“The Dutchman and Coco.” It worried him, because they were two of the very few people in the world he could say he loved. “You're the accountant, sugar, and you're going to tell me that adds up?”

“I'm not telling you anything,” she shot back. “Except I think they're attracted to each other. And stop calling me 'sugar.'“

“Okay, simmer down.” He looked back down at her, focused on her. “What's the matter?”

Guiltily she dropped her hand. She'd been massaging her temple again. “Nothing.”

With an impatient oath, he turned her fully to face him, looked into her eyes. “Headache, huh? Bad one?”

“No, it's- Yes,” she admitted. “Vicious.”

“You're all tensed up.” He began to knead her shoulders. “Tight as a spring.”

“Don't.”

“This is purely therapeutic.” He rubbed his thumbs in gentle circles over her collarbone. “Any pleasure either of us gets out of it is incidental. Have you always been prone to headaches?”

His fingers were strong and male and magical. It was impossible not to stretch under them. “I'm not prone to headaches.”

“Too much stress.” His hands skimmed lightly up to her temples. She closed her eyes with a sigh. “You bottle too much up, Meg. Your body makes you pay for it. Turn around, let me work on those shoulders.”

“It's not—” But the protest died away when his hands began to knead at the knots.

“Relax. Pretty night, isn't it? Moon's full, stars are out. Ever walk up on the cliffs in the moonlight, Megan?”

“No.”

“Wildflowers growing right out of the rock, the water thundering. You can imagine those ghosts Kevin's so fond of strolling hand in hand. Some people think it's a lonely place, but it's not.”

His voice and his hands were so soothing. She could almost believe there was nothing to worry about. '“There's a painting at Suzanna's of the cliffs in moonlight,” Megan offered, trying to focus on the conversation.

“Christian Bradford's work—I've seen it. He had a feel for that spot. But there's nothing like the real thing. You could walk with me there after dinner. I'll show you.”

“This isn't the time to fool around with the girl.” Colleen's voice cut through the evening air, and she stamped her cane in the doorway.

Though Megan tensed again, Nathaniel kept his hands where they were and grinned. ”Seems like a fine time to me, Miss Colleen.”

“Ha! Scoundrel.” Colleen's lips twitched. Nothing she liked better than a handsome scoundrel. “Always were. I remember you, running wild through the village. Looks like the sea made a man of you, all right. Stop fidgeting, girl. He's not going to let loose of you. If you're lucky.”

Nathaniel kissed the top of Megan's head. “She's shy.”

“Well, she'll have to get over it, won't she? Cordelia's finally going to feed us. I want you to sit with me, talk about boats.”

“ It would be a pleasure.”

“Well, come on, bring her. Lived on cruise ships half my life or more,” Colleen began. “I'll wager I've seen more of the sea than you, boy.”

“I wouldn't doubt it, ma'am.” Nathaniel kept one hand on Megan and offered Colleen his arm. “With a trail of broken hearts in your wake.”

She gave a hoot of laughter. “Damn right.”

The dining room was full of the scents of food and flowers and candle wax. The moment everyone was settled, Trenton II rose, glass in hand.

“I'd like to make a toast.” His voice was as cultured as his dinner suit. “To Cordelia, a woman of extraordinary talents and beauty.”

Glasses were clinked. From his spy hole at the crack in the doorway, Dutch snorted, scowled, then stomped back to his own kitchen.

“Trent.” C.C. leaned toward her husband, her voice low. “You know I love you.”

He thought he knew what was coming. “Yes, I do.” “And I adore your father.”

“Mmm-hmm...”

“And if he puts the moves on Aunt Coco, I'm going to have to kill him.” “Right.” Trent smiled weakly and began on the first course.

At the other end of the table, sublimely ignorant of the threat, Trenton beamed at Colleen. “What do you think of The Retreat, Miss Calhoun?”

“I dislike hotels. Never use them.”

“Aunt Colleen.” Coco fluttered her hands. “The St. James hotels are worldfamous for their luxury and taste.”

“Can't stand them,” Colleen said complacently as she spooned up soup. “What's this stuff?”

“It's lobster bisque, Aunt Colleen.”

“Needs salt,” she said, for the devil of it. “You, boy.” She jabbed a finger down the table at Kevin. “Don't slouch. You want your bones to grow crooked?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Got any ambitions?”

Kevin stared helplessly, and was relieved when his mother's hand closed over his. “I could be a sailor,” he blurted out. “I steered the Mariner. ”

“Ha!” Pleased, she picked up her wine. “Good for you. I won't tolerate any idlers in my family. Too thin. Eat your soup, such as it is.”

With a quiet moan, Coco rang for the second course.

“She never changes.” Lazily content, Lilah rocked while Bianca suckled hungrily at her breast. The nursery was quiet, the lights were low. Megan had headed for it, figuring it would be the perfect escape hatch.

“She's...” Megan searched for a diplomatic phrase. “Quite a lady.” “She's a nosy old nuisance.” Lilah laughed lightly. “But we love her.”

In the next rocker, Amanda sighed. “As soon as she hears about Fergus's book, she's going to start nagging you.”

“And badgering,” C.C. put in, cradling Ethan.

“And hounding,” Suzanna finished up as she changed Christian's diaper. “That sounds promising.”

“Don't worry.” With a laugh, Suzanna slipped Christian into his sleeper. “We're right behind you.”

“Notice,” Lilah added with a smile, “the direction is behind. ”

“About the book.” Megan flicked a finger over a dancing giraffe on a mobile. “I've made copies of several pages I thought you'd be interested in. He made a lot of notations, about business deals, personal business, purchases. At one point he inventories jewelry—Bianca's, I assume—for insurance purposes.”

“The emeralds?” Amanda's brow rose at Megan's nod. “And to think of all the hours we spent going through papers, trying to find proof that they existed.”

“There's a number of other pieces—hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth in 1913 dollars.”

“He sold nearly everything,” C.C. murmured. “We found the documents of sale. He got rid of anything that reminded him of Bianca.”

“It still hurts,” Lilah admitted. “Not the money, though God knows we could have used it. It's the loss of what was hers, what we won't be able to pass on.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Amanda rose to lay a sleeping Delia in her crib. “We're too sentimental. I suppose we all feel such a close connection with Bianca.”

“I know what you mean.” It felt odd to admit it, but Megan was compelled. “I feel it, too. I suppose from seeing the references to her in the old book, and having her portrait right there in the lobby.” A bit embarrassed, she laughed. “Sometimes, when you walk down the halls at night, it's almost as if you could sense her.”

“Of course,” Lilah said easily. “She's here.”

“Excuse me, ladies.” Nathaniel stepped inside, obviously comfortable in a nursery inhabited by babies and nursing mothers.

Lilah smiled slowly. “Well, hello, handsome. What brings you to the maternity wing?”

“Just coming to fetch my date.”

When he took Megan's arm, she drew back. “We don't have a date.”

“A walk, remember?” “I never said—”

“It's a lovely night for it.” Suzanna lifted Christian into her arms, cooed to him.

“I have to put Kevin to bed.”

She was digging in her heels, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. “I've already tucked him in.” Nathaniel propelled her toward the doors. “You put Kevin to bed?”

“Since he'd fallen asleep in my lap, it seemed the thing to do. Oh, Suzanna, Holt said the kids are ready whenever you are.”

“I'm on my way.” Suzanna waited until Megan and Nate were out of earshot before she turned to her sisters. “What do you think?”

Amanda smiled smugly. “I think it's working perfectly.”

“I have to agree.” C.C. settled Ethan comfortably in his crib. “I thought Lilah had lost her mind when she came up with the idea of getting those two together.”

Lilah yawned, sighed. “I'm never wrong.” Then her eyes lit. “I bet we can see them from the window.”

“Spy on them?” Amanda arched her brows. “Good idea,” she said, and darted to the window.

They were outlined in the moonlight that sprinkled the lawn. “You're complicating things, Nathaniel.”

“Simplifying,” he corrected. “Nothing simpler than a walk in the moonlight.”

“That's not where you expect all this to end.”

“Nope. But we're still moving at your pace, Meg.” He brought her hand to his lips, kissed it absently, when they began the climb. “I seem to have this need to be around you. It's the damnedest thing. Can't shake it. So I figure, why try? Why not just roll with it?”

“I'm not a simple woman.” She wished she could be, just for tonight, just for an hour in the starlight. “I have baggage and resentments and insecurities I didn't even realize were there until I met you. I'm not going to let myself be hurt again.”

“No one's going to hurt you.” In a subtle gesture of protection, he slipped an arm around her and looked up at the sky. “Look how big the moon is tonight. Just hanging there. You can see Venus, and the little star that dogs her. There's Orion.” He lifted her hand, tracing the sky with it as he had once traced his charts. “And the Twins. See?”