This I Promise You

by Smith, Maureen

  George held up a hand. “No need to stand on ceremony, Edward,” he said in a deep, strong voice that resonated with authority. “We don’t need an introduction to our own daughter and grandson.”

  George and Lenore stared long and hard at Georgina, their eyes devoid of emotion. She returned their scrutiny, keeping her gaze steady with a supreme effort of will.

  “Georgina,” her father said at last. There was a tremor in his voice that suggested he wasn’t as unmoved by the reunion as he appeared. “You’re looking well.”

  “Thank you, Daddy. So are you.” Georgina nodded to her mother. “Both of you.”

  Lenore tipped her head in acknowledgment. Even at her advanced age, she was still a beauty with her fine features, unblemished skin and dainty figure. Wearing pearls and a long burgundy dress made of crushed velvet, she was the epitome of elegant refinement.

  “So this is our grandson,” George said gruffly.

  “Yes.” Georgina gave Quentin a warmly affectionate look. “This is my Junebug.”

  George and Lenore’s focus shifted to Quentin. They studied him intently, sizing him up as he stared back at them with calm defiance. Their expressions softened for the first time, and something like pride flickered in their eyes.

  “Hello, Quentin,” Lenore said in smooth, cultured tones. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Quentin inclined his head, but didn’t return the sentiment.

  “This must be your wife,” Lenore continued. “How do you do, Alexis?”

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Harrington.” Lexi looked like she wanted to curtsy. “It’s so nice to meet you. You have a beautiful home.”

  “Thank you, dear.” Lenore motioned them forward. “Do come and sit with us.”

  They entered the parlor. Georgina and Edward sat in silk-upholstered chairs with carved wooden armrests while Quentin and Lexi sat together on an antique sofa.

  “Where’s your son?” Lenore asked them.

  No sooner had the question left her mouth than Mrs. Branford sailed through the door with Junior. “Here he is,” she announced in a singsong voice. “Fed, bathed and ready to meet his great-grandparents.”

  “Wonderful,” Lenore said briskly. “Bring him here so we can have a look at him.”

  Mrs. Branford carried Junior over to her employers. George and Lenore took one look at him and started beaming.

  “What a handsome little fella,” George declared.

  “Yes, he is.” Lenore held out her arms for the baby.

  Junior stared at her for a moment, then opened his mouth and began to wail.

  Lenore drew back in affront.

  “Oh, dear,” the startled housekeeper fretted as Junior burrowed against her as if he were trying to get away from his great-grandparents.

  When Lexi shot an embarrassed glance at Quentin, he gave her a darkly amused look. Hadn’t she told him that babies were the best judges of character? It seemed she was right after all.

  As Junior’s wails grew louder, Lexi got up and hurried over to take him from Mrs. Branford. She cuddled him and soothingly patted his bottom while she apologized to George and Lenore. “I’m so sorry. He’s had a long day, and sometimes he gets cranky when he hasn’t had a decent nap.”

  As Junior’s sobs subsided, Lexi kissed his forehead and stroked his hair. “All better now?”

  He blinked at her, his lashes spiky with tears. Just when it seemed the storm had passed, he hazarded another look at his frowning great-grandparents. Almost at once, his chin wobbled and he burst into fresh wails.

  As George and Lenore exchanged indignant glances, it was all Quentin could do not to howl with laughter.

  Flustered and baffled by their son’s behavior, Lexi muttered another apology and headed quickly out of the room. The concerned housekeeper wasn’t far behind.

  Lenore watched them go, her lips thinned with displeasure. “That child has been coddled too much.”

  “Not at all,” Georgina said defensively. “Quentin Junior is the happiest baby I know. I keep him all the time, and I’ve never seen him react that way to anyone before.”

  Lenore sniffed haughtily. “I suppose he’s simply not accustomed to meeting new people.”

  Edward looked amused. “He didn’t have a problem with me. Nor any of the others, for that matter. And he took to Mrs. Branford like a duck to water.”

  When his mother skewered him with a glare, Edward laughed. That small act of defiance earned him a few cool points with Quentin.

  Just then the sound of a man’s voice came from the foyer. It was followed unexpectedly by Junior’s infectious gurgle of laughter.

  Edward glanced toward the doorway and grinned. “Sounds like Mr. Patterson is back from running errands.”

  “Mr. Patterson?” Georgina asked.

  “Our household manager,” Edward explained. “He’s been with us for years. He’s a good man, keeps this place running like a well-oiled machine. But I didn’t realize he was so good with babies.”

  As Junior let out another burbling laugh, George and Lenore’s faces tightened.

  Unable to resist, Quentin drawled, “So much for the boy not taking to new people, huh?”

  His mother hid a smile behind her hand.

  Edward grinned outright.

  “If you all would excuse me,” Quentin continued, leisurely rising from the sofa, “I think I’ll go introduce myself to my son’s newest friend.”

  His grandparents looked affronted as he strolled out of the room, all but whistling with satisfaction.

  No doubt about it.

  Babies were the best judges of character.

  17

  As Lexi got dressed for dinner that night, she found herself battling a bad case of nerves. The thought of spending an evening with the blue-veined members of Quentin’s family was daunting. She didn’t know what to expect, and she couldn’t help worrying that she would say or do something to totally embarrass herself.

  “You look incredible.”

  The deep, velvety timbre of Quentin’s voice broke into her troubled musings. She glanced up to see him standing over her, his eyes glittering with blatant masculine appreciation as they slid down her body.

  His reaction made her glad she’d taken extra care with her appearance that evening. After expertly applying her makeup and arranging her hair into an elegant topknot, she’d donned a black silk cocktail dress with a niched bodice and a full skirt that flared out to just above her knee. She’d brought a pair of glamorous black stilettos from Asha’s collection to wear with the dress. For the evening that lay ahead, she figured she’d need all the help she could get channeling Asha’s confidence, poise and sophistication.

  Perched on the edge of the bed, she smiled up at Quentin as she put on the Tiffany diamond earrings he’d given her for her birthday in September.

  “Why, thank you, Mr. Reddick,” she purred. “You don’t clean up too bad yourself.”

  Which was an understatement, of course. Quentin looked amazing in an impeccably tailored dark suit that emphasized his powerful frame and commanding height.

  He hitched up his pants legs and smoothly sank into a crouch before her. As she watched him, he picked up one of her stilettos and slid it onto her arched foot. The heat of his hands sent a shiver through her.

  “Every time you help me put on my shoes,” she murmured, “it reminds me of the way you slipped the garter up my dress at Marcus and Samara’s wedding. Do you remember?”

  “Of course.” His eyes gleamed. “I remember how you trembled and bit your lip…like you’re doing now.”

  She blushed, making him smile as his fingers feathered up and down her legs, kneading her calves.

  “The way you looked at me that day turned me the hell on,” he confessed. “I wanted you right then and there, Lex. I wanted my best friend.”

  A thrill rippled through her. Breathless, she stared at him as he slowly guided her foot into the other pump.

  “After dinner tonight,” he said in
a low, seductive drawl, “we’re going to sneak a bottle of wine from the kitchen, come upstairs to our room and lock the door. I’m going to undress you, nice and slow, until you’re wearing nothing but these sexy ass shoes. Then I’m going to tie your wrists to one of those bedposts and pour wine down the curve of your back. While you shiver and whimper my name, I’m going to lick the wine off your beautiful body and eat your sweet pussy. And then I’m going to fuck you, deep and hard, until you scream and beg for mercy.”

  “Oh, my God,” Lexi breathed, pressing her thighs together as her sex clenched viciously at his words. “Quentin…”

  “What, baby?”

  “I…uh…I don’t know if…um…” She swallowed. “Do you think it’s a good idea to make me scream in a houseful of people? With Junior sleeping right next door?”

  “Don’t deny me this.” His eyes glittered fiercely. “The thought of making love to you is the only thing that’s gonna get me through this evening.”

  That made her smile. And melt.

  “In that case,” she whispered, reaching out and laying a hand along his jaw, “you’ve got yourself a date.”

  Dinner was held in the formal dining room in the east wing of the mansion.

  As Quentin escorted Lexi through the arched double doors, she couldn’t help feeling a little awestruck as she took in her opulent surroundings. The massive room boasted some of the original plasterwork and ornate mahogany paneling. Two enormous Waterford crystal chandeliers hung from the domed ceiling, and the marble floor shimmered before her like an endless ocean. A bank of French doors along the back wall showcased views of a stunning topiary garden.

  A servant led them toward a large mahogany table draped with a snowy linen cloth and set with fine china and silverware and crystal wineglasses. It was long enough to seat more than forty people, which was about the size of the dinner party.

  No one sat down until George Harrington took his place at the head of the table, with his wife to his left and Georgina to his right. Olivia sat beside her mother with her husband, Ellis, to her right. Edward and his wife, Grace, sat next to Georgina while Quentin and Lexi were seated across the table from them. Edward’s daughter Georgina took the chair next to Lexi, followed by her siblings Wesley, Lavinia, Richmond and his wife. Olivia’s children and their spouses sat at the other end of the table with the kids and teenagers.

  Once everyone was seated, an army of servants brought out oyster soup for the first course.

  As the meal got under way, Edward smiled across the table at Quentin. “I was thinking about taking you over to the law firm tomorrow. I’d like to show you around and introduce you to some folks.”

  Quentin glanced over at his mother, saw the pleading look in her eyes, and reluctantly nodded. “That’d be fine.”

  “Good.” Edward looked pleased. “We’ll leave after breakfast.”

  Again Quentin nodded.

  His grandfather addressed him next. “I understand congratulations are in order, Quentin. I just learned that you will be receiving the Bennie Award from Morehouse College. That’s very impressive.”

  “Thank you,” Quentin murmured with unaffected modesty.

  As a chorus of congratulations went up around the table, Lexi and Georgina beamed with pride. When Lexi squeezed Quentin’s knee under the table, he winked at her.

  “That’s wonderful news,” Edward and Olivia said above the excited chatter. “We’re so proud of you, Quentin.”

  “What’s a Bennie?” one of the children asked curiously.

  “It’s an award to recognize the outstanding career achievements of Morehouse alumni,” George explained in a satisfied tone. “It was named in honor of Morehouse’s former president Dr. Benjamin Mays. Those who receive the award are considered pioneers and leaders in their respective fields. It’s a tremendous honor.”

  “Yes, it is.” Lexi sent a warm smile around the table. “The honorees will be recognized at the ‘Candle in the Dark’ gala in February. I hope all of you can attend.”

  “We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Olivia assured her.

  “Great.” Lexi beamed with pleasure. So far so good.

  After the soup course was passed, the servants brought fragrant platters of food from the kitchen and began serving everyone with practiced efficiency.

  “It seems we have a mutual friend, Quentin,” Lenore announced, her regal voice carrying across the table. “I understand Evangeline Wolf is your best friend’s great-grandmother.”

  Quentin nodded. “Yes, ma’am. She is.”

  Lexi smiled at his grandmother, relieved to have something in common with her. “How do you know Mama Wolf?”

  “Why, everyone in Savannah knows Evangeline Wolf,” Lenore said with mild condescension. “She’s one of our oldest living residents, of course, and she attends our church. But I met her personally many years ago through the Historic Savannah Foundation. She’s a renowned genealogist and a regular speaker at our society luncheons. Quite an extraordinary woman.”

  “That she is.” Georgina smiled warmly. “When she turned one hundred and three this year, we threw her a big birthday party in Atlanta. Everyone came, including the mayor and some reporters who wrote feature articles about her. We all adore Mama Wolf.”

  “Understandably so.” Lenore lifted her glass to her mouth, but didn’t drink her wine. “Speaking of extraordinary people, I never thought I’d live to see the day we’d have a black man in the White House and one in the Texas governor’s mansion. Between the two elections, I honestly couldn’t say which outcome stunned me more.”

  “That’s a tough one,” Richmond Harrington said with a chuckle. “Bernard Chambers was a black Democrat running for governor in one of the reddest states in the country. Even with all his wealth and connections, the odds were seriously stacked against him.”

  “But he prevailed.” Lenore smiled triumphantly. “As I told your father after the election, he has every reason to be optimistic about Georgia’s electorate.”

  At this pronouncement, Lexi felt Quentin stiffen beside her. And she knew, instinctively, that things were about to take a very bad turn.

  Eyes narrowing with suspicion, Quentin looked across the table at Edward. “Is that why we’re here, uncle? Because you’re planning to run for governor, but first you need to get your house in order and clear all the skeletons out of your closet?”

  Edward looked stricken. “Of course not!”

  “You sure about that?” Quentin challenged. “It had to cross your mind that voters might not look too favorably upon a candidate who abandoned his own sister for over forty years.”

  Edward blinked in surprise, glanced sideways at Georgina and then looked back at Quentin.

  Leaning across the table, he said low and succinctly, “I’m not running for governor. But even if I were, that would have nothing to do with why I sought out you and your mother. You’re here because your rightful place is with this family, and it’s high time that we end this disgraceful feud that’s kept us apart all these years. Whether you believe it or not, nephew, I had no ulterior motives for inviting you here.”

  The two men regarded each other, tension crackling in the air between them.

  Lexi picked up her linen napkin and carefully wiped the corner of her mouth.

  Someone coughed delicately.

  “Speaking of Governor Chambers,” George smoothly intervened, addressing his words to Quentin, “have you ever met his son Brandon?”

  “I have.” Quentin kept his gaze level with his uncle’s. “We both spoke at the bar association’s annual meeting two years ago and had drinks afterward. I liked him. He’s good people.”

  “He is,” George agreed.

  “Handsome too,” a feminine voice added at the other end of the table. The remark drew dreamy sighs and murmurs of agreement from the other girls.

  Lenore sniffed. “Brandon is handsome. It’s such a shame he had to lower himself into the gutter to find a wife,” she said reproachfully
, primly cutting into her beef tenderloin. “He could have had his pick of any number of accomplished daughters from good families. A young man of his pedigree had no business marrying an adult film star.” She tsk-tsked. “His poor mother.”

  Quentin smirked, twirling his glass on the table. “From what I understand,” he drawled with lazy insolence, “marrying a former adult film star didn’t get Brandon disowned by his family. Imagine that.”

  As the barb hit its mark, his grandparents shot a glance at Georgina. Bitter resentment flashed over her face an instant before her serene mask slid back into place. As she calmly picked up her glass and sipped her wine, George and Lenore looked at each other, their lips pressed tightly together.

  The table lapsed into a heavy silence that was broken only by the sound of silverware against china and an occasional tinkle of crystal.

  When Lenore’s dark eyes suddenly fastened onto Lexi, it was all she could do to keep from shrinking away. She had to remind herself that she and Quentin were already married, so she had nothing to prove.

  “Alexis,” the old woman said imperiously, “I understand you graduated from Spelman.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I did.”

  “Why didn’t you pledge a sorority?”

  The question caught Lexi off guard. “A sorority?”

  “Yes. A sorority.”

  “Um, well, it’s not something I was really interested in,” Lexi admitted.

  Lenore lifted a brow, her lips thinning in disapproval. “Oh?”

  Lexi gulped. “Don’t get me wrong. I have the utmost respect and admiration for black fraternities and sororities. I know how important they are, and I recognize their many historical and political and cultural contrib—”

  Lenore cut her off. “Yet you had no interest in joining any of these organizations you claim to hold in such high esteem.”

  Lexi faltered a moment, then shook her head with a rueful expression. “To be honest, I was a bit of a tomboy back in college, so I didn’t think I was sorority material anyway. But I was involved in many other clubs and student organizations. And, of course, some of my dearest friends are members of the Divine Nine, including my Omega man right here,” she added, smiling warmly at Quentin.