Kelly McClymer-Must Love Black (13 page)

“Really?” He actually seemed surprised.

“Really. Go back and watch TV with her. Maybe the bachelor show will grow on you.” Really. I wasn’t a man stealer, even if I did hold my breath while I waited to hear what he would say next.

He didn’t say anything. He dove under the waterfall and away from our little haven. I didn’t follow. I wasn’t a man stealer. Maybe if I said it often enough, it wouldn’t seem like a bad thing.

I waited awhile to calm my heart before I, too, dove under the waterfall and came up in the pool again. The lights were
still on in Mr. Pertweath’s office, but no one stood at the window. Geoff was gone, as far as I could see, even though I came out of the pool feeling two little tingling spots on my back, as if someone was watching me. I tried to shake off the feeling, but it grew instead.

“Geoff, you creep!” I whispered, angry with him, angry with me, angry, I guess, with the world. There was a crackling sound from the bushes at the side of the pool. I searched for a sign of Geoff, seeing nothing until something white and wispy caught my eye. Geoff’s towel? The fog moving in?

I followed, knowing it was a dumb thing to do, but knowing it didn’t matter how dumb it was, I was doing it anyway. That darned stubbornness of mine kicking in, I guess.

I quickly realized that the sheer foolishness of my actions greatly exceeded my initial estimation of my dumbness. The lights around the pool disappeared a few steps into the brush, and the night was very dark, except for the light of the moon shining intermittently through the tops of the trees.

Nervously, I called out, “Geoff?”

No one answered, but I saw the flash of white again and let my growing stubbornness guide me forward.

I saw one more flash of white when the trees thinned out and hoped I’d get a glimpse of the house, Geoff, anything familiar. I had a tiny flashlight on my key ring, but I didn’t think that little bit of light would be enough to get me home when I didn’t know in what direction to point myself.

Stubbornness turned to panic as I quickened my pace and moved forward blindly. I might have wandered all night like that, twigs and brush grabbing at my towel, scratching my bare
legs and arms, if I hadn’t felt the ground slide out from under my feet. I launched myself backward, seeking firmer ground.

I’d wrapped the towel pretty tightly around my chest and stomach, but that didn’t protect my legs from the sting as I slid, scraping over pebbles and dirt and low-growing plants. I counted it a victory when I grabbed onto a viny tree root and stopped my slide. After I’d scrambled back to level ground, I realized just how close I’d come to repeating history.

I’d come right up to the cliff where Mrs. Pertweath had fallen. I’d nearly reenacted the scene. What was the matter with me?

I sat there shaking for a moment as the fog rolled in for good this time. No sign of Geoff, and any ghosts would be invisible in the fog. At least I knew how to get back to the house—I could see the lights of the dock even through the thickening fog. I—carefully—followed a path that ran along the edge of the cliff to the dock, and pretty easily from there, I found the wide paved path that led back to the house.

Fortunately, no one was around when I slipped back into the house. I would not want to share my humiliation. Bad enough I’d gone out in the darkness, but to nearly fall off a cliff wasn’t going to make anyone think I deserved an award for nanny of the year. Better to keep this quiet and resolve never to be so stupid again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Suddenly I found myself the sinecure of every eye. Not the place a drab governess wishes to be when she’s wearing her second-best gown.

—Miss Adelaide Putnam,
Manor of Dark Dreams,
p. 102

For the next week I managed to follow the schedule almost perfectly. The twins researched the matter thoroughly, and we started the goat care I’d promised Geoff. He was a little cool to me but very helpful to the twins. The silence between us was good progress, I told myself. After all, no way could one guy be interested in both a girl like Laurie and a girl like me. It just wasn’t possible.

At our next scheduled dinner, Lady Buena Verde chastised us as expected for choosing a pet so unsuitable for the spa.

Fortunately, we had figured out our defense and were ready when the salad course was cleared and the chicken was served and Mr. P—after a glance from Lady Buena Verde—cleared his throat and said, “I hear you decided on a goat as a pet?”

He looked at me, but the twins and I had already decided that Triste should answer and Rienne should do the follow-up. I’d told them I thought they could best explain their reasoning themselves, which appealed to their sense of practicality. No point telling them I really just thought it was time their father looked at his daughters and listened to what they said for at least a few minutes.

“A goat is the most practical pet,” Triste began. “It eats grass, so there’s less mowing. It gives milk, so we could have our own personal brand of goat cheese at the spa.”

“Goat cheese?” Mr. P looked bemused, and I worried. But then he looked pleased, and I realized he had already been won over, without even much of a fight.

Lady Buena Verde must have sensed the same thing, because she cleared her throat daintily.

Mr. Pertweath glanced at her, but Rienne followed up on Triste’s advantage. “We will keep her outside, near the garage, so she won’t cause problems for the spa patrons. We have her in the rocky field that no one ever goes into.”

Mr. P smiled at his daughters. “Just like your mother, practical to the nth degree. Chrysalis Cliff goat cheese, eh?”

They beamed. Triste offered shyly, “I’ve been looking at recipes, but I haven’t picked one yet.”

“No?” Mr. P started clacking on his laptop. I didn’t have a second to be disappointed before both girls were up and standing at their father’s side. All three stared avidly at the screen.

Triste pointed at something only the three of them could see on the screen. “Herbs are good. Geoff already grows a great
garden for Cook. We could just plant a little more basil.”

“I like the dried tomato recipe, too.” Mr. Pertweath hugged his girls to him. “I’m proud of you both.”

He looked at me, as a plate of fruit and cheese was passed around. “Thank you, Philippa. I knew I could trust you to oversee the pet decision.”

“I just let the girls do what they do naturally,” I said truthfully.

After a very pleasant—and almost hour-and-a-half-long—dinner, we left knowing that Misty Gale was safe from Lady Buena Verde.

As we rounded a corner, heading back to our domain, we came across Havens, speaking quietly to a patron. They both stopped talking to look at us, and the twins drew in their breath as one.

“Good evening,” I said as I imagined Queen Elizabeth might, trying hard not to feel like a misbehaving puppy.

The patron smiled at us, especially the twins. “Hi.” Obviously not all spa goers were child haters. I nodded back, coolly, feeling as if I’d nailed this nanny gig, at last. Unfortunately, my confidence got a good shake when we encountered Lady Buena Verde a few hours later. “One moment, Philippa,” she called as the twins and I passed by an open doorway on our way back from an evening visit with Misty Gale. There was a storm brewing, a big one, and we were eager to get cozy inside with hot chocolate and books. I turned to see Lady BV standing by the fireplace, poised like an actress about to shoot a dramatic scene. More to the point, she was watching me. I wished Mr. P was around to run interference.
Was she still plotting how to get rid of Misty Gale? Had she discovered that I’d been in the pool at night when I shouldn’t have been? I couldn’t imagine that Geoff would have ratted me out. But maybe he’d said something to Laurie when he’d gotten back to his room and reclaimed his TV.

Lady BV cleared up the reason for her stare by saying, “Your aura is not so dark tonight, Philippa.” Ever since Lady Buena Verde has said she sensed darkness in my aura, I’d been trying really hard to be invisible to her. Unfortunately, at the moment I was standing right in front of her. I decided the fastest way to get out of this conversation would be to just agree with whatever she said.

“We had a good day today,” I said. “Our new goat, Misty Gale, has really helped bring some fun into our lives.” Nobody who’d seen the twins handing Geoff printouts of how to care for a goat and increase its milk supply, not to mention how to turn said milk into cheese, would have believed me that our goat-care tasks were “fun” in the traditional sense of the word. Fortunately, the only ones in the room to see that were me and the twins. And we weren’t talking. It was in our best interests to play innocent.

It was no secret that Lady Buena Verde was not happy that Mr. Pertweath had caved on the issue of Misty Gale, but she didn’t say anything about that now. Instead she continued to stare at me with an intensity that almost had me convinced she really could see my aura. And that she didn’t like what she saw.

Lady BV waved her hand. “A goat. We’ll see how that goes. If it doesn’t work out, Geoff will take care of it—only fair since
it was his suggestion, right?” She smiled a brittle smile that gave the impression she was trying to be my friend. Creepy. She’d even somehow decided to blame Geoff for the goat instead of me. Almost accurate, but not the least comforting.

Out of the blue she leaned forward and demanded, “Have you seen the ghost?”

Shocked, I didn’t answer right away. My mind blanked as I scrambled to decide what would be the right answer to such a question. Instinct told me the whole truth was a bad idea. Partial truth? But what part? And then the lights went out, a big slash of lightning lit the sky, and almost immediately, thunder rumbled overhead. The rain came down hard. I grabbed the twins’ hands and wondered if we’d be out of luck getting up to our domain if the elevator wasn’t working.

Laurie appeared with flashlights for each of us. Geoff was behind her, carrying a battery-operated lantern.

Lady Buena Verde said tersely, “Geoff, take the girls to their domain through the back staircase. I must go see to the patrons. Havens will get the backup generator up and running, and, Laurie, you contact the utility company to see how long before our electricity comes back online. Make sure they know how important it is.” She swept out of the room, still spouting instruction, and Laurie followed.

Triste squeezed my hand and gasped. “What about Misty Gale? She must be so scared.” If I hadn’t held tight to her hand, she’d have been out the door.

Geoff bent down in front of the twins and said reassuringly, “Don’t worry about her. I’ve put her in the storage shed for the storm, with lots of fresh-pulled grass.”

“Excellent.” I hadn’t wanted to argue with a worried Triste. No way was I going out into the storm for a goat.

Geoff pulled open a door I’d never noticed and we followed him up a winding, narrow, and steep staircase that led to our domain.

The sound of thunder and rain—and hail, if I wasn’t mistaken—outside was fierce. Wind, rain, high surf. Inside, we felt cocooned in the eye of the storm. With only the one lantern lighting our domain, it was shadowy and almost romantic. But if Geoff hadn’t been there too, it probably would have felt straight-up creepy.

“Let’s play chess,” Triste said to Rienne.

“That’s rude,” Rienne argued. “Then what will Pippa and Geoff do?”

Geoff looked at me and smiled. I didn’t smile back. He said, “Don’t worry about us. We’re fine.” I don’t know what else he would have said, because just then the door creaked open and Laurie came in. To my surprise, David was right behind her.

“Hey,” he said softly, giving my arm a quick squeeze. I was grateful that the dim lighting masked my blush.

“I need to remember to tell Graciela to clean the staircase even though it isn’t often used. I think I have cobwebs in my hair,” Laurie said, pulling imaginary webs out of her hair as she spoke. “It looks like we might not get power back until morning. Are all of you okay up here?”

“Yup, doing great,” Geoff reassured her—reassured all of us. “No ghosts or boogeymen in sight.”

“Good.” Laurie looked at me and then around the room,
as if she were just realizing that she’d stepped onto my turf for a change. I should have known that her entering my territory wouldn’t change her bossy nature. I was, after all, just the nanny. “Mr. Pertweath suggested we all stay here for a little while, camp out together until the storm breaks. Got any games we can play by lantern light?”

In the end we gathered around the Ouija board. In hindsight it probably was a bad idea, but I didn’t realize how bad an idea until our fingers were in place and Triste had asked the first question: “Are there ghosts here?”

The triangle glided across the board to “Maybe.” Either the spirits, or David, had a droll sense of humor.

Rienne asked softly, into the darkness, “Mom? Are you my mother?”

The triangle didn’t move. Thank heavens the joke wasn’t being taken that far.

Triste sighed. “Are you related to someone here?”

This time the triangle moved steadily toward “Yes” and my stomach plummeted to my toes. “Stop.” I was afraid. I didn’t want to admit it, but from the looks that everyone gave me, they could hear it in my voice or see it in my face.