Open Invitation?

by Karen Kendall

  “She’s not my—” Dan shut his mouth. It sure would be nice if she’d be his girlfriend.

  “I can tell by the way she looks at you that she loves you.”

  “Say what? Bull. Claire, Lil is my, um, etiquette consultant.” Damn, does that sound lame or what? “I wouldn’t even know her, if Mama hadn’t tricked me.”

  “Your etiquette consultant? You mean you paid her to come with you?” Claire looked upset.

  He nodded. “I mean, I’d like her to be more than that, but we’re still figuring that part out, if you know what I mean.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Honestly, I don’t.” Claire moved to the door. “Just promise me that you won’t let her change you in any way that counts. I don’t care if you use the right fork at tomorrow’s banquet.”

  “I do,” Dan said quietly. “I’m still your brother, honey. But I don’t want anyone to have to apologize for me. Not ever again. And if Lil can help me accomplish that, she is worth her weight in gold.”

  LIL WAS WORTH her weight in gold in a hundred other ways, too, Dan reflected as he escorted her downstairs for drinks and dinner. She looked gorgeous tonight in a red silk cocktail dress with an asymmetrical neckline, and pearls that glowed against her warm, honey-colored skin.

  She had legs to die for, and he tried not to think of them wrapped around him, as it was neither the time nor the place.

  He himself wore a dark suit with a silk tie and a snowy-white shirt. His shoes and his manners were polished to perfection. Lil had nodded with approval upon seeing him, but she seemed subdued—sad?—for some reason.

  “You feeling all right?” Dan asked her.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just a little jet-lagged, thanks.”

  She’d seemed stiff and formal ever since they’d woken up together, and he didn’t think it was due to jetlag. But he didn’t press her.

  The housekeeper, Mrs. Winger, led them to a grand reception room at the back of the house, where French doors had been thrown open to an elegant, covered back porch and carefully tended gardens surrounding a fountain.

  Louella and Nigel were already there and a maid inquired as to what they’d all like to drink.

  Dan placed his two wrapped packages on a low table. At his mother’s raised brow, he explained. “Just a couple of small gifts for the happy couple.”

  Louella was dressed in royal-blue, and Nigel in a dark suit much like his own. They chit-chatted until the maid came back in with a large tray. She’d brought their drinks, but also a large pitcher with margarita glasses. Dan stared at it in disbelief, while next to him, Lil stiffened.

  “Your sister, Daniel, requested that we serve Texas margaritas in your honor,” Mama said through a painfully bright smile. Nigel grunted with disapproval.

  “How thoughtful of her,” Dan said, his lips twitching. There was obviously a domestic skirmish going on behind the scenes, and Claire had just won this round. He turned to Lil. “Margarita for you, darlin’?”

  Her beautiful black eyes snapped at him, and her color rose. “No, thank you.”

  She seemed wooden, almost a caricature of the Miss Manners he’d first met in her Connecticut office. The warmth, wit and sexiness that he’d seen begin to blossom in her was nowhere to be seen. Had he failed some test of hers without even knowing it? Dan’s jaw tightened, but he tamped down the stirrings of anger. This was neither the time, nor the place for that, either.

  As the guests began to arrive, he was half gratified, half irritated when Mama went out of her way to introduce him as her “marvelously successful rancher son from Texas,” and gush about how proud she was of him.

  She’d certainly never told anyone she was proud of him when he’d worn scuffed boots, jeans and T-shirts. But now that he sported a thousand-dollar suit, she adored him.

  He told himself he was being irrational. Wasn’t this what he’d wanted? To force her to acknowledge him? To stand tall in her eyes? Why was the taste of victory so bitter?

  Lil mingled easily with every guest, knowing just the right thing to say and charming everyone she met. She was charming to him, too. Yet she treated him with the same amount of politeness that she treated these total strangers. His anger at her grew.

  How could she hold him at arm’s length after the things they’d experienced together? After she’d thrashed and whimpered in his bed? After he’d been inside her and all over her?

  The maid brought out a gorgeous cheese tray, a sliced fruit tray, a platter of pâtés. Then, looking around nervously, she brought out a huge plate of…nachos?

  He had to be seeing things. Dan looked down at his drink, wondering if someone had slipped something into it. But no, those were big, fat, greasy nachos dotted with plenty of jalapeños, on a silver plate that looked as if it had been in Lovely Nigel’s family for generations.

  He glanced at his mother’s face, which had begun to mottle with fury. The poor maid dodged her and ran—almost bumping into Claire and Roddy as they made their entrance to the party.

  Everyone clapped and toasted them. Claire wore an angelic blue dress, discreet diamond earrings and a devilish expression. She winked at Dan and smiled when she saw the margarita pitcher and nachos. He shook his head at her.

  Lil glided up and murmured, “I think the entrance of the Tex-Mex food has just instigated World War III.”

  “I’m afraid you may be right.” Dan took her elbow and skimmed her back lightly with his fingers. She shivered but stiffened and then moved away.

  “What’s wrong, Lil?”

  She smiled that polite smile of hers. “Nothing at all. Why?” She smoothed the skirt of her dress unconsciously.

  “Do you regret coming?”

  “Why on earth would you ask me that? I’m having a lovely time—though the mother-daughter feud is a little worrisome.”

  He wasn’t going to get beyond her social facade. That much was clear. His anger grew even more. Why was she making herself unavailable to him?

  Suddenly he knew the answer. Her job was almost finished. She’d had her fun with him, but the time was fast approaching when they’d part ways—and she had no intention of seeing him again because he wasn’t refined enough for her. She’d taught him to fake it. But she’d seen the raw material, and just like his mother she rejected that.

  He wasn’t good enough for Miz Lilia London, and she was letting him know that, in her ever-so-polite way.

  Dan didn’t try to touch her again. What was the point? She was only here earning a paycheck, making sure the monkey didn’t fart at the dinner table or swing from the chandelier. How could he have thought there might be anything else between them?

  Dan avoided talking to Lilia as much as he could for the rest of the evening, only attending to her as much as etiquette required of him.

  He sat next to her at dinner, but conversed mostly with the lady on his other side. He stood up after dessert and made an articulate and heartfelt toast to Claire and Roddy. And he laughed as loud as anyone when they opened his gag gifts.

  Roddy, the supposedly stuffy aristocrat, blinked twice in shock at the baby-blue Western belt that said, Groom. Then he chortled and donned it with his suit trousers while his father the viscount shouted with mirth. Claire put hers on over her dress, a pink belt that said, Bride. Then they posed for pictures.

  Dan turned toward Lil, delighted with the success of his gifts and wanting to share the moment. But she was occupied with the gentleman on the other side of her, and he belatedly remembered his anger. Share the joke with Lil?

  He was a fool. He knew better than to fall for the Audrey Hepburns of the world. They always wound up with the Cary Grants, not cowboys like him.

  DAN EXCUSED HIMSELF to find the facilities and get a handle on his suddenly dark mood. From what he remembered of his boyhood visit to Leighton House, he knew there was a half-bath near the big, industrially equipped kitchen.

  He stepped out of it a couple of minutes later to hear his mother’s voice, berating someone. “I
don’t care what Claire told you to do, Maria! I’ll thank you to recall that Claire is not the mistress of this household. I am! And I did not sanction that a vile platter of greasy nachos should be brought out to my guests. I am furious, do you hear! In fact, once this evening is over, I’d like you to gather your things and take yourself off. Don’t bother to return.”

  Dan sighed and rounded the corner into the kitchen, where Maria, the maid, was sobbing. This was really his fault. If he hadn’t let the cat out of the bag to Claire, she wouldn’t have directed Maria to serve the nachos.

  “Mama, you shouldn’t take this out on Maria.”

  She whirled and stared at him. “Daniel, this is not your business.”

  “Unfortunately it is my business, Mama. I asked Claire about whether sending me to Finesse was her idea. She denied all knowledge of it and was quite angry that you’d manipulated me, using her as an excuse. You lied to me.”

  Louella cast a frantic look in the maid’s direction. “I’ll thank you, Daniel, not to discuss this in front of the servants!”

  He lost his temper. “I’ll discuss this in front of anyone I wish, even your fancy guests out there. And you know what? Maria isn’t just a servant. She’s a person, someone with feelings.” He turned toward the maid. “Look, darlin’, how about I help you find a new place? If not here, then somewhere else. How’d you like to come live in Texas for a while? See the Wild West?”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief and then the beginnings of a smile dawned through her tears.

  Louella emitted a genteel snarl. “Don’t reward her for her part in this!”

  “Don’t punish her for following orders!” He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and retrieved a business card. “I’m working on puttin’ together a retreat program on my ranch for at-risk boys. We will need someone to help with meals and linens and cleaning. If you’re interested, you get in touch, all right? I’d pay your round-trip flight, room, board and a wage.”

  Louella glowered at her as Maria accepted the card. “Don’t think you’ll get a reference from me, young lady,” she said in a voice shaking with rage.

  “She don’t need your reference, Mama. Go on, get outta here, Maria. God forbid my mother should lift a finger to clean up after her own party. We’ll manage without you.”

  “How dare you, Daniel?”

  “How dare you, Mama? Over the years you’ve gone from misguided to stuck up and dishonest and now you’re verging on becoming just plain mean. Take a good look at yourself and cut it out before it’s too late. You want to be one of those nasty old ladies with a face like a sphincter? The ones who can’t wish anything nice for anyone?”

  She opened her mouth and gaped at him like a guppy.

  “You left Dad and me for a more glamorous lifestyle. You’ve always been embarrassed about your past, and me because I’m part of that past. But because you couldn’t erase me, because Claire and I happen to love each other, you thought you’d polish me up and let me think it was her who was embarrassed. I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out from the get-go.

  “It’s always about you, Mama! You didn’t think about the wreck of a man you left behind. You never thought to worry that your son and your husband might have needed you.”

  “That’s not true! I felt awful—”

  He held up a hand. “You know, this has all been water under the bridge for years, now. There’s no point in discussing it. But I do want to discuss your lying and scheming and manipulating.”

  “Daniel, it was for your own good—”

  “Bullshit! You sending me to Finesse had nothing to do with my own good, and I won’t tolerate you saying so. You’re my mother and I’ll always love you, but you either apologize to me right now, or I will leave after the wedding tomorrow and never speak to you again. Do you hear me?”

  She stared at him.

  “I’m done being your disappointing son. The one that needs fixing before you can love him. The one that needs charm school or new clothes or a job that don’t require him to get dirty.

  “I’m done. D’you hear me?”

  For a moment his only response was a stricken silence. Then tears formed in Louella’s eyes and she swallowed hard.

  He watched her almost impersonally as she tried to find the words, as she struggled for what was left of her spirit under all the pretense and denial. He was actually surprised when she did.

  “I’m sorry, Danny.”

  That should have been enough, but it wasn’t.

  “You’ve made me feel like shit all these years,” he said. “Like I’m not good enough. Well, maybe the truth is that a person of your character ain’t good enough for me.”

  She stared at him, her mouth working.

  He stared right back.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  “Yeah? Well I’m glad you’re sorry.” He turned his head away from her, knowing he should find some grace and put his arms around her and give her a hug, but he just couldn’t. “Thank you for the apology.”

  She nodded, unable to speak.

  “Now I’m going back out there to have me one of those margaritas you’ve served ‘in my honor.’ And I’m having some of those nachos, too, because they sure beat the hell outta cucumber sandwiches and stinky Stilton.”

  19

  THE DAY OF the wedding dawned bright and sunny. As Lil understood things, it was Roddy’s father who’d made it possible for the wedding ceremony to be held in the famous, spectacular St. Paul’s Cathedral. Architect Christopher Wren’s masterpiece and burial site of Lord Nelson, the Cathedral stood three hundred fifty-six feet high at the summit of Ludgate Hill. Directly across the Thames the Tate Gallery and the Globe Theatre were visible.

  Lil sat with an uncharacteristically quiet Dan in one of the front pews, and smiled at the irony: the man who’d been an impossible country bumpkin was responsible for taking her to the most elegant occasion she’d ever experienced.

  She looked fondly at him when she knew he wouldn’t notice. He looked incredible in his gorgeously cut tuxedo of the finest, lightweight, black wool. She didn’t approve of the black dress Western boots on his feet, but how could he have refused the bride’s request? And the bolo string tie became him; it really did.

  Louella had taken one look at him and emitted a small shriek. He’d gazed at her calmly, turned his hands palm-up and shrugged. “Claire specially asked me, to, Mama. What d’you want me to do?”

  Lovely Nigel shut his eyes against the preposterous sight.

  Lil touched their shoulders and said gently, “Pretend he’s a Scotsman, wearing the ceremonial kilt. Same thing, really. Texas is its own country. And the president has made cowboy-style quite chic. I attended the Inaugural Ball, you know.”

  Louella and Nigel relaxed, and wanted to know all about the Ball…

  Now the ceremonial music began, and the last stragglers among the guests were hurried in on the arms of the attendants.

  The nave of St. Paul’s was enormous, but somehow guests filled it almost to capacity, along with candles and flowers. Almost every woman wore a lovely hat, the array of jewels was breathtaking and the architecture of the cathedral, of course, was simply unrivaled. Lil would never forget this wedding.

  The wedding march began and she and Dan stood up along with everyone else in the church. They all turned in anticipation of the bride’s entrance.

  Claire looked exquisite, a glowing, rounder-faced Princess Di, though her dress was very different from the royal princess’s. The white gown was tailored to her body, simple and stunning, with pearls sewn around the sweetheart neckline. More pearls dangled from her ears.

  But her smile was the only adornment she needed, and it lit St. Paul’s even from behind her veil.

  At the altar, Roddy’s hair was combed neatly for once and he looked euphoric, utterly certain that Claire was the woman of his dreams.

  Lil got misty-eyed just looking at them. Dan actually dashed a tear away from his cheek. She wan
ted to squeeze his arm, rub his back…but a tension had been growing between them and touching him in that way didn’t seem appropriate right now.

  She watched another tear roll toward his macho, sexy, irreverent cowboy mouth, and he dashed this one away, too—along with her last delusion that she hadn’t fallen completely and utterly in love with the man.

  Oh, dear God, no. Lil, you’re hopeless. He is so wrong for you.

  Tears of confusion and self-recrimination formed in her own eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Lil adjusted her hat and dug for a tissue, finding Dan’s hand extended with a clean handkerchief instead. That made her want to bawl even more.

  Grateful that the ceremony gave her a valid excuse to cry, she allowed herself to indulge a little before she got control over herself.

  Now you stop that, young lady. Nana’s voice echoed in her ear, and following patterns of the past, she listened.

  The service was excruciatingly formal, the language old-fashioned as befit a wedding in St. Paul’s. Lil found it lovely and wondered what sort of good luck charm Claire had sewn into the hem of her dress, in the English tradition.

  And then all too soon it was over, the vows and rings exchanged. Roddy and Claire were husband and wife, and exited the church bound for a new life together, starting with their wedding reception in the grand ballroom of Blackthorne House, his ancestral town home.

  Blackthorne House was larger than Leighton House but somehow less imposing. It was also a great deal more shabby-chic, though pains had obviously been taken to decorate the ballroom itself.

  It was obvious that the Blackthornes had a great many dogs, even though they weren’t present for the festivities. For the house, though clean, was full of Eau de Canine. Lil smiled and wondered what breeds they were. She thought, in fact, that when she returned to Connecticut, she’d like not only a dog, but also a cat.

  Nana Lisbeth hadn’t been able to abide animals in the house, but Lil was tired of living entirely alone. And unlike Claire, she didn’t think she’d be getting married anytime soon. She smiled wistfully.