eyes seemed to probe her emotion, measuring it. Maggie’s nerves tensed up so much she was almost driven to challenge any disbelief he had, but she held her tongue. She couldn’t make him believe her. He either did or he didn’t.
Luckily Sedgewick picked that touchy moment to serve her the martini she’d agreed to have and Maggie gratefully grabbed the glass, hating the searching silence. She gulped some of the strong liquor, barely stopped herself from choking on it, then sought further distraction in selecting one of Jeffrey’s dainty pizza circles with cheese, tomato and olives baked into it.
“I know what you mean,” Beau Prescott said quietly, startling her into looking at him again. His expression was soft, fondly reminiscent. “He had such a zest for life it was infectious. He opened windows to the world for me.”
“Yes. Oh, yes! That was just how it was.” The words tripped out, surprised delight lifting her heart.
His head tilted inquiringly. “How did the two of you meet?”
She relaxed into a smile. “It was the most amazing encounter. I was out of work at the time and just scraping a living by peddling single roses. I bought them at the markets, and prettied them up with foil paper and ribbons. I did the rounds of fancy restaurants in the evening and a lot of guys would buy one for the woman they were dining with. A romantic gesture, you know?”
He grinned. “How much did you charge?”
She grinned back, pleased he didn’t disapprove of her enterprise. “Five dollars. I figured for an elevation of mood, it was worth at least as much as a glass of wine.”
“Perfectly reasonable,” he agreed encouragingly. “I guess my grandfather couldn’t resist buying one from you.”
“Well, not exactly. He was with a large party of people at one of the restaurants I visited. Parties like that didn’t usually buy so I was concentrating on the smaller tables. Twosomes were always more promising. Your grandfather must have been watching me because he caught my eye and beckoned me to his table. To my astonishment he insisted on buying the lot, every rose in my basket. He said a pretty girl should be partying on a Saturday night and I should sit down and join his party if I had nowhere better to go.”
Beau Prescott laughed, his good humour wafting over Maggie like a seductive caress. “That sounds so typical,” he said, his green eyes dancing at her, enticing her into telling him anything he wanted to know. “Whom did he have with him?”
“It was a group of artists who’d won awards.”
“Anyone well-known?”
“I don’t really know. I never met them again.”
A slight frown.
“You could ask Sir Roland,” Maggie suggested helpfully. “He was there. I guess it was an Arts Council thing.”
“Ah!” The frown smoothed away. He smiled. “How many roses did you have left?”
“Twenty. For me it was a great sale. And then being offered free food, too...I was only too happy to sit down and join them. I ended up having a marvellous time.”
“My grandfather had a great talent for parties,” he said fondly.
“He certainly loved being the ringmaster and he did it superbly,” she warmly agreed.
They both sipped their martinis as memories lingered, their mutual affection for a grand old man subtly linking them and pushing their differences away. The silent hum of harmony filled Maggie’s heart with pleasure. This is how it should be, she thought, and imagined Vivian smiling down at them.
Beau leaned over and helped himself to an egg and caviar puff. The movement instantly restirred her awareness of the man; the fabric of his trousers tightening across a width of thigh that looked so hard and strong, Maggie’s breath caught in her throat as her mind flashed to how he might look naked, might feel against her own nakedness. She quickly shifted her gaze to his hand before a betraying blush erupted. It was just as fascinating in its maleness. A sure hand, she thought, capable of anything, and a little quiver of possibilities raced through her, further undermining her composure.
“So how did the nanny idea come up?”
The light, quizzical words shot through her ears and forced her to refocus. Maggie took a quick breath and almost gabbled in her haste to resume a natural flow of conversation.
“Oh, Vivian asked me about my life and I gave him a potted history, making it more colourful than it really was.” She shrugged. “You know how you do with strangers whom you never expect to meet again. It’s easier, more entertaining than laying out the less pleasant bits.”
“You mean you made up stuff?”
“No. What I said was true,” Maggie rushed to assure him. “I did travel with a circus...’ The moment the word was out, Maggie caught her breath, looking to see if there was an adverse reaction. Some people considered a circus unsavoury.
No frown. If anything, an increase in interest. Maggie braved going on.
“I worked as a nanny for the family who owned it. I also worked as a nanny on an outback station. I’ve done tots of other jobs, as. well, but those were the two that evoked the most interest the night I met Vivian.”
He looked bemused. “What was the name of the circus?”
“Zabini’s. It was a relatively small outfit, family owned and run. It toured country towns.”
“I would have thought that kind of thing was out of date now,” he remarked.
She nodded in quick agreement. “It was having trouble pulling in crowds when I was with it and that was over ten years ago. The problem was, the family didn’t know any other way of life. I was only with them for one tour. They didn’t need me after they went into recess so I don’t know what happened to them.”
“And that’s when you headed into the outback?”
“Yes.” She smiled ruefully. “It seemed like another adventure. I had experience as a nanny and there was plenty of employment available in that area.”
“Where did you end up?”
His obvious desire to know and the lack of any critical air released Maggie from caution. She happily painted the picture for him.
“On a big cattle station in the Northern Territory. A place called Wilgilag. Which means ‘red’ in the Aboriginal language. And it sure was. Red earth as far as the eye could see. Endless red. The cattle roamed over hundreds of square kilometres in search of feed. It was like another world. A different life.”
She caught herself back from rattling on too much and waved a dismissive hand, consigning Wilgilag to the past. “It was all a long time ago. Lots of water under the bridge since then, but that was the background of the nanny business.”
He smiled, obviously content with her explanation and amused by the situation. “I see how you could make it sound very colourful and my grandfather would have enjoyed it immensely. Did he latch on to you straight away for the nanny job?”
“No. I was really surprised when the party broke up and he gave me his card, saying if I wanted a steady job, to come and see him the next day.”
“He didn’t specify the job?”
She shook her head. “It made me wonder. But he’d been so charming. I’d liked him. And curiosity got the better of me. I couldn’t see any harm in finding out what kind of job. I mean, I wasn’t exactly doing anything wonderful, just making do until something interesting turned up.”
“Then Rosecliff must have come as another surprise to you.”
His eyes were twinkling, teasing, and his ready acceptance of everything she said was so exhilarating, Maggie didn’t feel she had to watch her tongue or manner with him anymore. Her natural exuberance came bursting forth, eyes sparkling, hands flying, words bubbling.