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Jackson ushered Deidre in through the kitchen, where they were met by a woman whose demeanor set Deidre immediately at ease. The older woman, Esther, reminded Deidre a little of Mrs. Phillips, though Mrs. Phillips was a tad more stern. Deidre could just imagine how Charity would have reacted to the ignominy of being led inside through a back door. Deidre’s feelings, however, were far from affronted, instead giving her a sense of familial inclusion. How many years had it been since she’d felt included?
“Esther, this is Deidre Spence,” Jackson said. “She’ll be staying for tea. Are my cousins still in the library?”
After Esther’s initial shock—something Deidre thought she should now be getting used to—she smiled and said, “That they are. Take her on in, Jackson. I’m just pulling the tray together now. Your aunt Eleanor has joined the fray.”
The manor house was a lavish mixture of old and new. From the kitchen, Jackson took her down a long hallway through to a huge foyer with a black and white checkered floor, a high chandelier, and rich mahogany woodwork. Deidre caught the excited chatter before she followed him into a turret room lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases stuffed full. The well-loved and lived-in space instantly enveloped her, from the comfortable settee and winged-back chairs surrounding a low table, to its old fashioned rugs. Over the large fireless hearth was the portrait of a formidable matriarch. The scene was straight out the Daphne du Maurier novel, Rebecca.
Deidre immediately recognized Jo and Lydia with an older woman whom she pegged as “Aunt Eleanor.” Of the other two other younger women, both seated, Ruth had to be the bespectacled one.
Jackson quickly introduced his aunt and his youngest cousin, Tevi. When he got to the next to last, he said, “And, lastly,” he said. “Ruth Knox.”
Ruth was the unequivocal opposite of Jackson’s cousins. Her hair was a nondescript brown pulled in a severe knot at her nape, her complexion was sallow and her face devoid of expression.
She gaped at Deidre.
“I see you knew my sister. We were... identical twins.” Deidre said, holding out her hand. “I wanted to thank you for the place to stay, Miss Knox. I’m so glad we have a chance to meet.”
Miss Knox couldn’t seem to answer and the silence grew awkward.
Jo intervened, “How do you take your tea, Deidre?”
“A little sugar is all, thank you.”
“I daresay, Ruth is, as are all of us, stunned at seeing you, Miss Spence.” Tevi dropped a cube of sugar in the cup, poured out the tea, and handed it to Deidre.
“It’s Mrs.,” Jackson said. “She has a daughter, Lori.”
At some point, Deidre was going to have to confess. And she was almost certain, heads would roll. Hers, in particular. “Please. Call me Deidre. Mrs. Spence is much too formal.” And false. “I imagine it is a shock. Especially since my sister is no longer with us.”
Tevi choked on her tea. “Charity is—”
“I’m afraid so,” Deidre murmured.
“I thought Lydia would have mentioned it,” Jackson said. “Hell, she dashed out of the Chronicle office like a hoyden, practically announcing it to the whole town.”
“Quit exaggerating, Jackson. It wasn’t as bad as all that.” Lydia sipped at her cup, not in the least repentant.
Deidre hid a smile behind her cup. She cleared her throat and turned to Ruth. “The reason for my stop today, Miss Knox, was to speak to you about the packing. What items you wanted me to pack for you to keep. And inquire if you wish to donate any items—”
“Toss it all, Mrs. Spence. I-I don’t want anything.” She shuddered and her fingers trembled, threatening the contents of her tea.
Deidre was momentarily stunned speechless, but a small look from Jackson stopped any other questions she had. “Of course, Miss Knox. I’m sorry for your loss. I failed to say so immediately. It was remiss of me.”
“Not at all, Mrs. Spence. Thank you.” She closed her brown eyes against her obvious pain, but silent tears dampened her lashes.
Deidre’s heart went out to her. Deidre had lost her parents years ago, and now her sister. It appeared she and Ruth Knox were much in the same boat.
At least Deidre had Lori.
~~~
Not much later, Ruth assisted Aunt Eleanor back upstairs to get some rest. Deidre rose to take her leave, but was quickly overruled by two of Jackson’s vocal cousins. He wisely kept his mouth shut. He liked looking at Deidre. And with his cousins bombarding her with attention, he could watch her at will.
“You must stay,” Tevi said, glancing at the open door. She shot Jackson a pointed look.
Rolling his eyes, he did Tevi’s silent bidding, and got up to shut it.
“Tell us everything, Deidre. What is the inside of the house like? No one knows but Ruth and she’s as tightlipped as a mob boss on trial.
Lydia snorted. “Good heavens, Tev, what kind of analogy is that?”
“Well, you have to admit, we only have our own imaginations to draw upon, since Jackson is as close-mouthed as Ruth.”
That wasn’t true. Jackson had told them the house was a normal sized, nice and neat cottage. They just chose not to believe him. He glanced at Deidre and caught the amused glint in her eye. He shrugged.
Deidre sipped at her tea. “Why has no one ever been to the cottage? It seems strange a minister would have no visitors. Especially as he was the island’s only clergy.” She frowned. “Is there another church? Perhaps I shouldn’t make such blanket statements.”
God. She was the complete opposite of Charity, who’d had no compunction about spouting off, no matter who it concerned or harmed. He couldn’t help thinking of Penelope’s hurt expression that first summer Charity had come onto the scene.
Jo poured out another round of tea for everyone. “No. There’s no other church on the island.”
Lydia’s nose wrinkled. “As far as visiting the cottage, it was just sort of an unspoken rule not to appear without an invitation, and I can’t remember that one was ever issued. I wonder why none of us ever thought about it before.”
Jackson chimed in. “No one really noticed that fact until Penelope’s death. I remember my mother visiting once. She complained for weeks afterward at Knox’s surliness, so she never made another attempt. My mother wasn’t the most forgiving person in the world.”
Jo rubbed her hands over her arms. “I never cared for Knox. Things must have been horrible for Ruth after Penelope died. She’s so quiet anyway, it must have been unbearable.”
Jackson could see Deidre wanted to say something but she held back. A flash of insight hit him. “You know, if you ladies really want to see the inside of the cottage, you could help Mrs. Spence pack it up.”
Shock covered each of his cousins’ expressions.
Deidre tapped her lips with a napkin. “I could use the help,” she said. “When my parents died, I donated their clothes. I’ll admit, I feel a little strange in boxing up Miss Knox’s sister’s things. The room looks as if no one had entered it since her death.”
“Of course, we’ll be happy to help.” Hungry journalist though she was, Lydia spoke with an unnatural demureness.
Stifling a laugh, Jackson glanced out the windows at the late afternoon sky and stood. “Shall I drive you back to the cottage, Mrs. Spence?”
She smiled at him, sending a frisson of awareness over his nerve endings. “That would be much appreciated.”
