Family Secrets: Books 5-8

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Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 48

by Virginia Kantra


  Marcus stared at her. Since when?

  Honey shrugged and started up the hall to look for a way up to the bell room. I cut Naeve down to days only. Im even thinking about getting my own place.

  She heard Marcus snort behind her. That would necessitate remembering to pay your mortgage on time each month.

  Not if I just dig the money out of my trust fund and pay for it up front, she shot back, then she found the stairs she wanted at the middle of the hall.

  The opposite side of the corridor was pretty nifty as well. On that side there was a banister, and she leaned against it. Whoa. She looked down at a straight drop into one of the largest rooms shed ever seen, and Honey had been in her share of big homes over the years. It took up the entire depth of the house. You could spit a whole buffalo in that fireplace, she thought. One end of the room was given over to a sitting area with four sofas and corresponding, bracketing chairs and a bar. The other end of the room sported a pool table and a small dance floor. Dead ahead of Honeys nose, dangling over all of it, was an awesome brass chandelier with a million tiny gold-tinted bulbs.

  Marcus joined her at the railing. Thats where well have the wedding.

  The marble dude did pretty good for himself. There were plenty of specimens from his quarry in evidence, too, from the floor to the fireplace mantel.

  Honey turned to the door on the opposite side of the hall. Just beyond the threshold, steps curled upward. This is it?

  Youre seriously going to make me carry these suitcases up one more level?

  If you wanted to pout about it, then you shouldnt have lifted that rock. Honey started up. She encountered a decent share of cobwebs on the way and batted them aside. She heard Marcus muttering behind her.

  I dont think Gretchen got this room ready for guests.

  I dont care, Honey tossed back.

  You dont He broke off, dumbfounded. What are you up to, Honey?

  Shed reached the top and didnt answer. She gave a little squeal instead.

  It was exactly thata bell room, a space through which to reach the heavy velvet rope that hung down from the center ceiling. She stopped there and looked up at the bell, big and bronze. She reached for the rope.

  Dont you dare, Marcus said quickly, dropping her bags hard to grab her hand away.

  Spoilsport. But she left the rope and went to tour the windows.

  They were spaced every two feet or so all the way around, offering a panoramic view of the island. Even without the hunk on the sailboat, Honey thought, she would have loved this. As it was, she could see his boat perfectly from here.

  The island was long and skinny and the house seemed to be at its northernmost tip. Eviscerated earth gleamed white in the sun off to her rightthe quarries. To her left was a stretch of rugged beach. The rest of the island was hidden from view by forest cover so thick it looked as though the trees were holding each other in strangling, dying embraces. But she noticed two distinct breaks in the tree cover, one on either side of the dirt road she and Marcus had traveled, close to the southern shore of the cove.

  If youre really going to do this, Ill have Rafaela bring up a cot and some linens, Marcus said. He came closer to peer deeply into her eyes. Who are you and what have you done with my five-star-hotel sister?

  Honey laughed. I have my reasons.

  Thats what scares me.

  Ill fill you in on them later. And she decided that she would, too. Her Portuguese Plan would get a nice rise out of everyone. Im starved. The last thing I had to eat was some peanuts on the flight down from Lisbon last night.

  Well be having brunch in about fifteen minutes. Marcus looked at his watch. Downstairs in the big room.

  He left her and Honey went to the windows to look out again, then she turned away to wash up. She wondered if any of those rooms downstairs had their own bathrooms, because there seemed to be a real shortage of plumbing up here. No matter. Sharing one of the bathrooms downstairs was a small price to pay for not having to bunk down next to the rest of her family. Honey trotted downstairs again and this time she kept going past the second floor. Shed already noticed that this lonely little winding staircase went down as well as up.

  She landed in a kitchen. The door she stepped through was tucked between two cooktops on one side and an oven and refrigerator on the other. Right beside it was another door that led directly outside. Perfect for midnight escapes, she thought, grinning.

  A woman was busy at the stove. Her black braid was heavily threaded with gray. She wore the same sort of long, dark skirt as the younger woman on the beach.

  Hi, Honey said.

  The woman gasped and spun around. You scare the devil into hiding!

  Amen, Honey thought. She spoke English. Sort of. Sorry. Im Honey. Marcuss sister. The first one.

  You be the crazy one in that bell room?

  That would be me.

  To her surprise, the woman grinned widely and came from the stove to clasp both her hands. Bonito room, no?

  Yes, the view is spectacular.

  My Ricardo and meI am Rafaelawe honeymoon there. We marry when we work for the senhor. We had no dinheiro to go to Portimao so the senhor say come to big house to get away from our families. She winked slyly.

  Thats the marble guy? How nice of him. Honey stood on tiptoe to look over her shoulder at the stove. So wheres the chow? Alimento?

  That way. Rafaela pointed.

  There was another doorway at the other end of the room, this one of the swinging variety. Honey tucked through it and stepped into the big room. It seemed even larger when you were actually in it, she realized. The four people she found there might have been grains of sand on a beach. They were all gathered at the sofa-and-bar end.

  Honey headed that way. Safe guess that the almost-redhead standing next to her brother was his wife-to-be, she thought. The only other woman there was seated on a sofa beside a man whose hand she appeared to be holding, and the man wasnt Marcus. That wouldnt be a real auspicious matrimonial start, she thought.

  Then her gaze jogged back to Samantha Barnes. And her second thought was, well, if I had boobs like that, maybe I wouldnt have a virginity problem. Maybe no guy would stop when I passed out in the thorns.

  The woman seemed to inhale through her nose and her smile beamed. The smile was genuine, Honey decided, though maybe a little practiced. Marcus had said that she was the U.S. Ambassador to Delmonico, so she had to be good at smooth. But edging beyond that was an I-really-do-want-to-meet-you curl to her mouth.

  Marcus, she thought, was behaving like a man who was either about to get shot or crowned king. He was jittery. He came toward her and grabbed her elbow to drag her toward his fiance. Honey, this is Samantha. Sam, Honey.

  Samantha took her hand. Its nice to finally meet you. Ive heard a lot about you.

  Id be disappointed if you hadnt. Honey grinned.

  This is Gretchen, Marcus said, turning her the other way, and her husband, Kurt. Kurt was kind enough to offer us the island safe from harm for the wedding.

  What kind
of harm? Honey asked, turning away from Samantha to size up the couple on the sofa.

  Never mind, four voices said in unison.

  Well, shed deal with that later, Honey decided. She took stock of the other couple. Something thunked in her chest when she realized that there was a vague physical resemblance between Marcus and his new sister. They had the same dark hair, the same blue eyes. Maybe Marcuss hair inched a little closer to black, but still, it was there.

  The woman came off the sofa and embraced her. That was when Honey realized she was pregnant.

  Hi, Honey said. He was mine first.

  I know that. ButId hoped we could share.

  Give me all the dirt on this voodoo gene business, then Ill decide.

  No! four voices said in unison.

  Honey stepped back and looked around at all of them. This is getting old. Whats going on, anyway? Does this involve state secrets or something?

  No one answered her.

  Hey, Ive got White House security clearance.

  You answer the phones there, Marcus said dryly.

  It stung. Damn it, it actually stung. Why was she only lately so sensitive to her familys dismissal of her? Theyd been doing it to her all her lifewhich was why she went so deliberately out of her way to underachieve. Shed been offered an internship at the White House. Since shed never been sure if it had been on her own merit or if her father or uncle had pulled strings, shed turned it down to be included on the phone staff instead.

  Gretchens husband stood from the sofa to join them, jolting her back to the moment. He was handsome in a rugged sort of way, Honey thought.

  You reputation precedes you, he said.

  Reputations are frisky little things, she agreed.

  He threw back his head and laughed. She really liked his laugh.

  Have you eaten? Gretchen asked.

  No, and I could tackle a steer.

  Would ham and eggs suffice? Rafaela is doing very well at learning to cook American food. We also have some fruit and oysters, muffins, toast.

  Id commit murder for ham and eggs, Honey said wholeheartedly. And oysters.

  The woman smiled. Honey had never seen a face that was both so inherently canny and kind at the same time. All in all, she could enjoy this bunch, she decided.

  They went to the buffet and Honey dug in. She eschewed a little table in one corner to sit on the sofa and balance her plate on her knees. When in Rome, she thought, do exactly the opposite of what the Romans do. Everyone else except Kurt went to the table.

  Marcus says you want to stay in the bell room? he asked.

  Honey chewed, swallowed. It suits me to a T.

  Rafaela should have a bed made up for you there by the time were done here.

  But as for facilities Gretchen said from the table.

  Yeah, I noticed there were a few missing. Honey grinned.

  I suppose the one closest would be ours, Kurts and mine. When you come down from the bell room, its the first door to your left. We dont mind sharing.

  Unless youre a slob, Kurt put in.

  No, Im

  Shes a disaster, Marcus interrupted.

  It made her stomach hurt. Honey got up to put her half-eaten plate back on the buffet. She realized she wasnt all that hungry after all.

  Im afraid theres not much to see or do on the island, Gretchen continued.

  That depends on what you want to do, Honey thought. Oh, Ill keep busy.

  If youd like to explore, there are several motor scooters in the barn.

  There are four or five mules out there, Honey, Marcus said. If you want to wander, stick with them.

  He wanted her to ride a mule after their parents thoroughbred racehorses? I can handle a scooter.

  Please dont ruin my wedding, he said with utter seriousness.

  Honey glanced at Samantha. She seemed to be enjoying the conversation. She didnt appear to be even remotely worried about her wedding. Calm down. I have plans for this week, none of which involve disrupting your nuptials.

  Share with us, Gretchen urged.

  No, wait. You dont want to her to Marcus began, but Honey interrupted him. This would serve him right for the crack about her being a disaster, she thought.

  My Portuguese Plan is to snare a man, she told everyone. Temporarily, of course, just for the duration of my little gig here on Brunhia. She grinned around at all of them. Im going to take myself one kick-ass, smooth-as-blues Portuguese lover.

  Three

  I t took Max twenty minutes to catch the rooster but that was largely because the bird had been on board three times before and he was getting wise to Maxs methods. He circled him with the fishing net and the bird started doing that thing with his neck again as though to lay claim to top-dog masculinity on this vessel. Max floated the net out twice and missed the little bastard. He should just eat him, he thought, but that would involve catching him, too. So he looked over both shoulders and when he was sure that no one was nearby enough to catch the spectacle, he started clucking right back at the feathered demon in what he hoped was a threatening poultry tone.

  Then he thought of the blonde.

  He wasnt worried about islanders catching him communing with a chicken, he realized. They already thought he was a little bit loco. Which left the crazy woman with the reams of sunlight curls, the one who had damned near beached Amandos boat into splinters and had made the wizened old guy clap. Truth be told, Max thought, hed been considering her all morning. Good-looking women were a dime a dozen. But a clappable woman? Yeah, that got his attention.

  The bird did something with its wings and came a foot off the bottom of the boat. Max pushed the blonde from his mind and lunged. This time he was successful and it was every bit as bad as the other times hed been forced to nail the arrogant, needle-beaked, winged beast. The rooster went crazy, squawking and squirming and pecking as Max wrapped his arms around him now that he was safely in the net. Feathers floated everywhere. Max wrapped a quick knot in the net and dropped the bird into the little dinghy he kept tied to the starboard side of the Sea Change.

  Stew pot, buddy. This time Im not going to plead your case. But they both knew he would.

  He hopped down into the dinghy, taking care to step around the writhing, rolling net. He threw off the line, pulled the ripcord on the outboard motor and headed to shore a lot more neatly than Amando had this morning, but then again, he wasnt distracted by reams of blond hair and littleokay, very littlered shorts.

  Max collected the rooster again and started off down the beach toward the tiny village of Deus Fornecea total of twelve cabins, maybe eighty-five people whose yearly earnings equaled a miniscule fraction of what Max earned in an hour whether he was hiding or at the helm of his financial empire. He was happier among them than he had ever been with heads of state and they needed this bird a lot more than he did.

  Lourdes saw him coming. She was working on the beach, scaling the portion of
the nights catch that her family would keep. A small pile of glistening sea bream lay on a rock by her side. Tulio, her husband, would already be headed for Portimao to sell the rest of the haul. Hed be back by noon and sleep until sundown, then hed head out to sea to start the whole routine all over again.

  Bird on board again, Max said, stopping beside the woman. Ill just drop him back in the pen.

  You do that, I be very unhappy.

  The people of Deus Forneceand of Paz, the other little village on the other end of the islanddid their best with English. And he did his best with Portuguese. All in all, they got by.

  Man gets paid for what he does, she insisted.

  Not this man. Max was frustrated. He had been through this so many times before. If it wasnt roosters or hens on board, then it was pigs tethered to the beach. Or a couple of sea bream or cuttlefish tied to his bowsprit. But it was always something. Three or four times a week, it was something.

  The calluses on his handsthe ones hed earned back by sheer stubbornness, lunacy and dint of willcame from mending these peoples nets, filleting their fish, repairing a boat or two. Max knew carpentry. A long time ago, in another life, hed staked his future on it. He helped these people because he enjoyed it, and because he had nothing better to do with his time. He helped them because they needed every hand to chip in. And they insisted upon paying him him, worth billions.

  The rooster in the net was getting decidedly fractious. Max carried him behind the cabins to the chicken pen. He dropped the bird inside, leaning over the fence to untie the net. The bird strutted off without a backward glance.

  Max walked around to the far side of the chicken pen and ducked under a lean-to. The villagers let him keep his motor scooter there. He slung a leg over the bike and gave it some throttle. If he thought to scare the rooster when he zoomed out and past the pen again, he was disappointed.

 

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