Chapter 14

 

Danny never came back for her.

Then, what had she expected after running out on him Friday night, that he would seek her out in Lunenburg? Yes, it was exactly what she had wanted him to do. That was four days ago and she hadn’t seen any sign of him. So, she had finally let Paul persuade her to go to Charlottetown on Prince Edward Island.

Elora had ended up spending the entire night with Paul. First she’d poured out her soul to him about lost loves, and then, after he’d plied her with enough wine to make her giddy, he’d diverted her with a hilarious game of Scrabble. For who could possibly play a word game with any sense of surety while tipsy? And then, as they’d both sobered up, they’d ended up talking business into the wee hours. Safe, dependable, brotherly Paul.

Apparently, when his brother had phoned quite late, in the midst of their off-the-wall Scrabble game, and had learned that Paul was entertaining a woman, Aidan had hung up in a huff. Now Aidan was missing – again. And so Elora had agreed to accompany Paul on this latest business trip in his brother’s stead.

Elora surveyed the beautiful, old mansion just outside of Charlottetown. The hanging signboard indicated that this was indeed the Red Sands Country Inn. Old-world charm radiated from the planking of its historic architecture while window boxes welcomed the senses with overflowing potted bouquets. The picturesque, rambling inn, ensconced in a wrap-around porch, boasted twenty gracious rooms, a meeting room, a piano bar, and a fine dining room in addition to a garden courtyard cafe.

Elora paid the cabdriver and ascended the wide front steps after the bellhop.

The interior of the inn was everything the exterior promised. The new, lavish, burgundy carpet complemented the rich, dark tones of the fine wood paneling, giving the old mansion a distinctive atmosphere. As the Red Sands Inn was much smaller than the Barons Hotel, it had no need of a counter for reception and in its place stood a huge antique desk. Later, Elora was to discover there was a computer as well as a fax machine discreetly tucked away in a small office directly behind the desk. The middle-aged woman sitting behind the desk welcomed her upon her arrival, efficiently checked her in, then had the bellhop escort her up to her room.

The inn had no elevators or a lift. Elora followed the bellhop up the stairs, who waited patiently for her at the first landing. Fortunately she only had to get to the first floor, and the steps were wide and shallow. She traversed them smoothly with no sign of outward exertion. She wasn’t eager to try running up any stairs anytime soon, not after her last running and leaping fiasco. The bellhop nodded politely when she caught up to him, then continued on to her room.

Elora was led to a charming bedroom with a beautiful view of rolling hills back-lit by a brilliant sunset. “Prince Edward Island,” she mused softly. “It looks like one beautiful, gigantic farm.” 

“That it is indeed, miss,” the bellhop answered. “We Islanders like to think of our tiny province as Canada’s Million Acre Farm.” He placed her suitcase on a side table and closed the door softly as he let himself out.

Elora turned away from her contemplation at the window to survey the room she was to call home for the next couple of nights. It was a lovely appointed suite. An antique wrought-iron bed, with a coverlet in shades of peach and jade, dominated the room. A beautiful writing desk and chair, also period antiques, stood near the window.

Her mother had loved to collect antiques, and she had shared that love with her mother. Even more so since Elora had inherited a house full of them.

She sighed. Unbidden, she found herself wondering about her real mother. Did she also care for antiques, or did her tastes run to more contemporary styles?

Elora pushed all thoughts of her natural mother aside and pulled out a dress to wear to dinner with Paul. The dress, she admitted, was overkill. She could well imagine Paul’s eyebrows raised in question at the sight of her in it, but she desperately needed to feel pretty. If there was a single woman in the restaurant tonight looking remotely as gorgeous as Tricia, Elora needed to know she could hold her own against that woman. She sighed as she felt the silk fabric whisper against her skin. If only Danny could somehow see her in it….

The receptionist had said that Mr. Barrington-Smith had not yet arrived, but that she would inform him of her presence upon his arrival. Elora had seen curiosity in the other woman’s eyes but had refused to enlighten her. Let her think what she would. She’d had enough of caring what other people thought of her to last a lifetime. It was time she concentrated only on what those who loved her thought about her.

Over the last several days, Elora and Paul had been working out the logistics of another one of Elora’s many suggestions, a joint venture planning to combine hotel and golf club business. Victoria Day, the last weekend of May, was only two weeks away, and she had agreed to accompany Paul to find a suitable golf and country club to host a special weekend in conjunction with another of Paul’s inns. In this case, the Red Sands on P.E.I.. Paul had initially hoped to rope Aidan in on this venture, as golfing was apparently his passion, but the elusive Aidan was nowhere to be found.

Elora immediately thought of Danny. Where was he? What would have happened between her and Danny had she not so precipitously run out on him? Had he even noticed her abrupt departure, or had he simply gone to dinner with Tricia and both sets of parents as he had planned?

She had thought to look him up, try to explain, but she had no way of learning where he lived. The phone book was filled with Smiths. And even if she did track him down, what would she say? She could hardly tell him the truth. Could she?

Elora appraised herself one last time in the mirror. The midnight blue, calf-length cocktail dress with its sharply angled hem, which hung lower on the left hand side, effectively concealed most of her legs, one in particular, while the low neckline with the plunging back assured her that most eyes wouldn’t even travel to her legs at all. And to eliminate the possibility of sheen glinting off the plastic, she wore two pairs of dark, sheer stockings suspended by a garter belt over the prosthesis. She employed several combs to pin her wild mass of hair back in a flattering style. For the first time in too long she felt beautiful. She felt ready to take on the world.

The phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Lori. Paul here. I’m sorry to catch you so late, but I just got out of a bear of a meeting. And tomorrow’s going to be just as bad. I’m afraid I can’t make it down for our planned rendezvous.”

“Things happen.”

Elora hid her disappointment. Over the past little while, she and Paul had developed such a fine rapport that she’d been looking forward to this interlude. Never mind that it was work. Work with Paul was always such fun. She enjoyed his keen, dry wit.

“I can still meet with Tom Ryan at the Fairview Golf and Country Club on Wednesday, that is if you trust me to represent you?”

“Next to my mother, you’re the only woman I trust. You’d be doing me a terrific favour.”

His trust warmed her.

“What are friends for?” Elora said. “If I’m happy with the arrangement, I’ll go ahead and set things in motion then.”

“I think I might end up offering you a partnership,” Paul said. “Or else I’ll just adopt you. You’d make a heck of a better sibling partner in the business than Aidan. I can’t believe I still can’t track him down anywhere. He’s not answering his cell, or Blackberry, or any of the other messages I’ve left for him everywhere and anywhere. My folks are really beginning to worry about him this time.”

“I’m sorry I’m to blame for being at your place the other night when he tried to call you. Had I not been there, giggly from too much wine—”

Paul cut her off. “You are not to blame. And you weren’t drinking that wine alone. We both needed to relax, and I can’t imagine why my having fun for once in my life should impact upon my brother.”

“Still, had I not been there he might have talked to you about whatever it is that’s been bothering him.” Elora wrapped the phone cord around her finger. “You said it sounded like he was having girl troubles.”

Paul let out a gusty sigh. “That guy is always having girl troubles. Women are constantly throwing themselves at his feet. That’s part of his problem. They won’t leave him alone.”

“Sounds like you’re jealous.”

“Me? Hardly.” She smiled at his snort. “No, the problem this time sounded like he was the one interested in the girl, and she was the one who dumped him. I got the distinct impression that he didn’t know how to handle such an unusual situation.”

“Give him time,” Elora suggested. “He called you once, I’m sure he’ll call you again when he’s ready.”

“I really do appreciate you, Lori,” Paul said. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Elora said. “I’ll call you later with the details.”

“Great. And I’ll just call reception and make sure you’ve got everything you need, on the house of course. If there’s anything, anything at all, you be sure to tell them. And I  gave your last name as Barrington-Smith, saying you were a relative of sorts.”

“Are you sure?” The Barrington-Smiths were one of the most prominent families in the Maritimes.

“Don’t worry,” Paul assured her. “The staff there are very discreet. You’ll be fine. Your real name would have caused a greater sensation and a different name from mine may have started a scandal, which is the last thing either of us wants. Believe me, being a relative of mine is a lot safer for you.”

After Elora hung up she stared at the phone. She shook her head. Heck, why not go from being Elora St. James, figure skating gold medalist, to Elora Barrington-Smith, wealthy hotel magnate? As if that wouldn’t cause a sensation of any kind. She sighed. She didn’t doubt that she’d somehow gone from the frying pan into the fire with such a name change. She’d have been better off with Smith. When she realized her Freudian slip, she decided she needed to get a grip on herself. The last thing she needed to do right now was daydream about Danny.

Before she fell into one of her pity parties, she decided she’d be better off trying the fare in the dining room. Should she change? She glanced at herself in the mirror and twirled. Definitely not. She grinned. Besides, she hadn’t dressed like this for Paul, it had been for herself. To prove that she could still look beautiful if she tried. On her way out, she snatched up the book she’d been reading on the plane. The absolutely worst thing when travelling, she’d found over the years, was eating alone.

“Oh well.” It’s not as if she’d never travelled, or dined, alone before. As she exited her room, she wondered for the hundredth time where Danny might be.