Family Secrets: A Classic Romance

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  At her words, Ivy could feel the scrape of those work-roughened hands on her skin, and gave an involuntary shiver.

  “When he apprenticed with an architectural firm, he refused to take a cent from me, living instead in a tiny little apartment in New York with two other roommates. And when he finally started his own firm, I know he barely scraped by. But he refused to take any help from me. He’s such a proud, determined man.” Her eyes shone. “And I’m so proud of him.”

  “Who are you proud of?” Caine stood framed in the doorway. Seeing their surprise, he explained, “I knocked. But you two were so busy with girl talk, you didn’t bother to answer. So I let myself in.”

  “You seem to be an expert at that,” Ivy said.

  “At what?” Gertrude looked confused.

  “At letting myself into rooms without knocking.” He gave Ivy a dark, knowing gaze before he crossed the room and planted a warm kiss on the old woman’s cheek. “How did you sleep?”

  “At least I attempted to sleep, which is more than I can say for you.”

  Ivy felt her heart leap as she studied his craggy features, noting the dark stubble of beard he hadn’t yet bothered to shave, the red-rimmed eyes.

  “Have you had breakfast yet?” his aunt asked.

  “No. I noticed a breakfast buffet being set up in the dining room.”

  “I suspected everyone would sleep late this morning. Including the staff. So I thought a buffet would take care of everyone nicely.”

  Caine nibbled a piece of his aunt’s toast. “I’ll shave first and make myself presentable. Then I’ll join the others.”

  “Where were you off to so early in the morning?”

  His face lost all expression. “I had some errands to run.”

  “On a Sunday morning?”

  “Umm.” He finished the toast and gulped a glass of juice. “I’ll leave you two to your talk and go get cleaned up.”

  As he sauntered from the room, Ivy muttered, “Evasive.”

  “Independent,” Gertrude amended.

  “Whatever; he managed to tell us nothing.”

  “And you can bet that if that’s the way Caine wants it, that’s the way it will be.”

  Not if I can help it, Ivy thought as she bent to brush her lips across the old woman’s cheek. “Thanks for the breakfast and the conversation,” she murmured. “There was something else I wanted to tell you, but I think it can wait. I’ll see you downstairs in a little while.”

  “Ivy.” The old woman caught her hand. “Before your mother leaves today, try to talk to her.”

  “What about?”

  The blue eyes were grave. “About your life, your career, your successes, your dreams.”

  “She isn’t interested, Aunt Tru. I can’t conform to what she wants for me.”

  “She loves you, Ivy. She just doesn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Odd. I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Oh, Ivy. Don’t wait until it’s too late.”

  “Aunt Tru,” Ivy said patiently. “Maybe, like you, there’s a touch of the rebel in me. I can’t live up to her image of the perfect daughter.”

  “At least try to make peace.”

  Ivy stared at the hand which held hers. “At what price?”

  “Just try. It will be worth a great deal to you one day.”

  Ivy nodded. “I suppose one more attempt won’t hurt.”

  The old woman squeezed her hand. “Good.”

  As she made her way to her room, Ivy wondered about Gertrude’s determination to make peace between a mother and daughter. Maybe regrets were the hardest things of all to live with.

  Chapter Nine

  It was one of those perfect spring mornings. The sky was a cloudless blue. A gentle breeze carried the intoxicating scent of early lilacs. Ivy shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun and watched a pair of ducks make a lazy circle in the air, then land effortlessly on the smooth water of the pond.

  Leaving the flagstone path, she veered into the wooded area behind the pond. The secluded woods were alive with sound. Birds chirped. Frogs croaked. Insects hummed. Shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans, Ivy filled her mind with the sights and sounds of the place. She might never get another chance like this, to explore this wonderful old estate that owned her heart.

  She bent to examine a tiny blue flower and wished she’d brought her sketch pad. Straightening, she turned back toward the house.

  As she emerged from the woods, she spotted a movement on the upstairs balcony of the house. Something fluttered in the breeze. Probably a maid shaking a rug, she thought.

  As she circled the pond, she continued to stare, trying to make out what the figure was doing. By the time she was close enough to see clearly, it had disappeared. The balcony was empty.

  Ivy quickened her pace. The long walk had sharpened her appetite. She was looking forward to a hearty breakfast.

  As she paused in the doorway of the dining room, Ivy noted that only Caine and Gertrude were downstairs ahead of her. They were seated on a small love seat in front of French doors that opened onto a lovely terrace. Their heads bent closely together, they were engaged in earnest conversation.

  “... leaving today. I’m willing to bet that before lunch, our letter writer will make a move.”

  Caine’s head came up sharply, as if sensing Ivy’s presence.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

  “It’s all right, child. Come in.”

  Ivy crossed the room to stand in front of them. “You’re not going to pay the money, are you?”

  The old woman smiled gently. “I couldn’t possibly come up with that kind of cash.”

  Ivy let out a long sigh of relief.

  “Of course, if they’re willing to take jewelry, stocks, bonds, I could probably manage.”

  “Aunt Tru.”

  The old woman leaned forward to pat her hand reassuringly. “I’m only thinking out loud. I have no intention of giving in to blackmail.”

  “Then you’ve called the police?”

  Gertrude glanced at Caine. “I don’t think this is a matter for the police. I think this can be handled without them.”

  Ivy swallowed. “Aunt Tru, there’s something I think you should know. Last night, I had a visitor.”

  Caine stood and touched her shoulder. To his aunt, he said, “Your guests are arriving for breakfast.”

  “Good, I’m ready for something a bit more solid myself.” Gertrude took Caine’s hand and stood. Squeezing Ivy’s arm as she moved past her, she whispered, “We’ll talk later, child.”

  Jacob was the first to arrive, leaning heavily on the arm of his grandson. The old man looked dapper in a dark suit, crisp white shirt and bright silk tie and handkerchief in his breast pocket.

  His grandson wore a dark suit as well. His only concession to the casual mood of the morning was the lack of a tie.

  Watching them, Ivy thought that the only thing missing were their briefcases.

  David’s eyes lit up at the sight of Ivy.

  “You will go riding with me today, won’t you?”

  “We’d have to go right after breakfast. I’d like to get an early start back to New York.”

  Jacob’s head came up as he accepted a cup of coffee from a maid. “Where are you two going?”

  “I wanted to show Ivy some of the countryside before she left.”

  “And just what did you intend to drive?”

  Ivy saw the slight flush that stained David’s cheeks.

  “David said you drove up here in an Excalibur, Judge Tisdale. I’ve never seen one before. So, he generously offered to take me for a ride.”

  “Did he now?” The old man’s eyes met his grandson’s. “That’s a very expensive piece of machinery.”

  “I doubt there’s much traffic on a day like this,” Ivy said quickly.

  The old man considered. “Yes. I suppose you’re right. Why not? Enjoy the day while you can, David.”

  The young man
flashed a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

  Across the room, Ivy felt Caine’s dark eyes boring into hen She tried to ignore the stab of regret. She hadn’t wanted to spend any time with David Tisdale. But she resented the way his grandfather controlled him.

  Caine watched David smiling down into Ivy’s face. His eyes narrowed a fraction. Her lips were upturned and slightly parted. Her eyes when she laughed were the green of the sea. He could smell the fragrance of her delicate perfume. David touched her arm and whispered something. Caine’s hands tightened at his sides. He was jealous. It was a feeling that was almost alien to him. What had this woman done to him? He was a man who always kept his emotions in check. During the short time he’d been with Ivy, he had experienced fury, desire, jealousy, and one thing he was afraid to even allow himself to give a name to—love.

  The thought was so shocking he could only stand numbly and stare at the woman who had stolen his heart. No other woman would every satisfy him now. He wanted her. Wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Love. The thought left him stunned and shaken.

  Diana entered the dining room wearing white linen slacks and a peach silk shirt, with a mandarin collar and long, pleated sleeves. With her blond hair and tiny figure, the pastels made her look like a dainty confection.

  In sharp contrast, Ivy studied her own faded jeans and simple cotton shirt, unaware of how they flattered her long legs and slender, youthful figure. She knew only that her mother would be appalled at her careless disregard for appearance.

  Darren was the last to arrive for breakfast. He looked slightly better than he had the night before. Wearking khaki pants, a crew-neck cotton sweater and a pair of Italian leather loafers without socks, he still managed to give the impression of a playboy on the prowl. His eyes looked weary, but his smile was in place.

  “I hope everyone slept well,” Gertrude said as she filled a plate and carried it to a table on the terrace. “Like a baby,” Jacob muttered, following suit.

  The others took their time, looking over the assortment of fresh fruits, eggs and sausages, cold meats and pastries.

  On the terrace, a maid circulated, pouring coffee and juices.

  Ivy took a seat between Caine and Darren. Across the table, Diana gave a small frown of disapproval.

  “Did I understand Gertrude to say that you drove all the way up here on a motorcycle?”

  “It’s all right, Mother. I’m a very good driver.”

  “But what will you do if it rains?”

  “Pull on a rain cape.”

  “Oh, Ivy. Don’t you think you’ve carried this off-the-wall artist pose a little too far?”

  Embarrassed at the sudden silence at the table, Ivy fought to keep her voice steady. “We’ll talk about it later, Mother. I’d like to see you alone before we leave.”

  “What about?” Diana was suddenly suspicious.

  “We’ll talk, Mother. I promise. Before we leave today.”

  Ivy ducked her head and ate her breakfast in silence. Everyone, it seemed, was under a great strain this morning.

  As soon as they finished second cups of coffee, David eagerly escorted Ivy to the garage, where he proudly showed off his grandfather’s car. The low-slung bronze car, with gleaming chrome, had been carefully polished since their arrival from New York.

  David held the door. “Isn’t she a beauty?”

  “Yes.” Ivy laughed as David turned on the ignition. “Why do we refer to cars as she?”

  “Because to a collector they’re as sleek and sensuous as a beautiful woman.”

  “And are you a collector?”

  He gave her a look before starting down the long, curving driveway. “Not yet. But soon, I hope.”

  “Does your grandfather allow you to drive his cars often?”

  “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, my grandfather believes that what he has worked for is his alone. I have to prove myself before I can enjoy the fruits of his labors.”

  “How will you prove yourself?”

  Leaving the private driveway, David turned onto the highway and floored the gas pedal. The sleek car flew along the pavement. “By working long hours for no pay. By seeing to my grandfather’s every need. By dancing to the tune that he plays.”

  “He’s lucky to have you, David.”

  The car hurtled faster along an open stretch of highway. When the road curved, Ivy felt the first thrill of fear. With a laugh, David pressed down even harder on the pedal, until they were nearly flying.

  With the top down, the wind clawed at Ivy’s hair, flailing it across her face, then whipping it out behind her in a long, dark stream. David’s fine hair dipped and fell on the wind, making him appear even younger, more fragile.

  It was impossible to talk while the car sped along the highway. The words would have been torn from their mouths and carried away on the wind. Ivy’s heart raced as she watched David’s hands on the wheel of the car. Their safety, their lives, depended on him. The look on his face was one of pure joy. Ivy suddenly realized what this speed meant to him. This was freedom from his grandfather’s domination. This was control of his own life. This was release from the pressures of always having to live up to someone else’s expectations. This was David’s form of rebellion.

  As last, he slowed the car and drove at a normal speed.

  “Did you ever think about becoming a race driver?”

  David laughed. “My grandfather would never have allowed it.”

  “I think you should consider it. That was some display.”

  “Are you afraid of speed?” he asked quietly.

  “No. As a matter of fact, I like it. When I’m doing the driving.”

  “Did your mother tell you that she called me a few weeks ago?”

  Ivy’s head swiveled sharply at this unexpected twist in the conversation. “No. Why should she do that?”

  “She was looking for some of your father’s papers. Grandfather’s firm has handled all the legal work for your father’s family since they first came here.”

  Ivy felt her mouth go dry. “What kind of papers?”

  “Just some legal papers. We have copies of everything from the time your grandparents first started as tenant farmers and caretakers for Miss St. Martin’s father.”

  “Why would my mother need those papers?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask.”

  “Did you get her the papers she wanted?”

  He nodded. “Sure. It took a little digging, but I came up with them. Odd,” he said, chuckling, “all my work seems to come in bunches. The same day your mother called, Darren stopped by.”

  “I thought Darren was in California.”

  “He was, earlier. But he came up to New York for several days.”

  “Does Aunt Tru know that?”

  “I doubt it. He said he was staying with friends in New York.”

  Everyone, Ivy realized, had had a chance to mail those terrible letters from New York.

  “He just drove up to talk to me about a land deal.”

  “Land?”

  David slowed the car, then brought it to a smooth stop. Reaching out, he caught a strand of Ivy’s hair. Avoiding her eyes, he watched the way her hair lifted in the breeze. “Darren and I talked to a developer about his aunt’s property. It seems they’d be willing to pay a fortune to develop her land into a subdivision. That’s prime land she’s living on.”

  “Aunt Tru would never sell.”

  David ran a hand along Ivy’s arm, feeling the slight chill from the rush of cold air. “That’s what I found out when I approached her about the deal.”

  She let out a long sigh. “So you’ve given up on the idea.”

  “For the time being. Of course, she can’t live forever. But in the meantime, there are other ways to make a dollar.” He lifted his arm to the back of the seat. “Slide over here and I’ll keep you warm.”

  “No. I’m fine.” She glanced at her watch, wishing she’d never agreed to this outing.
“We’d better get back, David. I still have to pack.”

  “I’m going to be coming up to the city soon, Ivy. And when I do, I’d like to see you.”

  She should have known where this would lead. Trying for a note of enthusiasm, she said, “That would be nice, David. Give me a call.”

  “Caine St. Martin isn’t the only man who has achieved success, Ivy. I intend to be very wealthy. I could show you a good time.”

  She blushed, remembering that David had seen her in Caine’s bedroom.

  Something clicked in her mind. “How are you planning to earn all this money?” Her heart nearly stopped, waiting for his reply.

  “I have plans, Ivy. A lawyer learns a lot of things about his client’s business.”

  The band around her heart tightened. “Let’s go back now. Please.”

  “You will let me see you in New York?”

  She swallowed. “Just give me a call.”

  He smiled, glanced at his watch, then started the car. Within minutes, they were at the private driveway leading to the St. Martin estate. As soon as she could politely get away, Ivy fled up the stairs. Outside Gertrude’s room, she knocked.

  “Come in.”

  “Aunt Tru. We have to talk.”

  “Not now, Ivy.” The old woman’s voice quavered. “The rendezvous is set. The note was under my door after breakfast. I’m to leave the money at the gardener’s cottage. The note said I’ll be watched. I’m to go alone. When the money is delivered, I’m to return to my room. The blackmailer promised a packet of documents and information about my past, some of which I have kept secret for a lifetime, and some of which I apparently never knew.”

  “You said you didn’t have that kind of cash here in the house.”

  “I don’t. Caine knew how distraught I was. He went to our banker this morning. He drew up a cashier’s check for one hundred thousand dollars. Anyone can cash it at any bank.”