Calder Promise (Calder Saga 8)

Trey’s only reply to that was, “You will be home in time for the big horse sale the first of June, won’t you? Mom’s counting on you to help with it.”

“I’d forgotten all about it.” The sale marked only the second time horses bred on the ranch had been sold separately from the biennial livestock auction. Just like the livestock auction, the horse sale was as much a large-scale social event as it was an auction. And the lone bright spot in the usual monotony of ranch life, as far as Laura was concerned. “I’ll be home in time for that,” she promised.

After an exchange of good-byes, Trey hung up and rocked back in an oversized swivel chair behind the den’s massive desk, his thoughts still troubled by the news about Quint. His glance drifted idly to the wide sweep of horns mounted above the fireplace’s mantelpiece.

The sound of shuffling footsteps pulled his attention from the old stone fireplace and swung it toward the den’s open door into the hall as his grandfather, Chase Calder, paused outside it. Age had stooped his tall frame and turned his dark hair an iron gray. There was a sagging of the skin across his hard and angular features, the cracked and weathered texture of it resembling old saddle leather. At first glance, his grandfather looked every bit of his eighty-plus years, but there was a vitality burning in his dark eyes that couldn’t be ignored.

“I thought I heard you talking to your mother,” Chase stated as if in explanation for his presence.

“No, I just got off the phone with Laura.” Trey gripped the armrest and pushed out of the chair, driven by a restless feeling that demanded movement. “I called to let her know about Quint.”

“Is she coming home?”

“No. She’s flying to London at the end of the week.” Trey moved out from behind the desk and crossed to the door.

“London,” Chase repeated in disgust. “It’s high time she quit gallivanting all over Europe and came home. This is where she belongs.”

Trey stopped in front of him. In Chase’s younger days, the two men would have stood eye to eye. But Trey was a good inch taller than Chase now. Despite the stark age differences, the family resemblance was strong.

“No, Gramps, she doesn’t. I don’t know where Laura belongs, but it isn’t here.” Trey had never felt more certain of that than he did at that moment, and he couldn’t say why.

Chapter Four

Clouds drifted through the blue sky that arched over the sprawl of metropolitan London. A river bus plowed through the murky waters of the Thames past the famed Savoy Hotel. But Max Rutledge took no notice of the fine spring afternoon or the expansive views of the river his suite in the Savoy provided. He was too preoccupied by the latest batch of reports that had been forwarded to him.

Distracted as he was, he was slow to register the initial click of the door latch. Not until he heard the door close did he become aware of someone entering in the room. With a swing of his massive shoulder, he glanced toward the door, his gaze lighting on his tall son, dressed in sweats, a towel draped around his neck, and a lingering sheen of perspiration on his face that said, as much as his dress, that he had come straight from a vigorous workout at the hotel’s health club.

As usual, Max wasted no time with preliminaries. “I thought you told me that Calder girl was staying at Claridges.”

Boone Rutgledge hesitated a split second. “That’s what she indicated to me before we left Rome.” He caught up a corner of the towel and mopped his cheek and jaw with it.

“Well, she’s not. She called an hour ago to say that they’re at the Lanesborough on Hyde Park Corner.

“Obviously, there was a change of plans,” Boone stated with unconcern and crossed to a phone.

“What are you doing now?” Max demanded.

“I’m just calling to confirm that I’ll pick her up at eight this evening.” He picked up the receiver.

“Don’t bother. She’s not there.” Max pivoted his wheelchair around to face him. “She said she was going downstairs for tea.”

Boone set the phone back on its cradle. “In that case, I’ll shower and call her later.”

Max snorted in disgust. “You’re always letting grass grow under your feet. What’s wrong with going over there and joining her for tea? It’s not like you’re going to spend the rest of the afternoon working. You never do a damned thing unless I tell you. Just once I wish you’d take some initiative yourself.”

Boone glared at him for a long, stiff second, then pivoted on his heel and crossed to one of the suite’s adjoining bedrooms, the one that he had claimed as his own.

Thick traffic swirled around the busy Hyde Park corner, but little of its noise invaded the Lanesborough’s Library Bar, where afternoon tea was being served. Laura paid little attention to the hushed conversations taking place around her as she took a sip of the Earl Grey tea in her Royal Worcester cup.

“Did you speak to Sebastian?” Tara deftly added a dollop of clotted cream to her scone.

“No, I had to leave messages for both Sebastian and Boone.” Laura returned her cup to its saucer and used the serving tongs to remove a petit four from its tray. “I let the desk know that we

’d be in here if either of them called.”

“Good.” Tara nodded in approval and took a delicate bite of her scone and chewed it thoughtfully. “As I recall, Crawford Hall is somewhere in the Cotswolds. I shouldn’t think it would be much more than a two-hour drive from London. I wonder if there’s a suitable inn nearby where we could spend the night. It would be too much to hope that we might actually be invited to stay at the manor.”

Where they might stay was of little interest to Laura. “I’m looking forward to seeing that portrait of Lady Elaine.” But not nearly as much as she was anticipating Sebastian’s company.