Jilo (Witching Savannah #4)(106)
“I asked you who she was,” Jilo said, keeping her voice firm.
Ginny climbed the steps and stood before her. Holding a hand out in front of her, she announced in a stentorian voice, “Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Taylor of Savannah”—Ginny was being so loud that, in spite of her earlier resolve, Jilo glanced around her shoulders to see if anyone was near—“are pleased to announce the engagement of their son Edwin to Miss Adeline Rose Connelly. Miss Connelly, a graduate of the internationally renowned Institut Alpin finishing school, is the daughter of Riley and Marguerite Connelly of Richmond, Virginia. A date has not yet been set.” She lowered her hand and turned toward the house’s door. “There, satisfied?”
She opened the door and stepped through. Jilo expected Ginny to slam the door behind herself, but instead she called out, “Are you coming in or not?”
Jilo rose and took a few cautious steps toward the opening. Ginny stood in the hall with her hands on her hips. As Jilo stepped over the threshold, Ginny raised her hands and motioned around the space. “Like it? It’s mine. All mine. Not my daddy’s, not my mama’s. Mine. Close the door behind you, please.” Jilo did as she was asked, and Ginny flipped on an overhead light.
Seemingly intent on providing Jilo with a tour of the place, Ginny raised her hands and turned a full circle. “The foyer,” Ginny said, referring to a wide, but altogether ordinary, hallway. Ginny pointed toward the entrance, and Jilo followed Ginny’s gesture to an old-style chair that sat right inside the door. “It’s a Savery.” Ginny nodded at the blank wall facing the chair. “Of course it’s posing me a bit of a problem as I have a smaller work on paper by Rothko I’d intended for that very spot, but then I found the chair and began questioning . . .”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but I didn’t come here to discuss decorating.”
Ginny shook her head. “No, I know you didn’t. It’s only I was thinking how much you and I are like that chair and the painting. Both,” she said, brushing past Jilo and placing a hand on the back of the chair, “of the highest quality.” She turned back to Jilo. “But so very different in our design.” She held a hand out to Jilo, but Jilo couldn’t bring herself to take it. Ginny let it fall back to her side. “I wasn’t allowed to hang the painting in my father’s house, but this house belongs to me. There’s room, and respect, for both Savery and Rothko in this house.” She cast a glance back up to the wall. “Oh dear,” she said, “would I be ruining my metaphor if I said I just decided that is entirely the wrong place for the Rothko?” She pursed her lips for a moment, then turned back to Jilo. “I’ll just leave that spot open for now, till the right work comes along.” She did an about-face and led the way into a sitting room on the left side of the hall.
Jilo stepped into the room, taking in the unexpected juxtaposition of antique furniture and cubist art. A sound caught her attention, and she turned to face a clock on the mantle that struck off each second, loud enough to wake the dead. Ginny motioned toward the sofa. As Jilo obeyed her unspoken request, Ginny crossed the room and retrieved a bottle of amber liquid from an unlocked tantalus. “Do you like scotch?”
Jilo shrugged. “Never tasted it.”
“Then you don’t like scotch,” Ginny said, pulling out the stopper and filling two tumblers almost to the rim. “But you’re going to learn to.” She crossed the room to Jilo and held one of the glasses out to her. Jilo took the drink, watching as Ginny swept her skirt to the side, bent her knees in a smooth, though Jilo reckoned practiced, motion, and sat down next to her on the sofa. “Until then, at least it’ll dull the pain.” She tipped the tumbler to her lips, downing a third in one draft. “So, how is Binah? Are she and Juliette settled?”
Jilo brought the tumbler up to her nose, uncertain she wanted to taste the witch’s brew it contained, uncertain she wanted to discuss Binah and her daughter with the sister of the man who’d wronged them. She took a taste of the scotch, almost coughing it back up. “That is vile.”
Ginny nodded and clinked her glass against Jilo’s. “Finish it. Doctor’s orders.”
Jilo took another sip. Prepared, this time, she managed to choke it down, appreciating the pleasant warmth flowing through her. “She’s got some crazy idea, Binah. Gonna take up singing. Like our mama did.”
“Doesn’t sound so crazy to me. Binah’s got a beautiful voice. And she’s a beautiful woman.”
“A beautiful woman who’s also a mother.”
“Oh,” Ginny said with a laugh. “She can afford help to watch over Juliette.” She took another deep gulp, grimacing and closing her eyes. When she reopened them, they were filled with fire. “I saw to that. I’ll be damned if our niece doesn’t get the best of everything.”
“Our niece,” Jilo said, taking a quick and pleasant sip of her drink, “and the one who’s on the way.” Ginny’s eyes flashed in surprise. Jilo nodded, pleased that she had managed to withhold a secret from this woman who seemed to read her every thought—until she was ready for that secret to be revealed.
“You’ve learned how to block me out, haven’t you?” Ginny raised her glass in salute. “I should be worried, but truth is, I’m a bit proud.” Her brow furrowed. “So my brother is to be a father again,” she said. Jilo nodded again. “God, I already regret the devil’s bargain I made with my kith and kin.”