Authors: Janet Dailey
Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary, #Western Stories, #Suspense Fiction, #Domestic fiction, #Montana, #Ranch life, #Women Ranchers - Montana, #Calder family (Fictitious characters), #Women ranchers
Calder Promise (10 page)
The gleam in his eyes had her pulse quickening. “Fascinating,” she murmured, her own libido stimulated by the subject matter.
“As a footnote, I might also mention that there is some indication that installation of the cardholders occurred around the time that your Lady Elaine lived here. However, it’s difficult to say whether they were installed at her direction.”
A soft laugh rolled from Laura’s throat. “Something tells me I would have liked that woman.” She started into the room, then paused, giving him an over-the-shoulder look, one hand on the door. “By the way, does Crawford Hall have any resident ghosts?”
That lazily sexy smile curved his mouth again. “If it does, I’ve never met them. Why do you ask?”
She arched one eyebrow at him, an expression that was both subtly provocative and suggestive. “I was just wondering whether I might have any surprise visitors tonight.”
“One never knows, does one?” There was something delightfully wicked in his expression. Desire fluttered in her stomach in response to it. “Your luggage will be up directly. Drinks will be served in the library around seven. Someone will be about to show you the way.”
“Drinks at seven. I’ll be there.”
The elevator clanked to a stop, and the doors clattered open, signaling Max’s arrival on the second floor as Laura entered her assigned bedroom.
An ornately carved four-poster bed dominated the spacious room, one of several furniture pieces that looked to be from another century. On the opposite side of the room, chairs and a cushioned settee were grouped around the fireplace, flanked by bookshelves. Laura wandered over to idly peruse the titles.
As promised, her luggage was delivered within minutes, accompanied by a motherly gray-haired maid named Maude who’d come to assist with the unpacking and press any items that required it. All was handled in short order, leaving Laura ample time to shower and change before dinner.
Twenty minutes later she emerged from the private bath clad in a kimono-style silk robe and busily toweling the worst of the wetness from her hair. She noticed the tea service that now occupied a table in the sitting area and realized the maid must have brought it in while she was in the shower.
As she crossed to it, she caught the sound of an arriving vehicle. Having already ascertained that her bedroom occupied the front side of the manor house, Laura indulged her curiosity and detoured to the nearest window. When she looked out, she saw a compact sedan park near the front entrance. A woman climbed out of the driver’s side. One look at her flaming red hair and Laura knew she was looking at Sebastian’s sister.
The mantel clock in the library chimed. Sebastian glanced at it, noting the time was half past six o’clock, and splashed some tonic in the glass with his freshly poured gin. From the hallway came the sound of approaching footsteps. Recognizing that quick-striding walk, Sebastian poured a second drink. With one in each hand, he turned as his sister Helen swept into the library.
“Is that for me? Jolly good.” She all but snatched the drink from his hand. “You have no idea how much I need this. I almost had Grizwold fetch one to my room.” She took a healthy sip of it. “Mmm, delicious,” she declared, then paused, her brown eyes opening wide. “Grizzy did tell you I arrived, didn’t he? I instructed him to inform you. I dashed straight to my room so I could tidy up before your guests caught a glimpse. They are here, aren’t they?”
“They came about half past four or thereabouts,” Sebastian confirmed.
“That’s good.” She sank into a leather armchair and reclined against its thickly cushioned back with a kind of graceful exhaustion. “I had the most bloody awful day. Two of my workers didn’t show up this morning, leaving me dreadfully shorthanded. And I had these two huge trees that absolutely had to be planted. It took all of us to do it. The instant the last one was in place, I dashed to my car and flew here, so you can imagine the state I was in when I arrived. My blouse, my trousers, I had smudges of dirt everywhere. I certainly wasn’t a fit sight to be seen by your guests.”
Sebastian listened without interrupting. Helen, his junior by two years, always had a tendency to babble nonstop when she was nervous. And her day had obviously been a stressful one.
“I noticed when I drove in that the grounds looked immaculately groomed,” she rattled on. “I must remember to compliment Leslie and his crew on a job well done. I had hoped to arrive early enough to inspect everything, but that simply wasn’t to be. Although I did notice there were no flowers in the front urns. That needs to be rectified. I hope your guests didn’t remark on it.”
“I doubt they noticed.” Sebastian idly swirled the gin and tonic in his glass, then lifted the glass to her in an affectionate salute. “Thank you for the use of your crew in tidying up the grounds. I was remiss in not saying that before now.”
“It’s important that the old place look prosperous even if it isn’t. If not for your guests, then for . . .” She paused, her glance flying to him, her eyes dark with worry. “It is so utterly awful that you have been put in such a difficult position. Losing Charlie and Sarah—and the children, too—it was so dreadfully painful. And now for you to be faced with this . . .”
“No one ever claimed that the fates are kind, Helen,” he said in a voice that was gentle and resigned to the situation.
“They have been horribly unkind to this family,” she declared and took a quick swallow of her drink, then looked at him again with quiet concern. “Are you quite certain you want to go through with this? Isn’t there some other way?”
“Believe me, I have explored every possible alternative.” He smiled to deflect her concern.
A heavy sigh slipped from her. “Naturally you have,” she acknowledged and went quiet for a moment, then sat forward, clasping her drink in both hands, an earnestness in her posture. “I love this old place as much as you do, Sebastian, but I can’t bear the thought of you being unhappy the rest of your life.”
His smile widened. “You haven’t met her.” He raised a finger. “Let me correct that. You have seen her before.”
“When?” Skepticism riddled her question.
“Every time you looked at that painting.” He pointed to a portrait, one of several that hung on the only wall in the room with shelves.
Swiveling in her seat, Helen glanced at the wall, then sharply back at Sebastian. “Are you referring to the portrait of Lady Elaine?”
He nodded. “In many respects the resemblance is almost uncanny.” The distant clatter of the elevator coming to life made its way into the library. “I believe our guests are about to descend on us.”
Helen gave no sign that she had heard either his remark or the ancient elevator. Her attention had returned to the portrait of an elegantly gowned woman somewhere in her early thirties.
She turned to Sebastian with a frown. “Wasn’t it Lady Elaine who was an American?”
“As I recall, yes.”
She cast another considering glance at the painting. “She was quite beautiful.”
“So is Laura Calder,” he stated and added with a remembering smile. “She is also intelligent and audaciously charming.”
Her head lifted in sharpened attention as she gave him the look of a sister who well understood her older brother. “Do I detect a note of interest on a personal level?”
“You do,” Sebastian confirmed, aware of the chatter of voices that grew steadily closer.
“That’s reassuring.” Her smile showed a new ease with the situation. “Perhaps this will work satisfactorily after all.”
“You speak as if it is all but accomplished. It isn’t,” he said and paused for effect. “I have a rival.”
“Ah.” She relaxed against the chair back. “Is this the reason you were so insistent that I be present this weekend? You invited him as well, didn’t you? And you want me to keep him—shall we say—otherwise occupied?”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” he admitted, eyes twinkling.
“What a devilishly clever strategy,” Helen declared with an approving smile. “Beat the opposition by never giving him an opportunity to win.”
“Desperate situations require desperate measures,” Sebastian replied on a slightly serious note as the sound of voices mingled with the footsteps in the outer hall. He raised his glass in a toasting gesture. “Wish me luck.”
In an athletically fluid motion, Helen rose from the armchair and crossed the distance between them to clink glasses. “Only good luck,” she said. “This family has already had its share of bad.”
As they took a sip of their drinks, the butler Grizwold appeared in the open doorway, paused, and made a sweeping gesture, signaling his charges to precede him into the room. Brother and sister turned as one to greet their arriving guests.
Max Rutledge was the first to roll into the library, with Tara walking beside his wheelchair. Sebastian’s glance skipped over them to Laura, elegantly stunning in a dress of raw silk that flattered her feminine curves. The only sour note was the sight of her on Boone Rutledge’s arm, laughing up at him in that seductively provocative way she had. Sebastian felt the stirrings of possessiveness. The heat of his feelings took him aback.
After the obligatory introductions were completed, Grizwold unobtrusively determined the drink preferences of the rest of the party. The entire time, Helen had difficulty taking her eyes off Laura.
“I didn’t entirely believe you, Sebastian,” she said, sliding him a quick glance. “But it is true. The resemblance is quite amazing.”
“Shortly before you joined us,” Sebastian explained to Laura, “I had remarked to my sister that your likeness to Lady Elaine was so striking that one would almost think that you are a reincarnation of her.”
“Where is the portrait?” Laura asked. “I for one am curious to see it.”
“Directly behind you, on the wall.” Taking her by the arm, Sebastian turned her toward it, effectively separating her from Boone.
Laura’s gaze went unerringly to the painting. Even she was surprised by the resemblance that went beyond merely sharing the same hair and eye color. It was like looking at her mirror image, the same high cheekbones, straight nose, cleanly angled jaw, even the same enigmatic smile curving femininely lush lips.
“It’s almost eerie,” Laura marveled.
“I never dreamt the resemblance would be so strong,” Tara declared. “It has to be more than a coincidence that Laura is virtually a replica of both Lady Crawford and Madelaine Calder. They had to be the same woman.”
“It would seem so,” Sebastian agreed, standing just behind Laura’s right shoulder. He tipped his head in her direction. “Now here you are, Laura, standing in Crawford Hall just as your ancestor may have done all those years ago. It almost makes one believe in destiny.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” she said thoughtfully, then slid a backward glance at him, a provocative gleam in her dark eyes. “Although I’m here merely as a guest, while this was Lady Elaine’s home.”
“True,” Sebastian conceded with a slight smile. “Though it does make one wonder if you aren’t meant to follow in her footsteps.”
“I’ll have to think about that,” Laura replied coyly, intrigued by the possibility yet too wise to commit herself to anything.
Oblivious to their conversation, Tara continued her study of the portrait. “Do you realize, Laura, that if your hair was styled like hers, you would look identical?”
“You know, you could be right.” Boone’s voice intruded as he moved to Laura’s side.
As if prompted by Tara’s remark, he tunneled a hand under her hair and lifted its loose length up and away from her face, holding it in a rough semblance of the ringletted style worn by the woman in the painting.
“You really could be her double, Laura,” Boone stated.
“I could, couldn’t I?” Her chin came up a little higher, echoing the proud tilt the artist had captured on canvas.
Max Rutledge rolled his chair forward to join them. “How much is that painting worth, Sebastian?”
His shoulders lifted in a vague shrug. “The work is by an obscure artist, so its value is mainly sentimental.”
“Name your price and I’ll pay it,” Max stated, making it clear he was accustomed to getting what he wanted.
Sebastian deflected the offer with a smooth smile. “That is extremely generous of you, but as I said, its value is sentimental. I wouldn’t consider taking advantage of a guest in such a manner.”
“I’m not going to try to talk you into it. But the offer stands if you should change your mind in the future,” Max replied, choosing not to make an issue of it, for the time being at least. Instead he shifted his attention to Boone and Laura. “I rather fancy the idea of that painting hanging above the fireplace in our living room back home, don’t you, Boone? ’Course I’d gladly settle for having the real McCoy instead.”
Laura shook her head at him in mock exasperation. “Max, I know you are used to controlling everything. But you remind me of a trick horse in those old western movies, always nudging the cowboy into the girl’s arms. Stop nudging.”
“What’s wrong with helping things along a little?” Max argued. “After all, you’re the one who claimed Boone was your hero.”
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