Page 24 of The Last Night in London
I looked away so she couldn’t see my guilty expression. “When I suggested asking his mother for help finding Eva, Colin said it was a good idea but probably would have to wait until the weekend because of work. I didn’t want to wait, so I called you.”
Which was all completely true. I didn’t bother mentioning that I didn’t want to spend any more time with Colin than I had to. There was something unresolved between us, an obscuring fog that keptthreatening to clear. I needed it there, because there had always been something about Colin Eliot that strained to shift my resolve regarding relationships.
“So I’m the bad guy. Very clever of you, Maddie. If not Machiavellian.”
“I’m trying to do my job and make an old lady very happy by finding her long-lost friend. How is that Machiavellian?”
Arabella grimaced. “You and I both know this has more to do with you and those feelings you won’t talk about. Just know that Colin won’t like it when he finds out you’ve gone behind his back.”
“Me?” I asked innocently. “You were the one who called his mother.”
She glared at me before returning her focus to the road.
Eager to change the topic, I said, “I’ve never been to his parents’ country house. Is it old?”
“A bit. Originally, there was a medieval manor on the property, but a St. John ancestor built the current house sometime in the fifteen hundreds. It’s been in the family ever since.”
“Wow. And I thought my grandfather’s house was old. But that was built in the middle of the eighteen hundreds.”
“Still quite old by American standards,” Arabella said graciously. “But I bet Hovenden Park has had more distinguished guests.”
“Hovenden Park? Colin’s house has a name?”
“Oh, yes. And a dairy farm. Actually, the house is called Hovenden Hall, but the entire estate is Hovenden Park. We can go pet some of the cows if we have time. You’ve heard of Hovenden Ice Cream, right?”
She pulled off the motorway, giving me a few moments to think. “How have I never heard any of this before?”
“You never asked, did you? And you’re not very forthright about yourself, either. If it weren’t for your accent and my amazing powers of deduction, we wouldn’t even know you were from America. As for Colin, well, he has his reasons, too. It’s a good thing you both have me, or you’d never meet anyone.”
I was silent as she maneuvered the car down a narrow lane withthick hedgerows that threatened to remove her side mirrors. “You mentioned distinguished guests?”
“Well, Queen Elizabeth the First came once, and her successor, King James the First, visited twice, I believe.”
“You win,” I said. “General Sherman and his troops stomped past my grandfather’s house during his march to the sea during the Civil War, but he didn’t stay there. Not that I know of, anyway. And he didn’t torch the house, which was nice. Legend has it that my great-whatever-grandmother met him with a broom on the front porch, and he was so charmed by her gumption and beauty that he ordered no harm to come to the house or the people inside.”
“Well, that’s something, then, isn’t it?” Arabella smiled brightly.
“Yes, I suppose so,” I said, the thought of home tugging at my heart just as my phone began buzzing again.
“Aren’t you going to get that?” Arabella asked.
I silenced the call and slid the phone into my purse. “Not right now. I’ll call her back later.”
“Her?”
“My aunt Cassie.”
“Your aunt Cassie? So you have an aunt.”
“My mother’s sister. I’m sure I’ve mentioned her. She lives in my grandfather’s house now.” I leaned forward, looking out the windshield. “How much farther? I’m starving.”
“No, actually, I don’t believe you’ve mentioned her. It must be urgent if she keeps calling. We’re almost there, but I can slow down so you have time to call her back.”
I sighed. “It’s not urgent. She just wants to know if I’m coming home for Christmas. My sister is getting married.”
“Sounds like a simple answer to me,” Arabella said, stopping the car in front of a gate with a cattle grate beneath it.
“I’ll get it,” I said, eager to end the conversation. Arabella was too good at dissecting the inner psyche. And I’d had enough professional therapy to know that what was wrong with me couldn’t be fixed. I stepped out of the car, smelling the familiar scent of sun-soaked grass and another smell I recognized as cow related. Not entirelyunpleasant but definitely earthier than I was used to. I unlatched the gate and returned to the car, avoiding Arabella’s eyes, sure she was still waiting for me to explain why I didn’t want to go home.
