He was looking forward to the next month—four weeks with Morgan all to himself—but first they had some business to attend to.
“You ready?” he asked, watching her closely. Her skin glowed, her hair glistened, and those damn eyes that he’d like to drown himself in sparkled. Dressed simply in jeans, Birks, and a white blouse, she looked fresh and healthy and happy. Damn, but it made him feel good to think he was part of that.
Her fingers tightened in his grip. “What if we’ve got this wrong?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
The two of them made their way up the steps. Morgan fidgeted nervously while he waited for someone to answer his knock. They didn’t have to wait long, and a young woman, probably late teens, answered. She was a pretty little thing, with long blonde hair and big brown eyes. Eyes that widened into huge saucers about five seconds after opening the door.
“You guys look like…” she stammered, her face flushed pink as her gaze swept from Cooper to Morgan and then did a repeat. “Oh my God.” She practically squealed and glanced behind Cooper. “This is that TV series, right? Celebrity Show-Up?”
“Liliana, why on earth are you making such a racket? And who’s at our door on a Sunday?” A small, delicate woman appeared at Liliana’s side. Her hair was silver, her skin wrinkled with time, but the curve of her jaw was gentle, the sweep of her forehead elegant. Cooper saw the beauty she’d been in her youth, as well as the grace with which she’d aged.
“I’m so sorry. Let me apologize for my granddaughter. I have no idea what’s going on inside that head of hers, but I swear it sounds as if she’s taken leave of her senses.” The woman smiled at Morgan before glancing back up at Cooper. “Can I help you?”
“But, Nana, don’t you know who they are?”
The woman frowned and raised her eyebrows. “Why, if I knew who they were, child, I’d be inviting them in. Since I have no idea as to their names or what their business is, I’ll take the time and ask.”
“But, Nana—”
“Liliana, I swear you wear me out more than your mama did. Now go fetch me some cool iced tea and set it in the parlor.”
Cooper winked at the teenager and hid his smile when she blushed furiously, her tongue sufficiently tied, as she whirled around and headed toward the back of the house.
The older woman turned back to him, smoothing her hands down the front of her pale pink dress. “Now, what can I do for you folks?”
“We’re so sorry to bother you,” Morgan said. “I’m sure this will seem a bit bizarre, but are you by any chance from Maine?”
The woman smiled. “Why, yes I am. Do I know you?”
Cooper felt Morgan’s excitement. “No, sorry. I know this is going to sound strange, but we’ve—” She glanced up at Cooper, and he squeezed her hand gently. “We’ve been cleaning out the attic at the old McLaren estate in a small town called Fisherman’s Landing, and, well, we’ve found some things.”
The woman’s smile faltered. “Some things.”
Morgan nodded. “A lot of antiques. Paintings. Books. And this journal. It belonged to a V. Ploux.” Morgan reached into the satchel she’d flung over her shoulder and withdrew the leather-bound book. “Is this yours?”
The woman stared at the book for several seconds and then stepped back. “This requires more than a conversation at my door. Please come in.”
Cooper and Morgan followed the elegant lady to her parlor, and they both sat on a long, comfortable settee while their host took the decanter of iced tea from her granddaughter and filled three glasses. When Liliana protested, one stern look from her grandmother was all it took for the girl to exit the room.
“Now then, I suppose introductions are in order?”
Cooper extended his hand, a warm smile in place as he clasped her smaller one. “I’m Cooper Simon, and this is Morgan Campbell.”
The woman’s eyebrows furrowed. “Simon.” She leaned her head back and studied him intently. “You’re one of those Southern Kennedys.”
Cooper’s smile widened. His family had long been known by that moniker. He nodded. “I’m sorry to confirm, but yes, ma’am, I’m one of them.”
The lady’s eyes crinkled as she laughed. “Oh, dear boy. Don’t apologize. I think that young Jack is just what this country needs. I’ve got my money on that boy.”
“He’s one of the good ones.” Cooper felt pride in his cousin. The man was on the fast track to the White House.
The lady took a sip of iced tea. “Now then, I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Veronique Ploux-Gordon, and you’ve already met my granddaughter, Liliana.”
Morgan set down her glass. “Veronique, were you married to Thomas McLaren?”
Veronique’s smile slowly faded, and she shook her head. “No, I was not.”