Chapter Four
Cilla jammed her hand pruners into her back pocket, pulled off her gardening gloves, and swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. The sweet scent of roses surrounded her. The property was known for its ivy—hence the name—but the roses had been her grandmother’s pride and joy.
Eleanor Foster Wainwright had been an imposing, no-nonsense southern lady with impeccable taste and style, but she’d had a heart as big as the ocean and had taken young Cilla in hand, teaching her how to grow and tend a garden.
Most of the good things she’d learned in her life had come from her Grandmother Eleanor.
She’d had a garden when she’d been married, but her ex had employed a gardener to care for it.
According to him, Christopher Hughson’s wife didn’t do menial labor.
It didn’t matter that gardening brought her joy.
Image was all-important. What would the neighbors or clients think if they saw her digging in the dirt?
It was permissible to cut flowers for an arrangement, but anything else was forbidden.
Snorting, she stood and began to deadhead the next rosebush. She’d given up far too much in an attempt to make her ex happy and her marriage work. She’d be damned if she’d allow him to take anything else from her.
The garden fed her soul in ways she couldn’t explain. It wasn’t only the plants and trees; it was the history of the place. These were her roots, her home. The place she’d been the happiest and found peace and purpose.
The unexpected letter was his latest attempt to undermine her. She might have given up the fight to save her marriage, but she’d never stop fighting to save her home.
A shadow fell across her. Expecting it to be Rosa, she looked up, only to frown at the sight of her brother. So much for peace and quiet.
“Digging in the dirt. Really, Priscilla. Don’t you have staff to take care of this?”
God, he and Christopher were two peas in a pod. “My place, my problem. And I prefer Cilla.” She considered walking away, but the satisfaction would be short-lived. He wouldn’t go away until he’d said whatever it was he’d come to say.
“It’s ridiculous to shorten a perfectly good name.
” He whipped off his sunglasses and slipped them into the inner pocket of his impeccably tailored pearl-gray summer suit.
The shirt beneath was a slightly darker tone.
The tie picked up both colors in a subtle stripe.
He looked exactly like the successful lawyer he was.
“My name. My choice. What do you want, Richard?”
“Let’s go inside and talk.” He turned toward the house, but she remained where she was.
His lips drew into a thin, disapproving line. He glanced at his watch, his impatience palpable. “I don’t have time to wait while you dawdle. Bad enough I had to make the drive here.”
The muscles in her stomach cramped. Tension crept into her shoulders. Whenever they were together, it was always the same. He found fault with everything she said or did.
“It was your choice to come. No one made you.”
“I’ve asked you repeatedly to come to my office in Asheville.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I have a business to run. You’re busy, but so am I.” And she’d honestly wanted to avoid this conversation.
The only time he’d mildly approved of her was when she’d been married to Christopher. That had ended when she’d filed for divorce.
His hazel eyes narrowed and his mouth twisted into a sneer. “Please, don’t compare this little enterprise to my law firm.” He’d taken over their father’s law practice but had grown it substantially, making it even more prosperous, his clients among the rich and politically connected in the state.
“If you’ve come all this way to do nothing but disparage me and Ivy House, you can leave.
” She wanted to love her brother, but right now, she didn’t like him one bit.
He was a bully. Worse, she’d been letting him get away with it her entire life.
His attitude toward her was as much on her as it was him.
“You’ve changed since the divorce.”
Although he meant it in a negative way, she shot him a sweet smile. “Good of you to notice.”
“Since you’re in one of your moods”—that’s what he called it whenever she stood up to him—“let’s get down to business.”
“We don’t have any business.” Their father had left his entire estate to Richard with the understanding he would provide for and guide her—their father’s words—until she’d finished school.
The exception had been the money set aside for her education, which had come from her mother’s estate.
She’d been grateful for that much. It had allowed her to pursue the degree of her choice and not the one Richard had tried to pressure her into.
“I’m prepared to offer you a more than fair price for the house and surrounding hundred acres of land. You could invest the money, get a real job, and live comfortably without having to lower yourself to menial labor.” He waved a hand at the garden.
“Gee, tell me what you really think.”
“Your sarcasm is noted and not appreciated.” He always treated her as though she was a hostile witness he was cross-examining in court. “It’s a good offer. One any intelligent person would at least consider.”
“So now I’m not intelligent. Fine.” She tilted her head to one side and counted off ten seconds. “I’ve considered it. My answer to you is the same one I’ve given you every other time you asked. I’m not interested in selling.”
“It’s a mouldering pile of lumber.”
“If you think so little of it, why do you want it so badly?”
“I’m looking out for your best interests. Is that so difficult to believe?”
Guilt threatened to crush her, but she refused to buckle beneath it. Reminding her of how much he’d done for her was his tried and true method to manipulate her.
“I know you think it’s for the best, but it’s not.” The continued persistence didn’t make sense. “You’ve never shown any interest in Ivy House. Why now?” The sudden pressure to sell made no sense.
“You left a perfectly good marriage and buried yourself here. You had everything—an acceptable husband, an excellent education, and an opportunity to use your position to do some good. You turned your back on it all.”
Something in his tone made her stomach churn.
“You’ve spoken with Christopher.” It shouldn’t come as a surprise.
They were longtime friends, after all. The letter she’d received earlier suddenly made a sick kind of sense.
“Christopher is contesting the ownership of the property. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?
” The sense of betrayal struck to the core of her being.
“It’s a house, Priscilla, but you’re determined to turn it into a shrine to a damn dead woman.” The venom in his tone shocked her.
“Did you love our grandmother even a little?” They hadn’t been close, not like she and Grandmother Eleanor, but this was the first time he’d spoken of her with outright contempt.
“I didn’t like or dislike her. Unlike you, she wasn’t a part of my life.”
“That was your choice. You stopped coming here.” Their father had always sent both her and Richard here when they were young, while he’d remained in the city. They’d been such happy times for her.
“I remember big Thanksgiving dinners and opening presents beneath the tree in the living room at Christmas.” They were some of the best memories of her life.
“You were the one who chose to spend the holidays with friends or alone once you turned eighteen. Every year until she died, Grandmother invited you for the holidays. She would have welcomed you with open arms. She missed you. We both did.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. “I was busy building a career, something neither of you appreciated. All you cared about was this place. She was our father’s mother.
Our great-great-grandfather purchased this land.
I have as much claim to it as you. You’re sitting on prime real estate, and it’s going to waste. ”
It wasn’t what he said, but something in his tone had her stomach knotting. “Richard, what have you done?”
“I’ve purchased the land surrounding Ivy House.”
“What? I haven’t heard anything about this.” And surely she would have. This was a small town and people talked. Something this big wouldn’t have remained a secret.
“I’ve been quietly doing it for years, using a real estate development company Christopher and I started back in college. We’ve amassed a large swath of land, but we’re missing one vital piece.”
And the blows kept on coming. “Were you planning on trying to drive our grandmother out of Ivy House?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Father assured me the property would come to me when Grandmother passed. I was content to wait.”
“Gee, that’s big of you.” The worst part was he truly believed it was magnanimous on his part.
“Inheriting our father’s business, real estate, investments, and money wasn’t enough?
Now you want to take what’s mine.” Richard had always valued wealth and status, but this grasping avarice was something she’d never seen before.
Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to see it. “Must have come as a shock to discover she’d changed her will and left the property to me. ”
“If you’d remained married to Christopher, it wouldn’t have been a problem. As your husband, he would have been able to guide you.”
“Guide me? What century are you living in?” Although he wasn’t totally wrong. She’d been so desperate to be loved she might have caved under the pressure. Thank heavens she’d divorced Christopher before her grandmother passed.
He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken, “It’s time for that long-term investment to pay off.
We have a developer interested in putting a luxury resort on the property.
The untouched wilderness, pristine lake, quaint nearby town, and proximity to larger centers make it an ideal location, but only if it’s a complete parcel.
It would bring jobs and prosperity to the entire town. ”