His Wedding. Muriel Jensen

their happiest times, to realize how much he was loved anyway.

      Thus far, his life had been grim. China had told her that when Susannah Stewart had died in London shortly after Brian was born, the chauffeur she’d run off with had called Corbin Girard to tell him about his motherless son. But Girard had been out of the country and his wife, Frances, had taken the call.

      Frances, a scrupulous woman, had sent for the baby, and when Corbin had arrived home insisted they raise the boy. Corbin had hated Brian for reminding him of the mistake he was unable to escape. And while Frances loved Brian, he reminded her every day of her husband’s faithlessness. Brian claimed to have been confused as a child by the sadness in her eyes when she looked at him.

      He was in desperate need of a large dose of good cheer. Preparations for a double wedding would certainly provide that.

      She wrapped a towel around herself and left the bathroom, to find Chloe placing a large crystal bowl of white roses on a crocheted doily on top of the old mahogany highboy in the corner. She turned to smile at Janet, her heart in her eyes as it always was when she looked at her.

      “I thought you might like these,” Chloe said with a soft smile. She was petite, with short gray hair in a smooth style and a still-beautiful face with smile lines and artfully applied makeup. She wore the outfit Janet had brought her from the Joshua Burke outlet in L.A. Chloe usually wore gauzy, loose-fitting gowns around the house, and tailored suits when she went out. But Janet had fallen in love with the soft pink cropped pants and cropped jacket she’d known would flatter her mother’s still-slender figure.

      “Thank you. They’re exquisite. And that looks wonderful on you.” The color pinked her cheeks and brightened her dark eyes.

      “When you were a baby,” Chloe said, handing her a light eyelet robe, “you loved to give things—your bottle, your doll, the shirt off your back quite literally. Your father used to tease that you were a bad advertisement for Abbott Mills products because you were always taking off your clothes.” Her voice quieted and her eyes filled. “And this is my first gift from my grown daughter. Thank you, ma chère. I’m thrilled that you thought of me.”

      “It was my pleasure.” Janet belted the robe and went to hug her mother. “You’ve been so good to me and China.”

      Chloe dismissed that with a very Gallic wave of her hand. “You’re my daughter. And we thought China was, too, for a while, and have decided that she will remain one. I’m so happy she’s marrying Campbell, because now I can still claim her as part of the family.” She looped an arm in Janet’s. “Kezia’s made scones. Will you join us for tea? All the girls are up and waiting to hear how you convinced Brian to be in the wedding.”

      Kezia was the Abbott’s African-American cook and housekeeper. She and her husband, Daniel, the chauffeur, had been with the Abbotts since before Killian was born. A handsome couple, they had the status of family. While Daniel tried to remember what he considered “his place,” Kezia thought hers was in the thick of things and offered her opinion and counsel on all manner of issues, whether asked to or not.

      “I’ll be right there,” Janet promised. “As soon as I’ve put some clothes on.”

      Chloe, one hand on the doorknob, studied Janet with suddenly pointed interest. “China tells me you fell into the water.”

      Janet reached into the closet to avoid Chloe’s gaze. Though they’d been separated most of Janet’s life, she had a mother’s gift for reading her daughter’s mind.

      “I was distracted,” she said, pulling a pale blue shirt out of the closet. She reached into a drawer for matching shorts.

      “You find Brian distracting?”

      “We were arguing. That’s what distracted me.”

      “What did you say to make him change his mind?”

      “I heaped guilt upon him.”

      Janet tossed the clothes on her bed, expecting Chloe to scold her for doing such a thing. Instead, her mother grinned.

      “Well done. I’m never afraid to use guilt in a pinch, if I’m sure it’ll bring about the right result.” She blew Janet a kiss. “It is true that the apple never falls far from the tree. An apt metaphor around here in more ways than one. Hurry, chérie. Killian wants to talk to you, but don’t let him keep you too long or all the scones will be gone. He’s in the library.”

      Dressed and feeling triumphant that she’d been able to accomplish something for Killian by encouraging Brian to join the wedding party, she went downstairs to the beautiful, quiet room Killian used as an office when he was home. It opened onto the rose garden, where Chloe had picked the blooms she’d placed on the high-boy in Janet’s room.

      But Killian didn’t seem surprised that Janet had convinced Brian.

      “I heard,” he said when she tried to tell him about it. He gestured her to a plump sofa. “China told me. Well done. I knew he’d listen to you. But, you’re the one I want to talk about.”

      She wasn’t sure whether to be pleased or nervous. Her situation here, though she felt fairly secure in it, was still so new that she half expected it to come crashing down on her at any moment. She waited for him to go on.

      “I realize it’s early yet and you deserve some time to get your bearings,” he said, coming to sit beside her, “but when you’re ready to go back to work, I’d like you to think about working for Abbott Mills. You’d find the family business challenging and a good place to spread your wings as a businesswoman. You have an impressive history with Watson, Dunn and Crawford.”

      She pretended to frown at him. He was known for the research he put into projects of any description. “You looked me up?”

      “I look everything up,” he admitted. “You’ve been in the business only four years, but you had some very happy clients and bosses who raved about your accomplishments. At a time when no one can predict what the market will do, you were making investors money.”

      “The market’s fairly simple to analyze…” she began.

      “No, it’s not,” he argued. “It’s difficult and painstaking, but you seem to have a gift for it. I’d have probably been able to pick you out as an Abbott even before the DNA test proved you one.”

      She shrugged away the compliment. “We had a business class in high school and one of our projects was to pick a few stocks and follow their progress. I won some and lost some but tapped a real enthusiasm for the process. I kept the interest up in college and had so much fun with it I knew I’d make a career of it.”

      She heard the words come out of her mouth and wondered what had happened to the woman she’d been just a little over a month ago. She was still Janet Grant, but she felt as though discovering the Abbotts had changed the shape of her life. No, she wasn’t really Janet anymore. She was Janby, a composite of then and now.

      Killian’s offer touched and flattered her, but business was the last thing on her mind right now.

      “Will it disappoint you if I decide to do something else?” she asked candidly. “At least for a while.”

      He considered a moment. “Only in that it’s so great to have you back and to discover that you’re a lot like I am. I’d miss the time it’d give us together. It makes me wonder what our lives would have been like if we’d grown up together, instead of my feeling responsible for the fact that you were taken.”

      Every other thought in her head dissolved at that casual admission. She hitched a knee up on the sofa cushion to turn toward him and look him in the eye.

      “What?” she asked.

      He shook his head and prepared to stand, but she put a hand to his arm to hold him there. “Killian…”

      “Doesn’t matter.” He placed a fraternal hand over hers. “It’s not important. It’s just interesting to speculate on what might have been.”