01 Do You Believe in Magic - The Children of Merlin (30 page)

“Well, actually, be nice, but
not in a courting way, for the sake of peace in the family.” His
mother tapped one finger against her lips. “Be... brotherly.”

“Brotherly. Check.”
If
Maggie was even speaking to him after the ride to Anaheim
Hills.

His father’s gaze drifted to the
horizon and Catalina. “I can’t believe it was Tristram before any
of you.” For the first time, Kemble heard pride in his father’s
voice when he talked about his middle son. Kemble had always been
second best to his father. Now it looked like he was second even to
his ne’er-do-well younger brother.

“He’s the only one who doesn’t
want it.” Kemble hoped he didn’t sound bitter.

“Sometimes embracing what you
fear most is the only thing that will make you whole,” his mother
said quietly, leaning her head on her husband’s shoulder.

“Tris, afraid?” Tris had never
been afraid of anything.

His mother smiled, a little
sadly. “Oh, yes. He’s afraid. And that’s why you two can’t push
him. Promise me?” She looked up at her husband. Kemble could see
the sigh in the rise and fall of his father’s shoulders.

“When have I been able to refuse
you anything?”

“I just hope he doesn’t fall apart when
he realizes what’s happening,” his mother said.

*****

“How many people are down
there?” Maggie asked in a small voice. She pulled the big
terrycloth robe around her body and went to stand beside the window
where she could see but not be seen. The sun had set. Fiery clouds
traced across the sky. Down on the terrace the light was fading
into dusk. Heaters glowed. Warm lights popped on around the garden.
The deck was covered with beautiful women and handsome men, all
dressed exquisitely, laughing and talking with perfect ease. Maggie
shuddered. Presents of all sizes covered a table at the far end of
the terrace. What did someone get a woman like Brina Tremaine?

“Only about a hundred.” Drew
wore a strapless cherry silk dress, what there was of it, that
fitted her form exactly, and the highest-heeled red sandals Maggie
had ever seen. Her legs went on forever. Her hair was up in a
complicated knot. The dangly earrings hadn’t come from Target.
Maggie was pretty sure they were rubies. Her lipstick matched them
perfectly. The effect of all that red with her black hair and
creamy skin was intimidating. She waved a dismissive hand. “Mother
insists on keeping it small when it’s at the house.”

“A hundred?” What had she gotten
herself into? She didn’t fit here. She hadn’t felt like herself all
afternoon, even though she’d lain down in her room and tried to
rest. She felt kind of... tingly. Had she had a stroke or
something? That must be it. Or maybe it was a kind of migraine. She
didn’t have the money to go to a doctor. So if her normal self
didn’t fit at a Tremaine party, what about someone who didn’t even
feel like Maggie O’Brian? She’d probably have some epileptic fit or
something and put them all to sleep again. Having a connection to
animals was one thing. She was okay with that. But what had
happened today.... She didn’t know whether to be more afraid of
what she might be (whatever that was) or the hundred people on the
terrace.

Her eyes were drawn to a man
just turning away from the bar with what looked like a glass of
neat whiskey. The bartender was putting away a bottle of Jack
Daniels. But she knew who it was before she saw the Jack. She
wondered what blackmail had been applied to get him into a tux, but
she applauded the sentiment. The man filled out a tux real good. It
wasn’t all wrinkled like the rental Phil the Rat wore to the prom.
The way it was so smooth across those broad shoulders, it looked
like it was made just for him.

It probably was.

Where was his cast? Had he
managed to fit it under that tux? Not that she could see. But he
was limping a little. As she watched, he put one finger into his
collar and tugged. She had to smile. She knew how he felt. He took
a slug of the Jack and braced himself as two women whispered
together and then approached with simpering grins on their faces.
They were both real pretty. That made Maggie’s smile disappear.

“No more procrastinating,” Kee
said, coming into the bedroom with an armload of dresses. “You’re
next.” Kee was wearing midnight blue—kind of a shiny material with
a full skirt. Her hair waved down her back. Did all the Tremaine
girls have to be drop-dead gorgeous? “Tammy went down to promise
we’d be right there.”

Maggie backed up to the window
like a cornered animal. “I... I think I’ll just stay up here and
enjoy the view,” Maggie said. “Your mother won’t miss me.”

“Of course she will.” Drew began
sorting through the dresses Kee had dumped unceremoniously on the
bed. They were all frightening colors like fuchsia, or white with
bold splashes of color that might have been flowers, some so short
they didn’t look like dresses at all.

“I don’t have a birthday gift.”
Fear was turning into panic. She could
not
go down there.
What would she say to those people? Everyone would know she’d
borrowed a dress. No one like Maggie O’Brian could own a dress like
those that belonged to the Tremaine sisters. Her stomach started
doing flip flops.

“Like that matters.” Drew
glanced up at Maggie and frowned. She shot a glance to Kee. “Why
don’t you go down and help Tammy buy us some time, Kee?” she said
with exaggerated calm. “Send Jane up, will you?” She took both
Maggie’s upper arms and pushed her onto the big bed. “Sit down and
relax.” The furniture in Drew’s bedroom was all sleek and modern.
The spread was covered with appliqués of stars and moons, like a
wizard’s robe. “No one buys Mother real gifts anyway. Those boxes
are filled with certificates and cards, or maybe stuffed animals.”
Drew was making conversation while she rifled through the dresses.
“Mother insists that people make charitable contributions instead
of buying presents.”

Maggie realized her breath was
coming shallow and fast and tried to slow it. She didn’t want to
throw up all over Drew’s bedroom. “So... why stuffed animals?” she
managed to ask.

“Oh, that’s just symbolic. They
pledge a herd of goats to some village, or some cows or chickens or
something, then just stick a representation in a box with a note.
That’s one of Mother’s favorite charities. Makes the village
self-sufficient.”

Jane slid into the room and shut
the door. She was wearing soft blue that draped around her. It had
long, transparent sleeves. Drew held up a vibrant orange scrap of
fabric, looking desperate. Jane shook her head and Drew tossed it
into the pile with an exasperated sound.

Oh, this was just awful. Poor
Drew was trying to make Maggie fit in here, and she’d never fit in.
Never. Maggie got up convulsively.

Jane sat on the bed, smiling,
and pulled a wild-eyed Maggie down beside her. “Kee is an art
major. You know how dramatic they are,” she apologized. She glanced
up to Drew. “Why don’t you get out that lavender dress you bought
last month for the Finnegan wedding?”

“The one you said wasn’t me?”
Drew looked puzzled. “You were right. It was terrible.”

Jane sighed.

“Oh, right.” Drew cleared her
throat. “It wasn’t exactly
terrible
.” She disappeared
through a door into another room. When the light went on it was
revealed to be one huge closet stuffed full of clothes. “But I’m so
much taller than Maggie.... Do you think...?”

She emerged with a pile of
lavender chiffon, looking doubtful.

So
not Maggie.

Jane must have seen Maggie’s
look of horror. She began making soothing, clucking sounds. “Now,
now, just try it. Call it a whim of mine.” She pulled Maggie up and
glanced to Drew. “Can you go find your studs and the matching
necklace?”

“Right, right,” Drew muttered
and went to a tall cabinet. When she opened it, lines of hooks with
necklaces, and rows and rows of earrings on posts or stuck into
velvet were revealed. The whole thing was a gigantic jewelry
box.

Jane was pulling off Maggie’s
robe. “This seems like a bad idea,” Maggie protested.

“Now just step into this,” Jane
said. “You won’t need a bra.”

“She’s got more boobs than I
do.”

“And she likes to let them spill
out quite obscenely, so she wears her dresses too tight,” Jane said
firmly.

At least the dress had straps,
wide chiffon ones. The bodice was all swaths of chiffon that
intertwined over her breasts. Jane was right. She didn’t need a
bra. The skirt was swirly and fell to just above Maggie’s knees. On
Drew it would have revealed most of her thighs. “Let me see,” she
said, craning around Jane to the mirror.

“Absolutely not,” Jane said,
turning her around. As she zipped up the dress, the bodice closed
around Maggie with surprising firmness. Jane held out her hands to
Drew, who spilled something into them.

“Shoes?” Drew asked
doubtfully.

“I’ll break both legs if I wear
heels like that,” Maggie said, pointing to Drew’s sandals.

“Okay, Jimmy Choo and Manolo are
out.” Drew frowned as if that left no other choices.

“Go get Kee’s ballet slippers,”
Jane said calmly.

“The ones she wears with
slacks
?” Drew’s eyes opened wide.

“Yes.”

Drew nodded and dashed off.
Maggie wouldn’t have thought Drew knew how to dash. Or how to take
directions from her timid friend. But that one word had certainly
been an order.

Jane came around and put
earrings into Maggie’s ears and pulled a necklace around her neck.
She grabbed a chair and pushed Maggie into it, faced away from the
mirror.

“
You
must understand, of
all people,” Maggie pleaded, in a last-ditch attempt to avoid
disaster. “I don’t belong here.”

“Funny, I think that’s just how
Tristram feels.” Jane began brushing Maggie’s hair.

“I won’t know what to say to
people.” Maggie hated to admit she was pleading.

“Believe me, you won’t have to
say much of anything,” Jane said.

“Yeah, when they see me prancing
around in a borrowed dress, no one will talk to me at all.” The
laughter and conversation from the terrace floated up through the
window ominously.

Jane twisted Maggie’s hair up.
“I should think you’d want to support Tristram. I can see that he
feels comfortable with you, and these things tend to be difficult
for him.”

Jane was right. Hadn’t she come
with Tris specifically to back him up in the face of family? In the
last day, though, everything had gotten confused. His family wasn’t
horrible. Okay, Mr. Tremaine was a little intimidating. And Kemble
had been snotty this afternoon, but only to protect Tris. Who
wouldn’t think someone like Maggie wanted his money? Tris’s mother
was nothing short of wonderful. Lanyon and Devin were okay for
teenage boys. And the girls... well, they were all smart and funny,
and... really kind to fix her up.

“Just why is Tris so afraid of
his family?” The question kind of burst out of her. She felt she
had to explain. “I... I think they’re really nice.”

Jane worked on Maggie’s hair for
a minute, sticking pins here and there, before she answered. “I
guess he thinks he doesn’t measure up.”

Maggie snorted. “Every girl on
that terrace is angling to give him her phone number.”

“As if that’s what he
wanted...,” Jane murmured. “There.” She stepped back as Drew let
herself into the room waving a pair of shoes the color of old
silver. They weren’t really ballet slippers. But they had only a
little heel, and a rounded toe with a little rhinestone buckle.

“Put those on,” Jane ordered,
handing her tissues to put in the toes. She went to a dressing
table and pawed through several drawers, coming up with two
brushes, a jar, and a small case, along with a mascara wand. The
slippers fit pretty well, considering.

“Close your eyes.”

“Look, there’s no use trying to
make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear,” Maggie sighed.

Jane raised her brows. Maggie’s
shoulders sagged. They
were
being very nice. Disaster or
not, she couldn’t avoid this evening. “Just don’t make me look
cheap.”

“Would I do that?” Jane
whispered.

“You wouldn’t mean to,” Maggie
allowed. “But I’m not cut out for makeup.” Maggie felt some sweeps
across her brow bone and eyelids. A whisper of a brush across her
cheeks.

“Look up.” Two swipes of the
mascara on each eye.

“Okay, stand up.” Jane stood
back herself and exchanged a look with Drew. Jane was almost smug.
Drew was just blinking. Maggie turned around.

A strange woman looked out of
the mirror. It wasn’t Maggie O’Brian. She was short but well
proportioned. The dress made her look graceful as it swirled just
above her knees. The chiffon straps, wider at the shoulder, somehow
made her cleavage look bigger than it really was. Her neck was
elegant under her upswept hair. The simple studs and the sparkling
stone on an almost invisible chain were diamonds. Definitely not
cheap and not out of place either. And she had eyes much bigger and
greener than Maggie O’Brian’s were. Did the whisper of lavender on
her eyelids and the dress do that? No sign of the bruise on her
cheek, or the one on her sternum. When had they gone away?

“You are the prettiest sow’s ear
I’ve ever seen,” Drew said, smiling. “Now, let’s go save Tris from
the barbarian hordes.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Your brother says you build
fancy cycles and cars,” the one called Dawn said brightly.

Tris sighed. He’d bet his mother
invited them because they had Celtic last names. They weren’t
Drew’s friends. Too stupid. “So they say.” He looked over to Kemble
and lifted his glass in salute.
Good going, brother.
Kemble
had probably sicced the girls on him in a craven gesture of
self-preservation. Now that Tris looked more carefully, he saw that
it hadn’t worked. Kemble had his own three admirers. Kemble lifted
his glass in a world-weary return of the salute. Tris was surprised
the girls were still interested after they heard what he did. Guess
it was the bad-boy factor kicking in. They all liked to think they
were doing something dangerous, but at the same time they were sure
they could tame the beast.