Chapter Eight
Confusion
Rowan
When Reggie and Zee arrive for dinner, my chest caves. Ava’s not with them. “Hello, Miss Benedict,” I force a smile. “Welcome to my humble home.”
Her eyes are wide as they circle the vast foyer. White marble floors are dotted with small, brown diamonds. Arches overhead with images of blue skies and clouds painted on the ceiling, and the Occitan cross sprinkled throughout.
“It’s amazing,” she whispers, looking around. Her eyes snap back to me when Cal appears at the top of the curved staircase.
“Hello, below!” He trots down the stairs, but when he reaches us, my uncle leaves his escort and walks toward him.
“Cal, would you mind showing me a map of the vineyards at Cote d’Azur?”
“What?” My brother’s sunny disposition dims.
“Yes, I was telling a colleague the folle noir was outstanding. I want to see which vineyard he should visit.”
“Right now?”
“Come, come, it will only take a moment.”
The two of them set off in the direction of the library, and I’m left alone with Miss Benedict. She’s wearing beige leggings and a pale grey tunic sweater made of a fuzzy yarn like Mohair. One shoulder is exposed, and her pale blonde hair is styled in large curls over it. Her eye makeup makes me think of that singer.
Zelda Benedict is actually quite lovely. I look down at my hands as we walk through the entryway into the left hall. Mother is at the spa in Marins, so it’s up to me to play host.
“I hope your friend isn’t ill.” Yep, no getting away from where my mind is.
“She said she was tired. I’m sure it’s nothing serious.” Zelda’s voice is soft. At times, it reminds me of Ava’s, but I suppose it’s because they’re friends.
We’re in the living room, and I’m looking at the wet bar in the far corner. “Would you like a glass of champagne?”
She glances up and smiles. “It would be the real thing here, wouldn’t it?”
“It is from the Champagne appellation.”
I pour us each a glass of Canard-Duchene and we do a little clink.
“Mmm,” she sighs. “It’s delicious. Not bitter or sweet.”
“It’s my mother’s favorite.”
She walks to the small fountain stationed in the center of the wall. It flows down to a grate and provides ambient noise.
“Your life here is so lovely.” Her thoughts seem to be miles away. “I can’t imagine growing up like this, without a care in the world.”
I wasn’t prepared for her comment, and I pause a moment to think about how our lives here must appear. “Before my father died, I was quite selfish. I did whatever the hell I wanted to do without worrying about anyone.”
“Are you saying you’ve changed?”
I exhale a laugh. “No, I’m still quite selfish. The only difference is now I lament the things I wish I could do while I work on the things I should.”
“I suppose that’s the definition of being noble.”
“Something like that.”
Cal’s teasing voice cuts through our sudden solemnity. “Those are some seriously long faces to be sharing champagne. Pour me a glass, brother.”
“I’ll have one of those as well, Rowan.” Reggie says. “Your mother has excellent taste in wine.”
“Find what you were looking for back there?” I call, walking to the bar for two more glasses.
“Domaine de Toasc,” Reggie answers.
Zee seems suddenly on edge. She moves from the fountain over to where my uncle is standing as if for protection. I’ve just finished pouring when James enters the room.
“If your graces are ready, dinner is served.”
Zee takes Reggie’s arm, and we proceed through double doors into a dining room off the side of the living area. I’ve always appreciated the interior design of this room. The walls are beige stone, and exposed beams line the ceiling. A heavy mahogany table is in the center, with heavy, red-upholstered chairs surrounding it. Heavy red drapes hang beside enormous French-door windows overlooking the sea. It’s one of my favorite rooms in the house, strong and rugged.
Since it’s only the four of us, I sit at the head with Zelda on my left and Reggie on my right. Cal takes the seat on Zelda’s left.
“It’s been a while since I’ve dined at this table,” Reggie sighs. His observation pricks my annoyance at his return, but I let it pass.
“We don’t normally open the house this early in the season,” Cal says. “Mother wanted to come out. She missed being close enough to walk along the shore in the morning air.”
“It must be lovely to walk along the shore at sunrise.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Cal laughs. “I’m more of a ‘walk along the shore at sunset’ type.”
Her cheeks pink, and she looks down. It’s the softest I’ve seen Miss Benedict in the short time I’ve known her. I want to ask her about San Angelo, but the servers fill the room, setting gold-rimmed plates of dark green salads in front of each of us. Our champagne glasses are refilled, and I take a moment to do a little toast.
“To familiar places and new friends.”
We all touch our crystal together and dig into the bitter greens softened by the balsamic vinaigrette, feta, and cranberries. I catch Miss Benedict checking out the tall bodyguard passing outside the windows. Our eyes meet, and she gives me a little smile.
“I suppose you don’t even see them after a while.”
“Not true,” I say, returning her smile. “I’m actually very good friends with some of them. Comes with having them around everywhere.”
“Is it hard knowing they might stop someone from trying to kill you?”
“I don’t think about it that much. Thanks for reminding me.”
“Oh! I’m so sorry.” She blushes bright red, which makes me laugh.
“I was only teasing you,” I say gently.
I reach out and cover her hand with mine. She starts to pull away, but at the same time, she checks herself and doesn’t. Strange.
My brother’s eyes are on our hands, and he breaks in. “Personally, I always feel better when ole Odd Job is behind the wheel.”
“Odd job?” she laughs, removing her hand from mine. “Isn’t that the guy from James Bond?”
“Are you still harassing poor Hajib?” Reggie says in mock disapproval. “You haven’t called him his proper name since you were boys.”
“He loves being called Odd Job,” Cal argues. “He never stopped us from saying it.”
“I’d like to see you correcting the future kings of Monagasco.” Our uncle quirks an eyebrow, and I can’t help remembering the days when my father was still alive.
We would come here in the late summers, and the three adults would congregate in the living room talking and laughing while Cal and I played chess or ran down to the shore to hunt for ghost crabs hiding in the dunes.
Our entrées are served—dried cod with tomato and spices—and a delicate pastry for dessert. The plates are removed, and Reggie stands and goes to the terrace doors, pulling them open. A warm breeze tipped with a hint of brine fills the air.
“That does it,” Cal cries, jumping up. “We’re taking a walk on the shore.”
He catches Zee’s hand and pulls her up. I chuckle and follow along, leaving my shoes on the smooth marble stones beside theirs and picking up a flashlight before following them down the long path to the water’s edge.
The estate is situated on a little cove protected by an outcropping of rocks, and as such, the beach is calmer than elsewhere, more like a lake. The moon is just rising over the crystal waters, and Cal rolls up his khakis. Zee is ankle-deep in the water kicking small sprays at him.
“Stop,” Cal says calmly, which only makes her do it more. “I’m going to dunk you if you don’t stop.”
Naturally, she does it again, and he makes a lunge. She screams and takes off running. I only laugh watching them, especially when Cal gives up after only a few steps.
“My stomach is too full to run,” he complains.
I switch on the light, and a handful of ghostly white crabs scurry away. Zee’s back at my side holding my arm and watching.
“I love chasing ghost crabs,” she whispers. “Look how big yours are!”
“That’s what she said,” Cal whispers from my other side.
I shine the light on one, and it freezes in place for a moment, watching us before scampering away. Zee has my sleeve in a death grip.
“I thought you said you liked chasing them?” I tease.
“Just as long as they run away from us.” She laughs, but it’s fast and nervous. It makes me laugh.
“You’re afraid of them.”
“I am not,” she says, jerking as my light hits another closer in our path.
I hear Cal sneaking up behind us, and suddenly Zee screams.
“Oh—OH!” It’s so loud, I nearly drop the flashlight. “Oh! Ow!”
She tugs my arm on the way down, and now she’s sitting on the sand, holding her foot, a pained look on her face.
“Are you okay?” I’m trying not to laugh.
“No…” She’s not crying, and I shine the light all around looking for whatever caused her injury.
“Did you trip over something?”
“Are you bleeding?” Cal is on his knees beside her.
“No,” she wails louder. “I’m such an idiot! I stepped on a crab, and when I jumped to get off of it, I twisted my ankle.”
We both lift her under the arms, helping her scoot back out of the surf.
“Do you think you can walk on it?” I ask.
She nods. “I’ve hurt this ankle before. I think it’ll be okay.”
Cal takes the light from me and shines it on her foot. “It’s swollen. You’ll have to spend the night.”
“What!” Zee cries, trying to rise. “Oh!” She instantly drops to sitting again.
“You’re staying the night. We have plenty of rooms and we can have a doctor here first thing in the morning to check you out.”
“I’m not spending the night. I don’t need a doctor!”
“No more arguments. Rowan?” My brother looks up at me. I’ve been frowning the entire time, unsure what to make of this.
“He’s probably right. Better safe than sorry, and we’ve got more than enough room.”
“But what about my s… sleepwear? Ava won’t know what to think.”
I feel pretty sure she wasn’t about to say sleepwear, but I let it pass. “I’m sure we can find something for you to sleep in, either something of Mother’s or—”
“Good heavens! Not a muumuu. I have T-shirts and things she can borrow.”
Zee sits for a moment blinking back and forth between us, until at last she sighs. “As long as I can call Ava and let her know what’s happening. She’s probably already asleep, but I don’t want her to worry.”
I consider offering to make that call, but I don’t. “Of course. We’ll carry you back to the house.”
We pull her up and start walking with her between us, one arm over each of our shoulders. She’s quite a bit shorter than us, especially with her shoes off, and with every hop, she jerks our necks down.
“This isn’t going to work,” I growl, stepping forward and sweeping her into my arms. She lets out a little noise, but I start walking, holding her firmly against my chest. “Trust me, this is far more comfortable.”
Cal seems a bit miffed, but he doesn’t say anything. He follows behind us on the path.
“Now I really feel like Cinderella,” Zee says softly, putting one hand on my shoulder.
She’s warm in my arms, and I study her in the moonlight. Is Reggie right? Could this girl truly solve all my problems? She’s energetic and fun, and she loves to laugh. She loves the ocean. All are traits I look for in a woman. She’s light and free-spirited, and I’m just noticing in this light… she’s beautiful.
Her cheeks are flushed from running on the beach, and her hair hangs in messy waves around her soft shoulders. Her lips are full and pink, and something about her reminds me of Ava. Ava. It all goes back to Ava.
Zee’s watching me with equal intensity, and I realize I should say something. “I hope your foot doesn’t hurt too much.”
“It feels okay, actually.” Her voice is quiet. “It really is an old injury. It’ll probably be fine in the morning.”
“Still, we should have it checked out.”
“I’m afraid you’re both overreacting.”
“It’s swollen, and you can’t walk. We’re not overreacting.”
Her bottom lip goes between her teeth, and I wonder if I should try kissing her. Just to see if something happens. I haven’t kissed Ava yet… My brow lines, and I almost growl. I can’t get her out of my head.
Zee misinterprets my mental distress. “I’m sorry. I’m too heavy. You don’t have to carry me.”
“No… it’s not that.” Racking my brains… “I was just thinking I need to find a nightgown for you to wear.”
“It’s too much trouble. I can go back to the Fontaine.”
“It’s no trouble at all. You’re staying here. That’s an order.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “By order of the king?”
I exhale a laugh at the gruffness in my tone. “By request.”
“In that case, how can I say no?”