Season of secrets, p.19
Season of Secrets, page 19
“Yes.” She could see it so clearly now, in everything Annabel had said and done that long, hot summer. “I imagine he panicked. He struck out at her and realized too late what he’d done.”
Marc’s fingers clenched, then relaxed. “He thought he was in the clear when you didn’t speak and Carr went away, but he worried about the letters.”
“Letters?”
He nodded. “Apparently he wrote love letters to Annabel. How like Phillips that was, wasn’t it? Indulging in some romantic dream, as if he and Annabel were Lancelot and Guinevere.”
They hadn’t been. They’d just been a willful, spoiled young woman and a weak man. She felt an eternity older than Annabel had been.
“So that’s what he was looking for in the secretary. His letters.”
“Apparently he never thought he could risk searching for them when the house was rented. But when I came back and Carr reappeared, he got desperate.”
“He killed Carr.” Her voice choked a little. “I’m the one who told him Carr was back in town. He was there when I asked James if he remembered Carr. If I hadn’t mentioned it, Carr might still be alive.”
Marc shook his head, frowning. “Don’t think that. Carr had blackmailed him once and was apparently trying it again. It wasn’t your fault.”
“I still can’t believe he killed Carr in cold blood.” An impulsive crime of passion, maybe, but not this ugly premeditation.
“He provided the drugs and alcohol. Carr did the rest himself.” His voice was dry. “He never intended that I should be blamed. That was pure accident, apparently.”
A tiny spurt of fresh anger went through her. “He should have realized they’d suspect you.” Her sympathy for Phillips was evaporating. He hadn’t thought of anyone but himself from first to last, and too many people had paid for that.
Marc’s fingers tightened on hers, as if he guessed her thoughts. “Anyway, he was still afraid I’d stumble across the letters in getting the house ready for sale. That was what he was doing. He thought the house was empty, and he was looking for his letters.”
“Were there any letters?”
“No.” His shoulders moved slightly. “She probably destroyed them ten years ago.”
“The guilty flee where no man pursues,” she murmured.
“Exactly.” Fresh pain crossed his face. “I’d like to keep their affair from Court, but I don’t suppose I’ll be able to.”
“Court is a very strong young man. He’ll be fine.”
“Yes.” He glanced at the mantel clock and then got to his feet. “It’s late. I’d better go home and let you get to bed.”
“You’re not going back there to sleep. We have a room ready for you here.”
Don’t go, Marc. Stay with me.
He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I’ll come back for breakfast, if Aunt Kate wants me.”
“Of course.” She fixed a smile on her face. That was it, then. They were to go back to being cousins, apparently.
Ironic. She finally felt free of the past and ready to move on, but all Marc wanted to do was walk away.
She went with him to the door. They might never be alone together again. “Good night, Marc.”
The mantel clock chimed the hour. Marc looked into her face.
“It’s midnight. It’s officially Christmas Eve, Dinah. Merry Christmas.” He bent and kissed her quickly, lightly, and then walked away, taking her heart with him.
“It’s beautiful, Court.” Dinah folded the tissue paper over the lacy sweater and leaned across to kiss Court’s cheek. He grinned and reddened but didn’t dodge away.
“I couldn’t ask for a lovelier Christmas morning than this.” Aunt Kate beamed at all of them impartially, as if Marc and Court had been part of their Christmases forever. They were celebrating in Marc’s family room, since Court insisted on unwrapping presents beneath the tree.
And, as Aunt Kate said, they may as well get over whatever uncomfortable feelings they had about the house. Celebrating Christmas there would go a long way toward doing that.
They’d gone to the early worship service together. She’d stood next to Marc, singing the joyful Christmas songs, and forced herself to keep smiling, in spite of the pain.
When the legalities were finished, Marc and Court would go back to Boston. They’d come back for visits, of course, but it wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t really be part of one another’s lives.
And to Marc she’d go on being what she’d always been—Annabel’s little cousin.
“This one’s from both Dad and me.” Court thrust a long envelope, adorned with a slightly lopsided red bow, into her lap. “Open it next, okay?”
She nodded, slipping her finger under the flap. She looked up at them questioning. “A plane ticket?”
“Not just a ticket.” Court beamed. “It’s a ticket to Boston that you can use anytime. You have to come and visit us.”
She managed not to let the smile slip. “That is so nice. I’ve always wanted to see Boston in the springtime. You can show me all the sights.” She stood quickly. “Now I’m going to bring in some coffee and hot chocolate. Opening gifts is thirsty work.”
Nobody would know how hard it was to keep smiling as she hurried out of the room. She’d reached the kitchen before she heard him behind her.
“I can manage this.” She clinked cups onto a tray. “You don’t have to help me.”
“I didn’t come to help.” Marc took her hands in his, turning her to face him. “I came to talk.”
She couldn’t look at him, for fear he’d see the hopeless love in her eyes. “I should take this tray in. They’ll want to finish opening gifts.”
“They’ll wait. We’ve spent the past thirty-six hours surrounded by either family or police. I thought I’d never get you alone again, and I’m not giving that up too easily.”
Her heart was thudding so loudly she could barely speak over it. She focused on the top button of his shirt. “We were alone the other night.”
“We were both still shaking the other night. I couldn’t tell you what I need to say until you’d had a chance to recover a little. Dinah, will you please look at me?”
She lifted her gaze to his, and the warmth in his eyes set an answering warmth flooding through her. “I don’t need recovery time. I’ve spent my life recovering. Now I want to spend it living.”
Aunt Kate would be shocked if she heard her. A lady should always wait to be asked.
“That’s what I want, too.” He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. “You must know that I love you. And not as a cousin. As a woman.” He took a breath, his face rueful. “If you don’t feel the same, I’m risking losing you altogether. But I figure it’s worth it. We’ve both already wasted too much time.”
The joy that bubbled through her felt as if it would lift her right off the floor. “You’re sure you don’t still think of me as Annabel’s little cousin?”
He pulled her into his arms, and the way he held her wiped any doubt from her mind. “I love you, Dinah Westlake. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know it’s not going to be easy. But things that are worthwhile never are.”
They had Aunt Kate to consider, and Court. More than two lives to blend together, gossip to overcome, decisions to be made.
But she was seeing clearly now, not darkly. God had brought them both through the darkness and into the light.
“We can do it. If we’ve gotten through all this, we can do anything. Together.” She lifted her face for his kiss, ready to step into the future.
Dear Reader,
I’m so glad you decided to pick up this story, the third of my Lowcountry romantic suspense novels. It’s been such a pleasure to write these books that I hate to see them come to an end. I loved writing about Dinah and Marcus, and I’ve begun to feel as if the next time I’m in Charleston, I’ll probably see them!
It’s always a joy to go back to the Lowcountry of the Georgia and South Carolina coast, the setting for my earlier Caldwell Clan series. It’s a beautiful area, filled with mystery and romance as well as with friendly people who love to make you feel at home.
This story is set in Charleston, South Carolina, and I hope you’ll enjoy this armchair visit. I fell in love with Charleston when one of my daughters was in graduate school there, and now that she and her family live there, we have a chance to visit more often.
I hope you’ll write and let me know how you liked this story. Address your letter to me at Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, Suite 1001, New York, NY 10279, and I’ll be happy to send you a signed bookplate or bookmark. You can visit me on the Web at www.martaperry.com or e-mail me at marta@martaperry.com.
Blessings,
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
Grief over the loss of a loved one can take many forms. Aunt Kate doesn’t talk about Annabel, while Dinah has nightmares. How else might they have dealt with their grief?
Court’s attempts to protect her both amuse and touch Dinah. Have you seen a young teen act in an unusually mature way in an emergency? What do you think gives a young person that ability?
Dinah prays that God will keep her from remembering Annabel’s death. Her prayer isn’t answered in the way she wants, but God gives her the strength to cope with the results. Has God denied a prayer of yours? Have you later seen God’s wisdom in that?
In the scriptural theme, Paul tells us that now we see in a glass dimly, but one day we’ll see face-to-face. What do you think he means? Have you ever felt you were seeing dimly when you tried to understand God’s working in your life?
How is the scriptural theme shown in the story? Through which characters and situations?
When Marc comes home to Charleston, he realizes how much he’s missed it, even while seeing things differently. Have you experienced going back to a place you loved after a long absence? How did it make you feel?
Some of Charleston’s unique Christmas traditions are mentioned in the story. If a stranger came to your town, what interesting Christmas traditions would she find?
Christmas food means cheese bennes and pecan tassies in Charleston. What are some of your traditional Christmas recipes? Do they have special meaning to you because of the person who gave them to you or because you remember them from childhood?
Marc blames himself for the problems he and Annabel had. Is this common in your experience? How does one get past this?
In the end, Marc and Dinah both have to accept the betrayal of a friend and plan for a life together that will be complex because of their responsibilities. How do you think they can work that out?
ISBN: 978-1-4268-4571-0
SEASON OF SECRETS
Copyright © 2006 by Martha P. Johnson
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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*Hometown Heroes
**The Flanagans
**The Flanagans
*Hometown Heroes
*Hometown Heroes
†Caldwell Kin
†Caldwell Kin
†Caldwell Kin
†Caldwell Kin
**The Flanagans
**The Flanagans
Marta Perry, Season of Secrets
