couldn’t keep the plaintive note out of her voice.
“Believe me, I asked the same thing when I realized what Destiny was up to with me and Mack. He was a professional football player, for heaven’s sakes, and I’d never even watched a game. At least you and Ben have art in common. On the surface you’re a much better match than Mack and I were.”
“But Destiny got it right with the two of you, didn’t she?” Kathleen concluded.
“Exactly right,” Beth admitted happily. “She was absolutely on target with Richard and Melanie, too, though they fought it just as hard as Mack and I did. My advice is to go with the flow and see what happens. Assuming you ever want to get married, maybe having a woman with Destiny’s intuition in your corner is not all bad.”
“But I’m not looking for a husband,” Kathleen protested. “Especially not an artist. I was married to one once. It did not turn out well.”
Beth’s expression turned thoughtful. “Does Destiny know about that?”
Kathleen shook her head. “I doubt it. I don’t talk about it, and I took back my maiden name after the divorce.”
“Let me think about this a minute,” Beth said, then gestured toward a door. “The powder room’s in there. I’ll wait right here to show you the way to the dining room.”
When Kathleen emerged a few minutes later, she found Beth and Melanie huddled together. They glanced up and beamed at her.
“So, here’s the way we see it,” Beth said. “Either Destiny knows about your past and figures that will make you a real challenge for Ben.”
“Or she’s made a serious miscalculation,” Melanie said, grinning. “I like that one. Just once I’d like to see her get it wrong. No offense.”
“None taken,” Kathleen said, liking these two women immensely. She had a feeling their advice was going to be invaluable if she was to evade Destiny Carlton’s snare. With any luck Ben would be equally appalled by this scheme, and the whole crazy thing would die for lack of participation by either one of them. He certainly hadn’t looked especially happy earlier.
“We’d better go in to dinner before Destiny comes looking for us,” Beth said, casting a worried look in the direction of the living room. “Destiny’s allowed her conspiracies. Ours make her nervous.”
“Why is that?” Kathleen asked.
“Because we’re on to her,” Melanie explained. “She was terrified I’d warn Beth away. Now she’s equally worried that we might gang up and help you escape her clutches. I think she anticipates that the day will come when we’ll get even with her, even though we’re happy about the outcome of her machinations.” She gave Kathleen the same sort of sympathetic look Beth had given her earlier. “We will, you know. If you need backup, just holler. We love Ben and we want to see him happy, but we also feel a certain amount of loyalty to any woman caught up in one of Destiny’s matchmaking plots. It’s a sisterhood thing.”
Kathleen listened to the offer with amusement. Now that she’d been forewarned about the lengths to which Destiny might go, she felt much more confident that she was prepared to deal with her. “Don’t worry. I think I can handle Destiny.”
The declaration drew hoots of laughter. Despite her confidence in her own willpower and strength, that laughter gave Kathleen pause. That was the voice of experience responding. Two voices, in fact.
“Maybe I’d better get your phone numbers, just in case,” she said as they walked toward the dining room where the other guests had now assembled.
In the doorway, Destiny gave them all a sharp look, then beamed at Kathleen. “Come, dear, I’ve seated you next to Ben.”
Of course she had, Kathleen thought, fighting a renewed surge of panic. She avoided glancing at Melanie or Beth, afraid of the justifiable amusement she’d likely find in their eyes now. Instead she cast a look in Ben’s direction, wondering what he thought of his aunt’s blatant machinations. He had to find them as disquieting as she did.
Oddly enough, she thought he looked surprisingly relaxed. Maybe he was confident of his own ability to resist whatever trap Destiny was setting. Or maybe he hadn’t figured out what she was up to. Doubtful, though, if he’d watched his brothers get snared one by one.
Kathleen took a closer look. He was every bit as handsome as she’d expected after seeing his brothers’ pictures in the gossip columns of the local papers. There was no mistaking the fact that he was an artist, though. There were paint daubs in a variety of colors on his old jeans, a streak of vermilion on his cheek. Kathleen couldn’t help feeling a faint flicker of admiration for a man who could be so totally unselfconscious showing up at his own dinner party at less than his best.
What a contrast that was to her own insecurities. She’d spent her entire life trying to put her best foot forward, trying to impress, trying to overcome an upbringing that had been financially privileged but beyond that had had very little to redeem it. She’d spent a lifetime hiding secrets and shame, acceding to her mother’s pleas not to rock the family boat. Art had brought beauty into her life, and she admired and respected those who could create it.
As she stepped into the dining room, her gaze shifted from Ben to the magnificent painting above the mantel. At the sight of it, she came to a sudden stop. All thoughts of Ben Carlton, Destiny’s scheming and her own past flew out of her head. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Oh, my,” she whispered.
The artist had captured the fall scene with both a brilliant use of color and a delicate touch that made it seem almost dreamlike, the way it might look in the mind’s eye when remembered weeks or months later, too perfect to be real. There was a lone deer at the edge of a brook, traces of snow on the ground with leaves of gold, red and burnished bronze falling along with the last faint snowflakes. The deer was staring straight out of the painting, as if looking directly at the artist, but its keen eyes were serene and unafraid. Kathleen imagined it had been exactly like that when the artist had come upon the scene, then made himself a part of it in a way that protected and preserved the moment.
Destiny caught her rapt gaze. “One of Ben’s. He hated it when I insisted he hang it in here where his guests could enjoy it.”
“But it’s spectacular,” Kathleen said, dismayed that it might have been hidden away if not for Destiny’s insistence. Work this amazing did belong in a gallery. “I feel as if I looked out a window and saw exactly that scene.”
Destiny smiled, her expression smug. “I just knew you would react that way. Tell my nephew that, please. He might actually believe it if it comes from you. He dismisses whatever I say. He’s convinced I’m biased about his talent.”
Excitement rippled through Kathleen. Destiny hadn’t been exaggerating about her nephew’s extraordinary gift. “There are more like this?” she asked, knowing the answer but hardly daring to hope that this was the rule, rather than the exception.
“His studio is packed to the rafters,” Destiny revealed. “He’s given a few to family and friends when we’ve begged, but for the most part, this is something he does strictly for himself.”
“I could make him rich,” Kathleen said with certainty, eager to fight to do just that. She was well-known for overcoming objections, for persuading tightfisted people to part with their money,
