Deadly Ever After by Eva Gates (smart books to read TXT) 📕

grin that I was pleased to see. Aunt Ellen and my father had never exactly gotten on. In all the years of my parents’ marriage, my dad had been to the Outer Banks exactly once before, earlier this year for Josie’s wedding. Mom and Dad met when she, daughter of an Outer Banks fishing family, was still in high school and he, scion of one of New England’s oldest, proudest, and richest families, was on vacation from his law studies. They married far too quickly, without the approval of either of their families. Dad returned to law school and later joined his father’s firm. Mom eagerly took up the life of a Boston socialite, which wasn’t always as easy a life as you might think.

As for me, I was raised in Boston in the social whirl of my parents’ circle, but I escaped every summer to the Outer Banks and the loving arms of Aunt Ellen and Uncle Amos. When my life in Boston imploded, where else would I go but to my favorite place in all the world?

I haven’t regretted that decision for a minute.

I caught Connor’s eye and gave him a smile.

He smiled back.

Our friends gathered around us, exchanging hugs and kisses, slapping backs and shaking hands. Someone pressed a beer into Connor’s hand, and I accepted a glass of champagne. The flawless two-carat diamond set into my engagement ring caught the light of the sun and flashed as though it were sending a signal to ships at sea. Connor had had the ring designed for me, but he hadn’t bought the center diamond; that had been a gift from a library patron whose long-lost family heirloom I’d found.

It was a great party. Laughing and protesting, Connor and I were led to our chairs and told to sit. My dad and Connor’s mom, Marie, toasted the happy couple, and several guests said a few words that had me giggling and Connor actually blushing. Connor’s the mayor of our town, so he’s used to being surrounded by people and being the center of attention, yet I was pleased to see how boyishly embarrassed he was today. This was personal, not political, and he knew the difference.

At Josie and Ellen’s insistence, the gifts were small and inexpensive. Some were practical—a stack of tea towels; some were frivolous—a plastic Halloween pumpkin to stand by the front door; and some were touching—a second-edition copy of Pride and Prejudice in recognition of the opening-night reception for the Jane Austen exhibit at the library at which Connor and I had reconnected for the first time since our teenage years.

Once the presents were opened and words said, the food arrived. Josie owns Josie’s Cozy Bakery, a popular spot in Nags Head, and she’d (as usual) done the catering herself. Not wanting to have the food sitting out in the hot sun, she’d arranged the timing of the party so her staff could bring it after the bakery closed at four. A huge tureen of cold leek-and-potato soup and another of chilled gazpacho were laid out beside platters piled high with a variety of cold meats, cheeses, pickles, sliced vegetables, and condiments, next to Josie’s fabulous mini baguettes and freshly baked rolls. Dessert was a thickly iced hummingbird cake decorated with yellow flowers and two intertwined doves made of fondant.

Cradling my cake and a glass of iced tea (I didn’t want to have more champagne than was good for me), I dropped onto a blanket under the umbrella where the library gang had gathered.

“Great party, Lucy,” Charlene Clayton said.

“Thank Josie, not me,” I said. “I didn’t do anything but show up.”

“Which is all you had to do,” Bertie James, our library director, said. Bertie looked great curled up on a blanket surrounded by the yards of blue fabric of her dress, the long gray hair she wore in a tight bun to work pinned loosely back from her face and allowed to flow in a silver river down her back.

“I like your hair like that,” I said. “I like yours too,” I said to her date, Professor Edward McClanahan. He blinked and touched his tousled mop in confusion. Perhaps I had consumed more champagne than was good for me.

“We’ll all so happy for you, Lucy,” Charlene said. “You and Connor.”

“Of course,” Louise Jane McKaughnan, enthusiastic library volunteer, said. “I could have told you months ago to stop fussing about and get on with it.”

“Of course.” Charlene rolled her eyes at me, and I smothered a laugh.

“I agree with Louise Jane. And that doesn’t happen very often,” Theodore Kowalski said in a flawless English accent. “I don’t think I’ve ever known a couple so perfectly suited to each other.” He straightened the paisley cravat at his throat and peered at me through the round rimless glasses perched on his nose.

“Thanks, Teddy.” I knew Theodore didn’t have a wealth of experience in dealing with people and relationships. He was a rare-book dealer, and he thought the English accent, which he’d learned by watching Downton Abbey, and the old-fashioned clothes made him seem more respectable than the thirtysomething Nags Head native he was. He didn’t even need the spectacles; they contained nothing but clear glass.

“Do you know,” I said, feeling tears welling behind my eyes, “that I love you guys?” Definitely, I’d had more champagne than I should have.

We all leaned in for a spontaneous hug.

“You’re not going anywhere, Lucy,” Theodore said. “You’re staying at the library, aren’t you?”

“Oh yes. I’ve no plans on that score. Except …” I cleared my throat. “I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you, Bertie. Connor and I are looking for a house to buy together.”

Bertie nodded. “I expected that would happen. Sooner or later.”

A spark of interest flashed in Louise Jane’s eyes. She glanced quickly between Bertie and me and then took a deep swallow of her beer.

I live on the fourth floor of the lighthouse, in a tiny perfect apartment I call my Lighthouse Aerie, which