the fact she was a farm girl from Kansas.
The house up close was even more impressive than from a distance. The rusty sandstone monolith came into view as they rounded the last corner and drove onto the circular drive, and it literally took Lucy’s breath away. The high, peaked roof was gray slate, and there were so many gables and turrets and cupolas and multipaned windows that Lucy’s head spun.
“Wow.”
Bryan laughed. “I loved this place growing up. Always so full of activity, laughing, fighting. Granddad has talked about downsizing now that it’s just the two of them most of the time, but I doubt they’ll ever do it. Gram loves this place too much. She says the grounds remind her of Ireland.”
Other cars had already arrived. Bryan parked and came around to open Lucy’s door, but she was already out of the car by the time he arrived. Again he offered her his arm. “Remember, we’re smitten.”
As if she had to struggle too hard. They walked up the brick stairs to the porch. Not standing on ceremony, Bryan opened the door and ushered her inside a marble foyer with a crystal chandelier twenty people could have swung from. Straight ahead was a formal living room; to the right, Lucy glimpsed a dining room with a massive table already set with linens, china, crystal.
Despite the luxury, the house exuded a welcoming warmth. Elegant and understated, the decor didn’t scream professional decorator. Instead Lucy was willing to bet the lady of the house had decorated it herself. There were family photos and knickknacks everywhere, arranged in attractive groupings. The furniture, while upholstered in stylish colors, appeared to have been chosen for comfort and sturdiness.
A group was already seated in the living room, and the murmured conversation stopped the moment Bryan and Lucy entered. They all looked expectantly at the newcomers.
“Bryan.” A handsome man in his forties bounded up and approached Bryan with a hearty handshake. He looked too young to be Bryan’s father, but with the physical likeness between the two men, they couldn’t be anything but father and son.
He focused on Lucy. “And you must be Lindsay. I’m Daniel Elliott, Bryan’s father.”
They shook hands. “I guessed as much.”
“Everyone,” Bryan said, “this is Lindsay Morgan. I would appreciate it if you didn’t scare her to death. Remember, the Elliotts en masse can be a trifle intimidating.”
Lucy was introduced to each Elliott in turn. His brother, Cullen, was easy to remember, because he looked enough like Bryan to be a twin. Cullen’s wife, Misty, was also memorable, mostly because she was close to six feet tall, pregnant and amazingly gorgeous.
Scarlet she knew, of course, but now she met her fiancé, John Harlan, an ad exec. And Scarlet’s twin sister, Summer, who was a carbon copy, if a tad less flamboyant. Summer’s fiancé, Zeke Woodlow, made a definite impression. Who could forget him? He was a rock star, and a golden god of a man even when he wasn’t assuming his stage persona. He and Summer were on a break from touring, Summer explained, while she and her twin planned their double wedding.
But after a while, the names and faces began to blur. Trying to remember her cover story and commit names to memory proved too much for Lucy’s little brain. It wouldn’t matter in the long run, she told herself. In a matter of weeks she would be gone, hardly a blip on the collective memory of the Elliott clan.
But it did matter. She wanted the Elliotts to like her. She wanted to be a positive reflection on Bryan.
Finally Bryan’s grandparents appeared. Lucy had never met a more intimidating man than Patrick Elliott. Though well into his seventies, he was still strong and vital, and it was clear his word was law around here.
“So you’re the new girlfriend,” he said, giving her a once-over as if she were a horse he’d bought at auction.
Bryan made polite introductions, but Patrick didn’t do anything so modern as shake Lucy’s hand. He nodded brusquely.
“Don’t mind him,” said Maeve, Bryan’s grandmother. She was a petite woman and still a beauty. Her mostly white hair, piled up on her head in an elegant upsweep, carried traces of auburn, and her nose bore a sprinkling of pale freckles. Her green eyes were sharp as a bird’s and missed nothing. “He’s a gruff old goat, but deep down he’s a charmer. Welcome to The Tides, Lindsay.”
Maeve grasped both Lucy’s hands and squeezed them, and Lucy instantly fell in love with the woman. She was just adorable.
Though Lucy quickly ceased to be the center of attention, she could sense the Elliotts watching her at various times. When others arrived—Bryan’s uncle Shane and his cousin Teagan and Teagan’s fiancée, Renee—conversations broke into small groups, and the talk focused on the magazines. Which was only natural, since almost all of them worked for EPH.
Even an outsider could see the tensions. Those who worked for the same magazine flocked together, sometimes with heads bent low. Sometimes voices were raised, then boisterous laughter would break out, a spontaneous hug here and there.
Lucy wasn’t used to any family showing their feelings so freely. In the home where she’d grown up, she’d been taught to keep emotions in check. Voices were never raised, laughter seldom heard. And hugging? Forget it.
No wonder Lucy had rebelled so far in the other direction, allowing her life to get about as messy as one could get.
“Let me refill that wine, Lindsay,” Daniel said. “Which one were you drinking?”
“Uh, red?”
“Burgundy? Or was it the pinot noir?”
Lucy felt sure she should know the difference, but she didn’t. Her parents hadn’t allowed alcohol in their house, and In Tight had leaned toward beer and the hard stuff.
At her clueless expression, Daniel took her elbow and led her to the bar, where several bottles were lined up. “This is the burgundy,” he said, “a particularly nice one from Australia. The pinot noir is a Chilean variety. Dry, but with a hint of floral and oak.” He smiled at her. “Pretend you’re interested in my boring dissertation on wine, okay? Make me look good.”
Lucy laughed. “I am interested. I just don’t know much about wine. I think I drank from the bottle with the green label.”
He picked up the bottle and refilled her glass. “Actually, I have an ulterior motive in cutting you out from the herd. I wanted to have a private word with you.”
Uh-oh, here it comes, Lucy thought, tamping down her panic. Bryan’s father had picked up on something out of kilter. She’d blown it.
“I’m very worried about Bryan. He’s been traveling so much lately. And when he showed up for his brother’s wedding here in May, he had a split lip and a limp. He claimed he was in a car accident, but his car didn’t have a scratch on it.”
This was all news to Lucy. She looked up at him blankly.
“You mean, you don’t know?”
“We haven’t been dating for long,” she said, her voice shaking with nerves. “It’s been a real whirlwind. I still have so much to learn about Bryan. He hasn’t mentioned any car accident.” All of which was true.
“I
