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And they spent long, lazy hours in bed. They laughed a lot and discussed their plans for Hartmore. Genny felt relaxed and content with her life and her new husband. In her third month of pregnancy now, she was in excellent health and definitely eating for two.
Twice, they picked up Geoffrey after his school day was through. The first time, when he saw her, he let out a whoop and ran to her arms. “I’m so glad you’ve come, Aunt Genny. And you can come often, can’t you? Now that you live at Hartmore with us.”
She hugged him tight and agreed that yes, she certainly could and she definitely would.
They went to a film, the three of them. And they visited the Science Museum and ate at the Rainforest Café. He was cheerful and chatty. He said school wasn’t so bad after all. And he couldn’t wait to come home for two whole months.
Genny and Rafe returned to Hartmore late Friday afternoon. Melinda’s photo shoot was just wrapping up. The sky had clouded over with a promise of coming rain and a car waited to take the models back to London—or the train station, Genny wasn’t sure which.
The photographer and his assistant had already left, Eloise told them when they found her in the Blue Drawing Room.
“It’s all been so very exciting,” she said, and then lowered her voice to a stage whisper. “Best of all, it’s almost over.”
The three of them—Rafe, Eloise and Genny—stood at the Palladian window and watched the five tall, willowy models get into the waiting car and drive away.
Eloise explained, “Melinda will be staying the night and driving her van with all the clothes back tomorrow. She and Brooke have really hit it off. Melinda has been here every day since you two left for London. She goes back and forth between us and the village. Evidently, there’s some tension between Melinda and her family. They never wanted her to leave the village all those years ago, from what I’ve gathered. They hoped she would stay home and marry some local man. So now they’re making it up between them, Melinda and her mum and dad. I must say, I’m happy for that. Melvin and Dora are getting on in years. It’s a time of life when you want to have peace with your children.”
Rafe put his arm around Genny. She glanced up at him. He gathered her closer to his side.
Eloise shrugged and added, “Well, at least that’s the sense that I have of the situation. I can’t say for sure, though. I’m just an old woman and no one’s been terribly forthcoming with me.”
Rafe teased, “Granny, are you feeling sorry for yourself?”
“Of course not. I have my gardens and my family. Genevra belongs to us now.” The pale blue eyes twinkled. “And in December I shall have another great-grandchild to spoil. Life is just as it should be—oh, and did I mention, Fiona’s here, too? She invited herself for the photo shoot and will also be staying the night.”
* * *
Fiona.
Genny knew she’d been unrealistic to hope she’d never have to see the woman again. But where Brooke went, Fiona eventually followed. Genny sometimes wondered about Fiona’s marriage. The banker husband seemed to have a completely separate life from his horrible wife. And what about her children? Fiona seemed to have no time for the twins.
The rain was coming down, a dreary drizzle, by dinnertime. They ate in the family dining room. Brooke, Melinda and Fiona chattered away, sipping too much wine.
Genny tried not to look at Fiona. She feared if she did, her dislike would show on her face.
Melinda, on the other hand, seemed friendly in an easy, unpretentious way. She offered Genny smiles, asking her questions about her childhood in Montedoro, about how she was settling in at Hartmore. And she really did seem interested in Genny’s answers. Not once did Genny catch her looking longingly at Rafe.
Had Rafe been right, then? Had Genny made a big deal about Melinda when there’d been no need? Genny really did begin to wonder if she’d completely mistaken that glance in the Morning Room a week before.
Apparently, Genny’s pregnancy was now general knowledge. Which was fine. Good, even. It wasn’t a secret anyone could keep for all that long—and somehow, in the past few weeks, she’d moved beyond wanting it to be a secret anyway. Melinda said how happy she was for her and Rafe.
And Fiona suggested, “Enjoy yourselves while you can. Once they’re born, they’re always in your hair.”
Genny longed to reply that Fiona’s sons didn’t seem to be cramping her style one bit. But she didn’t. She only gave Fiona a nod and quickly looked away.
Then Brooke started in about the party she was giving for Geoffrey’s birthday. She’d decided to invite several children from the village. And Fiona’s twins would be attending, as well. There was talk of paintball—a child’s version, Brooke assured them, with smaller paint guns and softer ammunition, perfectly safe, totally painless—a petting zoo, a balloon act and a magician. The menu went on forever. The cake would be shaped like the main characters from Geoffrey’s favorite video game. And there would be loot bags. Big ones.
