“Well, it’s not the boots. Clay had a favorable view of my boots.”
“Trousers,” she said on a thread of sound. “You might consider dropping off the trousers when you bring the shirts.”
“Right. The trousers.”
Lily caught the wry twist of his mouth and the even wryer twist in his tone. “You’re not offended?”
“Offended? No. Humbled, certainly. In New York I have a reputation as a natty dresser, although I make no effort at it and take no pride in it.”
She was amused. “I can see that. You as a natty dresser, I mean. Black silk evening suit with spoon-shaped coattail. White tie and vest. Top hat.”
He put out a hand as if he could ward her off, but a rueful chuckle accompanied the gesture. “Please. You have to stop.”
Far from stopping, Lily leaned forward and asked with earnest curiosity, “Do you attend the opera? I think you must attend the opera.”
He sighed. “Only when my sister is in the production and only when she is one of the featured performers. I love Artemis, but I do not share her passion for the opera.”
“Artemis Shepard? The coloratura soprano? She’s your sister?”
“One of them. I suppose I need to stop being surprised thatmembers of my family are known in what they would call parts unknown.”
“I read about her in theRocky. She was in Chicago with the opera company, and the paper sent one of their reporters to interview her. The reporter was effusive in his praise of her performance. He called it a triumph, I believe.”
“She makes quite an impression,” said Roen. “Onstage and off.”
Lily heard something in his tone that she couldn’t quite identify. “Aren’t you proud?”
“Yes. Artemis is extraordinarily talented, and she is not above regularly reminding me. I’m her brother, remember. Heryoungerbrother. I love her, but I don’t always like her. She’s Artemis James now. She keeps her maiden name for the stage. Robert James is her third husband, so you can see that remaining a Shepard is a practical choice.”
“You must find Frost Falls provincial. I don’t even know what a coloratura soprano is.”
“When no one is shooting at me, I find Frost Falls close to perfect, and coloratura is fancy singing. Lots of trilling. When I want to needle her, I tell her she warbles. She throws something at my head, I duck, and we’re good again for a couple of months.”
“Your mother and sister are vastly talented. Is that true for everyone in your family?”
“My sister Apollonia is a concert pianist who regularly tours Europe. My brother is Rand Shepard, the writer. He has eight novels published. You have one of them here. I saw it on your mantel.”
“Beckwith’s Ghost.”
“That’s it. Is it overdue at the library? Miss Fletcher told Clay that he had a book out that he needed to return.”
“It might be due, but he brought it home for me. I suppose that means I have to pay the fine.” Lily smiled a shade guiltily. “It supports the library, you know.”
Roen managed not to choke as he was swallowing his tea, but it was a narrow thing.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Mm.” He cleared his throat. “I’m good. Clay said much the same thing about the book fines.”
“Oh, I see. I’ll speak to him. I don’t want him to think that paying the fine justifies the crime.”
Roen arched an eyebrow. “The crime?”
Lily blinked. “Pardon?”
“You said you don’t want him to think that paying the fine justifies the crime. Crime seems a rather harsh characterization for overdue books.”
She had spoken carelessly, she realized, lulled into a sense of well-being by easy conversation with comfortable company. She would have to be on her guard. There were things she could never say and he could never know. It begged the disturbing question: When had Roen Shepard’s presence at her kitchen table become comfortable?
