Shannon's Daughter (30 page)

The
flat, a single long room with a tiny kitchen in one corner, was furnished with
his personal taste and interests in mind.
 
Over the years, he’d acquired several good pieces, a long leather couch
and two club chairs, a small oval dining table and a fine drop-front secretary
which housed his favorite books behind glass doors above.
 
The sizable expanse of floor, which provided
ample room for his students and their music stands when necessary, was covered
with a gently faded Oriental carpet.
 
He
appreciated the light from the tall windows and the openness of his space,
enjoyed the comfort and solitude it provided.
 
Yet now, as he peered in cautiously, he had the sensation of seeing it
for the first time.
 

It only
took a moment for his eyes to light on her.
 
Curled on the couch, her head resting in the bend of one arm and her
legs drawn up beneath the folds of her skirt, she was sound asleep.
 
He took some time just to stand over her,
drinking in her face and form.
 
She was
the same and yet changed.
 
Three years
had brought her into womanhood.
 
Her
dress and makeup, her manicured hands and even the high-heeled shoes and
matching handbag on the floor by the couch suggested a woman of fashion.
 
He noticed with relief that her hair, pinned
in a now disheveled twist at the back of her head, had not been cut.
 
At least that much remained of the girl he
still thought of as “his Peg.”
 

Fascinated,
he watched as her lashes fluttered, holding his breath as she gazed around the
room.
 
When at last she brought him into
focus, she smiled drowsily, not seeming at all surprised to find him standing
over her.
 
“You don’t have a bed.”
 
The voice was the same, husky and warm, still
possessing the power to stir his blood.

“Yes I
do.
 
It’s in the wall.”
 
He waited, afraid to move and risk shattering
the moment.
 
“What are you doing here?”

“I
wanted to see you before tonight.
 
Alone.
 
I hope you
don’t mind that I sort of lied to your landlady.”
 
Rolling onto her back, she stretched
luxuriantly and he very nearly leapt on her, the need to feel her in his arms
threatening to turn him into a madman.

“Did
you lie?
 
She seemed quite convinced you
needed a place to rest your weary head.
 
My poor little cousin.”
 
There was an unexpected edge to his voice, no doubt due to the effort of
holding himself in check.
 

Peg sat
up, reaching back to draw the dangling pins from her hair.
 
“I could have stayed at the hotel, but I
wasn’t sure when you’d be at home, so I decided to come here and wait for you.
 
I didn’t think you’d mind.”
 
Shaking her hair free, she looked up with a
gleam in her eyes, but he thought he saw uncertainty there as well.

“No.
 
Of course not.”
 
Why couldn’t he move, reach for her, defy
reason and obey his pounding heart?

Slowly,
she swung her feet to the floor, reaching for her purse.
 
“I need to freshen up.
 
You do have a bathroom, don’t you?”

He
blinked, caught staring at the perfection of her bare feet, the lacquered pink nails
peeking through the toes of her stockings.
 
“Of course.
 
Right through here.”
 
Striding to the door, he switched on the
light and took a quick glance to make sure everything was in order.
 
“There’s a clean towel on the hook there.”

She
brushed past him through the door, leaving a whiff of lemon in her wake.
 
“Thank you.”

Stunned
by the unpleasant stiffness of their reunion thus far, he stood for a moment
staring at the closed door.
 
When she
came back, he would have to do something to amend the situation.
 
Sweep her into his arms, kiss her breathless,
carry her to the couch and make love to her without so much as a “How’ve you
been?”
 
No, better to
take things slowly.
 
Brew a pot of
tea, put out something to eat, seat her at the table and ask how her flight had
been and what her plans were while she was in London.
 
It was possible they just needed a little
time to get past the awkwardness.
 
He had
certainly changed in the past three years.
 
It was only reasonable that Peg had too.
 
They couldn’t expect to pick up where they left off, which, if he were honest,
hadn’t been on the best of terms.
 
He
wasn’t convinced their correspondence had done much to clarify their
relationship since.
 

Shedding
his jacket, he crossed to the kitchen, turning up his cuffs as he went.
 
Tea, a little light
conversation.
 
That was the safest
way to begin.
 
Filling the kettle, he set
it heating, measured the leaves into the pot and took cups and saucers from the
shelf, seeking comfort in the simple tasks.
 

Peg
emerged, hair smoothly pinned up, nose freshly powdered, and paused in the
middle of the carpet.
 
“I suppose I
should go.
 
We both have to get ready for
tonight.”
 
The faintest tremor slipped
past the last word as she dropped her eyes.
 
“Aren’t you glad to see me, Kendall?”

In the
next instant she was in his arms, her mouth crushed beneath his.
 
He took his time, reacquainting himself with
the feel of her body against his, soaking in her taste and scent, responding to
her touch as she seemed to search out every nerve and set it singing.
 

“You are
glad!
 
I was so afraid you’d found
someone else and you wouldn’t want me anymore.”
 
Her face buried against his neck, she was shivering, her hands trembling
on his chest.
 

His
knees threatening to give way, he braced himself against the counter.
 
“Why would you ever think that?” he whispered
against her hair.

“Your
letters didn’t say much.
 
I couldn’t tell
if you were sad to be apart or just being brave.
 
Or if you didn’t care anymore.”
 
She trailed her lips across his cheek.
 
“Please say you want me, just a little.”

“Silly,
darling brat, of course I want you!
 
I
was afraid you might not want me.
 
Your
letters didn’t say very much either.
 
And
look at you.
 
You’re so grown up now.”

Her
mouth curled against his in a little smile.
 
“Not so grown up.
 
Smoke and
mirrors, remember?”

“Beautiful
smoke and mirrors.”
 
He kissed her again, his all-too familiar
response to her tangling with his conscience.
 
Just as impulse was taking the upper hand over reason, the shrill of the
kettle came to his rescue.
 
“Tea?
 
Surely you have
time for that?”

Peg
laughed, the sound prompting a further surge of arousal.
 
“I suppose.”

While
he was busy in the kitchen, she wandered around the flat, touching a book here
and studying a photograph there.
 
“Your
parents?” she held up a small frame for closer inspection.

“Yes, on
their wedding day.”

“I see
where you get your looks.
 
How is your
mother, by the way?
 
Patrick wrote to Dad
that she’d been ill?”

“Doing
better.
 
Turned out to be her gallbladder and once she
recovered from the surgery, she’s been fine.
 
Not that she’d want me to know that.
 
Mother likes to enjoy the full benefits of an illness, if you know what
I mean.”

“Poor
Kendall.
 
Still the devoted son?”

He set
a plate of scones on the table, thankful he’d made it to the bakery that
morning.
 
Holding out a chair for her, he
tried to calm an unreasonable flutter of nerves.
 
“It’s not exactly up to Brown’s standards,
but please,
help
yourself.”

“I like
your flat.
 
It looks like you.
 
Neat and elegant without
being pretentious.”
 

He
grinned at her analysis.
 
“Is that
so?
 
Am I to take that as a compliment?”

“Of
course.”
 
Over the rim of her cup, her gaze caused his skin
to prickle.
 
“You look wonderful.”

“Not losing
my hair yet, or putting on weight?”

She
laughed again.
 
He felt the tension
easing from his shoulders.
 
“Not at all.
 
You’re
taking good care of yourself, I think.
 
Or is someone else doing that for you?”

He
hesitated, fighting the instant return of that tension.
 
“No, Peg.
 
You see before you that rare creature, a single man who’s learned to
take care of himself.”

“Good.
 
I’m glad.”
 
She reached for a scone, taking pains to split it and spread jam on each
half.
 
“I hear you’re the best man.
 
How did that come about?”

“I was
responsible for introducing the lovebirds.
 
Reggie and I have been friends since prep-school.
 
His father was my father’s physician, in
fact.
 
He’d been finishing up his
residency in Manchester, so we hadn’t seen much of one another for a
while.
 
He came down to London one
weekend and I insisted he come along to a tennis party I’d been commandeered
for.
 
I never expected he and Maeve would
hit it off, but it was really love at first sight.
 
Happy ending all around,
really.
 
Reggie was on the rebound
from a disastrous match-up with a girl who would have made him miserable for
life, daughter of a bankrupt earl who wanted his money but didn’t give a fig
for him.
 
And of course Maeve was that
close to becoming a spinster with a reputation for bad judgment.
 
I think they’ll do very well together.”

“That’s
sweet.
 
Two almost lost souls finding one
another.
 
From what I hear, this is going
to be the wedding of the season.
 
I was
surprised Maeve wanted me to be a bridesmaid, but it fit into my plans quite
well.”

“Your
plans?”
 
He’d relaxed again, enjoying the sight of her
across his table, almost a though she belonged there.

“Yes.
 
I was coming to London anyway.
 
I’ll be here all summer.”

He set
his cup down very carefully.
 
“All
summer?”

“As
part of my studies, Dad’s giving me a summer in England.
 
I’ll be going to lectures at the British
Museum and the National Gallery and traveling around the country a little bit.
 
In July I’m going to meet Connie and her
mother in Paris for a week.
 
So it wasn’t
like I had to make a special trip for Maeve’s wedding.”
 
She delivered the news in the tone she might
have used to read a menu, but he was aware of her eyes warily gauging his
reaction.
 

“I
see.”
 
He stared into his cup,
contemplating another sip, deciding against it, straightened his spoon to
precisely align with his saucer, his heart thrumming erratically against his
ribs.
 
Refusing to imagine Peg in London
for three months, he found himself wondering how many American college girls
had such opportunities and if they spent the time expanding their minds or merely
sampling European men.
 

“That’s
all you have to say?
 
‘I see’?”
 
Pushing away her plate, she leaned back in
her chair and wrapped her arms defensively over her waist.
 
“I’d hoped you might be a little bit
pleased.
 
You have found someone else,
haven’t you?”

“No!
 
Peg, believe me there’s no one.
 
It’s just that you’ve sprung this on me
rather suddenly.
 
Will you be staying
with Adelaide?”