Gins reputation preceded her.

Didnt that run in the family.

When she caught sight of him and Samuel T., her eyebrows arched, and for a split second, she smiled honestly, that old light returning to her eyes, the years peeling away until the three of them were who they had been before so much had happened.

If youll excuse me, Samuel T. said. Ill go see about our drinks. I think my date got lost on the trip back.

The house isnt that big.

Maybe to you and me.

As Samuel T. turned away, Gin lifted the skirting of her red gown and finished her descent. When she hit the black and white marble, she came right across to Lane, her stilettos clipping over the floor that had been laid a hundred years before. He expected to do a gentlemans hold on her as they embraced, in deference to her pinned-up hair and her jewels" but she was the one who squeezed until he felt her tremble.

I am so glad youre here, she said in a rough voice. You should have let me know.

And that was when he did the math and realized it was Amelias birthday.

He was about to say something when she pulled back and put her mask in place, her Katharine Hepburn features falling into a perfectly vacant arrangement that made his chest ache.

I need a drink, she announced. And where did Samuel T. go?

Hes not alone tonight, Gin.

As if that matters?

When she walked off with her head high and her shoulders back, he felt sorry for that poor blond stewardess. Lane didnt know who Sam- { 82 }.

uel Ts escort was, but she had certainly gotten the right read on her date: Over at the bar, shed set herself at his hip like a holstered revolver" as if she were fully aware that she was going to have to protect her turf.

At least hed have something to watch over dinner.

Your Family Reserve, sir? Mr. Lodge sends it with his highest regard.

Lane turned and smiled. Reginald Tressel had been the bartender at Easterly forever, and the African- American gentleman in his black dress coat and shined shoes was more distinguished than many of the guests, as usual.

Thank you, Reg. Lane took a squat cut- crystal glass from the sil- ver tray. Hey, thanks for calling me about Miss Aurora. Did you get my voice mail?

I did. And I knew youd want to come down.

She looks better than I thought she would.

She puts up a front. Youre not leaving anytime soon, are you?

Hey, hows Hazel doing? Lane deflected.

Shes much better, thank you. And I know that you wont go back up north until things are finished here.

Reginald gave him a smile that didnt change the grim light in those dark eyes, and then the man returned to his duties, walking through the crowd like a statesman, people greeting him as an equal.

Lane could remember when he was young people saying that Mr.

Tressel was the unofficial mayor of Charlemont, and that certainly hadnt changed.

God, he wasnt ready to lose Miss Aurora. That would be like hav- ing to sell Easterly" something he couldnt fathom in a universe that was functioning properly"

The scent of cigarette smoke made him stiffen.

There was only one person allowed to smoke in the house.

On that note, Lane went in the opposite direction.

His father had always been a smoker in the Southern tradition, which { 83 }.

was to say that even though the man had asthma, he viewed it as a patri- otic right to give yourself lung cancer" not that he was sick, or would get sick. He believed that a real man never let a lady pull in her own chair at a table, never mistreated his hunting dogs, and never, ever got sick.

Good code of conduct. The problem was, that was it. Nothing about your kids. The people who worked for you. Your role as a husband. And the Ten Commandments? Just an old list used to govern the lives of other people so that you werent inconvenienced by them shooting one another up.

It was funny. Courtesy of his father, Lane had never smoked" and not as some kind of rebellion. Growing up, he and his brothers and sis- ter had known whenever the man was coming by the smell of tobacco, and it had never been good news. Consequently, he pulled a tensed- up Pavlov whenever anybody lit up.

Probably the only thing his father had contributed to his life in a positive way. And even so, it was a backhanded benefit.

The ice in his glass sounded like chimes as he walked through the house, and he didnt know where he was going . . . until he came up to the double doors that opened into the conservatory. Even though they were shut, he caught the scent of the flowers, and he stood for a time staring through the panes of glass into the verdant, now- colorful en- clave on the other side.

Lizzie was no doubt in there, arranging the bouquets as she did every year the Thursday before Derby.

Moth to a flame and all that, he thought as he watched his hand reach out and turn the brass handle.

The sound of Greta von Schlieber speaking in that German- tinted voice almost made him turn back around. Courtesy of everything that had gone down, the woman hated him" and she was not one to hide her opinions. She was also likely to have a set of garden shears in her hands.

But the pull to Lizzie was stronger than any urge for self- preservation.

And there she was.

Even though it was past eight at night, she was sitting on a rolling stool in front of a table set with twenty- five silver bowls the size of bas- { 84 }.

ketballs. Half of them were filled with pale pink and white and cream flowers, and the others were ready to get their due, wet floral sponges waiting to anchor countless blooms.

She glanced over her shoulder, took one look at him . . . and kept on speaking without missing a beat. " tables and chairs under the tent.

Also, can you get some more preservative spray?

Greta was not so phlegmatic. Even though she was obviously on her way out, with a big, bright green Prada bag up on her shoulder, a smaller orange one in her hand, and her car keys dangling from her grip, that glare, coupled with her abrupt silence, suggested she wasnt heading off anywhere until he went back to his familys party.

Its all right, Lizzie said quietly. You can go.

Greta muttered something in German. Then went out the door into the garden, speaking under her breath.

What was she saying? he asked when they were alone.

I dont know. Probably something about a piano falling on your head.

He took a draw off the rim of his glass, sucking the cold bourbon in through his teeth. That it? I would have expected something more bloody.

I think a Steinway dropped from even a short height could do some damage.

There were half a dozen five- gallon plastic buckets around her, each stuffed with a different kind of flower, and she chose from them as if she were playing notes on a musical instrument: this one, then that one, back to the first, then the third, fourth, fifth. The result, in a short order of time, was a glorious head of petals sprouting above the highly polished silver container.

Can I help? he said.

Yes, by leaving.

Youre almost out of those. He looked around. Here, Ill bring you another bucketful"

Will you just go back to your dinner, she snapped. Youre not helping"

{ 85 }.

And youre nearly done with these, too.

He put his glass down on a table full of empty bowls and started hauling the heavy loads over.

Thank you, she muttered as he removed the empties, taking them over to the ceramic sink. You can head off now"

Im getting a divorce.

Her face showed no reaction, but her hands, those sure, strong hands, nearly dropped the rose she was drawing out of the bucket hed brought her.

Not on my account I hope, she said.

He tipped over one of the empties and sat down on its bottom, hold- ing his bourbon between his knees. Lizzie"

What do you want me to say" congratulations? She glanced at him. Or are you in the mood for more of a two- hankie, throw- myself- at- you- in- tearful- relief reaction? Because Ill tell you right now, thats the last thing youre going to get from me"

I never loved Chantal.

As if that matters? Lizzie rolled her eyes. The woman was having your child. So maybe you didnt love her, but you were clearly doing something with her.

Lizzie"

You know, that exasperated, be- reasonable tone of yours is really flipping annoying. Its like you think Im doing something wrong by not giving you a platform to talk about alllllll the ways you were a victim.

Heres what I know to be true: You came after me long and hard, and I gave in because I felt sorry about what was going on with your brother.

At the same time, you were lining up the perfect, socially acceptable beard to hide the fact that you were banging the help. Your problem came when I refused to be your shameful little secret.

Goddamn it, Lizzie" it wasnt like that"

Maybe on your side"

I have never treated you as an inferior!

Youve got to be kidding. How did you think I was going to feel when you told me you were in love with me and then I read about your { 86 }.

engagement in the society pages the next morning? She threw up her hands. Do you have any idea what that was like for me? I am a smart woman. I have my own farm that Im paying for with my own money.

Ive got a masters from Cornell. She pounded on her chest. I take care of myself. And still . . . Her eyes shot away from his. You still got me.

I didnt put that announcement out.

Well, it was a great picture of the two of you.

It was not my fault.

Bullshit! Are you trying to tell me there was a gun to your head when you married Chantal?

You wouldnt speak to me! And she was pregnant" I didnt want my kid to be born a bastard. I figured it was the only way to be a man in the situation.

Oh, you were a man, all right. That was how she ended up carrying your baby.

Lane cursed and dropped his head. God, hed wasted so much time wishing he could do things over with Lizzie" starting way before theyd gotten together, when hed been having casual sex with Chantal and had believed her when shed told him she was on the pill.

But everyone knew how that had turned out.

And the pregnancy hadnt been the only surprise Chantal had had in store for him. The second one had been even more devastating.

So can we be done here? Lizzie asked as she moved on to the next bowl. This is really none of my business.

Why didnt I stay here with her? He leaned forward. Youve got this all figured out, so why didnt I stay here with her" whyve I been gone for almost two years? And if I wanted a child with her, why didnt she get pregnant again after she lost the first one?

Lizzie shook her head and stared at him. What part of not my business are you failing to comprehend?

And that was when he went for her.

As with their first kiss in the garden, in the darkness, in the sum- mer heat, he rode an out- of- control emotion as he took her mouth, the instinct nothing that he was going to fight: One moment they were ar- { 87 }.

guing, the next hed lunged across the distance, grabbed her by the nape and was kissing her hard.

And just as before, she kissed him back.

It wasnt passion on her side, though. He was pretty damn sure that for her, the meeting of mouths was nothing but an extension of their conflict, the verbal argument going nonverbal.

Lane didnt care. Hed take her any way he could get her.

{ 88 }.