Rite of Passage (4 page)

My plan for the day was to take my roadster over the spectacular countryside to Naples, a quaint community known for its freshwater salmon and magnificent vistas of the lakes and mountains that ringed it. That evening I planned to visit my brother.

By the time I entered the dining room it was almost ten.

“Good morning,” I offered, smiling. “May I?” I asked, gesturing to one of the empty seats.

“Of course.” Gretchen motioned to the one next to her.

“They say it may be a little cooler today,” I said as I sat and asked the server for coffee.

“A little,” Jon agreed absently, studying the
Wall Street Journal
.

“What are your plans for the day, Robbie?” Gretchen asked.

“Well, I’m no golfer and I get my fill of the water. Thought I’d drive over to Naples, take in the scenery, and buy my mother a present. I understand they have some great woolen shops. And I hear their freshwater salmon is the best in New England.”

“Well, I think there are a few places that might argue with that
,
” Jon said as he put down the paper. “But it is damn good.”

Gretchen looked at me, brows raised. “Have you thought about what I asked you? About spending time with Courtney?” she asked. “I feel so badly. Except for her daily visit to the stables she’s stayed to herself. I’ve tried to get close and get her to go to the local dances and meet other young people, but I’ve had no luck breaking through the wall she’s built around herself.”

This could be an invitation to disaster. But how could I refuse? “If you think she’d open up with me, I’ll try.” Why not volunteer?
Kind, friendly, platonic
. I reaffirmed my pledge from last night.

Jonathan scowled. Gretchen looked annoyed and batted his arm.

“Give her a chance, Jon. The poor girl has been through so much. Her mother’s death, being sent here to live with us.”

“Yes, and why do you suppose your charming brother-in-law sent her here? Because she’s an angel, the perfect child he couldn’t stand to be away from?” He shook his head. “I did some investigating.” He looked at me, then back at her. “If you’re going to be her babysitter, there are some things you should know.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said bitterly. “Jon has some friends in the press. They dredged up this drivel about a mystery behind Ellen’s death and other odd things that happened around Briarwood, her estate in Gloucestershire.”

“
A mystery!”
he threw back at her. “You be the judge,” he said, directing his comments to me.

“Ellen died in a fall from her horse. They said she broke her neck. Courtney claimed the animal was spooked by lightning, but her mother was the best horsewoman in western England, and no one saw so much as a rain cloud that afternoon. When the constable went to the site of the accident
,
there were strange markings near her body. Markings that the locals claimed were associated with witchcraft. On top of that, there were other mysterious deaths in the previous five years, when Courtney and only Courtney was—” He stopped in midsentence.

We turned to see her enter the dining room dressed in riding clothes. She walked with fluid strides, like a thoroughbred.

I found myself frowning at Jonathan. “Gretchen, do you believe any of this…”

“…nonsense?” She finished my thought, giving her husband a tap on the wrist. “No, not at all. Jonathan has visions of Olivier and Fontaine at Mandalay.” She scoffed. “Courtney is a sweet, beautiful child. Nothing more. She’s lonely, hurt, and in need of a friend.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Jon narrowed his eyes as he looked in her direction.

“She’s looking this way.” Gretchen pushed me. “Please. Go talk to her, Robbie.”

“I’ll remember your warning. If she tries to turn me into a frog, you’ll be the first to know.” I chuckled, as I took my coffee cup. Courtney and witchcraft? I remembered her question about magic and my strange dreams from last night. I had to admit I found the idea intriguing. The occult had always fascinated me. I gave her a wave. She looked up and showed a shy smile when she saw me. I headed toward her table.

“Good morning. I see you’ve had your
exercise.” I put my cup on the table. She looked up, her enormous eyes bright. “Anyone sitting here?” I asked.

“Hello,” she said quietly, reaching over and pushing out the chair. “No one but you. I usually sit by myself. I get rather fragrant after a ride, especially on a warm day.” She turned up her nose and showed an apologetic smile as she moved her helmet, gloves, and crop to an empty seat.

Her thick, dark hair looked damp, tied in a loose braid. The riding clothes she wore looked utilitarian—something for a workout, not show. I watched her, taking in each feature. She wore little makeup. Her face was dotted with beads of perspiration, but Courtney was still a vision.

“Oh, Robert, I’m so sorry,” she burst out.

“Sorry. For what?”

“You’re being too kind.” She blushed, raising her eyes. “For behaving like an hysterical school girl last night. It’s just that…”

“Shhh,” I whispered. “No need to apologize.” I touched her hand. Her eyes shone.

“I think it may be a little cooler today,” I said, withdrawing my hand as I changed the subject.

“You couldn’t prove it by me. It was hot riding this morning.” She lowered her eyes, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“So, what are you doing for the rest of the day?” I asked.

She shook her head, pushing her lips together. “Actually, I’d love to get away, visit some of the countryside,” she said quietly. “It’s beautiful here and some of the riding trails are exquisite. But I’ve been here for weeks and haven’t left. Not that I’m complaining. Auntie Gretchen’s been a jewel.”

Spend time with her, be her friend, break down the walls
. Gretchen’s words echoed. I played with the idea of asking her. It sounded so innocent. Was I opening myself to an emotional train wreck? What would I say if Rachel asked how I spent my day?

“What about you?” she asked, looking up as she drank her tea and spread jam on her toast.

“Well, I was thinking of taking a ride around the lake up to Naples and…”

“May I come?
Please?
” Courtney dropped her toast, putting her hands together in mock prayer. “It would be so nice to go for a drive, and I’d love to spend some time with…” She stopped. “I mean, it would be such fun to see the scenery. If you think it proper. I mean with your situation and all.” She lowered her gaze and her face flushed.

“I’d love to have company,” I confessed, watching as she raised her eyes to meet mine
.
“We’ll have a wonderful day. And there’s nothing improper about it.” I nodded, tapping the table.

Her smile shone in the sunlight.

I cleared my throat. “Well, how about meeting in front of the garage in an hour?” I looked at my watch. “About half past eleven?”

She gulped a quick swallow of tea and grabbed her gear. “See you in thirty minutes,” she said, beaming as she jumped up and headed for the door, her high boots clattering on the hardwood. As Courtney reached the door, she turned and waved.

“Thirty minutes,” I agreed, nodding.
For God’s sake, stay in control.
I repeated the mantra. But as I watched her disappear, a sense of anticipation and excitement filled me. My stomach had that wonderful hollow feeling again. I looked at my watch, wishing the minutes away.

Chapter Five

I left the dining room, giving Gretchen a thumbs-up. Jonathan looked on, frowning. I wondered what was behind his mistrust of Courtney. She was young, pretty, and aloof. Did he have an interest in her? Could it be that simple? No. That was ridiculous. I dismissed the thought. I’d known Jon since I was a child and
lecher
wasn’t a name that rang true. And despite Gretchen’s attempt to poke fun at him, I found her comments odd. Jon was the most level-headed person I knew. My father told us Jon was a rock, the compass that headed their business in the right direction. No. It was difficult to imagine him being stirred by a pretty face or things that went bump in the night—unless they affected his bottom line.

I dashed across the courtyard and into my room. I brushed my teeth, ran a brush through my hair and added a generous splash of Creed, the expensive aftershave Michael had brought from England.

I went to the garage to get the Jaguar so we could leave as soon as Courtney was ready. Throwing the canvas cover off, a stab of guilt hit me. No matter how I tried to rationalize the trip, Courtney was driving this adventure. I could hear my father—my moral compass. The most honest man I had ever known.
If you can’t tell a woman what you’re doing, you shouldn’t be doing it.
He was right. I’d always been honest with Rachel. But it was too late to back out now.
Control, Robbie. Just be friends
.

****

Courtney studied her foggy reflection in the bathroom mirror as she dried her hair. She frowned, trying to decide what to wear. She wanted to look attractive.
Was she dressing for the role she was playing or for Robert?
The question angered her, because she knew the answer.

Courtney searched for her feline companions. “Well, help me,” she whispered, pushing her lips into a pout and twirling a strand of damp hair on her finger. “This dating thing is new to me.”
Dating
.
Is that what this is?
She knew that was how she wanted to think of it. At home, she’d attended hunt balls and parties. It was expected. But her mother and Simon had insulated her from the social opportunities she might have found. When suitors came to call, the young men were politely turned away, because Courtney had a purpose. A significance beyond anything the world could suspect. She had no time for courting. She had to learn, hone her powers, and study the craft. Becoming the embodiment of a goddess required every minute of every day.

Courtney brushed the mist from the mirror as her stomach tightened in knots. Strange emotions swept over her, stirring her in ways she could never imagine. Was it guilt because of Robert’s lady friend? No, though she did feel the strange new sensation of jealousy, her purpose precluded proper behavior. This was something else. Courtney shook her head.
Stop it!
she scolded herself.
Stay in control.
She was fulfilling her destiny. Seeing that the prophecy was fulfilled. But if this was simply a role, why the euphoria? Why the enchantment since meeting him? And why did she suddenly find herself breaking into a grin every time she imagined Robbie’s strong, perfect face, or the way he looked in his swim trunks?

Courtney bit her lip and frowned as she turned and headed for the door. She sneaked one last look at her reflection, pleased with what she saw. People told her she was pretty, striking, even beautiful. Courtney saw the way men looked at her. She never cared what they thought. Until now. She closed her eyes and pictured Robbie, wishing, hoping he’d think she was beautiful. For the first time in her life, it mattered to Courtney what someone else thought. And it thrilled and terrified her.

****

I pulled the car up to the large gate that bordered the courtyard and checked my watch: 10:45. Courtney could never be here this soon. She had to shower, change, make arrangements for her pets and…

“Hello.” I felt a tap on the shoulder and turned. She stood there. Had my watch stopped? I must have looked curious. A grin crossed her face.

“How did you manage to…?” I shrugged.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Her eyes had a mischievous sparkle. “With magic! I’m a witch,” she whispered, looking around playfully as she laughed. I found myself joining her as I glanced toward the dining room, thinking of Jonathan.

“I’d heard that about you,” I said as I opened her door.

“Oh my God, a Jaguar convertible!” She ran her hand over the leather. “And a 1500.”

My face flushed. “You know your cars.”

“I love sports cars, and this is my favorite. And in British Racing Green. I can’t wait to get started.” She swooned.

“About the witch thing. Could you do me one favor?” I asked.

“Try me.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t turn me into a frog.”

She studied me, the playful look returning. “Don’t worry, Robbie, we only do that to princes.” She patted my shoulder. “You’re safe unless you get promoted.”

Had she called me “Robbie”? It had a warm, intimate feeling. I felt an incredible connection with this girl I’d only known for less than a day.

I pulled out my cigarettes. She sat, watching, her head tilted to one side. “Would you mind?” she asked quietly. “I know I shouldn’t, but I sneak one now and then.”

I lit the cigarette and gave it to her. She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. She handed it back to me. “We could share.”

“Sounds good.” I loved the simple, intimate gesture.

I sneaked a look at her as I slid into the driver’s seat. She caught me.

“Do I pass inspection, Mr. McGregor?” she asked, suppressing a smile as I pretended to study her.

She reached over and pushed me.

“You’ll do,” I assured her.

She wore tailored shorts and a short-sleeved linen blouse. Navy-blue knee socks and walking shoes—like mine—completed her outfit. A multicolored silk scarf adorned her neck. As she returned the cigarette, I noticed the silver pendant and chain she wore last night. Her hair looked lighter. It had a chestnut tone. Like everything about Courtney, it seemed perfect. A large white silk ribbon decorated the end of her dark ponytail.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Robbie.” Courtney’s light, playful expression disappeared. She hid a sigh. “Your lady’s one lucky woman,” she whispered, turning as I eased the Jag onto the narrow two-lane road that would take us north around Sebago.

We rode for thirty minutes. I gave Courtney the map, appointing her lookout and navigator. She took to the task, pointing out everything—a special mountain or lake view, a field of wildflowers, the occasional deer, even small herds of horses or cattle that nodded their approval as we sped by. About halfway to Naples she spotted a small roadside stand that offered homemade ice cream and a small petting zoo.