Laura set the carafe down and moved to him, standing by his side, slipping her hand in his and waiting for the slings and arrows. The looks of repugnance.
They never came.
"Hello, Mr. Blackthorne," Mark said, walking slowly up to him. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you." They shook hands as Mark introduced himself, his partner, then the others. Richard smiled and nodded, all the while wondering when it would start. When the pain would begin. But nothing happened. Nothing.
When Mark came to the newlyweds, he stumbled over their names.
"Gary and Lisa Tolar," the young woman said. "We're on our honeymoon."
"Hell of a reception you got, huh?" Richard said, and the couple smiled.
Abruptly, glass shattered, spraying the floor behind them all. Richard rushed around the people and furniture, pulling the drapes over the break in the French door. "Mark, in the mudroom is a hammer, nails and some wood planks."
The police officer ran to get them, and he and Richard secured the window, then decided it was best to cover the entire set of doors.
Laura swept the glass as the policemen moved the furniture back from the windows. Richard strode near and knelt with the dustpan. When he straightened, she took the dustpan, and without a word or a glance, went to the kitchen to empty it.
He frowned at her back. Something was wrong, and a niggling of apprehension slithered through him. But he didn't have the chance to talk to her, to get her alone for a moment. There were too many people around. And Richard admitted that he was having a hard time getting used to being near them and slipped into his library. Mark was lounging on the sofa, reading.
The young policeman stood, flushing. "I'm sorry to go nosing around. But this library is incredible." He waved to the shelves of books.
"Borrow whatever you like, Mark. What good are all these books if no one enjoys them?" He crossed to a small lowboy and lifted a decanter.
"This is a first edition."
Richard glanced at the title and the old leather-bound book. "I imagine the author would be quite pleased someone is still reading his work. Feel free."
Richard splashed a bit of brandy into a glass, offering some to the young man. Mark shook his head, claiming to still be on duty.
Richard slipped behind the desk and into the leather chair. For a moment he remembered seeing Laura here, sifting through the papers of his past, the photos, and wearing very little. He wished this storm was over and he could take her to his bed.
He shifted in the chair.
"People were scared of you."
"I know."
"No reason to be, though."
Richard arched a brow.
Mark suddenly loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, spreading it to show burn scars that covered his chest and shoulder and that were barely visible at the collar of his shirt. "I know how you feel."
Richard slowly lowered the glass.
"I was curious over which of us was worse," Mark said.
"Think it's about equal." Richard gestured to the chair near the desk, kicking it out. "If I may ask, how did it happen?"
The young policeman settled into the chair, buttoning his shirt back up, as he said, "I was married at the time, not out of the police academy two years. I was serving in Orangeburg when we got the call of a fire in the boys' town. It's an orphanage for troubled kids. Anyway, I was the first on the scene…"
* * *
For two more days, Hurricane Helen threw a tantrum, then moved north, leaving behind bright sunlight and enough damage to keep everyone busy for a while. On the cool morning, the guests departed and Laura knew she'd made some new friends, while Richard had formed some sort of kinship with the young police officer, Mark. It pleased her. When she woke the following morning and found Richard making Kelly breakfast, Laura experienced a hard pang of regret. He didn't need her anymore. Nor did Kelly. Heck, the child was dressed in appropriate clothes, her long dark hair brushed and clipped in barrettes.
"Good morning," Richard said, and his expression fell at the look in her eyes.
Laura forced a bright smile. "Good morning, you two."
Kelly twisted in her chair, a piece of bacon hanging out of her mouth. Laura snatched it off, ate it, then kissed the child good morning.
"Did you sleep okay?" Richard asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She'd nodded off the instant they'd slipped into bed, and in the morning, as she had done since they they'd started sharing a bed, she'd gone to her room. He wanted to wake with her in his arms.
"Yes, fine. I didn't realize I was so tired."
"You were incredible with all those people," he said
She looked at him over the rim of her cup. "So were you."
Was that sadness he saw in her eyes, he wondered, placing a plate of toast before Kelly.