Open Invitation? (19 page)

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.

 

D
AN 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.”

T
HE 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 wanted 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.

A brief vision of herself, walking in a long white dress toward Dan Granger, popped into her mind. He wore exactly what he wore right this minute: a tuxedo with boots and a bolo tie.

“Can I get you something to drink, Miz Lil?” he asked her, interrupting her silly fantasy.

“That would be lovely, Dan. Thank you. Champagne, please?”

He nodded and made his way toward a circulating waiter with a tray. His broad shoulders were set off to perfection in the dark wool of the tuxedo, and no man
had ever filled out formal slacks the way he did. She fixated on his backside as if it were a particularly delectable appetizer, and blushed as he turned with two flutes of champagne and caught her in the act.

He raised a sardonic brow at her.

She suddenly found the orchestra fascinating.

“Your bubbly, darlin'.” He loomed over her, extending the glass, and suddenly her hormones rushed to the surface like the tiny bubbles in the flute.

Lil thanked him, accepted the glass and took a quick sip. Her hormones did not belong at Claire's formal British wedding reception.

“Once Claire and Roddy have shown up and taken the floor, I do hope you'll honor me with a dance.”

She hesitated.
Dance with the man and you'll only be torturing yourself, you dimwit.
But it was rude to refuse. “Of course,” she said.

His mouth twisted. “Well, I wouldn't want you to put yourself to any trouble, now, Lil. But I figured that we could show off what we practiced with that French fruit loop, ya know.”

She'd offended him. “Dan, I didn't mean—”

“I know what you meant,” he said coldly. “Don't worry about it.” And he turned on his boot-heel and walked away. She stared after him, miserable, while he found another woman to talk to almost immediately.

It's for the best, Lil. It really is.

 

D
AN DANCED
flawlessly with several other women, while Lil chitchatted with various guests and tried to
pretend she wasn't watching him covertly. How had she gotten herself into this mess?

And why did he seem so angry? He'd told her, days before, that he could take no for an answer. And he had. Pretty gracefully. So what exactly was his problem now?

She knew what
her
problem was. And she needed to solve it by…by…removing her silly, unpredictable, unmanageable heart and dropping it into the punch bowl.

Lil turned from a conversation at a light touch on her arm. A hopeful gentleman was asking her to dance with him. Though she'd rather have told him to go away, she smiled with every pretense of delight and accepted, moving out onto the dance floor with him in a waltz.

A quick glance around told her that Dan, to her relief, was not there. Lil tried to focus on what the gentleman was saying to her, and did not enjoy his hot, sweaty hand on her lower back, nor the sticky, warm fingers clasped with hers.

She also didn't appreciate the way he leered at her, looking as if he'd like to lick her like a lollipop.

She'd turned her head to avoid his whiskey breath when a large, tanned, scarred hand tapped her repulsive gentleman on the shoulder. Before she knew it, he'd ceded her to Granger.

Dan pulled her closer than he should and glowered down at her. “How am I doin', Teach?”

She looked up and faltered. “F-fine. Why?”

“Because I just live for your approval, darlin' Lil. And I'm not feelin' it much these days.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“Of course not. It wouldn't be polite for you to know what I mean. Therefore you play ignorant so you can avoid hurting my feelings, which, after all, would be rude.”

“What are you talking a—”

“Lemme ask you a question, Miz London. Is it proper etiquette to let a man take down your drawers and do all manner of hot, naughty, intimate things to you—”

“Keep your voice down!” she hissed, appalled. She tried to pull away, but he held her tight.

“—and then treat him like a dog afterward? Behave as if he's somebody you just asked for the correct time?”

“I haven't treated you that way!”

“You have,” he said, his face only an inch away from her burning one.

She tried to pull away again, but he shook his head.

“I guess you've put me in my place, then, Miss Manners. I'm good enough to go down on you, but I ain't good enough for you to socialize with.”

“That is ridiculous! I can't believe you just said that, and I'm not going to dignify it with an answer.” Furious and mortified, she threw etiquette to the four winds and tore out of his grasp. Then she stalked away from him, leaving him to look foolish on the dance floor in front of five hundred people.

She flew to a double-doored exit and into a convenient powder room, where she locked the door and hyperventilated. Her face was dark red and her whole body trembled with emotion: horror, shame and rage.

She wanted to splash water on her face, but that would destroy her careful makeup. She settled for run
ning cold water over her hands, which clenched and unclenched involuntarily.

I'm good enough to go down on you but not good enough to socialize with…

How could he possibly think that of her? How could he have said that
in public?
Someone could easily have overheard him! Loathsome, horrid man. She should have slapped his rude, mocking face.

And she'd thought herself in love with him? She didn't love Dan Granger! She despised him.

The cold water and the privacy eventually helped her calm down. She was going to have to leave the powder room at some point and make it through the rest of the evening.

No—that wasn't true. She'd made her appearance, and now she could catch a cab and go back to Leighton House. The housekeeper would let her in. She could retire to her bedroom there and not have to see Dan again. She could arrange a separate flight and just send him a bill.

Armed with this plan, Lil unlocked the door and stepped outside the little room. To the right, she saw through a set of French doors that the orchestra was outside taking a break. Several of them were smoking cigarettes. She wondered if one of them had a cell phone and could call a taxi for her. No, better to find her way to the front of Blackthorne House and request that the butler do so.

Lil turned toward the left and froze.

Dan lounged casually against the wall. He'd been
waiting for her to come out all this time. “We need to chat, darlin'.”

She raised her chin and narrowed her eyes at him, hating the fact that her knees had started shaking again. “We have nothing to chat about.”

“You're here on my payroll, and I say we do,” he growled. “Besides, it's bad manners to refuse to talk to me.”

“Mr. Granger,” she said icily, “First of all, I quit. And second, forcing your attentions on a lady is the worst breach of etiquette you can commit. So might I suggest that you
get out of my way
so that I can call a cab? I don't wish to spend
one more second
in your company.” She almost added, “you obnoxious son of a bitch,” but stopped herself just in time.

“I'll get out of your way when I'm damned good and ready. Did I force my attentions on you when you sat on my face? Was giving you multiple orgasms forcing my attentions on you? As I recall, you begged for my attentions, and couldn't get enough of them.”

Her hand came up involuntarily to slap him but he blocked it.

“Is it good manners, darlin' Lil, to drive a man crazy, make him fall in love with you and then decide he ain't fit to lick your stiletto?”

“I never decided any such thing!” she shouted. “That is your own complex and your own set of problems with your mother. All I did was get embarrassed about losing my inhibitions around you, and then top it off by falling in love with you, you big stupid cowpoke! And
then I didn't know what to do about it! So
move,
” she bellowed, surprised at the force of her own lungs. “Because I hate you and I never want to see you again!”

When he just stood there and stared at her, she lost it completely and started beating him with the only thing she had available: her evening bag. “Move!”
Thwack
.

He opened his big, dumb mouth.

“Move!” she shrieked again.
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

“Lil—”

Thwack! Thwack!

The clatter of heels sounded behind them and a beyond-furious Louella appeared. “Not another word out of either one of you!”

“Butt out, Mama.”

“I will
not!
You are being broadcast into the bloody
ballroom!
I will
never, ever, ever
live this down!” And Louella pushed past them and pounced on a cluster of clip-on microphones that they hadn't seen on a side table. Clip-on mikes that the musicians had taken off before going outside for their break.

Lil let out a horrified squeak and stumbled against the wall, using it to remain upright. Her heart thundered in her ears and shame hit her like a baby grand dropped from several stories high.