Born in Ice
Page 80
“Hah! Never does she miss an Errol Flynn movie when it comes on the telly.” Point scored, Lottie waltzed into the kitchen and went directly to the stove. “Now, I’ll fix the tea, Brianna. That way you can go fetch our presents.”
“I’ve some berry tarts to go with it.” Brianna shot Gray a look as she headed for her bedroom. “Baked fresh this morning.”
“Ah, that’s lovely. Do you know, Grayson, my oldest son, that’s Peter, he went to America. To Boston he went, to visit cousins we have there. He visited the harbor where you Yanks dumped the British tea off the boat. Gone back twice again, he has, and taken his children. His own son, Shawn, is going to move there and take a job.”
She chatted on about Boston and her family while Maeve sat in sullen silence. A few moments later Brianna came back in, carrying two small boxes.
“There’s so many shops there,” she commented, determined to be cheerful. “Everywhere you look something else is for sale. It was hard to decide what to bring you.”
“Whatever it is, it’ll be lovely.” Eager to see, Lottie set down a plate of tarts and reached for her box. “Oh, would you look at this?” She lifted the small, decorative bottle to the light where it gleamed rich blue.
“ ’Tis for scent, if you like, or just for setting out.”
“It’s lovely as it can be,” Lottie declared. “Look how it’s got flowers carved right into it. Lilies. How sweet of you, Brianna. Oh, and Maeve, yours is red as a ruby. With poppies. Won’t these look fine, setting on the dresser?”
“They’re pretty enough.” Maeve couldn’t quite resist running her finger over the etching. If she had a weakness, it was for pretty things. She felt she’d never gotten her fair share of them. “It was kind of you to give me a passing thought while you were off staying in a grand hotel and consorting with movie stars.”
“Tom Cruise,” Lottie said, easily ignoring the sarcasm. “Is he as handsome a lad as he looks in the films?”
“Every bit, and charming as well. He and his wife may come here.”
“Here?” Amazed at the thought, Lottie pressed a hand to her breast. “Right here to Blackthorn Cottage?”
Brianna smiled at Lottie. “So he said.”
“That’ll be the day,” Maeve muttered. “What would so rich and high-flying a man want with staying at this place?”
“Peace,” Brianna said coolly. “And a few good meals. What everyone else wants when they stay here.”
“And you get plenty of both in Blackthorn,” Gray put in. “I’ve done a great deal of traveling, Mrs. Concannon, and I’ve never been to a place as lovely or as comfortable as this. You must be very proud of Brianna for her success.”
“Hmph. I imagine right enough you’re comfortable here, in my daughter’s bed.”
“It would be a foolish man who wasn’t,” he said amiably before Brianna could comment. “You’re to be commended for raising such a warm-hearted, kind-natured woman who also has the brains and the dedication to run a successful business. She amazes me.”
Stumped, Maeve said nothing. The compliment was a curve she hadn’t expected. She was still searching through it for the insult when Gray crossed to the counter.
“I picked up a little something for both of you myself.” He’d left the bag in the kitchen before he’d gone out to Brianna. Setting the scene, he thought now, as he wanted it to play.
“Why, isn’t that kind.” Surprise and pleasure coursed through Lottie’s voice as she accepted the box Gray offered.
“Just tokens,” Gray said, smiling as Brianna simply stared at him, baffled. Lottie’s little gasp of delight pleased him enormously.
“It’s a little bird. Look here, Maeve, a crystal bird.
See how it catches the sunlight.”
“You can hang it by a wire in the window,” Gray explained. “It’ll make rainbows for you. You make me think of rainbows, Lottie.”
“Oh, go on with you. Rainbows.” She blinked back a film of moisture and rose to give Gray a hard hug. “I’ll be hanging it right in our front window.
Thank you, Gray, you’re a darling man. Isn’t he a darling man, Maeve?”
Maeve grunted, hesitated over the lid of her gift box. By rights, she knew she should toss the thing into his face rather than take a gift from a man of his kind. But Lottie’s crystal bird was such a pretty thing. And the combination of basic greed and curiosity had her flipping open the lid.
Speechless, she lifted out the gilt and glass shaped like a heart. It had a lid as well, and when she opened it, music played.
“Oh, a music box.” Lottie clapped her hands together. “What a beautiful thing, and how clever. What’s the tune it’s playing?”
“Stardust,” Maeve murmured and caught herself just before she began to hum along with it. “An old tune.”
“A classic,” Gray added. “They didn’t have anything Irish, but this seemed to suit you.”
The corners of Maeve’s mouth turned up as the music charmed her. She cleared her throat, shot Gray a level look. “Thank you, Mr. Thane.”
“Gray,” he said easily.
Thirty minutes later Brianna placed her hands on her hips. There was only she and Gray in the kitchen now, and the plate of tarts was empty. “ ’Twas like a bribe.”
“No, ’twasn’t like a bribe,” he said, mimicking her. “It was a bribe. Damn good one, too. She smiled at me before she left.”
Brianna huffed. “I don’t know who I should be more ashamed of, you or her.”
“Then just think of it as a peace offering. I don’t want your mother giving you grief over me, Brianna.”
“Clever you were. A music box.”
“I thought so. Every time she listens to it, she’ll think of me. Before too long, she’ll convince herself I’m not such a bad sort after all.”
She didn’t want to smile. It was outrageous. “Figured her out, have you?”
“A good writer’s a good observer. She’s used to complaining.” He opened the refrigerator, helped himself to a beer. “Trouble is, she doesn’t have nearly enough to complain about these days. Must be frustrating.” He popped the top off the bottle, took a swig. “And she’s afraid you’ve closed yourself off to her. She doesn’t know how to make the move that’ll close the gap.”
“I’ve some berry tarts to go with it.” Brianna shot Gray a look as she headed for her bedroom. “Baked fresh this morning.”
“Ah, that’s lovely. Do you know, Grayson, my oldest son, that’s Peter, he went to America. To Boston he went, to visit cousins we have there. He visited the harbor where you Yanks dumped the British tea off the boat. Gone back twice again, he has, and taken his children. His own son, Shawn, is going to move there and take a job.”
She chatted on about Boston and her family while Maeve sat in sullen silence. A few moments later Brianna came back in, carrying two small boxes.
“There’s so many shops there,” she commented, determined to be cheerful. “Everywhere you look something else is for sale. It was hard to decide what to bring you.”
“Whatever it is, it’ll be lovely.” Eager to see, Lottie set down a plate of tarts and reached for her box. “Oh, would you look at this?” She lifted the small, decorative bottle to the light where it gleamed rich blue.
“ ’Tis for scent, if you like, or just for setting out.”
“It’s lovely as it can be,” Lottie declared. “Look how it’s got flowers carved right into it. Lilies. How sweet of you, Brianna. Oh, and Maeve, yours is red as a ruby. With poppies. Won’t these look fine, setting on the dresser?”
“They’re pretty enough.” Maeve couldn’t quite resist running her finger over the etching. If she had a weakness, it was for pretty things. She felt she’d never gotten her fair share of them. “It was kind of you to give me a passing thought while you were off staying in a grand hotel and consorting with movie stars.”
“Tom Cruise,” Lottie said, easily ignoring the sarcasm. “Is he as handsome a lad as he looks in the films?”
“Every bit, and charming as well. He and his wife may come here.”
“Here?” Amazed at the thought, Lottie pressed a hand to her breast. “Right here to Blackthorn Cottage?”
Brianna smiled at Lottie. “So he said.”
“That’ll be the day,” Maeve muttered. “What would so rich and high-flying a man want with staying at this place?”
“Peace,” Brianna said coolly. “And a few good meals. What everyone else wants when they stay here.”
“And you get plenty of both in Blackthorn,” Gray put in. “I’ve done a great deal of traveling, Mrs. Concannon, and I’ve never been to a place as lovely or as comfortable as this. You must be very proud of Brianna for her success.”
“Hmph. I imagine right enough you’re comfortable here, in my daughter’s bed.”
“It would be a foolish man who wasn’t,” he said amiably before Brianna could comment. “You’re to be commended for raising such a warm-hearted, kind-natured woman who also has the brains and the dedication to run a successful business. She amazes me.”
Stumped, Maeve said nothing. The compliment was a curve she hadn’t expected. She was still searching through it for the insult when Gray crossed to the counter.
“I picked up a little something for both of you myself.” He’d left the bag in the kitchen before he’d gone out to Brianna. Setting the scene, he thought now, as he wanted it to play.
“Why, isn’t that kind.” Surprise and pleasure coursed through Lottie’s voice as she accepted the box Gray offered.
“Just tokens,” Gray said, smiling as Brianna simply stared at him, baffled. Lottie’s little gasp of delight pleased him enormously.
“It’s a little bird. Look here, Maeve, a crystal bird.
See how it catches the sunlight.”
“You can hang it by a wire in the window,” Gray explained. “It’ll make rainbows for you. You make me think of rainbows, Lottie.”
“Oh, go on with you. Rainbows.” She blinked back a film of moisture and rose to give Gray a hard hug. “I’ll be hanging it right in our front window.
Thank you, Gray, you’re a darling man. Isn’t he a darling man, Maeve?”
Maeve grunted, hesitated over the lid of her gift box. By rights, she knew she should toss the thing into his face rather than take a gift from a man of his kind. But Lottie’s crystal bird was such a pretty thing. And the combination of basic greed and curiosity had her flipping open the lid.
Speechless, she lifted out the gilt and glass shaped like a heart. It had a lid as well, and when she opened it, music played.
“Oh, a music box.” Lottie clapped her hands together. “What a beautiful thing, and how clever. What’s the tune it’s playing?”
“Stardust,” Maeve murmured and caught herself just before she began to hum along with it. “An old tune.”
“A classic,” Gray added. “They didn’t have anything Irish, but this seemed to suit you.”
The corners of Maeve’s mouth turned up as the music charmed her. She cleared her throat, shot Gray a level look. “Thank you, Mr. Thane.”
“Gray,” he said easily.
Thirty minutes later Brianna placed her hands on her hips. There was only she and Gray in the kitchen now, and the plate of tarts was empty. “ ’Twas like a bribe.”
“No, ’twasn’t like a bribe,” he said, mimicking her. “It was a bribe. Damn good one, too. She smiled at me before she left.”
Brianna huffed. “I don’t know who I should be more ashamed of, you or her.”
“Then just think of it as a peace offering. I don’t want your mother giving you grief over me, Brianna.”
“Clever you were. A music box.”
“I thought so. Every time she listens to it, she’ll think of me. Before too long, she’ll convince herself I’m not such a bad sort after all.”
She didn’t want to smile. It was outrageous. “Figured her out, have you?”
“A good writer’s a good observer. She’s used to complaining.” He opened the refrigerator, helped himself to a beer. “Trouble is, she doesn’t have nearly enough to complain about these days. Must be frustrating.” He popped the top off the bottle, took a swig. “And she’s afraid you’ve closed yourself off to her. She doesn’t know how to make the move that’ll close the gap.”
