01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin (23 page)

Lanyon cocked his head at her.
“I knew you’d sing alto. But you’ve got a good ear too.”

Maggie blushed.

Devin saved her from having to
say anything by coming up to stand beside Kee. “Let’s get back to
some real country. ‘Folsom Prison Blues
.
’ ”

“Johnny,” Lanyon shouted, and
they were all off.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Maggie hadn’t looked at him once
all night, in spite of the fact that Drew had organized the seating
at the dinner table so they were directly across from one another.
Tris could hardly see anyone else. And whatever Maggie had done to
him while he was ailing was nothing compared to how he reacted now.
He was back to his sorry state in the diner. He’d have to use a
dinner napkin to cover his problem, or appall his mother and
frighten Tammy.

The good news was that his
mother was recovering from her effort to heal him. But he could
feel her eyes on him. That wasn’t good. Everybody seemed to like
Maggie, in spite of the jeans and the boots. How could they not?
She was sweet to Tammy, and whenever anyone tried to make her the
focus of the conversation, she asked them questions about
themselves to deflect attention. She was doing it now.

“You said you completed a
merger, Mr. Tremaine. What exactly did you merge?”

“Not technically a merger. We
bought a company that makes wind turbines.”

“Oh.”

Kemble bailed in to help her.
“Tremaine Enterprises specializes in green technology.”

“Daddy calls it ‘being kind to
the earth.’ ” Tammy said around a mouthful of pie. Her teeth were a
little blue. She gave her father an adoring look.

“One division does disaster
recovery management,” his mother added.

“Like the Red Cross—that sort of
thing?”

“We cover logistical support for
lots of NGOs, including the Red Cross,” his father said. “Sometimes
we provide equipment, too. Depends on the kind of disaster.”

“And since that division doesn’t
make money,” Kemble said dryly, “it’s a good thing everything else
does. Especially right now. We’ve got more earthquakes, hurricanes,
and tornados than we know what to do with.” He sighed. “We really
miss Victor.”

Tris glanced to Tammy, and saw
her eyes fill. Victor had always doted on her. “Money isn’t
everything,” his mother reminded, changing the subject. “It’s how
you put it to work.”

“Father is very good at that,
among other things,” Drew took the cue, and didn’t mention Victor.
Tris glared at her. He didn’t want hints about their father’s magic
in front of Maggie.

Soon the conversation strayed to
Kee’s desire to study art in France and the paintings she was
working on. Maggie drew her out. “What kind of paintings do you
do?”

“What doesn’t she do?” Drew
asked.

“I’m finding my style,” Kee
said, as though talking to incredibly ignorant children. That tone
was a specialty of seventeen-year-olds.

“At least she’s off Hieronymus
Bosch.” Drew gave a shudder.

Maggie looked down. She must not
know who that was.

“Very graphic images of people
being tortured in Hell,” his mother murmured. “A somewhat
concerning subject for a fifteen-year-old girl.”

“Yeah!” Lanyon said, pumping his
fist. “Those were way better than those big boring flower things
she’s doing now.”

“Georgia O’Keeffe was a
pioneer,” Kee protested.

“Bor-ing.”

At this rate they’d be
quarreling all night. Tris didn’t want Maggie to think that was
what his family was about. “Hey, what’s going on with you, Devin?”
he asked.

“He’s thinking about what to
major in in college,” his father said, nudging Devin who sat on his
right.

“I’m surfing every day,” Devin
corrected. Then he looked abashed. “Too bad you can’t major in
surfing.”

“Major in something practical,
Devin,” his father continued, as though Devin hadn’t said anything.
“You know you have a place in Tremaine Enterprises when you finish
school. You’ll want to have something to contribute.”

“You didn’t seem to care that I
majored in history.” Tris could feel Drew’s tension. “Not exactly
practical. And you can’t say Kee majoring in art is going to do the
company any good.”

“Well....” His father had the
grace to realize he was trapped.

“Or, doesn’t it matter what Kee
and I major in?” Drew asked, too innocently.

“Well, it’s just that you
two....”

“Are girls,” Drew finished, both
triumphant and bitter.

“Have you ever considered
studying oceanography?” Maggie asked Devin, deftly averting
Armageddon. “It’s not exactly surfing, but....”

“Yeah,” Lanyon said. “That’s a
great idea, Dev.”

“That
is
a good idea,
Maggie,” his mother seconded.

Devin looked relieved to have
found a temporary way to stave off his adoptive father’s demands.
“I’ll look into that,” he mumbled. Tris could relate.

Jane and Drew cleared the table
and ran another load of dishes, while Tammy pressured Kemble into
finding her a dressage teacher.

“Kemble is busy,” his father
said. Was he was stomping on Tammy’s enthusiasm? “Leave it to me.
Hilda will know someone. She won the Pan American Games, or some
such.” Tris realized his assumption about his father was wrong.

Tammy surged out of her chair.
“Oh, thank you, Daddy. Thank you
so,
so much.” She flung her
arms around his father’s neck. Tris had to admit the man had the
patience of a saint. He listened as though he cared while Tammy
recounted how wonderful Maggie was with Cally. “It was almost like
they were the same creature, like a ... like a centaur or
something.”

“It’s good to have an affinity
for something,” his mother said as she shot Maggie that speculating
look. Tris had to stop that look immediately. That look almost
always immediately preceded an effort at matchmaking. He grabbed
his napkin and rose, letting it hang strategically over his
problem. Swear to God there was something wrong with him.

“I’m a little bushed, what with
the long ride and all.”

Maggie smiled at the table,
carefully avoiding Tris’s gaze. “Yeah. I better turn in, too. I’ll
be up early to take the horses out to Anaheim Hills and head home.
I won’t wake you all.” She turned to his mother. “I’d like to thank
you for your hospitality, ma’am.” She nodded to his father. “Sir.
I’m sorry I didn’t even have a hostess gift or anything. But I sure
do appreciate it.”

“You brought my son home.” His
mother’s look was soft. “What more could a mother want? And you
were kind to Tammy.”

“Tris is a hostess gift!” Lanyon
crowed. “That’s a good one.”

“Enough!” Tris said in his
gruffest voice.

Maggie rose, smiling, but
pointedly ignoring both Lanyon and Tris. “Anybody would have done
that.” She nodded to the table. “Good night, and again, thank you
all.” She hesitated. “It’s been real nice to see a ... a big family
in action.” She ducked out before anyone could say anything. Tris
saw the surprise on everyone’s faces. As soon as she’d disappeared,
they all turned to him with pointed, if unspoken, questions.

He waited until he heard her
boots on the stairs. “Her home life isn’t great.”

His mother frowned. “How
so?”

“That’s hers to tell, not mine.”
He stared after her. “Looks like she won’t get the time to do that,
though.” She was leaving. And that prospect was so bleak he turned
on his heel and headed to the bedroom that was once his before
anyone could see his expression.

Kemble stared after Tris, along
with the rest of his family. He glanced to his father, who was
frowning, and over to his mother, who just looked puzzled.

“Wow,” Tammy said. “Is there
something going on here?”

“Yes there is. You are going to
bed,” Kemble’s mother said firmly, over Tammy’s groans. “You too,
Lanyon.”

“It’s only ten o’clock!” Lanyon
said. “That’s barbaric.”

“You can read or play your
flute, but you are doing it in your bedroom.” She clapped her
hands. “Hup, hup.”

The two youngest members of the
family dragged themselves off. Drew and Jane came out from the
kitchen. Jane took one look around, raised her brows, and
deliberately yawned. “So exciting,” she murmured. “But I’m
exhausted. Think I’ll turn in.” Jane was always considerate.

That left Kemble’s parents,
Drew, and the Kee/Devin consortium. The seventeen-year-old puppies
were trying to look very grown-up so they wouldn’t be hied off to
bed too.

“So, what was that all about?”
his father asked the room.

“What was what all about?” Drew
asked, with all the nonchalance she could muster. She had always
been Tris’s ally underneath her apparent disdain for both older
brothers.

“The ‘he has eyes only for her
and she won’t look at him’ thing,” Kemble said dryly. His gaze slid
to his mother. She was the expert on such matters. However, her
expression was unreadable. She appeared to be staring at the big
candles that made up the table centerpiece.

“He’s clearly in love with her,”
Kee announced.

“He doesn’t believe in love,”
Drew said softly, as though confessing Tris’s mortal sin.

Kemble snorted. “And double on
Sundays. He has a new ‘girlfriend’ every week.” He didn’t mention
that his brother had been trying to hide one very big hard-on
through most of dinner. Tris had to carry the napkin out of the
room with him. His father noticed, he was sure.

“
Had
,” Kee pointed out.
“We haven’t seen him in a year. We don’t know what he’s like.”

“Don’t think he’s changed,”
Kemble muttered.

“How do you know?” Drew asked.
“He came home.”

“Because he needed healing,”
Kemble snapped. “He tried very hard for a year not to be found. No
credit cards, no money wired from his business.”

“But you did track him,” Drew
said with certainty. She must have been talking to his mother.
“He’d know you could do that. He hadn’t cut his ties
completely.”

“He went so far as to buy a new
identity. That sounds like someone who doesn’t want to be found. I
had a devil of a time figuring that one out. And he’s been doing it
hard. Look at the scars on his face. He did drugs and drank too
much even before he left. He’s on the road to oblivion, surely.”
Kemble had begun to suspect that running into a semi was Tris’s way
of taking a shortcut to oblivion, consciously or unconsciously.

“You’re right, Kemble,” his
mother sighed. She looked up and around the group. “I knew he was
having a hard time. The cards said he was growing distant, even
from himself these last few months. He cared for nothing. He
was
on his way to oblivion.”

“I never understood why he
left.” His father stared at his wine. “His place was here.”

Drew set her mouth. Kemble
sighed.
Here it comes.
“Maybe he left because everybody just
assumed he almost beat that photographer to death. You and Kemble
bought the guy off.”

His mother gasped. “You didn’t!
Brian....”

“If I hadn’t, we’d all be
visiting him in jail,” his father snapped.

“Did you ever ask him whether he
did it?” Drew challenged. “Maybe he needed a lawyer to prove his
innocence instead of evidence that even his family thought he was
guilty.”

“I’ve bailed him out of jail
before, unbeknownst to you all.” His father looked uncomfortable
though. “I just assumed....” Then he actually flushed, realizing
what he’d said.

Nobody said anything except his
mother, who stared at the candles and murmured, “I never dreamed
... poor boy.”

His father shifted in his chair
uncomfortably. “Give me some credit. I
was
trying to do what
was best for Tris.” At his wife’s reproachful look, he was stung
into admitting, “I never seem to know how to handle Tristram,
Brina. He has no boundaries....” He trailed off unhappily. Yeah.
Tris was pretty much the opposite of Tremaine Senior. Unlike Kemble
himself, who was a pale shadow of his father. Which was better?
Sometimes Kemble envied Tris.

His mother smiled, a small, sad
little smile. “I know, Brian. I know he’s difficult.”

“Well, he seemed okay tonight,”
Devin ventured, a little hesitant. Devin often felt he didn’t have
the right to contribute to Tremaine family councils. “He laughed.
He told the ferret story. He actually sang songs.”

“Maybe ... something ... made
him engage again,” Kee ventured.

The female half of the table was
definitely starting to imagine things. It was Kemble’s job to bring
them back to reality. “She isn’t magic.”

“O’Brian,” Drew mused. “That
could be Celtic.”

“For God’s sake, Drew,” his
father said. “Devin says she rides bulls for a living.” His father
sighed then continued with more purpose. “But she’s leaving
tomorrow. That will put a stop to any inappropriate liaison. That
boy needs meaningful work here instead of riding around the country
doing nothing.”

“I don’t think any of our
businesses can use a mechanic,” Kemble said dryly.

“Well, he never
will
find
a girl with the right genes if he’s fighting and getting into
accidents because he’s driving drunk.” His father thought he’d had
the final word on the subject.

“I like her.” All eyes turned
toward his mother.

“I like her too,” his father
said. “That isn’t the point.”

Drew crossed her arms. Bad sign.
When Drew made up her mind there was no changing it. “Well, I think
it will be too bad if she’s the reason Tris is back from wherever
he was mentally and then he lets her go.” She looked around the
table. “He’ll be drifting again the next day.”

Kemble couldn’t disagree. The
horrible part about Drew was that she was often right.

“Or worse,” his mother said
quietly.