Page 19 of Hearts Aweigh
S PENCER STRODE INTO THE TEAROOM with five minutes to spare. Not that it made a difference. Daisy always arrived late for everything in order to make an entrance.
British paraphernalia adorned the Royal Crumpets Tearoom. Porcelain cups and saucers painted with the Union Jack decorated each round table, and a portrait of Jane Austen hung on the wall.
He chose a table in the corner where they weren’t likely to be overheard. A piano prelude by Chopin played from the speakers. He ordered a cup of coffee from the server and settled in for a long wait. Was this an ideal time to entreat a little heavenly guidance?
Lord, have I come on a fool’s errand? I haven’t always been the best son, but Daisy hasn’t been the best mother either. Is there any way to heal this relationship?
If what they had could even be called a relationship.
Raised by servants. Shuttled off to boarding school at the age of twelve.
Spencer couldn’t recall a single conversation or embrace with his mother that hadn’t been performed in the company of others.
Daisy had dwelled on the periphery of his life for as long as he could remember.
He doubted she’d even desired children. His father was the only one to pay him attention.
And Julius Masterson’s particular brand of attention had been painstaking and precise.
Spencer was well into his second cup of coffee before his mother made her appearance.
Even in her seventies, she floated across the room with a grace that testified to generations of Southern breeding.
He stood as she approached and pulled the chair out for her.
Once they were seated, she folded her hands on her lap and offered him a tentative smile.
“It’s good to see you, Spencer. I’ve missed you.”
He refrained from voicing the doubt that swelled inside. “Thank you. Have you been well?”
“Very much so. I’ve made new friends who keep me busy.” A twinkle entered her eye. “You might be surprised at the trouble we get into.”
He chuckled. “After hearing you’ve joined a club of matchmakers, I doubt much else could surprise me.”
She gave a ladylike titter. “Between matchmaking and bingo, we stay busy.”
Spencer hoped bingo was the extent of her roommate’s gambling habit. He didn’t want anyone taking advantage of his mother.
“You’re not loaning them money, are you?”
The twinkle disappeared. “Don’t be ugly. Even if I suggested it, my friends would refuse. Not everyone is as calculating as the circle we frequented in New Orleans.”
Though she hadn’t raised her voice so much as a hair, her indignation was clear. Spencer heeded the irate set of his mother’s lips and sent a quick prayer heavenward. Healing decades of hurt was hard enough without piling on new misunderstandings. Perhaps redirection was the best course.
“I had a time tracking you down. You haven’t used any of your credit cards since you left.”
“As you are aware, those accounts aren’t really mine.” Her posture appeared relaxed yet ramrod straight at the same time. “Your father kept an iron grip around them during his lifetime, and he passed control to you upon his death. Not even the deed to our house had my name on it.”
Spencer fidgeted in his seat. He was well acquainted with his late father’s controlling tendencies.
“Dad said you were unable to manage your funds. You always bought whatever struck your fancy. Remember when you purchased that modern art monstrosity at a charity auction? You spent twenty thousand dollars.”
Daisy fluttered her eyelashes. “And it was worth double when I sold it a year later.”
“I concede your point.” He fiddled with his coffee mug. “But I worry you’ll run out of money with this flamboyant lifestyle. Living on a cruise ship. Buying who knows what? How many closets full of clothes and purses and jewelry are back in Louisiana?”
“Not as many as you think.” Daisy braced a hand on the table and rose slightly from her chair. “Thank you for your concern, but I’m capable of supporting myself.”
Was she really? What if someone swindled her? She’d never had to fend for herself in her entire life.
He reached to lay his fingers on top of hers. Daisy’s gaze softened, and she sat. Spencer tried to convey warmth with his voice. If he could just make his mother understand he was concerned for her welfare.
“How are you paying for this lifestyle? Did you sell the shares Dad left you in his will? Even though his partners run the business now, it might upset our controlling interest if one of them gained the majority.”
Daisy yanked her hand away. “Is that your motive for coming? To ask me to sign over your father’s shares?”
“Of course not. I’m not a moneygrubbing—” Spencer stopped. He took a swig of lukewarm coffee to give himself a few seconds. He set the cup down and forced an optimism he didn’t feel into his demeanor. “If you’re happy living in this floating hotel, then who am I to hinder you?”
“I’m glad we agree.” Daisy rose once again and pushed her chair in. “If you’ll excuse me, I promised my roommate I’d accompany her to bingo.”
Bingo again? How many games did this ship run?
He stood opposite her. “Perhaps we can meet later to continue our discussion. Text me when you’re available.”
“I don’t own a cell phone.”
He released a long, frustrated stream of air from his mouth. “It slipped my mind. Forgive me.”
“I do hope you’ll allow me to spend time with Madeleine before the voyage ends.”
Spencer inclined his head. “Of course.” The conversation wasn’t over, no matter how dismissive his mother was. When this boat returned to Galveston, he intended for Daisy to put a permanent end to her cruising career.