Читать книгу Once in a Lifetime - Gwynne Forster - Страница 9

Alexis crawled into bed long after midnight, having survived a day in which she’d turned her life around, hurtling from society matron to live-in housekeeper, from college teacher to a woman with limited means of earning a living. At nine o’clock yesterday morning, the judge had banged his gavel and finally closed her custody case for all time, thwarting Jack Stevenson’s last effort to take their child from her. Jack had badgered and threatened her until she relinquished her share of their joint property in exchange for Tara’s custody. A month later, supported by his enormous wealth and high-priced lawyers, he challenged her fitness as a mother, as if to break her spirit by depriving her of her only remaining treasure. All of her savings had gone to lawyers’ fees, but she had her child, and that was all that mattered.

She leaned over the sleeping little girl—conscious that they were sharing a bed for the first time—and closed her eyes in gratitude. Tara was hers, and the future was bright, or would be if… She bolted upright and tremors streaked down her limbs as she recalled Telford Harrington and her reaction to him. She still felt the shock of seeing the man for the first time, of looking into hazel-brown eyes that mesmerized her, of having the stuffing knocked out of her. When she’d finally gotten back in her room, her fingers shook so badly that she could hardly remove her shoes. She didn’t know how she’d do it, but she’d deal with it. She had to; her life and that of her child depended on it. She kissed Tara’s cheek and turned out the light.

She had a home for herself and Tara and she could save a little money. But what if… Perspiration matted her hair. If he discovered her education and social status in mainline Philadelphia, he’d fire her as an imposter. She prayed he wouldn’t investigate her. She hadn’t lied, but no sane man would have hired her as a housekeeper if he knew the life she’d lived.

Alexis didn’t know how long she counted sheep, but she awoke from peaceful oblivion to hear Tara say, “I wanna go eat, Mummy. Mr. Henry’s cooking something for me.”

“In a minute, and say please.”

“Please.”

She dressed Tara and then herself and went downstairs, where Telford and Drake sat at the table in the kitchen. Drake got up immediately and went to the breakfast room to get two chairs.

“I hope you slept well,” Telford said when they greeted each other, warily, like two cats who’d lost their night vision.

“Well as could be expected.”

He stopped chewing and looked directly at her. “What do you mean by that? If you weren’t comfortable, I’ll get you some new mattresses. Today.”

“I was very comfortable, and the room is delightful. But… Telford, I’ve just changed my life. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

She had his full attention then, and her nerves rioted as his piercing gaze focused on her, his beloved sausage and grits momentarily forgotten. “If you have a problem you think I can help you with, let me know. That’s what I’m here for.”

She hadn’t expected that show of compassion, and her eyebrows arched sharply. “I appreciate that, Telford, but if you and I get along well, that’s all the help I think I’ll need. Now where on earth did Tara go?”

He waved his fork in the direction of the kitchen stove. “She’s over there admiring Henry. I hope she can get him to cook something other than hamburgers, steaks and chops. I’ve begun to hate that stuff.” Something suggestive of pain streaked across his face.

“I’ll see what I can do about that. Not to worry.”

He stared at her for a long time before he asked, “You can cook?”

“Wouldn’t you expect a housekeeper to be able to cook? You bet I can.”

“Right on!” Drake said, walking back to the table holding two stacked chairs in one hand and Tara by the other. “Maybe we’ll get some variety in these meals.”

Telford’s face creased into a smile. “If Henry hears you say that, we’ll be eating cabbage stew until he decides he’s had adequate revenge.”

“Tell me about it. You going to Baltimore this morning?” Drake asked Telford. “It wouldn’t hurt you to take a Saturday off once a year.” He took his plate to the stove for more eggs and bacon.

“Can’t. That school’s going to be perfect if I have to lay every stone with my own hands. The Harrington name will stand for the last word in building again, for the very best. People will take notice, if I die trying.”

She didn’t like the harshness of his voice or the rage that she sensed just below his veneer of gentility.

“I’ll drag old man Sparkman and his gang down to their knees, if it’s the last thing I do,” he spat out. “That school building is going to be a symbol of quality, and I’ll bring it in on time and on budget.”

Alexis looked at Telford’s clenched fists and the muscles working in his jaw. Her gaze moved to his eyes and the fierce emotion that robbed them of the warmth that had cast a spell over her the night before. Oh, those eyes held fire, all right, but a different kind of fire, the fire of animosity and a hunger for revenge.

She didn’t know the reason for his hostility, but she knew that it made him hard and vengeful; no person could be happy feeling as he did.

The fingers of her right hand closed over his left wrist. “If you dislike this man so much, he will occupy your thoughts when your mind should be free for other concerns. Whenever you hate anyone, you’re the loser.” His glare didn’t shake her resolve. “What I said is true,” she continued. “Do what you have to do, but don’t think about the man; these feelings you have…they’re…they’re destructive.”

“Look here. You don’t know anything about this, nor what this man has cost my family. You’d do well not to talk out of turn.”

She couldn’t let it go at that. This man hurt, and he would go on hurting until he got the better of his enemy, but she knew that when he did, he’d have a hollow victory.

“I don’t mean to offend you, but you’ll never be at peace this way.”

He pushed his chair back from the table and put his hands on his knees in a move to leave. “I don’t care for namby-pamby. That’s not… Wait a minute, you’re not a pacifist or a…” His eyes widened. “A—”

She finished it for him. “A Quaker, a member of the Society of Friends. I am not namby-pamby, as you put it, and I stand up for my rights. But I do not argue or hold grudges, and I don’t let anger get in the way of my common sense. Yours is ruling you.”

He leaned back in the chair. “Who the… Who’d have thought it? Did you come from a family of Quakers?”

She shook her head. “I was raised a Methodist.”

“Why the change? Is your ex-husband a Quaker?”

That was good for a laugh. “I don’t know what he is. I joined the Friends because I needed to be with people whose lives were different from the volatile and sometimes violent relationships I witnessed in my parents, and whose values were unlike those of my manipulative and greedy husband.”

She supposed she’d shocked him until she saw on his face something akin to recognition. He seemed uncomfortable, as though she’d given him information that he’d rather not have.

“Sorry if I’ve embarrassed you.”

He held up his hand. “No. No. It’s all right. I…I was thinking what a difficult life you must have had. Yet you take me to task for being angry. Neither of us has had a happy time of it.” He stood. “I hope you’ll be happier here. Henry will show you that room by the garden. See you this evening.”

“Around seven?” she asked to emphasize their agreement to eat dinner at a fixed time.

“All right. Seven.”

“Mr. Telford, I wanna go with you.”

She’d almost forgotten that Tara sat quietly at the table listening to their conversation.

“Tell you what,” he said to Tara, who’d left the table and was holding his hand. “You and I will take a little walk another day, but not today. Okay?”

“Don’t forget, Mr. Telford. We’re going to walk.”

She hoped he wouldn’t disappoint her child. Jack never remembered his promises to his daughter, and she didn’t want her to grow up thinking that men were unreliable.

“Did he leave?” Drake asked, pulled out the chair Telford vacated and sat down.

She nodded. “He’ll be back by seven.”

An amused twinkle danced in Drake’s dark eyes. “Oh, yeah. You said we had to be home by seven and eat together. I was surprised he didn’t tell you who was boss.”

“You make me sound like a bore.”

“Trust me, I didn’t mean to. Think the two of you will get on all right? Telford’s been through plenty, and when he puts himself to it, he can be a real handful.”

“He’s sensitive, and Tara likes him.”

“Tara likes any guy wearing pants, which is why I’m not jealous of her affection for Henry. He doesn’t even want people to like him.” He buttered a biscuit and spread raspberry jam on it. “Three or four hours after she meets him, she’s trailing behind him, and he’s going halfway to Frederick to get bacon for her. He wouldn’t do that for me or my brothers.”

“Why not?”

The expression on his face suggested that there might be some doubt as to her sanity. “What we want doesn’t matter a hoot to Henry. He does as he pleases.” He reached over and patted Tara’s shoulder. “I gotta get out of here. See you later.”

She noticed that, although Tara told him good-bye, smiled and waved at him, she didn’t hold on to him or ask to go with him. She wondered if Tara had sensed her own reaction to Telford and been favorably impressed because of it. She cleared the table and took the dishes over to the kitchen sink.

“Ain’t no reason for you to do that. You hear?” Henry wiped his hands on his apron. “I’ll take care of the kitchen. You go get your things ready so I can take you to your new room. You’ll like it.” He looked down at Tara. “You will, too.”

She loved the enormous room with its sand-colored walls, cinnamon-colored carpeting and soft yellow accessories. A wall of windows let her look at the garden, a grove of trees and what appeared to be a river in the distance. She stood by the window and took in the beauty.

Henry took pride in showing her her new quarters. “Swimming pool’s at the other end of the garden. When it’s hot in midsummer, we just turn on the floodlights and swim at night.” He walked to the far end of the room and opened a door. “This is supposed to be a sitting room, but we can put a bed and some furniture in here for Tara. Bath and Jacuzzi right there.” He pointed to another door. “That opens to the garden. Don’t worry, it’s safe. The fence is twelve feet high and has barbed wire on top.”

She thanked him. “I’ll plan some menus, make a shopping list, and I can write out some recipes for you, if you want me to.”

He scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know. If it don’t broil, and you can’t French-fry it, I ain’t got no use for it.”

She allowed herself the familiarity of a pat on his shoulder. “You’ll be surprised how easy this will be.”

Henry hadn’t been young for a long, long time, she realized when his face sagged and a shadow flashed in his eyes. “I guess I could use a few tips. Ain’t easy figuring out new ways to cook the same old thing.”

“You don’t have to worry about that in the future, or at least not for as long as I’m here. We’ll help each other, Henry. I don’t know a fifth of what you know.” She wanted him for a friend, and she meant to be one.

Telford had been away for several days on a business trip, and Alexis didn’t know he’d come home until Tara ran down the hall calling his name. “Mr. Telford. Mr. Telford. Mummy, can Mr. Telford come look at what I drew?”

Telford wasn’t pleased that she brought a child to his home, and she didn’t want Tara’s fondness for him to become tiresome.

“Darling, Mr. Telford just came home, and he’s probably very tired. You must wait till he’s had time to…to rest.”

“I have to put on some work clothes, Tara. Think you can wait a little while?”

Alexis couldn’t believe the smile that lit up Tara’s face. Her daughter was as impatient as a four-year-old could be, but she graciously accepted whatever Telford offered her.

“You must have magic powers, Telford. I can hardly believe that’s my daughter.”

“Why’s that?”

“Her patience, this new trait she adopted after she came here, boggles my mind.”

His wink nearly knocked her off balance. “Some females know a man when they see one.”

And I don’t? This woman was far ahead of Tara. “I’m not going there, Telford. Not for a second.”

With his hands in the back pockets of his trousers and his feet planted wide apart, his lips slowly exposed his perfect white teeth in a grin. Devastating. But if he knew it, unlike Drake, he didn’t show it. Thank goodness she was able to resist grabbing her chest to slow down her heartbeat. If she wasn’t careful or very lucky, she’d be the one to break the contract. A little of this man could set a dozen women on fire.

“Suit yourself,” he said, winking again. “I’ve got to check the warehouse. If you’re not busy, you and Tara can come along, see one of our operations and meet some of the men working on that building.”

“They work on Saturday?”

“It’s their choice, and they’re well paid for it. Better put on some jeans.”

“How about chinos? I don’t own any jeans.”

“Whatever. Be back here in fifteen minutes.”

“I get the impression you’re involved in building. What do you do?”

“I’m a builder. We put up buildings. All kinds. Russ, Drake and I work together as Harrington, Incorporated.”

“Impressive. I’d like to see some of your buildings sometime.” Realizing that a housekeeper wouldn’t have said that, she lowered her gaze, flustered.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

This man was sensitive, and she’d better not call attention to herself. If he became curious about her, she might soon be looking for work. Furthermore, causing him to focus on her could precipitate an eruption she didn’t want. She knew enough psychology to appreciate that an attraction as strong as his for her was not one-sided. Besides, that wasn’t ice she saw in his eyes as he faced her on the steps the day she arrived, nor was it disinterest she was looking at right then.

“Uh…nothing. I forgot I have work to do.”

His facial expression dissolved into the picture of puzzlement. “It’s after four, so you’re off for the weekend. At least I thought that was our agreement. Meet you down here in a few minutes.”

“All right. But, Telford, you don’t have to take Tara for a walk. She’s…only a little girl, and she has to understand that you’re not here to cater to her.”

“I told her we’d go for a walk, and nobody forced me to say that. My word is my bond, and I keep my promises. If I tell you I’ll do something, count on it. And I expect the same from anyone else. See you in a minute.” He whirled around and dashed up the stairs.

Telford swore at himself as he headed for his room. He had to watch his behavior with Alexis Stevenson. She possessed grace, charm and intelligence—traits that he admired—not to mention sizzling femininity. He’d observed her at breakfast a few mornings earlier, when she thought his mind was on biscuits, sausage and grits. Her finesse went far beyond what he’d expect of a housekeeper. Tactful, too. He threw off his outer clothing, kicked off his shoes, put on jeans, a long-sleeved collared T-shirt, alligator boots and a denim jacket and raced down the stairs. To his surprise, Alexis and Tara waited for him at the bottom of the steps.

“I thought I moved fast. You two must have raced back here.”

“I ran. Mummy walked. Where’re we going?”

She gazed up at him with soft brown eyes, smiling eyes, and reached for his hand. He supposed she touched him the way she did because she expected him to like her or…maybe because he’d once dreamed he’d have a family of his own—sons like him and soft, feminine daughters. He shook himself out of the memory, the residual of his youthful desires.

“I’m going to show you around the place,” he told them. “We’re building a warehouse down the road there because it will give us greater security. Want to see it?”

Her little fingers relaxed, warm and trusting in his big hand.

“I do, and I wanna see the puppies, too.”

He glanced at Alexis, hoping that she knew something about them. “Puppies? I didn’t know we had any.”

She lifted her left shoulder in a slight shrug. “Neither did I.”

Wondering if he was dealing with the fruits of a child’s imagination, he hunkered beside Tara and asked her, “Did Henry say we have puppies?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh. And they’re brown.”

He stood, and she grasped his hand again. “In that case, I’ll see if I can find them. When I was little like you, Tara, I played under this tree while my dad worked nearby.” Now why had he shared that with them? He pointed to a sycamore tree that towered over the stable. “That one.” When he looked in that direction, he glimpsed Alexis’s upturned face and her soft kissable lips, and his heart leapfrogged in his chest.

At the warehouse, he introduced Alexis and Tara to the workers. “Mrs. Stevenson, this is Biff Jackson, my project foreman. Biff, Mrs. Stevenson is our new homemaker.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted introducing Alexis to Biff, who assumed the stance of a man looking at a woman he desired but for whom he had low regard.

“And this is Tara, Mrs. Stevenson’s daughter. If she strays out here, send her back immediately with a man you trust.”

“Sure thing,” Biff said, his gaze fixed on Alexis. “Howdy, Ms. Stevenson.” He extended his hand. “Things are looking up around here.”

Telford didn’t imagine that she hesitated before shaking Biff’s hand, and it was clear to him that the man continued to hold her grip when she’d indicated she wanted him to release her. Her gaze swept to him, furor flashing in her eyes.

“Knock it off, Biff. If you want to play, find someone who’s willing.”

Biff’s shrug was lazy and insolent. “They’re all willing, boss. Some just need a little help.” He saluted in mocking fashion. “Glad to meet you. Be seeing you around.” She didn’t respond.

Telford narrowed his eyes. “Just make certain you know when that help is wanted.”

He knew Biff regarded himself highly; he’d heard enough of the man’s braggadocios of his way with women. Alexis had just dusted him off, and with Biff’s outsized ego, he was probably already thinking of a way to make her pay. Wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on Biff.

“Seen any puppies around here, Biff?”

“Puppies? Naaah. Say, wait. I think Henry has some at his place. Some golden retrievers.”

He thanked his foreman and guided Alexis and Tara around the structure, pointing out its features and explaining things to Tara, an intelligent child who possessed a healthy curiosity. The warehouse was a relatively simple structure, and he had built suspension bridges, municipal buildings, schools and mansions, yet his pride in showing Alexis and Tara that uncomplicated job—what he did and who he was—eclipsed his regard for his previous accomplishments. As they headed for Henry’s cottage, the significance of his feelings worried him.

Henry stopped mowing the grass as they approached. “I guess you come for your little puppy.”

Tara looked at her mother, who pinned soft, warm brown eyes on him.

“All right, all right, but we’ll have to establish some house rules, and it has to be a male.”

Tara squealed and hugged his leg, and Henry disappeared into the house. Telford liked animals, but he didn’t keep pets. As a child, he feared losing things he loved, so he hadn’t let himself love. His mother, Etta Harrington, used to disappear whenever it suited her, or it seemed that way to a small boy, and when he was in the third grade, his best friend died of the flu. There’d been times when he’d tried not to love his brothers for fear of losing them.

Henry returned with a puppy in a towel-lined basket, his face bright with smiles as he handed it to Tara, and it dawned on him that the little girl gave the old man unqualified love and affection, a new life.

Tara looked up at them as she cradled her treasure, her face the image of pure joy. “Thanks, Mr. Henry. I’m going to name him Biscuit, ’cause Mr. Telford loves biscuits. I like ’em, too.”

What a sensitive child. If she’d learned that from her mother… He shoved the thought aside. He rarely walked around the Harrington property or took the time to enjoy its beauty, and he realized that he found pleasure in it now because he shared it with Alexis and Tara. If he was smart, he’d shake off that domesticity right then.

The little girl held her basket with one hand and grasped his fingers with her other one. “Where we going now, Mr. Telford?”

“We’re going home. You need to take care of your puppy, and I’ve…uh got to do some work.”

He wanted to ask Alexis if she was always so serene or if… No, that wasn’t it. Maybe he just didn’t understand her facial expressions. And maybe you’d better not try, a niggling voice warned him.

“Thanks for showing us around,” she said, as he prepared to leave them at the bottom of the stairs. “And for letting Tara have the puppy. You’ve made her so happy.”

“My pleasure.” Remembering his father’s words, “Always get it straight in advance,” he sat on the steps and pulled Tara into the curve of his arm.

“Puppies need rules. He cannot run through the house. For now, he sleeps in your room, but when he’s older, on the back porch. You bathe him at least once a week. Henry will tell you about feeding him. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” To his amazement, her little arms snaked around his neck and she pressed kisses to his cheek. “I have to go take care of Biscuit,” she said, cradling the basket. “Bye.”

Tara ran off, but Alexis remained there. He looked at her, and this time he could read her, because he’d caught her off guard with her feelings naked in her eyes. He didn’t think he saw gratitude there, but with lightning speed, she pulled a curtain over her emotions, leaving him unsure. In that second, she set off something inside him that he couldn’t shove aside, and unless he put on the brakes right then…

He jumped up. “See you at supper.”

She called it dinner, thanks to her Yankee roots, and the Southerner in him thought of it as supper. He half smiled. Another of their inconsequential differences.

“Thanks again, Telford.”

Her voice, soft and sweet, soothed him, gave him a strange peace, and he had to admit that she represented what he needed and didn’t have: a warm and loving woman in whom he could lose himself and his cares.

Suddenly, he spun around. “What am I thinking? I won’t be home for supper tonight. Tell Henry, if you don’t mind.”

He’d been single for thirty-six years and content with his status. Alone, he’d sent himself and his brothers through school, held his family together after losing his parents, and he’d done it on his own, gone through the tough times by himself. These days, life was a piece of cake by comparison. He wasn’t about to complicate his life. But what a temptation Alexis Stevenson was! When she fixed her wide, soft brown eyes on him and subjected him to the peaceful air she wore like a cloak, she weakened his defenses. Inviting. Captivating. Her smooth black skin, patrician nose, luscious lips and full breasts did all kinds of things to his libido. He exhaled a harsh breath. Every perfect curve of her body said woman. Jack Stevenson had to be either a fool or a modern tragedy.

When he opened his room door, he thought of Tara expecting him at supper. Now what? He waited twenty minutes and dialed Alexis’s phone number.

“Mind if I speak with Tara?”

“Not at all. Just a second.”

No preliminaries. He liked that. “Hello, Tara. This is Telford. Have you fed your puppy?”

“Yes, and he’s already asleep.”

“Good. I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast.” He hadn’t lied, and she wouldn’t expect him, so she wouldn’t be disappointed. He breathed a deep sigh of relief. An hour later, he was in his Buick Le Sabre headed for Frederick.

Alexis finished pulling the red caftan over her head, tied the thongs of her sandals around her ankles, walked over to her daughter and put the phone back into its cradle. “What did he say?”

“He told me to feed Biscuit.”

“That’s all?”

“No. He said he’d see me in the morning. Can I have my keyboard now?”

She gave Tara the keyboard, opened the door and walked out into the garden. He’d decided not to have dinner with them and, remembering that Tara would miss him, he’d prepared her. A kind, thoughtful man, but he walked alone, and after what she’d suffered the past four and a half years, she preferred to do the same. Whether she’d made a mistake in signing the contract with Telford would depend on how they deported themselves. Worrying about her reaction to him was a waste of time, and she intended to focus on her sculpting.

“Mummy. Telephone.”

“Hello,” she said, winded after running halfway across the garden. “Velma! I’d begun to wonder if you’d gotten my message.”

“I did, but I’ve been flying around like crazy. What’s he like?”

She prepared herself for the third degree. “What’s who like?”

“Don’t try to bamboozle me, sis. Anytime your mind goes blank, I know you’re hiding something. And this time, it’s a man.”

“Velma, I’ve been here exactly six days.”

“So? You could’ve conceived sextuplets by now. What’s he like?”

She sat down, crossed her legs and prepared for a grilling by her older sister. “Telford Harrington is, so far as I have been able to determine, a gentleman. That’s the sum total of my knowledge of the man.”

“My, my. And we’re so precise. If he’s too much of a gentleman, he can be a bore. What do you think of the place?”

She told her, adding, “Nobody who lives here is suffering.”

“Does he have any brothers?”

Alexis laughed aloud, figuring she’d get some of her own. “Two of ’em. Drake, the one I met, makes Billy Dee Williams look ordinary.”

Velma’s whistle burned her ear. “Quit lying, girl. When I look at Billy Dee in those old movies, I just get plain unconscious. He’s da man. If this brother’s in Billy Dee’s class, honey, look for me, and soon.”

“Trust me. He’s a sizzler.” She could picture Velma’s mental machine at work.

“If he’s so hot, what’s wrong with him that you’re not interested?”

“No chemistry.” That much was true. “And I work for these guys.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to carry it off, hon? That’s hard work, and you’re not used to it. I could strangle Jack Stevenson.”

“As Grandma used to say, ‘let him lie.’ I have Tara—or did have. She has mutual affairs going with both Harringtons and the cook.” Alexis wiped the dampness from beneath her eyes. “Jack ignored Tara, and she is really basking in the attention these men give her. I think she’s fallen for Telford.”

“Telford, huh? So that’s his name?”

“Would you please back up, Velma? I am not interested in these men.”

“Of course you aren’t. If one of those blood brothers is a knockout, so are the others. That thing runs in families, and I’ll bet Telford’s good-looking and you’re sweet on him. Anyhow, I want to meet Drake.”

“No, you don’t. He’s younger than you are.”

“Don’t start preaching. If he’s of legal age, intelligent, otherwise mature and has everything in the right places, so what?”

Alexis couldn’t help laughing. “Drake Harrington is an architectural engineer and time enough for you and a few more women. If you meet him, you’ll have to pay me not to tell him what you just said.”

“I’m crying a river. What about the other brother?”

He was a question mark, an important one, because she didn’t know how he would react to Tara. “Haven’t seen him yet, but Drake referred to him as ‘old sourpuss.’ He’s the middle brother. When can you come visit me?”

“Soon as you can get the family together. I want my pick of those brothers.”

“I’ll bet. How’s business?”

“Great. I just signed to cater the Omega convention. And keep your fingers crossed. I’m bidding for the AKA annual.”

“I’m proud of you, sis. I wish you’d show me how to make that crisscross lemon-almond cake.”

“Get me a Harrington, and I will.”

“I’ll… I think that’s the doorbell. I’d better answer it. Talk to you later.”

She rushed down the long hallway to the front door, peeped out and saw a black Mercedes parked in front of the house. She slipped on the chain, cracked the door and peeped at the visitor.

“You can open it,” Henry called to her, and she wondered why he hadn’t done that himself.

She flung the door open and gaped at the man who continued to stand there staring at her. “I’m Russ Harrington,” he said at last and brushed past her.

Forgetting that she was the housekeeper, she left the door ajar in a kind of reprimand and walked past him.

“Just a minute, miss. Where’s Drake?”

“Drake? I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Then who’re…what’re you doing here?”

“I’m Alexis Stevenson, and I’m not visiting either one of your brothers. I’m the housekeeper.”

His lower lip dropped. “The what?”

“The housekeeper. Dinner’s at seven.” She walked off and left him wide-eyed and openmouthed.

She’d finally met a Harrington she wasn’t sure she liked, and she was almost certain that he wouldn’t like Tara.