The Everdon Series- the Complete Set

by L C Kincaide

  “You don’t say!”

  “Don’t look so shocked.” She laughed at Emma’s expression.

  The gentleman’s penchant for skirt chasing didn’t matter. Grace’s personality, however was unexpected. The last time she had seen her cousin, she was drunk and dragging on a cigarette in the parlor. Then again, given the circumstances, so was she, minus the smokes.

  “I have to admit this feels a bit weird. I’ve known you my whole life, and it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time.”

  “It is somewhat like that, isn’t it? You look fantastic, by the way. Great color on you. Love the hair.”

  “Thanks. You look terrific. And no wig.”

  “Thank God! Though I’m still deciding on Frances’ do.”

  They snickered having found themselves on common ground. Emma had always found Grace somewhat aloof and jaded as if bored with life. Having made the cross-Atlantic journey herself, she had a newfound respect for her and the Langstones.

  “I was thinking about you on the way over. All those years of making the trip, I don’t now if I could have done it.”

  “Given the alternative, you would have. Anyway, I love travel and if it’s first class, it’s bearable, even to the Islands.”

  Emma imagined the islands must be in the Caribbean.

  “In fact, Robert and Chloe are honeymooning in St. Martin. I prefer the Dutch side, but that’s me. Here, have another.” She gave Emma another champagne flute, which Emma took gratefully, the bubbles effervescing in her head. Why hadn’t she eaten anything earlier?

  “It will help relax you.” She took a healthy swallow herself.

  “A pity Carrie and John couldn’t make it. It doesn’t feel right them not being here.” Grace mused.

  “John is in Japan, and Carrie’s at school.”

  “Japan? Heavens! And how is our little Schroeder?”

  Emma grinned at the old nick-name. “Juilliard awarded her a scholarship.”

  “Really? I shouldn’t be surprised. She is a talented girl.”

  “She is.”

  “It’s good everyone has moved forward in their lives. I thought we’d be forever making the pilgrimage to Everdon Manor like our grandparents and theirs before us. I can imagine how tedious that must have been crossing the Atlantic by ship.”

  “Oh God, they had to didn’t they?” And she thought a three-hour drive was torture.

  “So, what do you make of your brother’s fiancée?” She changed the subject.

  “Chloe is an okay sort. Like her mother, but she grows on you after a while. She did on my brother, at any rate.” She hitched a bare shoulder revealed by an asymmetric shimmering silver sheath that skimmed her figure to her ankles. It matched her platinum spikes. It seemed to Emma she had gained a little weight since the last time lending her still lean frame gentler curves and softening her features though her eyes were still sharp. Her direct expression remained unchanged, and Emma was thankful for it. In a foreign landscape, she needed familiarity.

  “I heard what happened to you and about John’s accident. Of course, daddy wouldn’t tell me the details.”

  Emma covered her surprise by slowly sipping her drink. What could she say? “Yes, I went back and must have slipped and fallen…”

  Grace blew out a puff of air. “Bollocks! I know something went on. It affected me and Robert. What I want to know is it really over?”

  “Were you badly hurt when you fell?”

  “Bumps and bruises. And I didn’t fall. Something pushed me.” She raised a defiant chin suggesting no one had believed her. Emma could relate.

  “You’re right. An angry and hostile entity bore a grudge against us all and it is gone. It won’t bother anyone again.”

  Grace exhaled and her shoulders dropped a fraction. “Well, you can’t imagine how relieved I am to hear that! Blimey! The notion of living my life looking over my shoulder held no appeal whatsoever!”

  “I know what you mean.” Emma’s gaze swept around for any eavesdroppers listening in on their bizarre conversation. Everyone was involved with their own chat and if any ghosts were present, she didn’t notice.

  “Those Everdons were quite the lot! I often imagine my life before this year as some sort of dream I had to relive. I am truly glad that part of it is over. Drink up and I’ll take you over to Robert so you can meet his blushing bride-to-be.”

  Emma was glad to give her cousin news that made her happy, but at the same time she wanted to clear the Everdon name. The cause of all the misery had been a Ruskin, and it had come looking for her, not the other way around. They still believed she was the one responsible for starting things up and it chafed at her.

  Setting down their empty glasses, Grace led her to Robert.

  “Emma! How wonderful to see you’ve made it!” Robert greeted her with an awkward embrace. Looking more like an Everdon than a fair-haired Langstone, he was even more handsome than before, dressed in a three-piece suit with a crisp white shirt and wine tie. The memory of her girlhood fantasies of him and them together arose briefly. That time had passed, and she didn’t regret it.

  “You look great. So sorry about your accident. I… we were so worried about you.”

  “I’m fine. All is well.” He said brushing it off not wanting to dwell on unpleasant family history. He turned to a tall, bird-like young woman at his side. The white satin strapless gown hung from her thin frame — she could have easily transported an egg in each hollow of her clavicles. Wide black eyes regarded her with curiosity, a polite smile curving scarlet lips. A pair of crystal (or diamond) encrusted combs held back raven wings, the rest of the mane flowing down her back.

  “Darling, this is my cousin Emma. Emma, this is my fiancée, Chloe.”

  Emma offered her hand and cool fingers grasped it. “Yes, of course, the American cousin. I am so pleased to meet you. Robert has spoken so warmly about you.” She gave Emma a smile similar to her father’s.

  He has? Emma was curious about what he had to say about her. Until their last Weekend when she brought Ivy and got drunk and started all the trouble afterward, she was convinced he had paid her no attention at all.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I must say hello to Elinor.” He planted a light kiss on his fiancée’s cheek and strode away.

  “You really should have one of these quiche tarts.” Grace plucked one from a tray and popped it in her mouth. ”They’re divine!”

  Emma took one hoping one of the ingredients was bacon. She still craved the breakfast she’d missed.

  “Oh, no, I couldn’t, possibly.” Chloe waved a bony wrist sparkling with a diamond-studded tennis bracelet.

  “It must be pre-wedding jitters.” Grace gave her a conspiratorial wink.

  “I suppose. The wedding is only a few hours away.”

  “So it is. And before we know it, you’ll be my sister-in-law and the new Lady Langstone.”

  Their eyes locked for a moment and Emma suspected something between the two. “And what a wonderful addition you will be to the family. We could certainly use some new blood!” She turned to Emma. “How about you? Anyone on your radar?”

  “No one in particular.” She gave her practiced vague response when taken off guard. “How about you? You’re more the social butterfly.”

  She flapped a hand. “No time for that with the new career. Terribly busy.”

  “Sir Theo mentioned you work in an Art Gallery.” Emma tried showing interest in Chloe.

  “As a matter of fact, I own it and represent a group of brilliantly talented artists. You really ought to come down and have a look though I will warn you, their pieces are at the high end of the market. All worth it, mind you.”

  Emma wondered if Chloe had just slighted her.

  “I’d love to have a peek if I have time.” Her
smile was as fixed as Chloe’s.

  “Oh, there’s Tommy! He’s photographing the event. You must meet him! Excuse us, Chloe.”

  The restaurant staff had connected two tables to form a rectangle, the seating arrangement reminiscent of the dinners at the manor. As hosts, Clive presided at the head at one end with Pamela at the other, the men among themselves and the women grouped together farther down. Emma sat across from Frances Ruskin who had barely said a word to her since their meeting earlier that day and refrained from making eye contact. Whatever the woman’s problem with her, it was irrelevant as long as it didn’t mess things up with John. Again, it irked her that he had never told his parents the fault lay with a Ruskin and not with her. If anything, she had been the intended victim and John a casualty. You may as well give it up. Pamela droned on while Emma struggled to stay awake.

  By eleven, they disassembled to rest ahead of the big day, and Emma was glad to be returning to her room.

  SATURDAY

  ~*~

  Her hair and make-up done, Emma was ready to get dressed when she discovered a dowdy dress she had neither ordered nor packed hanging on a hanger from the armoire door. Mum! She groaned. Not trusting her daughter, Elinor had purchased the horrible gown behind her back and brought it along! Apparently, she despised her fashion choices even more than she had let on. Emma’s defiant side rose to the challenge, and she stashed the garment in the back of the wardrobe. She wasn’t changing her clothes, and if mum didn’t like it, she could ignore her. That pale color made her look jaundiced, never mind the style. As if that frumpy getup would prevent spinsterhood! More like guarantee it!

  She dressed quickly and called John.

  “So, today’s the big day.” He said.

  “I can’t talk long. Mum’s been after me since dawn to get ready. Being late mortifies her.”

  “She wants to make a good impression.”

  He was the second person to remark on that. When did mum become so concerned with what others thought? “She spent last night doing that. You’d think those people were royalty because they have a double-barrelled name and a fancy accent.”

  He snickered. “What are they like?”

  Emma shrugged. “Nice enough in a standoffish way.”

  “And is the bride the same?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think so. We didn’t exactly hit it off, but I’ll probably never see her again after today, so I can’t say it bothers me.”

  “Is that the dress?” He asked peering at her from the screen.

  “Yep. This is it. Silk chiffon and a lambskin jacket. Mum’s going to hate it. As far as she’s concerned, I’m solely responsible for decimating a herd of cows to fulfill my leather fetishes.”

  “Ouch!” He laughed. “Don’t take it personally.”

  “I’m trying not to, but some days it wears on me. It’s not like I’ll ever be the way she wants me to be.”

  “Nor should you try. Let me see.”

  Emma stepped away from the desk and gave him a slow turn. Then she removed her jacket and waited for a response.

  “I know you’re still there because I can see you.” She laughed nervously.

  “Wow. Just wow. I’m at a loss for words. You look incredible.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “It isn’t too risqué?”

  “Not on you.”

  She beamed. “Thanks. I feel much better now.”

  “Emma!” Elinor called from next door. “Are you ready?”

  “We still have a half hour, mum.” She called back. “See what I mean?” Emma grimaced at the screen.

  “Maybe we should save our talk for later before she gets really nervous.”

  Emma chortled into her hand. “She doesn’t have far to go.”

  “Have a great time today. I need to get ready myself. Mr. Takada is having a dinner for everyone before we all disband.”

  Emma blushed. Of course, he had plans too. Important business plans. “Okay then. I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  “Dewa mata. That’s, see you later.”

  “Show off.” Emma teased.

  “A guy’s got to impress a girl somehow.” He shrugged.

  She waggled her fingers at the screen.

  Elinor stepped into the room just as she closed her laptop.

  She frowned.

  “How lovely for Theo to send the car for us!” Elinor gushed from the back seat of the plush interior.

  Car? It was more like a limo. Sir Theo had always arrived in a Bentley at the manor, so it didn’t surprise her that he preferred them here too.

  “Though I’d never manage driving on the opposite side of the road.”

  “You’re not alone. It doesn’t seem right.”

  They were gliding along the asphalt toward the quaint village of West Hyde where the ceremony would take place in the old stone church. Emma was sure one of the Hyde-Smythes made a point of informing everyone who didn’t yet know; the church located in the town was named after Clive’s great-grandfather, Mr. Beverley Hyde — Emma tried desperately to keep a straight face over that — who had been a long-time mayor.

  Minutes later, the Bentley turned from the main thoroughfare onto a narrow two-lane country road. A few turns later, the limo slowed and joined the procession of other limos as drivers ahead let out the wedding guests. Emma watched with interest as men and women made their way through the open gate and into the Gothic village church.

  “Wow. That’s a lot of people.”

  “Yes. It is a momentous occasion. They are a prominent family and their daughter is marrying a Peer. Nathaniel Langstone was a Viscount, which you should know.”

  Emma gave her mother a sidelong glance and shrugged. “Look at all those silly little hats the women are wearing!”

  Elinor faced her with a pained expression. “They are called, fascinators and if you had listened, you could have had one too.”

  “I didn’t mean I’d wear one. They’re just… interesting.”

  Her mother hadn’t opted for one herself, choosing instead a simple medium brimmed hat. Elinor Everdon Stuart always looked stylish, no matter the occasion, unlike her daughter whose taste was more avant garde. At least she had been spared the commentary regarding her dress. Mum must have given up, or was still reeling in shock over the color.

  Eventually, the limo rolled to a stop and a uniformed attendant opened the door and helped them out. Joining the others, they made their way inside. Hushed and excited voices murmured around them as everyone settled into the pews. As lifelong friends of the family, they were escorted to the front. Emma stepped carefully on the uneven granite terrain to avoid getting her stilettos stuck in a crack. Grace was already in her seat ahead of her wearing a strangely demure champagne/blush organza dress with a buttoned up jacket which surprised her. The Ruskins were seated too, Frances in a peacock green ensemble, her hair a flaming shrub in contrast. Emma’s gaze swept over the gathering. The church was nearly full and still more people were filing in. Before long, it would be standing room only and Chloe would have to muscle her way past them all to get to the altar. She chortled into her hand at the image and Elinor gave her a steely glance.

  “I was stifling a sneeze.” She lied.

  At the front, a door creaked open, and the priest emerged in long white robes carrying a Bible. When Robert stepped out, people — women mostly — gasped. God, he was so handsome wearing a three-piece black tuxedo with tails, a champagne rose boutonnière pinned to his lapel. Emma revisited an old girlhood fantasy, and the last one she’d entertain with him, in which he stood waiting at the altar to make her his new Lady Langstone. That was never meant to be.

  From an alcove, a string quartet began to play and pews creaked and groaned as the guests t
urned toward the back. Chloe appeared at the entrance backlit from the sun and ethereal and in a mass of organza appliqués and seed pearls, her face concealed behind a veil. It looked like she was wearing a tiara. Nobody seemed to notice Clive as he walked his daughter down the aisle. Emma wondered if Chloe was wearing flats nearly blinded by veiling as she was and treading on uneven ground. They came to a stop at the altar, and his duty done, the father handed over his daughter to the groom, but Emma wasn’t looking at them. For a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks because she was seeing double — instead of one Robert there were now two and it took another moment for her to realize it wasn’t a vision she was looking at, but George, or the ghost of her cousin.

  “Oh my God.” She whispered into her hand. He’s here! He came to his brother’s wedding! This she could understand. The bond between the twins had always been strong, and there he was, appearing as she had last seen him years ago. Was Robert aware of his brother’s presence? Should she tell him? Would he believe her? Not likely. But he probably sensed George in some way. Sudden tears sprang to her eyes, and she rummaged in her little purse for a tissue. Again, Elinor’s gaze fell on her and Emma ignored it. Crying at weddings was perfectly acceptable.

  George remained standing at his brother’s side for the length of the ceremony and Emma was barely aware of Robert and Chloe exchanging vows. Her attention was on George, whom she never thought she’d see again and this was probably the last time. His death had been sudden. Nobody had a chance to say goodbye.

  As the priest pronounced the couple lawfully wed, George turned his head toward her and smiled. He touched a finger to his temple in a mock salute and before Emma could wave back, he disappeared. She brought her hand down before Elinor could see she was about to wave. Maybe it was a gift after all, and she was glad to have witnessed his presence.

  So, it was done. Robert was married and making his way to the front of the church with Chloe on his arm where Tommy waited with his assistants to take pictures they would treasure for generations. She waited with Elinor at the side with the others waiting for their cue to fall into place for the group photos. After that, she’d be on her own for a while. Too happy to care, Chloe looked unfazed as Tommy directed her and everyone else in a succession of what seemed a million pictures.