Georgette smoothed a hand down the front of a robe that was a mixture of blue, red, purple, and vivid splashes of orange. “I think the style suits my artistic nature, and besides, I’ve never been good with a needle and thread. Robes are far easier to make than fitted dresses.”
A sense of unease tickled the back of Eunice’s neck. “Why would you make your own clothing?”
Georgette shrugged. “Funds are limited for me, my dear, andmaking my own clothing is preferable over going naked, although there is a case to be made that strolling around naked could be quite pleasant if it’s an overly warm day.”
“And here’s where I remove myself to a safe distance to allow the two of you some privacy,” Arthur said as he all but sprinted away, not stopping until he was underneath a large maple tree with vibrant red leaves, one that was well away from her mother.
Eunice fought a grin. “I see you still have a propensity for saying whatever pops to mind.”
“I probably should have resisted the wordnaked, but it’s always amusing to see what a gentleman will do when faced with the unexpected. Your gentleman chose to flee, which was probably a wise choice on his part.”
“He’s not my gentleman.”
“So you keep saying, but wherever did you meet him? Was it while you were on your extended European tour?”
“How did you know about my tour?”
Georgette shrugged. “I sent a telegram to Uncle Raymond inquiring about you. It must have been seven years or so ago. Well, I actually sent the telegram to Aunt Hazel, wanting to circumvent Father, but Uncle Raymond was the one to reply to it. He told me you were taking an extended tour of Europe and weren’t expected home for the foreseeable future.”
“What else did Uncle Raymond tell you?”
“Nothing of any consequence. It was a telegram, which doesn’t allow for an excess of words. I sent him a return telegram, telling him he could find me in New York if he ever needed to contact me. I assumed he’d pass that information on to you once you returned. Since I never heard from you, I concluded you didn’t want to talk to me.”
“Did Uncle Raymond mention anything about Grandfather?”
“No, but I wouldn’t have expected him to. It’s not as if the family wasn’t well aware of the relationship I didn’t enjoy with Father. Uncle Raymond obviously knew I wasn’t fishing about for an update, so didn’t give me one.”
“That’s too bad.”
Georgette quirked a brow. “Should I take that to mean Father’s dead?”
Eunice quirked a brow right back at her. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so blunt about the matter, but yes, I’m afraid he is. He died years ago. Uncle Raymond should have let you know that, no matter if he thought you wanted an update or not.”
“It’s not as if I didn’t have an inkling he might be gone by now, Sunshine. He was elderly, after all, and in all honesty, I’ve even said a few prayers for his soul every now and again when I attend church.” She frowned. “Was his death a result of a heart ailment? I always said his temper was going to see his heart give out in the end.”
“It wasn’t his heart.”
“An accident?”
“He was murdered.”
Georgette’s eyes widened the slightest bit. “Murdered? Good heavens, that’s rather troubling, although... I can’t claim to be surprised, given how many people despised him. Who was behind the dastardly deed?”
Before Eunice could respond, a shriek sounded behind her, followed by the sight of Judith plummeting to the ground. Ivan dropped down beside her a second later, lending Judith assistance as she got unsteadily to her feet.
“May I assume these are the companions we’ve been waiting on?” Georgette asked, her hand hovering over her pistol.
“They are, so don’t shoot them,” Eunice said. “This is Miss Judith Donovan, who is an admirer of your paintings, and you already know Ivan.”
Georgette beamed a smile Judith’s way. “How delightful to learn you enjoy my work. I’m Eunice’s mother, Georgette Howland.”
Judith opened her mouth, but all that came out was a bit of a squeak, suggesting she’d been struck all but mute over finding herself face to face with a woman she considered an artistic icon.
Georgette didn’t seem to notice the unusual reaction, because she’d turned her attention to Ivan. “Ah, Ivan. Why am I not surprised to find you’re still in the company of my daughter.” She frowned. “Did you know your cheek is bleeding, dear? You’ve got a trail of blood running down it, and I’m afraid it’s soon to stain your jacket.”
Ivan fished a handkerchief out of his pocket, dashed it over a cheek that was, indeed, bleeding, and narrowed his eyes on Georgette. “I wouldn’t be bleeding all over the place if I’d not been forced to scale your hedge. We’re fortunate none of us suffered more than a few scratches, but with that out of the way, allow me to say that you’re looking well, Mrs. Holbrooke. The years away from Montana seem to have agreed with you, although I fear I must point out that those years took a toll on your daughter.”
Georgette frowned. “I wouldn’t think wandering around Europe would have been taxing on either of you.”
