The Happiest Day Read online

Page 2


  “Grow up, Rachel,” he said forcefully. “You can’t expect me to live like a monk. I’m not a blushing bridegroom, I’m nearly forty.”

  “You’re disgusting,” she spat at him. “Helen is your friend’s wife. Don’t you even care?”

  “Helen and Norris have an open marriage. He wouldn’t care.”

  “Wh-what’s an open marriage?”

  “They’re allowed to be with other people.”

  “Are you saying Norris is…intimate…with other women? And Helen knows about it? And he wouldn’t care that you’re…with his wife?”

  Frederick suddenly looked uncomfortable. “He doesn’t need to know about this.”

  “So you’re lying to me!” She stood up, angrily shoving him away from her. “He would be furious if he knew that you and Helen were having an affair. He loves her.”

  Frederick grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “God, you little fool, he wouldn’t care because of her. He would be angry because of you.”

  “What do you mean?” Her teeth rattled from the shaking.

  “He would be upset to find out I had been unfaithful to you.” He pursed his lips. “Do you plan on telling him?”

  “Yes! No…I don’t know. But this…this farce of an engagement is over.”

  Shockingly, Frederick had smiled. “Au contraire, my darling. It’s too late to back out now. You and I are getting married as planned.”

  “I won’t marry you.”

  “You will or I’ll ruin this family.”

  “Rachel?”

  Rachel started and looked at Peter. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Have you changed your mind? If so, break it off. No one will think less of you. Frankly, I’d be thrilled.” His eyes suddenly narrowed. “Is this where this thing with Toby came from? Are you using him to force Stern’s hand? So he’ll break up with you?”

  Rachel shrugged one shoulder. “It’s not that exactly.”

  “Then what exactly?” he asked exasperatedly. “I can’t help you if you won’t confide in me. As far as Toby, whatever the reason, you are made of better stuff than this. Cut the poor boy loose. It’s simple. While you’re at it, break it off with Stern.”

  “I can’t. It’s not that simple.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t know everything.”

  “Then tell me.”

  She shook her head. “Norris gets back from Boston with the boys tonight. I need to talk to him about this.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked, pushing a tear-soaked lock of hair off of her cheek. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

  She smiled. “I know. You’ve been there for me since the very first night, but I need to handle this by myself. Trust me.”

  He checked his watch. “You and I are unfashionably late for lunch with Maryanne and Bert. I’m going to blame it on you, you know.”

  “I know.” She wiped the last of the tears off of her face. “I’ll race you back to the stables. This time, try not to cheat.”

  Chapter 2

  Not a day went by that Rachel didn’t think of her parents, Thomas and Julia, and felt an ache in her heart. She never gave up hope that the horrible night from her childhood had been a nightmare in which she was trapped. One day, like a princess from a fairy tale, she would awaken and find her parents, sitting in the kitchen, smiling at her in welcome.

  She knew she and her brother Laurie were blessed to have Norris Thornton. She had known Norris her entire life. He had been her father’s boyhood friend who had moved from the country into the city when his own father had inherited the family newspaper. Although forty miles apart, Norris and Thomas had never given up on their friendship. Rachel had fond memories of Norris visiting them several times a month, eating supper with them, his refined laughter mixing with her father’s booming whoops of hilarity. Rachel remembered her mother’s sparkling blue eyes as the evening would grow late. Julia would sit at the piano and play tunes while Norris danced with Rachel, allowing her to stand on his fine Italian shoes while he twirled her around the parlor. He would pick both Rachel and Laurie up in his arms, spin them around and hug them tightly to his chest.

  Not long before her parents’ murders, Rachel asked her mother about Norris’ family. Julia had been hesitant to answer but Rachel had pushed. “Is he married? Does he have children?” At eight, she was half in love with the handsome, dashing man who showered so much attention on her.

  “He is married,” her mother had answered carefully. “Her name is Helen.”

  “Do they have children?”

  “Yes. Helen has a son from her first marriage, Peter. He’s almost a grown man now—sixteen, I think. Norris and Helen have two children together, Maryanne is just a little older than you and Geoffrey is about a year older than Laurie.”

  “Why doesn’t he ever bring them here? Maryanne could be my friend.”

  Julia’s eyes had taken on a sad look as she continued chopping vegetables. “I’m sure she would. I think Norris likes coming here alone. He’s a very important man in Cincinnati. I think when he comes here, he is able to get away from all of the pressure.”

  Rachel hadn’t understood, but her mother was uncharacteristically quiet on the topic.

  The night Norris had rescued her and Laurie, she had seen his house and met his family for the first time. A decade later, she still didn’t understand why Norris had kept his friends and his family separate but had loved and respected him too much to probe into his privacy. Helen, his wife, was a cold woman who openly resented the two children now living in her house. Luckily, she was a socialite and rarely at home. Her life revolved around parties and damaging gossip. Rachel couldn’t count the number of times she had walked into the parlor to find Helen with a group of friends, laughing and chattering, only to fall silent when Rachel entered. It didn’t take her very long to realize that the women had been gossiping about her. Eventually, she learned to stay in her room or at the stables when Helen had friends over for tea. She was the very opposite of Rachel’s own mother and Rachel never had to worry about the woman trying to replace Julia.

  Norris would never be her father, but he was a special link to the memory of her parents. There were times she found him gazing at her, his eyes misty, his jaw trembling and she knew he must be thinking of her parents. Once, when she was barely ten years old, she found the courage to approach him and he drew her onto his lap, laying his head against hers, stroking her long hair.

  “You look so much like her,” he had whispered gruffly.

  “I know.” She did know that she looked like her mother. Her father had always referred to them as twins, separated by twenty years. “Does it make you sad?”

  “No. It just makes me love you all the more.”

  Almost ten years had passed in the care of the Thorntons. Laurie had blossomed, having been only four when orphaned. He viewed Norris as his father and Geoff, Maryanne, and Peter as his own siblings. Rachel, on the other hand, had remained emotionally aloof for months, if not years, not wanting to betray the memory of her parents. It had been Peter who had taken her under his wing, allowing her to ride horses with him in silence, until one day she had said in a little voice, “I don’t want to forget them.”

  Peter hadn’t even looked at her, only answered, “You won’t. You’ll never forget them.” He had been ripped from his grandparents at the age of nine when Helen had come to reclaim him, years after abandoning him as a newborn. Her husband, a stable master, had been killed by the hooves of a stallion, and the owners of the estate had no use for a widow and infant. Helen had taken Peter to his paternal grandparents and left without a backward glance. Peter had confided in Rachel that he believed Helen would have never come for him if Norris hadn’t discovered his existence by accident and insisted that Helen’s son come to live with them.

  Rachel had found her place in the family as time went by. Maryanne, just a few months older than her, became her dearest friend and Geoff was like a bothersome but adora
ble little brother. Peter was quite simply her protector. He insulated her from Helen’s barbed comments and scathing looks. He didn’t poke or prod when she seemed withdrawn and sad, but seemed to sense it, even after he moved away from the estate. He would appear at her bedroom doorway, his dark eyes taking in her body language, and flick his hand. It didn’t matter if they left via horse or his car—he was her means to escape from the sometimes oppressive atmosphere of the Thornton estate.

  She asked him once how he knew when she needed him and he had teased her, “Maybe we’re soul mates, Spider.”

  That could have been a romantic statement causing her teenage heart to stutter, but the existence of Blanche MacGregor, his wife, put to rest any such notions. Peter had married her after he finished law school and she was generally despised by Rachel, Laurie, and Peter’s siblings. It was beyond Rachel why Peter had married somebody so much like his own mother. Blanche even looked like Helen in a way. She was short, but curvy, and wore her jet black hair in a severe slicked back hairstyle that suited her face. She had feline eyes, green and slanted. She and Peter were a beautiful couple and it was easy to see that they were physically attracted to each other. Blanche always dressed in the latest fashion and, along with Helen, was on the top rung of the social ladder. People lived and died by Blanche’s opinion. For her to appear at a party was the highest honor. If she so much as sneered at someone, though, that unfortunate individual knew they were doomed.

  Throughout their engagement and for the first few months of their marriage, Peter appeared besotted. They were together almost constantly and Rachel marveled at how he seemed blind to Blanche’s mean spirited glances and words. Rachel would find herself trembling when she would look up to discover Blanche’s eyes on her. She and Maryanne admitted to each other that they were afraid of the woman and tried to stay clear of her as much as possible.

  Then, just months after his marriage, he and his best friend and law partner, Bert Corbin, had left for France and the war. Time seemed to come to a standstill for everyone. Maryanne, usually a happy soul, lay in bed for hours at a time, crying into her pillow. She admitted to Rachel that she was in love with Bert. At not quite fifteen years old, Maryanne displayed the tragic drama that only a teenage girl could. Rachel spent many nights comforting her friend but secretly believing that twenty-two year old Bert could not possibly be interested in the young girl. She hoped that by the time he and Peter returned home, Maryanne had moved on to someone more obtainable.

  Finally, both men came home, physically sound; Peter, however, seemed to have changed in subtle ways. He was more introspective, if that was possible, and within just a few weeks, he seemed to have lost affection for his wife. He spent most of his time at work, at his private apartment in the city, or at the Thornton estate. For her part, Blanche didn’t seem to mind. During the war, she had thrived on the social scene, playing the despondent war bride with flair and Peter’s return could only serve to interfere with her busy schedule. They stayed married but Rachel thought that she had never met a more unlikely or unaffectionate couple.

  Upon their return, the now seventeen years old Maryanne made a play for Bert, in a ladylike but determined fashion. Bert couldn’t resist the dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty that possessed the same fun-loving personality as his own and it was barely a year later that they had become officially engaged. The men had been back from the war for over two years now and Bert and Maryanne were due to be married in less than one week’s time. Rachel suspected that the upcoming wedding had played a part in her responding to Frederick’s attention. She was frightened of being alone, and lonely, once Maryanne moved out. Laurie and Geoff attended a prep school in Boston and only came home for the holidays and the summer. Norris was always working at the newspaper and Rachel could go for weeks at a time without seeing Peter if he was involved in a case. When Frederick proposed, she remembered feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. In retrospect, that probably wasn’t the best response she could have had.

  “You’re a million miles away,” Maryanne said, touching her hand gently.

  She and Rachel, Peter, and Bert sat at a table on the back patio at the main house, going over the last minute details of the wedding.

  “Oh, I was just thinking about Norris and the boys coming home tonight. I can’t wait to see Laurie and Geoff again. It’s been since Christmas.” She took a sip of her iced tea. “Just six more days now. Are you nervous or excited?”

  Maryanne smiled coyly, twirling a lock of dark hair around her finger. “Now just excited.” She looked under her lashes at the men, and convinced that they were engrossed in their own conversation, whispered, “I took care of the nervousness last night.”

  Rachel frowned in confusion. “What does that mean?”

  Maryanne smiled and raised her eyebrows. “Well, you know what I was worried about…”

  Rachel stared at her for a long moment, then gasped. “You don’t mean…”

  Maryanne nodded rapidly, grabbing Rachel’s hand. “Ssh…if Peter knew, he’d break Bert’s nose.” She leaned closer. “It…was…amazing.”

  “Oh, Maryanne,” Rachel breathed. “You’re so lucky to have Bert.” They both looked over at the husky, blond man who laughed easily while talking with Peter. His eyes met Maryanne’s and he winked. A giggle escaped from Maryanne and Peter scowled as he looked from one to the other.

  “What are you two doing? You act like you have a secret.”

  “Maybe we do,” Maryanne teased. “And it’s going to stay a secret, big brother.”

  “Stop scowling, Peter,” Rachel admonished. “When was the last time you smiled? Do your muscles even move that way anymore?”

  “Give me something to smile about,” Peter challenged, raising his eyebrows in a challenge.

  In a flash, Rachel scooped a piece of ice from her tea and dropped it down Peter’s shirt. He gave out a yowl, reaching down his shirt to grab the offending chunk.

  “That doesn’t sound like laughter,” Bert observed.

  “I’m laughing,” Maryanne stated through her giggles.

  Peter finally reached the ice and pulled it out, immediately grabbing Rachel from her chair and dropping it down her neckline. Rachel tried to escape from his grasp, but he wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling her up against him. “Oh no you don’t, Spider. We’re going to stand here until the ice melts. I hope it’s slow and painful.”

  Rachel broke out into uncontrollable giggles while she struggled against him. Peter felt his heart warm. He loved to hear Rachel laugh. She had always been such a shy, withdrawn child; damaged really, by the trauma she had suffered. He knew she was frightened of loving again and he could understand that fear. He had felt the same way when Norris and Helen had taken him away from his grandparents, the only family he had ever known. At the time, there was no one to protect and shelter him. He had found solace in the horses and eventually opened his heart to his young sister, then later Geoff. He had never bonded with his mother, who requested he call her Helen, but had developed a polite relationship with Norris. In all, though, he had generally felt isolated until a little girl, clad in a white nightgown, had arrived on their doorstep in the middle of the night. He could give to her what no one had been able to provide for him. Somewhere along the way, he had also started to genuinely like her and eventually, as difficult as it was for him to admit, loved her.

  “It’s melted,” she gasped now, no longer struggling. “You won, all right?”

  “Don’t I always?” he growled in her ear, and then released her with a small chuckle. They both sat down, Rachel’s face flushed with merriment.

  He wished he could take a snapshot of this moment, sitting on the patio with his sister, best friend, and Rachel. Fluffy white clouds chased each other across the brilliant blue sky, the marvelous gardens were in full bloom with a variety of flowers, and he could smell summer on the breeze. Beyond this moment, he knew, were problems. Whatever it was that was bothering Rachel would have to be dealt with a
nd he would need to ensure that she didn’t marry Stern. His own marriage was in shambles and his answer so far had been to ignore it. These were problems, but they could be solved. For today, he would just enjoy the moment.

  Chapter 3

  Norris arrived home with Geoff and Laurie after supper and there was a whirlwind of hugs and laughter, the family happy to be together again. Rachel’s brother was fourteen years old and had grown another inch since she had last seen him, now standing taller than her. “How dare you?” she asked teasingly, after hugging him. “How can I push you around now?”

  “You can’t,” he responded with a grin, pleased that she had noticed. His blond hair was mussed, as if he had been sleeping on the way home, but his blue eyes were lively. “Are you all right? You look tired.”

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “We’ve just been busy getting ready for the wedding. We’re going to have to get the tailor out here tomorrow to alter your tuxedo pants.” She turned and hugged Geoff. “You, too. What are they feeding you boys at that school?”

  “Not enough,” Geoff declared. “I’m starving. Did you save any supper?”

  Geoff was a charismatic young man, fifteen years old and similar in looks to his father with blond hair and crystal clear blue eyes. He excelled at everything he attempted, blessed with good looks, athletic prowess, and a quick mind. Laurie, with his quieter personality, always deferred to Geoff willingly, happy to be along for the ride. Rachel always thought that Geoff was like lightning, snapping with vitality and excitement and Laurie was the gentle rain after the storm had passed. Both boys, however, were kind and caring. Rachel was always thankful that all three of Helen’s children had nothing of her personality.

  Helen put in a brief appearance, long enough to present her cheek for Geoff to dutifully kiss. She was dressed for a night out, wearing an evening gown of black chiffon and gold brocade, designed with Deco flowers. The bias skirt and scalloped hem was perfect for her figure and the V-neckline revealed her décolletage. She was in her early forties but looked much younger. Diamonds dripped from her lobes and wrists and her makeup was flawless, if a bit heavy-handed.