Page 57 of Moonshine and Magnolias
“That’s me. Thoughtful and self-sacrificing.” Hal’s eyes were wide with an innocence that put up Rob’s defenses. “And just you remember it.”
“Why did you change your mind?”
Hal’s eyes flicked away before he answered. “I thought it would be a better way to go. Trying honesty for a change.”
Rob gave him a curt nod. Honesty and integrity had never been his brother’s forte. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch, Rob. Only the fact that it brought you and Wendy Marsh closer together.” Hal raked his gaze over his brother, the smirk returning. “Which I’m assuming it did.”
“None of your damn business.” Rob’s gut churned when they passed Wendy’s door. “Look, now that she knows, why are you sneaking around? We can just ask her to show us tomorrow.”
“That’s an idea.” Hal rubbed the back of his neck. “I think seeing us in action is different than hearing about it. She might not like us picking apart her family history.”
But that history is what brought them together. “One conversation and you know her that well?”
“One night and you do, too?”
But he did. Wendy’s scent was all over him and he replayed the evening. She had been right there with him, almost over the edge. Her hips moved in a perfect rhythm with his own, arching against him so he could go deeper into her. Taut nipples welcomed his mouth. Her gasps for breath got faster and faster. Right as she was about to come for the second time, she shut down. Dismissed him.
He’d get it right next time. If she let him have a next time. Wendy was a contradiction in herself. Strong but scared, unguarded but careful. In control.
Always in control.
Son of a bitch. He could have smacked his head against the wall for not connecting that dot earlier. He was such an idiot. No wonder she freaked.
“I hear footsteps. We’ll have to come back later.” Hal grabbed Rob’s arm and dragged him to the stairs. Once inside, they waited on the wooden steps, listening to the faint patter of feet.
“This is ridiculous, you know,” Rob said. He took one last glance at the closed door, then crept down the stairs to the second floor. After a moment, his brother followed.
There was too much pent-up energy flowing through Rob’s body for him to go to his room. Plus he needed to plan his next action with the woman upstairs. “I’m going to wander for a bit downstairs.”
“It’s past one.”
“That didn’t seem to bother you five minutes ago.” Rob left his brother and headed downstairs and got some bottled water out of the mini-fridge in the parlor. The cool liquid helped calm the blood still thrumming through his veins.
Portraits of the Clayton ancestors decorated the cream colored walls of thelobby, from Fountenoy Hall patriarch Fenwick Clayton to Wendy’s grandmother Maybelle. He stopped in front of Caroline Clayton of the mismatched eyes, writer of journals, aficionado of pink lipstick, possible bootlegger. Her blonde hair and charming smile reminded him of Brandi. “And what secrets did you keep out of your journals, hmmm?” he asked.
Maybe something would click in the picture with Uncle Louis in the dining room. Scant light from outside illuminated the normally boisterous area and reflected off the silver coffee server. Tomorrow would be time enough to have the lights on. For now, the silence brought peace.
He hadn’t studied the pictures since Hal had mentioned seeing Uncle Louis in them. He peered at the one of the man and young woman. Definitely Isaac Clayton and his daughter Caroline. And yes, Uncle Louis lurked in the background, fuzzy and out of focus. Based on the style of clothes, it had been taken around 1930. Perfect timing.
The other photos weren’t as helpful. Several standard pictures of a frowning patriarch surrounded by his serious family. Old slave cabins. A woman in front of a magnolia tree, several large limbs strewn on the ground. One of a younger Miss Eulalee and Maybelle with an older woman sitting in the cradle of branches of Fenwick’s oak, flanked by Wendy’s mom and a woman he didn’t recognize, each holding a baby. He examined every photograph. No more Uncle Louis, but Caroline made another appearance, sitting by the base of a tree and staring off in the distance, a book in her hand.
“Well, Uncle Louis,” he muttered. “I hope you knew more about women than I do.”
He took another sip of water, then went still as he heard a soft click. Like a door closing.
At least this time he didn’t need to run like a frightened rabbit, since unlike the office, the dining room was open to the guests at any time. He stepped to the pass-through window and peeked into the kitchen. Streaks of moonlight shone in through the slats in the blinds and showed the backdoor was firmly locked. Maybeit was an echo from the servants staircase. He was about to turn around when Brandi came out of the butler’s pantry.
She froze when she saw him in the dining room, her different-colored eyes wide in the pale shadow of her face.
“Brandi?”
“What are you doing here?” She waved her hands. “Don’t tell Wendy I asked that. Fountenoy Hall is all about customer service.” She came through the door. Her green polo shirt with the peach logo wasn’t the standard uniform. Her blonde hair was tied in a messy bun atop her head, and the strong scent of bread wafted over to him. “Dr. Rob. May I be of any assistance?”
“I was just getting some water.” Rob held up the bottle and hoped he looked presentable. “Were you in the butler’s pantry this whole time?”
“I was getting a serving tray.”
