“I do love her.” Rhys’s shoulders slumped farther. “Sometimes I think I’m the only one who does.”

“Then let’s go see her. I’m sure she wants to spend time with you.”

With a slight nod of his head, Rhys started toward the front door of the carriage house. His hand hovered over the ornate door knocker before he pulled it back. “Allison, before you meet her, I guess I need to explain about Ellie.”

“Okay,” I replied cautiously. At that moment, I didn’t know what to expect behind that door. Between what Elliot and Margaret had said, coupled with Rhys acting so mysteriously, I didn’t know if Ellie was just your typical rebellious daughter that her uptight parents were ashamed of or if there was something else—something much more serious.

“Ellie is different.”

“Different how?” I pressed.

He grimaced. “I hate even saying that about her. The truth is she’s severely autistic. She isn’t anything like Lucy.” He shook his head. “It’s a horrible thing to do, but I guess to prepare you in the best way, she’s an autistic savant, like Rain Man, except she’s nonverbal.”

My heart ached for the pain I could feel coming from Rhys. “Why don’t your parents want her coming to the party?” I questioned softly.

Rhys ran a hand over his face that wore an agonized expression. “Although my mother may head up charity campaigns for autism research, she prefers to keep Ellie out of sight. Most of the time, Ellie does fine in crowds—loud noise or music doesn’t bother her like some autistic people. She even seems to thrive on being with people, or at least she has at her group home. But my mother would never risk having Ellie at one of her parties. To her, Ellie will always be an embarrassment—like a crack in a beautiful piece of Waterford crystal. You would think after twenty-three years, she would have accepted the imperfection, but she hasn’t. During the week, Ellie lives at the Brandewine Institute, which is a group home for adults with disabilities. Basically, it’s a place where a lot of wealthy society families from Georgia and South Carolina, stick their mentally challenged adult children.”

“That’s so sad.”

“I wouldn’t stand for it if Ellie wasn’t happy there. She fits in well, and she spends hours painting.” He stared pointedly at me. “That’s where she painted your necklace. She really enjoys painting intricate details like that on small objects.”

“She truly has a gift.”

Rhys gave me a sad smile. “She’s good at so many things, but unfortunately, my parents refuse to see it. They only focus on what she can’t do, rather than what she can. She never got to be a debutante and have a coming out party, and she’ll never be in the papers for a society wedding.”

Reaching out, I once again touched his arm. “I still want to meet her.”

“Okay,” Rhys replied, with an edge of caution in his voice.

A few seconds after Rhys tapped on the brass knocker, the door flew open. A silver-haired woman with a warm, friendly smile appeared before us. “Rhys McGowan, aren’t you looking dapper this evening?” she exclaimed.

Rhys bounded forward to hug the woman. “Thank you, Trudie. I do clean up well, don’t I?”

Squeezing him tight, Trudie patted Rhys’s back. “Yes, you do. Why I almost wouldn’t have recognized you out of your ratty jeans and T-shirts.”

With a chuckle, Rhys argued, “Hey now, you act as if I look like some homeless person. I may wear that around the house, but I always dress up at the Brandewine Institute when I come to see Ellie.”

I couldn’t help raising my brows at Rhys’s admission of how he had been sneaking around the past two weeks. Truthfully, it was none of my business what he had done during the times he wasn’t with me. But it was surprising that I was just now learning about Ellie.

“Yes, that’s true. It doesn’t matter what you have on. You’d be as good-looking as any movie star, even in a potato sack.”

“Thank you, Trudie. You always flatter me.”

Trudie grinned. “I bet Ellie is going to be excited to see you again. She lights up whenever you are around.”

Rhys grimaced. “I know. I’ve been down to the Brandewine Institute every day since I’ve been back. But it isn’t enough. I’ve got to start coming home more when I’m on break, if only for Ellie’s sake.”

Patting Rhys’s arm reassuringly, Trudie replied, “In her own way, she understands. And she loves to do those camera talks with you on the computer.”

Rhys smiled. “The Skype chats.”

Trudie snapped her fingers. “That’s it.” She then turned her attention to me as if realizing for the first time Rhys wasn’t alone. “Well, who do we have here?”

“This is my friend, Allison. She’s my bandmate, Jake’s, little sister.”

A knowing look came over Trudie’s face. “I see.” When I stuck out my hand for her to shake, she drew me into her embrace instead. “It’s lovely meeting you, Allison.”

“Thank you. It’s nice meeting you, too.”

As she pulled away, she tenderly cupped my cheek as if we were lifelong acquaintances. “What a beautiful young woman you are,” she remarked.

Warmth rushed to my face at her compliments. “Thank you.”

She glanced from me to Rhys. “How fortunate you are that your bandmate has such a pretty sister.”

Rhys cleared his throat, and I could tell he was uncomfortable with the attention that Trudie was giving me. “Yes, I am. Although I’m pretty sure Jake wouldn’t appreciate me saying that.”

“Did you make the trip down with Rhys?” Trudie asked.

I shook my head wildly at her assumption. “No, no, I’m from Atlanta, but I’m here in Savannah for college at SCAD.”

“Oh, how interesting. What’s your major?”

“Fashion design.”

Glancing at my dress, she nodded. “I can see that—you have impeccable taste.”

“Thank you very much.”

After clearing his throat, Rhys asked, “Where’s Ellie?”

Trudie’s bright expression dimmed a little. “She’s at the front window. She’s been glued to watching all the catering trucks coming and going.” Trudie shook her head. “Even though she’s in her own world most of the time, she does seem to love a party.”

Rhys clenched his jaw. “I know.” After nodding to Trudie, he once again reached for my hand, and I took it. He led me through an arched doorway into a room filled with floor-to-ceiling windows. At the far end of the room, I saw Ellie—or at least her back. Each of her hands gripped the sides of the lace curtains as if they were the lifeline to keep her upright as she leaned her entire upper body into the window. Her dark hair fell just at her shoulders, and it was styled like a pageboy. With jeans and a striped shirt, she appeared as any other twenty-something. But from the way she hummed and carried herself, you could tell there was a difference.

“Ellie-Bellie-Mellie,” Rhys called, his voice vibrating with affection. The moment the words left his lips I thought of Jake’s nickname for me. Rhys had always called me the same thing, and although I hated it, I saw now that it meant something to him to call me that.

Slowly, Ellie craned her neck in Rhys’s direction. A bright smile lit up her face. With her dark hair and dark eyes, she looked so much like Rhys.

Without a word to Rhys, she hurried over to the other side of the room where a baby grand piano sat. After she eased down on the bench, Rhys grinned. “Must we play now, Ellie? I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Allison.”

She didn’t reply, nor did she look in my direction. Instead, her posture remained ramrod straight, fingers poised over the keys. “Okay, if you’re sure,” he said. Still Ellie made no gestures or noises.

I watched in amazement as Rhys crossed the room to Ellie and sat down next to the piano. Out of a case on the floor, he produced a sleek black cello. Easing it between his legs, he took the bow in one hand. Once he had everything adjusted properly, Ellie began to play. Within a few beats, Rhys chimed in with her. “Recognize it?” he questioned over the music.

Closing my eyes, I tried to put a composer or a title with it. “Beethoven?” I asked, as I opened my eyes again.

Rhys nodded. “Moonlight Sonata,” he called over the music.

“I love Beethoven. He’s the perfect classical emo composer.”

With a laugh, Rhys replied, “That is true.”

Then he focused his attention back on his instrument. He had never mentioned being able to play the cello. I suppose it made sense since in a way the bass guitar was in the same family as the cello. With rapt attention, I watched as he closed his eyes and effortlessly drew the bow across the strings with infinite precision. His left hand moved deftly across the fingerboard, and I couldn’t help but shudder a little watching the strength in those fingers.

Although sex should have been the furthest thought from my mind, there was something very erotic about watching him with his eyes closed, biting his lip in extreme concentration as he worked his fingers up and down the neck with the massive cello standing between his legs.

As I fought the urge to fan myself, Trudie came to join me at my side. “They’re very talented, aren’t they?” she asked.

“It’s amazing how well they complement each other.”

“Yes, they both were born musically gifted. Ellie learned by listening to Rhys’s early music lessons. Then one day I found her repeating what she had heard on the piano.”

“So she’s pretty much completely self-taught?”

Trudie nodded. “She doesn’t read music. She simply hears a piece and commits it to memory.”

As the duet came to a close and Trudie and I clapped wildly, Ellie made no move to get up from the piano, but Rhys seemed to anticipate her silent request. “Okay, but just one more. How about instead of the classics, we try Les Mis this time?” Rhys said. I sucked in a breath when he jerked his chin up at me and grinned. It meant so much that he had picked a musical he knew was my favorite. We’d just watched the new movie version the other day.