I knew she was speaking of my father, but I prayed that she also meant that things would be fine for us at the house. They didn’t feel fine, and now she wouldn’t be with me. I couldn’t tell her what was happening even if I wanted to. After giving Michael a quick kiss and receiving a wetter one from him, she sat back and Terrance shut her in the car. We waved after her until the car disappeared down the drive, leaving us alone.
Inside, I took Michael into the library to call Press at the office, but his telephone rang and rang. I hung up, thinking. Then I dialed Rachel’s number.
My stomach tightened for no good reason that I could think of when she answered in a breathless voice and told me that yes, Press had dropped by. But I relaxed when she said she would go and get him from the kitchen where he was making a late breakfast for Jack. It was the one meal Press could make for himself, and Rachel hated to cook. I guessed Jack had been at the hospital overnight.
“Will you tell him he needs to come home? Something’s happened.”
Chapter 19
J. C.
J. C. Jacquith was driven down from The Grange in one of the hotel’s private cars, deposited on our doorstep, and entered Bliss House on a pungent wave of Caron Poivre, wearing a slender and stiff-as-meringue dark green cotton dress trimmed in black. Her sunglasses, wide-brimmed hat, and heels were all black as well. I came into the hall in time to see her purse her garnet-red lips to share an enthusiastic kiss with Preston, who held her by the shoulders to—I assume—steady her.
“I always forget what a terrifying drive it is down to this place, Press.” She slumped comically. “That boy driving the car seemed to think it was some kind of rally race. I’m positively dizzy.”
Before Press could respond, she noticed me coming in from the dining room.
“Look, it’s the Precious Bride! Darling, aren’t you just as fresh as a country daisy?” She teetered over to me and kissed the air on either side of my face.
I tensed, but she gave no sign that she noticed.
Terrance came silently in behind us, and J.C. had a bright hello, you old cad for him, as well. “That boy just left my bags on the step like I’m some kind of hobo. Will you be an angel and bring them in for me?”
“Put her in the yellow room, Terrance.” I did my best not to look at him. Though he was some thirty years older, he was the same man who had stood by while Olivia was tortured and humiliated.
I turned to J.C. “The sun won’t wake you in the morning.”
She was our first real guest since Olivia’s funeral and, despite my dislike for her, I’d easily slipped into Olivia’s former role as hostess. Press, who hadn’t yet spoken, lifted an eyebrow. I don’t know why he was surprised. Had he thought taking care of guests would be his job? The western side of the house was still very warm in the afternoons, but there wasn’t anywhere for her on our side of the house, unless I tucked her away in the bedroom beside the ballroom on the third floor. But that would’ve taken more overt rudeness than I could make myself exercise.
“Aren’t you a love! Press must’ve told you I’m like one of those vampire creatures. I’m completely allergic to mornings.” Her tone was one of exaggerated gratitude, like that of an Austen character whose words might be construed either as impossibly obsequious or crudely sarcastic. I hadn’t been around J.C. enough to tease out the difference. As she followed Terrance upstairs, she kept up a running stream of commentary on the paneling, the paintings, the dome, the furniture. Terrance only nodded or shook his head in response. I watched her stop dead in front of Olivia’s room, and Terrance paused to wait. Had she heard something? Sensed something? Press had mentioned once that she fancied herself to have psychic sensitivities. Finally, she restarted her chatter and moved on.
As Terrance put her bags in the yellow room, she leaned out just a bit over the balcony and blew a kiss to the two of us as though she knew we’d been watching. I watched Press’s face. He looked pleased, but I had no idea what he was thinking.
Twenty minutes later, after she’d changed into more casual clothes, she and Press disappeared into the theater to talk to the decorators.