“It clicks. And she would ask herself, wouldn’t she, how or why anyone would connect her to Anders’s murder. How would she ever be brought into it?” Roarke ran a hand down Eve’s back as they descended the stairs. “Because she couldn’t anticipate you. And neither, no matter how well she planned, could Ava.”
Eve stopped at the parlor doorway, winced. Charles and Louise stood inside, wrapped together like pigs in a blanket, sharing a big, sloppy one in front of the parlor fire.
She slipped her hands in her pockets. “You guys need a privacy room?”
“And there’s the warm welcome,” Roarke murmured as the couple eased apart. And his eyebrows rose as they grinned at each other, then at their hosts like a couple of cats with bellies full of cream.
“Sorry to drop by so late,” Charles began. “I got your message that you needed to speak to me, and since we were out—”
“And that’s not the reason at all.” With her cheeks flushed and glowing, Louise laughed and leaned against Charles. “We wanted to share our news, and used the ’link message as an excuse.”
“Congratulations.” Roarke crossed over to shake Charles’s hand, to kiss Louise’s cheek.
“We haven’t told you the news yet,” Louise complained.
“You don’t have to, not with that rock you’re wearing blinding us.” Eve stood where she was, studying them both. “When did all this happen?”
“Tonight, a couple of hours ago.” Louise shot out her hand with the diamond sizzling. “Look, look, look.”
The woman was a doctor, Eve thought. A tough-minded, strong-spined woman with a solid core of sense. And she was bouncing like a spring over a chunk of rock. But Eve walked over, let Louise hold the ring up to her face. “Shiny,” Eve said.
“It’s exquisite.” Roarke poked a finger into Eve’s ribs. “I have all her taste in jewelry. Ah, Summerset, we’ll keep the pie,” he said as his man wheeled in a cart, “but we’ll want to switch out the coffee for champagne. We’re celebrating Charles and Louise’s engagement.”
“B
est wishes. I’ll see to it right away.”
“I feel like I’ve already had a couple bottles. I’m so giddy!” Louise threw her arms around Eve, squeezed. “We’re thinking May, late May or early June. Something small, sweet. But I’m getting ahead of it. Tell them the rest, Charles.”
“We’ll be moving into a house in the West Village.”
“Oh, God, it’s fabulous. One of those amazing old brownstones, wonderfully rehabbed. It even has a courtyard garden in the back. Working fireplaces, three levels. I’ve already earmarked a room on the third floor for my home office. And the lower level is perfect for Charles’s clients.”
Eve opened her mouth, slammed it back shut. But apparently some sound had snuck out before she zipped it.
“Not those clients.” Charles shot Eve a look. “Part three of the news is I’ve retired, and am about to begin a new career in psychology, specializing in sex therapy.”
“That’s what you were doing with Mira.” Eve punched his shoulder.
“Yes. Ouch. She’s been an enormous help to me in the transition. A lot of LCs are married, or get married, and manage very well. I didn’t want to be one of them.”
“Well, good, because that’s just screwy. I can say that,” Eve complained when Roarke poked her again, “because he’s not doing the screwy. Jeez, like you weren’t thinking it.”
“Excellent timing,” Roarke announced when Summerset brought in the champagne. He popped the cork himself, and began to pour while Louise wandered over.
“Wow, look at that gorgeous pie. Look how beautiful the lemon is against the white meringue.” She scanned over to Eve. “You’d look good in a lemony yellow.”
“I’m more interested in eating the lemony yellow.”
“I’m thinking wedding again—matron of honor dress. Charles and I want the two of you to stand up for us. We met through you.”
“We’d be absolutely honored.” The quick glance Roarke sent Eve was the equivalent of a poke. He passed around champagne, lifted his glass. “To your happiness, and the life you’ll make together.”
“Thank you.” Charles laid a hand on Roarke’s arm, then leaned over to kiss Eve, very softly on the lips. “Thank you.”
“This is so…” Louise blinked at tears. “Everything. I’m so happy, so beyond happy. And now there’s champagne and pie.”
“Don’t drip on it,” Eve advised and made Louise laugh.