Holly Read online

  “Where have you been?” Taylor hissed, but didn’t give Holly a chance to answer. “You look horrible. Go to the powder room and do what you can with yourself.”

  “But it’s late and—”

  “Lorrie is sitting in the living room. He wants to see you. He came back from his trip early just to see you. Now go on, do something with yourself.”

  Holly scurried into the powder room.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL,” LORRIE SAID, SMILING at her.

  They were in an old-fashioned wooden canoe, Lorrie rowing them slowly down the river leading to Belle Chere. Taylor had supervised Holly’s dressing that morning so she was wearing a narrow cotton-lace skirt that kept wrapping around her legs. Twice Lorrie had had to catch her before she fell.

  Last night when he’d invited her out for today, she hadn’t been able to say that she had a previous engagement with the gardener, so she’d accepted.

  The next day, Taylor took so much time in dressing Holly she’d not been able to slip out to tell Nick in person that she wouldn’t see him that day. Instead, she’d seen him in the kitchen, talking to her father, and she’d loudly reiterated her plans for the day. Nick had listened but made no comment.

  “Now try on this blouse. Lorrie will love it.”

  Holly wasn’t sure how Taylor thought she knew what Lorrie would like, but she allowed herself to be dressed in linen and lace, all of it white and easily dirtied. There’d be no hiking in the swamp looking for tree-covered cave entrances.

  Promptly at ten, Lorrie had picked her up, and immediately, Holly had started questioning him about Arthur and Jason and Julia.

  Lorrie laughed in a pleasant way. “I seem to have unleashed a flood. Holly dearest, I know no more than I told you. I’m afraid that over the years that story has become merely a dinner party entertainment. Told only to a select few, of course.”

  “Oh,” Holly said, disappointed, then told herself to grow up. Not everyone was fascinated with history, even if it involved injustice and a lost treasure. She made herself relax against the leather of Lorrie’s BMW and told herself she had to make conversation. Since she was usually with other preservationists and academics, it was a long time since she’d had a simple chat. On the other hand, she never seemed to have trouble talking to Nick. But what did they talk about? The word “sex” came to her mind.

  At that thought her face turned red and she looked out the side window. When Lorrie took her hand, she looked back.

  “A penny…” he said.

  “I was just thinking that it had been a long time since I’d talked about anything except work.”

  “Me, either,” he said. “Shall we ban talk of work for the day? Yours and mine.” He gave her a sideways look. “And Belle Chere.”

  Holly wrinkled her brow. “No work? No Belle Chere? What else is there?”

  They laughed together, then Lorrie spoke. “Tell me every word of everything you’ve done since you were thirteen.”

  “Okay, so there’s fifteen minutes of the day gone, then what?”

  “That I don’t believe. A beautiful woman like you?” He lifted her hand and kissed the palm. “You must have had a million proposals of marriage by now.”

  She started to say she hadn’t, but changed her mind. “Only eight hundred and twelve thousand, give or take one or two.”

  “No more? Surely…?”

  Again, they laughed together. Holly leaned back in the seat and smiled. This is going to work out well, she thought.

  However, two hours later, she was bored. It was one thing to see romantic photos of a lady in white being rowed down the river by a handsome man, but quite another to experience it. The truth was, she’d like to take off her clothes and go skinny-dipping.

  But not with Lorrie. With Nick.

  She took a deep breath and told herself to stop that. “So tell me about your marriage.” That question should liven things up!

  “What do you think about air-conditioning Belle Chere?” Lorrie asked, his eyes laughing.

  “Oh! So I’m to confess all, but you’re to tell me nothing?”

  “Might I point out that you’ve told me nothing whatever about yourself.”

  “What should I tell you? That the summer I spent with you at Belle Chere changed my life?”

  “That’s a good start. Go on.”

  Briefly, she told him how she’d kept the love of old houses that he’d instilled in her, and that all she needed now was to complete her Ph.D. She trailed her hand in the water. “And since you asked me to help you find the treasure…”

  When Lorrie grunted, she looked at him. “My darling Hollander,” he said softly, “I fear that that treasure is a myth. Truthfully, I had completely dishonorable intentions in telling that story.”

  “But Nick said it was real,” she blurted, then closed her mouth firmly.

  “And who is Nick?”

  Looking away, Holly said, “He works for us.”

  “The gardener?” Lorrie asked in disbelief. “You’re quoting the gardener?”

  “He’s a nice guy,” Holly said defensively.

  “I’m sure he is. However, I can’t see how he’d have any insight into my family’s history.” Lorrie chuckled. “Unless he’s psychic, of course.”

  Again, Holly looked away, her face even redder, and she thought how silly it had been for her to believe Nick. A clairvoyant! she thought. A cave with a tree planted over it. How absurd. “I really would like to know about your marriage,” she said to distract Lorrie.

  As he rowed, he began to tell her of his former marriage. As far as Holly could tell, Lorrie had married the older woman out of pity. Her husband had always taken care of her and after the man died, as her lawyer, Lorrie had had to spend masses of time with her as he sorted through her husband’s many businesses.

  “She was lonely,” Lorrie said, “and for the first time since she was nineteen she had no man to take care of her. When she was going to cancel attending a charity ball because she had no escort, I volunteered to go with her. After that, one thing led to another, and…” He looked at Holly with sad eyes. “I’m ashamed to say that I was dazzled by her. She was a very beautiful and very wealthy woman. There were yacht parties and summer cottages with a dozen bedrooms. Being with her was like living in a past time. A time”—he lowered his voice—“such as when Belle Chere was at its peak. She made me feel like my ancestors must have felt when they gave parties for three hundred people.”

  He stopped rowing. “Can you forgive me?”

  “Forgive you?” she asked. “For what?”

  “For being too young and foolish to have seen what was right under my nose when I first met you.”

  “I forgive you,” she said. “And I was just a kid that summer.”

  “Yeah, and I’d sworn off women for the entire summer.”

  She’d always wanted to hear his side of why he’d given up a social life with kids his own age. “So tell me everything,” she said, and he talked some more.

  By four o’clock, Holly felt much better than she had earlier. All in all, she and Lorrie had had a lovely day. He was a wonderful raconteur, and he’d told story after story about his family, past and present, and about his law practice. There were a couple of times when she thought he was being a bit indiscreet, but his confidences only made her feel as though he trusted her—and that he planned to keep her in his future life.

  By 4:30, they were at Belle Chere and all the lethargy of the day fell away as they walked through the gardens and inspected every inch of the plantation. In daylight, Holly saw much more deterioration than she’d seen at night. Roofs were in bad shape; walls sagged. Rats were gnawing at floorboards. Owls were nesting. And the weeds! Vines grew up through floors and out windows.

  Holly said little but she saw a lot. At this rate, in about fifteen years, Belle Chere would be in ruins. All that would be left would be piles of rotting wood. People would say, “There used to a cotton gin over there