No Less Than a Lifetime Page 4

  Still, as one day became the next, Faith couldn’t help thinking that perhaps she’d been hasty in giving up on Price. It began to seem to her as if every time they spoke he wanted to prolong the conversation. If she entered the morning room when he was there, he’d insist she sit down, have a cup of coffee and tell him how her day was going. Or he’d wander into the butler’s pantry while she was arranging the vases of fresh flowers that she kept in all the major rooms of the house. He’d pull out a chair and sit down. He’d laugh and roll his eyes as he talked about his mother, who seemed to become more and more temperamental as the night of her big watercolor show approached.

  They saw three more groups of applicants, on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday of the second week after Faith had given her notice. Each and every applicant was found wanting, for reasons only -a Montgomery could have dreamed up.

  By then, Faith had exhausted all the possibilities at several Bay Area domestic employment agencies. She really was running out of prospective housekeepers to parade before her finicky employers. And she wasn’t even sure she cared.

  Thursday, Price once again sat with her for a while after his parents retreated to their rooms. They talked about Parker, who had been living the life of a recluse for the past two years.

  Parker Montgomery was a very talented young man, who’d played the piano like a virtuoso from around the age of seven. After high school, he’d been accepted at Juilliard. But then something had gone wrong. He’d flunked out in the first year there. Then he’d decided to volunteer for active military duty. But since he’d been born missing two toes on his right foot, he’d been classified 4-F. Depressed, he’d taken to hitchhiking around the country. Unfortunately, after a few months on the road, he’d been beaten and robbed by an unknown assailant and ended up in a coma for two weeks.

  Though Parker had eventually recovered physically, it seemed as if the light had gone out inside him. Price had hired the finest psychiatrists to try to get through to him. But Parker wouldn’t talk to any of them. He’d taken over the tiny, dark room on the third floor, with its minuscule bath, and he’d never once ventured down to the music room, where the grand piano waited in silence for his loving touch.

  Price asked, “Does he seem any better to you?”

  Faith sighed. “I don’t know. Sometimes it seems as if he’s not quite as withdrawn as he used to be. But maybe that’s only wishful thinking on my part.”

  “Mother says she told him that you’re leaving.”

  “Yes. He said he’d be sorry to see me go.”

  “And that’s all?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “It sounds like he took it well.”

  “I think so.”

  From his cage, Sir Winston crowed out something rude.

  Faith and Price both turned toward the sound, then smiled at each other.

  “Has my father told you about his latest invention?” Price asked.

  “The one that’s got something to do with the jar industry?”

  “That’s it.”

  “No, he hasn’t said much about it.”

  “Consider yourself lucky.”

  “I like to hear about your father’s inventions.”

  “You don’t want to hear about this one.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Tell me.”

  “Well, all right. But remember, you asked for it.” Price leaned a little closer, and pitched his voice low, as if imparting state secrets. “He’s calling it the Lid-No-More. It’s a small tube with a bulb on one end. You stick the tube end under the lip of a jar and then depress the bulb at the other end.”

  “And then?”

  “There’s a surge of air that breaks the seal so that the lid screws right off.” He shifted away from her and glanced at the ceiling fan overhead, as if seeking help from above. “Dad wants me to patent the thing immediately, before someone else beats us to it.”

  “So why do you seem so reluctant?”

  Price leaned close again, causing her pulse to accelerate deliciously. “Faith. Have you got any idea how many devices there are already for screwing the lids off jars?”

  She wrinkled her nose at him. “Lots?”

  He nodded. “More than lots.”

  “So you’re saying this won’t be a big money-maker.”

  “Right.”

  She shrugged. “Well, in a week Regis will be working on something else. The Lid-No-More will be nothing but a vague memory to him.”

  “It’s what I’m counting on, believe me.”

  A moment later, Price said he was hungry. They wandered into the kitchen to pester Balthazar, who threatened them with a rolling pin and then gave in and let them sample his latest masterpiece, a puff pastry with some sort of spicy meat filling that was so delicious both Faith and Price begged for seconds.

  Soon after they’d eaten their fill, Price’s phone rang. He had to return to the library.

  Faith went upstairs to get her coat and purse. She had errands to run. Wearing a wide, silly grin, she strolled out to the three-car garage, a hundred yards up a ramplike drive from the house. The garage sat on a flat space that had been scooped out of the hillside and terraced with natural stone, in the same manner as the plot on which the house itself sat.

  Faith climbed into her efficient little Isuzu Trooper, which Price allowed her to park between his Jaguar and Ariel’s Range Rover. She started up her car and backed out, thinking that life was wonderful. Humming a little tune to herself, she drove down the twisting, narrow streets on her way to Caledonia Street, where all the locals shopped.

  A misty rain was falling when she finally found a parking space. She put her money in the meter and marched off down the sidewalk, getting wet and not caring in the least. Nothing could bother her today, because she really was starting to believe that Price had noticed her at last. She could see that she was becoming more to him than just the trusted employee who made his house a pleasant place to live. He was starting to see her as a person in her own right.

  It took her a little longer than she’d expected to visit the deli and the cleaners, the art-supply store, the hardware store and the record store where Parker had asked her to pick up a couple of CDs he wanted. Each time she emerged from a shop with a purchase, she ran to the Trooper to stow it safely inside. But she forgot to watch the meter, and the time got away from her. When she returned to her car for the last time, she found that the meter had run out and a soggy slip of paper was stuck under the windshield wiper. But even a parking ticket couldn’t put a damper on her good mood. She slid back behind the wheel, dripping-wet and grinning.

  For the rest of that day and the next, Faith walked around with her feet several inches above the inlaid floors. She found herself thinking that Chuck Swan could probably handle things at the motel indefinitely, until the right applicant to fill her shoes at Montgomery House finally came along. Which might take a long, long time. Who could tell about something like that? And, really, what was her hurry? She had a wonderful job here. She loved the Montgomerys.

  And she’d waited so long for Price to pay her a little attention. And now he was. Why should she be in such a rush to get away from him?

  The next evening was Friday, the night of Ariel’s big watercolor show. Price drove his parents to the event. They left a little before eight, all three of them looking splendid in full evening dress.

  Faith went up to her rooms shortly after they departed, feeling just a tiny bit like Cinderella—not invited to the ball. But then she laughed at herself. She and Price were growing closer. That was enough for her right now.

  She called Chuck Swan in North Magdalene, and he told her that a section of the roof had sprung a few leaks. But she wasn’t to worry, he had some experience as a roofer. He’d patch things up just fine, as soon as the weather cleared for a day or two.

  Next, she called her sister, Evie. Evie asked how things were going and how soon she’d be ready to move. Evie’s hu
sband, Erik, would bring an able-bodied cousin or two, and a couple of pickups, and haul all of her personal belongings to her new home.

  Faith answered vaguely. “I have a lot to tie up here, Evie. I’m working at it, I really am.”

  With her natural intuitiveness, Evie sensed what was really going on. “Has something happened, then? Between you and Price?”

  Evie knew about Faith’s hopeless love for Price, of course. Perhaps Faith’s sensitive younger sister had always known. But Faith had actually confided in her sister last spring, during one of Faith’s frequent visits to North Magdalene. At the time, Faith had been sure that Price would never look twice at her. So she’d told Evie that she really thought she had to start a new kind of life. Evie had urged her to try North Magdalene. And Faith had said yes, she’d been thinking of doing just that.

  “Faith,” Evie asked softly, “what’s going on?”

  Faith longed to tell all. But this thing between herself and Price was so fragile and new. It seemed too soon to talk about it.

  “Nothing’s going on,” she lied. “Really. It’s just…turned out to be a longer process than I anticipated.”

  “What has?”

  “Finding my replacement.”

  “You’re all right, then?”

  “Oh, yes.” She allowed just a little of her excitement to vibrate in her voice. “Never better.”

  “Well, you certainly sound fine.”

  “I am. I truly am.”

  When she was through on the phone, Faith watched television for a while, then climbed into bed with a big, juicy romance. She fell asleep smiling, and dreamed of Price, bending close to her, devotion in his eyes.

  A bleating sound awakened her. Price’s adoring image began to fade. The sound came again. Faith’s foggy mind identified it: a ringing phone. Faith forced her eyes open and saw that the red light was blinking on the house line.

  She punched the button and picked up the phone. “This is Faith.”

  “Dear, I’m so sorry to wake you.” It was Ariel, her voice charged and buoyant. The show must have been a success.

  Faith squinted at her bedside clock: a little after 1:00 a.m.

  “Faith? Are you still there?”

  “Urn. Yes. How did it go?”

  “Wonderful. It was wonderful. They said such lovely things about me.”

  Faith rolled over and smiled sleepily into the darkness. “Such as?”

  “Well, that I’ve redefined the form.”

  “And they’re right. You have.”

  “Several of the pieces have already been sold.”

  “Great.”

  “I’m so excited. Giddy. Foolish. We all came home for a nice little drink…“

  Faith yawned and sat up. “All right. What can’t you find?”

  “Dear, you truly do take care of us. We never could survive without you.”

  “Thank you, Ariel. But we both know you’ll manage just fine without me. Now, what do you need?”

  “Cassis. We’ve looked all through the liquor cabinet. Not a sign of it.”

  “Did you look way in back?”

  “Yes, dear. All the way. It simply is not there.”

  Most likely, Faith thought, Balthazar had used it in one of his exotic desserts and left it in the kitchen cupboard, next to the cooking sherry. Faith swung her feet over the edge of the bed. “Give me five minutes. I’ll be down.”

  “We’re terribly selfish, aren’t we?”

  They were, of course. And Faith adored them. “It’s all right. Five minutes.”

  Quickly, Faith pulled on her clothes and slid her feet into her soft-soled shoes. She hurried down the back stairs and right to the kitchen, where she found the cassis in the cupboard, exactly where she’d thought it might be. Then, bottle in hand, she went out through the central hall, the dining room and the music room, and finally through the second set of sliding double doors, which stood wide-open on the huge front parlor.

  The first thing she saw when she went through those double doors was Price, holding a crystal glass with amber liquid in it, leaning lazily on the back of a maroon velvet wing chair. In the chair sat Annette Leclaire, a woman Price had dated on and off for the past couple of years.

  Annette lived a little farther down the hillside. It occurred to Faith that the Montgomerys had probably swung by Annette’s house to pick her up on the way to the opening—a very logical thing for them to have done. And, really, Faith should have assumed that Price would be taking a date.

  But she hadn’t. She’d thought he’d gone on his own.

  Because she’d imagined that something was happening between the two of them. Something special. Something…new and delicate and important to both of them.

  Fool that she was. At that moment, Price became aware of Faith. He looked up from whatever he was saying to his date, and right into her eyes. Faith felt the bottle of cassis slipping from her hands.

  Chapter Three

  “Watch out!” warned Annette Leclaire.

  Faith grabbed for the bottle and caught it before it fell and shattered on the antique rug beneath her feet.

  Annette Leclaire chuckled in relief. “Good catch.” Faith tried not to look at her. She looked so beautiful and sophisticated, dressed in teal-blue silk, with diamonds winking at her ears and throat.

  Regis materialized at Faith’s side. “You are a lifesaver.” He took the bottle from her numb hands and trotted with it over to the wet bar on the east wall.

  “Yes, dear. You are priceless,” Ariel declared.

  “No problem,” Faith heard her own voice say. She turned, thinking only of getting out of that room, of retracing her steps to the third floor and gaining the lonely sanctuary of her own-bed.

  “Faith. Wait.”

  It was Price. She froze.

  “Faith?”

  Slowly, she turned. “Yes?”

  “Stay. Share a toast with us.” He was smiling. Friendly. He had no idea what he’d just done to all her frail, stupid little hopes.

  “Yes, please,” Ariel put in. “Stay for just one little drink.” She gestured at Regis, who was already busy mixing cassis and soda—which would be for Annette. Faith remembered now; Annette Leclaire drank cassis and soda. “Regis is doing the honors tonight,” Ariel was saying. “Put in your order with him.”

  “No,” Faith said, rallying all her will into sounding offhand. “Thank you, but it really is late.” She smiled at each face in turn, a quick, distant smile, then spun on her heel and made for the double doors once more.

  “Faith.” Price’s voice again.

  Oh, what was the matter with him? Why wouldn’t he just let her escape?

  She turned once more. “Yes?”

  He looked puzzled. “Is everything all right?”

  She went on smiling, though the smile felt as false as all her ridiculous hopes had been. “Yes. Of course.” Annette Leclaire was looking at her, strangely, Faith thought. She backed toward the music room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  Price shrugged. “Good night, then.”

  “Good night.” Faith turned. She put one foot in front of the other, back the way she had come, through the music room and the dining room to the central hall and the blessed back stairs.

  Once she’d reached the safety of her two small rooms, she stripped off her clothes and yanked her nightgown down over her head. She slid under the covers, turned off the lamp and lay there, curled in a ball in the dark, shivering though she wasn’t really cold.

  After a while, her shivering eased. She uncurled a little. She took deep breaths.

  She was calm. The pain and mortification were passing. It had been a lesson in reality, that was all. Yes, she’d made a fool of herself. But only in her heart. Price remained utterly ignorant of her feelings for him. She had seen that in his face when he asked her if everything was all right.

  Once more she relived that awful moment when she’d walked into the front parlor and caught sight of him, leaning close to An
nette Leclaire. The memory had her shivering all over again, curling into herself like a wounded thing.

  Faith really did know too much about Price’s personal life. She knew all the tiny, damning details. Once Mary had found a diamond earring tangled in the sheets of Price’s king-size bed. Mary had brought the earring to Faith, and Faith had given it to Price, who had smiled and thanked her for being so conscientious. The earring had looked very much like one of the pair that Annette Leclaire was wearing tonight.

  Faith simply had to get real here. Price Montgomery was a complicated man who’d been burned badly when it came to love. There would always be beautiful, charming women willing to share his bed. But he was never going to let any woman get too close again. And he certainly wouldn’t be giving marriage another try—especially not with his lackluster, sexually inexperienced housekeeper.

  “More than ten years,” Faith whispered tightly to herself. She had worked at Montgomery House for over a decade. And Price had been a single man for just about half that time. If something was going to happen between the two of them, it would have happened by now.

  The truth, faced so directly, had a calming affect. The shivering stopped. Faith uncurled once more.

  From now on, she was going to concentrate on her future, on the new life she would create for herself in North Magdalene. And she was putting her dreamy-eyed fantasies about Price behind her for good.

  Annette’s house was a classic Sausalito brown shingle, which stood on stilts overlooking the bay. Price eased the Jag into the house’s tiny driveway.

  Annette glanced at him from the passenger seat and smiled invitingly. He smiled back, then got out and went around to open the car door for her. When she stood from the leather seat, her skirt fell away, exposing a fair amount of satiny thigh.

  She gathered her evening wrap closer around her. “Chilly tonight.” She shivered a little.

  “Yes.”

  Together, they walked around the back of the car and up to her door. There, she turned to him. “Come in with me.”

  The idea held absolutely no appeal. “Annette…”