Shannon's Daughter (10 page)

“No,
thank you.
 
I’m fine.”
 
He took a seat, determined to regulate his
breathing before he said much more.

She
poured a bottle of ginger ale over ice.
 
“Drink, then?
 
If you don’t want
ginger ale, there’s coke or beer.”

“The
ginger ale would be fine, thanks.”
 
He
felt awkward, watching her moving about the room.
 
How had she grown into such a vision of
feminine perfection?
 
That skinny,
shapeless girl, all elbows and knees, had developed curves in precisely the
proper places, stretched them to just the right height and filled them to
elegantly slender proportion.
 
His hands
involuntarily spread over the table cloth, as though performing an exploration
spurred by his wretched imagination.
 

“There
you go.
 
Sure you’re not hungry?”
 
She sat across from him, sipping her
drink.
 

“No.
 
Thank you.”
 
Now that he could look into her face, with those legs safely hidden
beneath the table, he felt a little calmer.
 
“So, how have you been?”
 

“Fine.
 
Busy.
 
You know I graduated, from
high school, that is.
 
I start Columbia
in September.
 
And I did the whole debutante
thing.
 
That’s almost over, thank God.”

“I got
a full report from Maeve.
 
Frankly, I
think she was a bit jealous.
 
Agnes, of
course, had nothing to say other than to scold Maeve for trying to steal your
spotlight.”

Peg
chuckled softly.
 
“They’re funny.
 
I’m afraid I was so busy I didn’t have much
time to spend with them.
 
Do you see a
lot of them in London?”

“Quite
a lot, as a matter of fact.
 
I’ve been designated official escort for the
two of them.
 
If Maeve would find herself
a suitable chap, I’d be happy to give up the job.
 
So far, she’s managed to cause Aunt Adelaide
to go prematurely gray and Agnes to swear off men forever.”
 
Her chuckle turned to delighted
laughter.
 
“So tell me what else you’ve
been up to.”

“Let’s
see.
 
Oh, I turned eighteen last
week.
 
You just missed my birthday.”
 
She made a face, much like that funny
nose-scrunching thing the former Peg had favored.

“Did
you have a party?”

“Oh,
yes.”
 
She rolled her eyes to the
ceiling.
 
“I told Dad, what with all the
parties we’d endured already, the deb thing, you know, I just wanted him to
take me somewhere nice for dinner.
 
Well,
he did, but then when we came home, there were at least a hundred people here,
all shouting ‘surprise’ and blowing noise makers.
 
It was awful, but I should have known Dad
would do something like that.”

Kendall
started to relax, relieved to see that inside the vision, the old Peg seemed to
be alive and well.
 
“So you’re all grown
up now?”

“Oh,
yes.
 
Legal and
everything.
 
We had champagne at
dinner, and again here at the party.
 
I’m
afraid I don’t have much of a head for that sort of thing.
 
Now tell me about yourself.
 
I hear your career is taking off.”

“I
don’t know about taking off.
 
I’ve
auditioned for a real job, but I doubt I’ll get it.”

“The
London Philharmonic, very impressive.
 
Uncle
Patrick keeps us informed.
 
He’s really
proud of you, you know.
 
He’s asked Dad
to introduce you to Bernie Silverman while you’re here.
 
Maybe you could audition for him.
 
Wouldn’t you like to come to New York?”

“Bernard
Silverman?
 
Good lord, your father’s
friends with Silverman?”
 
His pulse stepped
up a beat, in part at the mention of such a famous name, and also, he realized,
because watching her eyes as she talked, he’d been drawn into their shimmering
blue depths.
 
There was something
dangerously hypnotic about her eyes, something he’d have to watch out for.

“Oh,
yes.
 
Bernie’s a cool guy, very driven,
of course.
 
Did you know he’s the
youngest conductor of a major orchestra in the entire world?
 
And he can’t even keep his suits pressed half
the time.
 
He showed up to dinner last
week looking like he’d slept in his clothes.”
 
She laughed again, a softly polite but very honest laugh, yet another
means of captivating a man’s attention and causing him to lose his focus, Kendall
noted.

Getting
up to pour her ice in the sink, her expression turned serious.
 
“I have a huge favor to ask, but if you don’t
want to, I’ll understand.”

He
swallowed the instant response that no favor would be too great.
 
Maybe he hadn’t had enough sleep after
all.
 
His brain seemed to have turned to
bizarre thoughts of poetry and flowers.
 
“What
sort of favor?”

“There’s
a little party tonight at the O’Halloran’s.
 
Connie’s going away to college and this is sort of an early farewell
before we all split up.
 
Nothing too formal.
 
If you brought a dinner jacket that would be great, or just a suit
will do.
 
I sort of told her I’d
bring you, if you were willing.
 
They’re
all dying to meet you.”

“Really.
 
Dying?”
 
He grinned at her wide-eyed
explanation, again glimpsing the old Peg in her eagerness.

“Of
course.
 
I told them all about you.”
 
She looked away, blushing slightly.
 
“Thank goodness you haven’t changed
much.
 
After all I said about how
good-looking you were, I was worried you might have gotten fat, or started
losing your hair.”

He
tossed back his head, laughing out loud.
 
Thank goodness, indeed.
 
Here was
the Peg he’d known after all.
 
He’d have
to get past her incredible outward transformation, but there was hope that he
wouldn’t be reduced to panting and drooling after her for the next two weeks.
 
“I’d be happy to go if you’re sure I won’t
embarrass you, old geezer that I am.”

Her
smile was practically blinding, full lips spread over perfect teeth, blue eyes
twinkling.
 
“That’s super!
 
We’ll leave around seven-thirty.
 
There’ll be lots of finger food and stuff, and
then there’ll be a buffet at midnight.
 
You might want to eat before we go, though, in case you want to drink.
 
There’ll be plenty of that too, I’m
sure.
 
Connie’s brother Bill runs a real
bar at all their parties.
 
He’s kind of a
show-off, playing bartender with his cocktail shakers.
 
There’ll be dancing, too.”
 
She bounced on her toes like a delighted
child.
 
“Oh, Kendall, I’m so glad you’re
here!”

“I’m
glad you’re glad.
 
I wasn’t sure what to
expect.
 
I thought you might have fallen
in love with some college man and
. .
.well, not have
time for your old cousin anymore.”

“Don’t
be silly.
 
I’m not going to fall in love
with anybody.
 
Ever.
 
And I’d always have time for you
anyway.”
 
The smile turned affectionate
for an instant.
 
“Now I’m going to
shower.
 
I’m rank!
 
See you later!”

She was
gone, leaving a draft of energy and a slightly earthy aroma in her wake.
 
He sat at the table for a while, staring out
at the manicured garden and trying to superimpose one image of Peg over the
other.
 
She was only eighteen, he
cautioned, although she’d always been mature beyond her years.
 
Just because she looked like the Hollywood-bred,
All American fantasy of burgeoning sexuality did not change the facts of their
relationship.
 
If any other male showed
signs of sharing his primal response to her, he’d be forced to take him by the
collar and toss him to the nearest gutter.
 
A place he might have to throw himself if he couldn’t keep his mind from
wandering up those legs of hers.

Chapter Nine

When he
advised his mother of his plans for the evening, she smiled wanly, told him to
have a nice time and closed the conversation by pointing out that Peg was quite
the young lady now.
 
She then closed her
bedroom door with the promise of sleeping until noon the next day.
 
Patrick and Michael, enthroned in the latter’s
study with brandy and cigars, wished him a pleasant evening and then ignored
him as he strolled aimlessly around the foyer wondering if seven-thirty
actually meant seven-thirty in New York.
 

He was totally
unprepared for the impact of yet another version of Peg.
 
That slightly sunburned outdoorsy type had
transformed into a different variety of breathtaking vision, this one
gracefully descending to the swish of silk and the tapping of high heels.
 
Her cocktail dress, a soft
golden brown cut to accentuate every fluid curve, set off her eyes and brought
out glints of red in her smoothly coifed hair.
 
Here again was that Hollywood fantasy, this
one sleek and poised, as she paused on the bottom step to smile down at him.

“You
look nice,” she said.
 
Reaching out, she
gently brushed the lapel of his dinner jacket, her touch triggering an electric
current through his chest.
 

He
swallowed carefully.
 
“So do you.
 
My word, Peg, who knew you’d grow up to be
such a beauty?”

She
wrinkled her nose.
 
“I’m not a beauty,
Kendall.
 
It’s all smoke and mirrors.”

“What?”
 
She held up a strip of gauzy fabric, which he
realized was intended to cover her shoulders, bare at the moment except for two
thin rhinestone straps.
 
He took the
scarf from her hands, waiting as she turned her back to him.
 

“It’s
all an illusion.
 
You know, the clothes,
the makeup, the hair, and suddenly the ugly duckling can pass for a swan.”
 
She faced the large mirror near the door and
in their reflection, he was sure she would see the blatant admiration in his
eyes.
 
Avoiding her gaze, he took an
extra minute to adjust the wrap on her shoulders, drinking in the fresh scent
of lemon as she bent her head to expose the nape of her neck.
 

“I see
nothing but a swan.
 
And
an exceptionally elegant one, at that.
 
I like your hair this way, very chic.”
 
That should be safe enough, and the compliment was sincere.
 
Her hair, drawn smoothly from her face, was
bound at the back of her head in a snood dotted with the same rhinestones.
 

“I should
cut it, I know.
 
But I can’t seem to part
with it.”

“Don’t
you
dare.
 
Your
hair
is.
. .well it’s part of your personality.”

She
shot him a curious glance as she pulled on a pair of short white gloves.
 
“That’s a compliment, I think.”

“Of
course.
 
Now how are we getting to this party?
 
Is there a glass coach waiting outside?”

“No,
silly.
 
There’s a car, and a chauffeur, of
course.
 
Simon will drive us, but we’ll
have to take a cab home.
 
I can’t let him
wait around for me all night.
 
Besides,
if the party gets too rowdy, we may cut out for someplace quieter, where we can
at least talk.”

“Why
does the name O’Halloran seem familiar?” he asked once they were on their way.

“Connie’s
been my best friend since we were six.”
 
She seemed to search for an answer until her eyes widened and a grin
spread over her face.
 
“Oh, I know.
 
You must remember Bill O’Halloran, Connie’s
older brother?”

“Why is
that?”

“Bill
sleeps in the buff, just the way you do.”

He
choked on his own breath.
 
“Good lord,
Peg!
 
I never know what’s going to come
out of your mouth next.”
 
As he tried to
clear his windpipe, Peg playfully slapped him across the shoulders.
 
“I hope you don’t plan to bring that up when
you introduce me to Mr. O’Halloran tonight.”

She sat
back, patting her hair demurely.
 
“Of course not.
 
Do
you
still.
. . ?”

“No!
 
Brat!”

“Oh, I
was hoping you’d still call me that!
 
Oh,
it’s going to be so wonderful having you here!
 
I just know it!”
 
She slipped her
arm beneath his, nestling closer, and he caught another whiff of warm citrus.
 
Wonderful no doubt, and
likely a monumental test of his self-control.
 

The
party was well underway by the time they arrived.
 
The O’Halloran’s apartment was spacious by
New York standards, though modest compared to the brownstone.
 
The living and dining rooms were separated by
two sets of French doors, standing open to allow the guests to move freely from
one to the other, and a balcony provided an unobstructed view of the city.
 
A gleaming mahogany bar had been set up at
one end of the living room, while in the dining room the carpet had been
removed for dancing to music provided by a jazz combo stationed in one
corner.
 
The lighting was appropriately
subdued and everywhere, young, well-dressed bodies seemed to be in motion of
one kind or another.
 

They
were greeted by Connie and her older sister, Prudence, who then made the
general announcement of their arrival.
 
“Hey, everyone, Peg’s here with her
Englishman!”

“I told
you they were dying to meet you,” Peg shouted in his ear as the crowd called
out a variety of welcomes.
 
“Come on, I
want to dance.
 
I’m much better than I
used to be, I promise.”
 
Tugging his
hand, she headed toward the dining room.
 

When he
turned to her on the dance floor she swung into his arms, pressing much closer
than he would have considered proper, given their relationship.
 
Again, he caught a whiff of her perfume, and the
singularly earthy scent of Peg herself.
 
Falling easily into step, she curled her hand along the back of his neck
and he felt her breath near his ear.
 
“I
told you I’m better now.
 
All those hours
of cotillion finally paid off.
 
You’re
really smooth.
 
Do you dance a lot in
London?”

He had
the unfortunate vision of a recent party, a very clingy partner and the
evening’s concluding dance of a different sort.
 
“Some.”
 

When
the number ended, Peg again took his hand, towing him toward the bar.
 
After introducing him to the infamous Bill,
she ordered a club soda.
 
“Have whatever
you like, Kendall.
 
I don’t mind if you
drink, as long as you don’t overdo.”

“No.
 
Club soda for me as well,
please.
 
I think a clear head may
be essential to my survival in a crowd of this age.”
 
He grinned at the bartender, a square,
red-faced young man whose dark hair was unfortunately already thinning.
 
“Nice to meet you, Bill.
 
Peg’s told me quite a lot about you.”

“That
was naughty.”
 
She shot a teasing glance
over her shoulder as she started back toward the dining room.
 
“Let’s dance some more.
 
I see someone I’d just as soon avoid.”
 
Before they passed through the doors, a young
man caught up to them and took hold of Peg’s elbow.
 

“I
thought you weren’t coming tonight.”
 
No
hello, no how are you, just the slurred and surly statement as he forced her to
turn in his direction or spill her drink.
 
With one glance, Kendall surmised that the boy was drunk, possibly
naturally bad-tempered, and someone he would love to toss into that earlier
imagined gutter.

“Tommy
Canaday, I’d like to introduce my cousin, Kendall Gregg.
 
This is Kendall’s first night in New York, so
I thought he might like to meet some of my friends.”
 
Peg’s composure was admirable, given the
situation.
 
Tommy on the other hand
seemed flustered by the introduction.
 
Probably
a nice enough looking chap when sober, now his mouth twisted in a moist smirk
and his eyes, slightly bloodshot, appeared unable to focus.

“Is
that right?
 
Well, welcome to New York,
Mr. Kendall Gregg.
 
Come on, Peg, dance
with me.
 
There’s something I want to
talk to you about.”
 
If he hadn’t tossed
out each word with drunken deliberateness, Kendall might have agreed to let go
of Peg’s hand, but sensing some underlying threat, the hairs on the back of his
neck stood at attention and he eyed her closely.
 
He would take his cue from her, hoping to
minimize her embarrassment, but this puppy was begging to be put in his place.

“Not
right now, Tommy.
 
Why don’t you see if Bill
has some coffee behind the bar?
 
Maybe
I’ll talk to you later, if you can sober up a little bit.
 
Come on, Kendall.
 
I just love this song.
 
Let’s dance.”
 
She set her glass on a low table near the door, and he followed suit
with a nod to the seething Mr. Canaday.

“What
precisely is his problem, other than too much beer?”

“He
reeks of it, doesn’t he?
 
Tommy can’t
control himself around an open bar.
 
And
he’s mad because he asked to bring me to this party and I said I might not come
because we had guests in town.
 
Of
course, Connie would never have forgiven me if I hadn’t come, but I refuse to
be linked with Tommy Canaday, even at a party like this one.”
 
The downward curve of her mouth suggested just
how distasteful she found the idea.

“Why,
other than his obvious lack of manners and self-control?”

“He’s
graduating from Yale next year with a degree in finance.
 
He thinks he’ll be guaranteed a job if he’s
dating me.”
 

“Ah.
 
Well, I’m sorry he upset you.
 
And I promise I won’t be polite if he tries
anything further.
 
I
am
your aged male relative, after all.
 
If I can’t protect you, what good am I?”
 
He was encouraged when she smiled up at
him.
 
“That’s better.
 
Now what say we sit this next one out?
 
I’m finding it a bit stuffy in here.”

Retrieving
their drinks, they elbowed through the crowd to the deserted terrace.
 
“The view is spectacular.
 
Is that the Empire State Building over
there?”
 
Peg was drinking deeply and he
noticed the sheen of perspiration on her forehead.
 
Taking the handkerchief from his breast
pocket, he dabbed gently along her hairline.
 
“There.
 
Can’t
have you melting.
 
Too much dancing or too much Tommy?”

“Oh, a
little of both, I guess.
 
I’m so sorry
that happened tonight.
 
I wouldn’t want
you to think I can’t take care of myself.”
 
She sighed, leaning her elbows on the railing.
 
“It’s just a fact of my life, guys like
Tommy.”

“What
do you mean?”

“Oh,
just that they see me as a way to get to my father.”
 
She paused, blinking slowly.
 
“Ooh, I guess it’s the height.
 
I feel a little woozy.”
 
Taking a deep breath, she held up her glass.
 
“I think
this needs
refreshing.
 
The ice has melted.”

“Why
don’t you sit down while I go to the bar?
 
Are you sure you’re all right?”
 
As she turned toward a nearby chair, she swayed against him, reaching out
to grasp his sleeve.
 

“I’m
just a little light headed.
 
I’ll be
fine.”
 
Sinking into the chair, she
offered an unconvincing smile.