“That’s right, Gus. Coral Winthrop, the cosmetic heiress, left him at the altar.” Scottie scooted off the couch, setting her coffee cup on a tea trolly. “I’m sorry you regret your choices, Dad, but don’t put it on me to ease your guilt. Gemma, it was really nice to meet the girl who replaced me at Rock Mill High.” Her laugh was warm and soft. “I’d love to hear more about your time in Hollywood. We’ve provided clothes for movies over the years and I love being on set. I’m good friends with the Gondas.”
“I’m sure Jeremiah Gonda doesn’t remember me.” Gemma answer was crisp but not rude. By her posture and tone, Hollywood was not a favorite topic.
“John.” Scottie offered John her hand. “It’s been a pleasure.” She kissed her father’s cheek, grabbed her shoes and bag. “Dad, I’ve a hair appointment in the morning but I’ll be in for the staff meeting.” Then she turned to John. “I meant to tell you I am really sorry about your wife. She seemed like an amazing woman. I’m sorry I never met her.”
“Thank you.” Just when he thought his report about Scottie would be a no go, she came around with surprising tenderness. “She was more than amazing.”
With that, Scottie bid them all goodnight.
“See,” Trent said as the door closed behind his daughter. “I told you she’d be more affable by dinner. And before you go, let me send you home with some pie. If not, I’ll eat the whole thing and I’m too old for that sort of indulgence.” He patted his flat abdomen and headed to the kitchen.
A few minutes later with pie slices in glass containers, John and Gemma walked down Trent’s long driveway in silence.
At the truck John opened Gemma’s door. “You made the evening so much more enjoyable. Scottie liked you.”
“More like she wanted to know the girl who usurped her reputation in high school.”
“Trent told me you were a beauty queen.”
“In a very, very small pageant. But I’m not that girl anymore.” Gemma climbed into her seat and the hem of the pink dress slid down her smooth thigh. He stared for a second, then collected himself and slid behind the wheel. Behind him, the lights of Gunner’s motor flashed through the dark.
“Scottie commanded the night, didn’t she?” Gemma said more to herself than John. “She’s pretty, well, cool. I always wanted to meet her.”
“You just saw a glimpse of Queen Catherine II only with an American accent. She looks like her, acts like her, has her fortitude. But underneath, the woman is mush. She cares about everything and everyone. If she’s like Mum at all, she’ll go home tonight and cry.”
“Now you know why neither one of them want to meet.”
Well that put a different light on things. “Of course, you’re right.” Why hadn’t he considered that as well? Bravo, Gemma.
“I have to admit, I thought you’d say more tonight, you know, be all princely and—” From the corner of his eye, he saw her spear the air with her finger. “‘You’re commanded to see the queen.’”
“It’s the twenty-first century, Gemma, not the first. We can’t make her. As for dinner, I’m an observer. I like to get to know someone before I move in.” The headlights cut through the darkness, highlighting the two-lane road. He was tired and wanted to think through the evening but he wasn’t ready to say goodnight to Gemma.
“Want my advice? And please, feel free to say no.” He glanced over at her, waiting. The question was rhetorical. “Give her time. She lived her whole life thinking her mother was dead. She was raised by Shug O’Shay, who is nothing short of a Southern hurricane. My granny served with her on a church committee and the only time I ever heard her swear was when she collided with Miss Shug.”
“Seems like solid advice. I’ll ring her for coffee later in the week. Java Jane’s. I’ve been enjoying their lattes.” Now it was his turn. “Can I askyousomething?” Gemma waited, silent. “What happened in Hollywood?”
She shifted away and stared out her window. “What makes you think something happened?”
“You changed when Scottie brought it up. When she said she wanted to hear more.” He stopped at the intersection of Ox Bottom Parkway and River Road, then continued on.
“Would you care for a cup of coffee at my place?” Gemma said. “Eat this pie? Leftover is never as good as fresh.”
“Stellar point, my friend. Besides, Buck’s on some low carb, no sugar diet. What sort of guest would I be if I stored temptation in his refrigerator?”
“Exactly. But first, turn here.” She pointed to a little convenience store sitting like a beacon of hope on a dark corner. “I’ll need to get some coffee and cream.”
Chapter Nine
Queen Catherine
Another sleepless night combined with her medication made her restless and irritable. After a week at Hadsby, she had asked Edric to take her home. The old familiar castle wasn’t proving to be as cozy and restful as she’d hoped.
Besides, she wanted to work. To get busy, take her mind off how weak she felt. After all, she was the queen.
In her office, she prepared for her meeting with Elias, the prime minister. But her feet and hands burned with a pin-sharp sensation.
The clock struck eight and Mason entered. “The prime minister, ma’am.”
