Vendetta

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  Wade seemed startled. “You…don’t object?”

  “Not at all.” Blair led him across the room and indicated the comfortable chair and table lamp. “Sit here. Courtney and I need some fresh air. When you’re finished, we’ll talk.”

  The mayor eyed him suspiciously. “What if I decide to destroy it while you’re gone?”

  Blair merely smiled. “I think, by the time you’re finished, you’ll change your mind. Or rather, Sarah will change it for you.” He caught Courtney’s hand and led her toward the door. “Make yourself comfortable, Mayor Bentley.”

  Courtney was too confused, her mind too befuddled, to do more than allow herself to be led in silence along the dock. When they came to the end, Blair sat down and she settled herself beside him.

  When he dropped an arm around her shoulders, she turned worried eyes to him. “Was Wade the vandal?”

  He nodded. “I’m pretty sure of it, though I’ll want to hear it from his own lips.”

  “But why?”

  “He believes there are things in Sarah’s journal that will ruin his political career.”

  “Are there?”

  Blair shrugged. “ in the wrong hands it could prove damaging. But that isn’t why my aunt wrote it. This isn’t about revenge or ruining anyone’s good name.”

  “Why did she write it?”

  “She wanted to leave me something of herself. Something positive enough to undo some of the damage that had been done, I think.”

  “What kind of damage?” She touched a hand to his. “Blair, why have you never told me about yourself and your family?”

  “Until now I thought only of the negatives. But after reading Sarah’s journal, I can see that there were plenty of positives, as well. I just hadn’t been aware of them.”

  When he saw the questions in Courtney’s eyes he drew up one knee and wrapped his arms around it, staring at the path of moonlight across the water. “The first time I came here, I was a frightened, angry eight-year-old, whose parents had gone through a bitter divorce, leaving me to fend for myself while they continued to inflict as much damage on each other as was humanly possible. When I first saw my aunt Sarah at the train station, I saw a cranky old spinster who welcomed me, not with open arms but with strict rules. At bedtime, instead of hugs and kisses, she read aloud to me from the classics until I fell asleep. As the years went by and my parents drifted from one messy relationship to another, my summers with my aunt were my only constant. Despite the lack of affection, there was a sort of permanence here. Her rules became part of my life, whether I liked them or not. Her discipline became mine. And, I suppose, her cold acceptance of the way things are seeped into my conscience. Because I preferred a life alone to one of constant tension, I decided that marriage wasn’t in the stars for anyone with half a brain in the Colby family. We were a breed apart.”

  “How has Sarah’s journal changed that?”

  Her question had him going very still. “I always thought of Sarah as a spinster because no man would have her. A tough old bird who had no patience for men or their weaknesses. What I learned from her letters is that she had, in fact, a wildly passionate love affair with a man. A married man. She had come here to Devil’s Cove to consider his proposal. But when she saw what my parents’ bitter divorce had done to me, she made a choice that would forever change not only her life but that of her lover. He had children, you see, and she couldn’t bear the thought of inflicting the pain on them that she saw me endure.”

  Courtney’s eyes went wide. “Wade’s father?”

  Blair nodded. “She had been his secretary, and then his personal assistant. She describes in detail how it happened, gradually, over a period of years, until one day they could no longer deny the passion between them. When she ended it, he begged her to reconsider. She admits in her journal that forbidding him to ever see her or call her or write her was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her entire life. But she did it for me. For his own children. And, finally, for her own sense of self-worth. And she died without regrets.” His voice lowered. “What she wrote is a series of love letters to the nephew who, without ever being held or hugged by her, owned her heart. What she gave me is a renewed sense of respect for my family and for myself.” He leaned toward Courtney and brushed her mouth with his. “I have you to thank for discovering the hiding place of this extraordinary series of love lett

  “You would have found her journal eventually.”

  “Maybe. But I’ve opened that drawer a dozen times or more since coming back, and never once did I think about the lack of depth.” He chuckled. “And I call myself an architect. Scale should be one of the first things I notice.”

  “Hidden in plain sight.”

  He nodded. “Exactly. It was brilliant. But she was counting on my finding it eventually.”

  They both looked over when the door to the cottage opened and light spilled into the darkness. Seeing the mayor standing there, Blair caught Courtney’s hand and led her along the dock to the porch.

  Wade Bentley cleared his throat, and it was obvious that he’d been deeply moved by what he’d read. His earlier anger had drained away, leaving him close to tears.

  “Come inside, Wade.” Blair stepped past him and moved to the cupboard, where he removed a bottle of whiskey. “We need to talk.”

  While Blair filled three tumblers, and Courtney took a seat at the table, Wade paced back and forth, too agitated to sit.

  “When did you first learn about your father and my aunt?” Blair asked as he offered Wade a drink.

  “When my father knew he was dying. He told me there were things I ought to know.” Wade drank half the liquid in one long swallow. “I was shocked. I’d always thought my parents had the world’s perfect marriage. I remember being glad that my mother was already dead and wouldn’t have to hear any of this garbage if it should find its way into the media.” He lifted the tumbler and drained it. “Then I got angry. At my father. At your aunt. Especially your aunt, for telling my father she’d kept a journal, and was leaving it to her nephew. How dare she leave a smear on my family’s good name!” His tone lowered. “It’s been eating at me for years. And then, when your aunt died and I knew the cottage was vacant, I thought I’d search for the journal. All I wanted to do was destroy it so it wouldn’t be around to dredge up old scandals.”

  “And possibly mar your political future?” Blair’s voice was equally passionate.

  “Yeah. There’s that.” Wade eyed the whiskey bottle, and Blair filled the tumbler a second time before handing it to him.

  This time Wade took just a sip before sitting beside Courtney at the table. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone. But after you moved in, I figured maybe you brought the journal with you, and I was desperate to find it and destroy it.”

  “That’s how you happened to be here when the police came.”

  Wade nodded. “After taking the two of you out for coffee, I realized you’d never read the journal. I could tell you didn’t have a clue about my father and your aunt.”

  Blair ran a finger around the rim of his untouched drink. “What did you think I’d do with the journal if I found it?”

  “There are political enemies who would pay a lot of money to learn these secrets. I figured you’d use it to destroy

  “Wouldn’t I have to destroy my aunt’s reputation in the process?”

  Wade shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t thinking about that. I just knew that whoever had your aunt’s journal held my political future in their hands.”

  Blair looked directly at him. “I’m not interested in your future, Wade. Political or otherwise. As I told Courtney, I see my aunt’s journal as a very personal love letter to me. But I do believe you owe it to the police chief, and to those who believe in your political future, to be honest and forthright about what you’ve done. You brought a sense of fear to this good community. You caused the police force to work overtime. And you’re asking decent, trusting people to endorse you for high political office.�
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  Wade blanched. “You’re right, of course. I’ll talk to Chief Thompson first thing in the morning.” He turned to Courtney. “I’ll tell your grand father what I did, and why, and place my future in his hands. That is, if I have any future left in politics.”

  Courtney felt tears sting her eyes. “The worst thing you did was to plant the seed of mistrust about a sweet girl who works for me.”

  “Kendra. I feel rotten about that.” Leaving the rest of his drink untouched, he pushed away from the table. “I know an apology at this late date can’t undo all the damage I’ve done. But believe me when I say how sorry I am about all of this.” He turned to Blair. “Your aunt was a really special lady. It took real courage to face up to what she and my father had done, and from her journal, I know that she suffered terrible loneliness after cutting him out of her life. I’m glad she had you every summer.”

  “I’m glad we had each other.” Blair managed a smile as he accepted the mayor’s handshake. “Thanks, Wade. Whatever you decide about your political future, I wish you luck.”

  When the mayor was gone, Blair returned to the table and glanced at their untouched drinks.

  Picking up his tumbler, he touched the rim of his glass to Courtney’s. “To Aunt Sarah.”

  “To Aunt Sarah.”

  They drank and then, without a word, they stood and linked hands as they went about the room turning out the lights before making their way to the bedroom.

  With only the spill of moonlight through the window, Blair gathered Courtney close and pressed his mouth to a tangle of hair at her temple.

  His voice was hushed in the darkness. “I honestly thought there was a gene rendering our family incapable of love. I really believed that the only thing we could master was short-term relationships. It’s why I never thought about my own future. Now I feel reborn. Thanks to Sarah, I realize that it’s possible for even a Colby to demonstrate courageous, unselfish acts of love.”

  Slowly, softly, as though he had all the time in the world, he undressed her before moving to the bed where, with the softest of sighs and the gentlest of touches, he took her on a sweet, unhurried journey of love.

  Epilogue

  Courtney lay amid the twisted bed linens, gravitating toward the spill of sunlight through the gap in the curtains. As she shifted, she realized she was alone in bed.

  She looked across the room to see Blair quietly turning the page of his aunt’s journal. When he realized she was awake he looked over, and she felt a jolt at the look in his eyes. There was a calmness, a serenity, that she’d never seen before.

  “’Morning, sleepyhead.” He crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed and brush her mouth with his.

  Would she always feel this jolt at the mere touch of him? “How long have you been awake?”

  “Hours.” He nodded toward the kitchen. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

  She lay back, feeling pampered. His lovemaking during the night had been so tender, so careful, as though she were made of spun glass and he was afraid one wrong move might cause her to shatter. When had this careless, cocky bachelor become the ultimate lover?

  “Here.” He waited until she propped herself up with pillows before handing her a cup.

  She sipped, and wondered at the lightness around her heart. “Still reading your aunt’s journal, I see.”

  He nodded. “I suppose each time I read it, I’ll find something new that I overlooked before.” He paused and chose his words carefully. “I’d like you to read it when you have time.”

  She couldn’t think of a higher compliment. “I’d love to, Blair.”

  He brightened. “Good. Maybe later today. Right now, I think we’d better get ready for brunch with your family.”

  She laughed. “I’m glad one of us has a brain this morning. I’d completely forgotten what day it is.”

  Trudy looked up from the stove when Courtney and Blair stepped into the kitchen. “You missed the excitement.”

  “What excitement?” Courtney reached over the old housekeeper’s shoulder and broke off a piece of cinnamon roll, only to have her knuckles rapped by a wooden spoon.

  “No samples.” Trudy stepped in front of the pan so Courtney couldn’t reach for another taste.

  “The police chief was here with the mayor. They were closed in the Judge’s office for an hour or more. When they came out, everybody looked pretty grim. If you ask me, I think they’ve figured out who those vandals were, but nobody’s talking.”

  “Are they staying for brunch?” Courtney glanced out the French doors.

  “Nope. The Judge invited them, but they said they had things to do.” Trudy offered Blair her most inviting smile. “I guess since Courtney had a sample, I could give you one, too.”

  “Thanks, Trudy.” He accepted the other half of the cinnamon roll a

  “I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to eat a store-bought roll again.”

  “Huh. Those things. Pure junk,” she said with contempt. “You want real food, you just ask old Trudy.”

  He winked as he followed Courtney out to the patio.

  As always, Frank Brennan stood by the grill, turning giant slabs of salmon, beef and sausage with one of his latest inventions, a combination spatula, fork and something that looked like a squeegee. Standing around him holding frosted drinks were Emily’s husband, Jason Cooper, and Hannah’s husband, Ethan Harrison.

  The women were busy setting the table, arranging flowers and rolling out a serving tray on which rested a tray of assorted juices and a bottle of champagne.

  While Courtney joined her mother, grand mother and sisters, she noted that Blair headed over to join the men. A short time later he and Frank disappeared inside the house, leaving Jason and Ethan to handle the grill.

  When Blair and her grandfather emerged a short time later, they were talking and laughing together with the sort of camaraderie usually reserved for comfortable old friends. Though she wondered about it, Courtney had little time to think before being given the task of finding something heavy enough to anchor the pretty lace tablecloth that covered the patio table.

  Bert pointed to the open doors. “There are two crystal vases shaped like shells in the great room that would look perfect with Sidney’s flower arrangement.”

  Overhearing his wife, Frank turned to Blair.

  “Maybe you’d better give Courtney a hand with those.”

  Blair nodded and followed Courtney inside.

  “I saw you talking with Poppie.” Courtney found the shell vases and handed one to him.

  “Did he tell you what the mayor and police chief had to say?”

  “The mayor confessed to the vandalism and offered to withdraw his name from the ballot. For now he’s in a sort of political limbo while the powers-that-be decide his future. Your grandfather said that after Chief Thompson thundered around the room for a while, he calmed down enough to admit that there wasn’t anything he could do unless we swore out a warrant for the mayor’s arrest.

  He’ll be talking to us later today. I’ve already assured your grandfather that I don’t want a pound of flesh. I’d just as soon see the issue fade away.”

  Courtney touched a hand to his cheek. “You’re a good man, Blair Colby.”

  He caught her wrist, stilling her movement. “Do you mean that?”

  Her smile faded when she saw the intense look in his eyes. “Of course I mean it. Why do you ask?”

  “Because you deserve a good man, Courtney. A man who’ll never betray your trust. A man who’ll stand beside you always, no matter what.”

  She started to draw back. “You’re so serious, Blair, you’re scaring me.”

  “Good. At least I have your attention.”

  “Of course you…” She stopped. Her smile returned. “You have my full and complete attention, Mr. Colby.”

  “Your grandfather and I didn’t just come in here to talk about the mayor. I wanted to get him alone so I could ask his permission to marry his granddaughter.” />
  When she merely stared at him, he grinned. “I see I’ve rendered you speechless. That’s good, I think. Anyway, I asked your grandfather’s blessing, and he gave it. So now…” He dropped to his knees and took her hands in his. “Courtney, will you marry me?”

  She felt the quick rush of tears and blinked hard to hold them back. The last thing she wanted was anything that would mar this moment.

  Very slowly he stood and gathered her into his arms. “I never thought, when I was that angry little boy, that I’d want to spend my life in Devil’s Cove. But meeting you changed everything. Here, with you, is the only place I want to be. I want to sail these waters with you, and walk these hills. I want to build my dream home here, somewhere nearby on the water, and grow old with you.” He tipped up her chin and stared deeply into her eyes.

  “Please don’t say no, Courtney. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

  “Oh, Blair. How could I refuse you? I thought I would never trust a man again. But I’d trust you with my heart. My life. My future.”

  He brushed his mouth over hers. “Is that a yes?”

  There was a distinct cough from the doorway, and they looked up to see her entire family standing behind her mother and grandparents. All of them grinning wildly.

  “Was that a yes?” Frank Brennan demanded.

  “Poppie. I can’t believe you were eavesdropping.”

  “Not eavesdropping, my darling. Openly listening. This is, after all, our home. Now tell me what you said. We’re waiting for your answer.”

  She turned to Blair and brushed her mouth over his. “Yes. Oh, yes, my darling. Yes.”

  Frank cupped a hand to his ear. “Eh? What did she say?”

  “She said yes,” came a chorus of voices behind him.

  Ignoring their audience, Blair gathered her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly, much to the delighted cheers and shouts of her family.

  Against his lips she whispered, “You see what you’re getting yourself into?”