Nights in White Satin: A Loveswept Classic Romance by Linda Cajio Page B
Authors: Linda Cajio
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forward. “You can have all your friends back home try and guess who’s the real wax statue.”
She made a face. “How genteel of you, Rick. Remind me to spike your tea later.”
He laughed. He wouldn’t care if she did. It was good to see her relaxing and cheerful again.
Her mood lasted through the Grand Hall, especially when he “innocently” leaned against a pillar in an attempt to fool people by looking like another statue. There were several of them that looked just like ordinary tourists, taking a rest on a bench or gazing at an exhibit.
Still, as they continued through the wax museum, he felt as if somebody had forgotten to let him in on a secret the rest of the world knew. Ever since they’d arrived Jill had clearly been upset, and his grandmother was acting half-senile. Just getting on a plane and crossing theAtlantic without telling anybody was completely out of character for her, and then there was the scene outside Madame Tussaud’s, when she nearly threw a temper tantrum over the possibility of not going to a wax museum. As he continued to wonder why they were being so secretive, the odd location of their rendezvous kept coming back to haunt him. A horrible notion floated through his mind. Even seeing a near perfect replica of Cher in her Academy Awards acceptance dress wasn’t enough to make him forget that this area was also known as London’s medical district. Harley Street was only a few blocks away, and it still held some of the best specialists in the world. Not everyone who consulted with them was British.
When he saw his grandmother engaged in morbid conversation with an elderly French couple over the death masks of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, he seized the opportunity and Jill’s arm. He pulled her farther into the dank humid “dungeon” in the basement of Madame Tussaud’s, until they were almost in the walk-through exhibit of Jack the Ripper’s Victorian London.
“My grandmother is sick, isn’t she?” he demanded. “That’s why you two came over on a moment’s notice. That’s why you’re so hot to see my father, right?”
Jill’s mouth dropped open. Rick knew he’d completely surprised her with his conclusions.
“I—I … ah … Don’t be ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “Lettice is as healthy as a horse.”
“On the outside. It’s … Jill, is she losing her faculties?” He wished he hadn’t chosen such a dim spot for their conversation. He couldn’t quite make out the nuances of her expression.
“No, she’s not losing her faculties. Just because she got her times mixed up for the visit is no reason to think that. Anyone could make a mistake.”
But Jill had hesitated with her answer, enough to confirm his conclusions. His heart sank.
“You better not say anything to her about what you’re thinking,” she added, shaking her head. “She’ll probably shoot you on the spot.”
More confirmation, he thought, taking a deep breath. He knew his grandmother would be ashamed to admit she was ill. Not until she had to. Obviously, Jill was a more trusted companion than he’d thought. And just as obviously, she had been told not to say anything. He admired her honor.
He admired a lot of things about Jill, he mused, unconsciously caressing her silken skin. He ought to let go of her. He really should. He’d promised they wouldn’t … yet how he ached to taste her once more. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and unreadable. He leaned closer.…
“Really, couldn’t you two find a better spot for necking than in the middle of Tussaud’s?”
Rick spun around to find Lettice grinning at them. The French couple strolled by, the mist not quite hiding their smiles of amusement.
“We weren’t necking,” he said in exasperation, almost snatching his fingers away from Jill’s arm.
“Too bad. Things looked pretty hot there.”
“Keep it up, Lettice,” Jill said, “and I’ll show everyone back home that picture of you with Benny
She made a face. “How genteel of you, Rick. Remind me to spike your tea later.”
He laughed. He wouldn’t care if she did. It was good to see her relaxing and cheerful again.
Her mood lasted through the Grand Hall, especially when he “innocently” leaned against a pillar in an attempt to fool people by looking like another statue. There were several of them that looked just like ordinary tourists, taking a rest on a bench or gazing at an exhibit.
Still, as they continued through the wax museum, he felt as if somebody had forgotten to let him in on a secret the rest of the world knew. Ever since they’d arrived Jill had clearly been upset, and his grandmother was acting half-senile. Just getting on a plane and crossing theAtlantic without telling anybody was completely out of character for her, and then there was the scene outside Madame Tussaud’s, when she nearly threw a temper tantrum over the possibility of not going to a wax museum. As he continued to wonder why they were being so secretive, the odd location of their rendezvous kept coming back to haunt him. A horrible notion floated through his mind. Even seeing a near perfect replica of Cher in her Academy Awards acceptance dress wasn’t enough to make him forget that this area was also known as London’s medical district. Harley Street was only a few blocks away, and it still held some of the best specialists in the world. Not everyone who consulted with them was British.
When he saw his grandmother engaged in morbid conversation with an elderly French couple over the death masks of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, he seized the opportunity and Jill’s arm. He pulled her farther into the dank humid “dungeon” in the basement of Madame Tussaud’s, until they were almost in the walk-through exhibit of Jack the Ripper’s Victorian London.
“My grandmother is sick, isn’t she?” he demanded. “That’s why you two came over on a moment’s notice. That’s why you’re so hot to see my father, right?”
Jill’s mouth dropped open. Rick knew he’d completely surprised her with his conclusions.
“I—I … ah … Don’t be ridiculous!” she exclaimed. “Lettice is as healthy as a horse.”
“On the outside. It’s … Jill, is she losing her faculties?” He wished he hadn’t chosen such a dim spot for their conversation. He couldn’t quite make out the nuances of her expression.
“No, she’s not losing her faculties. Just because she got her times mixed up for the visit is no reason to think that. Anyone could make a mistake.”
But Jill had hesitated with her answer, enough to confirm his conclusions. His heart sank.
“You better not say anything to her about what you’re thinking,” she added, shaking her head. “She’ll probably shoot you on the spot.”
More confirmation, he thought, taking a deep breath. He knew his grandmother would be ashamed to admit she was ill. Not until she had to. Obviously, Jill was a more trusted companion than he’d thought. And just as obviously, she had been told not to say anything. He admired her honor.
He admired a lot of things about Jill, he mused, unconsciously caressing her silken skin. He ought to let go of her. He really should. He’d promised they wouldn’t … yet how he ached to taste her once more. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and unreadable. He leaned closer.…
“Really, couldn’t you two find a better spot for necking than in the middle of Tussaud’s?”
Rick spun around to find Lettice grinning at them. The French couple strolled by, the mist not quite hiding their smiles of amusement.
“We weren’t necking,” he said in exasperation, almost snatching his fingers away from Jill’s arm.
“Too bad. Things looked pretty hot there.”
“Keep it up, Lettice,” Jill said, “and I’ll show everyone back home that picture of you with Benny