Page 11 of The Lost Heiress
It made sense, in a way, for the senator to do it in an environment that he knew well, the home that he had grown up in. And to do it at a party that he had overseen. He’d know who would be there andwhat the itinerary would be—what would be happening and when. Had the chaos of the party provided the perfect distraction to mask his devious actions? Perhaps he had said good night to his guests early and retreated to his room under the guise of going to bed, as he claimed. But maybe he had slipped down to the beach after. It was his home—he knew how to navigate the back halls, the servants’ stairs, well enough so as not to be seen. In guests’ last reported sighting of Saoirse, she was drunk and stumbling down the stairs to the beach with an unidentified man. Perhaps that had been Ransom Towers? Someone Saoirse knew, someone she trusted.
Controlled. Methodical.
Perhaps, once again, Senator Towers and Saoirse had not seen eye to eye on what was best for her. Or, rather, on what was best for the senator.
Chapter Three
June 1982
When Ana rejoined Mrs. Talbot on the stairs, Mrs. Talbot gave her a quick once-over, from her flyaway braids to the same yellowing Chuck Taylors that she had worn on her drive, and then a disapproving look, as if Ana should have more to show for the generous fifteen minutes of freshening up that she had been so graciously granted. Still, Mrs. Talbot didn’t say anything, and so neither did Ana. Ana followed her silently down the stairs to the hall, where they went left this time through another grand-looking room. The house felt like a giant maze, and Ana felt lost and disoriented. She tried to memorize the rooms and their orientation to one another, but again, Mrs. Talbot kept a brisk pace, which left no time to study anything. They made their way out onto a white stone terrace that overlooked the back garden.
A young woman sat there. She had a tray on a table in front of her, and she stared out absently at the garden, her chin propped in her hand, as if she were deep in thought. She wore a smart white jumper that skimmed her slender figure and showed off her deep tan, and her long dark hair fell loosely around her shoulders. She was quite possibly the most beautiful person Ana had ever seen, outside of the movies.
“Miss Saoirse,” Mrs. Talbot called gently as they approached. Saoirse’s head turned toward them then, and it was like a switch went onbehind her eyes when she saw them. Gone was the dreamy expression, immediately replaced by animated excitement.
“You must be Ana,” Saoirse said as she pushed back her chair.
Ana put out her hand, but Saoirse embraced her warmly, drawing Ana into her tall thin frame. She smelled of vanilla and elderflowers, delicate and fresh.
“It’s so good to meet you,” Saoirse said. “Ransom has told me all about you, and I feel as if we’re friends already. Please, join me.”
She motioned to the chair next to her, and Ana took it, feeling a little taken aback by such a friendly welcome.
“It’s great to meet you too,” Ana said, sinking into her chair.
“I’ll leave you girls to get to know one another, then,” Mrs. Talbot said. “Ring the maid when you’re done, Saoirse, and she’ll collect your tray.”
“Thank you, Tabby,” Saoirse said.
“Tabby?” Ana asked, when Mrs. Talbot was out of earshot.
“Oh, yes,” Saoirse said, leaning toward her and whispering conspiratorially. “Absolutelynevercall her that. She will flay you alive. I’m only allowed because I started when I was two. Couldn’t say myot’s, and what kind of monster would scold a child with a speech impediment?”
“She’s been with the family that long?” Ana asked.
“Oh, longer,” Saoirse said. “I think they built her with the house.”
Saoirse winked, and Ana laughed.
Ana was relieved, really. Saoirse seemed neither sickly nor difficult. She was lovely, a breath of fresh air, especially after Ana’s encounter with Mrs. Talbot.
Still, Ana couldn’t help but wonder—this was the girl who had scared away three companions in as many weeks? She couldn’t square it.
“I heard you like horseback riding,” Saoirse said. “What do you say to a ride down to the beach?”
In the stables, they tacked up two of the most beautiful chestnut mares that Ana had ever seen, and then they were off, down a trail thatfollowed the main road for a way before it veered off into the tall grass and made a gentle zigzagging descent down the hillside to the beach. At the bottom, they found themselves in a little cove surrounded by hills on either side and, in front of them, the frothy mouth of the sea.
It was hot, the sun still overhead, and when they dismounted, Saoirse untied her jumper and shrugged out of it. She had a stylish one-piece lime-green swimsuit on underneath.
“What do you say to a swim?” Saoirse asked as she tied her hair into a knot at the top of her head.
“Oh, I didn’t realize we were going swimming,” Ana said apologetically. “I’m not wearing my suit.”
“It’s a private beach,” Saoirse said. “No one will see you here. And underwear is practically the same thing.”
Ana shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand and looked out at the water. The waves arched and crashed loudly onto the sand.
“Looks a little rough out there,” Ana said.
