Once in a Lifetime. Gwynne Forster

lied, but no sane man would have hired her as a housekeeper if he knew the life she’d lived.

      Alexis didn’t know how long she counted sheep, but she awoke from peaceful oblivion to hear Tara say, “I wanna go eat, Mummy. Mr. Henry’s cooking something for me.”

      “In a minute, and say please.”

      “Please.”

      She dressed Tara and then herself and went downstairs, where Telford and Drake sat at the table in the kitchen. Drake got up immediately and went to the breakfast room to get two chairs.

      “I hope you slept well,” Telford said when they greeted each other, warily, like two cats who’d lost their night vision.

      “Well as could be expected.”

      He stopped chewing and looked directly at her. “What do you mean by that? If you weren’t comfortable, I’ll get you some new mattresses. Today.”

      “I was very comfortable, and the room is delightful. But… Telford, I’ve just changed my life. It’s going to take some getting used to.”

      She had his full attention then, and her nerves rioted as his piercing gaze focused on her, his beloved sausage and grits momentarily forgotten. “If you have a problem you think I can help you with, let me know. That’s what I’m here for.”

      She hadn’t expected that show of compassion, and her eyebrows arched sharply. “I appreciate that, Telford, but if you and I get along well, that’s all the help I think I’ll need. Now where on earth did Tara go?”

      He waved his fork in the direction of the kitchen stove. “She’s over there admiring Henry. I hope she can get him to cook something other than hamburgers, steaks and chops. I’ve begun to hate that stuff.” Something suggestive of pain streaked across his face.

      “I’ll see what I can do about that. Not to worry.”

      He stared at her for a long time before he asked, “You can cook?”

      “Wouldn’t you expect a housekeeper to be able to cook? You bet I can.”

      “Right on!” Drake said, walking back to the table holding two stacked chairs in one hand and Tara by the other. “Maybe we’ll get some variety in these meals.”

      Telford’s face creased into a smile. “If Henry hears you say that, we’ll be eating cabbage stew until he decides he’s had adequate revenge.”

      “Tell me about it. You going to Baltimore this morning?” Drake asked Telford. “It wouldn’t hurt you to take a Saturday off once a year.” He took his plate to the stove for more eggs and bacon.

      “Can’t. That school’s going to be perfect if I have to lay every stone with my own hands. The Harrington name will stand for the last word in building again, for the very best. People will take notice, if I die trying.”

      She didn’t like the harshness of his voice or the rage that she sensed just below his veneer of gentility.

      “I’ll drag old man Sparkman and his gang down to their knees, if it’s the last thing I do,” he spat out. “That school building is going to be a symbol of quality, and I’ll bring it in on time and on budget.”

      Alexis looked at Telford’s clenched fists and the muscles working in his jaw. Her gaze moved to his eyes and the fierce emotion that robbed them of the warmth that had cast a spell over her the night before. Oh, those eyes held fire, all right, but a different kind of fire, the fire of animosity and a hunger for revenge.

      She didn’t know the reason for his hostility, but she knew that it made him hard and vengeful; no person could be happy feeling as he did.

      The fingers of her right hand closed over his left wrist. “If you dislike this man so much, he will occupy your thoughts when your mind should be free for other concerns. Whenever you hate anyone, you’re the loser.” His glare didn’t shake her resolve. “What I said is true,” she continued. “Do what you have to do, but don’t think about the man; these feelings you have…they’re…they’re destructive.”

      “Look here. You don’t know anything about this, nor what this man has cost my family. You’d do well not to talk out of turn.”

      She couldn’t let it go at that. This man hurt, and he would go on hurting until he got the better of his enemy, but she knew that when he did, he’d have a hollow victory.

      “I don’t mean to offend you, but you’ll never be at peace this way.”

      He pushed his chair back from the table and put his hands on his knees in a move to leave. “I don’t care for namby-pamby. That’s not… Wait a minute, you’re not a pacifist or a…” His eyes widened. “A—”

      She finished it for him. “A Quaker, a member of the Society of Friends. I am not namby-pamby, as you put it, and I stand up for my rights. But I do not argue or hold grudges, and I don’t let anger get in the way of my common sense. Yours is ruling you.”

      He leaned back in the chair. “Who the… Who’d have thought it? Did you come from a family of Quakers?”

      She shook her head. “I was raised a Methodist.”

      “Why the change? Is your ex-husband a Quaker?”

      That was good for a laugh. “I don’t know what he is. I joined the Friends because I needed to be with people whose lives were different from the volatile and sometimes violent relationships I witnessed in my parents, and whose values were unlike those of my manipulative and greedy husband.”

      She supposed she’d shocked him until she saw on his face something akin to recognition. He seemed uncomfortable, as though she’d given him information that he’d rather not have.

      “Sorry if I’ve embarrassed you.”

      He held up his hand. “No. No. It’s all right. I…I was thinking what a difficult life you must have had. Yet you take me to task for being angry. Neither of us has had a happy time of it.” He stood. “I hope you’ll be happier here. Henry will show you that room by the garden. See you this evening.”

      “Around seven?” she asked to emphasize their agreement to eat dinner at a fixed time.

      “All right. Seven.”

      “Mr. Telford, I wanna go with you.”

      She’d almost forgotten that Tara sat quietly at the table listening to their conversation.

      “Tell you what,” he said to Tara, who’d left the table and was holding his hand. “You and I will take a little walk another day, but not today. Okay?”

      “Don’t forget, Mr. Telford. We’re going to walk.”

      She hoped he wouldn’t disappoint her child. Jack never remembered his promises to his daughter, and she didn’t want her to grow up thinking that men were unreliable.

      “Did he leave?” Drake asked, pulled out the chair Telford vacated and sat down.

      She nodded. “He’ll be back by seven.”

      An amused twinkle danced in Drake’s dark eyes. “Oh, yeah. You said we had to be home by seven and eat together. I was surprised he didn’t tell you who was boss.”

      “You make me sound like a bore.”

      “Trust me, I didn’t mean to. Think the two of you will get on all right? Telford’s been through plenty, and when he puts himself to it, he can be a real handful.”

      “He’s sensitive, and Tara likes him.”

      “Tara likes any guy wearing pants, which is why I’m not jealous of her affection for Henry. He doesn’t even want people to like him.” He buttered a biscuit and spread raspberry jam on it. “Three or four hours after she meets him, she’s trailing behind him, and he’s going halfway to Frederick to get bacon for her. He wouldn’t