Guarding the Treasure

by J. K. Zimmer

  Her eyes widened with question. “What type of gathering, Sean? You know I have never been to gatherings that were not in this house.”

  Sean poured another cup of the black drink, hastily downing it before he spoke. “It is a meeting with potential customers and a few men I do business with at the present.”

  Anya’s voice faltered. “Then why do you need me with you, dear brother? I know nothing of your business dealings, so how can I possibly be of help to you?” she pleaded. “Besides, you have plenty of women friends you can put on your arm, so do not use me unnecessarily.”

  His lips tipped up into a casual smile as he turned from her. “Anya,” he said, running his hands back through his hair. “You will know soon enough my plans for you, so in the time you wait, you must do all that I say.” He turned and held his hands out to her.

  She took his hands in reluctant obedience, looking at the person she thought was her brother, but he was away in the head and stupid with pride. Feared gripped her mind—she did not want to be the tool her brother used to carry out his sinister plans, whatever they may be.

  “Miss,” Colleen said, walking up the garden path as fast as her feet would carry her. “I happened to see you as I entered the front gate. What are you doing out here so early in the morning?”

  Anya noticed a look of concern had replaced Colleen’s usual soft features.

  “And you are still in your bedclothes?”

  Anya eyed her once again with a feeling she could not explain. What could she tell Colleen about Sean and the gathering she had been ordered to attend? She sat silent, too deep in thought to search for words.

  “Miss, there is something troubling you, I can see it on your face. Possibly when your father rises for the morning meal, you can speak to him about your troubles.”

  “He’s not coming for the morning meal,” she said, her words quiet with lack of expression. “He sailed yesterday.” Her lips continued to move, but no sound escaped them.

  Colleen stood, considering her words. “Ah, I see. Come with me, Miss. That is, if you would. Sit with me in the kitchen while I make up some buns and wet some tea.”

  Anya’s brows perked. “The kitchen?” she rarely entered the kitchen—it was a place for the help.

  Colleen recognized her surprise. “Your mother sat with me often, Miss,” she said, urging her with her hands. Anya agreed and walked alongside the young servant woman.

  Anya watched as Colleen skillfully floured a board and kneaded the soft cream-colored dough. “How did you learn to bake and cook as you do, Colleen?” Anya asked, sipping a small cup of black tea.

  “My mother,” Colleen said, smiling as she pushed the dough flat to the board. “She works for a lovely family in town, and before I was hired by Mrs. O’Connell, I would go with her each day and do just as you are—I watched.”

  Colleen gathered the dough and pulled it into three large sections.

  “Sean has requested I go to a gathering with him tonight.” Anya’s eyes followed the skillful hands of the servant. She swallowed hard. “I am fearful, Colleen,” she confided, now looking into the face of the young woman who was partly in charge of her. Anya now realized her feelings for the servant. It was as if she were a Mother or perhaps an older sister. Either way, she was someone to guide her.

  Colleen didn’t look up or say a word, but continued to separate the dough into small balls, placing them in round pans. Each pan was then draped with cheesecloth and positioned near the heat of the cooking stove.

  “More tea, Miss?” she asked softly.

  “Yes.”

  Colleen poured the tea then sat down near Anya at the servants’ table. “Sean is in charge of you while your father is absent, aye?”

  Anya nodded her head.

  Stillness filled Colleen’s heart as she looked at the young woman. Once again, she was pained, not knowing what to say. She knew Miss O’Connell dare not disobey her brother, but also knew that, if the night’s course of events unfolded as she suspected they might, it would not be a pleasurable evening for the young woman. There would be too much Guinness and men forgetting their manners.

  “Has Mr. O’Connell told you what he would like you to wear for the gathering, Miss?”

  Anya’s face fell into a wrinkle, “Colleen that is a strange question to ask of me. Unless you know something about these gatherings that I do not. Tell me what you know. I insist on it.”

  “Miss, I have had little experience at these gatherings but know that not all men are perfect gentlemen whether they have Guinness in them or not. I do know that many of the women who attend flaunt themselves, and the attire they wear tells much about their intentions. I pray, Miss O’Connell that your brother does not expect you to act in such a way.”

  Anya felt a thread of alarm enter her mind. She stood to make her way to the dining room. “Come now, Colleen, we have had gatherings in this house and no such display took place.”

  Colleen followed close behind the young woman. “Your words are true, but your mother and father were present and would not allow such behavior.”

  Colleen looked away to hide the grim feeling in her chest that she feared had made its way to her face. “Please be aware tonight, Miss.”

  Anya turned, and she saw grievous fear steal across the face of the young servant. “I will, Colleen, I will.”

  Anya stood to observe her reflection in the mirror. The black dress fit her small waist tightly, showing off her figure. The short puffed sleeves were perfect for the warm evening, and the scoop neckline was not so low as to make her look like a bar girl. She smiled at the image in the mirror.

  “Mother, I think you would be very pleased with this dress,” she said, as if her dear departed parent was about the room. She tied a small string of pearls around her neck and touched the long blonde curls that hung loosely on her shoulders.

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the hurried sound of her brother. “Little lass, are you ready to go?”

  No, she thought, her smile fading. She would never be ready to go with her brother, but there was no choice. Anya turned from the mirror. She had to be submissive. She stepped lightly down the stairs to join Sean near the door. Anya could feel his gaze burning through her as she faced him. “So brother, what do you think?” she asked without a true smile.

  Sean’s thoughts ran wild as he touched the pearls around her neck, his fingers caressing her skin at the same time. “I am feasting on you with my eyes just as I know every man in the house will be doing tonight.”

  He put his hands on her waist and pulled her close to him. “You look perfect, little one,” he said, kissing her forehead. His lips traveled to the side of her face near her ear. “And tonight you are going to play a little game,” he whispered, his hot breath lingering, almost burning her skin.

  “Sean, I don’t want—”

  He cut her off sharply. “It matters not what you want—it’s what you will do,” he said firmly. “Now listen to me and listen closely,” he said, his eyes darkening. “I am going to introduce you to a very influential businessman from France, and you are going to spend some time with him tonight.”

  “What do you mean by time, brother, and how will that be a game?”

  His smile became raw as he looked into her large green eyes. He loved the thought of her innocence. Mother had done a fine job of keeping her from being promiscuous, as many of the other young women her age were. She would serve his plan perfectly, and by the end of the night, he would have the business deal in hand that would help him surpass his father’s financial empire.

  “Your questions will be answered as the evening goes on. All you need to do is be just as beautiful as you are right now and leave the rest to my thinking.” Sean laughed under his breath as he gently took his sister by the hand.

  “Good evening, Sean,” Aedan said, looking past him to Anya, who followed behind. Aedan complimented her with his eyes as he spoke. “Anya, you look absolutely beautiful tonight. All of twenty-one no
w, aye?” he asked, his eyes surveying her shapeliness.

  She gave him a sweet smile. “No, still eighteen, but my brother treats me as if I’m no more than ten,” she said, pressing her lips together and folding her arms in front of her. “But thank you, Aedan,” she said, returning her gaze back to her host. “You are very kind.”

  She had always enjoyed Aedan’s sense of humor but wasn’t allowed near him for any length of time. Mother said his influence would be in poor taste, and perhaps so. There were times she wondered how Aedan could be such good friends with her brother. They did not think the same, nor haunt the same places. Aedan was the perfect gentleman and had never stepped out of line with her as long as she had known him.

  Sean cut into their light chatting. “Is Mr. Dubois here yet?” he asked, giving his cloak to his friend.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, he arrived about twenty minutes ago. He asked about you as well. Seemed quite eager, he did.”

  Sean let the locked air from his lungs out audibly and bared his teeth in a wide smile, “I bet he is, my friend, about as eager as I.” His smile melted into obscurity. He reached for Anya’s hand and lightly kissed it then met her eyes. “You are going to have a memorable night, little one,” he said, looking at her after his second kiss. “Just remember—do everything you’re told. And as for your words to Aedan, know this Anya, I am well aware of your age, and it will be put to good use.” His eyes pierced hers as he kissed her forehead. “Now let us play the game.”

  Chapter Five

  Sophie

  Sophie relished in the quietness of the university campus. Summer classes didn’t start for another two weeks, and her plan not to teach set her mind at ease, allowing an unusual calmness to settle in. She opened the door to her office, first glancing at the marks on her calendar. It had been three weeks since she had sent an e-mail in response to Professor Smith’s post. Why hadn’t he responded? She really wanted to dig into the diary but needed help reading it accurately. Maybe I should try to contact someone else, she thought, pushing the button to boot up her computer. Then Kevin’s words filled her mind. “I have a friend in New York that would be happy to interpret the diary, and besides, she owes me one.” She leaned back in her chair remembering how he had bent down, getting much too close for an answer. And that sultry look of his—it alone brought a smile as well as the thought of their time together after dinner a few weeks ago. He’d jumped out of the car, ran to open the door for her, and then just stood looking at her with those expectant eyes, the same look she’d gotten from Jeffrey most Friday nights. She shouldn’t have laughed. It had been obvious from the puzzled look on his face that it threw him, and she even wondered if she’d hurt his feelings. But hat thought had been dismissed after he asked if she was in the mood to research some of the entries in the diary.

  Sophie’s attention was brought back to her work by a message in her inbox. It was a response from Professor Smith. She nervously clicked to open it.

  “Ms. Hanes, I would be delighted to look at the diary in your possession. It sounds like a perfect document for my research. I would like to get started as quickly as possible. Please follow the instructions below as to how we will communicate. Also, you had made a comment about visiting our lovely Ireland in the near future. If your plans come to fruition, please allow me to be your host. It would bring me great delight to visit with a young professor from America. Your stay would be one to remember, Sincerely, Professor Kian Smith.”

  Sophie touched her cheeks. Her face flushed at such a wonderful invitation, not to mention the fact that the professor was going to do the work she had requested.

  “It looks like I won’t need your services after all Mr. Gates,” she said, rereading the e-mail. She would begin to fax pages to the professor as soon as she got home.

  “I think I’ll call Kevin and give him the good news.” Too late, her phone rang in mid-thought. She checked the number—K. Gates. Sophie smiled as she pushed talk. “Hey, I was just thinking of calling you.”

  “Great minds think alike!” His voice was laced with a light laugh. “Sophie, the reason I’m calling is I talked to my friend in New York, and she’s agreed to read and rewrite the diary for you. Are you interested?”

  “That’s so funny, I just received word that Professor Smith is anxious to start going through the diary himself, and Kevin—get this—he’s offered to be my host if I decide to visit the country this summer. Isn’t that amazing?” The line fell oddly silent. She looked to see that they were still connected. “Kevin, are you still on the line?”

  Red flags were flying everywhere in Kevin’s mind. There were things about his last trip to Ireland he had not told Sophie about. He hadn’t told anyone except for a very few close associates why he’d traveled there and what his assignment had really been. “Yeah, I’m still here. Hey, do you have plans for dinner tonight?” he asked, sounding more serious than he’d wanted.

  She sensed an immediate mood change, but why? “No, no plans. Would you like to come over? It’s not Friday, and Jeffrey won’t be at my door,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.

  “Good, I’ll see you around six then?”

  Her eyes tapered in question. “Yes, six is fine.”

  “Okay. See you a little later.”

  She lowered the phone from her ear. Strange, I’m sure he’ll tell me what’s up this evening, she thought, her mind still pondering his abrupt reaction.

  Kevin pulled into Sophie’s drive, taking note of the area as he walked to the front door. He noticed that Jeffrey, the friendly neighbor, had pulled into his driveway just ahead of him and was leaning against his car, watching his every move. Kevin gave a wave as he walked up the steps. He made a fist and pounded hard on the front door.

  “Hey,” he yelled loudly, turning slightly to see the effect on the faithful neighbor. “I know you’re in there, so you better open up,” he smirked, trying not to blow his cover.

  Sophie swung the door open, already laughing at the sound of his voice. “Kevin, that’s not very nice,” she whispered, giving Jeffrey a neighborly wave. “He’s a good guy—he watches out for me,” she said, holding the door for him.

  Kevin looked at her, a grin still on his face. He knew what Jeffrey wanted, and if he had any brains in his head, he would have taken a few different tactics to get it. But the guy was too late now, Kevin thought, giving Jeffrey one last look as he closed the door. He wasn’t giving any guy a chance to get too close to this girl. He was going to do everything he knew how to win this beautiful college professor.

  “What’s in your hand?” Sophie asked, still laughing at the way he had messed with Jeffrey.

  “I decided we’d celebrate your diary tonight.” He pulled out a bottle of chilled white wine from the brown bag.

  “Mr. Gates, I thought you didn’t drink!” She laughed, taking the bottle to the kitchen.

  He followed close behind, admiring the view. “Usually I don’t, but this is a special occasion, and besides, I needed it to finish an undercover news article about local businesses carding for controlled substances. I paid for it myself, so I thought I’d keep it.”

  Her laugh still lingered from his antics with Jeffrey, and now this. “So how did our fair city do in complying with the law?” she asked, popping the cork and pouring a small amount into two coffee cups.

  “Tune in at ten, my dear, for the answer to that cliff-hanging question,” he said over the rim of his cup. He rarely talked about work and wanted to keep it that way. The fewer people knew, the safer they would be—at least that’s what he’d been taught and what he’d practiced for the last several years. And why talk business when he could admire how snuggly Sophie’s skirt fit over her body, and how completely gorgeous she was, top to bottom? He took another drink, swallowing slowly. His eyes, as well as his thoughts, continued to travel as she moved around the kitchen. Her eyes seemed darker tonight, and the way her hair brushed her cheeks gave a shy seductive look to her face.

  She
gets better every time I see her, he thought, wishing his hands were holding her close and his lips were pressed hard onto hers.

  “You look amazing,” he said with a whisper.

  “What did you say?”

  He cleared his throat. He needed to go in a different direction, fast. “I was thinking we could read, or at least attempt to read, from the diary tonight,” he said, tipping his cup back to get the last drop of wine.

  “What about dinner? It’s ready unless you’d like to eat later.”

  “No, now is great,” he said, taking the mitts from her. He lifted the dish from the oven and placed it on a waiting cooling rack.

  “So what can you tell me about this Professor Smith?” he asked, tossing the mitts on the counter. Kevin wanted information about this Smith guy and the trip that surrounded the diary. He wanted to know everything about her pending vacation.

  Be casual, he directed himself, and don’t be too obvious in the way you get information from her. The last thing he wanted was for Sophie to think he didn’t trust her to handle her own plans or that she was a poor judge of character in being flattered by the invitation of some unknown professor. He just wanted to do some checking, ease his mind, and make sure this would be a safe thing for her. He waited for some kind of response, but he just looked at him with those I’m not telling you anything right now eyes. He smiled. In time, Kev, in time, he told himself.

  “Dinner was wonderful, Sophie,” Kevin said, his arm brushing hers as he sat down beside her on the floor.

  “Thank you, and thanks for the wine.” She held the bottle up, exposing the bottom. “Look, we’ve almost finished it.”

  He smiled as he took the bottle from her hand. He, too, held up the tinted glass, a surprised look settling on his face.

  “You know, for two people who don’t drink, it certainly didn’t take us long to finish it,” he joked, lightly shaking the contents back and forth. “But hey, it cost less than forty bucks,” he said, trading the bottle for her hands. He bent, lightly kissing her fingertips. “Whoa,” he said, feeling his head spin. He lifted his face to meet Sophie’s. His eyebrows rose. “My thoughts are a little muddled right now,” he said, trying to blink his confusion away. “But Sophie, all I’ve been able to think about this evening is that I’m so glad to be with you. A week in New York was too long to be away.” Without another word, he leaned in and kissed her exposed neck, allowing his lips to travel, his hands following right behind to her shoulders.