Carolina Isle (5 page)

But no matter what she said, Sara couldn't change Ariel's mind about David and her going to the island with her and R.J. The only way Ariel would continue with the masquerade was if Sara agreed to ask R.J. if she could go with him. “He'll need a guide,” Ariel said, “so why not your cousin who lives in Arundel?”

“And her boyfriend?” Sara asked in disbelief.

“Tell him you'll quit if he doesn't take us.”

In the end, Sara was too worn down by both Ariel and R.J. to say no to much of anything. Sara was exhausted by the time she and R.J. left for North Carolina. When they got to the beautiful bed-and-breakfast in Arundel that Ariel had recommended, Sara was feeling guilty for what they were about to do to him, but then R.J. started his usual litany of complaints and Sara couldn't stand him again. Who could hate such a beautiful place? She told him she was going to bed, then went to her own room.

Ariel was waiting for her in her room. If she'd been anyone else, Sara would have thought she'd
climbed in the window, but she knew that Princess Ariel would never do such a thing.

“He agreed, didn't he?” Ariel asked as she handed Sara the pageboy wig.

Sara didn't know what would have happened if she'd told her no. She said that R.J. had agreed and that tomorrow morning the four of them were heading to King's Isle.

“And may the Lord have mercy on us all,” Ariel said. In the next second, she raised a window. “Sorry, but it's the only way you can leave the room and not be seen.” Sara started to protest, but then she glanced outside and there in the dark was David, his arms raised upward, as if to catch her. Sara wanted to put on a white dress, stand on the ledge, and fall backward into his arms.

Ariel misunderstood her look. “It's not that bad,” she said. “I mean, the part about my house and my mother isn't so bad. King's Isle is horrible, but the rest will be all right. You'll see. Gather your courage and do it.”

Ariel meant that Sara was to gather her courage to be able to jump into David's waiting arms. Golly gee, Sara thought. I hope I can do it.

Sara wiped the smile off her face, replaced it with a look of resignation, put the wig on, then fell out the window as gracefully as she could. It would have worked better if her foot hadn't caught on a vine that was devouring the building. She ended up upside down, with one foot in the vine, one flailing about, and the top half of her in David's strong arms.

“Really, Sara!” Ariel hissed from the window. “You're going to wake everyone up.”

So much for sympathy from my dear cousin! Sara thought. She wanted to make a snappy comeback, but the sensation of being held by David rendered her incapable of speech. He leaned across her to disentangle her foot, then pulled her more fully into his arms—strong arms—all while apologizing for not catching her properly.

As he carried her to his car, she snuggled her head against his shoulder, and thought that maybe she could forgive him for quite a few things.

“How's your foot?” he asked as he gently set her inside his car. She didn't know what make
the vehicle was, but she could smell the leather seats.

“Fine,” she said and wished she had on one of Ariel's designer dresses instead of cotton slacks and a polo shirt. David made her feel like a lady.

He smiled and even in the dark she could see his white teeth. He closed the door, then got into the driver's seat and started the car. “So you're Sara.”

“Actually, I'm supposed to be Ariel. Maybe once I get her clothes on I'll look more like her. By the way, thank you for helping me back there. I'm not usually quite that clumsy.”

“The first thing you'll have to do is stop being so nice. Everyone will know you're not Ariel!”

Sara laughed and relief flowed over her. She knew that Ariel wasn't in love with David, but she'd wondered why a man like him put up with her if he wasn't in love with her. Now she saw that he wasn't and all she felt was relief.

“How about this: ‘David! You idiot! If you'd caught me when you should have, I wouldn't have entangled my foot in that vine. Do you think
that was poison ivy? Do you think we should go to the hospital?”'

When David laughed again, she wanted to go on all night.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

“I've never wanted to do it, but …” She shrugged to let him know that she had her reasons. “Did Ariel have time to tell you that R.J. agreed to all four of us going to King's Isle tomorrow?”

Sara wasn't sure, but she thought she heard him mutter, “R.J.!”

“So tell me about this King's Isle,” she said, smiling. There wasn't another car on the road. “Is it as bad as Ariel says?”

“In Arundel, they don't have the boogie man to scare the kids, they have King's Isle,” he said. “Truthfully, the waters around there are full of reefs and there
are
a couple of buried ships. And there've been quite a few wrecks over the centuries. It's tradition around here to make up stories about the islanders luring ships to their deaths.”

“Shades of Daphne du Maurier,” Sara said, relieved
to hear that Ariel's fears were unfounded. She had almost started to believe Ariel's paranoia.

“So how did you get Brompton to agree to let Ariel and me go with you? I mean, let
you
and me go?”

“Confusing, isn't it?” she said and he nodded. “R.J. will give me whatever I want, but I make sure I don't ask for much.”

David gave her a sharp look. “Why would your boss give you anything you want?”

“Because he can't run his life without me.” Sara could hear her voice rising. “I coordinate everything in his life and do everything for him, from programming his cellphone to buying his underwear. The last time he gave a party, the bartender's three kids came down with measles and I had to serve the drinks. He wanted me to wear a short skirt and a frilly white apron, but I told him he could take his sick fantasies somewhere else. You know what he gave me for my birthday? A pair of lovebirds. I gave them to a hospice. I tell you, that man—”

Embarrassed, Sara broke off and looked at David. He was looking straight ahead, his face expressionless. Wow! she thought. He doesn't give
anything away, does he? He'd make one heck of a poker player, or a …

“Have you ever thought about going into politics?” she asked.

David's beautiful face broke into astonishment and he briefly swerved into the next lane. “Found out,” he said. “Not even my mother knows my secret ambition. How did you figure it out?”

Sara used all her acting training to keep a straight face. She'd been making a joke—or an insult. He was so stoical that he looked like one of those old presidents on paper money. “You want to save the world?” she asked, trying to sound earnest and not sarcastic.

“More or less.” He glanced at her and his eyes were twinkling. “Save the environment, anyway. I've thought about trying to be secretary of the Interior.”

“Why not president?” she asked flippantly, but even in the dark car she could see his face turn red.

Turning away, she looked out the windshield. President. This man wanted to be the president of the United States. He was from a good family, had lots of money, an Ivy League education, and
he wanted to be president. She looked at his strong arms inside his beautifully ironed shirt and knew that the women would vote for him.

David pulled into a driveway and at last she saw the house she'd dreamed of for so long. He turned off the engine, then picked up her hand and held it. “You'll be okay. When Ariel told me this is what she wanted to do, I said she couldn't pull it off. How could anyone impersonate anyone else? But now that I've seen that you are a woman of great sensitivity and insight, I think you might be able to do it.”

When he kissed her hand, Sara felt her knees turning to jelly. Worse, she felt herself sliding down into the seat. She'd daydreamed about this man for so long that it would seem natural to have a little make-out session in the car. Besides, she was supposed to be Ariel, so she and David were an item, weren't they?

But then an expression flickered across his eyes and it so reminded her of R.J. that she sat upright and snatched her hand out of his grasp. “David, really!” she said, imitating Ariel. “You're not going to start
that
again, are you?”

Instantly, his expression changed and he sat
back in his seat. He blinked at her a few times, then smiled. “You
are
a good actress, aren't you? For a minute there, I thought you were Ariel.”

Sara did some blinking of her own because she'd just discovered that what the self-help books told you was true: Men treated you as you allowed them to treat you. When he knew she was Sara, a girl whose father was from the wrong side of the tracks, and she was melting at his touch, he was smirking at her in that way that R.J. smirked at women. But when she became Ariel, aka the Queen of the World, he sat up straight and minded his manners.

“I think that from now on, even in private, we should play our proper roles,” Sara said, realizing for the first time that if she ever had a chance of winning this fabulous man, she was going to have to keep him from knowing that she wanted him. Mindful of that revelation, she put her hand on the car door handle. David stopped her.

“You know that Miss Pommy will be waiting up for you, don't you?”

“Ariel's mother? Tonight? But it must be—”

“After two
A.M.
Yes, I know, but she'll be there. You'll just have to stand your ground.” He looked
her up and down. “She's going to hate what you have on. Can you brazen it out?”

Sara opened her mouth to say that of course she could, but then her whole body turned the yellow of a coward. “Are Ariel's suitcases in the back?”

“Half of them are. I should have taken the pickup, but Miss Pommy hates it when I drive the truck. ‘So common,' she says.”

As they got out of the car, Sara wanted to ask if he wore faded denims and a blue shirt when he drove the truck, but that would show the common side of her. “What do you think Ariel would wear on a plane?” she asked.

“Something expensive,” he said as he hauled a suitcase out of the trunk, closed the lid silently, then disappeared into the tall shrubbery at the side of the driveway. She followed him and saw an arbor covered with some dense vine. There was a seat on one side. “So this is where you and Ariel sneak away to be alone?”

David snorted. “I spend whole days alone with Ariel in her bedroom, but nothing ever happens.”

Sara couldn't tell if he was angry or if that's the way he wanted it to be. He pulled his keys out
of his pocket, then turned on a tiny flashlight to look at the numbers on Ariel's suitcase. She had to work to not show her surprise that he knew the combination to her lock.

He put the case on the bench, opened it, then rummaged inside and drew out two pieces of clothing. He handed Sara slacks and a fine-gauge, short-sleeve pink sweater.

As she started to change, she said, “Don't look.” She sounded insincere even to herself.

Politely, he turned his back to her. She couldn't help thinking that if it had been R.J., he would have folded his arms over his chest and told her to proceed—while he watched. But then, R.J. was a mad sex fiend who came on to anything female.

In seconds, Sara had put on the clothes, which fit perfectly. She could feel the fine texture, and the cost of them, even in the dark. “You can turn around now,” she said.

Turning, David looked at her. There wasn't much light, but the moon gave a bit of a glow so they could see each other. “Ariel said that you were …” He didn't finish his sentence, but she knew what he was thinking.

“Ariel said I was fat, didn't she?”

He smiled. “Actually, yes. But you're the same size she is.”

“I lost the weight I'd gained in college after about four months of working for R.J. Walking in New York while carrying R.J.'s dry cleaning and his steak lunches firmed me up.”

“Whatever you did, you look great.”

Sara could feel her face turn as rosy as the sweater and she was glad it was dark so he couldn't see her clearly.

She took a deep breath. This was it. Meeting Ariel's mother was the true test of her acting ability. It was her own private audition for a part that only she could play. “Shall we go?” she said, then followed David to the house. She waited on the big, deep porch with its lovely white-painted wicker chairs and flowered cushions as he hauled four of Ariel's suitcases up the stairs.

Sara wasn't surprised when David inserted a key in the lock of Ariel's house.

The house was as grand and as beautiful as Ariel had told her it was. It had been built in 1832, on top of the foundations of a much older house built by one of Ariel's ancestors. The
Weatherly family was even richer then than they were now, so the house was big and lavish. Every surface seemed to have been decorated with a piece of white-painted wood. Every corner had little turned pieces of wood that were fitted into other little turned pieces of wood. Sara was sure that the house was a perfect example of some type of architecture, but it wasn't to her taste.

Standing at the top of the stairs was an older woman, her shoulders back, her stomach pulled in. She had gray hair piled neatly and intricately on top of her head and she was wearing a lavender chiffon bathrobe over a lavender chiffon nightgown. She looked beautiful and formidable at the same time.

“Ariel,” she said in a voice that wasn't quite a shout; still Sara knew that if they were in a theater and the microphones broke, this woman could carry on without them. “You are very late.”

“Hello, Miss Pommy,” David said from behind her.

Sara saw the woman's face change from stern to sweet in an instant. She gazed at David with love in her eyes. Did Ariel tell me about this? she wondered. If so, she didn't remember it. Or had
she heard it and dismissed it, thinking that of course everyone loved David?