with me. Yes. Big, powerful Uncle Jonathan is afraid of baby things.”
She lifted out Colton and held him close. The little boy smelled of baby powder and that indescribable scent that makes maternal types go weak at the knees with longing for a child of their own. She tickled him under the chin, making him laugh and wave his hands.
“I’m sure you had a good time,” she told the baby as she carried him toward the front door. “I, however, couldn’t help thinking that it would have been more fun for me if I’d had cart blanche in a ritzy department store.” She was smiling as she reached for the doorbell.
But she never had a chance to press the button. The wide wood and beveled glass door flew open. A woman in her mid-fifties, wearing a black dress and white apron clapped her hands together.
“Oh, finally Mr. Jonathan brings me a baby. I’ve been begging him for years and always he ignores me. ‘Lucinda,’ he says. ‘I’m not the baby type.’ Maybe so, but I remind him that I am.”
The woman, Jonathan’s housekeeper Cynthia presumed, was about her height, with short dark hair and brown eyes the color of milk chocolate. Her wide smile made her eyes crinkle. She looked soft and plump-and Cynthia liked her on sight.
Lucinda reached for the child, then stopped and touched her forehead with her fingertips. “You must think I’m crazy, keeping you out here on the doorstep. You’re Cynthia, right? Come in, come in. I’m Lucinda. I keep Mr. Jonathan’s house. Not that there’s very much to do. The man works all the time. He rarely eats at home. I send his clothes out to be cleaned. So where does that leave me? I watch my soaps in the afternoon. I tell him not to pay me so much money, what with me watching television, but does he listen?”
Cynthia took in the flow of conversation. She realized she wasn’t actually expected to comment on any of it, which made her feel better. She wasn’t sure she would know where to start.
“Yes, I’m Cynthia Morgan,” she managed to inject. “This is Colton, Jonathan’s nephew. Isn’t he a charmer?”
“So handsome,” Lucinda said. “May I hold him?”
“Of course. He’s not the least bit shy around new people. In fact I suspect he likes a crowd. More attention for him.”
Lucinda took the baby and cradled him in her arms. “Oh, little one. You look like your uncle. The same dark hair and blue eyes.”
The baby smiled up at her and Lucinda smiled in return. “You’re going to be a heartbreaker. I can see it already. You’re going to twist me around your finger, aren’t you?” She returned her attention to Cynthia and the truck that had stopped in the driveway.
“Mr. Jonathan said you would be buying the little one what he needs.” Reluctantly she handed the baby back to Cynthia. “After I show you around I’ll go tell the men where to put everything. They’re going to track mud all over my floors. I just know it.” She glanced at the boxes and cartons of furniture being unloaded, then sighed. “It will be worth it, I think. To have a baby after all this time.”
Lucinda motioned for Cynthia to follow her into the house. “Let me take you to the room I picked for the little one. Mr. Jonathan said I could just go ahead and choose what I think is best. I have a room for you, too. We had painters through last spring, so the rooms are nice. The baby’s room is plain. Cream walls. But maybe we’ll pick some wallpaper.” She clucked Colton under his chin. “You like race cars? Or maybe sports?”
Lucinda continued to talk as she headed for a curved staircase at the far end of the foyer but Cynthia couldn’t answer. She was too busy trying to keep her mouth from falling open as she took in her surroundings.
Of course she’d known that Jonathan Steele was a successful, wealthy man. Everyone in Grand Springs knew that. But reading about it in a newspaper article and seeing the proof in person were two very different things. She was sure she’d never seen a house as wonderful as this. Not even in a magazine spread.
The foyer was about the size of her mother’s house, but oval instead of square. Above was an incredibly beautiful crystal chandelier and above that, a domed ceiling. The walls were white, the floor black-and-white marble. Gilded chairs that looked English and very old hugged the sides of the curved room. Molding added elegance to an already impressive entryway. There were a half-dozen doors leading to who knows what other wonderful rooms and a curved staircase that stretched up the far wall.
Cynthia continued to look around as she hurried after Lucinda.
“The bedrooms are all on this floor,” Lucinda was saying when they reached the landing for the second story. “Mr. Jonathan’s suite is at the back of the house. It’s more private and quiet there. You and the little one are up here.”
She turned right and walked along a long, carpeted corridor. Cynthia looked at the narrow occasional tables and the fresh flowers. There were paintings and mirrors and more doors leading to different rooms.
Lucinda walked through an open door on the left. Cynthia followed. “I had the furniture moved out yesterday and everything is clean,” Lucinda said motioning to the impressive space. “There’s a smaller room next door. I thought maybe for play now, and later as a place to study.”
Cynthia slowly turned in a circle. The bedroom was huge, maybe fifteen-by- twenty, and on a corner of the house. There were windows on two walls, giving the area plenty of light. Hardwood floors gleamed underfoot. An arched doorway led to an alcove-the play or study area Lucinda had mentioned. There was also a private bath complete with a tub big enough to swim in.
“It’s perfect,” she breathed.
Colton gurgled his agreement, but his eyelids were drifting closed and she knew he would be dozing in a matter of seconds.
Lucinda smoothed her apron and smiled. “You like? It’s big, but I thought as the baby grows, he will want the room. You’re across the hall.” She frowned. “The walls and doors in this house are solid. I don’t think you’ll be able to hear the baby. Did you buy one of those walkie-talkies for baby?”
Cynthia shifted Colton to her other arm and nodded. “A baby monitor? Yes. So I’ll be able to hear him if he cries at night.”
“I would help,” Lucinda said, “but I don’t live with Mr. Jonathan. I have a house of my own a few miles from here. Mr. Jonathan gave it to me when his father died and he moved back to the house. He said it was a gift for years of loyal service.” She paused as the sound of a bell drifted through the house. “The men from the truck. I’ll be right back.”
She started to leave, then pointed to a closed door across the hall. “That’s your room. See if you like it.”
Cynthia did as she suggested. She crossed the carpeted hallway and pushed open the door. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw a feminine vision in pale blue and white.
Delicate French furniture filled the space that was only a little smaller than Colton’s new room. The queen-size bed had been covered by a lacy spread. A triple mirror sat on top of a vanity table. Tall windows faced the front of the house and light poured through the lace curtains. There were two blue- and-cream striped wing chairs with a reading lamp between them and a small fireplace in the corner. The bathroom was just as lovely, with a tub as big as Colton’s and an entire collection of bath products. She fingered the gold topped jars and figured the scented goodies cost as much as her mother spent on groceries in a month.
“What do you think?”
She turned at the sound of a male voice. Jonathan stood in the doorway of her bedroom. He wore a dark navy suit and red tie. The tailoring was perfect enough to emphasize his lean strength.
Her heart fluttered at the sight of him and her mouth went dry. She was grateful to be holding Colton. At least the baby gave her something to do with her hands.
“You have a beautiful house,” she said sincerely. “It’s big enough to serve as a shelter if there’s a local emergency, but I’m not complaining.”
Humor crinkled the corners of his blue-gray eyes. “I want you to be comfortable here.”
