The Summer of Sunshine and Margot(41)

While Bianca got a little outrageous when she was nervous, Margot knew she got too chatty. She scooped eggs onto her plate, added a couple of slices of bacon, along with a croissant, then told herself to stop talking.

Alec flipped through the ledger. “Where did you find this?”

“Up in the attic. There’s a lot up there. Some of it is just trash, but there are some historical items that probably should be cataloged. They might be of interest to the local historical society or a university.”

He looked at her and smiled. “You’re not afraid to go into the attic at night?”

“No. Ghosts aren’t my thing. And you’ll be pleased to know there wasn’t a single skeleton to be found.”

“That is lucky.”

She picked up her coffee. “The attic needs more exploring. After that, I’m going to be going through the cellar. I’ll do my best not to see any bones there, either.”

“I appreciate that.” He studied her. “I’ve lived here nearly five years and I’ve never done much more than go pick out wine in the cellar.” He smiled. “I always knew if I got started exploring, I wouldn’t stop until I’d combed every inch of the place and I haven’t had the time. I see I should have made more of an effort.”

“Absolutely. People lived here and died here for centuries. Every inch of it is beautiful. The carvings, the stained glass windows, the bell. Your house is very swoonworthy.”

“Is that how we’re describing it?” His voice was teasing. “I’ll accept the compliment on my house’s behalf.”

“You should.”

They smiled at each other. She felt a little zing of tension, which she ignored. It was enough to know Alec saw her as more than an appliance. She wasn’t going to push her luck. Still, it was nice to find a man other than Dietrich attractive. It meant there was hope for her after all.

“How are things with my mother?” he asked. “I didn’t see her around yesterday.”

“She stayed with Wesley until the early evening,” Margot admitted. “I got a text in the morning telling me she was skipping our lesson.”

“Are you surprised?”

“A little, but I’m trying to understand her more. She wants me to get the formal dinner scheduled as quickly as possible.”

“You sound worried.”

“I hope she’s enthused because she wants the practice and not as a distraction. I just don’t know which it is.”

“Does it matter?”

“Your mother is an intelligent woman—she could easily learn all the skills and customs she needs to be successful as Wesley’s wife. Which fork goes where isn’t the problem. It’s something deeper. A belief system. I’m starting to think she acts out because she doesn’t know what else to do in the moment. But knowing that is only half the battle. If I don’t know why, then it’s harder to overcome.”

“I understand your point, but I’m afraid I have no insight.”

“That’s okay. Are you still willing to have the dinner here?”

“Of course, but I might need to be schooled in the correct fork to use.”

She smiled. “We’ll have a refresher course before we head into the meal. I texted my sister last night and she spoke with her boss. They are happy to come. They’re bringing Connor, who’s eight. So the seven of us. I’ll speak to Edna today about a menu.” She smiled. “Sunshine said Connor told her icky grown-up food was okay as long as there was a good dessert.”

“I’m with Connor. Any dress code? Shall we go black tie?”

As much as she would love to see him in a tux... “I think we can wear regular clothes for the dinner. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m up for another round of what’s appropriate to wear with your mother. I’ve reached the place where I need to pick my battles and right now, that’s not one of them.”

“Knowing your limitations is the sign of a sound mind.”

“I shall embroider that on a pillow.”

  James and Jessica Neal were earnest, stubborn and unbelievably rich—traits Declan had never had a problem with separately or together. Until today. As the thirtysomething couple changed their minds, yet again, he gazed longingly at the large windows in the conference room at his offices and wondered if the three-story fall would maim him enough to get him off the project.

Heath Harter, his business partner, caught his gaze and nodded toward the windows, as if he, too, were suggesting they risk the consequences.

“It’s just we want to use as much acreage as we can,” Jessica said, her soft tone insistent. “We’re totally invested in making this property the best it can be—for our guests and everyone in the community. We want to be a good business neighbor.”

An admirable trait that had absolutely nothing to do with the conversation at hand.

“I’m sure the local residents appreciate that,” Declan said, hoping his impatience didn’t show in his voice. “It speaks well of you two and the project. However, what we’re discussing is whether or not you want us to design a walking trail up into the mountains.”

James, a bland-looking man with a receding hairline, smiled at his wife. “He’s right, Jess. Let’s stay on the walking trails. We like them, right?”