Nadine was moving away from the bar unsteadily, a new drink clutched firmly in hand. Odessa watched her depart with undisguised delight which only intensified as he approached.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, while the bartender pretended not to listen.
“Sopossessive. Do you like her, Baby Cal? You’re going to scare her with that mug. She’s such a timid little thing.”
“What did you say to her?”
“Don’t look at me like that.” She sipped her wine with fey eyes and an impish grin. “All I did was make oneeensylittle joke and she was off like a shot.”
“You were trying to run her off.”
“Wrong. I was trying to be friendly. I can’t help it if some people are determined to be miserable—” She rolled her eyes in the bartender’s direction, who he recognized belatedly as the owner of the local Blue Bar “—with or without my help.”
“Rum,” he said to Christian. “Double. Please.”
“I bet you could still catch her, if you wanted. She seems like she wants to be caught.”
Cal downed his shot, sliding a twenty across the makeshift bar top. “You promised our mother you’d be on your best behavior.”
“Ye-es,” she drew the word out slowly. “But I never specified what kind.”
“Christ.”
“I saw her go into the house,” Odessa said helpfully. “Happy hunting, Baby Cal.”
Cal slammed the shot glass down on the counter and walked off to his older sister’s delighted laughter. He didn’t think Odessa would tell his new sister-in-law about the festival beforeBen could, but on the other hand, she didn’t exactly have a horse in this race.
His mother had roped off the stairs to the second story and most of the doors had been locked. Nadine, timid as she was, was unlike to risk displeasure by wandering too deeply where she hadn’t been invited. But she wasn’t in the kitchen or the sunroom, or the portrait hall.
The library, he thought suddenly, and he felt an immediate surge of pleasure when he caught a glimpse of red amidst all of that dark flocking, proving him right. His mother had thrown open the drapes for the tour and the sun sparked on her hair, turning what had been a rather ordinary brown into a rich tapestry of reds and golds.
He came here often himself, usually at night when he couldn’t sleep. It was the perfect place to drink and clear his head as he made use of the vast collection of books that the original Caledon Cullraven had amassed as part of his cultured appurtenance.
She was leaning over to study the family books. Bound in Paris green and cloth of gold, so poisonous to the touch that prolonged contact would contract a rash, his father had had them all locked up in glass years ago. Only his key could open them, and only during the festival.
Soon, it will be Ben’s turn.
But Cal shoved those thoughts away and began his slow approach across the carpet, scarcely daring to breathe. “It’s Paris green,” he said.
She jumped and her scream sent a jolt right down to his cock. “J-Jesus—you again! You scared me.”
“I’m sorry; it’s my nature.” He stepped closer and this time, she didn’t shy away. “The cloth bindings contain arsenic—takenfrom these local mines, actually. But the books were written by our ancestor, so my father had them walled up and encased in glass.”
She looked alarmed and he hastily schooled his expression.
“They probably don’t contain a lethal dose, but if you touched them, they might give you a nasty rash.”
Her nose wrinkled. She moved away from the case as if the books might sprout teeth and bite. “Why keep them at all? Why not sell them to a collector?”
Sell them. He had to fight to keep his face composed. “History. Sentiment. Arrogance. Pick one.” Her face looked far whiter than it had earlier, which made him glance at her now-empty glass. “Are you all right? You look pale.”
“Too much to drink,” she said. “Nothing to eat.”
“Shall I take you outside and make you a plate?”
“No. Thanks. To be honest, I’m not sure I can eat any of it. I have a food allergy and Noelle got so busy, she, um. Forgot.” She looked at the floor, toeing the edge of the tasseled rug. “But I’m sure she was busy. With the, uh, wedding. They’re a lot of work, you know.”
Cal recalled his mother ordering the caterers around while jumpy to distraction. No matter how much authority he granted her in public, she always looked to him. Which made him wonder: wherewashis father? He hadn’t seen him all morning and he wasn’t at the bar.
