The Everdon Series- the Complete Set

by L C Kincaide

  Footsteps approached from behind and unknown people settled nearby.

  “Goodness, but this is a celebration!” Frances Ruskin gushed. “I don’t know how much longer I can stay up.”

  “The Hyde-Smythes have certainly put on a party! But I’m afraid it’s wasted on me. I’m simply exhausted.” Elinor replied.

  “Godfrey went up an hour ago, but Theo is still about somewhere.”

  “He looks well. It’s been years since I’ve seen him happy — since before George.”

  They sighed in agreement.

  “Such a shame Caroline and John couldn’t be here. Especially John. He and Robert had always been close.”

  “Yes. He would have enjoyed it, I’m sure. But he’s been so busy with our expansion to the Orient.”

  “Where precisely in Japan is he?”

  “Kobe, and if all goes well, and it appears that way, he will move on to Kyoto. But the real jewel in the crown would be a hotel in Tokyo.”

  “Goodness! How is he managing with the Japanese?”

  “Very well. He’d been taking private language lessons for weeks before leaving and he’s quite fluent, though the writing, Kanji, I believe it’s called, will take more time. But that is what assistants are for.”

  “I’m very impressed, Frances. Godfrey must be over the moon.”

  “Oh, yes. He certainly isn’t missing the long trips. Horrendous and even longer than to fly here!”

  “I can imagine.” She paused. “What are his plans?”

  “He’ll be coming home in a week or so, then he’s leaving for an extended stay of six months in Kyoto before moving on to Osaka for an indefinite length of time. Of course, he will be staying in a suite in a hotel — the housing situation being what it is. Such tiny, cramped apartments. How do they manage?”

  “That sounds very exciting. I’ve always favored him of all the boys and now he’s grown into a capable young man.”

  “And your Matthew, isn’t the baby due soon?”

  “Oh, yes!” Elinor perked up. “The doctor says another four weeks, but you never know with babies. I hope Rachel can wait for us to get back. I’m so looking forward to it.”

  “I have to admit to being a little jealous of you, Elinor, becoming a grandmother. Carrie is still so young and John not close to being settled…” her voice trailed off.

  “I have the same problem with Emma. God knows, I’ve tried, but the girl simply refuses to become serious on any level. I don’t know what more I can do. For some time I thought she and John…”

  “I doubt that is a possibility, not after what happened last fall with him getting very nearly killed following what she started up. I hate to say this, and please don’t take it personally, but your daughter has a penchant for trouble and it worries me that she implicated John, and all of us.”

  “You are referring to your ballooning accident?”

  “It was the most terrifying thing that’s ever happened to me, never mind Carrie’s experience.”

  Elinor sighed heavily. “What can I say? I hope she will leave things alone and get on with her life in some fashion like the rest of our children have.”

  “I couldn’t agree more. I would toast to that, but I’m afraid I’d fall asleep before the glass is empty.”

  “Perhaps we ought to call it a night then.”

  The springs creaked as the two older ladies rose to their feet.

  “It was a lovely day, wasn’t it?”

  “Just splendid.” Frances agreed. “And all those fascinators. I will have to buy one when we’re back in London.”

  “With your hair, it would be a shame not to!” Their lilting laughter faded away down the corridor.

  A chill washed over Emma and clung to her skin. Ice water flowed in her veins and the glass shook in her hand. She should have let her presence be known so they wouldn’t continue their conversation, but she sat there paralyzed. She almost said something when their talk turned to John. Language lessons? Extended stay? Indefinite? When did all that happen? Her mind churned rooting for a memory of him having mentioned any of what she’d heard, but came up with nothing. The lessons explained his fluency, but he never said a word to her about moving down there. Had it slipped his mind? Relocating to another country was no small thing even if it wasn’t a permanent arrangement. Their conversations lately had been squeezed into his schedule with no time to get into anything deep. Still, he could have said something.

  Her stomach clenched at these revelations. Elinor’s disappointment of her didn’t compare. That was old news as was Frances’ insistence on her being responsible for John’s accident and everyone else’s misfortunes. Still, would it have been too much to ask that he let his parents know that a Ruskin had been to blame so they would leave her alone? Clearly, they had forgotten who ended the whole Everdon curse fiasco when she brought Ivy. Or they didn’t care.

  But what the Ruskins thought about her, and for that matter, her mother’s low estimation of her were nothing compared to the searing pain of betrayal that now tore through her. Giving her kind words and reassurances while all along he was pulling farther and farther away. All the way to freaking Japan! That began to explain her feelings of emptiness. It hadn’t been her imagination after all. She must be hopelessly pathetic or completely stupid. Possibly both. The feeling was familiar. It was how she felt when they returned home from the manor following Ivy’s disappearance. The open bar beckoned.

  Loudly.

  On the second try, she made it to her feet, and shoes in hand, she dragged herself to her room. Time had lost meaning as she sat in her dark corner reliving Elinor’s and Frances’ conversation. Back upstairs, she locked her door and the adjoining one to the shared bath and got ready for sleep. The face in the mirror was one she had hoped never to see again; puffy eyed, red-nosed, cheeks streaked with mascara and a vacuous stare. She scrubbed herself clean of the day and donned her airline PJs, and stepping over a puddle of pink chiffon, she slipped into bed and prayed for sleep. Her mind reeling, she could not form a coherent sentence. It hadn’t occurred to her to call neither John nor Rachel.

  SUNDAY

  ~*~

  Sleep claimed her at some point, but the accompanying dreams, even one of her unborn nephew negated any rest she may have derived from it and not long after, she was squinting against the morning sun. It must be early, not even children’s laughter from the garden disturbed the silence. Rolling over, Emma studied the ancient beams embedded into the ceiling. If only they could talk. No doubt hours of crying and pounding the pillow would spice up their repertoire. Since then, a profound lethargy permeated throughout her body and recollections from the night before trickled in. Could it be a bad dream? Until then, the day and evening had been rather enjoyable.

  At some point in the early hours, she hoped morning would bring a fresh perspective. Wasn’t everything supposed to be better in the morning? Whoever had come up with that was delusional or a liar. Things looked like crap and the only thing that could possibly lift her subterranean mood was a greasy breakfast washed down with a gallon of coffee.

  Her hand scrabbled over the coverlet searching for her phone. It didn’t vibrate indicating no messages had been left when her fingers closed on it. Just past seven, the LED display threatened to burn the numerals into her retinas. She winced and her mind struggled with the time difference — mid-afternoon in stinking Kobe, lunchtime in Boston. The phone dropped to the coverlet. A hot shower beckoned. When in doubt, hydrotherapy always worked, and she stumbled into the bathroom reaching to lock the connecting door, but discovered it still locked. Oops! Guess mom didn’t need to get up during the night or she would have been knocking. She stripped and turned the taps in the modern glass shower enclosure. Thank God for that! Climbing in and out of an ancient claw-footed tub would have spelled the end for her. Her hand s
wiped away the gathering steam, and the mirror confirmed she looked worse than she felt, which was saying something. Whatever. It’s not like any Langstones or Ruskins or Hyde-Smythes would be about at this early hour to give her looks, she mused brushing her teeth. And God forbid Adam Kinsley caught sight of her, providing he was still around.

  A good scrub-down left her flushed and refreshed. She wiped down the excess moisture on the mirror and vanity, and remembering to unlock the door, she returned to her room. Everyone was leaving in a few hours, she with mum back to the city. Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, she scooped up her dress from the floor and crammed it into the bag. It may as well be used as a lampshade for all she cared. The leather, however, still earned her respect, and she folded the jacket neatly aside. She eyed the phone, loath to feel it vibrate, but she had to pick it up to stash it into her purse or leave it behind. The device remained still in her grasp and she dropped it in. She hadn’t expected any calls nor messages, so why the disappointment? Maybe she was becoming delusional.

  Dragging herself downstairs, she loaded up on sausages and eggs at the breakfast buffet and parked herself at the farthest table. The few others who had ventured down were heavily into coffee and quiet conversation. Emma had nothing yet to say to anyone and kept her head down and focused on her plate. The waiter or butler or whoever the young man was had left a carafe of coffee on her table. If he thought her wearing sunglasses was strange, his manner gave nothing away. He would have done well at an Everdon Weekend.

  A clock chimed the entire Westminster Chimes tune and dinged nine times. More people filed into the dining hall, all smiling and reliving the previous night of revelry. Draining the last of her coffee, Emma stood to leave.

  “Ah, you are here!”

  “Morning, mum.” She uttered her first words of the day.

  “Already finished your breakfast? No, don’t stay on my behalf, I’m meeting the Ruskins. And in the future, please switch on the exhaust fan and not leave the bathroom a swamp.”

  “Sorry, mum.”

  “Well, never mind that. We’ll be leaving soon. The driver will come by at eleven to take us to the Ritz.”

  “I’m not going back with you.” She heard herself say.

  Elinor’s pencilled eyebrows arched. “Oh? Have the Hyde-Smythes invited you to stay for an extended visit? I didn’t realize you had become close.”

  Emma bit back a tart response and marvelled at her restraint. She must still be in shock from her recent discoveries.

  “I want to do some sight-seeing here.”

  “I see. All right. You’re an adult. I can’t stop you from doing what you want.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Just be back by Wednesday afternoon at the latest. Our flight is on Thursday morning.”

  “I remember.”

  Elinor seemed to notice her sunglasses for the first time. Her lips pursed.

  “I hope you didn’t overdo the drinking last night. I’d rather not have you slipping back into your old ways. Really, I don’t think I can continue to worry about you so much.”

  “Then don’t. I’m an adult. It’s my life. I’m sorry you feel that way, but I can take care of myself.”

  Elinor’s eyes assessed her from head to foot. Her expression said, we’ll see about that. “Have it your way, Emma. Just please, be back in time.”

  “I will.”

  Giving her a nod, Elinor turned toward her table where the Ruskins waited, Frances observing their interaction with interest.

  And you enjoy yourself too, mum, Emma thought bitterly as she took a wide berth around the others. If Grace had come down, or Robert she didn’t notice rushing out of the room and made it as far as her corridor before the first tears escaped. Slamming the door behind her, she dropped to the mattress with a bounce. Damn! She had not intended to get into it with mum, nor had she planned the words that came out of her mouth. Now she had to find something to do. The truth was, there was no one under this roof with the possible exception of the nice young man who had brought her the coffee whom she wanted to see.

  Almost nine-thirty; dinnertime in Japan, afternoon at Rachel’s. Her laptop was in the bag, but she didn’t want anyone seeing her like this. Before losing her nerve, she yanked out her phone and tapped a message.

  - Ohayou

  Probably good morning in freaking Japanese! - Hi

  A sudden anger gripped her.

  - How was the wedding? Bet you stunned everybody with your dress

  Ha! She was the one who was stunned! - Nice. Lots of guests. String quartet

  - Did you dance the night away?

  - Almost

  - You must be tired

  You have no idea. - A bit. You?

  - Big dinner but quiet today. Maybe do sightseeing

  Emma stared at the display struggling to maintain a conversation that until now had been effortless. Fun. Her chest ached.

  - You ok?

  How to answer that? - Why didn’t you tell me you’re going back?

  - What do you mean?

  Really? - To Japan

  - Who told you?

  - Your mother

  A pause. Then,

  - She had no right

  Too late for that! - For six months! — No wonder you took lessons — She blames me for everything — You never told her about Victoria — They think all my fault!

  The phone pinged at some point as he tried to get a text through, but Emma was on a roll, tapping away, wondering if her phone was waterproof. She wiped the screen between taps.

  Talk about getting the cold shoulder — So glad I came — Bet you’re glad to be at safe distance

  - We should talk. Can we Skype?

  - No laptop here

  - Tonight?

  - Not going back to London — Sightseeing probably until flight

  - Emma

  - Gotta go. Sayonara!

  It was the only word in Japanese she knew that wasn’t related to food.

  It took Emma two tries to disconnect the call in her trembling hands, her breath catching in shallow gasps. Is this really happening? Where was the connection they had shared not that long ago? That he didn’t remember what happened between them that weekend was one thing, but had he forgotten everything else after that too? How could he leave her behind without saying a word? Had she failed to notice they’d been growing apart these past few weeks? Her mind went over their last several conversations searching for clues that would explain how they had arrived at the end so suddenly. Not responding with, “I miss you too” had been a red flag of sorts, but nothing major. She was blindsided, derailed, confused and mad as hell. Obviously, she had missed something thinking she mattered to him more than this.

  Nor did it help to be on her own. The one person who could understand her inner turmoil was so far away. A fine line existed between intimacy and emotional dependency, and she wasn’t about to overwhelm Rachel in her present state to share her amazing news that she had a fight with John. No, Rachel didn’t need the hassle. This, she would handle on her own.

  She glared at her sneakers. Funny, mum hadn’t said a word about her fashion choice this morning — T-shirt and jeans. Whatever — she swung her feet, a nervous restlessness creeping up on her. Laughter in the corridor as cheerful guests passed by the door evoked a cringe. She didn’t want to be around happy people.

  Remembering her promise to Rachel to document her English experience, she picked up the phone, recoiling at the brief vibration as if touching a snake, and took a picture of the room then the view from the window where children scampered on the lawn before dropping it into her purse.

  The best course of action was to get herself together and leave this place, and ignoring the buzz of another call that would go unanswered, she went to the bathro
om. After a few splashes of cold water, she fixed her face to cover up the hours of damage. With a bit of luck, she would soon return to looking like herself.

  The only thing left was to decide on a plan for the rest of her day. What was there to do here? The phone vibrating again was getting on her nerves and she jammed her hand in to shut it off when something sharp imbedded itself under her fingernail.

  “Ow! Geez!” Emma yanked her hand out of the purse and sucked on her fingertip. Delicately feeling around for the offending object, she fished out the business card she had stashed in there the night before and peered at the black silhouette of the manor, the name below and Adam Kinsley’s extension. Retrieving the phone, she tapped in the number, unaware she was holding her breath while waiting. A male voice answered as Adam Kinsley.

  “Hello, Mr. Kinsley.” She began tentatively. “It’s Emma Stuart. We talked yesterday.”

  “Miss Stuart! Yes, of course I remember.” He responded with enthusiasm. ”I hope you are enjoying your stay.”

  Actually, not so much. “I was wondering if your invitation to see the manor is still open.”

  “It is, and I’d be delighted to take you on the grand tour.”

  “That’s great!” She breathed a sigh of relief. “If you’ll give me directions…” It occurred to her then she had no idea if he had gone away or stayed the night like the many other guests. Would she drive off to the manor with him and possibly his date?

  “I can do better than that. If you tell me where you are, I’ll be happy to come and get you.”

  Okay — so he had left. “I don’t want to be a bother. I’m sure you’re busy.”

  “It’s no bother at all. In fact, it would be my pleasure.”