by Angela Hayes
“I was thinking light and airy.” Hope began. “No Danny Boy or any battle marches. There aren’t many surviving from those eras anyway and I don’t want everyone in tears.” Fastening chunks of amethyst at her ears, Hope continued to give orders as she stepped into a pair of nude Miu Miu platform sandals. “Fairydance, Drops of Brandy.”
Pulling my costume from the depths of its plastic confines, I rattled of several song titles. “Barne Lochiel, Castle Kelly. I love Carolyn’s Dream.”
Stopping, I sucked in my stomach turning my back to Faith who was waiting to zip my dress and eager to cut in with ideas of her own. “Baldo Baleerie. It’s a lullaby but not to sappy. Rosaleyn’s Plaid. Morgan Magan.”
Letting my breath out I returned the favor, zipping the back to Faith’s identical dress. Strapless emerald green satin, the bodice was formed by a row of long inverted pleats banded together with a thick belt embroidered with a gold floral design. Tight to the knees the pleats were repeated again as the satin flared out, mermaid style, decorated once again with the same floral gold embroidery.
“Perfect.” Hope declared as we stood side by side, the white eyelet shirt dress she wore falling to mid-thigh. “Let’s go. The caterer should be finishing up. The two of you need to practice.”
Stepping into my gold Jimmy Choo’s I followed dutifully, without protest.
Chapter 23
“Catch Me a Catch”
Danton
“Turn here.” Chanton directed, throwing out her bejeweled arm. “Just follow the drive around. We’ll park in back.”
Doing as told I followed the U shaped drive surrounding the stately stone colonial with its maroon shutters covered in a profusion of climbing white roses. Parking among the various cars already there before us, a sleek silver Audi, a large white Tahoe, a couple of Mercedes, a Cadillac, the caterer’s van- one I recognized, good choice-, a corvette, and a red Alpha Romeo that had my heart skipping a few beats as I brushed a light caress along the hood. The car was a living dream.
“Come along dear.” After thirty years it still scrambled my mind that this woman, continuously recognized from her infamous years in front of the camera, with her rose colored view of life was my mother.
Tall and dark, I showed not the first hint of Irish/French blood that had made my mother’s career. Instead I was the spitting image of my father and in my very mixed opinion, I was acting more like him every day. Unlike my mother I didn’t have a single whimsical, flighty, fairytale bone in my body. Not really a bad thing, since I preferred to stay more grounded in reality and as of right now a bachelor for life.
Trailing behind my mother we made our way across the gravel drive into a well-manicured back lawn where the sounds of a harp and a flute flowed through the open doors of the house.
Passing under an arched bowery of flowers I drew up short at the sight of what I thought was a dog. It was hard to be sure. With its color and size it could just as easily be Babe the Blue Ox!
“Oooh, hello Allie. Aren’t you looking handsome today.” My mother cooed to the dog as if it were a long lost friend, going so far as to even shake the paw that it offered. “Allie, my son Danton. Danton…”
“Laird Alastair Ervin Sloane of Torridon.”
My head snapped up at the familiar and unexpected voice. The dog’s presence had been so demanding of my attention that I hadn’t seen the approach of the body the voice belonged to. But then, I didn’t need to see the body it belonged to, only the eyes.
“Hello Chanton. May I say, you are looking exquisite?”
“Doll, you can say more than that. In fact, I wish you would.” My mother preening under the attention embraced the short haired blonde. “Danton, this is…”
“Hope Howard.” She said with an outstretched hand. “We met last week.”
“You work fast.” My voice was cold, her welcoming smile unwavering as I refused to shake her hand.
“Danton.” My mother gasped, horrified at my lack manners.
“When I need to.” Hope answered without preamble or the least bit of apology.
I turned to my mother, wanting these games to be done with. “Do you know who she is?”
“Why of course dear,” Chanton answered with such nonchalance that I glared at her. “Don’t be mad mon cherie. Hope called late yesterday evening and explained everything.”
“Did she?” Sarcasm laced my voice, “I’m sure it was interesting.”
“Yes it was and if you’d remember yourself for a moment, I’ll explain.”
Arms folded across my chest I waited for her to continue.
“Hope’s sister has done your cousin a great favor. Melanie had been content to ignore Stephen’s infidelities in light of so badly wanting a family that she chose to ignore the lies he fed her in a bid for a single grain of happiness. But I ask you Danton, how can one be happy in the face of a lie? Your cousin will have a true chance at happiness now that this mess with Stephen is behind her.”
Typical, a mere week after she cast off her two timing fiancée, my mother expected Melanie to bounce right back. Too soon in anybody’s book, but I couldn’t argue with the logic she presented. Melanie never would have been content with a man who was unfaithful to her and their wedding vows.
“Did that give Love the right to destroy what should have been a happy day for her?”
“You know your cousin better than that.” My mother chided. “The child is as stubborn as the day is long. Would you have preferred her to realize too late what she’d tied herself too, only to have her blame herself when he turned time and again into the arms of another woman? Because he would have. And would you have her, because she is the type of person, to shoulder all of the blame when the marriage failed?”
I didn’t answer. I wasn’t entirely sure if we were still talking about Melanie or if we were now talking about her.
“How many years of misery would she have had to live through in an attempt to salvage a marriage that was already doomed? I think living through one day that didn’t go according to plan far outweighs the alternative. Don’t you?”
I couldn’t answer that question either, not with so many questions swimming around in my head. Had Melanie ever been happy? Had my mother? Where had it all gone so wrong?
“Now,” My mother ordered. “Consider what you’ve heard and when you’re done greet Alastair properly so that you don’t hurt his feelings, then come join us.”
“Well said Chanton,” Hope nodded, linking their arms in approval. “Now then, tell me how you’ve been.”
I considered my mother’s words as I eyed the dog that is nearly as big as I am. Cocking his large head to the side he seemed to be confused by my inaction; as if no one had ever refused his salutation. With regal bearing he lifted his paw again.
A wedding that wasn’t, a set of identical triplets with mismatching eyes, and a dog that acted more human than most people I knew. I was afraid to ask what else the day had in store for me.
Giving in, I bowed at the waist taking the offered paw. “Pleased to meet you Laird Alastair.”
Despite the early morning heat, the fan cooled shade was pleasant. “Nice house,” I complimented, taking the open seat across from Hope. It was huge, definitely enough room for three. “Do you live here with your sisters?”
“No, it’s just me and Alastair. Faith and Love each have their own places.”
“Are they here?” I asked, attempting to make small talk with the only person I knew besides my mother. I wasn’t in the mood to make friends.
“I’m sure they’re around.”
“So, why all the subterfuge?” I questioned, leaning forward to snag a grape from her plate, popping it in my mouth. “Why am I here? Is this another attempt to get my firm to take your case?”
“I deal very little with museum business, that’s all Love. I am, as you can see, in the match making business and this IS a member’s party.” She intoned, swirling her frosted glass of orange juice. “A handsome unattached mal
e as yourself is quiet a boon at this type of thing.”
“Haha. You can think of a better reason than that.” I challenged.
Hope chuckled. “Of course I can, but that’s not my story to tell.”
“Whose is it then?”
Gesturing with her glass Hope pointed in the direction of the open French doors where a playful composition drifted into a poignant melody, heart piercing in its loveliness. A far off look in her eyes made me her mind had wondered off into a world of its own, no longer here with me on the back porch, but somewhere else entirely.
Pulling herself back, Hope shook her head. “You’ll have to see for yourself. I need to mingle.” Standing to her feet, her strange gaze was replaced with that of a mischievous child bent on foolishness. An expression, it looked so much like the one Love had worn earlier in my office that I was unnerved by it. “Help yourself to a plate, there’s plenty inside.”
Sitting by myself I wondered what the mysterious Hope Howard, by way of my mother had planned. There was only one way to find out and the choice was mine to make. Walk through the open door way into the unknown and find out why I had been brought here. Or walk away.
Never one to turn down a challenge I pushed myself up from my chair, walking into the dim light of Hope’s house and into the unknown.
Here the music was louder, a massive reproduction of Monet’s Women in the Garden decorating the dining room wall to my right. To my left was the kitchen, where vintage cabinets mixed with top of the line stainless steel appliances. Through the kitchen on through the left lay the music room. Pale pink walls and cream colored wood workings framed the room that was dominated by a baby grand piano and life size bust of Venus deMilo. Taking a closer look I found the reason I was here.
Chapter 24
Time To Face The Music
Love
Lost in the music, the weight of Hope’s, clarsach, her Scottish lap harp pressed hard on my thigh. My fingers kissed the strings, the vibrations pulsing through my body. I didn’t need to have my eyes open for my fingers to find purchase on the chords. The words and notes I needed for Forever My Love came like second nature, the Gaelic words rising effortlessly from my breast. I had written this song for Faith back when she was Creideamah and had first met her Ean.
Sitting beside the cold fireplace filled with an urn full of fresh cut tulips, the light warmth of the breeze drifted in through the open windows caressing my bare arms. The sound of Faith’s flute matched those of the harp.
I felt the shift in the air when he walked in. Like static right after the lightning strikes and a half second before the thunder claps. It was tangible in the air. Danton!
It was only the years of ingrained training that kept my hands steady and my voice strong. I kept my eyes shut refusing to drink in the sight of him. Knowing that he was mine, just laying eyes on him, would be my undoing.
I pictured his face in my mind, my fingers aching to feel the touch of his skin a second time, my body yearning to feel the hard plains of his body pressed into my soft curves. Did his body crave the same?
As the song ended, his quiet applause helped me to open my eyes. What I saw took my breath away. He stood there in a white button up shirt, opened at the collar in a pair of thigh hugging blue jeans enveloped in a halo of blue. The most beautiful sight I’d seen in a long time.
My pulse jumped as he neared, began to race when he sat on the loveseat beside me, his face expressionless. My hands, now cast in the same familiar blue hue, faltered on the strings. The longer Danton went without speaking, the tighter my stomach muscles clenched, until I couldn’t take it anymore.
Chapter 25
Crescendo
Danton
“Hello Danton.”
I heard the tiny quiver in her soft voice, the sound affecting me just as much as seeing her did.
I expected to see her, after all she was the hostess’s sister, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. There in the muted pink and white music room Love stood out like a brilliant gem, the music she made rivaling that of any holy choir. Like the two times I had seen her before, her body was unnaturally still. Perched on the edge of the armless she occupied, the small harp she played lay in her lap; her back rigid in what I was beginning to think was her natural posture. Her shoulders were once again bare, alluring in their partial nudity. Eyes closed, her hands and mouth were the only parts of her that moved. I hadn’t understood the language she sang in and didn’t need to. The song could be nothing other than one of love. Heartrending, it was my experience that nothing raised you up and tore you back down into a raveling mess like love did. As the song ended, happy again, lovers reunited, my eyes drunk in Love and her beautiful stillness. I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that wanted to believe that the fall, the one that came with loving, was worth the pain it entailed.
“Love.” I greeted.
“You, ah. You here with someone?” She asked, her hand coming up to push a strand of loose hair behind her ear, her hands unable to resist fiddling with the large gold earring hanging from her lobe.
It was sadistic of me, I know, to enjoy seeing her so flustered. “Something like that.” I smiled.
Her smile was tight, having visibly dimmed at my announcement. “Oh, well. Good. That’s good. Be sure and grab a plate before you leave. I’ve heard the food’s really good.”
“I’ll do that.” Was it just me, or did she sound a touch miffed at the thought of my being here with someone else. Good. As far as payback went it wasn’t much, but it was a start.
“Better hurry. There’s a well-dressed pack of vultures that’ll beat you to it if you aren’t fast enough.”
A snort came from Love’s side drawing her attention. Immediately covering her mouth Faith hacked out one of the fakest lady like coughs I’ve ever heard, pounding her chest for added authenticity.
“Pardon.” She apologized before staring pointedly out the window.
“Oh,” Love shook her head, remembering herself. “Danton. You remember my sister Faith.”
Of course, the getaway driver.
Turning, Faith greeted me politely, a fading blush on her cheeks. “How do you do?”
“Fine, and you?”
“Good. We’re good.”
“Glad to hear it.”
A not so subtle rapping on the window from Hope ended any other conversation that might have occurred at the moment. Flashing me an apologetic smile Faith picked up her flute beginning a fast paced song that Love had no choice but to concentrate on as she joined her.
Chapter 26
You Drive
Love
Just my luck, the man was here with someone.
It was hard, but somehow I managed to resist the urge to ground my teeth together. I guess the shock of his announcement took care of any violent urges I could have come up with had I had time to plan something.
As it was, my mind was doing a fair bit of work on its own wondering why Danton was here. This was one of Hope’s bi-monthly singles gatherings. If he was one of her clients, then he would have recognized her Saturday at the restaurant, but he didn’t. I looked to Faith for the answer, her lips breaking into a smile as she blew into her flute. The catty grin that said it all. I narrowed my eyes at her, two and two adding up perfectly to four. I knew Hope had given in too easily this morning. Turning back to my harp I blew out a breath of my own, my fingers finding purchase as they flew across the strings needed for the spirited Drops of Brandy.
Using eleven centuries worth of deductive experience I concluded that the whole plan had in fact been devised by Hope and that Faith was just an innocent who had been brought along and corrupted by the deviousness of our sister’s mind. Family! I wanted to shout, but held it in. Just as I held in the evil laugh bubbling up inside. Payback was a bitch and Hope was in for a heavy dose of it. She definitely wouldn’t be liking what I had in mind for her payback.
Revenge would be sweet indeed, once I came up with something that is!
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“So, what brings you by?” I asked Danton nearly two hours later, surprised he had stuck around.
My back to him I raided Hope’s kitchen. Starving, I pawed through what was left of the caterer’s offerings. The majority of it was now crumbs. I hadn’t been joking about the vultures.
“I thought you knew.”
Finding a plate I plucked up the last sliver of what had once been a breakfast quiche. “Knew what?”
“Your sister, my mother!”
“Aaah, your mom’s a client.” I guessed, connecting the dots.
“Was.” Danton corrected me. “She re-married two years ago. But truthfully, with her track record, I wouldn’t discount her being one again.”
I quickly swallowed the last of the orange juice washing down the tension filled answer and quiche. “What number?” I wanted to know, casually slipping a crumbled piece of bacon to Alastair under the table.
“Four, not counting my father.”
I nodded, message received. That explained why Danton carried a lot of baggage where the marriage department was concerned. Looks like I have my work was cut out for me. “Did you know?”
“That my mother was using a match maker? Not until we got here. But like I said, with her track record…” He left the thought hanging as he shrugged.
“You figure she could use a little help.” I finished, understanding.
“That’s right.”
I nodded again. Feeling the need to fill the gap of uncomfortable silence I sensed coming, I blurted out a question that had been eating at the back of my mind for days.
“Would you like an apology?” At Danton’s blank look, I hurried to add, “For the wedding? For ambushing you at your office? Take your pick.”
“Would you mean it?”
It was a fair question, one I didn’t have to give any thought to. “Not really.”
“Then no, I don’t want one.”
“Do you need one?” It wasn’t too early to begin healing Danton’s damaged heart.
