The Family Diamond. Moyra Tarling

painfully and her breath froze in her throat.

      “There you are, Maura,” Nora Diamond’s greeting shattered the tension-filled silence. It was with some relief Maura turned to her hostess. “Is your room comfortable?” Nora asked.

      “It’s lovely, thank you,” Maura responded.

      “Be sure and let me know if you need anything,” Nora said with a smile. “Is that Chardonnay you’re drinking?”

      Maura nodded. “Your son kindly poured me a glass.”

      “Spencer, dear. I’ll have one, too,” his mother said. “Oh…and, Maura, when it comes to mealtimes, they’re usually a casual affair. My husband told me to announce that dinner’s ready, so please take a seat anywhere at the table,” she went on. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and give Elliot a hand.”

      Careful to avoid Spencer’s gaze, Maura crossed to the oak dining table. Setting down her glass she pulled out the nearest chair.

      “How’s the wine?” Spencer asked coming up behind her. He held the chair for her, and as she sat down she could feel his warm breath fanning the back of her neck.

      Awareness danced across her skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. It took every ounce of control to stop her hand from shaking as she reached for her wineglass.

      She sipped the Chardonnay, more to steady her nerves than to taste, and as the silky coolness slide down her throat, the tension inside her slowly began to ease.

      “Hmm.…it’s lovely. Refreshing, with a crisp fruity taste,” she said brightly.

      “I’m impressed.” Spencer placed the glass his mother had ordered next to a place setting. “And here I thought folks from Kentucky only drank bourbon.”

      “Oh…we do.” Maura heard the humor in his voice and fought to hide a grin. “And it’s the best bourbon in the world, as you know. But there are some of us who have actually been known to recognize a decent glass of wine when we taste one.”

      Spencer emitted a low rumble of laughter. The sound sent a fresh flurry of sensation chasing down her spine.

      Suddenly Elliot appeared carrying a steaming platter to the table. He flashed Maura a smile as he set down a dish of chicken breasts drowning in a creamy mushroom sauce.

      Nora followed with two serving dishes, one containing steamed potatoes, the other a variety of vegetables.

      Once they were seated and the food served, conversation drifted easily from one subject to another as they ate.

      Spencer occupied the chair directly across from Maura, and she found it both annoying and disconcerting that each time their gazes met her heart skipped a beat.

      “Did you say Michael is due home tomorrow?” The question came from Spencer, and Maura quickly shook off the feeling of fatigue slowly descending on her and, holding her breath, waited for a response.

      “I believe he gets in sometime in the afternoon,” Nora reported.

      “Where exactly was he cruising to?” Maura asked hoping to keep the subject of her father in the forefront.

      “The Caribbean,” Elliot replied. “Though I don’t recall which ports of call he was visiting.”

      “Does he travel a lot?” Maura asked, her tone light.

      “Yes. He and his wife enjoyed taking trips,” Nora answered. “We went on several vacations with them when Ruth was alive. This is the first trip he’s taken since her death.”

      “He must still miss his wife,” Maura said, cautiously careful not to sound too interested.

      “Very much,” Elliot replied.

      “I’m afraid Michael’s had more than his share of sorrow these past few years,” Nora added, darting a concerned glance at her son.

      Puzzled, Maura looked across the table at Spencer.

      “Michael also lost his daughter, Lucy, who happened to be my wife,” Spencer said. His tone was level, his voice carefully controlled.

      Maura fought not to react, but inside she was reeling. From the brief conversation earlier she’d learned her father had been married, but somehow the knowledge that he’d had another daughter, that she’d had a half sister—and that her half sister had been married to Spencer—was something of a shock.

      “Lucy was an only child.” Nora picked up the thread, effectively capturing Maura’s attention. “She and Spencer had only been married a year…” Nora came to a halt, glancing once more at her son before continuing. “Lucy died in a car accident two years ago. Ruth never really recovered from her daughter’s death.”

      Maura drew a steadying breath and met Spencer’s gaze. His eyes were shuttered, his expression unreadable. It was obvious that the pain of losing his wife still lingered, and her heart went out to him.

      “How tragic. I’m so sorry for your loss,” Maura said.

      Spencer looked away, making no reply. He reached for his water glass.

      “Lucy was a beautiful young woman,” Elliot commented, filling the silence and drawing Maura away from Spencer. “Being an only child she was spoiled and a little reckless.”

      “Lucy’s death hit us all very hard,” Nora went on. She threw her son a compassionate glance. “Ruth simply never got over it, dying a year later of a broken heart.”

      “Difficult as it’s been for Michael, we saw this trip as a sign he’s starting to come to terms with the tragedy and moving on with his life,” Elliot said.

      As Maura listened to Nora and Elliot talk about their daughter-in-law, she was both puzzled and intrigued by Spencer’s silence. He appeared to have withdrawn to some private place.

      Nora rose from the table, and started to gather up the dishes, bringing an end to the conversation.

      “Let me help,” Maura said.

      “You’ll do no such thing, at least not tonight,” Nora asserted good-naturedly. “Stay and chat with Spencer.”

      Maura’s heart skipped a beat. She would have preferred to follow her hostess and talk more about Michael Carson.

      “Coffee anyone?” Elliot asked, reappearing with carafe in hand.

      “I’ll have coffee, Dad.” Spencer pushed back his chair and crossed to the bar.

      “Yes, thank you,” Maura replied. “And the chicken was delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

      “Thank you,” Elliot responded as he began to pour coffee into cups.

      “Maura? Can I interest you in a liqueur? There’s Brandy? Cointreau? Or how about Grand Marnier?” Spencer offered.

      “No, thank you,” Maura replied. She stood up. “Actually I think I’ll pass on the coffee. It’s been a long day, I’m rather tired. I’ll just say good-night.”

      “By all means, my dear,” Elliot said.

      Maura dropped her napkin on the table and made her way from the room. She stopped for a moment in the doorway and glanced at Spencer, who was pouring himself a liqueur. She could see the tension in his shoulders and in the line of his jaw, almost as if he was gritting his teeth.

      The conversation at dinner had obviously upset him more than he was willing to show. Ever since Lucy’s name had been mentioned, she’d noticed his withdrawal and noticed, too, that the atmosphere in the room had changed from lighthearted to melancholy.

      Even now he appeared to be deep in thought, and Maura could only guess that the loss of his wife was still a raw and painful wound.

      He must have loved Lucy very much. Turning, Maura headed for the stairs, feeling a stab of envy for Lucy, the sister she’d never known.

      Maura