Night Music (19 page)

She shook her head. “I’m not wrong. You know I’m not.”

“I don’t know a damn thing except this.” He brought his mouth down on hers, his kiss almost savage in his desperation to show her the truth of
his feelings. He hadn’t meant to reveal to her how he felt, but nothing could keep it buried.

To his surprise her lips parted and she kissed him back, as desperately as he. Her hands gripped his windbreaker, her mouth like fire. He almost clung to her with hope.

“How can you say this is rebellion?” he murmured, kissing her hair.

She pressed her forehead into his shoulder. “Because that’s all it is,” she said, her voice breaking. “That’s all I am to you. You just haven’t realized it yet.”

He tore himself away from her. “If that’s what you want to believe, then go ahead and believe it, dammit!”

She swiped at her face. He realized she was crying, and he hardened his heart against the tears. Women always used tears to their advantage.

Straightening, she turned and left the boat. He watched her go, cursing her silly notions and her stubbornness.

He wasn’t rebelling, he told himself. He wasn’t.

But a little voice inside him rebelliously wondered if she was right.

“We’re married!” Marsh exclaimed.

Hilary instantly burst into tears. Marsh chuckled at the thought that his granddaughter would pop her eyes when he told her he and Lettice were calling from Rio de Janeiro, on their sudden honeymoon. “I knew you’d be happy for us,” he went on into the phone.

Hilary didn’t answer, and something in his granddaughter’s crying sparked an uneasiness in
him. Puzzled, he said, “You
are
happy, aren’t you, Hilary?”

The wails went up about ten decibels. All was definitely not well in Hilary Land.

Marsh immediately handed the receiver to his bride. “I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with her. You talk to her.”

“Just like a man,” Lettice said.

“You liked certain parts this morning,” he reminded her.

“I take my pleasures where I can get them.”

He harrumphed a reply, then listened as Lettice talked soothingly to his granddaughter, calming her and then probing. All he could discern from the one-sided conversation was that something had happened with Devlin.

“They broke up,” Lettice said when she finally hung up.

“Broke up?” Marsh repeated. “Why would they break up?”

“Because Hilary’s decided she’s Dev’s latest form of rebellion.”

“Dammit, woman!” Marsh roared. “You and your meddling did this!”

Lettice eyed her new husband for a long moment, then said, “Stop bellowing like a wounded bull. My grandson is more wary than a prairie dog poking his head out at buffalo mating time. Somebody had to light a fire under his tail. Hilary unfortunately took it all the wrong way and now can’t see past her nose on this. I’ll call Devlin.”

As she dialed, Lettice scrambled for solutions to this new turn of events. One thing she hadn’t expected was Hilary’s perception and her reaction to it. She supposed she could understand the girl’s hurt—but what did it matter how Devlin got
started, just as long as he did? The transcontinental connection took a few minutes, but finally her grandson was on the other line.

“Marsh and I got married two days ago,” she announced, beginning the conversation with a bang.

“Congratulations.” Devlin’s voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

“You could fake your cheerfulness a little better than that,” she said.

His exasperated intake of breath was audible over the line. “I am happy for you, and tell Marsh I said he’s a fool. Okay?”

“That’s better. Now, what are you going to do about Hilary?”

“Who told you? Her?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Have you talked to her?”

“Why bother? She’s convinced I’m rebelling—”

“Well, of course you were!” Lettice snapped in her own exasperation. “Somebody had to push a few buttons just to get you over the edge.”

“You … Damn you, Grandmother!”

“Oh, stop fussing. You were already on the precipice, silly boy. I leave you two alone for five minutes and you make a disaster of everything.”

“Me!”

“Yes, you. Well, you’ll just have to fix it.”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

“Stop being an ass. All you have to do is prove she’s wrong about how you feel.”

“I don’t have to prove a damn thing!”
Devlin roared.

“I’m not going to have any ears left at this rate,” Lettice muttered, holding the receiver far away. A
loud click came over the wire, then the dial tone. Her grandson had hung up on her.

“Foolish boy,” she murmured, replacing the receiver. No one hung up on her and got away with it.

“How are you going to fix this one?” Marsh asked.

“I’m not,” she said righteously. “I never meddle.”

Marsh burst into laughter.

“I don’t see why I have to go,” Hilary said, crossing her arms over her chest. “And I don’t see why I have to wear this!”

“You have to go because a family member is sponsoring the event, and you
will
do it for Lettice’s sake,” Marsh said, steering the car into the temporary parking lot along the river.

“And you’re wearing that dress,” Lettice added, “because it’s appropriate. Now, uncross your arms before you muss the pleats.”

Hilary reluctantly uncrossed her arms and smoothed out the stiffened silk of her gown. The long skirt was black and hugged her legs, just as the strapless top hugged her torso. A wide band of pleated white satin wrapped around her waist. The dress was beautiful, and Lettice was right about it being appropriate, but she felt half-naked with her shoulders exposed.

When they emerged from the car, Hilary took a deep breath, then had to resist the urge to yank up her bodice. It wouldn’t go anywhere anyway. There wasn’t enough material. At least she wouldn’t be cold as the evening grew longer. This first weekend in September was still hot enough for it to feel like the middle of summer rather than the end. Someone
had had a good idea in holding the charity ball on the docks of Penn’s Landing in Philadelphia.

Why had she come to this thing? she asked herself. Because it was Devlin’s charity ball. Because she was proud of what he was doing. And because she wanted to see him again. Just see him. With their families connected now, she couldn’t avoid a meeting forever. She’d told herself she had to prove she could see him and still stay numb. Now, however, it didn’t seem like such a good idea.

“Are you going to stand there, or does your grandfather have to carry you?” Lettice asked.

“I’d get ten hernias,” Marsh said.

“Thanks,” Hilary muttered.

Lettice looped her arm through Hilary’s. “Come on. He’s not here anyway.”

Hilary gaped as the older woman pulled her forward. “He isn’t?” She immediately shrugged to show her unconcern. “That’s his business.”

“So he said. He’s back in hibernation.” Lettice looked around at the formally dressed crowd. “Who cares as long as he put the money up? We’ve got a good crowd. Now, let’s take ’em for everything they’ve got.”

Hilary chuckled. Knowing Devlin wouldn’t be there made her relax a little. But once they entered the cordoned-off area, her grandparents disappeared to talk with old friends. Although she nodded and said hello to people she knew, she felt like a stranger, accidentally misplaced among her clients. Normally she was on the other end, and she watched, with envy, the waiters circulating with their trays. She didn’t belong here, and in truth she’d never wanted to. What had been a source of bitterness for her grandfather, a source
of eternal hope and frustration for her parents, was only a source of income for her. She felt more aligned to Devlin than to whatever the past had held for her family.

She also found herself watching for one particular man. Her stomach dropped when she thought she spotted him, but she recognized Catherine Wagner-Kitteridge at his side and realized she was looking at Miles, Devlin’s twin. Curious, she studied Miles’s face. While he looked like his brother at first glance, there were many faint differences between them. Miles’s nose was a little smaller, the lines of his face were less prominent, his skin color was lighter, his haircut was more precise. He held himself differently too. In fact he wasn’t a bit like Devlin, she thought.

“Stop it!” she muttered, snatching a long-stemmed champagne glass off the tray of a passing waiter. She took a sip, then wrinkled her nose and stared down at the glass.

It was the cheap stuff. Very cheap stuff.

She smiled, remembering another time with the cheap stuff. Then she forced the memory away and told herself for the millionth time that it never would have worked with Devlin. And just as she had over the past weeks without him, she wished there was some way she could have been proven wrong. Summer was supposed to be all brilliant sunshine and heat, but it would never be that way for her again.

She wandered around for a little while before finding a quiet spot by the quay, stepping carefully so that her heels wouldn’t catch in between the planks. The tall ships, their masts standing proud, were an elegant backdrop to the elegant party. Up close they were even more beautiful, and
she understood why these sailing vessels graced the sea rather than rode it.

Something odd caught her eye a little farther along the dock, and she got up and walked over slowly. As she neared it, her heart thumped painfully. There, among the exquisite ships, was a squat boat with a wide center fly bridge. The name on the stern was
For the Love of Hilary
.

She stared at it in shock, then took a large gulp of champagne. It went down like an octane fire. He had changed the name of his boat. The words rang through her head like a litany.

“You keep drinking that stuff and we’ll have to have your stomach pumped.”

She spun around to find Devlin behind her. He was dressed for the occasion in a white dinner jacket and he looked terrific. But his darkened skin and pronounced crow’s feet proved he was no stodgy businessman. She valiantly resisted the urge to throw herself at him.

“You ordered it, didn’t you?” she said, surprised at the calmness of her voice.

He grinned. “I don’t think anyone’s noticed the difference except you.”

She smiled. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“Who says?”

“Your grandmother.”

“She lies.”

“Yes, I know.”

They were silent for a long moment, neither moving.

“I’m sorry if you were hurt,” he said finally, his gaze searching hers. “But, Hilary, what the hell does it matter how something starts? What matters is how it ends. I like who I am and what I do, and I’m not going to change. I love who you are and
what you do, and I don’t want you to change. But I don’t want to wait sixty years, like our grandparents, before coming to our senses.”

“Neither do I.” She practically flew into his arms, the champagne glass spilling unnoticed to the planks as they embraced. The kiss was fierce and gentle with promise, all at the same time.

She tore her lips from his and spread kisses on his cheeks and jaw and forehead, all the while chanting, “I love you, I love you.”

He nuzzled her throat. “I love you, Hilary. I’ll spend a lifetime making it up to you.”

“You’re damn straight on that,” she murmured.

He laughed, then grew serious. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes,” she said, positive. By changing the name of his boat, he had given her an incredible sign of his feelings and commitment to her. If he could do that, then so could she.

“Let’s go home,” he said. “You can show me how that dress stays up.”

“Trick photography.”

“As long as the rest of you is real.”

“It is.”

“Then let’s go home.”

Epilogue

“This is the last time you get me into one of these damn tuxes,” Dev said as he led his new bride onto the dance floor.

“Quit complaining,” Hilary said, wrapping her gown’s ivory-satin train around her arm. “Ready.”

He waltzed her around for the traditional newlywed dance. “I told you not to let Grandmother go hog-wild over the wedding plans.”

“It made her happy. Now, stop fussing.”

“I’m happy when I’m fussing,” he said, then grinned at her. “But I’ll be happier when we’re naked and on the honeymoon. Can we do that now?”

“No.” She smiled. “Anticipation is everything.”

He leaned forward and whispered, “Everything is me inside you.”

She sighed. “You’ll never change. Thank goodness.”

He pulled her closer, deeply content. He had gone down in flames before love, and he couldn’t find anything more satisfying than loving Hilary.
She had taught him to live with himself again—even to like himself. She had also taught him to stop punishing everyone around him. He still liked the freedom he’d discovered, but he could accept his past and his family again—although he was beginning to have his doubts about his grandmother.

Hell, he thought. Lettice was happy, Hilary was happy, and in a few hours, when he was naked and on his honeymoon, he’d be happy too.

“I haven’t given you my wedding gift yet,” Hilary whispered.