The Everdon Series- the Complete Set

by L C Kincaide

  They were in luck with the weather. The morning had dawned with a smattering of clouds, but now sunshine washed over them on this perfect spring day. After Tommy took the last group photo, Emma wandered along the path winding through the cemetery joining a group of restless flower girls and page boys who chased each other in the grass. From farther away, a girl watched them with solemn interest. When the mother of one of the children stomped into the cemetery and called for the children to stop and behave, the silent observer faded away. Emma wandered over to where the vision had been and read the engraving on the headstone. Nine-year-old Alice had died of influenza in 1918. Glancing around, Emma saw the little girl wasn’t the only child buried here.

  She heard someone calling her name and hurried up the path in her stilettos meeting Grace halfway there, also teetering on her heels.

  “These gravel paths are rubbish to walk on!” She grumbled. “Your mother’s been looking for you. We’ll be leaving for the reception soon.”

  ~*~

  The Hyde-Smythe mansion was on a sprawling estate only a few miles away. The Bentley passed through tall wrought iron gates and coasted up the long, hedged approach toward an old two-story Tudor structure of red brick topped with matching shingles and stepped roofs. Rows of arched windows competed for light behind swaths of green ivy, and blooming topiaries guarded the doorway. Again, they waited for their turn to disembark.

  An usher greeted them in the entrance hall; a large room with plastered walls in burnished gold. Heavy exposed timber ceiling beams brought the ceiling even lower than it was lending the room a claustrophobic feel. Complementing the dark woods, a wide carved staircase led upstairs and herringbone oak floors stretched farther into adjoining rooms where guests had gathered sipping champagne amidst antique furniture.

  His companion, a woman he’d only met briefly and had one date with was chattering excitedly and tugged on his sleeve when a flash of hot pink caught his eye. The young woman was accompanied by an older lady, her mother, he presumed, and she waited for an usher to escort them upstairs. In a plethora of garish prints, her simple yet bold ensemble impressed him. It took an exceptional personality to not only choose such an outfit in that color, but to carry it with style and dignity. He further observed that she was a lovely sandy-haired woman with expressive blue eyes and a raised chin indicating a strong nature as he had already deduced. And her legs were beyond reproach.

  Phoebe tugged at him. “And what are you grinning about?” She asked. Her tone was playful, but just barely masked a possessiveness that was beginning to wear on him. Was he grinning? He wasn’t aware of it.

  Phoebe followed his gaze and frowned. “Hmm. Rather loud, wouldn’t you say?”

  Adam said nothing, suspecting his date would approve even less of his thoughts regarding the young woman herself.

  Elinor gave her a nudge to follow her and the usher up the oak staircase and down a dim, board-and-batten panelled corridor to their rooms.

  “Madam.” He stopped at a door and held it open for Elinor.

  “Your room is right here, Miss.” He indicated the next door.

  “Thanks.” Emma said relieved to have her own room. Movement caught her eye just as she was about to cross the threshold and turned to see an old man wearing a night cap and long sleep shirt shuffling down the hall. That’s weird, she thought. Did the Hyde-Smythes have a roaming grandpa? He stopped in front of a closed door and passed through it. Emma congratulated herself on not screaming or gasping out loud. She must be getting better at this. The cemetery experience had helped in preparing her, and she found that not all spirits were evil and violent like the Ruskin poltergeist, and she thanked the powers above for that. She realized the usher was still waiting for her to enter.

  “Sorry.”

  He followed, set her bag on the bench and left.

  Like downstairs, the walls were plaster beneath a sloped plaster and beamed ceiling. Two armchairs angled in front of a stone fireplace. She would be spending the night in a typically English bed with a high wood-paneled headboard and barley-twist posts supporting a framed canopy. All that was missing were bed curtains. And John… no, she wouldn’t go there. Not now.

  The scarred floorboards creaked as she walked to the window with a view of verdant grounds that stretched into the distance. Guests meandered on the manicured lawn with their drinks and admired the garden. To the right, she noticed that a pavilion festooned with ivy and boughs of champagne roses interwoven with fairy lights had been set up for dancing.

  Emma sighed and turned away. Her aloneness growing more acute by the moment, she checked her cell phone. Already going on three, it was almost eleven for John. On a Saturday night, he was probably still at his function. Perching on the edge of her bed, Emma slipped off her shoes and wiggled her cramped toes. Wandering the gravel path in the cemetery hadn’t been the best idea, she mused rubbing her sore feet. The formal sit-down dinner would give her a break before the dancing and celebrations began. At least they wouldn’t have to return to the hotel afterward. She took out her make-up case and padded to the dressing table to touch-up.

  Voices echoed in the hall letting her know she too ought to head downstairs. Right on cue, Elinor rapped on her door.

  “Coming, mum.”

  Elinor and Emma paused at the entrance of a dining hall, its doorways and arched windows festooned with garlands of ivy and roses, and announced themselves to the usher. While he consulted the seating chart, they appraised the two dozen round tables draped in crisp white linen, each decorated with a centerpiece of champagne roses, baby’s breath and satin ribbon. Afternoon sunlight streamed from the leaded glass windows and glanced off the china and silverware, lending the space a magical quality further enhanced with topiaries strung with fairy lights twinkling in the corners of the spacious room. The string quartet that had played in the church were set up at a discreet distance playing classical music in the background of lively chatter. The Hyde-Smythes had spared no expense when it came to their only child’s wedding and reception, and fortunately, they had the means to impress a Lord and their new Lordly son-in-law.

  Whoever devised the seating arrangement had the good sense to band the older generation together and assemble the young people separately. An usher escorted her to a table of strangers close to her age she had glimpsed at the wedding while the other led Elinor to join the Ruskins. Grace was at Robert’s table with her father and the Hyde-Smythes. Glancing around the assembly of the Hyde-Smythe’s and Langstone’s friends and family, she decided if she stood out, as mum feared she would, it was in a good way considering some of the outfits on display, never mind the headgear! As her eyes swept the room, she caught the intense gaze of a startlingly handsome dark-haired man from across the room. For a moment, she wondered if he was real or a ghost, but the woman beside him leaning closer and vying for his attention settled that. Emma looked away and focused on her food finding her appetite had disappeared. A loneliness was creeping up on her again despite her best efforts to keep it at bay. If John were here, she wouldn’t have to be alone among a bunch of foreign strangers, providing they would have been seated together since nobody knew they had been seeing each other. Even if he had suggested they book the same flight, she couldn’t leave mum on her own. If Matthew and Rachel had come, things would have worked out so much better. She pretended to eat and encouraged the waiter to refill her wineglass.

  He spotted her again during the reception dinner. Knowing to look for the vibrant color that reminded him of tropical blooms and warm breezes made it easier, providing she had not changed clothes in the meantime. He would have found her just the same though maybe not as quickly. She was unaware of his gaze until she caught him watching her. In the brief moment, he thought he detected a sadness there, and she broke contact almost as soon as their eyes met. Her boldness and vulnerability intrigued him and he vowed to meet her before leaving for t
he night. He hadn’t counted on her popularity once she got to the dance floor, however.

  Like she had intended months ago, Emma took to the dance floor. It made no difference who she danced with for everyone was new and some men could actually move in time to the music played by a genuine English band. Moving to a beat always bolstered her spirits, and she planned on a lot of dancing.

  After a turn with a partner who lacked rhythm but made up for it in enthusiasm, she begged off and found the nearest unoccupied table and took a chair. The shoes were great for strutting around in, and dancing too as long as she focused on the music, but ooh when she stopped… they were seriously pinching. Was it considered gauche to slip them off in public? Well past sunset with everyone a fair distance away and her feet under a table, nobody could tell, and besides, who cared? She slipped one off then the other with her liberated toes and closed her eyes in relief. The cool grass was heaven on her bare skin.

  “Hello.” A male voice with an English accent addressed her.

  Emma’s eyes flew open to a smile. It belonged to a tall, dark-haired man near Robert’s age. His hands were in his pockets, his head slightly angled and he was regarding her with an amused expression. In a black suit and white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, he was very James Bond in appearance. Holy smokes! She recognized him from their brief glance from across the dining room. Yes, he was very real.

  “Pardon the intrusion.” He continued. “Allow me to introduce myself.” He stepped closer. “Adam Kinsley.”

  “Emma Stuart.” She straightened herself in the chair and reached for his extended hand. It slipped into a warm and strong clasp. Adam Kinsley. An image of an old manor came to mind as she met and held the intense gaze. Why did it seem so familiar when she’d seen him for the first time today? His smile too, the way his lips turned up at the corners, but those smokey eyes… she blinked realizing her hand was still in his and she was staring. He released it and her cheeks warmed with embarrassment. What had gotten into her?

  “May I join you?”

  Emma nodded, and he took the chair nearest to her.

  “I have a confession to make.” He said, his eyes twinkling with humor. “I’ve been hoping to meet you all evening, but I didn’t count on your popularity on the dance floor. Grace said I would find you here.”

  “In all honesty, neither did I.” She returned his smile. “Are you a friend of hers?”

  “We’ve met socially a few times though I’m here by invitation of the Hyde-Smythes. ” He explained. “Grace mentioned you’re visiting from America. How are you finding everything so far?”

  “I haven’t seen much besides the airport and the hotel, but the church was impressive and this place — I’ve never been inside a house this old.”

  “It’s a fine example of the Tudor style. You’ll find many old buildings in these parts.”

  “There are quite a few of those in Boston too, but not like this. Have you ever been to the States?”

  “No. Not yet at any rate.” He reached into his breast pocket and offered her a business card.

  Her eyes widened at the letterhead — Everdon Manor. Below was his name, General Manager as the title.

  “Oh. I had no idea it was open to the public.” Was all she could say.

  “It has been for a few years now since the renovations were completed. I think you, especially would be impressed with how it turned out.”

  “What makes you say that?” She said surprised.

  “I understand that you, Miss Stuart are the last direct descendant of the Everdon family.”

  “Well, yes, that’s true, but if you want information, you should be talking to my mother. She knows a lot more than I do. I’d be happy to pass on your card…”

  “I’m sure she’s well-versed, but it’s not information I’m looking for.” He glanced around. “Would you do me the honor of visiting the manor while you’re here? I’m sure it must have crossed your mind to see it, just for comparison’s sake. It is exquisite, very much like it was two hundred years ago, but with modern conveniences.”

  “Everdon Manor with WiFi?” She grinned.

  “Among other things.”

  “And I would like to see you again if I may be so bold.”

  Was he flirting with her? Emma hid her blush by glancing at the card and the too familiar silhouette of the manor above the name. If the idea had crossed her mind, it must have been fleeting because she had no recollection of it. Her last stay under an Everdon roof had nearly cost her her life and possibly her sanity. But this was another Everdon Manor, one without love obsessions, grisly murders and arson and curses before Mason Everdon went haywire.

  She met his smokey gaze. He didn’t strike her as a man who was turned down very often, if at all, though he wasn’t arrogant or conceited in any way she could see. In fact, he seemed genuine as he waited for an answer he hoped would be, yes.

  A woman approached them in quick strides across the lawn.

  “There you are! So sorry to intrude.” She gave Emma a frosty look.

  Yeah, right — she didn’t look sorry at all.

  “You promised me a dance and they’re playing my favorite song.”

  He shrugged with resignation and rose to his feet. “Please, give it some thought. You may never have another chance to see this extraordinary piece of your history.”

  “I will.” She stashed the card in her purse. “It was lovely meeting you, Mr. Kinsley.”

  “The pleasure was entirely mine.“ He inclined his head already thinking of finding her after this dance.

  Beside him, the woman tapped a scarlet finger against her folded arm, then snagged him and hurried away.

  Grace tiptoed over, wary of her spike heels sinking into the grass. “So, he found you after all.” She lowered herself into the chair and crossed her legs. Changed out of the midi-dress, she was back in her usual mid-thigh, body hugging attire, this one in gold.

  “Have you known him long?”

  “I’ve met him a few times at parties. He’s actually more friendly with the Hyde-Smythes. They stayed at the manor once and were quite charmed by it.” She grimaced finding the notion preposterous. “Since then, they’ve held several business functions there. In a roundabout way, Chloe and Robert met through him.”

  “It must be really something.”

  “Presumably, though I have no intention of finding out. I’d just as soon put the whole tawdry business behind me. He tried to coax me into having a look, but… ” she shrugged.

  “Can’t say I blame you.”

  “Ironically, the H-Ss wanted to hold the reception there. Can you imagine? Heavens! After what happened last year, never mind the year before?” Grace barked a laugh. “Of course, Robert scuttled the idea immediately and it may have led to his first real row with Chloe. In practical terms, the ballroom would have been more suitable than this claustrophobic old hall. One is inches away from grazing the ceiling in spots.” She touched the tops of her spikes as if to make sure no plaster was trapped among them. Given her height and her fondness for towering heels, it must be a precarious venture just crossing the room.

  “People must have been shorter back then.” Emma said.

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “So, what’s he like? Is he all right?”

  “All right enough. Easy on the eyes at any rate. Rather popular with the ladies though not one has been able to hold on to him for long.” She gave her a wink and unfolded herself from the chair. “Coming in?”

  “In a minute.”

  She watched Grace tiptoe back to where she came from.

  Elinor had noticed him immediately; a tall, handsome man with waves of ebony hair and intense smokey-blue eyes. She hadn’t counted on him being this good-looking and was astounded to discover he was no longer married and furt
her surprised there wasn’t already a brood of Kinsleys toddling about somewhere. Being the same age as Matthew she’d thought he would have been settled in life by now. Apparently, not. The woman clinging possessively to his arm had at first reassured her the man will not stray far, but he had found Emma just the same. And how could he not, dressed as she was in shocking pink? If her intention had been to stand out, she had succeeded on that score. She may as well have had a flashing beacon attached to her head!

  Their exchange had been brief, lasting only a second, but it was too long in her opinion. Again, she berated herself for not making the trip to London sooner and dealing with the situation then instead of taking a risk later. Fortunately, it wasn’t too late. Following a conversation with her host and hostess, she planned on paying a visit to the lawyer’s the day after tomorrow and set things right. She hadn’t sacrificed her life to see it all unravel now.

  After a few more minutes, Emma collected her stilettos and taking a glass of orange juice, she wandered inside and settled herself in a quiet corner. Her cell phone showed no new messages, and she stashed it back in her purse, leaned against the backrest and slipping her shoes off again, she sipped her drink. Outside, the party continued and her bare feet tapped in time to the distant rhythm against the floorboards. She hadn’t seen her mum in hours. Maybe she had already gone to bed. In another hour, so would she. It’s not like anyone she knew would miss her. Adam Kinsley had been dragged away, and the woman was not about to let him out of her sight again judging from the way she had latched on to him.