Mostly Perfect

by Heather B. Moore

  When the plane landed, Nick rose to his feet and lifted down both of their luggage items, then he let Lauren lead the way off the plane. He’d rented a car, and he wasn’t surprised that Lauren had little to say. She was back to her reflective mood.

  Once they were in the car, heading to Ambrose, Lauren said, “I don’t want to offend you or anything, but your, um, tendency toward PDA might be a little shocking for my grandmother.”

  Nick glanced over at Lauren. “You mean like kissing or like holding hands?”

  “All of it.” Her gaze connected with his. “It’s just that things between us are new, and she’s kind of old-fashioned, if you know what I mean.”

  “What about if we’re alone in one of the dark hallways?” Nick teased.

  “Then . . . maybe we could relax the rules a little.”

  “Good enough for me,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  Her fingers linked with his, and he found them cool to the touch. “Are you nervous?”

  She nodded, and when he stopped at the traffic light headed into town, he leaned over and kissed the edge of her jaw.

  “Like that,” she said, sounding breathless. “You can’t do that.”

  “We’re not at Ambrose yet.” And since the light was still red, he cradled her face and kissed her on the mouth.

  He could feel her desire in her response, and he’d have to be satisfied with that for now. He didn’t know if Lauren felt the same way about him as he did her. He could only hope. And wait.

  Lauren drew away, her expression softer than it had been in days. “The light’s green.”

  He pulled forward, his pulse jumping from the contact with Lauren. He couldn’t get enough of her, and he wasn’t too excited about keeping his hands to himself while at Ambrose. Hopefully there would be plenty of dark hallways.

  When they arrived at the estate, they bypassed a construction truck. “What’s going on?” he asked Lauren.

  “I think Sofia has insisted on some upgrades and put one of my other sisters in charge,” Lauren said. “I’ve stayed out of it.”

  Nick could see that about Lauren. She really didn’t like complications or conflict, and her family had plenty of it. He parked to the side of the massive garage, not wanting to block anyone from coming and going, then he climbed out and opened the trunk of the car. After unloading the two bags, he looked over at Lauren. She stood, staring at the house, her arms folded.

  Nick hid a sigh. He wished she’d be more open with him. Moving to her side, he said, “Everything okay?”

  She met his gaze, a worried look in her eyes. “I didn’t think I’d be back so soon.”

  Nick realized then that somehow Ambrose haunted her. He didn’t think she hated the place, but she didn’t seem to love it either. Maybe he could change her opinion, since it really was an amazing estate. Full of history and intrigue.

  The front door opened before they could reach it, and Sofia stepped out. She wore an elegant business suit, and her smile was broad. Much different than when Nick had first met her. This Sofia was rather welcoming instead.

  “I saw the car,” Sofia said. “Although Shelton could have easily fetched you.”

  “Thanks for the offer.” Nick stepped forward to shake her hand.

  Sofia and Lauren gave each other a brief hug, and when they separated, Nick asked, “How’s your grandmother?”

  “She’s ready for you,” Sofia said, glancing at Lauren. “We’d like you in the meeting too.”

  “Of course.” Lauren’s tone was formal, almost clipped.

  “Great,” Sofia said. “I’ve got refreshments set up. I know what plane food is like.”

  Nick chuckled, but Lauren remained silent. She was stoic and beautiful, no matter that she wasn’t as formally dressed as her sister. Lauren’s long skirt and V-neck blouse set off her curves, and Nick had firsthand knowledge of how soft the fabric of her clothing was and how she smelled like wildflowers.

  He wanted to smooth back the hair that wisped about her face, if only for an excuse to touch her. But there was too much tension radiating from her. Plus, he’d agreed, no PDA. And . . . he had a business deal to close. Which he really should be focusing on.

  Sofia opened the door wide, and Nick carried in both suitcases. “Shelton will take those to your room for you.”

  And before Nick could protest, Shelton appeared and picked up the bags.

  “This way,” Sofia said. “We’re meeting in the dining room for the table space.” She headed down the wide corridor, and Nick and Lauren followed, walking beneath the crystal chandelier.

  Mrs. Lillian Ambrose was sitting at the head of the dining table, looking as regal as a queen in her ivory suit and elegantly coiffed hair. Ruby earrings studded her ears, and she wore a diamond-and-ruby necklace.

  Lauren crossed to her grandmother and kissed the woman on the cheek.

  “How are you, dear?” her grandmother asked. “I was hoping you’d come.”

  “Here I am,” Lauren said with a smile.

  Mrs. Ambrose turned her twinkling blue eyes on Nick. “Thanks for coming all this way again, Mr. Matthews.”

  “Not a problem.” He stepped forward to shake her hand. “Anything for my business partner.”

  Mrs. Ambrose’s laughter was soft, and she again focused on Lauren. “Help yourself to any of the food, and have a seat.”

  They both did, and Nick sat closest to Mrs. Ambrose so that he could go over each line of the contract with her. As expected, she asked several questions, and Nick was able to answer them to her satisfaction. The last thing he wanted to do was to have to redo the contract and delay it even more. He’d lined up the tech company to start work in a week, and it would be tricky to reschedule everything.

  “Very good,” Mrs. Ambrose said at last. Her gaze shifted to Lauren. “Do you have any questions?”

  “No, I think everything is laid out clearly,” Lauren said.

  “And what about you, Sofia?” Mrs. Ambrose asked her eldest granddaughter.

  “I’m satisfied,” Sofia said. “Like I told you, if you want this partnership, then I support it.”

  “Very well.” Mrs. Ambrose tapped her fingers. “Now give me that pen, young man.”

  Nick smiled and handed over his pen. Mrs. Ambrose made a show of signing each line indicated with her flowery signature. No one else spoke, and when she finished, she turned to Sofia.

  “Your turn, dear.”

  Sophia signed next, then Mrs. Ambrose said, “I think I’m about done in for the afternoon. Can you help me to my room, and we’ll all meet again for dinner?”

  “I’ll help you,” Lauren said, suddenly rising to her feet. She seemed in need of a break of some sort, so Nick said nothing as the two women left.

  “So . . .” Sofia said in a soft voice. “Lauren seems pretty freaked out. What did you do to her?”

  Nick shrugged. “Nothing.”

  “You can’t fool me, Nicholas Matthews.” Sofia folded her arms. “My sister might keep her cards close, but she can’t hide the fact that she’s rattled about something.”

  Nick steepled his fingers. “I might have told her that I’m falling in love with her and that I want to help her break the curse.”

  “Well, that will do it.” Sofia pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. “Come on. I want to show you my grandmother’s journal.”

  “What about Lauren?” he asked, standing as well.

  “She’ll know where to find us.”

  As they left the dining room, Sofia linked her arm through his. “I like you, Nick. And I think you’re a good match for my sister; in fact, I know it. You need to understand something about her, though; when things get too . . . hard . . . she doesn’t stick around. She’d rather shut people out than face conflict.”

  “Yeah, I’ve guessed that already,” Nick said in a dry tone.

  “But don’t take it personally,” Sofia continued. “I mean, you told her how you felt, and I believe she feels the same way.”
>
  This stopped Nick in his tracks, and he turned to look at Sofia. “How do you know?”

  “I know my sister,” Sofia said. “I can hear it in her voice, and the way she was watching you while you were going over the contract, even though she was pretending not to, told me all that I needed to know. My sister wants to love you. She wants to be with you. She just doesn’t know how to give herself permission.”

  “So you’re saying this goes deeper than the curse?”

  Sofia hesitated, then nodded. “Part of breaking the curse is believing that we can live a full life with it no longer hanging over our heads. Not too easy.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you do it?”

  Sofia’s smile lit her face. “Gavin made it easy.” She shrugged. “He believed so wholeheartedly despite any of my doubts, and eventually, I did too. Only then did the curse break once and for all.”

  “What happened to let you know?”

  Sofia’s smile turned secretive. “That’s between Gavin and me. But you’ll know. There will be no doubt, believe me.”

  Nick nodded. He’d have to trust in Sofia’s explanation, along with finding a way to get through Lauren’s walls.

  Sofia seemed to notice his internal battle, because she tugged him toward the sweeping staircase. “She’s worth it, you’ll see,” she said in a hushed voice. “Just don’t give up.”

  Nick didn’t plan to.

  Lauren found them in the library, sitting on the settee, the journal in Sofia’s hand. She hadn’t opened it yet, but it was only a matter of time. Ever since her conversation with Sofia on Sunday night, Lauren had known this would be inevitable. Well, maybe since she realized that she wanted Nicholas Matthews in her life for more than a handful of dates.

  He and her sister appeared to be getting along fine, and her grandmother had also seemed to like him well enough. Lauren stepped into the room, and both of them looked up.

  “How’s Granny?” Sofia asked.

  “She says she wants to rest for a while,” Lauren answered.

  Sofia nodded. “Come sit.” She rose and handed over the journal.

  Lauren took the book and sat next to Nick. She very well knew what was inside, but opening it was still a strange experience, knowing that the penmanship was that of her great-great-grandmother Margaret Florence Thorne Ambrose.

  “I’ve marked the entries that are the most important,” Sofia said. “What you need to know leading up to it is that our great-great-grandparents Margaret and George had two boys, Matty and James, and one daughter, Helen. Their neighbors, the Fontaines, were very close friends.” She paused. “Too close, it ended up, because Mrs. Celeste Fontaine and George Ambrose had an affair. A baby boy was the result, but he died.”

  Lauren could only stare at Sofia as her sister continued the story. “Celeste Fontaine was heartbroken, and Margaret was heartbroken as well when she found out about the affair. But tragedy hadn’t ended. Both of Margaret’s sons Matty and James were killed in freak accidents. They were only boys. Of course, both families were torn apart for different reasons, but it all stemmed from the affair. But then George wanted to reconcile with his wife. This sent Celeste into a vengeful frenzy, and she used a fortune teller name Madame Zelana to cast a spell over the Ambrose family.”

  Sofia nodded at the journal Lauren held. “Read the next entries aloud, and then if Nick has questions, he can ask them after.”

  Lauren swallowed against the lump in her throat, then began to read:

  Life Recordings of Margaret Florence Thorne Ambrose

  May 2, 1912

  My hand is shaking badly as I write this. My eyes so blurry I fear I’m going blind. My limbs are weak. I have taken to my bed.

  Celeste took her final revenge. Two weeks ago, after learning that George would not leave me once and for all to come to her, she cursed him so that I couldn’t have him.

  He died while rounding up cattle with the foreman. Kicked in the head by the sire bull in preparation for mating season with the cows. My husband has ranched for seventeen years, and he was accompanied by experienced ranch hands, no less. His accident is no coincidence.

  George succumbed to death a day later after lying in a coma.

  The doctor said he died of a brain hemorrhage.

  In less than six months I have lost my husband and two sons. How will I ever cope—or survive out here all alone?

  Lauren’s eyes burned with emotion. No one in the room spoke; no one moved. The only sound was the methodical ticking of the grandfather clock as if to confirm that, yes, time did pass. Lauren took a deep breath before continuing with the next entry.

  Life Recordings of Margaret Florence Thorne Ambrose

  August 31, 1912

  My brother, Lloyd, sent his dear wife across the Atlantic to be here with me for the summer. Victoria is so good, so kind. I have grown very fond of my sister-in-law. She brought her lady’s maid, Nellie, with her so she wouldn’t be alone on the ocean voyage.

  Nellie lifts everyone’s spirits with her genuine kindness and laughter and sweet singing.

  Over the last few months, Victoria tried to get me out walking in the gardens, but for most of the summer I sat on the veranda overlooking the estate in my mourning garb, just staring. Occasionally holding Helen who is getting too big for my lap. Actually, she was too big about three years ago, but I crave her closeness, her sweetness, even when she fights to run off and swing in the gardens, or play with the new kittens in the barns.

  Will Celeste take her from me, too? I begged Victoria to take her back to England with her to save her, but Victoria laughs off my worries. I tried to tell her about Celeste and George and the dead infant and the ties with the loss of my sons, but she is convinced it’s all in my imagination.

  Only I know the truth. Because I now have proof of it in Celeste’s own hand.

  In June, Mr. Fontaine sold their ranch and left for San Francisco with his wife. To start over and begin again.

  I have never been so glad to see someone gone.

  But the wicked curse that Madame Zelana concocted for my family over the last year was never undone. The fortune-teller with her séances and mutterings from the underworld disappeared from the village of Ambrose in June. No one knows where she went, but Celeste was sure to give me a dire warning that the Ambrose Curse was in effect until someone could break it. She would not tell me how the curse was to be broken. But in July, after she and Mr. Fontaine were safely in San Francisco I received a letter from the woman. Enclosed was the curse in Madame Zelana’s own hand. Directed by Celeste for our downfall. She never could have loved George if she didn’t care that he died. She only wanted me to suffer for her losses. She could not bear to know that I would have my husband and sons, and she nothing.

  Since I cannot stand to look at the curse for one more second, I will write the details in my own words so my progeny will know what to do to save future generations.

  Madame Zelana stated that in retribution for the loss of Celeste’s son with George, and his subsequent betrayal to her, every Ambrose son and father and brother will die. Every Ambrose daughter or woman who marries will also lose their husbands and sons. Arrogance would not save Ambrose Estate from the curse. Only George could have done that and he had not given in to Celeste. In the end, he shunned her by not running away with her.

  These facts confirmed to me—too late—that George had finally broken all association with her. Something I never believed from my husband’s own mouth. Because I was too distrustful.

  Celeste was bitter and vengeful. She had allowed her own sins to blacken her soul. She didn’t care what her bitter envy would do to George and his family, the man she professed to love.

  This is not love.

  This is wickedness at its deepest depth.

  Madame Zelana states in her vile curse that the only way to break hold of the curse the Ambrose Curse is for every Ambrose women to willingly give up, or lose, something they dearly love. If they do not, they t
oo will lose the men they love.

  The curse was written by Madame Zelana’s own hand and signed with Celeste’s own blood. The devil is in the details.

  I am putting this Journal and Celeste’s Curse in my trunk of mourning clothes. Helen is too young to be told these things yet, but before she is married, I will tell her.

  I have vowed to do my part. I will not return to England. I will stay here and run the ranch and estate myself. All those hours of contemplation in the gardens and ruminating on the veranda of the house George and I built together convinced me that I belong here. England holds nothing for me any longer. It has been nearly twenty years, and it would be too difficult to start over.

  George worked hard for this estate with my own dowry, and it’s the only way I can honor his memory and have peace within myself.

  May God bless my sweet Helen and all the future generations of granddaughters so Ambrose Estate will live on.

  Be brave, Women of Ambrose Estate.

  Lauren wiped at her eyes. She hadn’t realized she’d been crying until the pages blurred before her. “So, the only way to break the curse is to give up something we love.” She met Sofia’s somber gaze. “Or lose it?”

  Sofia gave a somber nod.

  Lauren could feel Nick’s gaze on her. But it was hard to look at him, because she knew he’d see the truth in her eyes—the truth that he was the one whom she loved and that he was the one she’d have to make a sacrifice for.

  Sofia murmured something about giving them some time to themselves and left the room. Even with her gone, Lauren still couldn’t look at Nick.

  “Lauren,” he whispered. Then his hand slid over hers. “What possession do you value the most?”

  Her throat ached, and her eyes burned with tears.

  Finally, she looked into those hazel eyes of his.

  He nodded. “I think any man would be a fool to ask you to give up your Renoir.”

  The tears did spill onto her cheeks then. She knew it was ridiculous to put so much value into a painting from decades ago. But she loved it since it was hers and hers alone. The painting represented how she tried to live her life, in her own way and not catering to the world at large. How could Nick be so understanding of this? Surely he must know how she felt about him. She couldn’t stop thinking about him for even one moment, and—