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in your studio?” Nora asked. She was surprised when he hesitated. Did it have something to do with that phone call?
      “A special project,” he answered vaguely.
      Nora stole a glance at Simon. He studiously avoided meeting her eye. Whatever it was, he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. She chewed the inside of her cheek and decided it was in both of their interests to change the subject.
      “You said you’d tell me about the Clarendons,” she reminded him. “Tell me their story.”
      Simon slipped off his shoes and shoved aside a pile of art magazines to prop his long feet on the coffee table. Darby jumped up and settled on his lap, and he rubbed the dog’s ears.
      Nora slipped her own loafers off and grabbed her mug of tea. Her feet didn’t reach the floor, so she curled them to one side and pushed a throw pillow under her baby bulge to support it. Comfortable, she settled back to hear the story.
      “There are two brothers, the older Edmunde and the younger Sommer. Edmunde was a big man with a hearty laugh and what my mum delicately called ‘a roving eye.’ He could have had any woman he wanted, he was that charming, but the one he wanted was an actress he saw on stage in London. He was smitten and followed her all over Europe as the play toured, until he captured her heart. Julia was a beautiful woman who gave up her career to marry him and settle here. Everyone thought she would tire of Edmunde and miss her life in the theater, but she seemed to like being buried in these hills.”
      Simon was a natural storyteller. Nora closed her eyes and pictured the events as they unfolded.
      “They lived at Clarendon Hall with Sommer and Antonia, who had already been married a few years without children. Antonia wanted children desperately and became depressed about it. But she and Julia became great friends, and they finally got pregnant around the same time. The family owned huge amounts of property at the time and had their fingers in several industries, including agriculture. They rented land to farmers and herders, while other tenants lived in cottages on their land. When they were happy, the town prospered from their generosity. Rumor had it they might even build a new school.”
      Simon paused to take a sip of his laced tea.
      “Sommer was always interested in horticulture and was known for his gardens. Just before the babies were due, he took a trip north to a factory in Scotland, where prize seeds of his were being grown for hybrid perennials. On his way home, there was a terrible accident: A lorry pulled out of a rest stop and didn’t see his black car coming over the top of a hill. It was a miracle he survived, but there were severe injuries to his spinal cord. The shock and strain put Antonia into labor, and while she was delivering, Julia went into labor, too.”
      Nora’s eyes popped opened. “What happened?”
      “Antonia delivered Keith, but Julia developed complications. She delivered a little girl, but she died a few hours later.” Simon’s voice softened. “Her baby was sickly, and Edmunde refused to see or hold her. He blamed the poor thing for Julia’s death. I think the infant only lived a matter of hours and then she died, too.”
      “What a heartache for them all,” Nora said. She placed a hand across her belly. A surge of affection for the child she carried rushed over her, and she closed her eyes. Please, she silently prayed, let my baby be born healthy.
      “It was a bad time for the whole town. Everywhere, people mourned Julia and the baby, while they worried about Sommer and his accident. It took a long time for things to settle down. Baby Keith was a delight to everyone—but his uncle, Edmunde, became withdrawn. As the years passed, he took to drinking, and it spun out of control. He never got over Julia’s death and became reclusive except for drunken forays and bouts of womanizing. About two years ago, he had a terrible stroke. One entire side