A Nanny in the Family Read online

  “I’m not good at keeping secrets,” Nicole said miserably. “I hate all the subterfuge.”

  “Well, you’re keeping one too many, my dear. Don’t let Louise be the one to bare it, Nicole. If you and Pierce are to find any sort of future together, romantic or otherwise, he has to hear the truth from you and it’s my guess you don’t have a lot of time in which to do it. Tell him tonight, before it’s too late.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE party went on for hours. Long after Alice had gone home and Tommy was soundly asleep, the music played, the people stayed, and Nicole’s nerves grew increasingly frazzled. Afraid that if she waited for Pierce in the library as planned, someone else might spot her resemblance to Arlene, she went instead to the southeast side of the house, to the deck outside the kitchen.

  Flinging a sweater over her shoulders to ward off the night chill, she sat at the small table where she and Janet so often enjoyed morning coffee together. The air was full of the scent of summer, of flowers and raspberries and rosemary. Out there, the music was swallowed up by the bulk of the house, no more than a pale accompaniment to the lazy whisper of the ocean creeping up the wide, deserted beach.

  She would be hard-pressed to come by a more peaceful scene and oh, her soul craved a little peace! But the jagged edges of grief which she thought had begun to heal had torn open again as a result of her conversation with Alice.

  All she could think was that she should have been sharing this tranquil moment with her sister. They should have been sitting there together, their connection something to be celebrated, not kept hidden like a shameful secret.

  Tears, of sadness, of frustration, filmed her eyes. She wanted to shake her fist at the universe and scream her disappointment. It wasn’t fair, none of it! Not the waste or the loss or the lies, and most of all not the cruelty of a child being robbed of his parents.

  A beam of light from behind startled her into swinging ’round. Pierce stood profiled in the kitchen doorway. “I saw you heading this way. Mind if I join you now instead of waiting for later? Things are winding down inside and no one’s going to miss me.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not very good company right now.”

  He caught the gleam of tears before she could blink them away. “Crying on such a beautiful night, Nicole? What’s wrong?”

  She turned away from him and watched the lacy froth of surf rolling ashore. “I was just thinking how much Tommy’s mother is missing and wishing she could have been here tonight to see how beautifully he’s growing up.”

  “Maybe she is. Who knows how wide or narrow the boundary is between life and death?”

  The observation surprised her, betraying in him a dimension of sensitivity she’d not previously suspected. “Do you believe in an afterlife, Pierce?”

  Pulling up the other chair, he sat down and tugged the knot in his tie loose. “There was a time I’d have said, no, it’s once around the merry-go-round and that’s it.” he said, undoing the top button of his shirt. “But I’m not so sure anymore. Sometimes I...” He shook his head and rubbed a weary hand over his face. “Hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say except that Tom’s father and I were very close and it’s hard to let go the connection. We grew up together, went to the same schools, belonged to the same clubs. We even dated the same girls once in a while.”

  It was hard to picture that young, carefree person. Her impressions of Pierce were too caught up in the present image of a man picking up the pieces of a life thrown into disarray and making it work despite everything. “Didn’t those girls mind being passed back and forth between you?”

  “Probably. The point I’m trying to make, though, is that Jim and I shared so much in common. Even after I joined the Navy and wasn’t around much anymore, the bond remained strong. When I was discharged, we picked up exactly where we’d left off, even though he was married by then.”

  It was a risky question but Nicole couldn’t help asking, “What was his wife like?”

  “She was a gem. Very calm and capable.” He looked up again and his next remark shot arrows of terror in Nicole’s heart. “A lot like you, in some ways.”

  “Like me?” Consternation left her voice high-pitched and foreign-sounding to her ears but Pierce appeared not to notice.

  “Uh-huh. Good with Tom. Never too busy or too tired to play with him or read to him, from what I could see—not that I ever spent that much time around her except for the last few months. But even from our limited acquaintance, it was clear that she was crazy about Jim. In some ways, it was as well they were both killed because I don’t know that either of them could have survived losing the other.”

  Nicole pressed her lips together and looked away, envying him his acceptance of a tragedy it sometimes seemed she herself would never come to terms with.

  “The weird thing is,” Pierce went on, leaning back in his chair and staring at up the stars, “I sometimes feel Jim’s presence. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.” He shook his head. “I don’t know. What about you? Do you believe in life after death?”

  “I want to,” Nicole whispered. “I want to more than just about anything. But like you, I have doubts. I do know that families can draw comfort from each other in times of loss, and that no one, especially not a child, can have too many relatives to fill the void left by a parent’s death.”

  She drew a shaky breath at the realization that, without exactly planning it, she’d brought the conversation around to give herself the perfect opening for what she knew she must tell him. Quickly, before her courage evaporated, she went on, “Pierce, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  “I’m listening,” he said encouragingly when, after getting past the initial hurdle, she lapsed into silence.

  She pressed the fingertips of her left hand to her lips and closed her eyes for a second, willing the right words to come to her. But that was to wish for a miracle because there was no way to make her lies right. They had been wrong from the first and all she’d done by allowing them to continue was compound them.

  Still, she tried. “The reason I came to Morningside—the reason I left Rochester—I told you it was that I needed a change. That wasn’t exactly true.”

  Not exactly? It had been a bare-faced lie, the first of too many! “Actually, I gave up my job...”

  When she faltered again, Pierce sat erect and swiveled around in his chair to face her. “For God’s sake, Nicole, don’t tell me you think you made a mistake in coming here and—”

  “I’m afraid I did, Pierce.”

  But he rushed on, overriding her interruption. “No! Look, I realize that looking after a healthy four-year-old must seem like a waste of your talent. Obviously, it’s not as challenging as caring for critically sick children, but Tom needs you, Nicole. If you leave us now, I don’t know how he’ll cope—another loss, so soon after the accident, it would be too much. He’ll miss you—we both will.”

  “It’s not that I want to leave,” she said.

  “What, then? Money? Is that it? Do you need extra money? Name your price—anything you want. More time off?” More agitated than she’d ever seen him, he raked at his hair. “I know you put in long hours, but I thought you wanted it that way. When I’ve suggested you visit your relatives—”

  “It’s not about money!” she cried. “You keep bringing that up as if it counts more than...than feelings. But you can’t put a price on a child’s happiness. You can’t buy love. And it’s not about time off, either. A child is an around-the-clock responsibility and the most rewarding job in the world.”

  “Then I don’t understand.” He reared back and when he spoke again, his voice was dark with sudden suspicion. “Is it me? Am I such a difficult man to live with, Nicole?”

  “It’s not about you,” she said, struggling to complete what she’d started. Her true connection to Tommy presented problems enough, without her trying to navigate the minefield of her feelings for Pierce Warner.

  “I think it is,�
� he said, confronting her with that direct stare that never failed to shame her with its candor. “I think that whatever is troubling you has everything to do with us, with you and me and what happened between us last—”

  Another shadow blocked the light still streaming from the kitchen doorway. “Pierce, sweetie, is that you hiding out there in the dark?”

  “Son of a bitch!” he cursed under his breath, yanking savagely at his tie.

  “Who’s that you’re talking to, Pierce?” Louise stepped out onto the deck and peered into the shadows. “Oh, it’s you, Miss Bennett. I didn’t realize you’d decided to put in another appearance again after your little tête-à-tête with Mrs. Holt.”

  Pierce stood up but kept his back turned on Louise. “I want to finish this,” he muttered to Nicole. “Whatever’s bothering you, let’s get it out in the open and deal with it. I’d like to think you trust me enough to be honest with me, Nicole, just as I intend to be with you. Because there’s something I want to say to you, too—but not here. We need to go someplace where we won’t be overheard or interrupted. If I arrange it, will you come away with me tomorrow—take a few hours off so we can get everything sorted out between us?”

  It was the most tempting offer of her life, except... “But who’ll look after Tommy?”

  “I’ll ask Janet. She’s mentioned often enough that she’d be glad to stand in occasionally so that you can take time for yourself.”

  “Then, yes, I’ll go with you,” Nicole breathed, capitulating without another moment’s hesitation. Because he was absolutely right; they did need some seclusion and privacy. Trying to unburden herself here, with the constant threat of interruption, was impossible. She couldn’t just spit out the bald facts and be done with them. She needed time to explain her reasons, to justify her deceit. And who knew? Perhaps, when all was said and done, he’d understand and they could start over with no secrets between them. Or better yet, perhaps they could take up where they’d left off, that night by the pool, and write a different ending.

  He closed his fingers briefly around her wrist. “Then I’ll arrange it.”

  Louise approached, stiletto heels rapping a staccato rebuke on the cedar decking. “Am I intruding on a private moment?” she inquired, the question larded with cool suspicion.

  “Not in the least.” Jaw rigid with exasperation, Pierce swung around to face her. “Are the last guests leaving finally?”

  “Oh dear, have you found the evening such a dreadful bore, sweets?”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Pierce replied, and Nicole knew, from the way his voice faded, that Louise was drawing him back toward the house, “but it’s been a long day and I’m about ready to call it quits.”

  “Then my timing’s perfect because I came to tell you the Camerons are waiting to say good night and so are the Wileys. Once they’re gone, you and I can put our feet up, enjoy a nightcap and talk. So much happened tonight, Pierce, some very strange and interesting incidents....”

  Indeed yes! And topping the list, her discovering the nanny deep in secretive conversation in her private suite with a guest who, presumably, was a complete stranger to her. Like a bloodhound on the scent, Louise had picked up on the fact that Nicole was hiding something. It was a matter of time only before she found out what.

  Tomorrow’s date with Pierce couldn’t have come at a more fortuitous time.

  It was past midnight when he turned out the last lamp and climbed the stairs. By then, Nicole’s door was closed and her room in darkness which was probably just as well. Given half a chance, he’d have been in there with her and doing his damnedest to get her into bed with him, which was hardly the best way to convince her that it was more than her body that interested him.

  The fact was, he was bewitched by her, obsessed by her. Hell, why pussyfoot around the issue; he was in love with her! And after tonight’s aborted conversation, he was terrified she was about to walk out of his life.

  He didn’t like that feeling one little bit. He wasn’t used to not being in charge—of himself and everyone else. Yet instinct told him he was, to coin a phrase, in well over his head when it came to the woman whose only role had supposedly been to fill the gaps left in Tom’s life. He’d had no idea that his own was equally full of holes, albeit it of a different kind, until tonight.

  This lovely, gentle woman had walked into his life when he most needed her and he’d been too blind to recognize it. Not someone given to complicating his life unnecessarily, he prided himself on facing reality head-on. He took for granted his intelligence, his capability, much as he took for granted that he was six foot two and had blue eyes, yet where she was concerned, he’d been about as stupid as a one-eyed drunken sailor trying to fathom which end of a gangplank led to shore.

  Ironically, it had taken a showdown with Louise to jolt him into accepting what any other fool would have recognized weeks ago, confronting his true state of mind. Admittedly, he’d been blindsided by his feelings for Nicole but, if he’d used a grain of sense, he’d have realized something serious was afoot when his sexual interest in Louise died so suddenly and irrevocably.

  Instead, he’d done what so many of his men used to do when they’d learned of a relationship going sour: refused to deal with it and hoped that it would simply go away without his having to get in the thick of things. He’d compensated for his lack of romantic interest in Louise by allowing her undue latitude in other aspects of his life which, in turn, had culminated in today’s ridiculous social charade.

  He’d hated having strangers prowling all over his house, people with whom he had only a nodding acquaintance and little in common. He’d resented her proprietary air toward him and his home; resented even more her thinly-disguised aversion to Tom which she was finding increasingly difficult to hide.

  He’d barely been able to wait for everyone to be gone, for the front door to shut behind them all, and for the household to settle back into the rhythm he’d come to love. But as if she sensed something untoward in the works, Louise had lingered, pointedly ignoring his less than subtle remarks on the late hour.

  “My feet,” she’d declared, kicking off her shoes, “are killing me. Pour me a brandy, sweetie.”

  “Why? Will it help your feet?” he hadn’t been able to resist asking.

  She’d laughed—or at least, she affected amusement. He’d begun to see that affectation was as much a part of her as her hazel eyes and long lovely legs. Take them away and there’d be only a shell left behind. A more tolerant man would have viewed that as a pity, but tonight had pushed him beyond the point of such generosity.

  “Silly!” she’d chirped. “Of course not. But it would be a lovely way to end the day, don’t you think? Just you and I alone like this?” She’d sighed and gazed around the room fondly. “I feel so at home here, Pierce. This is my kind of house.”

  “Oh?” he’d said guardedly, knowing well enough that she thought the decor too stuffy and his desk too untidy. “How so? It’s nothing like your place, which I thought was exactly what you wanted.”

  “My place is perfect for a single, career-oriented woman, but this...” She’d waved expansively. “Sweetie, this is a family home. The floor plan here is perfect, with its nursery quarters and kitchen wing quite separate from the formal elegance of the reception rooms. It’s so important, don’t you think, that children have a place where they can be themselves without being underfoot all the time?”

  “More to the point, Louise, is that I’ve come to enjoy having Tom underfoot, whereas you....”

  She’d read criticism in his remark and sprung up from her chair agitatedly. “I’m doing my best, Pierce! It’s not as if he’s really your child, after all.”

  “I’m not blaming you,” he’d said quietly. “Not everyone is cut out for parenting.” He’d shrugged, still mystified at the way the role had crept up on him and taken such a strong hold. “Heck, if you’d asked me six months ago how I felt about the idea, I’d have said ‘Not much.”’

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nbsp; “Well, there you are, then! Let’s talk about something more agreeable, such as how we’re going to spend tomorrow. The weatherman’s predicting a gorgeous day again so how about an early round of golf before it gets too hot?”

  “I’m afraid not. I’ve made other plans.”

  “And they’ll take all day?”

  “Probably.”

  “And tomorrow night? Will I see you then?”

  “No,” he said gently. “I don’t think so, Louise.”

  He’d felt like a piece of dirt at the look that crept into her eyes at that. Suddenly, she wasn’t the sharp-edged Realtor who’d negotiated the purchase of his house and supervised most of its new decor, she was merely a woman unable to hide her hurt or disappointment at having her expectations dashed.

  He’d realized then that he couldn’t allow things to drift any longer. Not only was it unfair to her, it was cowardly of him. The time had come to speak plainly. He drew in a sharp breath, searching for the best, the kindest way, to tell her.

  But something in his expression must have spoken for him because she surprised him by saying, “It’s over between us, isn’t it, Pierce? It’s been over for quite some time.”

  “Yes,” he said, meeting her gaze levelly.

  “And there’s someone else, isn’t there?”

  Oh, brother! Peacekeeping in the Persian Gulf had been a piece of cake compared to this! “Yes.”

  “The nanny.”

  Good grief, were all women clairvoyant? Could Nicole see through him as easily? Was he going to spend the rest of his life having his wife tell him his secrets before he knew them himself?

  Surprisingly, the idea didn’t dismay him the way it once would have. In fact, he found the notion rather captivating.

  “Well,” Louise said, some of her usual acerbity starching her voice again, “I guess I just got my answer.”