Chapter 33 #5
A montage of Erik’s involvement with the family flashed through Clay’s brain, and he settled on one image.
Erik, unflinching, hands gripping the helm of his fifty-foot sailboat, feeling the James River’s spray.
He was a man with an ocean in his blood, capable of charting courses like the colonizing English ships, yet confined to the river, and now, perhaps, to memory alone.
Clay wanted to climb a mountain to clear his mind, but he couldn’t. His job now was to write the story—the true story—if he could find it buried in his notes and sketches.
“So that’s how you do it. Travel, I mean.” Kaitlyn’s voice was low and awed. “It was so quick.”
Bastien let out a huge breath. “Damn. I’m glad he’s gone. I kept expecting him to turn on us, but you were so engrossed in the questions and answers that you didn’t realize what a threat he posed. But he never scared you.”
“I noticed that, too,” Marcelle said. “Erik is scary and intense, but you were never afraid.”
Clay had a sudden stab of bittersweet nostalgia. “I knew he wouldn’t hurt us.”
“Will you give us some background information on the questions you asked? I got lost, not knowing the family history,” Marcelle said.
“I even know a few of the people, but I was still confused,” Bastien said.
“Here it is in a snapshot. Erik orchestrated an elaborate ruse to make us believe he was an alien and was gone for good. Now he’s saying he’s from the future, and he’s back again.”
“If Erik comes from a matriarchal society, that has to be hell for an alpha male,” Bastien said. “And I couldn’t figure out his relationship to Violet. Do you understand it?”
“No, I don’t. At first, we thought Erik and Violet were siblings. Then we discovered that wasn’t true. Then we thought they were the greatest lovers since Cleopatra and Mark Antony, or Napoleon and Josephine, or Romeo and Juliet.”
“None of those ended happily,” Marcelle said.
“How can you have a serious relationship with someone like him?” Bastien asked.
“How can you have a serious relationship with someone like Violet?” Clay asked. “But ask me later when we’re alone, and I’ll tell you what I heard about Erik and women.”
“If you’re telling juicy stories, I want to hear them,” Kaitlyn said.
“It puts the Kama Sutra to shame. I’ll tell Bastien, and he can tell you.”
Bastien chuckled. Marcelle blushed, but Kaitlyn didn’t react. Clay sensed it wasn’t because she hadn’t heard of the book, but because she had. He took a few minutes to sketch Erik sitting in the chair. A few minutes later, he asked Marcelle. “Do you have anything to add to this?”
She took the journal and moved to the desk lamp. “The wrinkles on the sides of Erik’s mouth aren’t as deep as you’re showing, and there’s no gray in his hair.”
“That’s odd,” Clay said. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. You know Erik and have seen him recently. Maybe you were drawing what you expected to see,” Marcelle said.
Clay stared at the drawing, trying to figure out what he’d drawn and why. “I’ve never intentionally added details that weren’t there.” That made Clay question the other sketches. Did he draw them accurately? He erased lines and some of the shading, then showed the sketch to her again.
“It looks exactly like him now?”
“I guess I wanted to see the version of Erik I met in January before his and Violet’s disappearing act.
” Clay held out his glass. “How about a short pour, and then I’m going to bed?
It’s been a long day.” Clay craned his neck and then rotated it to ease the tightness.
“When we have fresh eyes, will you look at the other sketches? I may have projected what I wanted to see rather than what I actually saw. If that’s true, I need to redraw all the sketches before showing any of them to Elliott. ”
“Sure. Let’s do it right after breakfast.” Marcelle walked around the room, putting it back together, fluffing pillows, and picking up glasses. “Kaitlyn, you can stay in my room tonight. There are probably extra rooms, but I don’t think we should go exploring to find one.”
“Could I also borrow a nightgown?”
“You can borrow whatever you need.”
“Bastien, you can stay with me,” Clay said.
Bastien frowned at Kaitlyn. “I’ll make it up to you.”
Clay caught the longing in Bastien’s eyes and the identical look in Kaitlyn’s. They were lovers—already. Damn, Bastien worked fast. Clay had barely kissed Marcelle, and her brother was sleeping with a woman he had met a few days earlier.
Kaitlyn and Marcelle linked arms and left the room, whispering, leaving Bastien and Clay without hugs or goodnight kisses.
“We can’t predict a relationship’s evolution at its beginning, but from the looks of those two women, they couldn’t care less about us,” Clay said.
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll be the only topic of conversation.”
“You think so?”
“I do. Because one of those women is my sister. When she was a teenager, she and her girlfriends would often get together and talk about boys. And since Kaitlyn isn’t a musician, they won’t be talking about a setlist.”
“You sound like Remy.”
“I wonder why?”
Clay chuckled. “It’ll be interesting having both of you around.
You’re like bookends. Sort of like Braham and Cullen when they were younger.
They were born in 1824, immigrated to the United States, attended law school, and established a practice in San Francisco.
Now they’re both at Mallory Plantation.”
“Eighteen twenty-four?”
“You’d never know they were from another time. Braham was even a special agent for President Lincoln.”
“That’s impressive.” Bastien turned out the lights and walked toward the hallway. “I want to hear that story.”
“Braham had a hell of a time recovering from Lincoln’s death,” Clay said, following Bastien out into the hall. “When we get back, you can read about the adventures in the after-action reports. The family has been through hell and back, rescuing the clan’s kick-ass women.”
“How many adventures have there been?”
“This one makes thirteen in almost thirty years, and five have taken place in the last year. The family’s tired and ready for a break. That’s why everyone was excited about going to New Orleans.”
“How many have you been on?”
“This is my second, and I’d go again.”
“My leg will always be a weak link. Count me out.” Bastien started up the stairs. “You know, even though I’ll have gigs every night, it’ll be fun taking Kaitlyn to New Orleans. She’s never traveled outside of New York City.”
“Don’t worry about her. Marcelle and a dozen other women will take her shopping and to a full-service spa for a complete makeover.”
“Not sure how I feel about that. I like Kaitlyn the way she is.”
They reached the landing on the second floor, and Clay pointed toward his room. “Charlotte and Braham will give you some land on the plantation to build a house if you want to live there. I’m building one now.”
“I’ll probably stay in Richmond.”
“That’s fine, but Kaitlyn might enjoy living closer to the other women in the family at first. They’ll help her adjust, and Tony will want to be close to Roisin and Phin.”
“Do they live there now?”
“They split their time between the plantation and the wineries in Italy, and Roisin has a studio on the plantation. She designs and makes clothes and even altered 1920s suits for Remy and me to wear to Chicago.”
“I designed my house in Richmond for my specific needs. Kaitlyn and I will live there. Plus, Marcelle will want to live in Richmond, assuming she takes that job.”
Clay wasn’t so sure Marcelle or Kaitlyn would want to live in the city.
If they wanted to really understand the clan’s tangled roots, they needed to immerse themselves in the chaotic life at the plantation.
“I’m going to encourage Marcelle to stay in a suite at the plantation for now, and it’s not that far from Richmond.
” Clay opened the door to his room. “The bathroom is through there. You’ll find sweatpants and T-shirts.
Help yourself. I’m going to go back through my notes to make sure I can read them while they’re fresh in my mind. ”
Bastien removed his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair. “Did you make notes on all the questions you asked? If you did, I could help you reconstruct the answers.”
Clay sat at the writing desk and removed his pencils and journal. “I wrote them down. The answers, though, are in sketches. With you and Marcelle reviewing my work, I’m confident we’ll get it as accurate as possible.”
Bastien peeled off his tie and tossed it onto the jacket. It immediately fell onto the floor, where it would likely stay unless Clay picked it up.
“Kaitlyn can help, too,” Bastien said. “She could’ve been at the defense table during a trial. Her attention was laser-focused. She didn’t miss a word or the changes in Erik’s body language.”
Clay kicked off his shoes. “She probably noticed a lot that I didn’t. Her input will be invaluable.”
Bastien untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it. “Tony raised her to be like Kenzie McBain, maybe hoping one day she’d go to the future. If she goes back to school, there’ll be no stopping her.”
“Once Elliott realizes how extraordinary she is, he’ll move mountains for her.
” Clay picked up a pencil and drew a mountain with a rope tied around it, Kaitlyn standing on top, and Elliott holding onto the ends.
Clay suddenly got a sense of the woman Bastien had fallen in love with.
Of all the people who had joined the family over the years, Kaitlyn’s presence might be the most significant.