The Scent of Heather. V. J. Banis

startled.

      David laughed. “No. I’m still a bachelor.”

      “Why?” Rebecca asked boldly.

      Maggie gave her an admonishing look. “Really, Rebecca. You’re being terribly forward.” She looked at David. “You must excuse my sister, Mr. McCloud. She sometimes says things without thinking how tactless they are.”

      Again David laughed. “I don’t mind, Mrs. Garrison.” He looked at Rebecca. “I guess I just never found the right woman. I’m still looking, however.”

      “Me, too,” Rebecca said boldly.

      “I assume then that you’re divorced.”

      “We’re widows...both of us. Our husbands went out fishing together and their boat capsized. They drowned.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be,” Rebecca said, giving her hair a flip. “If George hadn’t died I would have divorced him anyway.”

      Maggie stiffened. “Rebecca,” she said with ice dripping from her tongue, “I think you’re being most disrespectful and horribly brazen. I insist you behave yourself.”

      “Oh, pooh,” Rebecca scoffed. “I’m just being truthful. I’d rather be that than a hypocrite.”

      “Come on,” David said, “I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

      From the library they went through several other rooms that were furnished as guest bedrooms, complete with their own private bathrooms. The rooms were all large and cool and airy with huge windows, tall beamed ceilings and tiled floors on which deep shag rugs were scattered. Most of the rooms had French doors that opened out onto the inner-court patio.

      “Simply charming,” Maggie said. “I adore it.”

      The other wing contained a large, impressive dining room of massive proportions, a more intimate breakfast room painted a drab green, a paneled pantry, a gigantic kitchen, a laundry room and servants’ rooms.

      Upstairs the rooms were even larger and more elegant. Maggie fell hopelessly in love with the larger bedroom at the top of the stairs.

      “It’s bigger than my entire old apartment,” Maggie said as she stepped up onto the platform that held a mammoth four-poster bed with brocade trappings. “Oh, I’ve just got to sleep here. It is absolutely beautiful.”

      “This was Heather Lambert’s bedroom, I understand,” David said. “It hasn’t been used for a few years, so please excuse the dust.”

      Maggie frowned. “But I thought you said this Sophie woman thinks her mistress is still alive. Wouldn’t Mrs. Lambert’s bedroom be her prime concern?”

      “Heather Lambert didn’t use this room after her husband disappeared. She lived almost entirely in the tower. She hardly ever came down, they say.”

      Maggie sat down and tested the bed. “Well, what do you think, Rebecca?”

      Rebecca tilted up her chin. “What do I think? Since when have you asked for my advice about anything? You’re the big sister. Everybody has to do what their big sister tells them, don’t they?” She knew she was being spiteful but she couldn’t help it. She felt she had to get back at Maggie somehow for the way she admonished her in front of David.

      Maggie chose to ignore the frost in her sister’s voice.

      “When can we move in?” she asked.

      David smiled. “Will tomorrow be soon enough?”

      “Tomorrow? Why not today?” Maggie asked.

      “I really would like Sophie to give this room a real good cleaning now that I know you’ll be sleeping here. Besides, I doubt if there are any provisions in the house. The cupboards are pretty bare, I’m afraid.”

      “Rebecca and I can take care of that in no time flat,” Maggie said. “And I’ll have this room shipshape in no time at all.”

      David opened his mouth to object but Rebecca stepped in with, “Don’t argue with her highness, Mr. McCloud. You’ll only be fighting a losing battle. Maggie always gets her own way about everything.”

      David saw the friction spark between them. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Garrison,” he said, “but moving in today would be quite impossible. There are no utilities turned on in the house as yet.”

      Maggie’s eyes widened. “No utilities? But I thought you said this Sophie person has been living here keeping the place up.”

      “That’s true enough, but I’m afraid we’re very frugal here in Pinebrook. As the manager of the place I’ve tried to keep expenses at a minimum until we had a paying tenant.”

      “I see. Well, in that case, I suppose tomorrow will have to do.”

      “Do you mean to tell me that you made the housekeeper live here without any water or electricity?” Rebecca asked.

      David looked uncomfortable. “Old Sophie’s used to it. There’s water, of course, and gas, but the electricity is off.”

      “How does she manage?” Rebecca persisted.

      “She hasn’t complained. She likes kerosene lamps, I guess. Speaking of Sophie, I should go find her and introduce her to you. She’s around somewhere.” He turned and left the room quickly.

      Maggie shook her head. “Dashing Dave seems to have a miserly streak underneath all that charm and beauty.”

      As much as Rebecca wanted to agree, she didn’t. She was still annoyed with Maggie. “This place must cost a fortune to keep up. He’s just being sensible. He’s a businessman, after all.”

      Maggie had the feeling that Rebecca was looking for an argument. She wouldn’t argue. There’d been too much of that recently. She merely shrugged, turned and walked out of the room. Rebecca hesitated for a moment, then followed her sister.

      They found David McCloud in the living room talking to a frail-looking woman in a shapeless housedress.

      “This is Sophie,” David said. He leaned close to Sophie and, as if talking to a child, said, “Sophie, this is Mrs. Garrison and this is Mrs. Shepard.”

      “How do you do,” Sophie mumbled and made a quick little curtsy. She was a woman well into her middle years but there was something about her that made her seem more “girl” than “woman.” She was frail, almost tiny, with arms like matchsticks, shoulders so bony the dress she wore seemed as if it were draping a skeleton. Her eyes were bright, but the mouth lacked personality and the face was nothing more than a blank expanse. She took refuge behind David, and stared around him at Maggie most queerly.

      “Sophie’s terribly shy, I’m afraid,” David explained, “but an excellent worker. She’ll be all right after she gets used to you and you to her.” He glanced around at the girl. “Mrs. Garrison and Mrs. Shepard will be living here, Sophie. I want you to take real good care of them. Do you understand?”

      “Living here?” Sophie mumbled. She did not seem to grasp what David had said. “Miss Heather....”

      “It’s all right,” David said quickly, cutting Sophie off. “These ladies will live here and you will work for them now.”

      Sophie’s big eyes looked up into David’s face and gave a quick little shake of her head. She gazed at Maggie, then at Rebecca. The ladies smiled indulgently. Sophie just stared at them. Then she darted out from behind David and rushed out of the room.

      “She takes some getting used to,” David said softly, “but I’m sure you will be quite satisfied with her.”

      “While I’m here,” Maggie said, starting in the direction in which Sophie had fled, “I think I’ll check the kitchen supplies and make up a shopping list. It’ll give Sophie a chance to get to know me and vice versa.”