The Lauderhill Legacy

Chapter 14 - PRESENT DAY

Walter was yawning and losing his concentration. If it hadn't been for the fact that Marcee was sitting so close and her fragrant scent wafted across his face with every motion of her head, he would have nodded off. The book had been covered from beginning to end and there was still no discernible clue as to what the strange phrase ascribed to.

The web material was interesting, showing a family history worthy of a steamy period novel that trailed back into the eighteenth century but after reading so much about so many, the subject was losing its allure.

Marcee put the material on the coffee table and leaned back, stretching. The act woke Walter with a start and he unintentionally turned to stare at her out thrust chest. She looked at him and their eyes held for a long time, each probing as deep as possible into the other's thoughts.

"I guess we should call it a night," She finally said, dropping her arms and sitting forward.

Walter looked at his watch and made a choking sound. "It's almost time to call it day," he said. "It's three-thirty!"

"Oh my God!" She stood and looked at the kitchen clock. "Oh Walter, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize..."

"Well you're not alone." He yawned again, finishing with a sharp grunt.

"Look, you can stay here—on the sofa." She clasped her fingers together and shrugged. "I can get you a pillow and some sheets."

He stifled another yawn and thought about the possibilities. "I'd sure feel better than driving back across town tonight, that is if you really don't mind."

"No. Not at all. I'll put this stuff away and get the bedding. You ah- you can wash up while you're waiting."

Walter went down the hall past her bedroom to the bathroom and shut the door, leaning on the sink and examining his motives by studying his face in the mirror. Get serious, Hayes, the woman's your cousin as far as everyone's concerned. He washed his face and dried then used a finger to brush his teeth with her toothpaste. Marcee just finished tucking a sheet around the cushions when he returned.

"I can do that stuff," he said, picking up the pillow and fluffing it before dropping it on the arm of the sofa. "I appreciate this, Marcee. I just hope it's not a bother."

"Don't be silly." She fussed a little more and then stood awkwardly before giving him a little wave goodnight and backing down the hallway, her face heating. She shut her bedroom door and leaned against it. "What was that?" She scolded herself. "A stupid teenage wave, and blushing afterwards?"

She went to her cupboard and got out her t-shirt that she wore to bed and stripped down, still mortified and angry at her behaviour... and her feelings. They had been simmering on and off during the cleaning and sale of the house and she was beginning to wonder if she was actually nurturing feelings for her distant relative.

The extra effort she'd put into the evening's meal rang loudly in the back of her mind. The idea angered her more as she sneaked a peek out of her bedroom doorway before scurrying down to the bathroom.

*****

Morning arrived with Marcee tiptoeing past the sprawled Walter to the kitchen. His bare leg was hanging out from under the sheet and she paused, worried that he might be naked under the sheet. She looked for his pile of clothes and didn't see any shorts so she allowed herself to relax a little as she quietly began making coffee and slicing some bread for toast.

Marcee and men—steady men—had not been a factor in her life. Not that she was opposed to a domestic relationship, it was just the idea of giving up a completely free will to do and act as she pleased. On top of which, she enjoyed her job at the travel agency a lot and was on the brink of starting her own agency, particularly now that with the inheritance and the sale of a lot of her grandmother's furniture, she would have enough to start up.

The sound of the coffee pot gurgling brought Walter out of his sleep and he sat up rubbing his eyes and running his hands through his hair. The next sound made him suddenly alert as he found himself facing Marcee, who had peeked around to see if he was still asleep. Her tiny yelp made them both start when she saw him in his underwear and he realized the same thing with his own loud groan.

"Sorry, Walter," she called from back in the kitchen.

"Not your fault." He hurried into his pants and grabbed his shirt before heading down the hall.

Marcee poured the coffee and set a couple of plates on the table as she waited for him to come back and when he did there was a moment of embarrassed grins and more apologies.

"I guess that's the penalty for having guys crash on your couch." Walter stirred some milk into his coffee.

She laughed. "Especially when they don't stay under the covers."

Walter stared hard at her, his cheek muscle rippling as he stopped stirring and kept looking at her.

"What? What's wrong?" She felt her face colour thinking that she'd said something amiss.

"Under the covers." Walter got up and went to the living room, returning a moment later with the book. "I think that's what the message meant, Marcee. All between the covers?" He ran his fingers over the lining and smiled eagerly. "Five bucks says your secret is under this lining."

Her mouth dropped as she looked at the book and a second later she had a knife from the drawer and was watching Walter carefully slice into the edge of the paper lining.

"I think we've got something here," he said sliding a delicate piece of parchment out of the opening. He handed it to Marcee and waited patiently as she cautiously unfolded the brittle paper and gently pressed it as flat as possible on the table.

"It's another letter," she said, with a touch of desolation. "It's pretty faded and hard to make out." She leaned down and slowly began to read the contents aloud.