Unease danced along Diana’s skin. Unease having nothing to do with twilight turning to night. Unease not caused by the stirring of a possum in the tree above or the far away yip of a coyote. All those things were natural, predictable, recognizable. Unlike Andrew, who was muttering something about poker hands when he wasn’t staring back at her, or tripping over the darkening path in a headlong rush back to the cabin.
His peculiar behavior followed them back to the porch where he dropped to his seat across from his uncle and poured himself a large quantity of whiskey. He downed half the glass in a long draw, before plunking it on the table and raking his hands through his hair.
Taking her seat across from him, Diana scrapped and stacked everyone’s dishes. “I’ve already got some hot water going, so it won’t take me long to get these washed up.” What did it matter to her the reason for Andrew “coming over strange” as her grandmother would have called it? She had enough on her hands with her mother and Neville, who were whispering quietly to each other as if Diana and Andrew were invisible. “But I don’t mind admitting right about now a dishwasher would be a divine thing.”
Andrew lowered his glass. A drop of whiskey glistened on his lower lip. “Above indoor plumbing?”
His dark chuckle gave her goose bumps. “Maybe?” Diana tried not to return his smile. What was so amusing about ranking amenities? “Ask me again at midnight when I’m stumbling out back.”
Their gazes connected, something passing between them. There it was again. The sloe-eyed look he gave whenever she made a joke. She leaned in. “You okay?” Was he sick?
“Certainly.” He took a sip from the glass. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You looked…” How? Like dinner didn’t agree with him. Homesick? “Pensive.”
“It’s been a long day. That’s all.” His words came out in a lazy string just this side of a drawl.
“Speaking of long days.” Jackie yawned and stretched. “I’m headed off to bed.” She gestured toward the right pen housing the double bed.
“I’ll be along shortly. Please don’t hog the whole bed.”
“Diana.” Mama cocked her head.
“What? I don’t want a repeat of when we went to Biloxi for your birthday. I’m too old to fall off the bed.”
“Sweetie, you aren’t the one who’ll be my bedmate tonight.”
“Oh.” Her cheeks heated. It never occurred to Diana her mother and Neville would… She shook her head to clear away the mental image. “Mama, no.” Embarrassment aside, if Jackie and Neville were intimate, it would be much harder to break them up. “What would Pastor Beecham think if he found out?”
Mama pursed her lips. “Who’s going to tell him?”
Diana grasped for another rational. “What about Granddaddy Dansfield? You know he can see you from heaven.” A wild excuse, true, but she was as low on options as a bride tardy to a Kleinfeld sale.
“Pish-posh.”
“Don’t you want to wait until your wedding night?” she asked, praying that particular horse hadn’t already left the barn.
Finally, Andrew joined the fray. “As the future Duchess of Effingham, you have to understand there’s a proper way of doing things. One must keep up appearances.”
Neville stood, holding Jackie’s seat for her. “Well, my boy, Jackie and I are going to give the appearance of being a modern couple.”
“But Mama.” Panic seized her chest. “That, that leaves me to bunk up with—”
Andrew choked. “Excuse me. Sorry. Went down the wrong way.”
She cut her eyes at him. “I’m not any happier about it than you are; believe me.” Why hadn’t she thought this part through when she conjured up this brilliant plan? She massaged the twitch over her right brow. “Perhaps I can sleep out here on the porch.”
Andrew waved away her offer. “No, I’ll do it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Neville said. “We’ll all be family soon, so there’s nothing wrong with you two taking the loft.”
Diana’s stomach lurched. “Oh, my goodness—”
“—will not be relations.” Andrew tossed back the rest of his drink.
“You two work things out however you like.” Jackie took Neville by the hand. “We’re retiring for the night.” She pecked Diana on the cheek. “Sleep tight and don’t let the bed bugs bite.” With that she and Neville crossed to the other pen and closed the door.
“I’ll be fine to sleep out here.” Andrew smacked at a mosquito that landed on his arm, garnering a bloody smear for his efforts. “Really.”
“No, what you’ll be, is in need of a transfusion.” She let out a breath. “Seriously, we’re making a mountain out of a molehill. There are two twin beds up there.” She took a stack of dishes inside and filled the sink with hot water.
Andrew followed with the remaining dishes, and after placing them with the others, took up position next to her at the sink. “True, and there’s enough room to move them further apart if you feel uncomfortable.”
“Not necessary.” She handed him the first of the soapy glasses to rinse. “I doubt you’re planning on ravaging me in my sleep.”
He fumbled the glass, only barely saving it from crashing to the floor. “What? No! Why would you suggest a thing like that?”
“Ignore me. I’m making inappropriate jokes to cover for the fact my mother is across the way having sex. I never dawned on me she had that side to her life.”
“I can understand. You’ve always been her caretaker, so your roles have been almost reversed.”
“Nailed it exactly. Sounds like you have experience in that department.”
“Not until recently.” Their hands touched as she passed him another glass. “But I can see it’s been a way of life for you.”
There was that unease again, giving her goose bumps and making the hairs on her neck stand up. Maybe she was unaccustomed to empathy since folks in her world dolled it out with the same clenched fist as her grandmother did her famous Christmas divinity candy. The revelation still wouldn’t make it any easier to pass the night a few feet from him.
After draining the sink, she dried off her hands. “All done here. I’ll go up first and get into my PJs.”
He swallowed hard. “Call when you want me to come up.”
Upstairs, she took a moment to appreciate the tidy loft with its rustic furniture and white cotton curtains. Andrew had made up the side-by-side beds with matching summer-weight quilts. He’d even tucked the ends in with proper right-angle corners. Topping off his homemaking skills, he’d raised the windows at either end to draw a cross breeze and brought up a pitcher of water and two glasses.
Using the water from an old-fashioned pitcher and bowl, Diana cleaned up before slipping out of her jeans and T-shirt. Despite the cool water Andrew provided, a rivet of perspiration trickled down her neck as she reached around her back to unhook her bra. Even if the underwire hadn’t been cutting into her all day, releasing the girls was one of the highlights of her evening. The edge of her favorite pair of shorty pajamas stuck out from the top of her duffle bag. Mocking her and the cool relief it could offer. Mocking her naïve belief Jackie led a chaste life. Mocking her for the attraction to Andrew that Diana could barely keep under control.
She riffled through the bag and pulled out a tank top and cotton shorts. “Thanks, Mother,” she grumbled, slipping under the sheet. After lowering the lantern, she called to Andrew. “Come on up.”
The wooden ladder creaked then his head peeked above the floor. “You decent?”
“Not according to the women at Greenville First Presbyterian, but I am fully clothed under this sheet.”
He padded to his bed, sitting with his back to her. “I sense a story there.” His shoes hit the floor. “I’d like to hear it if you will.” He paused. Leaning across the bed he extinguished his lantern.
“Only if you share in return.”
The soft rustle of clothes followed. “We will be up all night if you want to hear the tales of my misspent youth.”
That was the idea. She needed something to get her mind off the damage to her store, a dozen itchy bug bites, and the fact her mother was shacked up across the way. “Tell me about your parents. Do you see them often?”
“I see them a few times a year when I come through London.”
“Siblings?”
“I’m an only child as well. Eventually I’ll inherit my father’s title as well as Uncle Neville’s.”
“The weight of two dynasties rest fully on your shoulders.”
“Too right. Some days it seems hardly worth the handful of titles it comes with.”
And the money. Surely it took millions of pounds to keep up the estates and finance Andrew’s playboy lifestyle.
“What about your paterfamilias?”
“My so-called father walked out on Mama and me. That’s when we moved in with Granddaddy and Grandmother Dansfield. I haven’t seen hide nor hair of my daddy since.”
“Tell me about your grandparents. They seem to have been a positive influence on your upbringing.”
“I can’t imagine what my childhood would have been like without them. At the very least, they were my example of what a good and healthy relationship looks like. When I’m finally ready to settle down, I won’t settle for anything less than what those two had—two equals working toward the same purpose.”
The bed creaked as Andrew shifted. “I know the qualities I’m looking for in the next Duchess of Effingham, despite never having seen it in real life.”
“I take it you’re not referring to my mother.”
“Are you doubting our plan?”
“No, just checking. Tell me about the lofty ideals this woman must attain to be found worthy. I assume you’ve got to choose someone with the same social standing.”
“That’s partly it. There are other criteria—more mercenary boxes to tick off. However, I have other expectations, a wish list of sorts, I believe will make us a good match.”
“Let’s hear them.”
“I want someone who’s kind, gracious, appreciates the past and those who carved it. She needs to love children and be committed to not only bringing forth the next generation but raising our children to be good people.”
Surprise zinged through her. “She sounds—” Unexpected tears clogged her throat. “She sounds lovely.” And the same qualities she wanted in a husband. “I hope you find her.” She’d all but given up hope fate would send her such a man.
“Now it’s my turn. I’d like to hear more about your grandfather. He sounds like quite the character, despite your assurances he would not have liked my uncle and me.”
“I don’t know…maybe he would have learned to tolerate you.” She rubbed at the center of her chest. Three years later, it still hurt to talk about the most important man in her life. “I owe everything I am to my Granddaddy. He believed in me, gave me words of wisdom, and treated me like I was important.” For a child growing up with a self-absorbed parent, this positive influence couldn’t be underestimated.
“I feel the same way about my uncle. That man is more father—” Andrew cleared his throat. “Anyway, that’s why I’ve been so protective about him.”
“Speaking of which, how do you think he’s doing?”
“He’s uncomfortable; that’s for certain, but he’s not exactly miserable enough to throw in the towel.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Jackie is completely oblivious to his limited experience, fatigue, or his sore muscles.”
“Welcome to my world.” At age six, she’d come down with chicken pox over a long weekend. It wasn’t until she showed up at school covered in itchy scabs she’d received anything to relieve the discomfort.
“What are you going to do?”
“Me? How long is your uncle going to put up with that? She’s my mother, so I’m stuck with her. He’s still got options.”
“You’re right. Perhaps I’ll have a word with him in the morning about standing up for himself. Like you said earlier, he should start out as he means to go on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” A warm breeze caressed her cheek. Her eyelids grew heavy.
In the distance, thunder rumbled. “Do we need to worry about that?” The scent of rain wafted in through the open window.
“Not unless it starts coming in through the windows.”
Several moments passed with only the growing sound of thunder filling the air.
“Diana?” The low timbre of his voice reached across the room.
“Yes?”
“Do you still wish for a dishwasher over indoor plumbing?”