5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Caroline
The kitchen became easier to enter after the staff went home.
No chef stood at the long counter, guarding every pan as if Caroline might damage it by breathing too close.
No maid appeared at her elbow to take away a glass before she had finished using it.
The pale stone counters were clean, the cabinet doors were closed, and the pendant lights cast warm circles over the island.
Caroline could make a grilled cheese sandwich without an audience. It shouldn’t have felt like freedom, but it did.
She put a pan on the stove and found bread and cheese in the huge refrigerator. The baby shifted low in her stomach as she bent for the butter, and Caroline pressed one hand under the curve of her belly.
“If you’re planning a robbery, you’re doing it badly.”
At the sound of the unexpected voice, she jerked upright.
Paulie stood in the doorway eating an apple. His dark hair was a mess, and his shirt cuffs were open. He looked perfectly at home, which was impressive since Caroline hadn’t heard him enter the house.
“You scared me,” she said.
“That wasn’t my intention.” He took another bite. “It’s a pleasant bonus.”
“Where did you come from?”
He pointed vaguely toward the hall behind him. “Upstairs.”
“You were upstairs?”
“That’s generally where the bedrooms are.”
Caroline stared at him.
“When did you get here?”
“I don’t know. Several days ago?”
“You’ve been staying at the house for several days?”
“Off and on, yeah.”
“And I didn’t know?”
“Don’t take it personally. This house could hide an orchestra. I passed a maid this morning who looked surprised to see me, and I’m fairly sure she works here.”
A laugh slipped out before Caroline could stop it.
“You can’t just live in someone’s guest room without telling them.”
“I have clothes here. That gives me rights.”
“It gives you a drawer.”
“A drawer is how it begins. Soon I’ll demand voting privileges and control of the west wing.”
“We have a west wing?”
Paulie considered that. “Probably. Nobody knows. We should tie string to the staircase so we can find our way back.”
Caroline laughed again, and the tight place between her shoulders loosened.
“Does Hayden know you’re here?”
“Hayden knows I exist. He’s never been pleased about it.”
That wasn’t an answer, but Paulie had already crossed to the island and was inspecting the bread.
“Are you making one for me?” he asked.
“No.”
“Wonderful. Extra cheese, please.”
“You can make your own.”
“I don’t want to interfere with your creative process.” He leaned closer to the pan. “Is this what happens here after dark? Forbidden cooking?”
Caroline turned the sandwich.
“This is what happens when I want food that doesn’t arrive under a silver cover.”
“Scandalous.”
“I know. If anyone finds out, I’ll deny everything.”
She took another plate from the cabinet and started a second sandwich. Paulie smiled but didn’t thank her. His lack of manners should’ve annoyed her. Instead, it made the kitchen feel almost normal.
He sat on a stool and watched her spread butter on the bread.
“Why did you wait until everyone left?”
“I wanted quiet,” she said simply.
“There are thirty quiet rooms upstairs.”
“Those aren’t the same.”
He studied her, and some of the lazy amusement left his face.
“No?”
Caroline focused on the pan. The first sandwich had gone darker than she meant it to, but not enough to burn.
“Nobody’s watching me now.”
“I’m watching you.”
“You don’t count.”
“Cruel. Accurate, but cruel.”
She slid the sandwich onto his plate.
“The staff watch to see what I’ll do wrong. You watch because you’re hoping I’ll set something on fire.”
“That’s an important difference.”
“To me it is.”
Paulie didn’t reach for the plate. “Did something happen?”
“No.”
His eyebrows rose.
Caroline hated that one look could make the word sound as false as it was. She set her sandwich in the pan and turned down the heat.
“I had another etiquette lesson.”
“Ah. Training for the dangerous sport of eating.”
“Apparently I’ve been doing it recklessly my whole life.”
“Have there been casualties?”
“Not yet, but my fork hand lacks discipline.”
Paulie put down the apple. “What did the teacher say to you?”
The question was too direct. Caroline tried to shrug, but her shoulders felt stiff again.
“She set the dining table for eight and made me move through every course. There wasn’t any food. Just plates, forks, and her telling me when I’d failed.”
“You failed imaginary dinner?”
“Repeatedly. I used the wrong spoon for soup that didn’t exist.”
“A serious offense.”
“Then I put it down at the wrong angle. She said I hold my fork too tightly and cut too much at once. I passed the salt before the pepper. I folded my napkin when I was supposed to leave it loose.”
“Monster.”
Caroline smiled, but it didn’t last. “She said people can tell in thirty seconds whether someone grew up without proper standards. Then she made me walk into the room again and sit down more gracefully.”
Paulie’s expression changed. “She said that?”
“She was trying to help.”
“No. She was trying to be an ass while billing Hayden for it.”
“Paulie.”
“What? You think rich people don’t say ass?” He picked up the sandwich. “We do. We just use the correct fork afterward.”
Caroline covered a laugh with her hand.
“All of it is bullshit,” he said. “Every ridiculous rule.”
“Your mother doesn’t think so.”
“My mother thinks white flowers and cream flowers send different political messages.”
“Do they?”
“I have no idea. I’ve spent my life avoiding the front lines.”
She turned her sandwich, still smiling. “I don’t want to embarrass Hayden.”
“You don’t.”
“You saw dinner.”
“I did. The embarrassing people weren’t on your side of the table.”
The simple certainty in his voice hurt. Caroline looked down before he could see her eyes fill with tears.
“Evenings are easier,” she said. “When everyone leaves, I can eat what I want. I can walk into a room without wondering whether I should’ve changed first. I don’t have to think about where my hands are.”
“They appear to be attached to your arms.”
She glanced at him. “Thank you. That’s the first useful lesson I’ve had.”
“My fees are outrageous.”
“Send the bill to Hayden. Everyone else does.”
Paulie lifted his sandwich. “If anyone corrects you at dinner again, do this.”
He took an enormous bite, let one corner of the bread hang from his mouth, and raised his little finger as if he were drinking tea. Then he picked up the butter knife, held it like a sword, and made a stiff bow from the stool.
“Sir Paulie,” Caroline said. “Defender of terrible manners.”
He pulled the bread from his mouth. “My greatest honor.”
She was laughing when she noticed someone behind him.
Hayden stood in the kitchen doorway.
Relief warmed her first. He was home. She hadn’t known when to expect him, and some foolish part of her had been listening for him since the light began to fade outside.
Then she saw his face.
His tie was loose and his dark hair had been disturbed by his fingers. Tired lines marked the skin around his eyes. He looked from Paulie to Caroline, then to the plates on the island.
The laughter died in her throat.
“Hayden,” she said. “We didn’t hear you.”
“Clearly.”
Paulie turned on the stool. “You’re just in time. Caroline has been appointed to the royal court, and I’m explaining the rules.”
“What are you doing here?” Hayden asked.
“Eating your cheese.”
“Get out.”
Paulie’s smile stayed in place for a moment. “I haven’t finished.”
“Then take it with you.”
Caroline set down the spatula. “Hayden, what’s wrong?”
He didn’t look at her. His attention stayed on his brother. “I said get out.”
Paulie rose slowly. “You’re in a mood.”
“And you’re in my house.”
“I’m frequently in your house.”
“Not tonight.”
The easy slouch left Paulie’s body. He looked at Caroline, then back at Hayden.
“We were having a sandwich,” he said, his voice betraying confusion.
“I’m not interested in what you were having.”
“Maybe you should be interested in why your wife needed someone to make her laugh.”
Hayden’s jaw tightened. “Leave, Paulie.”
For once, Paulie didn’t answer. He picked up his plate, seemed to think better of it, then put it down again. He walked past Hayden and disappeared into the hall.
Caroline switched off the burner. The sandwich in the pan had turned too dark on one side. She moved it to her plate because looking at it was easier than looking at her husband.
“What happened?” she asked again.
“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
She looked up. “I was.”
“I noticed.”
The cold edge in his voice made her stomach pull tight.
“Paulie said he’s been staying here. I didn’t even know.”
“But you were happy to entertain him once you found out.”
“Entertain him?” She glanced at the two sandwiches, one half eaten, the other burned. “I cooked him bread and cheese.”
“You always find him very funny.”
“Sometimes he is funny.”
“He flirts with you in front of me. He makes a joke of everything, and you encourage him.”
Caroline stared at Hayden. “Paulie flirts with everyone. He’d flirt with a mailbox if he thought it would annoy somebody.”
“You enjoy it.”
“I don’t take it seriously.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
She tried to understand what he wanted from her. An apology for laughing? A promise never to make his brother a sandwich? The man in front of her had the same dark eyes and neat beard as the man who’d held her the night before, but the warmth was gone.
“My etiquette lesson was awful,” she said. “Paulie made me laugh about it. That’s all.”
“How fortunate he was here,” Hayden said sarcastically.
“You’re the one who wasn’t.” The words came out before she could stop them. She fought the urge to cover her mouth with her hand. She would’ve taken them back if she could.
Hayden went still. “I was working.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“What does that mean?”
He crossed the kitchen and stopped on the other side of the island.
“Apparently you have plenty to occupy you when I’m gone. My brother. Plans with your mother.”
Caroline frowned. “What plans?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”