummer, we just turn on the floodlights and swim at night.” He walked to the far end of the room and opened a door. “This is supposed to be a sitting room, but we can put a bed and some furniture in here for Tara. Bath and Jacuzzi right there.” He pointed to another door. “That opens to the garden. Don’t worry, it’s safe. The fence is twelve feet high and has barbed wire on top.”
She thanked him. “I’ll plan some menus, make a shopping list, and I can write out some recipes for you, if you want me to.”
He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know. If it don’t broil, and you can’t French-fry it, I ain’t got no use for it.”
She allowed herself the familiarity of a pat on his shoulder. “You’ll be surprised how easy this will be.”
Henry hadn’t been young for a long, long time, she realized when his face sagged and a shadow flashed in his eyes. “I guess I could use a few tips. Ain’t easy figuring out new ways to cook the same old thing.”
