White Wedding. Jean Barrett
Читать онлайн книгу.
to be my specialty, but—”
“You can take care of yourself, Jack. You always have.”
“Not this time. The woman is as rapacious as a T. rex. Oh, hell, here she comes again.” He groaned aloud, much to Dan’s amusement.
Ronnie Bauer joined them at the foot of the dock, burbling, “What a delicious spot to get snowbound in!” She moved close to Jack’s side, adding far too obviously, “With the right individual, that is.”
Dan chuckled softly. “Afraid you’re out of luck on this trip. There’s no forecast of any real snow for the weekend. That’s what I’ve been assured, anyway.”
Ronnie’s scarlet mouth formed a little pout of disappointment. “Too bad, because I brought enough outfits to cover that possibility. Jack,” she pleaded, “you will help me up to the house with my luggage, won’t you? I have some of my good jewelry in one of the cases, and I’m not going to trust that to just anyone.”
Lane saw her opportunity to escape. “I wasn’t that foresighted. I have only one suitcase, and I can manage that on my own. See you at the lodge, everyone.”
Her case had been deposited with the others on the dock. She snatched it up before Jack could extricate himself from Ronnie’s latest ambush and fled up the path on the heels of an impatient Stuart Bauer.
The men had cleared the trails with snowblowers, and the ascent was gradual. Still, with a bulky suitcase to carry, Lane found the climb a challenging one. But Ronnie was right. The island was delightful with its thick forest and ledges of layered, mossy rock thrusting through the cover of snow.
She was puffing by the time she reached the crown of the bluff. Lowering her suitcase, she stopped at the edge of the woods to recover her wind. Stuart had disappeared somewhere ahead of her on a restless investigation of his own, and the others were still behind her. Lane had a moment to herself to enjoy the scene. And it was worth her appreciation.
Just below her, tucked into a spacious, open hollow at the sharp edge of the bluff, was the sprawling, two-storied lodge. Scandinavian in character, it was a pleasing combination of log and fieldstone. A jumble of chimneys, steep roofs and windowed bays made the composition even more appealing.
Her interlude ended when Jack overtook her seconds later. Dropping his burden of luggage, he confronted her. “Are you planning to avoid me the whole weekend?”
“Why are you here, Jack?” she responded tautly.
“Stand still for two minutes, and maybe I’ll tell you.”
“I don’t think I can afford that.” Seizing her suitcase, she moved on toward the lodge.
“Damn it, stop running away from me,” he called after her. “What’s wrong with you? Are you afraid to be with me?”
Lane neither paused nor turned her head when she answered him with an emphatic, unqualified “Yes!”
* * *
THE BEDROOM they had given her, like the rest of the house, was as enchanting as a Norwegian fairy tale. The folk painting known as rosemaling was expressed on cupboards and chests, even on the faces of the beams that crisscrossed the low ceiling. There was an abundance of peasant-style carving, as well. The genial trolls called tomtars were everywhere.
Then why, Lane wondered, did she persist in feeling so chilled by the setting? It had nothing to do with temperature, either, because she’d been assured that a powerful generator on the premises provided both electricity and a comfortable central heating.
When she stood by the window and examined the view, she thought she understood what was troubling her. Her room overlooked a topiary garden at the side of the house. Ranks of evergreens had been trained into the forms of mythical beasts. She found them somehow depressing. Maybe it was the season. Maybe in summer the place was more cheerful. But just now there was something about the garden...
She had started to turn away when she spotted a figure below her on the flagged terrace adjoining the garden. He was gazing at the topiary figures, and even from this angle she could see the brooding expression on his handsome face. Hale McGuire.
Should she? Lane wondered. Why not? He was alone down there, and another opportunity might not so readily present itself.
There were two vital matters she needed to discuss privately with Allison’s bridegroom. One of them concerned the secret promise that had brought her to Thunder Island. The other, as of this afternoon, was Jack Donovan.
Lane didn’t know what surprised her more—that Allison had insisted she couldn’t get married without her or that her ex-husband had turned up as Hale’s best man. It was no accident Jack was here, and his presence worried her. A close friendship between the two men seemed unlikely to her, but since Hale had chosen Jack as his best man, she would begin with him. She meant to have answers.
Chapter Two
“Gruesome things, aren’t they?” Hale fingered the cedar fronds of a unicorn as he contemplated the other topiary forms scattered around the snow-blanketed lawn. “Why would anyone want to force a plant into looking like something it’s not supposed to be?”
Lane shivered in her green parka. The air was colder now that the sun was lower in the sky. Or maybe it was the mood of the garden that was still chilling her. She could swear there was a kind of stress that lingered here. She could actually feel it.
“I guess some people find them whimsical,” she said with a little shrug.
Hale grunted. He was silent for a moment, then turned his head to consider her, as though just realizing she had joined him. “You want me for something?”
Lane regarded him in his immaculate chesterfield overcoat. He was an impressive figure, well built and with eye-catching features, but there was no animation in his expression. Maybe that was an asset to him, she thought, trying to like him. Allison had told her he was a lawyer.
“It’s about Jack Donovan,” she said, beginning with the easier of the two subjects.
Hale frowned. “What about him?”
“I suppose Allison told you we were once married. To be honest about it, it was a shock having him turn up here as your best man.”
“Sorry if that’s a problem.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” She hoped. “I guess I’m just surprised that you’re close friends.”
“Friends?” There was a cynical note in his brief laugh. “I barely know the guy.”
“Then why—”
“Allison. She wanted Donovan as my best man, said she had her reasons, and I went along with her choice.”
Somehow the revelation didn’t surprise Lane. Now that she thought about it, it made sense that Allison was responsible for Jack’s presence. Yes, well, her friend owed her an explanation.
“Anything else?” Hale asked.
Lane hesitated. Should she? No, she decided. The mission she had been entrusted with was a delicate one, much too tricky to approach when Hale was obviously in a difficult mood. Better, after all, to wait.
She hated this situation and was beginning to wonder if her promise had been a mistake. She refused to hurt Allison or risk spoiling her wedding. But the problem was ultimately unavoidable. She’d been made to clearly see that several days ago. Somehow, for the sake of everyone involved, it had to be resolved.
“No,” Lane answered reluctantly, “nothing else.”
He nodded. “Then I’ll see you later.”
Yes, she told him silently, watching him as he turned and walked off through the garden, unfortunately, you will have to see me later. And something tells me you won’t like it. Only I wonder