Page 9 of Moonshine and Magnolias (Just Add Peaches #1)

Rob stood in the middle of the lobby, hefting a banker’s box in his hands.

He had only a few minutes to decide where to go before the mini evening crowd noticed him.

Brandi Clayton’s throaty laugh drifted into the lobby from the parlor.

Eulalee’s softer tone joined Brandi’s amid the low music that played as a backdrop.

The library would be quieter, but Wendy would be in there. Most likely alone, unless the new guests had joined her. She usually let her aunt and cousin handle the noisier gathering in the parlor.

He and Hal had spent the better part the past few days tracking the movements of Fountenoy Hall’s small staff. Another part of this job Rob found distasteful, but his brother had teased him about it. “I know you prefer your woman petrified, but you’ll have to study them alive this time,” he joked.

Knowing where the women would generally be at any time during the day would be helpful when he and Hal wanted to snoop in the off-limits parts of the building.

Eulalee spent most of her time in the kitchen and helped turn the rooms over when needed.

All three women participated in the after-dinner drink hour.

Brandi left the grounds whenever she thought Wendy wasn’t watching, but Wendy was always watching.

Which was part of the reason Rob had chosen the library for his evening task. Talking to Brandi about her work at the Hall had given him his current course of action .

He pressed the box against the wall for balance, then slid open the wooden door.

Sure enough, Wendy sat with her feet up on the plush brown sofa, her hair in a ponytail spilling over one shoulder and a book resting on her bent knees.

For once she looked relaxed and natural, not like she had to be performing for her guests.

Their gazes locked when he stepped into the room, and her angled features softened.

Her tongue slipped out to wet her lips, uncoiling a hunger in his belly that he thought he had managed to suppress.

Brandi had laughed with him, had clung to his arm and tossed him flirty looks, but every time, his thoughts had stayed with this cool, aloof woman. Her book acted like a shield between them, but he didn’t need it. His self-reproach stopped him from getting any closer.

“Here for the nightcap hour?” she asked.

“Sure.” Like he needed more unwanted heat. It didn’t surprise him when she placed a piece of paper between the pages before carefully placing the book on the side table. No dog ears or creased spines for her.

“I’ve got lemon-lime soda and grenadine, and some grapefruit juice as mixers tonight. Or you can have your whiskey neat or with some ice.” She kept her back to him, giving him a chance to study the curve of her neck. “What’s your pleasure?”

Her, naked, on a bed. “Ice.”

She gave a soft huff of laughter while she poured.

It might be the first time he heard any sounds of amusement from her, aside from her deadpan humor.

It was extremely appealing. “I was about to start the spiel on how it’s made with Fountenoy Hall peaches, but you heard that the other morning.

” She held out the mason jar, humor glinting in her eyes.

“Cheers. Not made with the ones picked a few days ago.”

The shared joke warmed his insides. Damn it, he didn’t want to like her as much as he did. Rob placed the box on top of a table and accepted the drink. One whiff singed the inside of his nose. The proof of this stuff must be in the high eighties. “I’m going to let it sit for a minute.”

“I don’t blame you.” Wendy poured one for herself and mixed it with grapefruit juice and lots of ice.

“Belle’s Medicinal Brewery uses the same recipe that my great-great-granddaddy did in the 1920s, using the same clear water from Scarlett Springs that runs near the property.

” She took a sip, watching him from over the rim of her glass.

Shades of the past crept into Rob’s present. “You were the bootleggers?” How had he missed that? How had any of them missed that?

Damn, he hoped she didn’t notice his saying the bootleggers instead of plain bootleggers.

It was too specific. But it explained so much about why Uncle Louis had resided at Fountenoy Hall for so long.

As a revenuer, he would have been tasked with bringing those who flouted Prohibition laws to justice.

“I knew you’d pick up on that.” The look she gave him showed full appreciation of his ability to make connections.

“My family needed income after the war and my granddaddy knew something about fermentation. So they started making their own alcohol in the late 1800s, around the time they turned Fountenoy Hall into a boarding house. Even when Prohibition started, they kept it all safe and made sure it burned bright. No one ever died from Clayton shine.”

Eulalee poked her head into the library. “There you are. We’re out of whiskey in the parlor.”

“Did you ask Brandi to get more?” Wendy’s lips tightened.

Her aunt shook her head. “She’s holding court. I didn’t want to disturb her.”

“Take this one.” Wendy held the bottle up to Rob first, but he shook his head.

“Thank you, honey.” Her aunt disappeared. Wendy took out her phone and tapped around for a bit. Probably updating her to-do list. Maybe she could teach Hal something about efficiency.

The ice had melted some, and he tried the whiskey. The smooth liquid gave the perfect amount of burn and easily slid down his throat, leaving behind the subtle flavor of peaches. He closed his eyes in appreciation.

“Right? I wasn’t kidding.” Wendy raised her glass. “Here’s to tradition.”

“So. Bootleggers.” He gave her a lazy smile as if the topic was a passing interest. “Being hunted by the IRS. Forced to hide in shadows and work by the light of the moon.”

A furrow appeared on her forehead and her nose wrinkled. He resisted the urge to rub it away. “I hope you don’t think we’re still criminals, Dr. Upshaw.”

“No.” That was reserved for his family.

The door opened, and Mrs. Kipling rushed into the room. Rob cursed the interruption. Now Wendy would get suspicious if he brought up Prohibition yet again. He’d have to find another way.

The newlywed held out her hands. “Ms. Marsh. I just wanted to tell you how much we’ve enjoyed our stay here in case I don’t see you before we leave in the morning. Everything was just perfect.”

Wendy took the offered greeting. “So happy to hear that.” The professional was back, complete with her studied movements and actions.

“The food was incredible, the grounds are incredible, the beds are incredible.” She blushed. “I mean, comfortable. We slept a lot.” She covered her mouth. “Oh, dear. That’s not to say we… I mean, we did, but didn’t… I mean…”

Wendy gave a genuine smile at the woman’s effusive praise, and Rob marveled at the difference between one that came naturally and one she put on for show. “I’m so glad Fountenoy Hall added to the beginning of your beautiful lives. May your family’s tradition continue for many years.”

“I can’t wait to tell my parents about our stay. I hate to leave, but work calls.” She threw her arms around Wendy, who stumbled back. Her own arms rose hesitantly before embracing the younger woman. “Thank you again.”

Once Mrs. Kipling was gone, Rob approached the subject from another track.

“I’ve been studying the outline you use for school tour groups and it didn’t mention anything about Prohibition.

” He took a swallow from his jar. Even diluted, the alcohol still lit a fiery path to his stomach. But damn, that stuff was good.

Her frown gave Rob a twinge of unease. “Maybe because discussing illegal alcoholic activity around impressionable youth wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do and why are you studying our tour outline?

” She set her jar down with a clank and strode to the box he had carried into the room.

She turned it around, revealing the word TOURS scribbled on the side in big, block letters. “Why do you have this?”

Welcome back, task-driven, efficient Ms. Marsh. She was easier on his senses than the soft, sensual one. Ah, who was he trying to fool? He wanted them both.

He knitted his brows, giving her a look of innocent confusion. “Brandi gave it to me. Didn’t she tell you?”

Wendy closed her eyes. “Just to be clear – Brandi my cousin, right?” Her voice was strained.

“We were chatting earlier and she said something about a summer camp coming in for a tour in a few days. She didn’t seem that into it and it sounded fascinating to me, so I volunteered to lead it.”

“Volunteered?” There was a trace of disbelief in her voice. “Dr. Upshaw, you’re a guest. While I appreciate how helpful you’ve been, you really should let us cater to you during your stay. Not the other way around.”

“My schedule is extremely flexible.” Especially since he was working for himself.

When he found out from Brandi earlier that she had to run a tour for campers, his off-hand suggestion that he take over had been greeted with enthusiasm. The benefits of being able to poke around under the guise of helping outweighed any extra work he had to do.

“You don’t know the grounds or the stories or even what to do.”

“Which is why she gave me the box. Your grandmother Maybelle was very thorough. And it’s a benefit for me, too.

My client isn’t sure when his ancestor came through here.

Maybe he was a family friend. Maybe he was a soldier that stopped on his way back home.

Maybe he was a guest when Fountenoy Hall opened its doors to boarders. ”

Wendy pursed her lips. “Do you think your client was connected to my family?”