"Oh, not very much, dear," Aunt Elizabeth said. "It wasn't a complete revelation, you know. It was more of a very muddled, fleeting impression. When are you going away?"
"In about a week," Tamara answered cautiously. She'd decided there was no way she was going to burden her aunt with the entire story that led to her acceptance of Rex's proposal and she'd constructed a half-truth she hoped was fairly plausible. "I decided I'd like to try something new, so I resigned from Bettencourt's and I'm going to take a temporary clerical position touring with an entertainer. It will only last a month and then I'll return and consider my other career options." She smiled brightly. "I have a little money in the bank. Perhaps I'll just take a few months off and work on my book."
"A week? I received the impression that it would be much sooner than that," Aunt Elizabeth said, frowning. Then her face cleared and she added, "Oh well, perhaps I was mistaken. What's the young man's name, dear?"
"Rex Brody," Tamara answered. "He's Margaret Bettencourt's nephew and evidently very well known. It will only be for a short while and I’ll be perfectly safe. You mustn't worry, darling."
"Oh, I'm not worried," her aunt assured her tranquilly. "I have nothing but good vibrations about this move of yours, dear." A tiny frown wrinkled her brow. "Though there was some disturbance about the blood."
"Blood?"
"Oh, it was all quite mixed-up. There's nothing to worry about I'm sure," Aunt Elizabeth said comfortingly. "It was just a bit puzzling. I'm certain all the details will come in much clearer next time."
Tamara hoped ruefully that some of the details would remain permanently blurred. How could anyone hope to practice even a well-meant deception when her aunt knew more than she did about her own future?
"I’ll call you as soon as we arrive in each city," Tamara said gently. "You won't be too lonely, love?" It was the first time they'd ever been separated and Tamara was already feeling a bit misty about the parting.
Her aunt shook her curly white head briskly. "I'll miss you, of course, dear, but I don't believe I’ll be lonely." Her blue eyes twinkled. "You're very lucky, you know, Tamara. There's such music in that young man!"
"Music?" Tamara asked, puzzled. "Yes, I believe that he's a very accomplished musician. Janie tells me he's quite a famous composer as well." She shrugged. "I really wouldn't know. He's in the pop field, and I don't really care for that type of music."
"That wasn't the music I was referring to, dear," her aunt said absently. Then before Tamara could question this bewildering statement, her aunt ordered firmly, "Now eat your supper, Tamara. Your soup is getting cold."
Tamara obediently picked up her spoon and applied herself to her meal. From past experience she knew that if her aunt didn't wish to continue a conversation, there would be no moving her. Besides, she was determined to let nothing worry her during this next week. For the first time in years she was free to do exactly as she wished, with none of the responsibilities of her career to worry her. She fully intended to enjoy the respite she'd almost forcibly wrested from Rex.
And who knew what Rex's attitude would be after only a few days with her in his fast-moving world? She would be such an alien! She looked musingly around the kitchen with its polished pine cabinets and the red ginghain curtains at the window. It was all so simple and homey, and it must be as far removed as another planet from Rex's luxurious surroundings in New York. Back in his own world, populated with the alluring, sophisticated women he was accustomed to, he would probably forget about this temporary aberration over her. She might not even hear from him again once he realized how very far apart they were in every way that really mattered. Of course he was gone for good!
Why did that realization bring this curious flatness? The trip with Rex was merely going to be an interesting interlude before she began her own personal renaissance. It couldn't be disappointment she was feeling, she assured herself quickly. It was just that since Rex's appearance on her horizon, she'd been thrown into a tumult of new sensations and experiences. The very "newness" of the feelings was exciting, so of course it was natural she should feel a trifle confused now that his whirlwind personality was removed from her immediate orbit. In a day or two, when her life was once more on its smooth, orderly track, she was sure she wouldn't give the arrogant Rex Brody another thought.
It was almost noon the next day when the door of her greenhouse swung open explosively and Tamara looked up in amazement to see Rex Brody, dressed in rust-colored jeans and a yellow sweatshirt, stride into the room. Except for the change of clothes, he might never have left, for he still wore the frown of angry impatience that had been on his face when he'd slammed out of the greenhouse twenty-four hours before.
"Do you spend all your time out here?" he demanded, as he crossed to where she was kneeling. He grasped her shoulders and pulled her to her feet.
"Most of it," she answered automatically, staring at him. "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in New York!"
"I'm very well aware of that," he said caustically. "In eight hours I'm supposed to be onstage at Carnegie Hall and I'm still in this podunk of a town thanks to your blasted stubbornness."
"You mean you haven't been to New York at all?" she asked, her violet eyes widening.
He scowled at her. "How the hell could I go to New York when I've been running around like a madman trying to find this phenomenon of a horticultural expert you insist on?"
"That's why you're still here?" Tamara asked faintly, shaking her head. "That's completely crazy. I told you I'd locate someone and join you later."
"I'm afraid I don't trust you to make that 'later' as soon as possible," he said. "And I want you with me now." Grabbing her hand, he turned and headed for the door, dragging her behind him.
"But I told you-"
"You told me you wanted an expert to babysit your precious plants," he interrupted harshly. "Well, I got him for you, damn it. It took me all day yesterday and a trip to Boston University, but your expert is sitting in your kitchen at this moment. Would you consider a university professor with a Ph.D. in Botany adequate for your needs?"
"Well, yes, of course," she stammered. "But-"
"Well, that's what you've got." He pulled her across the yard and up the back porch steps. "Dr. Lawrence Billings, currently on sabbatical from Boston University and willing not only to make house calls but actually live on the spot and give your herbs tender loving care."
"Live here? But he can't do that! What about Aunt Elizabeth?"
"Why don't you ask her?" Rex opened the kitchen screen door and stepped aside, gesturing mockingly for Tamara to enter.
Aunt Elizabeth was sitting at the kitchen table beside a tall, lanky man in his late fifties, with iron gray hair and a strong, intelligent face that had no claim to good looks. His gray tweed jacket and dark slacks were well worn but of good quality, and he had an air of careless confidence that reflected the assurance of maturity. He rose at once when Tamara entered the room and his smile was quick and warm.
Her aunt looked up from refilling their visitor's coffee cup and said happily, "Tamara, do stop and say hello to our guest before you leave. Lawrence has just been telling me how eager he is to see your greenhouse. Do you suppose you’ll have time to show him around?"
"Yes, of course," Tamara answered dazedly. She wondered just how long ago Rex had arrived. It was clear he'd not only had time to reconcile Aunt Elizabeth to her departure, but for Professor Billings to become "Lawrence."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss Ledford." Rex's voice contained just the right note of regretful apology. "As I explained earlier, time is of the essence. I'm sure Professor Billings will be more than happy with you as a guide."
"Certainly," Professor Billings agreed genially. "You're extraordinarily well informed for a layman, Elizabeth."