Who Brings Forth the Wind (Kensington Chronicles)

by Lori Wick

  of square feet of floor space and gleaming pots hanging

  and tables spread out was permanently stamped in her mind.

  105

  thoughts spun as she remembered the large number of

  Itehen staff alone. How would she manage all of this?

  Stacy shook her head as the direction of her thoughts

  itened to overwhelm her, and was relieved to see Rayna

  me to the edge of the room.

  "I have your correspondence here, my lady."

  "Oh," Stacy spoke with surprise, not having expected this.

  ['Thank you, Rayna." She took the letters and glanced through

  jthem.

  "I believe your aunt has been in touch with you," Rayna

  spoke respectfully. "She wrote to me also. If after you read

  your letter, my lady, and like the idea--my answer is yes. If

  there is nothing else, I'll continue your unpacking."

  Stacy nodded, feeling confused as Rayna walked away, but

  she swiftly turned her attention back to the small pile of

  letters in her hand. After walking into her sitting room, she

  made herself comfortable in a chair and began to read. The

  first letter was from Lucinda. Stacy's eyes widened on two

  occasions, first when she wrote that Rayna could stay with her

  if the situation was suitable, and then again when Lucinda told

  of her upcoming marriage to Roddy.

  Stacy's eyes slid shut in rapture at the latter news. They

  were so perfect for each other, and Stacy knew they loved one

  another deeply. A small smile played around the corners of

  her mouth when she considered the fact that she had probably

  helped things along when she'd talked with Roddy in the

  carriage. Stacy chuckled softly over how much fun it was to be

  a matchmaker.

  The next letter was from a woman named Chelsea Gallagher,

  a neighbor apparently, and one whom Stacy hadn't

  met. She wrote to welcome Stacy to the area and to offer her

  congratulations. Chelsea also expressed her wish to meet

  Stacy soon.

  Stacy pondered for a time as to whether she had seen this

  woman at a social gathering or at the wedding and decided

  that she simply couldn't recall. With a resigned shrug she

  opened the last note--it was from Sunny Hawkesbury. Sunny

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  wrote to ask if she and her sister-in-law, Chelsea Gallagher,

  could call on her the afternoon of the twentieth. Stacy was

  smiling with delight at the prospect when Tanner entered the

  room.

  "That's quite a smile," Tanner chuckled as he pulled his

  wife from the settee and into his arms.

  "I got a letter from Sunny Hawkesbury. She and Chelsea

  Gallagher want to come to see me on the twentieth."

  "That's this Friday. You'd better reply right away."

  "How do I get word to them?"

  Tanner, who had been bending his head to kiss her,

  straightened in surprise.

  "You send a servant."

  "Oh," Stacy said inadequately, feeling very young and

  gauche under his raised brow.

  Tanner saw the color rise in her face. He bent and pressed

  a kiss to her brow and then spoke with his arms wrapped

  securely around her.

  "I came up to ask you to go riding with me. Write your

  note, and I'll give it Price. If ever you have a question, see

  Price; he'll take care of you. After you've finished with your

  reply, you can slip into a riding habit and we'll get a ride in

  before dinner."

  Stacy smiled gratefully and did as he asked. Within 40

  minutes, she'd sent word to Sunny and was riding across the

  meadows of Winslow with her husband. Only once did she

  think of Lucinda's news and took a moment to share it with

  Tanner, who didn't seem surprised at all. As Tanner stepped

  up the pace to a gallop, Stacy wondered where her aunt and

  Roddy were now.

  "Something is wrong, Cinda."

  "No, Roddy, it's not."

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  "You're not being straight with me. Have I done something?"

  "Oh, no," Lucinda shook her head, but she refused to look

  at him. They were at the new house on Bates Street, Brentood.

  The painters had been there that day, and Lucinda and

  Roddy had come to see the results. The wedding was set for

  one month's time, and Roddy wanted to be certain that everything

  was just right.

  Roddy did not press Lucinda as they continued their tour,

  but when Lucinda would have 7bid him goodnight at her front

  door, he came in without asking. She started toward the stairs,

  but he captured her hand and led her into the library. The fire

  burned warmly, and after they were seated on the sofa, Roddy

  spoke. Lucinda still had not looked at him, but Roddy told

  himself he wasn't leaving until he was sure he understood her

  silence.

  "What's frightening you, Cinda?"

  Lucinda drew a quick breath. He had so easily guessed her

  problem was fear. She wanted to deny it but couldn't find the

  words. Her throat closed with tears. Roddy's next sentence

  was her undoing.

  "I'm not Aubrey."

  Lucinda put her face in her hands and sobbed. Roddy's

  arms surrounded her. Her frame shook with harsh weeping,

  and Roddy let her cry. When it seemed that she was calming,

  he produced a handkerchief and Lucinda took it gratefully.

  "I'm sorry," she said shakily, "I don't know what's come

  over me."

  "I think I do. I think for years you've convinced yourself

  that Aubrey was unfaithful because of some deficiency in you.

  That's a lie, Lucinda. Aubrey wasn't faithful to you or to anyone,

  including himself. His infidelity was his problem, not

  yours.

  "I'm not going to be married to you for a month and then

  go looking for greener pastures. If I'd been that kind of man, I

  would have proved it a long time ago. You're all the woman I

  want, and will ever want."

  ^

 

  108

  Lucinda was staring into his face, now close to her own, as

  though she were seeing him for the first time. He was so

  wonderful, more wonderful than she deserved

  "Do you believe me?" Roddy asked.

  "Yes, I do," Lucinda said with wonder and then knew she

  had to be completely honest. "However, I may be plagued by

  doubts again."

  "If you are, come to me, Cinda, just as soon as the fears

  surface."

  Lucinda leaned forward and kissed him then, but Roddy

  held himself in check. They lived in an age and time where

  intimacy was a casual thing. Not so with Roddy Caruthers.

  Lucinda was precious to him, and even knowing that she

  would be his wife in a month was not enough to press him into

  doing something he felt was wrong.

  Just a few weeks now, Roddy told himself as he exited. She'll be mine to have and hold in just a few weeks.

  Stacy sat on the huge bed their first night at Winslow and

  tested the softness. She didn't lie back, but bounced a little on

  her seat and then got comfortable against the headboard

  With the ease that years of practice afforded her, she then

  reached for her h
air.

  Rayna had brushed it smooth for her, but for as long as she

  could remember she'd braided it down her back at bedtime

  and did so now. It made her hair much easier to manage in the

  morning. Even though Tanner liked it hanging free, Stacy's

  mind was on other things and she acted out of habit.

  She had just reached for a book on the nightstand when

  Tanner joined her. She watched him make himself comfortable

  against the footboard and then stare at her.

  "How do you like Winslow?" he asked.

  "Oh, Tanner," Stacy said, setting the book aside, her eyes

  109

  ^bright with enchantment. "It's the loveliest home I've ever

  seen. I can't think of what your impression must have been

  when we were in Middlesbrough."

  "I was quite comfortable at Morgan, and I enjoyed your

  grandfather tremendously. Hettie tends to step out of place

  quite regularly, but since she doesn't live here, I think I'll

  survive."

  "She's rather protective of me," Stacy returned apologetically.

  "So I noticed. I've gained the fiercest looks from her. I

  don't know if she really believes we're married" Tanner's

  voice was dry.

  Stacy laughed "She's been like a mother to me, and even

  though she's negative and scolds a lot, I can't think of what I'd

  have done without her."

  "Your parents died when you were young, didn't they?"

  "I was little more than a baby. I don't remember either of

  them. It's always been Papa and Hettie and of course Peters.

  He's been like a father also."

  "I have an ancestor that reminds me of Peters. His portrait

  is in the north wing. I'll have to show it to you sometime."

  "Is the north wing always so cold?"

  "Actually it is. It gets very little sun and has always been

  drafty."

  "It's more than the temperature, though," Stacy said, her

  eyes on some distant spot. "The colors used in the decorating

  are cold too. It's nothing like the rest of Winslow. When I

  walked through there it felt like a completely different place."

  "My grandmother had dreary tastes in decorating. Everything

  else has been remodeled. The north wing has what's left

  of her furniture. Feel free to redecorate."

  "Is it used very often?"

  "Almost never," Tanner answered her.

  "Then I don't see any point in spending the money. If you

  want me to, I'll do it, but it seems like a waste."

  "It's up to you," Tanner told her softly, but his mind was

  not on the north wing. It was on discovering that his wife was

  110

  not a spendthrift. He didn't know a woman alive who didn't

  like to spend money on everything she could get her hands on.

  Tanner wondered how many years they would be married

  before she stopped being a surprise.

  stacy peered into the mirror for the fifth time and then

  paced the room some more. Sunny and Chelsea were scheduled

  to arrive in an hour, and Stacy was a nervous wreck. She

  so wanted to make a good impression, but she was convinced

  that they would find her out of place in a home as lovely and

  grand as Winslow.

  Stacy stopped suddenly and mentally scolded herself. Her

  mind was headed off into all kinds of whimsical nonsense,

  and that was ridiculous. After a final glance in the mirror, she

  made herself walk calmly down the wide staircase to see if the

  parlor was in readiness. She met Tanner as he came from his

  study.

  "Ah, here you are. I was just headed to see how you were

  doing."

  "I'm doing fine," Stacy told him much too brightly, her face

  pale.

  Tanner's voice was meant to be reassuring as he continued,

  "When do your guests arrive?"

  "In 48 minutes."

  Tanner had to hide a smile at her precision. She had

  obviously worked herself into a fine state and was on the

  brink of panic.

  "I've known Chelsea Gallagher and her husband, Rand, for

  112

  years. She's a fine woman, and of course you've already met

  Sunny."

  "Of course," Stacy agreed, feeling worse than ever. "I don't

  like my dress," she added absently.

  "Then why are you wearing it?"

  "Because it's part of my trousseau, and I can't let it hang

  there."

  "Change your dress, Stacy," Tanner told her calmly.

  "I don't have time."

  Tanner gently took his wife's hand and began to lead her

  back up the stairs.

  "You think I'm acting like a child, don't you?"

  "No, I don't," Tanner answered her. "I think you're understandably

  nervous because this is the first time you've entertained

  here. Hating your dress only adds to the problem.

  Rayna!" Tanner finished with a shout to Stacy's maid.

  When Rayna appeared, Tanner gave her orders and Stacy

  was amazed at how much calmer she felt from just listening to

  him.

  "Lady Richardson does not like this dress, and quite

  frankly it's not my favorite either. Please see her into something

  more comfortable." With that he turned to Stacy.

  "Do not rush. If your guests arrive early, I will keep company

  with them until you come down."

  Stacy's chest heaved with relief. "Thank you, Tanner."

  Tanner's long-fingered hand tenderly captured her jaw.

  "You're welcome, sweetheart, and trust me, you're going to do

  just fine."

  Chelsea Gallagher was nothing like Stacy expected. She

  was older than Sunny, even though they were sister-in-laws. In

  fact, she was old enough to be Sunny's or Stacy's mother. She

  had a youthful air, however, and was beautiful in her own

  113

  right. Stacy, who was at times rather uncomfortable with her

  figure was quite pleased to find Chelsea more heavily enowed

  than she was herself.

  Chelsea was not as tall as Stacy, but her overall figure was

  more filled out. Sunny was also on the tall side, but her figure

  was willowy. Her tummy was becoming nicely rounded giving

  evidence of the child to come.

  Sunny hugged Stacy as soon as she arrived, and Chelsea

  shookherhandsowarmlythatStacy'sfears melted. There was

  no lack of conversation in the time that followed as Stacy

  described how she and Tanner met and her honeymoon trip

  The next two hours flew by, and Stacy couldn't believe how

  much she was enjoying herself.

  Ktooksometime,butStacysuddenlyrealiZedhowclosely

  Sin 611 Werel Udy Andrca' Aunt Lucinda's

  "You haven't met my brother, have you?" Chelsea asked at

  one point.

  "No."

  "Well, where was Brandon that day we met in London?"

  Sunny interjected with a frown.

  ^!lthink!?uCaTjUSt as Ur Carria8e w*s leaving," Stacy t0ld^m,andt^ ^ned hf*lf. "Brandon is your brothel ^ That s right," Chelsea told her.

  "Then Lady Andrea is your mother."

  Chelsea smiled as she made the connection

  ofypuS5^miSSedthatWillyOUtellmeabouttherest

  ^tJ^rMinly- *?y,

  y UngeSt br ther is De er. He's married wuh children. Miles and Holly are my own children. They're
/>
  both grown and married, and they've made Rand and me

  grandparents three times over."

  "You can't be a grandmother," Stacy interrupted

  i, ^ % ?nd S^y exchanged a look, and then both

  laughed. Chelsea heard this comment often, and it was always

  a source of great amusement to her. She told Stacy that some

  days she felt like a graw-grandmother.

  114

  The women did not stay much longer. Stacy walked them

  out to their carriage when they took their leave. Tanner suddenly

  appeared at her side to assist both ladies inside the

  coach.

  "We would love to have you over for dinner in a few

  weeks," Sunny told the newlyweds.

  Tanner glanced at Stacy for approval before turning back

  to the Duchess of Briscoe.

  "We'll plan on it," he told her.

  "Goodbye until then," Sunny called out the window as the

  carriage pulled away. When she set'tled back inside, Chelsea

  spoke.

  "He's in love with her, Sunny. I wouldn't have believed it if

  I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."

  "They seem very happy," Sunny agreed.

  "But you're concerned about something," Chelsea interjected,

  watching the younger woman carefully.

  "Oh, you'll only say I'm full of doom and gloom if I say it,

  but they are still newlyweds, and I know that Tanner's had

  some deep hurts. Brandon didn't go into detail, but he intimated

  that things have been pretty rough. Stacy couldn't be

  sweeter, but I can't help wondering whether Stacy will be able

  to stand the blow if Tanner's hurts do surface."

  "We'll keep praying," Chelsea told her, and in fact they

  took time right then to lift the young couple to the Lord.

  Two days after Chelsea's and Sunny's visit, Tanner made a

  fast trip into London. He spent more time in the carriage than

  tending his business, but he had several important matters to

  care for. One was a visit to his Uncle Edmond; the other was

  made with Stacy in mind. Both were attended to as swiftly as

  possible, but the day was long and he missed Stacy terribly.

  Not for one moment, not even when he met with his uncle,

  could he dispel her from his thoughts. He wondered briefly if

  115

  [he was becoming obsessed but dismissed the thought immediately.

  He had no more determined to put her from his mind

  ' when he found himself wondering what she was doing right

  then.

  Tanner would have been pleased and surprised to find

  that Stacy was digging in the garden just as Tanner had told