Shannon's Daughter
Page 25
“Peg, we really must go unless you want to pass on lunch, which I wouldn’t advise, since these sessions tend to go on for hours.” Reluctantly, he drew away, firmly removing her hands from around his neck.
“They don’t go on all night, do they?” Her smile was so transparently suggestive, he laughed.
“No. And I’m not going to take the bait on that one, brat. Now get your things and let’s dash. The pub’s not far, but it will take us a few minutes to walk. If you’re going to hang around me, you’re going to have to learn to forego luxuries like cabs. Besides, the fresh air and exercise will do us both good.”
Ignoring his instructions, she spent a few provocative moments running her hands under his jacket, exploring his shoulders with a look of studious concentration. “You take that very seriously, don’t you?”
Lost beneath her touch, he shook his head slightly. “That?”
“Fresh air and exercise. I thought you were fit before, but now you feel even more so.” Tilting her head from side to side curiously, she intensified her probing. “I think you’ve probably gone from yummy to magnificent, but I won’t know for sure until I can get a closer look.”
He lowered his head with a groan. “You have twenty seconds to get your things and start out that door, or I’m leaving without you. Really, Peg, every moment we’re alone is not an opportunity for seduction!’
She slowly dropped her hands, an innocently quizzical smile in her eyes. “Isn’t it? I’m pretty sure, given enough of them, I’ll be able to change your mind.” Turning on her heel, she paused just long enough for him to swat the sweet curve of her bottom as she scurried toward the door with a giggle.
Chapter Thirty-one
“I’ve learned more about you today than in all the time we’ve known each other.” Leaning on the counter, Peg nibbled a slice of carrot and eyed him seriously.
“Is that so? And we’ve known each other for so long, after all.” Glancing up from the cutting board, he arched his brow.
“Well, we have. Years and years if you think about it.”
“With years and years of separation in between. By my calculations, we’ve been together all of five weeks now. And for two of those, you were practically a child. Not what I’d call a lengthy relationship.”
She grinned suggestively. “But we got to know each other very, very well in New York three years ago.”
He cleared his throat, deciding not to encourage her along that path just now. “So what is it you think you learned about me today?”
“Well, for one thing, I learned how well known you are.”
“I hardly think being greeted by name at the local pub and running into a couple of my students constitutes celebrity.”
“Don’t forget the man at the fish market. He even knew the kind of fish you wanted. And that girl in the pub, she remembered what you ate the last time you had lunch there.”
“Only because she botched my order and I was nice enough not to complain. So thus far you’ve seen the pub where I occasionally grab a meal and learned that I like trout. Hardly enough to begin writing my biography.”
“Oh, but there’s more. I learned a lot from being around your friends. Harvey said you never, ever let anything interfere with your rehearsals, particularly not your social life, which tells me you do have a social life. Geoff asked how we knew each other, which means you’ve never discussed me with them, suggesting you’re very private, even with your closest friends. Chad asked you about your promotion with the orchestra, which you hadn’t mentioned, revealing your modesty. And just watching you play reminded me what a gifted musician you are.”
“I see. And did you also read my tea leaves to glean further purely speculative knowledge?”
“No need. I went through your medicine cabinet. Everyone knows that’s the best place to learn about a person.”
“Really? And what secrets did you unearth between the aspirin bottle and the iodine?”
“Oh, let’s just say I now know your brand of hair tonic, that you have a mug and brush instead of a can of shaving cream, and you don’t have any condoms on hand. I even checked your sock drawer while you were helping Chad downstairs with his cello. Not a one in sight.”
“Peg!” he managed to sputter.
“What? I was just curious. You kept them in your wallet when you were in New York, but I already checked there, too. It’s all right you know, I came prepared this time.”
“You what?” More sputtering and he drew a glass of water from the tap, drinking deeply.
“Well, I didn’t really like the condoms. Not that I didn’t appreciate your protecting me. Anyway, it turned out Connie knows a nurse who’ll give out diaphragms without a girl having to see the doctor. So I got one.”
“Good lord! Exactly how did Connie come by this information?”
“She had a pretty serious fling with a Harvard man last year. They went away together for the weekend a couple of times. Connie likes to be extra careful about things, and she said condoms aren’t always reliable. Just out of curiosity, I asked her for the name of this nurse. Not that I told Connie I was involved with anyone, but I said I knew someone who was. It was easy, really. I have it in my purse, in case you’re wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering anything expect why a couple of good Catholic girls would want to know anything about contraceptive devices. Good heavens, Peg, you never cease to shock and amaze me.” He told himself the sudden stickiness beneath his collar had to do with the oven rather than the images she’d brought to mind.
“I’d rather be guilty of avoiding the greater sin of getting myself pregnant. Just having sex isn’t hurting anyone, the way I see it. But ruining three lives by being irresponsible is something I wouldn’t want on my conscience.” Her expression was so sincere, he found himself nodding in agreement.
“And have you had many occasions to use this device?”
The flash of horrified disbelief in her eyes stunned him speechless. They stared at one another for a good minute before Peg drew a deep breath and ground out, “If you have to ask that, then I take back everything I said earlier. I don’t know you at all, Kendall Gregg, and you obviously don’t know me!” With a whirl of skirts, she grabbed up her purse and started for the door.
“Peg, wait! I didn’t mean it like that. . .well, I suppose I did, but I wasn’t thinking.” Hastily wiping his hands on a towel, he lunged for the knob before she could pull open the door. “I’m sorry! Of course whatever you’ve done is none of my business.”
She turned back, her eyes now dark and brimming with tears. “How could you think for one minute I’ve been with anyone else? Always and forever, remember? Or maybe you don’t. Maybe that’s not what it meant to you.” Lower lip trembling, she dropped her head.
He took her gently by the shoulders. “I’m sorry. Here now, please don’t cry. Come sit down. Dinner’s almost ready and we need to talk.” When she offered no resistance, he steered her toward the table. “Still angry?”
“No. Just a little disappointed, I guess. Why are things so confusing this time? One minute I think we’re fine and the next, I wonder if we ever had anything going for us at all.”
Pulling out a chair, he waited until she was seated before kneeling next to her. “Listen to me, Peg. Never doubt that we had. . .have something between us. But life can be confusing enough without trying to maintain a relationship over several years and thousands of miles. For all that we know about each other, there are too many things we don’t know yet. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, that we should take the time to get to know each other, really know each other, this time around.”
“I suppose you’re right.” She sniffed, rummaging in her purse for a tissue.
“Good. That’s a start. Now let’s eat. It would be a shame to overcook that fish.” Standing, he shook off the effect of Peg’s tears and headed for the kitchen.
“That’s another thing I learned today. I had no idea you could cook.”
“Had to learn. I can’t afford to eat out every meal. Not to mention the nutritional benefits of pub grub are dubious at best. I find I quite enjoy it. They say cooking is a form of creativity often masked as drudgery. I haven’t hit the drudgery point yet, thank goodness.”
“I think there’s something very attractive about a man in the kitchen. Not that I know a thing about cooking, but it seems so masterful. Ooh, this looks lovely! What is this vegetable, spinach?”
“No, chard. Practically no calories, loaded with vitamins and relatively cheap. Meets all my requirements for a perfect food.” He watched her poke at the limp green leaves on her plate. “Go ahead. I promise it’s quite flavorful. I sauté in it butter with a bit of onion and garlic.”
She tasted cautiously, rolling her eyes when the flavor registered. “Um! This is good!”
“I told you. You see, when a man has to prepare his own meals, he keeps to things he really enjoys. No one else to please. Now try the fish. It’s a bit of a luxury, but as I don’t eat much meat, it all balances out.”
Peg sampled the fish and laid down her fork, dabbing at her lips with her napkin. “Delicious. Tell me, when did you become so interested in all of this, the cooking and calories and vitamins, I mean? Is that what Chad meant when he said they were going out for some real food tonight, and leave you to your sprouts?”
He grinned. “They can make all the fun they like, but when they’re fat and winded, I’ll still be running up those stairs. And to answer your first question,” he rested his chin on his fist and caught her gaze, “about the same time I tossed out all my condoms and decided I’d have to learn to live like a monk. Shortly after ‘always and forever,’ as a matter of fact.”
She didn’t respond at first, not even blinking. Her lips parted, as if she might answer, but turned up in a slow sweet smile instead.
“So you see, love, I did mean it. Fool that I am I’ve tried to change myself into the kind of man you deserve, the kind of man you should fall in love with someday.”
She frowned slightly. “But I already have fallen in love, Kendall. You didn’t have to change.”
“You only say that because you don’t really know me, Peg. You said yourself you’re only now learning.”
Reaching across to lay her hand over his, she nodded solemnly. “And I love you more with everything I learn. Just think how much I’ll love you by the end of the summer.”
“Now stand back. It tends to come down quickly. I’m sure Mr. Kemper knows the precise moment I go to bed each night.”
“Mr. Kemper? Is he the nice old man who asked what you were playing today?”
“Yes.” He strained against the weight of the bed as it lowered to the floor. “He considers our rehearsals his personal entertainment. There, now you see it.”
She stared down at the narrow bed with its Spartan blanket and sheets. “It’s not very big, is it?”
“Big enough. I sleep alone, remember.” He watched her curiously, wondering if she was put off. “It’s actually quite comfortable.”
In another moment, he was relieved when she smiled up at him. “I’ll have to decide that for myself, won’t I?” Rounding the bed, she came into his arms. Her kiss was almost hesitant, chaste and inquisitive. “Kendall?”
“Yes, brat?”
“You’re not going to make love to me tonight, are you?”
“No. Not tonight. It’s time to get you back to the hotel.”
She stepped away with a resigned sigh. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”
“What are your plans for tomorrow?” Just as a precaution, he returned the bed to its stowed position and closed the doors firmly.
“I’m meeting Aunt Addie and Agnes for Mass at nine. That’s all, really. What about you?” The hopeful spark in her eyes tugged at his heart.
“On Sundays I try to get out to Hertford to see my grandparents.” He hesitated, questioning his impulse. “I don’t suppose you’d care to go with me?”
“Oh, Kendall, I’d love to! I could even get Hammonds to drive us.”
“No, I don’t think so. My bringing a guest will be shock enough. Arriving in a chauffeur-driven car would be too much. We’ll take the train. It’s only a little over an hour’s trip. I usually stay through tea and get back to the city before eight.”
“That sounds like fun.” She had somehow managed to find her way back into his arms and raise her face to within inches of his. “I suppose you should call me a cab now, shouldn’t you?”
“Why? I was planning to walk you back to the hotel.”
“Oh. Well, in that case, we should probably go soon.” Her arms tightened around his waist, aligning her body against his.
“Yes. Definitely.” Kissing Peg was much like breathing, he decided as he tested the seam of her lips and found entry, impossible to avoid for long without dire consequences.
“Why Bleaker?” They fell into step easily, strolling along the quiet street. “It seems an odd name for a quartet. I assume it’s named for someone?”
He chuckled. “No. You see, at the time we got together, we were all struggling. We agreed to join forces because things were so grim for each of us. Geoff said we might as well starve together, since things couldn’t get any bleaker than they were.”
“Oooh! That’s pretty awful, isn’t it? But I suppose it’s too late to change it, now that you’re successful.”
“I wouldn’t go that far, but we get our fair share of gigs. And we’ve decided the name is our good luck charm. No going back now.”
They walked on in silence, Peg’s hand finding its way into his. “So tell me about your grandparents. I remember you said your grandfather’s a barrister.”
“Retired. They’re both in their late seventies now. Granny had a mild stroke two years ago and it slowed her down a bit. Grandfather says she gets confused at times, but she puts on a good show for me. They’re funny together, correcting each other and arguing about silly little things, but they’re the best example I know of a happy marriage.”
“You’re really close to them, aren’t you?” Peg squeezed his hand gently and he looked down, touched by the warmth in her gaze.
“They’ve been wonderful to me, supporting me through everything with my father and sending me to Oxford. I could never repay them for all they’ve done, but I intend to stick by them as they get older. I’m really all they have in the way of family.”
“Your father was an only child?”
“Yes, and so am I, of course. When they lost him, I knew somehow I would have to take his place. Not that they’ve put any sort of pressure on me, but I know my responsibility.” He paused, forcing himself to smile despite the memories. “You’ll like them. Aside from being a bit old-fashioned, they’re very sociable. They don’t get many visitors, so I’m sure they’ll make you feel like an honored guest.”
Brown’s was in sight as they rounded a corner. “I’m sure I’ll love them. I’ve never known any of my grandparents, so you can share yours with me, how’s that?”
“Just don’t get them started on the subject of me as a child. Granny will have us there until midnight.” They passed the doorman, still hand in hand.
“Come up, just for a few minutes?”
“I really shouldn’t.” At the foot of the staircase, he stopped short. Peg turned back with a scowl.
“Give me one good reason.”
“I can give you three. You and me and a hotel room. Dangerous combination.”
She chuckled softly. “Perfect combination, if you ask me. But since you’re so determined to go slowly, you’re probably right. So I’ll just say thank you for a lovely day, and I look forward to tomorrow, how’s that?”
“Very sensible. Good night, brat. Meet me down here at eleven. We’ll grab a bite to eat on the way to the station.” He brushed a kiss on her cheek and made a hasty exit, ignoring the quizzical look in her eyes. If she’d asked him again, he knew he’d have gone right up those stairs, good sense be damned.
/> Chapter Thirty-two
It was a pleasant trip, the weather fine and the train not overly crowded. He’d telephoned his grandfather that morning to warn him he was bringing a guest, “Patrick’s niece from New York,” and received the expected welcome. Peg, dressed very primly in a simple blue suit, had refrained from flirting, opting for conversation about British public transportation and the views out the window over anything more intimate. Against the backdrop of green fields and grazing cattle, she seemed deliciously fresh and innocent, and that innocence lifted his sprits to an unfamiliar altitude of youthful lightheartedness.
His grandparents had been their usual gracious selves. Peg appeared charmed by their well-preserved Georgian house and his grandfather’s lovingly-tended garden, asking appropriate questions about each. Kendall congratulated himself. Bringing Peg had been a fine idea. Judging by the pleasure registered on their faces, the visit had benefited all three of the people he cared most about in the world. Even Mrs. Beatty, who’d served as his grandparents’ housekeeper for as long as he could remember, shot him a congratulatory smile as she wheeled in the tea cart.
Looking back, he realized that, ironically, leaving Peg alone with his grandmother, the gentlewoman who had loved and nurtured him unconditionally throughout his life, had been his fatal error. When his grandfather suggested they step into his study for a moment to discuss “a bit of dull business,” the two of them were bent together over an album of family photos, his grandmother going on proudly, if a trifle inaccurately, about her grandson’s early musical accomplishments.
“You fellows take your time. I don’t get many opportunities for girl talk these days.” Waving a delicate, trembling hand, she smiled cunningly at Peg.
“Just don’t tell her all my secrets, Granny.” He’d winked at her, oblivious to the portent in his caution.
When he returned, announcing that if they were to make their train, they’d best be starting out for the station, he instantly sensed Peg’s distress. She refused to meet his gaze, her expression closed and her smile fixed. While she said a warm farewell to both his grandparents, he’d felt distinctly left out of their final exchange.