“Yes,” she answered.
“What you’ve done to this little house is marvelous,” Isla said to Mrs. Frazier. “Please tell me you aren’t your own interior designer.”
“I purchased a few things that belonged to my husband’s family,” Mrs. Frazier said modestly.
“Mother, you bought everything that the first Frazier could possibly have touched,” Colin said.
“Shamus,” Gemma said, and everyone turned to look at her.
“Yes, my youngest son,” Mrs. Frazier said. “I didn’t realize you’d met him.”
Kirk said, “Delightful young man. I’m a great admirer of his accomplishments.”
“I think Gemma means the original Shamus,” Colin said. “The one who helped found Edilean.”
Again, everyone looked at her, and she nodded. She was so nervous she could hardly speak. Her deep desire for the job was making her tongue-tied.
“Where did you hear of him?” Mrs. Frazier asked.
Gemma took a deep breath. “The name was in the history of Edilean on the town Web site and in the genealogy of your family. I was wondering what happened to cause the break in the generation after him. I searched the Internet and found where the family house had been repurchased in the late eighteenth century by the son of the American settlers, Shamus and Prudence Frazier. But then the surname was changed back to Lancaster, and there was no more mention of ‘Frazier.’ Was the separation caused by the distance between America and England, or did something else cause the rift?”
When she stopped talking she saw the way Mrs. Frazier, Isla, and Kirk were staring at her. Behind them, Colin’s eyes were sparkling, as though he was enjoying everything.
Gemma took a step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious, is all.”
“Yes, well,” Mrs. Frazier said as she turned to Isla. “As for your question, I didn’t use a decorator.”
“But it looks like such a professional job. Do you mind if we see the living room again?” Isla gave Gemma a look that said she’d just lost the job.
“Of course.” Mrs. Frazier left the room first, Isla close behind her.
“Put your foot in that one, didn’t you?” Kirk said to Gemma, then left.
When they were alone in the room, Gemma looked at Colin. “Me and my big mouth! Why didn’t I ask about the rug or the desk?”
“Because you couldn’t care less about them.”
“True, but I should have pretended to . . .” She paused. “I’m going in there and try to make your mother believe I’m not the world’s rudest person.” Gemma stopped in the doorway. “Quick! Tell me something she likes.”
“Right now, my father’s aristocratic relatives are her great passion.”
“But I just—” Her eyes widened.
“Right. You asked about them and showed that you’ve already done quite a bit of research on your own.”
Gemma stood there blinking at him. “But she’s more interested in talking about decorating with Isla.”
“I thought so too, but that was before I saw her face as she listened to you. My mother hates for anyone to know what she’s up to. Let me borrow your notebook.”
“But—”
“Trust me, please.”
Gemma didn’t understand what he had in mind, but she took it out of her big bag and handed it to him, then hurried into the living room with the others.
“This town sounds enchanting,” Isla was saying, “and if I should be given the job I will enjoy becoming part of the community.”
“I can’t wait to dive into the research,” Kirk said. “The excitement of discovery, the thrill of tracking down a story, the possibility of learning something that no one else knows . . .” He had a faraway look in his eyes that Gemma had never seen before, even though she’d been in classes with him for the last four years. They’d never been in a study group together, but then Gemma’s workload prevented her from conforming to other people’s schedules.