Page 17

Seamie stood in the middle of the sidewalk, a fencing foil in his hand.

“But why do we have to leave lessons early?” he demanded, jutting his chin.

“Because I’m worried I chose the wrong color for the shop walls and I want to see how it looks before the painters get too far along,” Fiona explained. “Come on, will you?”

“I bet D’Artagnan never had to leave his fencing lessons early,” Seamie grumbled.

“Can you please stop dragging your feet? It’s going to pour any minute.”

Fiona was hurrying Seamie up Eighth Avenue. It was the dingy walls of the fencing master’s studio that had convinced her once and for all that the shade she’d chosen was too dark. She’d cut Seamie’s lesson short by fifteen minutes to make sure they got to the shop in time.

It was just after five when they arrived. The shop door was locked, and there was no sign of McTaggart and his crew. Fiona had her own key and just as she put it into the lock, the skies opened.

“Whew! We made it just in time,” she said to Seamie as she hurried him inside. “Mr. McTaggart won’t be happy with me for the last-minute change, but maybe he can run back to his shop and lighten the paint while his men move things out of the way.”

“En garde!” Seamie shouted, brandishing his foil at his reflection in the glass front of the meat cooler.

As Fiona peered at the paint samples she and Nick had daubed onto the walls nearly two weeks ago, the shop door opened.

She turned and was surprised to see her husband standing there, but her surprise immediately gave way to concern.

She hardly recognized him. He was always so beautifully groomed and dressed.

But now his hair was askew. He was wearing no jacket and had a napkin tied around his neck. His face was a picture of panic.

“ Nicholas ? You look as if you’ve escaped from a lunatic asylum! What’s going on?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Nick demanded, tearing the napkin from around his neck and shoving it into his pocket. “You’re supposed to be at Seamie’s fencing lesson!”

“I-I came to meet the painters,” Fiona replied, taken aback by his tone. “I decided to change the color after all.”

“No!”

“ No ?”

“You can’t be here. You have to leave. Right now!”

“Nicholas Soames, what on earth is going on? Where are the painters? They’re supposed to be here.” She put her hands on her hips and gave him a dire look. “You did forget to give McTaggart his deposit, didn’t you? And now he has canceled.”

Before Nick could answer, Ian walked into the shop from its back door, followed by Alec and Nell. They were all shaking rainwater off themselves .

“Uncle Nick!” Nell shouted, happy to see him.

“What…no!” Nick cried. “No, no, no, no, no! You can’t be here, either!”

Nell laughed, thinking Nick was playing some funny new game.

“But we live here,” Ian said, perplexed by Nick’s strange behavior.

“You’re supposed to be at a baseball game!”

“It looked like rain so the officials called it off,” Ian explained. “I practiced bunting in the backyard instead with Grandad and Nell.”

Nick groaned. He pressed his hands to his cheeks.

Alec’s eyebrows shot up. “What ails you, lad?” he asked.

“The pudding!” Nick replied. The words came out louder than he’d intended and made them all jump. Except for Nell, who clapped because pudding was her favorite.

Alec looked at Fiona. “I think we should fetch a doctor,” he said to her in a low voice. “He’s unwell. He’s raving about dessert.”

Seamie had stopped fencing with his reflection and had drawn near. “You mean Milton Duffery?” he asked.

Alec’s eyes narrowed as he heard the name. “What’s this got to do with him?”

“Surely, you don’t need me to tell you,” Nick said impatiently. “The proposal? The diamond ring?”

“ What ?” Ian and Alec said at the same time.

“She hasn’t told you?” Nick said.

“No, she has not,” said Alec. He glanced at his grandson. They both looked as if they’d been hit by a train.

“For goodness’ sake, Nicholas,” Fiona said, glaring at him. “Mary should be the one to announce the news, not you.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“That still doesn’t explain why you don’t want us here,” said Alec.

“Yes, well, desperate times call for desperate measures. And so I did some…some things ,” Nick said, glancing at the shop’s clock. It was twenty-three minutes past five. Michael and Mary would be here any minute.

“What kind of things?” Fiona asked, suspicion coloring her voice.

“I told the painters to come tomorrow night. But I asked Mary to come down to let them in tonight, and Michael to come at the same time to pay them.”

“Let me guess…neither knows the other one is coming,” said Fiona.

Nick nodded. “I was hoping that if they had five minutes alone, they could talk and perhaps save themselves from making a big mistake.”

“Nicholas, you have gone too far,” Fiona said. “You really have.”

“That’s rather rich coming from you,” Nick retorted.

Alec came to Nick’s defense. “He hasn’t gone far enough, lass,” he declared. “Mary cannot marry that man. Not when she loves Michael.”

“What do we do?” Ian asked.

“Come with me to Whelan’s. We’ll hide out there while they meet here,” Nick said. He raced to the door, grabbed the handle, then stopped short. “Oh, no. Oh, blast!” he said, pointing. “Look! ”

Michael was half a block away, crossing the street, and holding an umbrella. He didn’t see Nick and his co-conspirators—he was too busy watching the traffic—but he would shortly; he was heading straight for the shop.

“Don’t panic! Nobody panic!” Nick nearly shouted.

“ You’re panicking!” Fiona shot back.

Alec took charge. “If we can’t go out, we’ll go up.”

“Where? To your flat? Mary’s up there,” Nick babbled.

“Not to our flat. To Michael’s,” Alec said. “We’ll have to be very quiet so she doesn’t hear us on the stairs.”

“Brilliant idea! Let’s go!”

Fiona took Nell’s hand, and the entire group hurried out of the shop, through the open doorway, and into the vestibule. Nick led the way up the stairs, treading as lightly as he could. The others followed him. They were halfway up the staircase when a door opened above them.

It was Mary. She was making her way across the landing.

Everyone froze. Nick felt his stomach plunge. It was over. They were done for. In seconds, she would reach the top of the stairwell and see them.

And then a tea kettle whistled. They all heard it.

“Goodness, where is my head today?” Mary said with an exasperated sigh. Her footsteps receded.

The instant she was back in her flat, Nick did an about-face. “Back to the shop!” he whisper-shouted.

“But Michael will see us!” Ian whisper-shouted back.

“Not if we hide! Go!”

They all hurried back down the stairs as quickly and quietly as they could. Nick brought up the rear. Just as he reached the vestibule again, he heard Mary re-emerge on the landing.

“Gogogogogo!” he hissed, herding the others along.

When they were all back inside the shop, he glanced out the window. Michael had made it across the street and was only yards away now. All he had to do was look up and he’d see them. Then someone called to him from the sidewalk, and he stopped and raised a hand in greeting.

“Broom closet!” Nick whispered to Alec.

Alec nodded and hurried toward it. Ian went with him. Mary was well down the staircase now. Her footsteps were getting louder.

There was a large round display table in the middle of the shop’s floor, covered by a long linen tablecloth. Nick lifted it. “Fiona! Under here!”

Fiona, who was still holding Nell’s hand, ducked under the table and pulled the little girl with her.

Nick glanced out the window again. Michael was chatting with Tommy Whelan.

There was a clap of thunder; the rain started to come down harder.

Nick knew the conversation wouldn’t last much longer.

He grabbed Seamie’s hand and was just about to dash behind the counter with him, when he heard a little voice rising from under the table. “One…two…three…”

Nell , he thought frantically. She thinks this is hide-and-seek. If she’s not quiet, she’ll give us away !

Fiona whipped the tablecloth up. “Give me a piece of candy!” she mouthed at him.

Nick scanned the shop. He didn’t know where the candy was.

He didn’t see any cookies, either. Then something colorful caught his eye—a strawberry sponge cake with pink icing.

It was sitting on top of the display table.

Mary hadn’t put it away yet. He grabbed the whole thing, plate and all, and thrust it at Fiona.

She took it from him and let go of the cloth.

Mary reached the bottom of the staircase. “Oh, I hope the painters are on time,” she said wearily. “I’m in no mood to wait on them tonight.”

Nick, his heart slamming, grabbed Seamie and pulled him behind the counter.

They ducked down just as Mary walked in from the vestibule.

And Michael opened the shop door.