That Night on Thistle Lane Page 8

  Dylan answered before Noah could. “Only until they learn he got perfect scores on his SATs and graduated a year early from MIT. Then it gets interesting. A billion in the bank’s nothing compared to being good at math.”

  Noah smiled at Olivia. “Ignore him. He’s been like that since kindergarten.”

  “This place is coming together,” she said, “but it’s not done yet. There’s so much more to do. So many possibilities.”

  “You love it here,” Noah said.

  “I do. As I mentioned, Maggie will be in and out, if you don’t mind.”

  “It’s your house.”

  “She can help you with anything you need. Phoebe can, too. She’s always willing to help people, and she knows at least as much about what’s going on in town as her mother does. Elly works at the town offices. She’s a ball of fire, if you run into her. She’ll tell you anything you want to know about goats and then some.”

  “Good to know,” Noah said with a sideways glance at Dylan. Goats. They were discussing goats again.

  “Sure you want to stay?” Dylan asked with a grin.

  Olivia ignored them both. “Noah, if you want to keep your presence here a secret, Maggie and Phoebe won’t say anything. People in town are aware of who you are, because of my relationship with Dylan, but they’ll assume you’re in San Diego. They won’t recognize you. For one thing, they’d expect you to have an entourage.”

  Noah was amused. “An entourage,” he said.

  “You know.” Olivia shrugged. “People. Bodyguards and chauffeurs and valets. That sort of thing.”

  He’d had a chauffeur and a bodyguard from time to time, but never a valet. He’d always managed to get himself dressed. He might have danced with a woman pretending to be a princess, but he wasn’t a prince.

  “The women he dates have entourages,” Dylan said. “Noah’s just a guy with a lot of zeroes in his net worth.”

  Noah rolled his eyes but addressed Olivia. “Your fiancé is dangerous when he starts talking numbers.”

  She laughed. “I can see how you two were a good pair at NAK and have stayed friends for so long. I need to run into town. I want to see Maggie before we leave for the airport. Noah, you can hang out with Buster and see how it goes. There’s still time to change your mind.”

  As she went back through the kitchen, Noah stepped back onto the terrace and sat at the table. He heard bumblebees buzzing in purple flowers behind a green-painted bench. They weren’t chives. Some kind of mint, he thought. If he stayed in Knights Bridge for more than forty-eight hours, he probably would learn all about New England flowers and herbs.

  “Do you think Olivia will fall in love with San Diego?” he asked.

  Dylan’s eyes darkened. “I hope so, but Knights Bridge is where she belongs. It’s home for her. It always was, even when she was in Boston.”

  “You belong here, too,” Noah said. “You know there’s ice here in the winter, right? Also in the fall and spring, and probably at times in the dead of summer, too.”

  “You’re a riot, Noah,” Dylan said.

  “Think Buster needs a walk?” Noah asked.

  “You’re the dog sitter. You tell me.”

  Noah frowned at the big dog. Hell if he could tell. “Think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew?”

  “Way more.”

  “Well. I need a walk, and I’ll bet I can talk Buster into coming along. What about you?”

  Dylan shook his head in bemusement. “I’ll get Buster’s leash.”

  Six

  Phoebe had her gorgeous brown silk gown zipped into a garment bag and hung in a closet before Maggie, wearing a black sundress that drained what color there was in her face, arrived with the outfits she and Olivia had worn.

  “Olivia’s getting cold feet about going to San Diego,” Maggie said as she entered Phoebe’s small living room. “I told her she has to go so she can bring the boys stuffed giraffes from the zoo.”

  “She’ll go,” Phoebe said. “It’s just preflight jitters.”

  “I hope so. The ball was incredible last night. You’d have loved the costumes.”

  Maggie laid the Audrey Hepburn and Grace Kelly dresses on a loveseat angled against the front windows, the afternoon summer sun streaming through filmy curtains.

  “Then you and Olivia had a good time?” Phoebe asked.

  “Olivia especially did. She’s so much more comfortable in her own skin than she was when she moved back to town. Your dresses were a hit.” Maggie gave her Grace Kelly gown a lingering look, as if she was thinking about last night and what might have been. She smiled stiffly at Phoebe. “What have you been up to?”

  “I just came from Olivia’s. The basil needs to be picked. She won’t have time before she goes to San Diego. I thought maybe you and I could make pesto or something.”

  “Sure. That’d be great.”

  “She and Dylan arrived with Noah Kendrick,” Phoebe said, wanting to do something—say something—to penetrate her sister’s pensive mood. “Did you meet him last night? He’s not what I expected.”

  “In what way?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I thought he’d be fidgety but he’s not. He’s...” She thought a moment. “Calm, I suppose.”

  “He and Dylan went straight from hiking in the White Mountains to the masquerade last night. He’s probably tired, but it wouldn’t matter. He strikes me as calm, too. Centered. I expected such a genius tech type to be a little weird, but he doesn’t come across that way.” Maggie smoothed a few wrinkles in the dress with her fingertips then stood back, marginally more cheerful. “I should go. I promised the boys I’d ride bikes with them. I missed them last night.”

  Phoebe followed her out to the porch, the afternoon still and warm. “Maggie, are you okay?”

  “Just tired. I’m not used to nights on the town. What are you doing the rest of the day?”

  “I’ll stop at Mom’s later. Right now I’m going to put my feet up in the shade and read a book. Maybe a good swashbuckler tale.”

  Maggie seemed to pull herself out of her own private thoughts and focus more on the conversation. “There were swashbucklers at the ball last night.”

  “I’m sure there were,” Phoebe said. She didn’t want to lie outright but skirting the truth seemed just as duplicitous. She changed the subject. “I’ll have the dresses cleaned. We’re going to use them in the fashion show. Maybe you and Olivia can model them.”

  “Only if you insist,” Maggie said with a welcome laugh. “Olivia and I will pay for the cleaning. We just didn’t want to do anything without checking with you first. It was quite an experience last night. You’ll get the Edwardian gown cleaned at the same time?”

  Phoebe felt her heartbeat quicken. “What Edwardian gown?”

  Her sister paused on the top porch step and turned to her. “The deep brown sequined Edwardian gown you wore last night. It was you, wasn’t it?” When Phoebe didn’t respond, Maggie nearly choked. “Phoebe! It was you! I was just testing. I wasn’t really serious.”

  Phoebe groaned. “Maggie...”

  “I didn’t know you could dance like that.”

  “I can’t. The man I danced with can. I have no idea who he is. Please don’t say anything, Maggie. I decided to go at the last minute. I know I could have called you and Olivia but if I had, I’d have chickened out and stayed here, or turned around halfway to Boston.” Phoebe took a breath, trying to control the tumble of words, the feeling that she’d just been caught doing something embarrassing and dumb. “I’d have been too self-conscious if you two knew. I’d never have gone through with it.”

  “Why? You were gorgeous. Really. People couldn’t take their eyes off you.”

  “That’s kind of you to say—”

  “It’s true. I saw you and wondered if it was you. Then you disappeared, and I was distracted.”

  Probably by Brandon, Phoebe thought. “You can’t tell anyone I was there last night. I’d just die if anyone knew, and sneaking in like that
just makes it worse. I wasn’t myself.” Phoebe looked at the pink roses trailing up her white-painted trellis. This is my life. She got her breathing and heartbeat under control and turned back to her sister. “There is one thing you could do for me. I’d like to get a message to the man I danced with. I wonder if Dylan might know him.”

  Maggie frowned. “What kind of message, Phoebe?”

  “As I was leaving, I overheard another man talking on the phone about him. Not by name but by his description...” She paused, removing a folded piece of paper from her dress pocket. “After I got home last night, I typed up everything the man said.” Except, she thought, what he’d said about finding out who her swashbuckler’s dance partner was. She didn’t want any reason for anyone—Dylan, Olivia, her sister—to worry about her. She thrust the note at Maggie. “I was going to give it to Dylan when he got back from Boston, but I chickened out.”

  “Because you don’t want him to know you were there last night,” Maggie said with some sympathy.

  Phoebe nodded. “I didn’t tell Olivia, either. I got so carried away dancing. If I’d just slipped in, had a few hors d’oeuvres, checked out the costumes and left, that’d be one thing. But I didn’t.”

  “You had a good time, Phoebe. You didn’t make a spectacle of yourself, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  It was exactly what she was thinking. “I just don’t want to have to explain. It was a moment, and it’s over.” She smiled. “I’m back home where I belong.”

  “Right. I understand, Phoebe.” Maggie held up the folded paper, a spark in her eyes now. “What’s in the note? Anything juicy?”

  “I only heard one end of the conversation so I don’t have the context for what was said. It struck me as provocative. Like this guy had an ax to grind with my swashbuckler. He’d already disappeared on me, so I just got out of there. Then I thought about it and realized I probably should have found him and told him what I overheard. I hadn’t wanted to chase him down if he didn’t want...you know.”

  “You mean you didn’t want to go find him if he’d ditched you,” her sister said.

  Phoebe felt her cheeks flame. “That’s what I mean, yes.”

  Maggie sighed. “I can’t say I blame you.”

  “When I got home I decided I should write everything down.”

  “Was there an implied or direct threat in what you overheard? Were you afraid? We can always talk to Eric.”

  Eric Sloan was Brandon’s eldest brother, a town police officer. “I’d have grabbed a security guard if I’d felt threatened. It wasn’t anything that overt. Really, for all I know my swashbuckler was stepping out on his wife last night and she sicced this guy on him.” Phoebe gave a small, thin laugh. “That’d be right up my alley, wouldn’t it? Not that I’ll ever see him again.”

  “Phoebe—”

  She held up a hand, stopping her sister. “No, don’t. Don’t tell me anything you know, anything you suspect. I want to forget last night. I’ve assuaged my conscience by writing the note and giving it to you to give to Dylan. Let him think someone tucked it in your dress and you only just found it.”

  “You mean I lie to him instead of you lying to him?” Maggie grinned suddenly, tucking the note in her pocket. “I’m proud of you, Phoebe. I didn’t think you had it in you to be a little devious.”

  “I just don’t want this to become a thing. You can read the note. If you think I’m overreacting and it’s not worth giving to Dylan, just toss it out your window.”

  “And risk having some big gossip in town find it? No way. Did you include a description of this man you overheard?”

  “I did, yes.”

  “You’re a regular James Bond.”

  Phoebe was relieved to see Maggie more animated, even if it was at her own expense. “Whatever is going on, it has nothing to do with me. I was just a curiosity.”

  “Because of that killer dress, not to mention a couple of dips you took while dancing—”

  “Maggie, please. Don’t.”

  Her sister tilted her head back, studying Phoebe in the late-afternoon light. “This swashbuckler of yours really got to you, didn’t he?”

  “We had a moment and now it’s over, as well it should be. It wasn’t real. For me, or for him.”

  Maggie nodded. “Okay. If you say so. Meet you at Mom’s in a bit?”

  “Sure. Maggie, last night—”

  “It was a strange night for both of us, Phoebe. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  Brandon, Phoebe thought, but she said nothing as Maggie trotted down the porch steps and back out to her car, at least in a better mood than when she’d arrived. Brandon had to have been the reason for her melancholy. Phoebe tensed, wishing she could pick up the phone and give her brother-in-law a piece of her mind. She might not always speak up for herself—she wasn’t by nature a bold person—but she would defend her sisters.

  Only Maggie had told Phoebe, Ava, Ruby and their mother to stay out of the problems between her and Brandon, and she was totally right to do so. They’d never really discussed the details of what had driven Maggie back to Knights Bridge without her husband.

  Phoebe sat on a wicker chair and breathed in the warm summer air, scented with roses. Why hadn’t she wanted Maggie to tell her what she might know—any suspicions she might have—about her dance partner?

  Maybe, Phoebe thought, it wasn’t just that she was worried that, unmasked, she’d be a disappointment in real life. Maybe she was worried he would be, too.

  She liked the fantasy of last night, she realized.

  She didn’t want it to end.

  * * *

  Maggie was close to hyperventilating as she arrived at Carriage Hill, all but screeching to a stop on the side of the narrow back road.

  What was she going to do? That was Phoebe last night. With Noah Kendrick.

  “My sister,” she said aloud.

  She had to calm down. It was one night. That was all there was to it. There was no budding relationship between her sister and Noah Kendrick.

  Maggie pushed open her van door with a groan. There’d been sparks between them, though.

  A lot of sparks.

  She jumped out and headed for the kitchen ell, a newer addition to the pretty antique house. She peered through the screen door but didn’t see anyone and let herself in. Her breathing more or less back under control, she went through the mudroom out to the terrace.

  Noah Kendrick sat alone at the round table. He was as still as a statue, dressed head-to-toe in black.

  “Where’s Olivia?” Maggie asked before he could say a word.

  “Upstairs packing, I believe.” He turned to her with an enigmatic smile. “Hello, Maggie.”

  “Hello. Sorry. I’m in a whirlwind.”

  “You enjoyed your night out in Boston?”

  “I did, yes.” She didn’t dare ask him if he’d enjoyed his. He was smart, rich, experienced. He’d see right through her. “Olivia’s packed for San Diego? She and Dylan are going back with you? She hasn’t bailed on you, has she?”

  “They’re flying to San Diego together. I’m staying here.” Noah’s expression didn’t change. “I’m dog sitting.”

  Maggie gulped in air. Dog sitting? Was he serious? She really was going to pass out if her family and friends kept throwing curveballs at her. Did Noah know about Phoebe? Was that why he was staying? Had to be, Maggie thought. Why else would a billionaire dog sit in little Knights Bridge, especially with his best friend in San Diego?

  She gave herself a mental shake. Maybe Noah was staying because of the mystery man Phoebe had overheard. Of course Maggie had read the note. Phoebe had typed up her transcript and printed it, probably so no one could recognize her handwriting. She was thorough like that. Maggie would have thought of such a cover-up only after the fact.

  “You’re staying here alone?” she asked Noah.

  “I’ll have Buster for company.”

  Buster was a great dog but he didn’t qualify as company for a bill
ionaire. But what did she know about billionaires? “Do you think Olivia will love it in San Diego?”

  Noah seemed surprised by her question, as if it would never occur to him to ask. “Dylan’s place on Coronado is very nice. It’s a great location. You can see the Pacific from almost every window.”

  “Sounds lovely. Brandon and I went to California right after we got married. He’s always loved to travel. Well, I can’t stay long. I promised the boys I’d ride bikes with them. We live in the village.” Why couldn’t she calm down? Noah was already looking suspicious, as if he could read her mind and knew she wasn’t being entirely straight with him. Not straight at all, in fact. “I should go find Olivia.”

  “She said you’d be working here some of the time.”

  “That’s right. Do you like herbs, Noah? I’m thinking about trying some new recipes.”

  His gaze, already steady, leveled on her. “Just be sure no slugs end up in the pot with them. I met your sister earlier. She’d been on slug patrol.”

  “My sister? I have three sisters—”

  “Phoebe.”

  He gave no hint of recognition but he struck Maggie as a man of supreme self-control. She tried not to choke. “Phoebe loves to dig in the dirt. When she’s not reading a book in the shade, that is. I’ll...um...” She cleared her throat, wondering if she was purple from not breathing properly. “I’ll watch for slugs. See you soon.”

  She welcomed the cooler air inside the house and ran through the living room to the stairs that led to the second floor. She paused to catch her breath and look where she was going. She tripped up Olivia’s narrow, steep stairs half the time, even on a good day.

  Did Phoebe have any idea that it was Noah last night? Noah clearly had no idea it had been her. Maggie got that. Phoebe in shorts and a T-shirt, poking around for slugs. Not exactly the image she’d presented at the masquerade. He’d be hoping for...well, not for Phoebe O’Dunn. Maggie felt a surge of resentment that anyone could reject her older sister, but she also had to admit that Phoebe at home in Knights Bridge wasn’t at all like the woman in the Edwardian gown last night.