The right help. Was she talking about a wife here? Charity's hands had gone cold. She got the picture. It would have been difficult to miss it.
All of Ross's ancestors were distinguished people who had done fine things, but they all had remarkable wives to help them along. How remarkable was she? How could she possibly pretend to be worthy of this family?
"And you, my dear," Mrs. Carrington said as she finished her round. "What about your people? Tell me something about them."
If only she had the nerve to say what she thought. " They're quite interesting, actually. My parents were a pair of lovable, crazy con-artists who went to jail for their crimes. My mother now reads palms and fortunes in Hawaii. I'm sure the two of you will get along famously."
But this wasn't a contest of quips, or a one-upmanship of relatives. This was a conversation with the mother of the man she loved. She didn't want to shock her, or to make it totally impossible for Ross. So she smiled instead, covering up the dread and anguish she felt, and she was vague and illusive.
"My family is rather unremarkable, I'm afraid. Not a senator or a judge in the bunch."
"Oh?" One elegantly formed eyebrow arched and the word she'd uttered hung in the air, just the way it had been meant to. "I see."
Yes, Charity thought miserably, and so do I. If only Ross were here to help make her forget what an oddly matched couple they were. Funny, but when she was in his arms, all this didn't matter at all.
Someone did appear in the doorway. Mrs. Carrington looked behind Charity and her face broke into a genuine smile. "Well look who's here. Come on in, darling."
Charity whirled, hoping to see Ross, but instead she found a tall, slender blond man, looking extremely hand some and extremely spoiled.
"Kenny, come on in and meet Charity Ames, Ross's lit tle friend."
"Charity." He took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a Continental kiss, holding her gaze all the while. "I've heard so much about you. But where is the flower behind your ear, the bare feet, the hula skirt? The tales I heard made you sound straight out of a thatched hut."
He cocked an eyebrow his aunt's way. "This doesn't look like beachcomber material to me, Auntie."
Mrs. Carrington's laugh tinkled like broken glass between them.
"Don't exaggerate, Kenny. He is such a tease."
She pat ted his shoulder affectionately. "I'll leave you in his hands. He'll show you around, introduce you to everyone." She pinched his cheek. "I'm off to greet my guests."