"Attitude?"
He set his glass on the mantel with a snap. "Questioning me, defying my wishes, neglecting your duties in the community. Margo's presence here is merely an excuse for you to go on behaving badly."
"I don't need an excuse."
"Apparently not. I'll put it another way, a clearer way, Laura. As long as that woman lives in this house, I don't."
"An ultimatum, Peter?" Very slowly, she inclined her head. "I think you might be rudely surprised by my answer to that."
On impulse, Margo stepped into the room. "Hello, Peter. Don't worry, I'm every bit as thrilled to see you as you are to see me."
With a brittle smile, she walked over to the decanter. Though she rarely drank anything other than wine, she poured two fingers of Scotch. She wanted something to do with her hands.
"I know I'm interrupting, but I was on my way back to speak to Mum." She took a quick, bracing sip, shuddered it down.
"You seem to be taking your most recent debacle in stride," Peter commented.
"Oh, you know me. Roll with the flow." She gestured widely, rings glittering. "I'm sorry I missed the show you were telling Laura about. I do hope those shots of me sunbathing were flattering. Those long-range lenses can distort, you know." Beaming smiles, she lifted her glass to him. "And you and I understand all about appearances, don't we, Peter?"
He didn't bother to conceal his disdain. She was, as she had always been to him, the housekeeper's inconvenient daughter. "People who eavesdrop on private conversations rarely hear anything flattering."
"Absolutely true." Resolved now, she took a last sip before setting the glass down. "As you'd be aware if you'd ever heard any of my private conversations about you. You can rest easy. I was coming in to tell my mother I have to go back to Milan."
Distress made Laura step forward, step between them. "Margo, there's no need for that."
She took the hand Laura offered, squeezed it. "There is. I left dozens of things hanging. I needed this little breather, but I have to go back and tend to the details."
Ignoring Peter, she gathered Laura close. "I love you, Laura."
"Don't say it like that." Alarmed, Laura drew back, searched Margo's face. "You're coming back."
She gave a careless shrug even as her stomach jittered. "We'll see how the wind blows. But I'll be in touch. I need to talk to Mum before I pack." She gave Laura a last hug before turning toward the door. Not sure if she'd have another chance, she went with impulse again and turned back. She offered Peter her sultriest smile. "One more thing. You're a pompous, egotistical, self-important ass. You weren't good enough for her when she married you, you're still not good enough for her, and you never will be. It must be hell for you knowing that."
As exits went, Margo thought as she glided out, she'd never done better.
"I'm not running away," Margo insisted as she hurriedly packed.
"Aren't you?" With her hands folded at her waist, Ann watched her daughter. Always in a rush, she thought, to get from one place to the next. Never stopping to think.
"I'd stay if I could. I'd rather stay, but—" She tossed a cashmere sweater into her bag. "I just can't."
Out of habit, Ann took the sweater out, folded it neatly, replaced it. "You should take more care with your possessions. And your friends. You're leaving Miss Laura when she needs you."
"I'm leaving to make things easier for her, damn it." Out of patience, Margo tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Can't you ever give me credit for doing something right? She's downstairs right now arguing with Peter because of me. He threatened to leave her if I stay. He doesn't want me here."
"This is Templeton House," Ann said simply.
"And he lives here. Laura is his wife. I'm just—"
"The housekeeper's daughter. Odd, you only remember that when it suits you. I'm asking you to stay and do what you can for her."
Oh, guilt works so well, she thought as she stalked over to wrench a blouse out of the armoire. Like a bell to Pavlov's dog. "I'm a cause of tension in her marriage, an embarrassment. I will not see her torn between me and the man she's been married to for ten years. You know I love her."
"Yes." Ann sighed a little. "Yes, I know you do. Loyalty isn't one of your failings, Margo. But I'm telling you she needs you here. Her parents are off in Africa someplace. They know little about what's gone on in this house and little, I suspect, of what's happened to you. They would be here otherwise. But you're here, and you should stay. If you would for once listen to what I say, do as I ask."
"I can't." She sent her mother a thin smile. "Some things don't change. Kate and Josh are here for her. And you," she added. "I have to get out of the way so she can work things out with Peter. If that's what she wants. Though God knows why—" She cut herself off, waved a hand in dismissal. "That's her decision. Mine is to go back to Milan. I have to deal with things there. I have to pick up my life."
"Well, you've made the mess of it, you'll have to clean it up. You'll hurt her by going," she said quietly. And me, Ann thought. Can't you see how it hurts me to see you walk away again?