CHAPTER FOUR

Claire could remember the first thing anybody outside the family had ever said to her. She’d been with Megs and her sisters, and Sybil was in a baby carriage, so they all must have been quite young. Claire no longer remembered where they were, a store maybe, but a woman came up to them, and mentioned to Megs how pretty her girls were. Claire could picture Evvie and Thea, with their long blond hair, and their sweet childhood faces. They must have made a pretty sight. But then the lady bent down, stared straight at Claire and said, “But you, my dear, are a beauty.”

Claire suspected that she had realized she was beautiful before then. She could never remember a time when she didn’t feel different from her sisters, from the rest of the world. But even if she’d waited until she was three before discovering she was beautiful, she hadn’t wasted any time with doubts since then. She was beautiful the same way Nicky was charming, and she would use her beauty as Nicky used his charm, to get ahead, to get people to love her, to accomplish whatever it was she ultimately decided on. Claire knew she had options. Schoolwork came easily to her; if she wanted to use her brains, she could become an astronomer or a doctor or a writer. She was also shrewd, which she suspected was more useful than being smart. But her first and greatest gift was her beauty, and she was willing to coast on it until she knew what her final goal would be.

Claire knew she looked even better than usual that day, although she couldn’t be sure whether it was because she was in the middle of a situation full of delightful possibilities, or because Scotty had so quickly developed an interest in her. Claire liked men, and she liked having them like her. But she also liked mischief. Both became her.

“I’m going out for a while,” she said to Evvie, who emerged from her bedroom in an ancient and oversized robe. Probably a hand-me-down from Sam.

“Where are you going?” Evvie asked with a yawn.

Claire doubted Evvie cared. “Just for a walk,” she replied.

“It looks awfully cold out there,” Evvie said. “You sure you wouldn’t rather stay in?”

“If I do, Thea and I will fight,” Claire replied. “You really want that?”

“Not in the slightest,” Evvie said. “Where is Thea?”

“In the bathroom,” Claire said. “I thought I’d make a quick getaway.”

“It isn’t right for Thea to chase you out like this,” Evvie said.

“It’s fine,” Claire said. “It’ll give the two of you a chance to visit. You can say nasty things about me. Thea always enjoys that.”

“So do I,” Evvie declared, but she grinned at Claire. “Scat,” she said. “You have any money?”

“Enough,” Claire said. “I might go to a museum if I get tired of the cold.”

“You’ll be home for lunch?”

“I don’t know,” Claire said. “Certainly for supper.”

Evvie nodded. “Enjoy yourself,” she said. “I was thinking we’d visit Aunt Grace tomorrow.”

“Isn’t Sam leaving tomorrow?” Claire asked, putting on her coat.

“First thing in the morning,” Evvie said. “I figured I’d dread it less if I knew I’d be seeing Grace. That way I’d have something truly miserable to look forward to.”

Claire laughed. “Whatever works for you.”

“What works for me is two more hours’ sleep,” Evvie said. “Oh, well. Maybe I’ll kick Thea out, too, and convince Sam to take a nice long nap with me.”

“Good luck,” Claire said. She wrapped her scarf around her, tossed her hair back, and pictured how the cold New England air would put color in her cheeks. Her right glove had a hole in the thumb. Oh, well. Her thumb could stand a little color. “See you later.”

“Call if you get lost,” Evvie said.

Claire smiled. She never got lost. Thea wandered through life with no idea of where she was going, but Claire was always pointed in the right direction. Sybil used to be that way too, before the accident. Now all her powers were being used to learn to walk again, and to keep up with her schoolwork. Maybe she’d call from Oregon soon. Claire needed to hear how she was.

She walked to the grocery, and was pleased to find Scotty already there. He was waiting in a flashy new sports car, the sort that one day Claire would own. As soon as he saw her, he popped out, and opened the door for her.

“Nice car,” she said, getting in. “Yours?”

“Clark’s,” Scotty replied. “I borrowed it for the morning.”

“I wouldn’t have thought Clark was the sports car type,” Claire said. “He sent a different car to pick me up at the airport.”

“Clark’s rich enough to afford two cars,” Scotty said. “No, he has three. There’s a station wagon, too.”

Claire wondered if Clark would leave Megs’s daughters any money in his will. Probably not. Old money never wandered from its family. Schyler and Scotty were much more likely to inherit. She smiled. That would explain why Schyler and Scotty spent so much time with Clark. To remind him of his available heirs.

“We used to have two cars,” Claire said, strapping herself in. “But lately, we’re down to one.”

“I can’t picture your family poor,” Scotty said. “I only spent that one weekend with you, but there was a graciousness about the way you lived. It’s a crime that you shouldn’t still have money.”

“We get by,” Claire said. Her hands were in her pockets, so she let herself wiggle her thumb through the hole in her glove. “We’re not starving.”

“Of course not,” Scotty said. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just, you should have money. All of you. It would make your lives so much easier.”

“What makes you think I want an easy life?” Claire asked.

“You don’t want a hard one,” Scotty replied. “You’re not exactly the scrubbing-the-floor-on-her-hands-and-knees type.”

“No,” Claire said. “I’m not.”

“Clark would love to give your family money,” Scotty declared. “He told me so yesterday. He says he’d pay all of Sybil’s medical expenses if your father would let him.”

Claire shuddered at the thought of her family being even more indebted to Clark than it already was. “We don’t need charity,” she said. “We don’t even like charity.”

“That’s what I figured,” Scotty said. “I just thought I’d mention it.”

“Thank you,” Claire said. “Clark’s always making sweet meaningless offers like that. He once offered to pay for coming-out parties for all of us. He said he was sure Aunt Grace would be happy to have them at her house. Can you believe it?”

“Sure,” Scotty said. “Why not? I’ve been to a few coming-out parties, and they aren’t so bad.”

“For all I know, they’re wonderful,” Claire said. “But Evvie would rather stay in with Sam than come out with anybody else. And Thea, well, even if she believed in that sort of thing, she’d insist on Kip being her escort, and that would be a classic disaster.”

“What about you?” Scotty asked. “And Sybil?”

“There’s no guarantee Sybil will be dancing in four years,” Claire said. “Besides, she’d rather have the money than a party.”

“And you?” Scotty asked. “You’d make a beautiful debutante.”

“It’s not my style,” Claire replied. “If I’d grown up like that, then sure, I’d want a wonderful dress and I’d want to be deb of the year. I like being the best at whatever I do. But I didn’t grow up like that, and I guess I’m more Sebastian than I am Winslow. I don’t know if you can understand that.”

“What I understand is you’re smart and you’re beautiful,” Scotty said. “What I don’t understand is why I never really noticed you before. Except as Thea’s sister.”

“You were blinded with love,” Claire said. “And now the spell is wearing off.”

Scotty laughed. “You haven’t asked me where I’m taking you,” he said. “Aren’t you curious?”

“It didn’t matter to me,” Claire replied. “But you’re right. It should. Where are we going?”

“If it’s all right with you, I thought we’d go to my house,” Scotty said. “It’s empty, and it’ll be cold, but we’ll have a chance to be alone there.” He rested his hand briefly on Claire’s thigh. “If that might interest you.”

“I’d like to see your house,” Claire said. She wasn’t at all sure she’d like to see his bedroom, but there was no rush on that decision. “Where do you live? This isn’t the way to Boston.”

“We live in Concord,” Scotty replied. “My mother said it was bad enough to have to live in the Boston area, but she was damned if she’d live in Boston. Besides, my grandparents, Grandfather and Grandmother Hughes, are still alive, so we couldn’t take over their house. It’s a lot like Clark’s, a lot like your aunt Grace’s.”

“And Concord is different?” Claire asked.

“It’s a beautiful town,” Scotty replied. “We all love the time we get to spend at home.”

“Can we turn the heat on when we get there?” Claire asked.

“Sure,” Scotty said. “Or we can make our own heat.”

Men, Claire thought. So predictable. She tried to imagine Clark coming on like that, and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Scotty asked.

Claire could hear the defensiveness in his voice. She glanced at him casually and thought about who he was. Scotty had gone to an all-boy’s prep school. He attended the occasional debutante party. His brother Schyler was notorious for his success with girls. Scotty had spent two years pining after Thea, who had probably never even bothered to kiss him. No wonder he lacked subtlety.

“I was under the impression you were interested in me,” Scotty said when Claire didn’t answer. “You’ve been the one making all the moves. What’s going on? Is this some sort of game you’ve invented, just to drive Thea crazy?”

“What makes you think Thea even cares?” Claire asked.

“You mean she doesn’t?” Scotty asked.

Claire laughed to herself. “If you’re interested in me, then leave Thea out of it,” she said. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Scotty said. “And I am interested in you. But I thought it was mutual.”

“It is,” Claire replied. “I think you’re wonderful, Scotty. I always have. I told you that yesterday, and I meant it.”

“Then why were you laughing at me?” Scotty asked.

“I wasn’t,” Claire replied. “I was laughing at myself.”

“I still don’t get the joke,” Scotty said.

The car had warmed up sufficiently for Claire to take her hands out of her pockets. She removed her gloves first and tried to will the hole to mend itself. “I laughed because I’d half convinced myself you didn’t care about me,” she said. “No, that isn’t exactly it. I was convinced you still saw me as only Thea’s kid sister, the way you had when we first met two years ago.”

“Two years ago you were fourteen,” Scotty said. “How else was I supposed to see you?”

“I was afraid you still saw me as fourteen,” Claire replied. “I’m not a kid anymore, Scotty.”

“I know that,” Scotty said. “I’m not all that sure you were a kid at fourteen.”

“I was younger,” Claire said. “I’ve grown up a lot in the past two years.”

“So have I,” Scotty declared. “Enough to know love isn’t a first-sight thing.”

“It is in my family,” Claire said. “First Megs with Nicky and then Evvie with Sam. Thea with Kip, too, I suppose. They all fell in love at first sight when they were sixteen.”

“You’re sixteen now,” Scotty said. “Are you about to fall in love at first sight?”

It depends on how nice your house is, Claire thought. “I don’t know,” she replied. “I fell a little in love with you when we first met two years ago. I haven’t felt that way about any other boy since then. Sometimes I dream about you, Scotty.”

“I dreamt about you last night,” Scotty said. “Uh, it’s getting kind of hot in here. Would you mind if I opened my window?”

“I’d like the breeze,” Claire said. She could imagine what the dream had been, but she knew better than to laugh again.

Scotty pressed a button, and his window mysteriously lowered itself. Claire thought about how few things Clark had to actually do for himself. He didn’t even have to roll down his own windows.

“Our house is near Walden Pond,” Scotty declared. “You know, where Thoreau lived.”

“I know,” Claire said. “I’ve been to Concord. Megs took us once when we visited Aunt Grace. We went on a tour of Louisa May Alcott’s house. She was always Thea’s favorite.”

“I can see that,” Scotty said. “I bet Jane Austen was Evvie’s.”

“It could be,” Claire said. “Who’s your favorite?”

“For serious stuff, Melville,” Scotty replied. “For relaxation, Louis L’Amour. Who do you like best?”

“Colette,” Claire said.

Scotty laughed. “I should have known,” he declared. “You are definitely not the Louisa May Alcott type.”

“I’m not the Jane Austen type, either,” Claire said. “And I hope this won’t upset you, but I’m not the Melville type or even the Louis L’Amour.”

“I bet you’re great at l’amour,” Scotty said. “I bet you know all the rules.”

“I’m sure there are things you could teach me,” Claire replied, trying to decide if she wanted to go to bed with him. On the one hand, it would be fun, especially knowing that Thea still didn’t have any idea what was going on. And Scotty was good-looking and nice and well-to-do, an admirable combination. But if she let Scotty sleep with her, then he’d never respect her again. And while in the long run she didn’t care if Scotty respected her, for the next few days it might come in handy to have him think of her as at least a halfway decent girl.

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Scotty said. “I’m dying to get there.”

That decided it. Claire was not about to be a quick roll in the hay. “Scotty, please listen to me,” she said, and she wished she looked younger, looked more like Megs. “I don’t want you to think I’ve been misleading you.”

“About what?” Scotty asked.

“About our making love,” Claire replied. “I want you so much, but not today, not like this.”

“You mean in the car?” Scotty said. “It wouldn’t be in the car. Why do you think I’m taking you to my house?”

“That’s it,” Claire said. “I want you to be taking me there because it’s important to you, because it’s your home, not just some place that’s cheaper and more convenient than a motel.”

“I don’t like teases,” Scotty said.

Who does? Claire thought. “That’s why I’m being honest with you,” she replied. “I’ve dreamed about us being lovers. For years that’s all I’ve wanted.”

“It’s what I want, too,” Scotty said.

“No,” Claire said. “You want us to have sex. That’s only part of it.”

“You want flowers too?” Scotty said. “Boxes of candy? You want me to take you to the movies first? I didn’t think that was your style.”

It wasn’t, and Claire had to give Scotty a couple of points for perceptiveness. “I want us to know each other better,” Claire said. “That’s all. I want to see your home, see where you grew up. You have an advantage over me. You know my family, I don’t know yours. I want us to share our lives, just a little bit, before we share a bed.”

“I like the ‘just a little bit’ part,” Scotty said. “You busy tomorrow?”

“No,” Claire said. “Yes. We’re going to visit Aunt Grace. But I’ll be free in the evening.”

“Do you want me to turn around?” Scotty asked. “Take you away from bedrooms?”

“I trust you,” Claire replied. “And I would love to see your home. You made it sound so special.”

“It is,” Scotty said. “I used to love spending time there. I hated leaving it all the time.”

Claire pictured Scotty’s long lonely childhood and wished she had more time to be sympathetic to him. She’d bought a day’s reprieve, but that might not be enough. And there were things she had to get from Scotty, information if nothing else. “Did you get to spend a lot of time with your grandparents?” she asked. “I always thought it must be nice having grandparents.”

“You’re welcome to mine,” Scotty said. “My grandparents aren’t exactly the warm cuddly kind.”

“Even the legendary Sebastian?” Claire asked. “How could someone with a name like that not be perfect?”

Scotty laughed. “It’s nicer as a last name than a first one,” he said. “He has a real cruel streak. He used to make me cry sometimes with the things he said.”

“He’s still alive?” Claire asked.

Scotty nodded. “All four of my grandparents are still alive. Granny, my mother’s mother, is pretty nice. They’ll be up for a visit over New Year’s. We’ll all be together then.”

“You don’t sound like you’re looking forward to it,” Claire said. So Sebastian Prescott was going to be in town. She wondered how Evvie would react if she knew. “Isn’t the house big enough?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Scotty said. “Your family is so close. But I don’t have that much in common with mine. My mother worships Schyler, I guess because he looks like her, and my father, well, he’s cold, like his parents. I never fit in. But there were times I’d dream about being in a normal family, the kind where everybody lives together and loves each other. The normal American kind. That’s what our house looks like, a stage set for that family. Well, you’ll see what I mean. Here we are.”

They drove into a curving driveway, and Claire looked at what was a genuine mansion. The house was stately and white, and she could see even in winter how well tended the grounds were. If Claire owned a house like that, she’d never leave it.

“It’s beautiful,” she said as she and Scotty got out of Clark’s sports car. “It looks like a dream.”

“It is a dream,” Scotty said. “Be careful. The steps are icy.”

Claire held on to him as they walked to the front door. Scotty opened it, and she followed him in. “It’s wonderful,” she said. “If Thoreau had lived here, he never would have moved to Walden Pond.”

Scotty laughed. “Let me turn the heat up,” he said. “It’s an old house, so it’ll take a while to warm up. You might want to keep your coat on.”

“Thank you,” Claire said.

“For what?” Scotty asked.

“For bringing me here,” Claire replied. “And for understanding.”

“You’re worth waiting for,” Scotty said. “And you were right. We shouldn’t rush. You’re not cheap, and neither am I.”

Scotty really was nice. Claire marveled again at how foolish Thea was.

“Will you give me the tour?” she asked. “I want to see everything.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” Scotty said. He reached his hand out, and Claire took it, then moved closer and kissed him. “Sorry,” she said when they had finished. “I thought I saw some mistletoe.”

“I have a garden of it in my bedroom,” Scotty said. “Hanging trellises. It grows out of my ceiling like ivy.”

“Or mildew,” Claire replied. “I just had to kiss you then. But that’s all.”

“That’s all,” Scotty said, kissing her back. Claire was breathless by the time they finished. Maybe she was being too cautious. How cheap could it be to make love in a mansion?

“Claire,” Scotty said. “Oh, Claire. You drive me crazy.”

“I drive myself crazy,” Claire said, and she realized that was the first completely truthful thing she’d said to him. “I’m sorry, Scotty. It’s just I want everything.”

“That’s what you deserve,” he said. “All right. Let’s get this tour going while we can still think.”

Claire nodded. Scotty led the way into the living room.

“Isn’t it lovely,” he said, gesturing at the decorating-magazine perfection of the room. “As kids we were never allowed in here. My mother was afraid we’d get things dirty.”

Claire sympathized with Scotty’s mother. If she had a room that pretty, she wouldn’t let two boys anywhere near it. “Where were you allowed?” she asked.

“In the family room,” Scotty replied. “Here, I’ll show you.” He led her through a maze of rooms, each as perfect as the last until they reached a room that only by the Hugheses’ standard could be called a family room. It too was without blemish, only the TV was there, and the VCR, and a pool table, and a model train set, and an upright piano.

“You have a piano,” Claire said. They had been supposed to get one, but Sybil had gotten hurt instead.

“We have two,” Scotty replied. “The baby grand is in the music room upstairs.”

“Of course,” Claire said. She walked over to the piano, and checked out the photographs on it. There was Scotty in short pants, and standing next to him an older boy she assumed was Schyler. He was handsome, but Scotty was cuter. There were pictures of a couple she assumed were Scotty’s parents, including one of them standing with Clark. And there was a picture of Nicky, as a very young man, standing with a woman Claire didn’t recognize.

“My grandparents on their honeymoon,” Scotty said. “The legendary Sebastian, as you called him.”

Claire stared at the picture and hoped she wasn’t giving anything away with her reaction. Of course it wasn’t Nicky. The picture was at least fifty years old; she could tell that from the dress the woman was wearing.

But she had seen snapshots of Nicky on his wedding day, and the resemblance between the two men was extraordinary. And one way or another, they shared the name Sebastian.

And then Claire realized the kernel of truth Sam had tossed into his story that morning. There were no secrets about Schyler. That was a lie. But Evvie knew the name Sebastian Prescott from the summer she met Schyler, the summer she spent with Aunt Grace at Eastgate. And that meant Aunt Grace would know for sure what Claire was beginning to suspect.