Melanie studied him intently. “You really don’t know what Destiny is up to? You’re as much in the dark as the rest of us?”
Ben glanced toward Kathleen, then. “Not as much as you might think,” he said with a faint scowl.
Melanie gave the newcomer a knowing look. “Ah, so that’s it. I wondered when Kathleen arrived if she was the chosen one. I figured it was going to be your turn soon. Destiny won’t be entirely happy until all of her men are settled.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that,” Ben said darkly. “I’d hate to disappoint her, but I am settled.”
Richard overheard him and chuckled. “Oh, bro, if that’s what you think, you’re delusional.” He, too, glanced toward Kathleen, whose head was tilted as she listened intently to something Destiny was saying. “I give you till May.”
“June,” Mack chimed in. “Destiny’s been moping because none of us had a traditional June wedding. You’re all she’s got left, little brother. She won’t allow you to let her down. I caught her out in the garden earlier. I think she was mentally seating the guests and envisioning the perfect area for the reception.”
Ben shuddered. Richard and Mack had once been as fiercely adamant about not getting married as he was. Look at the two of them now. Richard even had a baby on the way, and Mack and Beth were talking about adopting one of the sick kids she worked with at the hospital. Maybe more. To his astonishment, those two seemed destined for a houseful. By this time next year, there would be the cries of children filling this house and any other place the Carlton family gathered. No one needed him adding to the clutter. He doubted Destiny saw it that way, though.
There were very few things that Ben wouldn’t do for his aunt. Getting married was one of them. He liked his solitude. After the chaotic upheaval of his early years, he counted on the predictability of his quiet life in the country. Graciela had given him a reprieve from that, but then she, too, had died, and it had reinforced his commitment to go through life with his heart under the tightest possible wraps. Those who wrote that he was prone to dark moods and eccentricities had gotten it exactly right. There would be no more nicks in his armor, no more devastating pain to endure.
His resolve steady and sure, he risked another look at Kathleen Dugan, then belatedly saw the smug expression on his aunt’s face when she caught him.
Ben sighed, then stood a little straighter, stiffening his spine, giving Destiny a daunting look. She didn’t bat so much as an eyelash. That was the trouble with his aunt. She rarely took no for an answer. She was persuasive and sneaky. If he didn’t take a firm stand right here, right now, he was doomed.
Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t think of a single way to make his position clear over turkey and dressing.
He could always say, “So glad you could come, Kathleen, but don’t get any ideas.”
Or, “Delighted to meet you, Ms. Dugan, but ignore every word out of my aunt’s mouth. She’s devious and clever and not to be trusted.”
Or maybe he should simply say nothing at all, just ignore the woman and avoid his aunt. If he could endure the next couple of hours, they’d all be gone and that would be that. He could bar the gates and go back into seclusion.
Perfect, he concluded. That was definitely the way to go. No overt rudeness that would come back to haunt him. No throwing down of the gauntlet. Just passive acceptance of Kathleen’s presence here tonight.
Satisfied with that solution, he turned his attention to the drink Richard had thrust in his hand. A sniff reassured him it was nonalcoholic. He hadn’t touched a drop of anything stronger than beer since the night of Graciela’s accident.
“Darling,” Destiny said, her gaze on him as she crossed the room, Kathleen at her side. “Did I mention earlier that Kathleen owns an art gallery?”
Next to him Melanie choked back a laugh. Richard and Mack smirked. Ben wanted nothing more than to pummel his brothers for getting so much enjoyment out of his discomfort at his aunt’s obvious ploy. Kathleen was her handpicked choice for him, all right. There was no longer any question about that.
“Really?” he said tightly.
“She has the most amazing work on display there now,” Destiny continued blithely. “You should stop by and take a look.”
Ben cast a helpless look in Kathleen’s direction. She now looked every bit as uncomfortable as he felt. “Maybe I will one of these days.” When hell freezes over, he thought even as he muttered the polite words.
“I’d love to have your opinion,” Kathleen said gamely.
“My opinion’s not worth much,” Ben said. “Destiny’s the family expert.”
Kathleen held his gaze. “But most artists have an eye for recognizing talent,” she argued.
Ben barely contained a sigh. Surely Kathleen was smart enough not to fall into his aunt’s trap. He wanted to warn her to run for her life, to skip the turkey, the dressing and the pumpkin pie and head back to Alexandria as quickly as possible and bar the door of her gallery from anyone named Carlton. He was tempted to point to Melanie and Beth and explain how they’d unwittingly fallen in with his aunt’s schemes, but he doubted his sisters-in-law would appreciate the suggestion that their marriages were anything other than heaven-sent. They both seemed to have revised history to their liking after the wedding ceremonies.
Instead he merely said, “I’m not an artist.”
“Of course you are,” Destiny declared indignantly. “An exceptionally talented one at that. Why would you say such a thing, Ben?”
To get out of being drawn any further into this web, he very nearly shouted. He looked his aunt in the eye. “Are you an artist?”
“Not anymore,” she said at once.
“Because you no longer paint?” he pressed.
Destiny frowned at him. “I still
