Shannon's Daughter (48 page)

“Now,
what say we put Maeve and little Margaret aside for tonight and enjoy
ourselves?
 
Once we clean up here, I’d
very much like to see what you’ve done to my bedroom.”
 

“Would
you?
 
I hope you like it.
 
I wanted it to reflect you a bit more.
 
If you don’t like it. . .”

“I’ll
love it.
 
Just because you
did it up for me.
 
And because you
shared it with me.”
 
Tipping her face up,
he kissed her gently, ignoring the trembling of her lips beneath his.
 

As they
cleared away the dishes, he gave himself a cautious pat on the back.
 
From what he could tell, Peg was ready to go
back to being Michael Shannon’s daughter, ready to resume her place in the
family and return to her life in New York.
 
He’d see her through the transition, send her off with an encouraging
smile, and then think about how he’d fill the emptiness until the next time she
needed him.
 

New
York City—1958

Chapter Forty-four

After
Peg’s departure, Kendall expected his life to resume its normal purposeful
pace.
 
He anticipated working no more or
no less than in years past, spending the usual number of days in Hertford,
visiting the home where Jenny resided each month.
 
He envisioned attending the required number
of luncheons and dinners with his mother and Patrick, passing the occasional
evening with Reggie and Maeve, or others of his old friends.
 
He was certain his life would go on without
Peg as it had always done.
 
His mistake
was in taking so much for granted.

Within
the month, Kendall Gregg was named the youngest first violin in the history of
the London Philharmonic and assumed the respected position of leader.
 
While he was honored by the promotion, he
knew it was due at least in part to the abrupt departure of his predecessor
once the dust of the contract negotiations settled.
 
His work load increased overnight and he
braced himself for the task of smoothing ruffled feathers and encouraging his
troops to join him in this new, less lucrative phase of their careers, if not
enthusiastically, at least with dedication to their chosen art.
 

Within
the next month, while Kendall worked day and night with barely time for meals
or sleep, neglecting his family and friends in the name of that same
dedication, he received word that Jenny had fallen ill.
 
Pneumonia, her father said in his brief
telephone call, which the doctor felt could be treated at the home, avoiding
the upset of moving her to a hospital.
 
Subsequent calls kept him informed of the hiring of a nurse, Jenny’s
discouraging lack of progress, and finally a suggestion that he might want to
visit, with the implication that this could be his last
 
such opportunity.

In all
the years since their marriage had ended before it began, Kendall had forbidden
himself to contemplate any release other than Jenny’s return to health and her
agreement to a divorce.
 
Her death came
as a genuine shock, one he was forced to conceal.
 
No one around him knew he’d ever been
married, so no one was aware of his sudden status as a widower.
 
Too busy keeping busy to let the news sink in
too deeply, he continued to go about his life as he had for years, uncertain just
how he was supposed to feel or think about his unexpected freedom.
 

When
his mother chided him for working too hard, when the lads in the quartet
suggested he had the look of a man with the weight of the world on his
shoulders, when Reggie repeated his concern about Kendall’s health, he blamed
it all on finding his stride in the new job.
 
At night, in the few hours he had to himself, he admitted to feeling
unbalanced and uncertain of what to do now that what he had so long hoped for
was his.
 
Deep in his conscience, a voice
warned him against moving too quickly.
 
Wasn’t the usual rule to wait a year after the loss of a spouse before
making any radical changes?
 
While there
was nothing “usual” about his situation, it seemed logical to take things
slowly, not, as he sometimes fantasized, to rush to New York with a proposal on
his lips and an engagement ring in his pocket.
 
That same voice echoed the variety of messages he’d gotten from Peg through
the years, from her declaration that she never intended to marry based on her
responsibilities to her father, to her wish for things to be “different,” and
wistful allusions to that hypothetical ivy-covered cottage.
 
He had no real idea how she would react to
the news that he was now free to marry, and he admitted to no small amount of
fear at learning that reaction.
 

By
Christmas, fantasy won out over fear.
 
He
didn’t go so far as to buy a ring or rehearse a proposal, but he made up his
mind to tell Peg the truth.
 
Like any
sensible man on a mission, he booked a flight and a hotel room, and sent a
telegram informing her of his arrival in early January.
 
Like any dreamer of impossible dreams, he
imagined numerous romantic scenarios, including weeping together with relief
and planning a June wedding.
 
Pragmatically, he hoped she’d at least agree
to make their relationship public and consider a more conventional
arrangement—dare he mention marriage—in the distant future.
 
At the last minute, just in case fantasy by
some miracle became reality, he packed his grandmother’s engagement ring.
 

Apparently
the moment she received his wire, Peg telephoned, catching him preparing for a
rare early night.
 
“Why are you coming to
New York?”
 
He’d expected her to be
surprised, but there was also a hint of alarm in her voice.

“To
see you, brat.
 
What other reason would I have?”
 
He juggled the phone while shrugging on his
dressing gown.
 

“How
are you explaining that to everyone?
 
I
mean, won’t they question why you’re going to such lengths, just to see me?”
 
He chose to ignore the suspicion in her
question.

“Possibly.
 
But I don’t have to answer their questions.
 
Besides, they’ve all been urging me to take a
vacation.
 
You do want me to come?”

“Of
course I do!
 
I’m just a little bit
confused.
 
And you don’t have to stay at
a hotel.
 
Dad and Adamson are in Florida,
and there’s no one here with me but Mrs. Leary.”

“No, I
think I’ll keep my reservation.
 
More privacy.
 
And I
always promised myself I’d stay at the Plaza someday.”

“All
right, but it’s really not necessary.
 
We
managed fine the last time you were here.”

He
chuckled at the vision of her pouting on the other end of the line.
 
“I’d rather not live in fear of discovery
this time.
 
Listen, Peg, you caught me on
the way out the door.
 
We’ll have plenty
of time in a few days to talk this over.”
 

If he
felt any shame at lying to her, he tempered it with the knowledge that in their
new relationship, there would be no need for lies ever again.
 

He had
anticipated many things at their first meeting, joy followed by passion taking
the top spot on the list.
 
He had not
expected Peg to appear nervous, even wary as she led him into her father’s
study after an awkward and all too brief welcoming kiss.
 

Hoping
to ease her anxiety, he sat on the couch and patted the spot beside him.
 
“There’s something we need to talk about,
love.
 
Might as well
get it over with.”

Her
eyes darkened further as she took her place some inches from him on the
cushion, folding her hands tensely in her lap.
 

“You
saw the pictures, didn’t you?
 
I had no
idea they’d be in the London papers.”
 

“Pictures?”
 
His heart, already beating at a steadily mounting pace, accelerated
sharply.

“It was
nothing, Kendall.”

“I’m
sure it
was.
. .nothing.
 
But tell me anyway.
 
About those pictures.”

“I only
went out with him because I had no real reason to refuse.
 
And he’d been so good about taking on my
responsibilities while I was away last fall.
 
The papers got the wrong impression.
 
Gerry even offered to talk to some of the editors to try to quiet things
down.”

“Gerry?”

“Yes.
 
Gerald Morgan.”
 
She hesitated.
 
“You did see the pictures, didn’t you?”

He
wished desperately for a drink behind which to hide his smile.
 
“No, brat.
 
I haven’t seen any pictures of you and Gerry.
 
Would I have been upset, had I been so
fortunate?”

Her
shoulders slumped and she spread her hands.
 
“I’m sorry.”

“For
what?”

“For
assuming you came all the way to New York because you thought I was involved
with someone else.”

“A
bit facetious, but nothing to be sorry for.
 
Are
you.
. .involved with Gerry?”

“No!
 
As I said, the papers jumped to the wrong
conclusion because we went out a few times and got our picture taken together
looking as if we might be. . .well, close.
 
There were even rumors that we were engaged.
 
We’ve known each other forever.
 
He’s Dad’s right hand at the bank.
 
He’s a very nice man, but not the least bit
interesting in that way.
 
And besides,
what they don’t know is that I have you and I’m not even interested in any
other man.”

As Peg
paused for breath, Kendall breathed a sigh of only partially feigned
relief.
 
“Ah, well I’m glad to hear
it.
 
And there’s no truth to the rumors
that you’re engaged, you and Gerry?”

“Of
course not.
 
You know very well I never plan to get
married.
 
I even explained that to Gerry
when he. . .” she bit her lip.
 

“When
he proposed?
 
Sounds as
if Gerry’s a whirlwind romance kind of guy.”

“I was
going to say when he asked me what I’d say if he
did
propose.
 
So he didn’t
really get to that point.
 
I’m making a
huge mess of this, aren’t I?”

“I
wouldn’t say huge.
 
And who could blame Gerry
for trying to sweep you off your feet, or you for accepting his proposal if
he’d gotten to that point?
 
Up until now,
I certainly haven’t been in a position to offer you anything of that
sort.”
 

She
opened her mouth to speak, blinked at him, and let out a little gasp.
 
Narrowing her gaze, she stared at him for a
long moment.
 
“Up until
now?”

Taking
her hand, he let another moment pass.
 
“That brings us to what I wanted to talk about before we got off on the
subject of Gerry.
 
There’s no gentle way
to say this, so I’ll just say it plainly.
 
Jenny is dead.”

Her
gasp this time was one of genuine dismay.
 
“Oh, Kendall, I’m sorry!
 
How?
 
When?”

Moved
by her sympathy more than he’d expected, he cleared the lump in his
throat.
 
“Pneumonia.
 
Early November.”

She
reached up to caress his cheek.
 
“Why
didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I
wanted to tell you in person.
 
It didn’t
seem the sort of thing to write about.
 
And frankly, it took some time for me to adjust to the fact myself.”

“It
must have been a shock.”

“I’d
never really imagined it ending that way.
 
I suppose I’d resigned myself to the idea that it might never end at
all.”
 

“How do
you feel about it?”

He took
a deep breath.
 
“Honestly, a little
unbalanced.
 
It changes things.”

“Things?”

“My
future.
 
My present for that matter.
 
And yours, too, I hope.”

Her
only answer was a whispered, “Oh.”

When he
reached for her, she came into his arms gently, nestling her head on his
shoulder and running a comforting hand over his chest.
 
“Not something we have to discuss right
now.
 
I’d hope you’d let me take you someplace
nice for dinner, maybe even dancing.
 
A
date, I believe they call it.
 
Preferably, somewhere we’re likely to get our picture taken.”

Peg
seemed to think about that.
 
“We don’t
have to hide anymore, do we?”

“No.
 
And you are forbidden to introduce me to
anyone as your cousin.
 
I’m willing to be
your friend, at least for now, but I am not going to pose as a member of your
family any longer.
 
We are two unattached
adults engaging in whatever unattached adults get up to.
 
If that’s agreeable with
you, of course.”