grunted. “You are not going to wash the dishes.”
“I’m certainly not going to leave them.” She brushed past him with her bread plate and bowl.
“We have a dishwasher.” His gaze scanned the room. He knew they had one somewhere…. Ah, he spotted it to the right of the sink.
“I’m sure Ida has already run it for the night. It won’t take me long to wash these up.” She placed the dishes in the sink and turned on the water. Her coat sleeves slid back down and she pushed them up again.
David shut the water off, and when she turned to him he placed his hands on her shoulders. “You are not going to wash dishes. You are going to bed.”
He’d expected her to comply but she surprised him by tilting her head back and narrowing her gaze. “Says who?”
The forgotten childhood taunt startled a laugh out of him. “Says me.”
They stood staring at each other a moment, and then a shy smile tugged at her lips and she moved back. “Really, I can wash up everything in no time.”
He lowered his hands. She had such slim shoulders a peculiar protectiveness stirred inside him. “You’re a guest in this house. If I let you so much as lift a finger, my mother and Ida will run me up a flagpole.”
She made a face. “I’m not exactly a guest.”
“I suggest you follow me, or you’re on your own to find the guest room.”
He headed out of the kitchen, hiding a smile when she scurried after him. Halfway across the dining room he heard her gasp and he made an abrupt about-face.
“Wow, this house is really something.”
Her gaze swept the two-story white marble foyer with the crystal chandelier his mother had found in Rome. The living room was decorated in a simple but elegant contemporary style, the real focal point the city beyond the wide expanse of glass. San Francisco twinkled like a hundred-carat diamond.
David watched the wonder light her eyes and suffered a surprising pang of envy. He remembered how excited he’d been over the architectural plans, and how he used to stand on the hill before the house was built and just stare at the city below, waiting, anticipating.
Now it seemed all he did was work. Which reminded him…he still had to get his briefcase out of the car and start in on that brief….
“Your room is right down this hall,” he said with more impatience than he’d intended.
“Sorry.” She threw one final admiring look around and then hurried after him.
The bedroom was already made up. Ida kept it in top shape for unexpected guests. He’d already put Beth’s bag on the luggage rack near the closet. The tote was so light he wondered what she had in there. Clearly she had to have more clothes stashed somewhere.
“There’s a bathroom behind the door to the left, the one on the right goes out onto a balcony. Let’s see, there are hangers and an extra blanket in the closet, bottled water over in that small fridge in the corner.”
She stood in the doorway, as if afraid to come all the way into the room.
He casually stepped back to give her space. “Can you think of anything else you might need?”
She shook her head, her eyes looking suspiciously bright again. Definitely his cue to leave.
“Okay, then, good night.” He eased between her and the door.
“David?” She touched his arm, and when he stopped, she rose on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
Her warm breath and subtle jasmine scent stirred more than friendly concern and panic surged in his chest. “No problem,” he said with unintended gruffness, and then got the hell out of her room.
“GOOD MORNING.” Ida was all smiles in a shocking pink dress and yellow apron, her curly graying hair less wild this morning. “You’re just in time. I made another fresh pot of coffee.”
Beth yawned, and covered her mouth in embarrassment. Bad enough she’d slept so late. Back on the farm she would have been up for over two hours already. “Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon?”
Ida handed her a cup. “Phooey. It’s only nine.”
Beth gave the carafe of rich brown brew a longing look. Caffeine wasn’t good for the baby. But maybe there was a period early in the pregnancy that allowed one cup. She had no idea. There was so much to learn…
“Are you gonna stare it to death or drink it?” Ida picked up the carafe and held it above Beth’s cup.
“Just half, please.”
“There’s only a measly fifty percent caffeine in this blend,” Ida said, and filled Beth’s cup to the brim. “Her Highness worries about too much of that, too.”
“Mrs. Matthews?”
Ida chuckled. “Don’t look so scandalized. I always call her that, and to her face, mind you. Have a seat.”
Beth took the same chair she’d used last night and sipped the much-appreciated coffee. She would drink only half a cup and she intended to make it last as long as possible. “How long have you known Mrs. Matthews?”
Ida sat across from her with a cup of coffee filled with cream and sugar. “Maude and I grew up together. And I suggest you call her that instead of Mrs. Matthews.” She paused and grinned at Beth’s expression. “Now, you wouldn’t be wondering how we grew up together, obviously being from different social circles, would you?”
Heat filled Beth’s cheeks. “Um, well…”
Ida laughed and waved a hand. “Don’t mind me. I never can resist that one. My mother was Maude’s parents’ housekeeper. Mom and I lived in the servants’ quarters on their estate not far from here, and since Maude and I are a year apart in age, we played together.
“Of course we went to different schools, her being a Wellington and all, but once we both got home each day, it didn’t matter a whit. When it was time for her to go away to finishing school, we both pitched fits.” Ida sighed. “It didn’t do any good. She left, and I went and got myself pregnant. Sorry mess that was, but you don’t want to hear about it, and besides, I got myself a fine son out of the bargain.”
She was wrong. Beth wanted very much to hear about Ida and how she had handled being a single woman, pregnant and then raising a child. But how did she urge her to continue without sounding nosy?
“Do you have other children?” Beth asked conversationally.
“A daughter. Later I married Ed Barnes, a sergeant in the Marines. He adopted my boy and then we had Amelia. We ended up traveling around a lot, transferring from one military base to the other. But Maude and I always kept in touch and when my Ed died five years ago, I came here to work for her and David. David Sr. had died soon after young David got out of law school. A second heart attack did him in, God rest his soul.”
Beth had wondered about David’s
