Reluctant Deception - Cambria Smyth Page 0,16
miles away was one of her favorites. Why shouldn't she go out and have a good time?
"Oh, alright," she finally conceded. "It will probably be good for me."
"That's the attitude! We'll meet you there at seven."
Connie waved good-by and hurried back to her car.
Her outdoor chores momentarily forgotten, Libby sat down on the back porch, tired from the day spent busily attacking a variety of projects. After cleaning the kitchen, she headed outdoors to the large perennial garden that was once her grandmother's pride and joy. She pulled out invasive weeds and last year's accumulation of dead leaves, exposing tender new shoots emerging from their winter's nap. Poppies, orange and red, held aloft on fern-like foliage, were soon to bloom. Daisies, too, were full of buds on the verge of blossoming.
Libby loved the smell of freshly turned earth and didn't mind the moist dirt which streaked her face and clung to her clothes. She found great satisfaction in gardening's physical labor and felt the stress of yesterday's events melting away with each new task. Even the fresh air seemed to lift her spirits, she decided, surveying the garden emerging from its dormancy. Although Libby felt hot and sweaty from the exertion, she'd barely thought about her mother, or Chris, she'd been so busy.
And that's just the way she wanted it.
Several hours later, Libby took her second shower of the day, carefully scrubbing away every trace of dirt and grime. After drying off, she rubbed a soothing lotion over her body, concentrating on her hands and knees which had borne the brunt of her activities. She opened the closet door, searching for something not too dressy, but not too casual either. A newly-purchased denim skirt was just the thing, she quickly decided. Libby slipped it on, added a crisp white linen shirt, then tied a multi-colored woven belt around her waist for a dash of color.
Pausing before the mirror, she admired the way her outfit emphasized her figure, making her waist seem smaller and her bust a little bigger. She opened a few buttons down the neckline, stopping at a point just short of being risqué. Her nicely rounded breasts were enhanced by the new décolleté and Libby felt absolutely adventurous as she viewed her reflection. It was time she got out and enjoyed life, even if only for a few hours, she decided. Her mother wouldn't want her sitting home, brooding about the past and what couldn't be changed.
She casually fluffed her almost dry hair into a soft halo of waves, noticing the way her slightly tanned face glowed from being outside most of the day. After applying mascara and a hint of blush, she headed out the door.
Chapter Seven
Christopher Darnell sat alone at a small table for two, nursing a beer as he watched the restaurant and bar in the Chesterfield Inn fill with a noisy crowd of Saturday night patrons. They were an interesting mix of young and old, couples and singles, who came for the delicious food and cozy but casual atmosphere.
Chris looked around the inn.
It wasn't his usual sort of place. Too old-fashioned and intimate. One end was dominated by an enormous, turn-of-the-last-century oak bar complete with brass rails and an ornate mirror. The dining area was full of antique tables covered with fabric tablecloths, linen napkins, and fresh flowers. A variety of mis-matched antique chairs were clustered around each table, making the room seem warm and welcoming.
Tonight it didn't matter what the place looked like, Chris decided. It was just nice to get out and be among other people for a while.
He took a sip of almost-warm beer and idly played with the few cold French fries remaining on his plate. The meal left him satisfyingly full while the beer made him relaxed and mellow.
He'd spent a busy day at Harte's Desire, putting in a full eight hours of work even though it was Saturday. There were plans to review, contractors to meet with, and endless piles of paperwork to wade through. The phone had been thankfully quiet, so he had gotten a lot accomplished. At the end of the day, satisfied he'd done all he could and thoroughly tired of being alone amid the quiet stillness of the old mansion, he decided to try this restaurant Edwina McElroy had recommended. Although he hated eating by himself, tonight he couldn't spend another minute sequestered in the mansion's absolute silence.
As he sipped on the tepid beer, he pondered yesterday's meeting with Elizabeth, speculating when she was