“No problem.” She waved him inside with one arm while bouncing Holly in the other. At least she’d get to see the drawings.
“I finished my earlier appointment and thought I would just come over.” He was eyeing the baby with questioning eyes as he toed off his boots. “For some reason I thought this precious little thing belonged to Izzy, the young woman I met before.”
Young? Did he mean that Marlowe wasn’tyoung? She turned to lead him into the living room. Holly was still crying. “And you'd be right. Holly is my niece. Please follow me.” The living room had not been picked up and she really didn't care. Stepping carefully over the Fisher Price toys, she winced when she felt one crunch underfoot. Her main concern was that the kitchen island might have this morning's breakfast all over it. Sam and AuntCate had been busy dealing with that when Marlowe dashed upstairs to change.
“Why don't you have a seat. I'm Marlowe Quinn, Izzy’s sister.” Holly had found Marlowe's ponytail, now slung over one shoulder. The baby’s hands must be sticky. Marlowe could smell the syrup. Her cute little niece began to tug.
Sitting down in the big blue and white striped chair with the fraying arms, he perched on the edge. “I'm Seth. Seth Barrett. The family asked me to bid on the renovation project.”
“Yes and thank you for coming.” Holly’s cries had turned to hiccups. Where was the rest of the family? Certainly they'd heard the bell, which still played “We wish you a Merry Christmas.” Once she’d disentangled Holly’s tiny fingers from her hair, Marlowe tried to concentrate. Her niece kept fidgeting and Marlowe took a seat on the sofa. The last thing she wanted was to drop Holly. If there was a confidence scale of one to ten in childcare, she was feeling like a two. “I'm looking forward to seeing those sketches.”
“Hope you like them.” Seth bounced the roll of plans against one knee. “You must be the niece from Florida. The one who's in real estate?”
He was trying to make conversation and Marlowe was working on her deep breathing. At least Holly had stopped crying. “Right. I guess someone from the family told you that.”
“When your aunt called to ask me to come early, she mentioned you as the niece from Naples, Florida, who had seen a lot of great renovations in her real estate work.”
Thank goodness Aunt Cate appeared in the doorway, looking pert as ever in her khaki wool slacks and a sky blue cashmere sweater. Her hair was perfect but her signature red lipstick looked a bit crooked. She must have dashed upstairs to change when the doorbell rang. “Well, did you two have
a chance to chat?” The cheery note in her aunt's voice deepened Marlowe's suspicions.
Holly had decided that she wanted to stand up on Marlowe's lap. Once she got to her feet, the little thing began to bounce with impatience. “She probably wants to be in that runabout thing,” Aunt Cate said, pointing to the corner.
“Oh, right.” Would she ever get the hang of this? With the baby in her arms, Marlowe got up, kicked the runabout out of the corner with one foot and slid Holly into position.
“Happy now?” Marlowe asked, smoothing the top of Holly’s head.
“You bet,” she said, clear as could be.
“You’re so good with children,” Aunt Cate said with way more confidence than Marlowe felt at that moment. Thank goodness Holly pushed off with a delighted yelp.
An embarrassed chill ran up Marlowe’s spine. Standing, she turned to give her aunt a pointed look. What was this about? Her hair smelled like syrup and she'd have to rinse that out later.
Aunt Cate’s attention had turned to the poor architect. “Are you good with children, Mr. Barrett?”
Oh my word, what question would come next? His shoe size?
“I guess so, although it's been a long time since I’ve had one that small. Tyler's in college now.” Seth's brown eyes lit up when he mentioned his son.
“College. Oh my goodness.” Her aunt looked surprised but her smile stayed put.
“Yep, the years go fast,” Seth said with a touch of nostalgia.
“They sure do,” her aunt agreed. “Have to make the most of every moment.” Marlowe fought a chuckle. By mentioning an older son, Seth may have slipped as a breeding candidate for her niece.
Time to get the show on the road. Her appointment with Gabby was for noon and it was almost eleven o’clock. How long would it take to get up to Petoskey? Stepping back into the hallway, Marlowe called up the steps. “Izzy, Sam! Are you coming down?”
Bedroom doors opened upstairs. “In a second!” Izzy called out.
Wanting to move things along, Marlowe poked her head back into the living room. “Why don't we lay the drawings out in the dining room?” She motioned toward the spacious room on the other side of the hall. The kitchen was probably a mess and she didn’t want syrup and marmalade all over the drawings. She had to get this process going. Marlowe wanted to see the plans before she took off.
Her aunt was the first one through the door, with Seth behind her. Marlowe pinned her with a glance. “No funny stuff now.”
Her aunt threw up her hands, as if she were innocent of all wrongdoing. “Wouldn't dream of it.” That stinker. Marlowe wasn’t buying her aunt’s innocent expression. Going back to the living room where the baby was ramming the runabout into the coffee table, she picked up the whole contraption, child and all, and brought it into the long hallway. That should keep Holly busy for a while. By the time she reached the dining room, Sam had joined them.
Stepping to the wall, Marlowe flipped on the chandeliers and the sconces on the walls. The spacious room with its ancient redfleur-de-liswallpaper and brocade chair cushions to match came to life. Well, as much life as they had left in them. It was as if they had stepped back into Henry VIII’s time, when lords and ladies would gather around a long table with the heavily carved legs.
The day was sunny and Marlowe was glad that the room wasn't as dark as it could be in the late afternoon. She felt strangely protective about Sunnycrest. And she wanted this guy to feel the same. Granted the place was dated in so many ways. She hoped that Seth Barrett had some ideas that would get them on the right path.
