The Summer's End (40 page)

“Except that you happened to be at Sea Breeze when all this transpired.”

“I came here for Mamaw's eightieth birthday party. Initially it was only supposed to be for a few days, but then she invited all of us girls to spend an entire last summer together at Sea Breeze. Like we did as children. Call it serendipity, but it just worked out that we could. You should know that Mamaw
informed us from the start that she was putting the house on the market at the end of summer. That was why this summer was so important. To all of us. Mamaw does
not
need my money, nor does she need me to buy her home. In fact, she has two offers on the table at this very moment to buy it.”

“I see,” Granny James said doubtfully.

“It's true. Oh, Granny, what can I tell you? I love it here. I belong here.” Harper waved an arm out toward the Cove. “Sea Breeze is a wonderful place and I
wanted
to buy it. I wanted to live here forever. I still do,” she added wistfully. “It feels like home.”

“And Greenfields Park? Don't you have affection for that place? Don't you feel it is your home?”

This was tender territory, and Harper didn't want to upset her grandmother. “Yes, of course I do. I have strong feelings for Greenfields Park because it's where you and Granddad live. Where I spent so much time growing up. But . . .” Harper looked at her grandmother, gauging her reaction.

Granny James sat as still as a cat but her eyes were watching Harper intently. “But . . .”

“But I don't feel like it's my home.” Harper could only offer the truth.

“I see,” Granny James said stoically. She looked at her hands.

There was a silent stretch. Harper heard the mournful creaking of wood as the dock moved with the tide, stretching tight the rope that bound it.

Granny James lifted her head and appeared ready for battle. “So you asked your mother for access to your trust fund.”

“Right. A purchase offer for Sea Breeze arrived. I panicked. I'd run out of time. I had to buy now or lose Sea Breeze forever.
The trust fund was my idea. You have to believe me. I wasn't asking for anything that wasn't mine. So, I gathered my courage, swallowed my pride, and called my mother.”

“Why her? Why not me?”

“Because she is the executor of my trust fund. I asked her if I could get the principal of my trust fund early so that I could buy the house.” Harper paused, feeling the bitterness well up inside her again at her mother's reaction. “I was naive to ask her for help. I don't know why I thought she'd respond as a mother. Concerned. Wanting me to be happy. You'd think I'd have learned by now.”

Granny James didn't respond.

“You know what happened next. What always happens with Mummy when she doesn't get her way. She ranted and railed against me, Mamaw, and my father, and the whole Muir lineage. It was terrible. She threatened to cut me off if I didn't return to New York immediately. You know her well enough to know that she'd do it, too. I was distraught. Confused. I'm ashamed to admit I was a breath away from being the meek daughter and returning home at her command. As I always have. As she expected.”

Granny James tilted her head, her eyes bright. “But you didn't.”

“No.” Harper smiled a bit, embarrassed. “I told her to take her money and shove it.”

Granny James raised her brow.

“Then I got in my car and drove straight to see Taylor. It was instinctive. I knew I wanted to be with him. That I'd be safe with him.” Harper paused and said with tenderness, “That's when he asked me to marry him.”

“Now we're at the part that concerns me most.”

“My getting married?”

“Of course. You're my only granddaughter.” Granny shifted her weight, frowning. “Georgiana told me that this man is, to put it mildly, a gold digger.”

Harper felt her blood begin to boil anew. “Is that all?” She smirked. “He wasn't giving me drugs, too?”

“Don't mock me. I've just flown thousands of miles across the ocean to—”

“To save me.”

“Quite frankly, yes.”

Harper saw that love in her grandmother's eyes and lowered her shoulders. “I love you, but I don't need saving.”

Her grandmother sighed heavily. “I love you, too, dear. But the rest remains to be seen.”

“Oh, please . . .” Harper put her face in her hands with a dramatic moan.

“Tell me. Does your young man, this Taylor McClellan”—Granny waited till Harper dropped her hands and was paying attention—“does he know about your trust fund?”

“Yes.”

Granny James looked like the cat who ate the canary. “I see.”

“I told him that I lost it when I decided to stay here. That I gave it all up.”

“But you haven't lost it. You'll inherit when you turn thirty.”

“I know that. Mummy told me. But Taylor does not.”

“Ah.”

“He asked a penniless, homeless girl to marry him.” Harper's eyes suddenly filled with tears. “Oh, Granny, I've waited my whole life for this man. Someone who loved
me.
” Harper brought her fist to her heart. “Without my bloody fortune.”

“But you've only just met him.”

“But we've
had a connection since the moment we met.”

“Oh, Harper . . .”

“Such things do happen, Granny,” Harper insisted stubbornly.

A winsome smile spread across Granny's face, one laced with memory. “I know. But marriage is not to be taken lightly. One mustn't confuse love and lust with commitment. Love is a sprint. Marriage is a marathon. An endurance race, if you will.”

“I know all that, Granny, I've dated many men.”

“Please, spare me the details.”

Harper laughed.

“But what about Howard Salisbury?” Granny James asked in the tone of a last-ditch effort. “He's such a nice young man. So handsome. And a peer! He's quite taken with you, asks after you all the time. I thought you two were quite an item.”

“Howard is in love with Greenfields Park, not me.”

Granny James frowned. “Don't be so sure. The Salisburys are a fine family.”

“And so are the McClellans. Granny, I've always known I would marry for love. That I wouldn't settle.” Harper patted her grandmother's hand in a manner that indicated the conversation was ending. “Why don't you wait to meet him and form your own opinion?”

“Indeed. I'd like to meet this young man.”

“Super. Because he's coming for dinner tonight.”

I
t was a night for surprises.

Mamaw was dressed to the nines, as Edward had liked to say whenever she stepped out of her dressing room in a new gown and paraded for him like a runway model. It was a silly game, but one they'd both enjoyed.

She let her palm rest against the waist of the raspberry-colored silk gown that, like all her other gowns, held her so tight she could barely breathe. She inhaled, feeling the constricting cloth against her belly. Why did everything she ate seem to go directly to her belly?

She released her breath and let her gaze survey her sage-green dining room. A satisfied smile eased across her face. At least here everything was perfect. She'd outdone herself tonight. The long Sheraton table was draped with her finest Belgian linen. She'd polished her silver until it shone under the crystal chandelier like fallen stars. Penta, roses, and other flowers from Harper's
garden were in low vases trimmed with leathery, dark Magnolia leaves. From the kitchen she heard the clatter of dishes as the caterer prepared their meal.

She rested her hands on the back of a Chippendale chair as memories of other dinner parties flitted through her mind. Back in the day, at her great house on East Bay, her parties were legendary in Charleston. She was reputed to be a favorite hostess south of Broad. She felt a flush of pleasure at the memory.

Far fewer parties had been held here at Sea Breeze. Her life had changed dramatically after Edward died. Goodness, she could count on one hand the number of parties she'd thrown here. The last was the previous May, when her granddaughters arrived to celebrate her eightieth birthday. She chuckled, remembering. What a night that had been! The laughter and secrets had flowed with the brut rose champagne.

Yes, she loved parties. Loved an excuse to throw one. She had to seize this moment while Sea Breeze was still in her hands for one last hurrah. Harper wanted to introduce her young man to her grandmother. And, she thought with a smile, she wanted to take this opportunity to introduce a gentleman friend of her own . . . Girard.

She glanced at her watch. He would be arriving soon. Straightening, she walked through the living room, smiling at her granddaughters, Taylor, Devlin, and Imogene as she passed to the foyer. There she stood by the front door, hidden from view, and waited, gathering her thoughts. It was perfectly normal for her to invite a dear friend to the dinner party, she told herself. Nothing to feel nervous about. Yet, pressing her palm flat against her jittery stomach, she felt just that. Like a young girl on her first date. The girls had all met Girard before, of course.
But this was the first time she was bringing him into their home as an invited guest. The invitation implied more than neighborliness. She only hoped Dora would keep her tongue.

The doorbell rang, startling her. Taking a calming breath, Mamaw opened the door. The sight of Girard had her releasing the breath in a sigh. He looked especially handsome tonight, even debonair in his navy jacket and red tie. His blue eyes shone with warmth against his dark tan.

“Marietta,” he said, handing her a bouquet of roses and freesia. The scent rose up, heady and sweet. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you, Girard. Please come in,” she said nervously, and stepped aside.

Girard waited in the foyer until she closed the door. “It's been a very long time since I've been inside Sea Breeze. I've stared at the back of the house from my dock for years. I'd forgotten how charming this house is.” He winked at her. “Like its mistress.”

Mamaw felt a brush creeping up her neck. “You silly coot. Come, let me introduce you to my family. Before you turn my head.”

When she stepped into the living room with Girard by her side, all talking ceased as heads turned their way. The girls stared back with obvious curiosity and surprise. Mamaw noticed Imogene's brow rise with interest as she sipped her drink.

“You remember Girard Bellows?” she asked the girls. “Our neighbor.”

“Oh, you mean . . .” Dora, on the direct line of a freezing glare by Mamaw, cut her comment short. She'd been about to call him by Nate's nickname from earlier that summer,
Old Man Bellows.
Dora held out her hand and smoothly shifted to “You're the kind man who helped Nate with his fishing.”

“How is that young man?” Girard asked.

“Very well, thank you. You'll see him at dinner.”

“Good.”

Carson and Devlin stepped up for an introduction, both on their best behavior. After a few polite queries, they stepped aside for Taylor and Harper.

“The guests of honor,” Mamaw announced, ushering them closer. “Girard, my granddaughter, Harper, and her fiancé, Taylor.” The word
fiancé
slipped easily from her lips, feeling right. She noticed, however, that Imogene stiffened slightly with disapproval at hearing the introduction.

Finally, Mamaw drew Girard toward Imogene, standing alone a few feet away, clutching her drink with both hands. Imogene was wrapped in a cocoon of midnight-blue silk that accentuated her well-kept figure. The diamonds in her ears and on her wrist shone like stars. Or small planets, Mamaw thought with distaste. Imogene looked up as they approached, her gaze settling on Girard.

“Imogene, I'd like you to meet my friend Girard Bellows.”

Imogene smiled then, quite coquettishly. “The neighbor,” she said. “But I do not detect a southern accent.”

“Guilty as charged,” Girard replied. “I'm from the North. Connecticut.”

“Really?” Imogene said, her gaze appraising. “Charming.”

A waitress in black pants and white shirt stepped closer to Mamaw. “There's a question for you in the kitchen.”

“Thank you.” She turned to Girard. “Excuse me a moment. Will you freshen Imogene's drink?”