"Martinis?" Devlin asked.

"Yep," Dr. Sam said.

"We're having wine with dinner," Emily put in quickly.

"Then I shall satisfy myself with a sherry, if you have it," Devlin replied.

"One sherry coming up," Dr. Sam answered, putting the martini pitcher down. "I'm Sam Seligmann, town doctor. My wife, Rina."

"You were the driver for Emily the other day in the city, weren't you?" Devlin asked, now remembering the brief glimpse he had had of Rina Seligmann. "You're Aaron Fischer's sister. Am I right?"

"His little sister," Rina responded with a grin. "He was almost eight when I came into the world. The prince of the family until my arrival." She chuckled.

"And he's terrified of her," Emily said, laughing.

"As well it should be," Rina Seligmann answered smugly.

Devlin laughed too. "I'm an only child," he told them. "I envy you a sibling."

The small talk continued back and forth, with Emily running in and out of the kitchen overseeing her meal. Finally she announced it was ready, and they all trooped to the table. Taking her place at the head of the table, she asked Devlin to sit at the other end, and the Seligmanns took their place on either side, as was their custom.

"Will you carve the roast beast?" she asked him, and he saw she had placed the platter with the meat before him. Before it was a carving knife and fork with bone handles. They were obviously very old.

The meat had been done perfectly. As he carved, he saw the medium-rare pieces fall from his knife from the outside, and the very rare bit of the meat was farther inside. He asked for preferences, and placed the appropriate slices upon the plates. The platter was then taken from him by Emily to be set upon the sideboard. A bowl of exquisitely roasted potatoes was passed. Then a smaller platter of fresh asparagus. There were two gravy boats: one with the au jus, and the other with a flawless Hollandaise sauce for the vegetable. There were dainty hot rolls, a silver dish of sweet butter, and tomato aspic salad on separate plates to each diner's left.

As they ate he learned that Dr. Sam's family had been early settlers of Egret Pointe. He was surprised until Dr. Sam explained that his ancestors had come to the Americas in 1709. It wasn't, Dr. Sam said, a well-known fact of American history, but there had been a number of Jewish families who had emigrated then. "We fought in the Revolution," he said proudly. "On the winning side, of course."

"And then he went and married a girl from the Upper West Side whose family was chased out of Russia by a troop of Cossacks," Rina said.

"But that's what makes our country so great," Emily spoke up. "We're such a wonderful mixture of peoples and cultures." She was glad she had asked the Seligmanns to help her defuse what might have been an awkward evening.

When they had finished almost everything Emily had prepared, she and Rina cleared the table for the dessert while the two men sat talking.

"God, he has such charm," Rina said, scraping the plates for the dishwasher. "He looks like a Celtic prince, and that delicious hint of Ireland in his voice." She sighed.

"He's very nice," Emily murmured.

"Huh?" Rina replied, looking closely at her younger companion. "Oh, my! You're attracted to him, aren't you, Emily Shanski? Well, why not, says I?"

"I don't even know him," Emily protested. "We just met on Tuesday. We've spoken once on the phone, and today is Friday."

"You've got an itch for him," Rina accused her with a grin. "I've known you most of your life, Em, and I've never known you to be attracted to any man. There have been times I've wondered if you weren't gay, like Aaron."

"I haven't got an itch, Rina, and I'm not a lesbian," Emily responded. "I just haven't had time for men, and I sure as hell didn't want to be like Katy and Joe. Have you any idea how hard it was for me in high school, with most of the same teachers they had had always watching, always waiting for me to fall from grace?"

"They never knew your mother had fallen from grace, as you so dramatically put it, until she was graduated, and at Wellesley," Rina said. "Thanks to your grandmothers your impending arrival was quite the surprise to everyone in Egret Pointe."

"That's what made it so hard for me," Emily replied. "Katy fooled them. Was I fooling them? Why do you think I worked so hard to get out of here, and into college?"

"Water under the bridge," Rina said. "You're a best-selling author now with a hot new editor. He isn't married. You're both fancy-free. Hell, if I were you I'd lay him!"

"Why does everyone keep saying that to me?" Emily wanted to know.

"Who else said it?" Rina asked.


"Savannah. I talked to her the other day. He was her editor in London, and I wanted to know more about him," Emily answered.

"And?" Rina's look of curiosity was so blatant that Emily had to laugh.

"To quote Savannah, the women flock to him like flies to jam, but he likes to pick his own friends," Emily said. "I doubt I'm his type."

"I think you're just his type. He's Irish, for heaven's sake. They like their women intelligent, good cooks, and just a little helpless at the right moments. You can play helpless, can't you, sweetie? Where's the dessert?"

"Fridge," Emily said. "I am not helpless, Rina."

Rina Seligmann opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a large glass bowl. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of having him between your legs, because I won't believe you. A woman would have to be made of stone to look at that man and not want him. What is this?" She looked suspiciously at the bowl she was holding.

"Chocolate trifle," Emily answered. "I couldn't make up my mind between mousse and trifle. So I made chocolate lady fingers, and mousse for filling with the sliced strawberries."

Rina began to laugh. "Yep, you're hot for him."

"How can you say that?" Emily wanted to know. It was embarrassing to be so damned transparent. Did Michael Devlin see what Rina saw?

"The double chocolate is a dead giveaway," Rina replied.

Emily blushed furiously. "Do you think he'll notice?" she asked nervously.

"Nah," Rina reassured her. "But you do know he likes you, don't you?"

"Rina, we've just met," Emily said exasperated.

"Look, sweetie, if there is one thing I understand, it's men. I know, I know. I've been married to Sam since I turned twenty, but I still know human nature. It isn't how long you've known someone. If there's chemistry it's there from the start. And there is definitely chemistry between you two. Enjoy it! You've worked hard all your life trying to make up for what you consider Katy and Joe's mistake. You weren't a mistake, Emily. Oh, I know. Your parents weren't lovers, and their coming together was a onetime thing. But they were best friends from the time they were in diapers. You were created from that loving friendship. You don't have to be a saint to make up for them. They created you, had you, and moved on with their lives. Time for you to move on, sweetie. Is there any whipped cream to go with this devilish creation?"

Emily didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Rina Seligmann," she said. "Since the grans died, you have been my rock."

"Of course I have," Rina replied calmly, brushing away the single tear that had slipped down Emily's cheek. "You could be my daughter, sweetie. And I could never have enough daughters. Sam will tell you that. 'A son's a son till he takes a wife. But a daughter's a daughter all of her life.' My mother always said that, but if truth be known my brother was a better daughter to our mother than I ever was." She chuckled.

"I'll make the whipped cream," Emily said. "It won't take long. Check to see if the men want coffee or tea. And would you take that bottle of ice wine in? The glasses are here on the tray." She pulled out the dark, slender bottle of the sweet dessert wine and handed it to Rina. Then she set about whipping the heavy cream, transferring the finished product into a cut-glass bowl with a scalloped silver spoon to serve it.

They had all decided upon tea, and Rina brewed a large pot of American black-leaf tea from the only tea plantation in the United States that was located outside of Charleston, South Carolina. Emily's friend Savannah Banning had introduced them to it. Emily spooned out the dark-chocolate trifle, adding a lavish dollop of the freshly whipped cream to each serving, and passing the plates around. There was virtual silence as the diners devoured it. Rina was in charge of the teapot and the ice wine.

Finally Michael Devlin pushed back his chair and sighed deeply. "I do not know when I last ate such a grand meal," he said, his green eyes on Emily.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said almost shyly.

Rina saw Devlin's eyes soften. Hoo , boy, she thought. He wants her, all right. I wonder how long it will take for them both to realize it. She looked at her husband and saw that Sam was finally noticing the attraction between Emily and Michael Devlin too. Rina's eyes met her husband's in silent understanding, and Dr. Sam stood up.

"I hate to eat and run," he said, "but I've got rounds at the hospital early. Rina, come! Emily, as always, a wonderful dinner. Thank you, darling, for asking us. Mick, delighted to meet a fellow rare-roast-beef lover. I hope we'll see you again."

"I hope so too, Dr. Sam," Devlin replied.

"I'll see you to the door," Emily said, and she did, waving her two friends off as their car pulled away from in front of her house.

"Where do they live?" Devlin asked. He was standing next to her, she realized.

"A subdivision nearby. It's called Ansley at Egret Pointe," Emily said. "It's the only one in town, and has been there for years."

"When I came through the village I didn't see any serious shopping facilities," he replied, "and that wonderful beef had to have come from a real butcher. Let's sit. It's lovely out here on your big porch."

"The dishes," she protested.

"I'll bet you and Rina have everything in the dishwasher but for the dessert things," he said softly. "It's twilight, and I hear a robin singing. They have the sweetest song, and you hear them only at dusk and at dawn in the spring. Spring is already half-gone, Emily. You won't hear the robins until next year if you miss them now." He sat in a large wicker rocker, motioning her into a nearby chair.

She sat. "I never knew a man who recognized a robin's song, or knew when they sang," she told him quietly.

"I grew up in the country," he said. "Actually, I prefer it to the city."

"I couldn't live in the city," Emily admitted. "My father does, and my mother lives just outside of D.C. But I'm not a city girl at all. I have lived in Egret Pointe my whole life, and I never want to live anywhere else. I suppose that makes me a world class stick-in-the-mud." She laughed. "Did you like living in London? It's a wonderful city."

"I was very fortunate," he said. "I lived in an elegant little row house directly across from a lovely park. Actually, I own it. I've let it out for a year to a wealthy American widow, complete with my butler, Mr. Harrington, until I see how things go now that I'm back. I'm not certain I want to stay here."

"Oh." She sounded disappointed. "Why not?" she asked him. Then, "It's J.P., isn't it? She really is a dreadful creature, but she has made Stratford exceedingly profitable, and in publishing today profit is the name of the game. Martin couldn't do without her."

"You know what's happening then?" he said quietly.

"Yes, I know," Emily answered him candidly. Then she stood up. "I really want to get the table cleared and those dishes started, Mick."

"I'll help," he said, escorting her into the house.

They hardly spoke another word as together they cleared the rest of the dishes and glasses from the table. When everything was in the dishwasher and Emily had started it, she told him to take off the lovely Irish linen cloth that had covered her Duncan Phyfe dining table, and gather up the napkins.

"Essie, my housekeeper, will do them on Monday," she said, putting them in a basket in the laundry room off the big kitchen.

"Is that a laundry tub?" he asked her.


"One of the benefits of living in an old house," she replied as she set up the coffeemaker for the morning. "First one down turns it on," she told him.

"I'm not usually an early riser on Saturdays," he admitted with a grin.

"I thought we were going to work tomorrow," Emily said. "I have so much to tell you, and I've already fleshed out the story, Mick."