Page 17 of Halstead House

“She can be very persuasive,” I replied.

“Does that mean you’ll join us?” Marshall asked. I took a deep breath and then nodded. “That’s just fine then.” Marshall turned to John Lucas. “Would you like to come too?”

“I’m sorry. I have a commitment this afternoon,” he replied. It sounded like a canned, habitual response, and I didn’t get the feeling he was actually sorry.

“Well, shoot. Maybe some other time?” Marshall offered.

“Sure.” His gaze skittered away toward the house.

“Okay. I’m heading back to the house to clean up these fish and get some supplies. I won’t be too long,” Marshall said to me and Ana.

Both Marshall and John Lucas touched the brims of their hats in a gentlemanly salute as they turned to walk away. The gesture was a nice surprise. I allowed my eyes to follow the men as they climbed the stairs and disappeared through the gate.

Ana’s voice pulled me back. “Talk about luck. A fish fry on your first day off. The stars are smiling at you today,” she said as she sank back down to her napping position.

I also relaxed back into my chair with the smallest of smiles on my face. I’d never jinx it by saying anything out loud, but it wasn’t just the stars smiling down on me... it was the entire universe.

CHAPTER 6

I floated on the feelings of that beach experience for two full days. Sitting around an open fire with Ana and Marshall was the happiest I had felt in a long time. Marshall had teased and flirted harmlessly while the popping and sizzling sounds of fish cooking filled me before I’d even taken a bite. Stories had been told—most of which I was certain were made up—and there had been so much laughter that my face still felt a little sore. My poor face muscles weren’t used to that much work.

I replayed the fire-lit scenes in my mind a million times over, wanting to make sure no detail would fade from memory when I had to rerurn to Providence.

The crash of a chair hitting the floor snapped me out of my reverie.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Marshall said with an apologetic look toward Eliza.

“Did it scuff the floor?” she asked, walking briskly toward him.

The rest of their conversation was lost as I chastised myself for my daydreaming. The charity luncheon was today, and I had no time to be in another world. I hustled from the room to gather more tablecloths from the housekeeping room, where the crisp blue linens were being ironed.

Eliza guided the entire thing like a conductor with her orchestra. Marshall had set up the tables the night before and was now bringing in chairs. There would be ten tables with eight seats around each. Eighty guests was a pretty respectable showing, I thought, for an island this size. When I’d voiced that opinion, I’d been reminded that people were always amiable to traveling from bigger cities to spend an afternoon on the island.

Ana and the day staff had made the room sparkle the day before, and if the sounds and smells from the kitchen were any indication, the guests would be dining well. Chef Lou had insisted that the live-in staff stay out while he and his hired catering team prepared. We’d been dining on a back patio, and it hadn’t felt like punishment to me at all.

“What was that crash?” Ana asked as I entered the housekeeping room off the kitchen. It was part laundry facility, part cleaning closet, and Ana’s personal office.

“Marshall dropped a chair.” I reached out for the ironed tablecloths on a table nearby.

“I swear if that man messes up that room...” she grumbled as she turned back to the basket of linens and grabbed another.

“I think it’s okay.” I offered her a small smile.

“If you see Josie out there, will you tell her these tablecloths aren’t going to iron themselves? Or, rather, I’m not going to keep doing her job. I have other things to check on.” She sounded more annoyed than I’d heard before, so I quickly agreed and hustled back out to the ballroom.

The house seemed larger than ever as I made the return trip. Funny how when I was wandering around leisurely it felt cozy, but when I was dashing to and fro it felt cavernous. Context was everything.

I was briefly sidelined when I saw Josie dusting the parlor. I quickly sent her on her way before hustling back to the front of the house. Thankfully things seemed to be back in hand as I put more tablecloths in place. Eliza grabbed one from the stack and pitched in. No one was talking, but soft jazz music played over cleverly concealed speakers in the ceiling. There was a sense of calm urgency as we worked together, everyone knowing their part.

When all the tablecloths were arranged Eliza got us started on centerpieces. I loved the elegant simplicity of her design. Short, round, clear glass vases were to be filled with some water and then blue and green hydrangeas and cream roses. Around the vases would be small tealights. The china was done in matching cream with simple silver adornments around the edges.

I quickly worked to transport empty vases to each table, followed by the tealights. Next I filled pitchers of water from a sink in the conservatory and began to fill them one-third full as instructed. When they were filled, Eliza brought in the fresh flowers and arranged them while Marshall wheeled in the stacks of clean china from the kitchen.

“Thank you, Marshall,” Eliza said as the last load was brought in and set carefully along one side of the room. “We should be ready for take down by four p.m.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Marshall nodded, shot a smile to me, and left the room.

Eliza and I worked in silence other than her occasional humming along to the music. She artfully arranged flowers as I set up the china and silverware. It was a familiar routine, working with others to set up an event. The difference today was that the silence was companionable, rather than heavy. I wasn’t grasping for things to talk about or stumbling over my words. Instead my mind wandered peacefully.

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