Under the Moon Gate Page 4

  “Speaking of letting you in, how did you get around the police? They’re supposed to have guards posted at the gate.”

  “Patience, you know I can get around any man, any time. Each of those young officers asked if he could walk me to your door, and I told them to knock themselves out. And that’s exactly what they did. They actually came to blows over which of them would get to escort me.”

  “Who got the honors?” Patience said, laughing.

  “Neither. When they had picked themselves up off the ground and dusted themselves off, they discovered I had already walked away.”

  “Great.” Patience sighed. “I might as well dismiss them, for all the good they’re doing. They’re supposed to be keeping people out.”

  “Surely, not your best friend,” Cecilia said. “Anyway, they know me, so of course they let me in.”

  There was no help for her. Cecilia was like a bulldog driving a bulldozer. Patience knew her friend would not give in or accept any excuses until she got her way. She was overpowering. She was also the greatest friend in the world.

  Cecilia looked at the coffee table.

  “Tea service for two? Patience, are you holding out on me? If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were hiding a man in here. Where is he?” Cecilia bounded up from the couch and checked all the rooms on the first level.

  “No man on the first floor.”

  “Cecilia, really!”

  “Should I try upstairs?”

  Patience blushed. Cecilia could sniff out a man from a mile away. She probably smelled Nathaniel’s lingering sea scent in the drawing room.

  “Sallie and I were having some tea earlier,” Patience said, not wanting to get into an explanation about the mystery man at her door.

  “Who is he? I’m sure I know him. This island is so incestuous. Everyone already knows everyone else.” Cecilia sniffed the air. “What we need on this island is some new blood to get the juices stirring.”

  “Cecilia, you’re outrageous. I just buried my grandmother, for heaven’s sake. You’ve already had every man on the island. Three times. And been married to most of them. There’s no one left. And I never entertain men in my house, you know that.”

  “You never entertain men outside of your house, either. Just trying to raise your spirits. Don’t mind me. You’ve been crying.” Cecilia sat down beside Patience and took her friend’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I’ve stuck my foot in my mouth. I’m awful. You should just kick me out.”

  “It’s okay. You can stay…for a while.” She couldn’t stay mad at her friend for long.

  “You’re having trouble coping, aren’t you?” Cecilia said sympathetically. “Well, we need a diversion. Why don’t we go into town tonight and go clubbing? I know this great new bar. Or we could do something really touristy like the Swizzle Inn. I’m in the mood for some crab bisque and coconut shrimp and some of Johnnie’s bread pudding with brandy sauce. And, of course, some Rum Swizzles. I could drink a pitcher myself. Swizzle Inn-Swagger Out?”

  Patience laughed half-heartedly.

  “Cecilia. I couldn’t possibly. I don’t want to leave the house. I don’t have any energy. And how would it look?”

  “Since when have I cared about how something looked? And anyway, we won’t know a soul. Nobody local goes there.”

  “Well, I care,” Patience protested. “Listen, I think I need to catch forty winks, so maybe you could come back la—”

  The conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door.

  Patience sighed. What did they say in America? Her house was getting to be like Grand Central Station.

  “Now who could that be?” Cecilia wondered. “I thought you hung out the No Visitors Allowed sign.”

  “A lot of good that did,” Patience laughed. Maybe it was the police telling her they had dragged that dangerous pirate off to jail.

  Cecilia was at the door before Patience could answer it.

  “Wow!” she heard her friend say. “Excuse me while I swoon.”

  “There seems to be a lot of that going around today,” Nathaniel remarked. “Must be something in the air.”

  Cecilia turned to her friend for an explanation.

  “It’s an inside joke,” Patience said.

  “You do know this man. You must, if you already have inside jokes. You have been holding out on me, you naughty girl. Aren’t you going to introduce me to this delicious specimen?”

  Patience joined them at the door and noticed with irritation that Nathaniel had shaved and changed clothes. He cleaned up nicely. He actually looked presentable. But he still smelled of the sea. She also noticed he was balancing a duffel bag over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing back here?” she growled.

  “I’m like a bad penny,” Nathaniel said. “I keep turning up, and I’m going to keep coming back until I get what I came for.”

  Furious, Patience glanced at Cecilia, who seemed anxious for her to complete the introductions.

  “Cecilia, I’d like to introduce you to Nathaniel Morgan, pirate and adventurer extraordinaire. Nathaniel, this is my best friend, the troublemaker, the outrageous but always entertaining Cecilia Overbrook.”

  He smiled and held out his hand. “Of the Overbrooks?”

  She nodded. “I’m only an Overbrook by marriage, or rather an ex-Overbrook.”

  “She’s working her way through every family on the island, and won’t stop until she’s married into them all,” Patience said, amused.

  “Patience, you know I’d have to deck you for that remark if you weren’t in mourning.”

  Cecilia turned her attention to Nathaniel. “Looks like you’re planning to stay awhile.”

  ****

  Now this woman was more his type, Nathaniel thought. Vivacious, busty, and gutsy. If he were in the market for a woman, which he was not. She was a knockout. But seeing the women side by side, he had to admit Patience had a quality that set her apart and left her stunning friend looking almost coarse in comparison. Where Cecilia was a blazing firecracker, Patience was more like a wondrous firefly or a silent symphony of fireworks.

  “Are you really a pirate?” Cecilia asked, entranced.

  “I look for lost treasures, so I guess I am a pirate of sorts.”

  “Where have you been all my life?” Cecilia purred, grabbing Nathaniel’s hand. “Come right in. Patience, I think this man needs a drink. And after that, we’ll find out just what else he needs.”

  Patience rolled her eyes heavenward.

  “I’m sorry about my friend here,” Patience apologized. “She seems to be on the prowl today.”

  “I’m always on the prowl, darling, you know that. And I’m suddenly famished.” She looked as if she might ingest Nathaniel on the spot and swallow him whole.

  “There’s plenty of food in the fridge,” Patience gestured. “Help yourself.” Patience watched Cecilia smile at Nathaniel before she sashayed into the kitchen.

  “Don’t apologize for your friend. I think she’s great,” Nathaniel said.

  “Yes, you would.”

  “Now just what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. All men fall in love with Cecilia. That’s why they never notice me. What are you doing back here? And how did you get by the guards this time?”

  “I told them I was your cousin from Virginia.”

  “My cousin? And they bought that?”

  “Of course. I also told them we wouldn’t be needing them anymore,” he said, lowering his voice so only Patience could hear. “We don’t need them poking around in our business, and the letter you received specifically threatened your life if you called the police. Now that I’m on the island, I’m going to protect you.”

  “And who’s going to protect me from you?”

  “Patience, we have to talk,” he said, “privately.”

  “I’m going to have Sallie call the police,” Patience promised.

  “She’s not here. I saw her out in the garden and gave her the rest
of the day off.”

  “You did what?” Patience was furious. “You can’t order my staff around. I need her here. She’s been spending the night because—well, I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  “You’re not alone. I’m here. And we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

  “I think we said all we have to say to each other earlier this afternoon. And what are you doing with that bag? Have you decided to leave Bermuda, please God?”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Nathaniel said.

  “If you need a place to stay…” Cecilia offered, wandering back into the drawing room to stand next to Nathaniel.

  He dumped the bag on the floor inside the door before taking Patience’s elbow in a proprietary hold.

  “No, Patience has already kindly offered to put me up for a while.”

  “Patience? Put up a man at her house?” Cecilia asked bluntly. “Who are you, really?”

  “I’m Patience’s cousin from Virginia.”

  “Patience never mentioned any American cousins,” Cecilia said suspiciously.

  “Didn’t she tell you about me? No, I guess not. I think she’s ashamed of me. I’m the black sheep of the family. Sorry I missed the funeral, but I have decided to take you up on your generous offer, cuz.”

  Nathaniel gave Patience a very uncousinly kiss, then explained to Cecilia, “We’re kissing cousins.”

  “Get your hands off me,” Patience said, growing more irate by the minute. “And I most certainly did not offer to put you up for a while or any other length of time. What I am going to do is boot you out of here on your backside.”

  “Patience is so kind, isn’t she?” Nathaniel smiled at Cecilia, laying on the charm as thick as the marmalade on the scones Sallie had served with tea that afternoon.

  “She’d give you the shirt off her back,” Cecilia agreed. “And I’d be happy to give you the shirt off mine, Cousin Nathaniel.”

  “Interesting offer,” Nathaniel said, winking at Cecilia. “I’ve read that Bermuda was a hostile, haunted place of evil spirits, inhabited only by wild birds and sea creatures, and that the ‘dreaded islands of Bermuda…the Devil’s Islands, should be feared and avoided by all sea travelers alive above any other place in the world.’ And now I can see why. The natives are certainly less than hospitable. Although some are more hospitable than others.” His eyes bore into Patience’s as she glared back at him.

  ****

  “How dare you?” said Patience, rounding on him angrily. She took personal offense at the remark about her hospitality. It was her job to promote Bermuda, to welcome people here, to laud the benefits of the island. His words were an insult to everything she stood for, everything she and her grandmother had worked so hard for during the past four years on the Rediscover Bermuda committee.

  Patience had assumed her grandmother’s position as head of the committee, begun for the 2009 celebration of the 400th anniversary of the discovery of Bermuda. It had been Patience’s idea to keep the flame of the Rediscover Bermuda campaign alive by unveiling an offshoot of the campaign annually.

  But she was secretly impressed. Nathaniel did know his Bermuda history.

  “That’s so typical,” said Patience, masking her admiration as she continued her tirade, her lower lip in a petulant pout. “Shipwrecks, hurricanes, and the Bermuda Triangle. That’s all most people remember when they think of Bermuda.”

  “You have to admit there have been a lot of strange occurrences connected with the island,” Nathaniel pointed out. “Pirates running aground, sailors stranded on treacherous hidden barrier reefs, ships foundering in terrifying storms, and planes simply disappearing from the radar screen.”

  “All exaggerations,” she countered, “and misconceptions. How is it you know so much about Bermuda?”

  “I’m getting my PhD in Bermuda history. My dissertation is on Bermuda during World War II.”

  “Well, if you think you’re going to barrel your way into my house like a barbarian, Nathaniel, you’ve—”

  “Cousin Nathaniel,” he corrected. “And it seems I already have. Now it wouldn’t be right to turn a blood relative away, would it?”

  “I can call a hotel. We’ve got the Pink Beach Club and Cottages right around the corner. They’ve very nice accommodations. Secluded, with tennis, two lovely beaches, two rather fine restaurants, and entertainment. In fact, they have a new executive chef. It’s very exclusive. I highly recommend it. I know the managing director.”

  “Of course you do. You rich, elitist types tend to stick together, don’t you? Private yacht clubs. Exclusive golf courses. Members only, of course.”

  “You’re despicable, and you’re also a hypocrite,” Patience accused. “You mistake civility for snobbery. You apparently have enough money to waste coming over here and harassing me. Don’t you have a job to go back to? Or someone to go back to? Or some place you have to be?”

  “No,” Nathaniel admitted. “I’m a student, completely unattached, and it’s summer break. All I need to complete a PhD is my dissertation, and that’s what I’m working on now.”

  Completely unattached. Interesting. But she wasn’t going to let him know that made any difference to her. “Oh, so you just sail around the world without getting your hands dirty earning a proper living.”

  His brows lifted. Maybe that dig had hit a little too close to home?

  “If you like to golf, Pink Beach Club guests have privileges at the Mid Ocean Club,” Patience said, in a second attempt to lure Nathaniel into leaving her property. “It’s one of the finest courses on the island—one of the top fifty golf courses in the world. Did you know Bermuda is home to more golf courses per square mile than anywhere else in the world?”

  “I hate golf,” Nathaniel announced, visibly agitated.

  Patience and Cecilia each gave him wary sidelong glances.

  “Okay,” Patience said. “Calm down. We won’t talk about golf, then.”

  “What are you two staring at?” His thunderous expression gradually dissipated.

  “Nothing,” Patience answered. “It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone display such animosity toward a sport. Do you hate all sports?”

  “No. Just golf.”

  “I see,” said Patience. But she didn’t.

  “Were you hit over the head with a golf club when you were a child?” Cecilia ventured with a tentative smile.

  Nathaniel wasn’t laughing.

  Cecilia leaned over to whisper in Patience’s ear. “Talk about overreacting. He acts as if golf clubs are weapons of mass destruction. And while we’re on the subject of tools, I wonder if he’s a putter. Or do you suppose he prefers the long drive? I’d like to get a look at his nine-iron, and—”

  “Cecilia!” Patience interrupted. “You’re being rude and crude! You two deserve each other.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Cecilia laughed.

  “While you two women are busy having a laugh at my expense, I’ll just go down the hall and find my room, stash my gear and get settled.”

  “But,” said Patience, chasing after him, “I didn’t say you could—”

  “Since I’ve already moored my boat at your dock,” Nathaniel interrupted, “I may as well stay. I won’t be any trouble. You won’t even know I’m here.”

  Patience ran over to the window. The light was already beginning to fade. “Your boat? It’s more like an ocean liner. How did you manage to maneuver that monstrosity into the bay?”

  “I’m a sailor, remember? And your house is sited on a deep-water mooring.”

  “I never agreed to this. You can just turn around and leave, and take the Queen Mary with you.”

  “Now, Cousin, you’re just distraught,” Nathaniel soothed. “Sit down.” He tried to guide her to the couch.

  “Don’t patronize me, don’t order me around in my own home, or treat me like a child, and don’t ever touch me again.”

  “You make a lot of demands.”

  “Patience,” Cecilia said,
puzzled. “What’s gotten into you? For heaven’s sake, he’s your cousin. Be gracious.”

  “Precisely,” Nathaniel agreed.

  “Distant cousin,” Patience corrected. “Get out, Nathaniel. I’m giving you ten seconds to get out, or I’ll call—”

  “The authorities?” Nathaniel laughed, his eyes flashing a warning signal. “You know you won’t. We don’t want to air our dirty laundry in front of your friend, now, do we? Cecilia, could you please leave us alone now? Patience and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

  Cecilia’s eyes met hers and held a million questions.

  “Don’t worry, I’m harmless,” Nathaniel assured her.

  “Patience, you’ll call me later, promise?” Cecilia implored. “You’ll be all right, won’t you?”

  “Yes, because my cousin is not going to be staying.” Patience let her friend out the front door and turned to Nathaniel.

  “My cousin?” Patience was horrified. “That’s pathetic, even for you.”

  “I’m moving in here. It’s not safe for you. I can’t protect you unless we’re together.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “The evil that’s stalking us.”

  “Are you hallucinating?”

  “And we can’t have people talking. We need to maintain a low profile. My boat was sticking out like a sore thumb at the yacht club. And we have your reputation to think about.”

  “A low profile? With that cruise ship berthed in front of Marigold House? I hardly think you’re worried about my reputation. But even if you were, it’s too late. I dearly love her, but talking to Cecilia is tantamount to taking out a front-page ad in The Royal Gazette. The news will be all over the island by this evening. ‘Patience Katherine Whitestone is living in sin with her American cousin.’”

  “Who else besides Sallie and Cecilia have access to this house?”

  “Well, there’s Andrew. He tends the garden.”

  “That fossil? I saw the man in the garden talking to Sallie. He doesn’t have enough energy to put one foot in front of the other. I don’t know how he even negotiates the steps down to the garden. The man is barely mobile.”