And shredded me in the process. The spiral of hurt that knowledge produced gathered steam until it was a physical ache in her chest. She forced herself to take several deep breaths in an effort to ease the pressure.
“Now, since we all believe your claim will be proven to be legitimate, tell me why you’re afraid of me.”
She had to take another of those deep breaths before she could speak. “I thought I’d made it clear that I won’t be making any claims. And I’m not afraid of you.”
“You’re terrified.” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Rachel’s daughter. I don’t understand why our accepting that fact frightens you.”
“I’m not frightened,” Meggy insisted and tried to believe it. “I’m pragmatic. I’m a small town chef from a middle-class upbringing. I don’t understand the kind of existence that requires people to lie and deceive in an attempt to protect themselves. I never will. It would be best for all concerned if you’d just accept the papers I’m having drawn up and my word that I won’t make any claim, and leave it at that.”
Shan, bumping her way through the swinging door from the kitchen, drew their attention. They were silent as she placed the tray holding the coffee service on the table between them.
“Ah, reinforcements have arrived.” Elizabeth pointedly nodded her head toward the three settings on the tray.
She lifted her chin and scowled at the humor dancing in Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Shall I go?” Shan looked questioningly at her.
Elizabeth didn’t give her the opportunity to answer. “Don’t go on my account, my dear.” She smiled at Shan. “I understand you are one of my great-granddaughter’s partners.”
“And friend.” Shan took a seat beside her.
She swallowed at hearing herself called great-granddaughter by Elizabeth. Despite everything, the recognition of the relation being spoken so casually sent a shiver of something unexpected, and not completely unpleasant, tingling over her skin.
“Now, where were we?” Elizabeth accepted a cup and saucer from Shan. She sat back against the couch and her gaze connected once more. “Ah, yes. Your waiver.” She sipped at her coffee. “Though such a document isn’t necessary, if it will make you feel more comfortable, then by all means have it drawn up. I’ll accept it.”
Relaxation seeped into her tense body for the first time since she’d looked out her dormer window. The feeling was short-lived.
“What I won’t accept is leaving it at that, as you put it. It won’t matter that you aren’t making a claim, Megan. Before I left the farm this morning, I contacted my own attorney. I had him begin the process of settling your inheritance on you.”
The cup and saucer she’d just lifted clattered to the table. “I don’t want your money.”
“Be that as it may.” Elizabeth’s eyes were shrewd and determined. “It will be done. And it’s not my money. It’s yours, set aside long ago for any descendants of my daughter, Anne. My attorney will also be addressing the change of circumstances in my will.”
Meggy shot a harried look at Shan, who shrugged. Though Elizabeth couldn’t quite be considered the fire-breathing she-dragon she’d feared finding, she wasn’t the warm and fuzzy, cookie-baking type of grandmother she’d hoped for either. No, Elizabeth Ashford was a steam roller in pearls. Meggy had rolled over her share of timid souls these past years and considered her assertiveness a positive trait.
But could the pushy matriarch accept her for who and what she was, or would she insist on molding her into some sort of perfect, society doll? The possibility made her palms sweat. “You don’t know for sure I’m Rachel’s daughter,” she insisted. “It could all be a big misunderstanding. This DNA test you mentioned? What if I refuse to have it done?”
“You’re grasping at straws, Megan.” Elizabeth leaned forward, setting her coffee on the table. When she met her gaze, the shrewdness had faded from her eyes, to be replaced with a gentle compassion. “You have nothing to fear from me, from us. I’ve been looking for you for over a quarter century. The moment I saw you at the farm, I knew you were mine. I don’t need a test to confirm it.”
Meggy didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t think she could say anything around the lump in her throat. I’m hers?
Elizabeth sat back. “Now that the tedious financial concerns have been dealt with, we can get to the personal ones. I know you must have questions, but I’m an old lady, so humor me.”
The twinkle in her eyes was anything but old.
“I want to know everything about you. So, start at the beginning.”
She could only stare wide-eyed at the tiny dynamo perched across from her. Nothing was settled as far as she was concerned, but she couldn’t help but be charmed by the woman’s impish smile. They’d see about the money, in the meantime, she found she couldn’t resist the possibilities shining in Elizabeth Ashford’s eyes.
Meggy extended Rachel’s letter across the table. “Perhaps we should start with this.”
Chapter Seventeen
Meggy slipped the buttons on her smock, letting it slide from her weary shoulders with an appreciative sigh. It joined the slacks on the floor at the foot of her bed. In bra and panties, she headed for the refrigerator and a bottle of water.
She wandered to the tiny dormer window overlooking the driveway. Popping the cap on the bottle, she took a long swig while staring down at the dimly lit carriage house. Muted light shown from the windows, illuminating the large black Mercedes parked just outside. A large shadow moved past one of the windows, and she took a step backward before catching herself. When she realized what she’d done, she snorted in self-disgust.
The shadow shifted once more, and she made herself turn away. Their deceitful tenant was still awake, despite the lateness of the hour. She hoped something he’d eaten had disagreed with him. It would serve him right. Then she rolled her eyes. Since he’d eaten dinner in the Palmer House lounge, he’d probably sue her. He was a lawyer, licensed in Massachusetts, after all.
The bastard. A low growl escaped her throat as she sat on the edge of the bed. She set the water bottle on the nightstand before dropping to her back to stare at the ceiling.
He’d worn a satisfied smile when he’d returned to escort Elizabeth to her rooms at The Palmerton Inn. Considering the reception he’d received only an hour earlier, she hadn’t seen what he had to smile about. Well, other than the fact that her demand he vacate the carriage house had no teeth and they both knew it. Why he would want to continue the lease when he’d already gotten what he’d come for was a mystery. But she’d been too emotionally exhausted and heartsick to analyze his motives.
She’d immersed herself in the many details involved in running a smooth kitchen, and by the time the dinner crowd began to arrive, she’d managed to relax. The dozens of times Trevor’s betrayal had intruded on her peace, she’d forced the anguish to a dark corner of her mind and concentrated on what she could control. Producing a fabulous dining experience for her customers.
Mentally patting herself on the back for a job well done, she’d stepped into the dining room for her nightly appearance. Her composure shattered when she spotted the reason for her disquiet seated at his usual spot at the bar.
From the sour look on Shan’s face, her devoted friend wasn’t any happier with his presence than she. Shan’s mouth was pulled in a tight line as she set a draft beer in front of Jasper, perched on the stool beside Trevor. The hush that went through the unusually large number of locals in the lounge continued while Meggy completed her turn around the dining room.
She couldn’t recall a single word she’d said to the diners. For all she knew, she’d babbled like an idiot. All of her concentration was focused on denying the urge to march up to the bar and knock the billionaire lawyer on his ass.
Seeing him sitting so chummily with Jasper, her throat closed up at the realization that there would be still more unpleasant fallout to face from yesterday’s revelations. Just a matter of time until the whole t
own knew the truth. That truth being, the Palmerton pit bull had made a complete and utter fool of herself, lapping up Trevor’s deceitful attention like a desperate pound puppy while the entire town looked on.
Until very recently, she hadn’t been one to run from an unpleasant situation. Facing things head-on had always been her style. It pissed her off that she wanted to run, from him, so she focused on the anger instead. She’d be damned if she’d let him intimidate her in her own place.
She lifted her chin against the curious looks that followed her as she approached the bar. There’d be no more embarrassing shows for the town’s entertainment. Until Trevor took her words to heart and went away, she would simply ignore him.
Shan’s gaze was full of impotent apology.
Meggy did her best to reassure her friend with a smile. She ignored Trevor’s disturbing presence, focusing her attention on Jasper. “Hello, Jasper.” She paused beside his stool. “If I’d known you were coming in tonight, I would have added my sour cream pumpkin cake to the menu,” she said, knowing of his notorious sweet tooth and of his enjoyment of that recipe in particular.
“I hadn’t planned to come in tonight,” the town’s oldest citizen admitted. “But after this afternoon’s excitement…” He chuckled and his eyes twinkled. “I decided to come check out things for myself.”
“This afternoon’s excitement?”
The old man fixed her with a stare, the knowing look in his eyes telling her he was well aware she was consciously avoiding looking at the man sitting to his right. His gaze shrewd, he turned to pin Trevor with a glittering smile. “It looks like you’ve got some more groveling to do if you’re going to get back in her good graces.”
“Excuse me?” She blinked, at a loss. No one but the O’Sheas knew there was a reason for Trevor to have fallen out of her good graces. None of them would have shared her shame.
“The writer here.” Jasper jerked his head in Trevor’s direction. “Who, it turns out is no writer at all, came into the Bluebell today to explain his real reasons for coming to town.”
“He what?” She finally looked at Trevor. Her fingers curled into claws at the crooked smile on his face. “You what?”
“They would have found out the truth soon, anyway. I just made sure they got the correct story. And I wanted to apologize for being dishonest with everyone.”
Jasper ignored her gasp at Trevor’s calm explanation. “I admit I was none too happy to learn he’d lied, but once he’d explained the situation, it was easy to see it from his point of view. Imagine, our own little Meggy, the long lost heir to the Ashford fortune. Why, it’s like something you’d read about in a book.” He cackled a dry laugh. “Besides, I owed him one for all those meals he bought me.”
Jasper’s endorsement was one shock too many, in a day full of incomprehensible shocks. She flew at Trevor, her eyes blazing. She forgot where she was and the avid audience. Shan was already skirting the edge of the bar in an attempt to head off the explosion when it hit.
She shoved him for all she was worth, disappointed when he barely budged on the stool, which shouldn’t have surprised her. He had ten inches and fifty pounds on her. Still, it infuriated her that he wasn’t laying flat out on the floor.
Instead, he rose to his feet and reached out a hand.
She slapped it away. “You announced my private business in front of the entire crowd at the Bluebell?” She gulped in air. “You had no right!”
The commotion had caught the attention of not just those in the lounge. Quiet had descended over the dining room as well.
The oddity of that had brought a curious Cal out of the kitchen. He hurried toward the bar at Shan’s pleading look.
“You had no right!” Meggy repeated on a shout.
However Trevor would have responded was lost when Cal stepped between them. Her sous chef slung a thick arm over her trembling shoulders and began muscling her toward the kitchen, calling out in false cheerfulness, “You’re needed in the kitchen, boss.” He leaned close to press his mouth to her ear. “Meg, are you crazy? The entire place is watching and listening.”
Hours later, she was still horrified that she’d let loose her temper without a single thought for her customers. The man was making her crazy! She flicked off the lamp and stared at the dark shadows on the ceiling of her quiet room.
The only good thing that had happened on this day from hell had been her conversation with her great-grandmother. Surprisingly, she’d been left hopeful they could eventually forge a mutually satisfying relationship. Far from slamming the proverbial door in her face, Elizabeth was demanding they get to know one another—and amazingly was staying in town to see that happened. To her delight, she found the Ashford matriarch to be a charmingly assertive woman. A tough old bird with a soft heart, as Brody had described her. She smiled at the apt description.
That soft heart had been apparent in the tears she’d shed when she’d read Rachel’s letter. She’d gone on to tell her what she believed had led to Rachel’s disappearance all those years ago and her subsequent decision to give up an unexpected baby. Rachel had always been a difficult child, she’d explained, wanting her freedom from the time she was eleven or so. She’d never shouldered responsibilities well, especially those that came along with the Ashford name. She had bristled against the need for the security being Anne’s daughter required, even when she was very young. Elizabeth suspected she’d begun using drugs, perhaps in rebellion, but that was just assumption. Whatever the reason, she’d been an unhappy young woman.
The postal stamp on Rachel’s letter was the first real lead they’d had on her whereabouts in a quarter century. Meggy had seen the hopeful excitement in Elizabeth’s eyes, even as she admitted that if Rachel still didn’t want to be found, the odds of doing so weren’t good. The letter had been written four years ago and, for Elizabeth’s sake, Meggy could only hope it wasn’t another dead end. She couldn’t give Elizabeth back her granddaughter, but she could settle the matter of her great-granddaughter. First thing tomorrow, she’d have the DNA test done.
Shutting her eyes, she tried to will herself to sleep, but her mind insisted on playing a film strip of memories against her closed eyelids. She told herself to focus on the fury that had blasted from Trevor's pale eyes when she’d slipped off his charm bracelet, but those other, softer images kept sliding back in to thrash and tear at her. Trevor’s smile that first morning in the carriage house. His boyish excitement at the unexpected treat of floor seats for the Celtics game. His seeming sincerity as he held out a fat, silver heart and told her he loved her.
Fighting against the silent stream of salty tears flowing into her hairline, she squeezed her eyelids tight.
She’d been a fool, scoffing at women she’d met over the years who yearned for a man who’d crushed their hearts under a careless heel. But she hadn’t understood. Hadn’t known the true scope of her woman’s heart. Hadn’t realized that once given, once caressed by the fingers of love, that tender organ pulsed with a steadfast beat that transcended pain, and betrayal, and the knowledge of the mind.
Trevor Bryce Christos, with his dimpled smiles and calculated deceit, wasn’t worthy of a single thought, much less her heart. Her mind railed at the injustice of his betrayal, demanding she cross him off as a difficult, but well-learned lesson, but her heart… Her heart lay shattered in a thousand razor sharp shards.
With a low moan, she rolled to her side and curled in a tight ball. Her gasping sobs echoed in the silence, an audible witness to the painful quaking of her grieving mind and body.
Chapter Eighteen
Trevor flung open the door to the carriage house and scowled at the empty driveway. Where the hell had she gone? The question had been driving him crazy since he’d watched her climb into the big SUV that had rumbled up the driveway a few minutes before seven that morning.
Justin Cooper had hopped out of the vehicle and strolled through the front door of Palmer House as though he had every right to be there. He’
d emerged several moments later, his arm slung across the shoulders of a smiling Meggy.
The door slammed with a satisfying thump. He wasn’t accustomed to leaving a pressing situation hanging as he had with Meggy, any more than he was accustomed to having a woman who claimed to love him refuse to speak to him—unless it was to yell at him. A number of women had claimed to love him over the years, and each of them had done everything they could to get close to him and stay there. Now that he had finally found the one woman he wanted close, she didn’t want anything to do with him. The situation was unacceptable and infuriating.
And his fault, he knew.
The knowledge didn’t make it easier to accept. Not that he was accepting anything. This situation couldn’t be allowed to go on indefinitely. He had no intention of letting her call a halt to their relationship as she planned.
In the meantime, he was needed in Virginia. A problem at one of the family’s holdings needed his immediate attention. He forked fingers through his hair. And Meggy and Elizabeth needed some time to get to know each other. They could have the time until he returned, and then, by damn, he and Meggy would have things out. He paced the room once more just as he’d done so many times during the night.
Her relationship with Justin Cooper would be the first thing they addressed. He wasn’t about to stand by and let some muscle-bound cop beat his time.
The sound of a vehicle turning up the drive had him rushing to the door. He yanked it open just as a black pickup truck came to a stop at the back of Palmer House.
Cara Finnegan’s curvy frame slid from the lifted vehicle to land gracefully on the ground.
With the sharp claws of jealousy shredding his already tenuous control, he stomped up the walkway. He didn’t wait for her to finish pulling the two shopping bags from the cab of the truck. He leaned past her and grabbed them himself.
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