Family Secrets: A Classic Romance

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  At her soothing tone, he looked repentant. While he sat beside her, Ivy walked to the bar, where she set down her glass. Then she crossed to the window to look up at the stars that were just becoming visible in the slowly darkening night sky. Caine took her glass, refilled it and stood beside her.

  “Thank you.”

  The scent of her perfume was intoxicating. Caine found himself drawn to her.

  For once she was grateful for Caine’s silence. She didn’t want to make small talk. She wanted to sort out her thoughts. Maybe every family had to struggle through the pain of misunderstanding and bruised egos. Poor Darren. She could feel the pain he was feeling. She wondered if it were possible for a woman like Gertrude St. Martin, a spinster, a woman blessed with both good health and excellent finances, to understand what Darren was going through. And what about Caine? Was he as perfect as Darren painted him?

  Despite Darren’s problems, she was glad now she had accepted Aunt Tru’s invitation. She’d needed to return to her roots again. She’d almost forgotten how peaceful it was here. The fast pace of the city was catching up with her. Maybe that was what had happened to Darren as well. Life in the fast lane could be deadly.

  ‘Penny for them.”

  She started. “Sorry.” She turned to Caine. “I was off in space. I seem to do that a lot.”

  “Artists can get away with it. People just think you’re creating your next masterpiece in your mind.” He winked. “Architects, too. When I drift off, my staff thinks I’m designing a monument.”

  She laughed. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

  “Not at all.” He grinned. “Once in a while I am designing something. But most of the time I’m just drifting.”

  She turned to give him her full attention. “You don’t look like the sort who drifts. In anything. You’re so solid, Caine. I think you could take the whole world’s problems and charge through life solving them.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” His smile faded. “Right now, though, I’d settle for solving just one or two problems.”

  Ivy glanced at the old woman, her head bent toward the blond one beside her on the sofa. “You don’t believe the doctor, do you? It wasn’t just a simple fainting spell. It was that terrible letter.”

  He stared at the amber liquid in his glass, then shrugged. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Did you notice that the letter was mailed in New York City?”

  Caine’s lips thinned. He remained silent.

  “Why won’t you talk about it?” she asked.

  “Because it has nothing to do with you, Ivy. Unless you wrote it.”

  She turned away, stung by his words. Every time she thought they were beginning to relax with each other, something happened to remind her to keep her distance. Chester’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and the conversation around her stopped as everyone looked up.

  “Miss St. Martin, Judge Jacob Tisdale and Mr. David Tisdale.”

  A young man in a dark business suit stepped past Chester, then paused in the doorway. Beside him, leaning heavily on a cane, stood an old man with white hair and a trim, white mustache.

  “Ah. Jacob and David. I wondered what’s been keeping you,” Gertrude exclaimed, welcoming the newcomers.

  The younger man hurried across the room to catch Gertrude’s hand. “Miss St. Martin. I’m sorry for the delay. I’m afraid I’ve been on the phone for hours. Every time I leave my office, they track me down. I’ve been swamped with work.”

  The older man followed slowly. With elegant, old-fashioned manners, he bowed slightly and touched Gertrude’s hand to his lips before settling down heavily beside her on the sofa.

  “I think you know everyone here except Ivy.” Gertrude turned. “Ivy, come meet Judge Jacob Tisdale, and his grandson, David Tisdale, my lawyer.”

  The younger man was lean to the point of being frail. His double-breasted pin-striped suit accentuated his thin frame. His hair was light, but lacked the golden luster of Darren’s. With his fair complexion, his blond eyebrows seemed almost nonexistent.

  Ivy extended her hand, and stared into pale blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. His smile was pleasant, his handshake firm.

  “Hello, David. Though we’ve never met, I’m familiar with your family name.”

  “And I’ve heard of you as well. Our families go back a long way. You probably know my grandfather.” He indicated the older man beside Gertrude.

  Ivy turned and accepted Jacob’s outstretched hand.

  The old man studied her carefully, as if searching for some sign of recognition. “William and Diana’s daughter?”

  She nodded.

  “The artist,” he said simply.

  “And a fine one,” Gertrude interjected proudly. “You should have read her reviews, Jacob.”

  “I did. You showed them to me three times, Gertrude.”

  Ivy blushed with pleasure and noticed Caine watching her as he poured drinks at the bar. She turned her attention back to Jacob’s grandson.

  “It’s nice that you can work with your grandfather.”

  “It’s been taken for granted that I’d go in the family law firm ever since I was born. I’m the fourth generation to go into law in this county,” David said.

  His eyes, Ivy noted, didn’t look happy.

  “And Ivy is the third generation to grow up on the St. Martin estate,” Gertrude explained with a smile.

  “I know.” David seemed mesmerized by her beauty. His pale eyes studied her with keen interest. “Your father had quite a green thumb.”

  “He was the St. Martin gardener. We lived in the cottage, by the gate house.”

  He nodded. “I know of it. It’s been empty for quite a while, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes. I’m living in New York City now.”

  “You must find it chaotic after living here.”

  She saw Caine watching her and smiled. “I’ve adjusted.”

  David looked hopeful. “Maybe I could show you around while you’re visiting Miss St. Martin.”

  She avoided Caine’s mocking eyes as he handed David a drink. “Thank you. I’d like that.”

  Ivy was aware that the older man was studying her carefully while she spoke. He seemed intrigued by her. She turned to include him in the conversation. To her discomfort, he continued to stare in silence.

  “I’m sorry I was out walking when you arrived, Jacob,” Gertrude said, interrupting his thoughts. “I understand you’ve been in New York City.”

  He nodded. “Damnable trip. I prefer to stay here as much as I can, but business often dictates otherwise.”

  “I thought you had finally agreed to retire and allow David to run the business.”

  He sighed. “More or less. But there are still so many things I’ve handled for years for my clients, and I feel reluctant to allow young David to take over.”

  “Including the finances,” Gertrude said knowingly.

  Ivy smiled at his phrase “young David.” Did the old ever allow the young to feel completely in charge?

  Gertrude stood, and the older man rose with her. She looped her arm through Jacob Tisdale’s. “You look refreshed. Did you sleep?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, it’s time for dinner. You can sit beside me and tell me all about what’s been happening in the big city.”

  With a broad smile, he escorted her to the dining room.

  Darren and David Tisdale trailed behind them, carrying on a muted conversation.

  Ivy glanced at Caine. “Maybe we should start a romance between your aunt and her counselor. Don’t you think they make a lovely couple?”

  He gave her a bland look and offered her his arm. “I don’t think Trudy is the marrying kind. None of the St. Martins are. But the Tisdales, on the other hand, are very big on marriage.”

  She stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I got the impression that young Tisdale would like to start something with you.”

  He
saw the flash of fire in her eyes. “Don’t be silly. We were simply making small talk.”

  “You didn’t see David’s heart? It was right there on his sleeve.”

  “Stop teasing, Caine.”

  He paused, feeling the touch of silk against his arm. “You’ve managed to enchant every man in the room, and you claim not to have noticed. Not too sharp, Weed.”

  He stared down at her, loving the way she blushed when she was angry. “Come on. Let’s join the others for dinner.”

  With a laugh, she tucked her hand in his arm. “You’ve managed to distract me for the time being. You just said the magic word. Food. I’m famished.”

  He felt the warmth of her touch and turned his face to inhale the fragrance that lingered, even in her hair.

  “Good. I like a woman with a healthy appetite.”

  “Mine’s beyond healthy. It’s absolutely disgusting.”

  He gave his best imitation of a leer. “That’s even better.”

  Chapter Three

  The dinner had been one of Gertrude’s famous seven-course affairs. Long before dessert, Ivy felt uncomfortably full and yearned for a chance to walk off her meal. But her aunt lingered at the table, enjoying her odd assortment of company and their engaging conversation.

  Afterward they retired to the library, where Aunt Tru had insisted on two more glasses of her favorite beverage before bidding everyone good-night and leaning heavily on Caine’s arm as she made her way upstairs. The others followed.

  At a light tap on her door, Ivy opened it to find Chester standing on the threshold.

  Caine, emerging from his aunt’s room, remained in the shadows, listening.

  “You wanted to see me after hours, Miss Ivy?”

  She forced herself not to laugh at his stiff demeanor. Chester took his position as butler and head of the household staff very seriously.

  “Yes. I wanted to thank you for the help you gave me in that little matter.”

  “You’re welcome. But please don’t ever ask me again. It meant invading Miss St. Martin’s private quarters. If she knew I’d gone into her personal papers, she’d have my hide.”

  “I’m sorry, Chester. I hated to make you an accomplice, but I had no choice. Thank you again.” The old man turned away.

  Caine waited until he heard Chester’s footsteps recede and Ivy’s door click shut. His eyes were dark, angry slits. That scatterbrained act was all a cover to hide her real intentions. But why? What did she hope to gain?

  Grateful for the night’s silence, Ivy slipped off the silk dress and tugged on her old jeans and boots. Shivering in the chill air, she pulled on an oversize sweater. Tucking her hair under a cap, she tossed her leather jacket over her shoulder and made her way quietly down the stairs and out the front door.

  A full moon glimmered between layers of slowly drifting clouds. The air was sweet with the fragrance of dogwood and forsythia. The pungent odor of freshly turned earth brought back all those happy memories of her father’s years here, taking such delight in his work.

  By the light of the moon, Ivy made her way down the long driveway, then veered sharply left to follow the sloping curve of the pond.

  Digging her hands into her pockets, she stood by the water’s edge and listened to the gentle splash of a frog, startled by her presence. The moon became swallowed up by clouds, leaving her in darkness.

  Somewhere to her left, an owl hooted. She heard the snap of a twig and turned, trying to get her bearings. The hair on the back of her neck lifted. Her skin felt suddenly cold, damp. She sensed that she was not alone.

  In the blackness of night, a rough hand gripped her arm and spun her around. Before she could react, a hand covered her mouth, stifling her scream.

  Her eyes widened. Robbery? Rape? What was happening to her? The pressure remained over her mouth, as she was shoved roughly against the trunk of a tree.

  Adrenaline pumped heat through her veins. With all her might, she strained against the arms that held her. She heard a man’s grunt as she kicked and thrashed. Her attacker only tightened his grip. She felt strong thighs pressing her against the tree.

  Caine’s deep voice sent shivers of ice along her spine. “I’ll take my hand away if you promise not to scream.”

  She blinked, nodded.

  When he dropped his hand, she took in great gulps of air. Relief flooded through her, leaving her feeling light-headed. Finally catching her breath, she sputtered, “Are you crazy? What’s the matter with you?”

  At the sound of her voice, he unleashed a stream of curses. “What are you doing out at this time of night?”

  “Walking off my dinner.”

  “In that getup?”

  The moon broke free of cloud cover, bathing them in golden light.

  She was furious and shaken by his unexpected attack. With venom she sputtered, “What’s wrong with my clothes now?”

  He stared pointedly at the hat, which left the upper part of her face in shadow. “Nothing’s wrong with them. Except that there was no way of telling who you were. You could have been a thief breaking into the estate.”

  “Oh.” She gave a wry smile and peeled off her hat. “There. Is that better?”

  Free, her dark hair tumbled wildly about her face and shoulders. At the sight of her, something tightened deep inside him.

  “Much better.” Without thinking, Caine reached out and caught a silken strand, allowing it to sift through his fingers. His eyes narrowed. It was as soft as he had imagined it would be. Gradually he readjusted his thinking. He should have known the shadowy figure was a woman. He could still feel her softness beneath the bulky clothes. Heat swept through him. “You shouldn’t walk alone out here. It isn’t safe.”

  “I’ve been alone in New York City for seven years now. And I’ve managed to survive nicely without having anyone hold my hand.”

  His voice lowered ominously. “I wasn’t offering to hold your hand.”

  His gaze swept her face. If it was possible, she was even lovelier in moonlight. Her hair shimmered, dark and lustrous, touched with red-gold. Her eyes, wide and luminous, gleamed like a cat’s in the moon glow. And her lips, full, parted, held the tempting promise of pleasure.

  She ran a tongue over lips gone suddenly dry. “I’d better get back.” Her sultry voice whispered over his nerves.

  Caine knew he should turn away now, before this went any further. Even without touching her more intimately, he thought he knew what her body would feel like pressed to his.

  A gentle spring breeze ruffled her hair. He reached a fingertip to it. And just as naturally, his other hand lifted, until without a thought to where it would lead, he plunged his hands into her hair and drew her face to his.

  Ivy shivered. Her heart hammered in her chest. It wasn’t fear, she knew. It was the nearness of this man. It was the excitement, the anticipation, the expectancy.

  She lifted wide eyes to his. His lips brushed hers with a feather-light softness she hadn’t expected. Her lids fluttered, then closed, as his mouth covered hers. Excitement surged, hot searing, shocking them both with its intensity.

  He had known she would feel like this in his arms. She was soft, melting into him as the kiss deepened.

  Her scent, that sweet gentle fragrance of flowers, mingled with the taste of her. He was drowning in her.

  His arms came around her to mold her to him. He pulled her closer, closer, until her breasts were crushed to his hard chest. With each shuddering breath, they tormented him. All thought, all his being, were focused on this kiss, on the taste of her.

  A loon cried in the night. Caine surfaced and reluctantly lifted his head. Through lowered lids he watched as she struggled for control.

  “Caine, I...”

  “Yes. I know. We’d better go back to the house.”

  She felt hollow, empty, as if, tasting his lips, she needed more. She wondered if her legs could support her.

  His tight voice became a raw whisper, sending a tremor along her spine. “You k
now this isn’t over yet.”

  “What isn’t?” Her eyebrow arched in a question. She laughed. “The weekend or the kiss?”

  “Neither. In fact, they’ve only begun.” Without warning he pulled her roughly into his arms and brought his mouth down hard on hers.

  Instantly the passion flared. As his mouth moved over hers, his hand roamed her back, drawing her firmly against him.

  Stunned, Ivy offered no resistance. Slowly, caught up in the moment, her lips parted and her tongue met his, teasing, touching. She drank in the warm, dark taste of him and felt a little moan rise in her throat. As her hand clutched the front of his jacket, she heard his breath quicken, and felt the thundering of his heartbeat matching hers.

  The hands at her back tightened, crushing her against him, until she thought she’d break. Her hands moved along his upper arms, across his shoulders, until they tangled in his thick, dark hair. Still the kiss deepened until all conscious thought fled. There was only this moment, suspended in time, and the feelings that flowed between them. They were alone in the universe. Straining for breath in the midnight blackness, brilliant lights flashed in her brain, blinding her to everything except this man.

  “Caine.” The word was a strangled cry.

  With a supreme effort, Caine pulled himself back from the passion that clouded his mind. He lifted his head and studied her.

  Pressing her hands against his chest, she took a step back and tried to calm her rapid breathing.

  For long moments neither of them spoke. Finally, when she had composed herself, Ivy whispered, “I’m going back.”

  “Can you find your way in the dark?”

  She met his look. “I found my way here, didn’t I?”

  He watched as she took a halting step away. Catching her arm, he cautioned, “Watch out for half-hidden rocks. They can trip you up in the darkness.”

  He felt her tremble as he touched her arm. Instantly he dropped his hand, unwilling to admit the jolt he felt each time he touched her.

  “There’ve been plenty of rocks in my path, Caine. None of them have managed to trip me up.” She was already hurrying away, as if eager to escape him.

  “There’s always a first time.” I’m going to trip you up, lady. Whatever your scheme is, I’m going to be here to catch you.