Chapter 2 #3
He took her hand, embracing it within both of his.
“Then you’ll be ridiculously pleased as our current head count is twenty-two.
However, only fourteen of us will actually dine together, and that number includes Zander.
” He looked at the scars that marred the back of her hand.
“Your house is entirely wired, Amanda, as I’m sure you’re aware.
As am I, and all of our men,” he told her, pointing to his left ear. “We’re all just a call away.”
He walked from the room with Evan following him, which left only the girls and Zander. Amanda hugged Callie closer as Sam joined them on the sectional, then she reached back out for her baby. Helen deposited him back in her arms.
Sam stroked Amanda’s forehead. “How are you, Ammy? Really?”
Samantha was the best best friend. Ever. Memory loss aside, that she knew. And also that Sam only used “Ammy” when it was really important.
“Sore. Tired. And missing some things.” She rolled her eyes toward her forehead. “Like upstairs.”
Sam laughed. “It’ll come back and you’ll be feeling better in no time. You just need some rest.”
When Amanda woke up later, neither Zander nor Callie were anywhere to be seen, but Sam was reading next to her and she could hear male voices coming from the bar. She noticed that the sun was making a beautiful, picture-perfect descent outside, and jeez, she must have slept for a good few hours.
“She’s up,” Sam announced.
“Good, let’s eat.” Mr. Montgomery’s reply carried from across the room. He was at her side a moment later and reached down to assist her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and helping her from the sofa. “Can you manage?” he asked quietly in her ear.
She turned her head and told him just as softly, “I’m going to try.”
“Then let’s do this, sweetheart.”
That startled her. Sweetheart? She remembered that he’d called her sweetheart in the hospital.
There was nothing placating or sexist in the way he said it, though.
It was as if he’d dubbed her that nickname and it fit perfectly.
Which was a really weird thought. She’d been home only a day now, so maybe she was still under the influence of what they’d given her in the hospital.
She did feel oddly comfortable with him, though. She couldn’t say why, she just did.
Mr. Montgomery stayed by her side as their large procession slowly made its way to the kitchen.
“Why did Callie call you Admiral?” Amanda asked as they continued down the hallway.
“It’s my rank,” he said, not looking at her.
“You’re really an admiral?” she asked, not knowing quite what being an admiral meant, just that it was impressive.
“I was.”
“Wow. Here in the States?”
He looked at Evan before he answered. “British Royal Navy.”
“Admiral of the White,” she added without thought. Where did that come from? “Wait. How do I know that?” she asked.
“You’re terribly smart, Amanda,” he said, suppressing a smile.
She put a hand on his chest when he would have ushered them forward. Was her memory wrong? “No, I mean you are an Admiral of the White.”
“Admirals of the White don’t exist any longer.”
Amanda shook her head. “Maybe I’m getting confused.
My father bought an estate in Abersoch years ago.
As a young girl, I loved to travel there.
Honestly, it was one of my most favorite places on earth.
” Her eyes widened with realization. “You share a name with one of its ancestors. I wonder if you’re related. ”
Mr. Montgomery only stared. The man was utterly still. Then she realized how quiet it had become. She looked at Sam for a cue.
“What? Don’t you remember?” Amanda had definitely talked about it with her best friend before. She’d been fascinated with the Montgomerys as a teenager.
“Come on, Sam. I researched everything I could on that castle—oh! And I remember now. That story I found, so intriguing, but so sad.” Amanda was on a roll now, her memories of being a girl poring over books in the estate coming back to her.
“It was about one of the original descendants’ great-great-great-grandsons, Alexander Montgomery. ”
She jabbed Mr. Montgomery’s chest playfully. “Isn’t that incredible?”
“Yes, incredible, Amanda,” Mr. Montgomery said, nodding.
Amanda was so excited to have remembered something like that, she didn’t mind being pulled along once again as they made their way to dinner.
Instead of stopping in the kitchen, however, they continued through the French doors to the terrace where the long, glass-topped wrought-iron table was impeccably set.
It looked beautiful; linen placemats with china plates, silver cutlery, crystal glasses, and cloth napkins created picture-perfect settings.
Rosa and a couple of young men began to bring platters outside and place them on the runner that ran the length of the center.
Mr. Montgomery pulled out a chair for her as everyone took their seats. “Good?”
“Very,” Amanda said, sinking down into the chair.
Helen came in with Zander. Stan, too, with Callie on his hip.
Overnight, she realized, her previous entourage of four had become an entire troupe.
Mr. Montgomery and his men had seemingly taken over, but if Stan and Sam were okay with them, then she knew she had nothing to worry about.
Jeez, even overprotective Rosa seemed okay.
Mr. Montgomery took the seat next to her at the head of the table, looking like he belonged there.
His brother sat to his left, Sam next to him, and Evan took the other seat next to her.
Callie was at the other end where Stan, Rosa, and Helen were talking with four men she hadn’t yet met, but one looked vaguely familiar, though she couldn’t figure out why.
“Amanda,” Mr. Montgomery said, “may I introduce Gregor, Chris, Trevor, and Michael.” Each bowed their head in greeting. “Gregor holds the keys after my brother and me. Chris is my attorney and head counsel for Calder Defense. Tre—”
“Wait.” Amanda put her hand on his forearm. “I thought you bought JDL from Art Fisher?” Something seemed off and she felt a moment of panic for the first time since Mr. Montgomery had come into her life the day before.
“You’re correct, Amanda,” Montgomery said, assuring her. “I did purchase JDL. I also changed the name.”
She looked to Stan, who nodded, then smiled in relief. “Carry on then, Admiral.”
He grinned and gestured to the two men he’d yet to introduce. “Trevor, tech genius from London. And Michael, weaponry expert, also from London. Brothers, and both of whom I stumbled upon and have yet to shake.”
She leaned in. “Stumbled upon?”
“Seedy back alley storefront outside of London.”
“What on earth brought you there?” she asked, intrigued.
“I…” He paused as if searching for the right words. “I was tracking someone.”
“And just what did you come across at this seedy back alley storefront?” Amanda asked.
She watched as Montgomery looked to Evan, who gave a curt nod. Strange.
“The storefront was just that, a front. It hid a high-tech document lab,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed for a moment. She felt like something was there and she just couldn’t grasp it. She looked at Sam. “What is it, sweetie?” Sam asked. “Remember something?”
Amanda shrugged and shook her head as nothing pressing came to mind, then gave her attention back to Mr. Montgomery. He wouldn’t get off so easily. “So, tell me, Admiral, what kind of documents might one procure from such an establishment?”
“The person—persons,” he corrected, “I was searching for had purchased birth certificates, passports, and adoption papers. So, those. As well as any and all corresponding and essential background files that would be necessary to accompany such documents.”
“Ooh, that sounds intriguing. Did you find them?”
“I have.”
“So, what’s the story?”
“Still unfolding.”
“Well, it sounds fascinating. Will you keep me posted?”
“I will.”
She sensed she’d reached the limit of his disclosure and moved on to another of her curiosities. “By the by, Admiral,” she said, injecting a bit of Brit as she raised her brows and motioned with her head toward Trevor and Michael at the other end of the table. “They’re terribly young, aren’t they?”
He grinned. “Yes, they are. Trevor’s only twenty-two. But when you add genius, and mean it, to any title, it’s usually a gift and comes with such implications. He’s particularly mouthy, however.”
She laughed. “And Michael?”
“Michael is almost twenty-seven. He just looks like a boy. Mouthy, too, in a different way.”
Platters started being passed at will. Rosa had made an exceptionally special meal—lamb chops and bronzini, potatoes and rice, vegetables, salad, and baguettes all but spilled from their serving pieces.
Conversations began, were interrupted, and restarted too many times to count.
It was table pandemonium of the best kind.
It felt like they’d had dinners like this forever.
There was something about the cadence of Mr. Montgomery’s voice that Amanda found comforting. She racked her frustratingly foggy brain, trying to reach something oddly familiar that lay just beyond her grasp.
She was aware that Mr. Montgomery was watching her intently, remaining quiet, as if he could somehow know that he might stop a memory from returning, but she didn’t look up or shift her gaze.
The moment passed and she shook her head at him to let him know, before turning her attention back to Sam and Stephen, who were arguing about veal, of all things.
Apparently, Stephen ate it and Sam had very strong opinions about it.
As they began to slow down a bit, eating that is, Evan asked, “So, Amanda…what else do you remember about the descendants of your British estate?”