Page 153 of Letters from the Past
‘Yes,’ Romily said vaguely, ‘I ... I do remember you mentioning a sister, but you didn’t say how beautiful she was.’
‘Nor would he,’ said Patsy, stepping forward to shake hands. ‘He only flags up my bad points. But I apologise for not saying who I was earlier, that was mischievous of me, especially as I’d guessed who you were. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I have an appointment at the Racquet Club to keep.’ She winked at Red. ‘And don’t worry, I’ll be leaving town first thing in the morning to go back to Chuck, leaving you twolove-birds to enjoy yourselves.’
‘No chance you could leave before then, is there?’ asked Red. ‘I could help you pack if you like.’
She wagged a finger at him. ‘Not a hope, I want the opportunity to get to know the woman who has finally captured your heart. I have a feeling Romily and I are going to be the best of friends.’
Red groaned. ‘Just what I need, the two of you ganging up against me.’
When Patsy was gone, and Red had his arms around Romily, and they had kissed to make up for the time they had been apart, she said, ‘Have I really captured your heart?’
‘What the hell kind of a question is that? Damned straight you have!’
She kissed him again. ‘You have no idea how delighted I am to hear that. Or how relieved I am that Patsy is your sister.’
He frowned. ‘I hope you didn’t really think I was seeing another woman while—’
She silenced him with another kiss. ‘It doesn’t matter. I’m here now.’
‘But you have to trust me, Romily. You really do.’
‘I know,’ she said with a sigh. ‘It’s just that it’s a long time since I have trusted someone.’
‘We’ll get there,’ he said with a smile. ‘I promise. Now, is that your typewriter case I see?’
‘I thought I might write while I’m here. Maybe write a new Sister Grace novel with a Palm Springs setting. Or maybe work with you on that film script for Gabe and Melvyn.’
‘Are you planning on a lengthy stay?’
‘I thought I could stick around until you’re sick of me.’
‘That’ll be never, then. Unless—’
‘Unless what?’
He loosened his grip and held her at arm’s distance. ‘I could swap you for Mrs Collings?’
She prodded his chest with a finger. ‘Careful what you wish for, Mr St Clair.’
‘Oh, I love nothing better than to live dangerously, MrsDevereux-Temple.’
‘Me too,’ she said softly, thinking of Matteo’s letters burning to ash in the fireplace back at Island House and finally releasing her from the past. ‘Me too.’
