Promoted to Wife (Destiny Bay) (15 page)

He glanced back with a weary smile. “Sure. After all
...”
He reached out and tapped Angelina on the top of her wigged head. “I've got Angelina to keep me warm.”

Terry backed slowly from the room, but Rick didn't look at her again. She'd won, she thought as she hurried down the hall to the stairway. She'd won. So why was it
that she felt so overwhelmingly sad?

True to his word, Rick stayed away from her all the next day. Charles drove Aunt Julia, Brandy, and the chil
dren to the Danish village of Solvang for the day, so
Terry was free to get some organizing taken care of, and
to begin training Celia, the maid who'd just been hired.

She saw Rick face-to-face only once, when he was getting ready to leave the house. She hadn't seen him
coming and almost ran into him at the bottom of the
stairs when she was carrying the tea set down from Jul
ia's sitting room.

“I'm going out,” he told her casually.

She looked into his face but there was no warmth in his
eyes. He might have been a stranger.

“I see,” she said, and suddenly the tea cups were rat
tling on the tray, her hands were shaking so terribly.
“When can we expect you to return?”

“I don't know.” He shrugged into the sport coat he'd been carrying. “I'll be at the country club if anyone needs
me.”

She had a sudden vision of his friends lolling about in tennis whites, calling to him to come meet a new girl
they'd found for him. The vision came with a flash of
pain as sharp as the thrust of a knife and she winced,
rattling the china again.

“I'll tell the others if they ask.” She was proud her
voice was cool. But inside it was another story. Some
awful emotion was raging. In a more objective mood, she might have recognized jealousy, but right now she didn't
dare admit it, even to herself.

She watched him walk out to his car. He walked as silkily as he talked, all sinuous lines and liquid move
ments. “Too gorgeous for his own good,” she muttered as
he drove away. She swallowed down the lump in her
throat.

Rick got back in time for dinner with the others, a dinner which went smoothly. The children had taken a liking to Brandy and she spent hours telling them stories and playing charades, making them laugh. Terry was glad to see them so happy, but now and then she felt a twinge of envy even for this. She wanted the children to
like her that way too.

Terry began to wonder if the pressure of her job
might not be too much for her. She seemed to have lost
all control of her common sense.

The children had been on her mind all day. She knew
she had no place giving advice to the Carringtons, but there
were some things she knew she couldn't remain silent about. She had to speak her piece, and so she waited to catch Rick when he was alone that evening, having a brandy over his papers in the library.

“Excuse me.” She knocked softly at the open door.

“Yes?”

Rick sat back in the shadows, his handsome face dark and expressionless.

“May I speak to you for a moment?”

“Of course.”

She stepped in and launched before she looked into his face again, wanting to get it over quickly. “I have just one thing to say to you. I... I know it's none of my business, but... but I have to tell you what I think.”

He nodded slowly. “All right.”

She took a deep breath and then let her words out all in a rush. “I think you should keep the children here with you for the rest of the summer. How else will you ever get to know them well enough for them to love you? Coming and going all the time—it's just not right. You're not an uncle, you're their father. You should be together, grow together, live together.” She shook herself. “And that's all I wanted to say,” she ended lamely, turning and leaving the room. He didn't call her back.

But at least she'd expressed her opinion. Now he could do what he pleased.

Breakfast the next morning was hectic. The children had to be fed and urged to hurry. Charles arrived with the limousine to drive them back to school but was kept waiting as Celia was nervous and knocked over the milk in the middle of the breakfast table, then dropped orange juice all over Erica's new dress. Terry went upstairs with Erica to help her pick out something else to wear.

“I'll miss you,” she told the girl.

“I'll probably be back in two weeks,” Erica responded without emotion.

Terry watched her carefully as she chose a cotton shirt from her well-supplied closet. “Do you like your school?”

There was a pause and then Erica looked into her face. “I don't like anything much,” she said coolly. “But at least at school everyone leaves me alone.”

Terry felt properly put in her place and she didn't say another word as she helped the children into the limousine and waved them off.

Rick came down to drive Brandy to the airport. Terry nodded when he told her his plans, busily working on her schedule, trying not to meet his gaze. He'd been cool to her for over twenty-four hours now, and she was growing more and more tense, waiting—for what she wasn't sure. She only knew something inside felt like a wire being pulled to the breaking point.

“Aunt Julia will be staying on,” Rick told her. “She'll handle the morning meetings from now on. You can meet with her in the library at nine.”

“Of course,” she said softly, risking a quick look at his face and regretting it. She'd asked to be treated as a real butler, and now she was getting exactly what she wanted. There was no sign in his eyes that he'd ever felt anything for her.

“Oh, by the way,” he added as he began to turn away. “I'll be leaving myself this afternoon. I've got business in New York.”

It was unbelievable the way her heart fell. Just three days before, she'd never met the man, and now his presence in her life seemed indispensable.
 

“Will you be gone long?” she heard herself asking.

“At least a week, maybe two.”

“Then ... you don't have any reservations about my staying on as butler?”

His gaze barely skimmed over her. “You seem to be doing just fine. If Aunt Julia has any complaints, I'm sure she'll let you know.” And then he was gone.

She looked at her reflection in the hall mirror and saw a strained face and haunted eyes. “It's for the best,” she whispered. But inside she felt hollow.

“You seem to have things in hand,” Julia mused as she sat across, the desk from Terry, going over her lists and plans for the household. “You do realize how important it is that everything be perfect when my brother finally arrives at the end of the summer?”

“Mr. Carrington was quite clear on that score,” Terry replied.

Julia nodded, pursing her lips. “I can't think what he'll make of a female butler,” she said softly, almost to herself. “But you seem to be doing the job, and that's what counts.”

“Thank you.” Terry was pleased that Julia thought well of her work. She only hoped her luck would hold out for the entire summer.

“Oh, just a moment,” Julia said suddenly, and Terry paused, not liking the sound of her tone. “I don't see anything here about the Waltz Away Ball.”

Terry blinked. “I'm afraid I don't know anything about that.”

“Rick didn't tell you?” Her black eyes sparkled. “It's great fun. Every year a different family hosts it as a fundraiser for the various local charities. We all dress up as nineteenth-century Viennese. And this year it's our turn to play host.” She glanced at her calendar. “Goodness. We don’t have much time. We should begin making plans right away.”

Terry licked dry lips. “When is it held?”

“The end of next month. By all rights, we should have begun preparations weeks ago.” Aunt Julia's smile was sunnily unconcerned. “No matter. I'm sure you'll do a splendid job.”

Terry wasn't sure of that at all. She'd never put on a charity ball before and she didn't have a clue as to how one went about it. For a while she sagged under the burden, wondering if she shouldn't give up this crazy job once and for all. But by evening her backbone had stiffened. She would do it, she decided, and do a bang-up job of it too.

Rick stayed away for twelve days. In her saner moments she hoped he would be gone for a long time, sure that she would begin to forget him and be stronger when he got back. But as time went on, she began to realize it wasn't working that way. Something about the man seemed to have seeped into her bones. She couldn't shake him.

She got along beautifully with Aunt Julia. The older woman often seemed scatterbrained on the surface, but a sharp intelligence shone through in her clear black eyes. She spent many of her days visiting friends in Destiny Bay and Santa Barbara, leaving Terry free to work on her own, but she was always ready with advice or suggestions when Terry needed them.

Anatole was another matter. An uneasy truce lay between the cook and the butler, one that Terry was careful not to test. Luckily, nothing of major import came up for contention.

Celia was a help as far as cleaning went, but the good-natured girl didn't have much interest in learning anything more complicated and spent almost as much time spilling things as she did cleaning them up.

All in all, the days went by quickly. Terry arranged for rooms to be painted, for worn furniture to be recovered, for reorganization of the upstairs closets, and it wasn't long before she was seeing results and feeling satisfied with her work. The ball still loomed over her ominously, but she was working on it, and Aunt Julia was a big help.

Angelina, however, was a constant thorn in her side. Every time she passed Rick's room she felt compelled to go in and look at the hideous creature still sitting in his chair, a superior smirk on her painted face.

Someone had dressed her. She wore a simple black cocktail dress night and day, forever ready to be invited out to party. Terry stood in the doorway and stared at the doll, her fingers itching for the sharp pin that would deflate her forever.

But instead of creating mayhem, she went into town and while she had the chance, decided to drop in at the Magnificent Munch where Rick’s cousin’s wife Jennifer ran her shop on the embarcadero. She could tell right away it was her kind of place. Gourmet breads and cheeses were piled everywhere and the scent of great eating filled the air. She felt right at home.
 

There was a beautiful and very pregnant woman working behind the counter. It had to be Jennifer. Terry introduced herself. “I’m working at Calvin Carrington’s house, Mar Vista,” she told her. “My name’s Terry Yardley.”

“It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?” Jennifer had smiled. “What exactly are you doing there?”

Terry made a face, preparing to be disbelieved. “I’m the butler.”

Jennifer gasped with delight. “How cool! I can’t believe it. What can we do for you?”

“I just wanted to take a look at what you’ve got, but from what I’m seeing, I’m sure I’ll be back to order supplies soon. You’ve got just the sort of groceries I would love to experiment with.”

“Great. We’ll be ready.” Her eyes brightened. “I was just about to go to lunch next door at Mickey’s on the Bay. Why don’t you join me?”

Terry glanced at her watch. She really didn’t have much time. Still, it was too tempting to get to know more of Rick’s extended family. Besides, Mickey was a second cousin of hers, so she agreed and they walked the short space together. As luck would have it, once in the café, they found a booth full of Carringtons and slid in to join them.
 

“Terry, meet my husband’s brothers, Matt, the hotel tycoon, and Grant, the champion race car driver. And this is Grant’s wife, Carrie.”

“Carrie.” Terry said the name slowly, frowning at her. “Does your father run the little grocery store down by the pier?”

Carrie nodded. “And your father was butler at Mar Vista,” she guessed, pointing at Terry. “I know we’re not exactly related by blood, but we’ve got some distant cousin things going on, don’t we?”

Terry nodded. “Mickey’s my second cousin,” she noted.
 

“And my first cousin,” Carrie said, nodding. “So I think we can claim to be a part of the same family. Sort of.”

Matt and Grant were just as handsome as their cousin Rick, and Carrie was blond and just as pregnant as Jennifer was. Terry liked them all immediately and she thought she might recognize the men from her early visits during her teenaged years at Mar Vista. The jokes flew fast and furious, and then Mickey, the redhead who ran the café, came up to get their order, trading a few barbs of her own with the natural humor that showed she considered them all good friends.
 

“So Mickey,” Carrie said, after Mickey welcomed Terry back, “is the wedding on or off?”

Mickey tossed her head of red curls. “It’s on. For sure. Robert and I are getting married next month.” She smiled brightly. “I hope you all can make it.”

Just then a blond toddler came bouncing up to grab her around the knees. “And Meggie and I will be safe and happy,” Mickey added, almost defiantly, touching her baby’s head and looked at them all with a certain sense of reined in emotions. “Finally.”
 

There was an awkward silence for a moment, then everyone began to talk at once, congratulating Mickey and promising to be at the wedding. Mickey traded a few more jokes, then went back to the kitchen, taking her child with her. It was only seconds later that a handsome man in a business suit entered the café.
 

“There’s Robert now,” Jennifer whispered.
 

They all turned, smiled and waved, as he made his way through the place and disappeared into the back room with Mickey.
 

“He’s a banker,” Jennifer whispered to Terry. “Can’t you tell?”

“He loves her,” Carrie said, almost fiercely. “I hope and pray she’ll be happy. She deserves it.”

They all nodded at that. The food arrived and they ate and talked and then, just as they were finishing up, another man entered and came toward their booth. A hush fell over the room. He was handsome in a windswept way. He looked a little careless, his clothes a bit shabby and his hair too long. He glanced around the room like a world-weary James Dean, but there was a warm spark to his smile when he turned it on.