At the Midnight Hour (10 page)

“What were you doing in there?” he asked her sharply.

She looked at him blankly. “That’s my room.”

He appeared genuinely shocked. “So that’s the way it is. I guess I should have known. One doesn’t exactly hire a nanny of your years for her ‘experience.’”

Liz looked at him with wide eyes, outrage immediately bristling at the blatant insinuation. “And just what do you mean by that?” she demanded.

“Oh, come on,” Blaine said with a careless gesture of his hand. “You can’t tell me you’re staying in the room adjoining Richard’s and you’re not involved with him. But honestly, you could have just admitted it straight out. I wouldn’t have thought any less of you.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” Liz told him firmly. “My room doesn’t adjoin Richard’s, it adjoins Andrew’s. And speaking of Andrew, I have an appointment with him to make brownies. So if you will excuse me—”

“Wait a minute,” Blaine said sharply, grabbing her arm as she tried to push past him. “Let me get this straight. Are you telling me that Andrew has the room adjoining this one?”

“Of course,” she informed him, her voice prim.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Blaine breathed to himself, relinquishing his grip on her arm. “Richard actually went ahead and did it. He talked of it for the longest time, but I hadn’t realized he’d actually done it.”

“Done what?”

“Changed the rooms,” Blaine explained slowly. “You, my dear—and Andrew—are now living in what used to be the master suite. Split rooms, of course. You have to remember just how old this house is. After the accident, Richard talked of moving out of the suite. For a while, he even muttered about boarding the whole thing up. But I guess he went with a little redecorating instead. I wonder where the old boy is holed up now.”

“Wait a minute,” Liz echoed this time, a frown furrowing her forehead. “You’re telling me that I’m in Alycia’s half, and Andrew is in Richard’s half?”

“Yes. That’s it.”

She couldn’t help herself; she shivered. She had a six-year-old waking her up in the middle of the night because a “she” ghost was in his room, and now she learned that she was occupying the rooms of a woman who had been murdered.

Oh, she was definitely a long way from Maddensfield now.

“What was she like?” Liz found herself asking suddenly. “Richard’s wife, I mean.”

“Alycia?”

“Yes.”

“What? You’ve never asked him about her?”

She gave Blaine a narrow look. “It’s hardly a simple thing to bring up. Besides, I’m just the nanny, and it’s really none of my business. I’m only curious, that’s all.”

“She was beautiful,” Blaine said abruptly, and his eyes were no longer looking at Liz, but peering back into the past. “She was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.”

“How so?” Liz prodded.

“Her hair was exactly like Andrew’s,” Blaine said. “Her eyes, too, that delicate China blue color. She had perfect, refined features, with just a hint of vulnerability. Men are real suckers for that kind of thing.”

His lips curled a little with the last words, and Liz couldn’t miss the undertone of self-loathing. She looked at him intently, trying to picture this woman. “So all men really liked her?” she said slowly.

“Oh, yeah. When she debuted, every man went after her.”

“But Richard won?”

Blaine only nodded.

“She must have really been something,” Liz said after a bit, “to pull Richard away from his work.” And on the heels of that thought came a thin streak of what seemed suspiciously close to jealously. She pushed the emotion away.

“She did in the beginning,” Blaine was saying. “Hell, you wouldn’t have recognized Richard back then. He actually cut back to forty-hour work weeks. He had a single yellow rose sent to her each and every day. He recited poetry, he danced, he romanced. It was truly amazing. I’d never seen him like that. Never have since, for that matter.”

Liz just nodded, feeling the prickles run uncontrollably through her. Danced? Romanced? She couldn’t even get the man to carry on a conversation.

“He must still miss her,” Liz said shortly. “What a shame.”

Blaine looked at her sharply then. He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Miss her? I honestly doubt that. Richard might have picked out the most beautiful woman for himself, Liz, but he also chose the most ill-suited. Alycia was an outgoing sort of girl. She liked attention, she liked the social scene. She liked to see and be seen. And, well, Alycia liked men. All kinds.” Once more, bitterness laced his words, and the smile that twisted his face looked out of place after seeing his earlier, flirtatious ones. “Richard never was a good judge of women,” he said flatly.

“And you are?” Liz quizzed with an arched eyebrow.

“Hey, I wasn’t the one holed up in a book for all of childhood,” Blaine told her. “One of us had to have a life.”

“If you’re so experienced, why didn’t you marry Alycia?”

But Blaine backed off the suggestion with a wave of his hands. “Marriage? Me? I don’t think so.”

Yet there was something in the way he said those words that made her look at him again. So he wasn’t the marrying type, she could buy that. But let the challenge of the most sought-after woman slip by? She definitely couldn’t see
that.
And all at once she wondered just how deep the sibling rivalry between Blaine and Richard ran. One brother was bookish and hardworking. The other was a playboy and fun-loving. But the bookish one had gotten the girl, at least, temporarily. Somehow, she just couldn’t see that sitting well with Blaine. God knows, if last night’s dinner had been anything to go by, there was tension between the two.

“I really need to get downstairs,” she said finally. “But thanks for the conversation.”

Blaine nodded, his eyes moving past hers to stare at the door she’d closed behind her. He frowned. “Fine, fine,” he said almost absently, then he looked down at his clothes. “I ought to be getting to bed myself.”

Liz’s eyes widened at the apparent indication he’d just returned from last night’s revelries. He and his gang were definitely a fast crowd. Shaking her head, she brushed past him and continued down the hall. When he called out behind her, she turned. “Liz, since your room does adjoin only Andrew’s, I take this to mean that you and Richard aren’t involved, correct?”

She managed a small smile. Involved? No. They were only two strangers who were drawn to the library by firelight, two strangers who had shared a kiss or two that had made matters worse.

Richard had once danced, and romanced a woman. The words came to her unbidden, taunting her. Underneath that steely reserved man lay the heart of a romantic. She wanted to know that man, she thought suddenly, her forehead furrowing once more. She wanted to know what made his features so grim at night. She wanted to know what kept him awake in the early-morning hours.

And she wanted to know what thoughts crept into his mind when he looked at his sleeping child with such heartrending yearning.

She wanted to know the real Richard Keaton.

Blaine was still looking at her with expectant eyes.

“No,” she said slowly. “We aren’t involved.”

She continued her way downstairs.

* * *

Promptly at two, Liz led Andy to the left-wing tower with the promised plate of brownies in hand. For all of Andy’s previous enthusiasm to see his father’s lab, now that the moment had finally arrived, his face was tight with tension. He’d been silent all morning, dark circles rimming his eyes from the long night before. Liz had actually begun to wish he would rattle off his incessant statistics, anything other than this strained silence.

“Are you excited?” she asked him now.

He nodded, but the look on his face negated the gesture.

“Come on, Andy,” she tried. “We’re visiting your father in his lab. You can see what he does, where he works. It’ll be great.”

In point of fact, she wasn’t so sure. Given the family’s conversational abilities, she had already figured out that it would be a long afternoon for her. But she was determined to get the two to interact. There was still Richard’s threat of sending Andy to a boarding school, something that she believed more than ever would be disastrous for the child. The father and son needed to become better acquainted. From what she’d seen, both were brilliant. They ought to fit together perfectly.

They were nearing the top of the three stories of long winding stairs. Chilly drafts swept by them every now and then, but for the most part, the old tower was better lit and heated than the rest of the house. The carved stone steps were worn in places, an indication, Liz figured, of how much time Richard spent going to and from his lab.

At the top of the stairs was a solid wooden door. Giving Andy one last reassuring look, Liz raised her hand and knocked. Abruptly, the door opened.

Richard stood there, dressed in dark blue slacks and a blue and white pin-striped shirt. His face, while as controlled as ever, seemed extra tense. Liz had the sneaking suspicion he was probably just as nervous as his son.

She smiled a friendly, easy smile, and thought her face might split from the effort.

“Good afternoon. Here we are. Oh, and, of course, the brownies.” She handed him the plate with hands that were only trembling mildly. He looked at it dully, as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. Then, seeming to collect himself, he stepped back, motioning them to enter while he set down the plate on a nearby table. Taking a deep breath, Liz led Andy into the room.

It certainly wasn’t what she’d expected. Somehow, in her mind, she had pictured something scattered and random like a mad scientist’s lab filled with bubbling test tubes and Bunsen burners. Instead, laid out before her was a very efficient, well-organized work area. The circular expanse of the room had been broken into three main areas. On the right was a large desk on top of which sat a sizable and modern-looking computer, as well as a phone and a fax machine. Straight ahead was a long white table covered by large equipment that sported a multitude of dials and long dangling attachments. To the left of it sat a huge wooden table that was covered with reams of paper. Along the wall a curved shelf system held jars filled with various materials and oils, while what looked to be rocks were scattered throughout the room.

The biggest surprise, however, was the full nautilus system and the StairMaster directly next to the door. Liz found herself sneaking a look at Richard’s well-toned physique with new insight. Unbidden, her eyes drifted down to his hands, all sorts of thoughts—thoughts she’d sworn not to have after last night—flitted through her head. She cast them off viciously. When had she become such a fool?

She looked over to see Andy taking in the lab with huge eyes.

Turning to Richard, she forced her shoulders to relax and the smile to reappear on her face. Another minute longer, and they would be able to slice up the tension in the room and serve it with side orders of stark nervousness.

“It’s very impressive,” she told him, keeping her voice easy as she motioned to the room. “Could you give us a small tour?”

Richard nodded, looking from her determined face to Andrew’s intense eyes. He could feel a small tremor again, the distinctly unfamiliar feeling of nervousness. Damn it, whatever had possessed him to agree to this? He didn’t have time for these types of things. And he didn’t like standing here with this woman in his lab. It was too intrusive, he thought sharply. He wanted some area untouched by her damn smile. One place where he could be and not remember her lips beneath his own, or that look of anguish cutting through her eyes.... His jaw tightened, and he forced his attention back to Andrew instead.

The child was looking at him with that intense look that tore at him. Even he could tell the child wanted to adore him. He didn’t want that, but he seemed powerless to stop it. Damn. What had he gotten himself into?

But both remained looking at him. There was no backing out now. Keeping his face expressionless, he motioned to the desk.

“This is where I work,” he began tonelessly. “As I’ve mentioned before, I’m trying to find a new dielectric for a supercapacitor. Originally, I began by manipulating some of the more common substances used as dielectrics—”

“Mica, aluminum oxide and tantalum,” Andy rattled off, interrupting him.

Liz could only stare at the child, while Richard nodded his head approvingly. He looked at the boy with surprise. “Very good. Those are some of the more prominent examples.”

Andy ducked his head in a sudden rush of shyness, and in spite of himself, Richard almost smiled at the boy. Once, he’d probably looked just like that, he realized. Once, he’d wanted so badly to learn, while being embarrassed by how much he already knew. He was tempted to lay a hand on Andrew’s shoulder, and only held back at the last minute. Distance, Richard. Distance.

“As I was saying,” Richard began again, trying to recapture his toneless voice. “I began by examining the mica, aluminum oxide and tantalum that Andrew just mentioned. But after some brief experimentation, I realized the only way I would ever get the storage capacity I needed was to find a new substance altogether. With the computer here, I’m trying to model some different possibilities. I still have a ways to go, I’m afraid.”

Andy nodded, his serious eyes blinking rapidly behind his glasses as he followed his father around the room. Liz watched the child, keeping slightly behind. It was obvious to her that he was enthralled by the lab and the work Richard was describing. Even she found herself intrigued. She’d never known anyone who was looking for an entirely different substance to serve as a battery. What if he succeeded? What would it be like to drive around in a solar car?

“What does the equipment over there do?” she asked, wanting to keep the conversation moving.

Richard nodded, his eyes still not quite able to meet her own. He concentrated on Andrew instead and the boy’s quick blinking blue eyes. He really did look so much like Alycia. And yet, when he blinked like that... Richard had to shake the notion away. It was pointless to look for himself in the boy. He knew better.

He led them over to the second workstation he had set up. “This is where I test the substances,” he explained, pointing to a small black box with several knobs and a small, lined display screen. “This first, smaller box is an LCR meter.”