Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(37)
Then she actually solicited Marc’s help in gathering everything they would need to take Danny on even a short trip. She was pretty sure he had no idea just how involved traveling with a baby could be.
While she decided about which of her own items and outfits to pack, she put him in charge of gathering up Danny’s clothes and toys. Making sure they had enough diapers and wipes, bottles and formula. Blankets, booties, hats, infant sunscreen and more.
Vanessa kept thinking up new things to add to the list, hiding her amusement when Marc would begin to grumble and reminding him that returning to Pittsburgh was his idea. They could skip all of the fuss and muss, if he’d only agree to let her—and Danny—stay in Summerville.
Each time the topic came up, however, any mention of canceling the trip or of his going without them simply caused his jaw to go taut, and he would silently return to collecting Danny’s things or securing the safety seat in the back of his Mercedes.
By one the next day—because try as she might, she hadn’t been able to postpone any longer—they were standing on the curb, ready to leave. Danny was in his car seat, kicking his legs and gumming his very own set of brightly colored plastic keys, while Marc waited near the front passenger door. A few feet farther along the sidewalk, Vanessa and Aunt Helen stood hand in hand.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” her aunt asked in a hushed voice.
Oh, she was very sure she didn’t. But she couldn’t say that. Partly because she’d grudgingly agreed to go and partly because she didn’t want Aunt Helen to worry about her.
“I’m sure,” she lied, even though her fingers were chilled inside her aunt’s solid grip. “It will be fine. Marc just wants to introduce Danny to his family and take care of some business with the company. We’ll be back by the end of the week.”
Aunt Helen raised a brow. “I hope so. Don’t let them drag you down again, darling,” she added softly. “You know what it did to you last time, living under that roof. Don’t let it happen again.”
A lump formed in Vanessa’s throat, so large, she could barely swallow. Pulling her aunt close, she hugged her tightly and waited until she thought she could speak.
“I won’t,” she promised, blinking back tears.
When she could finally bring herself to pull away from her aunt’s embrace, she turned toward Marc and the waiting car. Though she knew he was eager to get on the road, his expression gave away nothing of his inner thoughts or feelings.
“Ready to go?” he asked in an even tone.
Since her throat was still tight with emotion, she could only nod before climbing into the front seat. Once her legs were tucked safely inside, he closed the door for her and she reached for the safety belt while he moved around to the driver’s side.
Flipping down the visor, she used the tiny rectangular mirror to make sure Danny was still okay, doing her best to ignore Marc’s sudden, overpowering presence as he slipped behind the wheel.
How could she have forgotten how small cars were? Even given the roominess of his sleek, black Mercedes with its supple, tan leather interior, it suddenly felt as though all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the air, making it hard for her to draw a breath.
After fastening his own seat belt, Marc turned the key in the ignition and the engine purred to life. Rather than pull right out, though, as she’d expected, they simply sat there for a moment. So long, in fact, that she turned her head to look at him.
“Is something wrong?” she asked, thinking that perhaps they’d forgotten something. Although how that could even be possible, she didn’t know. They’d packed just about everything but the kitchen sink, as the overstuffed trunk and half-stuffed backseat could attest.
“I know you don’t want to do this,” he said, his moss-green eyes glittering into hers. “But it’s going to be all right.”
She held his gaze for a moment, feeling that lump in her throat—which had finally started to recede—swell up again. Then she nodded before turning her attention back to the view straight in front of her.
But what she was really thinking was, Famous last words. Because she didn’t think there was any way that this little visit to Marc’s family could possibly be anything less than a complete disaster.
Twelve
Unfortunately, the drive to Pittsburgh flew by much more quickly than Vanessa would have liked. Before she knew it, they were pulling up the long, oak-lined drive to Keller Manor.
Every inch of blacktop that passed beneath the Mercedes’s tires made her heart beat faster and her stomach sink lower until she started to worry she might actually be sick.
Don’t be sick, don’t be sick, don’t be sick, she told herself, taking deep, even breaths and praying the mantra would work.
Marc pulled to a stop beneath the wide porte cochere and within moments a young man was opening her door, offering a hand to help her out, then rushing to open the rear door so she could see to Danny. Marc had obviously called ahead to let the family know he—or perhaps they—would be coming.
She’d never seen this particular young man before, but then, Eleanor Keller tended to go through household staff faster than allergy sufferers went through facial tissues. Marc’s mother also liked to have someone on hand to do her every bidding at the snap of her fingers. She employed gardeners, chefs, maids, a butler, an on-site mechanic and at least one personal assistant.