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Three

“You can’t be serious,” Lily told Jack, unable to believe the man had actually suggested that they marry.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

“Then you’re either crazy or you’re a fool,” she said and moved away from him. She retreated behind her desk, wanting the sense of normalcy and control that it represented.

“Why? Because I want to give our baby a real home with both of its parents? It sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

“But we don’t know anything about each other.”

He walked over to the desk and took the seat directly across from her. “That’s easily fixed. Ask away. What do you want to know about me?”

“Jack …”

“All right, I’ll start. My full name is John Ryan Cartwright, IV, but I’ve been called Jack since I was in diapers. I’m single, never been married. My parents are Sandra and John Cartwright. I have two sisters, Courtney and Elizabeth. My Cartwright ancestors were English Puritans from Massachusetts who were among the first settlers in the state. On my mother’s side my claim to fame is Nathan Hale as an ancestor,” he said.

“Jack, this isn’t necessary,” she informed him, because just listening to him drove home how truly unsuitable they were. She didn’t belong in his world, never would.

“It is necessary because we’ve created a child together, a child who’s going to need both of its parents. If the only way to achieve that is by the two of us learning about each other, then I want you to know everything there is to know about me.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, Lily didn’t waste her breath trying to reason with him. Once he was finished, she would try to make him see that marriage was not a viable option.

“Now let’s see, where was I? You already know that I’m a lawyer with the firm of Cartwright and Associates which was founded by my great-great-great grandfather. I became the firm’s managing partner last year when my father retired. I serve on the board of Eastwick Cares. I also serve on the boards of two other nonprofit agencies because I believe one person can make a difference and that by giving back to the community we make that difference. I own my home and have a boat that I like to take out on Long Island Sound whenever I get the chance. I gross roughly $250,000 a year from my law practice and have a stock portfolio that produces another six figures. My favorite food is spaghetti. My favorite dessert is bananas Foster.” Rising, he came around the desk to where she stood. He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “And I have a real weakness for redheads with skin like silk.”

Lily closed her eyes a moment and, just as she had done that night in December, felt herself grow weak at his touch.

“Marry me, Lily. Make a home with me for our baby.”

He made it sound so simple. Get married, raise their baby together.

“It is that simple,” he told her.

Only then did Lily realize she’d spoken aloud. Needing to break the hypnotic pull he seemed to have on her, she stepped back and crossed her arms. “You’re wrong. It isn’t simple,” she insisted. And she couldn’t afford to make the mistake of believing it was. She’d done that far too often growing up. She wouldn’t do it now. Not when she had her baby’s happiness at stake.

“Why not?”

“Because we come from entirely different worlds.”

“If you’re talking about the money—“

“I’m not,” she said. “But it is a factor. For starters, I don’t own my home. I live in a rental apartment. My annual salary is substantially less than yours. I have a modest savings account and a small IRA account, but no stock portfolio. I have a five-year-old car and a bike, but no boat.”

“Those are material things. They’re not important.”

“It’s not just the monetary differences, Jack. You have ancestors you can trace back for generations. You have parents, sisters, a family. You know who you are, where you came from,” she said, trying to explain. “Do you know how far back I can trace my ancestors? Twenty-seven years ago—to me. I do know that my name is Lily because that’s what the note pinned on my blanket said and there’s an L engraved on this locket that I was wearing,” she said, lifting the gold locket. “As for the name Miller, it was the name of the street where the church I was left in was located.”

“Lily, I’m sorry—“

“Don’t be,” she said and turned away, not wanting to see pity in his eyes, not wanting him to see the tears threatening in hers. “Surely you can see now that the idea of us marrying, even if it is for the baby’s sake, is ridiculous.”

“Why? Because you don’t have some pedigree? Do you really think that I’m that shallow? That I would judge you on the basis of something as inconsequential as where you were born and who your parents were?”

“I’d hardly call not knowing who you are or where you came from inconsequential. For all we know, I could be the daughter of an ax murderer.”

“Or the daughter of a king,” he countered.

But kings didn’t leave their babies. And wealthy, handsome men from prestigious families didn’t marry orphans who not even their mothers had wanted.

She felt him come up behind her. “So maybe I don’t know where you were born or who your family is, but you know what I do know?” He rested his hands upon her shoulders. “I know that you’re kind and caring. I know that as a counselor, you’ve made a difference in the lives of dozens and dozens of kids. I know that because of you a lot of the kids who’ve come through that door have a chance to make it, because counseling them isn’t just a job to you. You care about them.”

Since she’d become pregnant, her emotions had been on a roller coaster. Tears which she’d seldom shed even at the darkest times in her life were now always just a look or a word away.

“I also know that while you may not have planned this baby, you already love it and that you’ll do what’s right for it.” He turned her to face him, tipped her chin up with his fingertip. “And the right thing is for us to get married. To provide a real home and family for our baby.”

“But we can do that without getting married,” she insisted.

“How? By shuffling him or her from your apartment to my house? What kind of life is that for a child? What our baby needs is security, Lily—and I don’t mean just financially. Our baby needs a real family and a real home with both parents there to tuck him in at night, to have both of us there when she wakes up from a bad dream. Don’t you want our baby to have those things?”

“Of course I do,” she told him. Being part of a real family had been the one thing she’d wanted all of her life. It had been what she’d put on her list for Santa. It had been what she’d wished for each time she’d blown out the candles on a birthday cake. And it had been the one thing she had never had. That she still didn’t have.

“We can never give our baby those things as single parents.”

She knew he was right. Yet a part of her couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “What about love?” she asked and lowered her gaze. The one thing she had always believed was that when she did marry, it would be to someone she loved and who loved her in return. “Marriage is more than sharing a house with someone. What chance would a marriage between us have when we don’t love one another?”

“Who says we need to love one another? We like and respect each other. We’re going to share a child. And we already know that we’re sexually compatible. There are a lot of very successful marriages that are based on a great deal less.”

Lily jerked her eyes upward. She had been so focused on what a marriage between them would mean to their baby that she hadn’t considered what it would mean to her, to him. “You mean you would want this to be a real marriage?”

He smiled at her and Lily felt that fluttering in her stomach just as she had that night at the ball when he had looked at her the first time. “I don’t see why it shouldn’t be. I intend to honor our vows and would expect you to do the same. Since I don’t think either of us plans to lead a life of celibacy, it only makes sense that we would share a bed.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said because everything he said made sense.

“I am. You’ll see.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I think the sooner we get married the better.”

A wave of panic hit her. “But what about your family, your friends? What will they think? What will people say?”

“They’ll think I’m a lucky guy,” he assured her.

Or maybe they would think he’d lost his mind. Perhaps they both had because she was going to marry Jack Cartwright. She only hoped neither of them lived to regret it.

She was as skittish as a colt, Jack thought as he looked across the seat of his car to Lily. Her hands were clenched, her body stiff and she’d had him stop twice during the thirty-minute drive for bathroom breaks. She’d claimed it was a hazard of being pregnant, but he suspected a big part of it was nerves.

Not that he could blame her. He had surprised himself when he’d blurted out that they should get married. But within minutes of doing so, he’d realized it was the right thing to do. He’d known right away that Lily had way too much pride to allow him to take care of her and the baby financially. So he hadn’t even bothered suggesting it. Besides he had meant what he said—a kid really did need both parents. And while he might not have planned on becoming a father in quite this way, now that it was happening, he wanted to be a real father in every way. That meant providing his child with the same love and security he’d known as a child. And the only way to do that was for him and Lily to become man and wife.

Once he’d made that decision, he had approached her objections as he did an opponent in the courtroom. One by one he had shot those objections down. He hadn’t exactly played fair, he admitted. When she’d told him about her family—or lack thereof—he could only imagine how painful and lonely it must have been for her growing up. So he had used her own feelings about family against her and gotten her to agree to marry him. And before she could change her mind, he’d set things into motion—first by hustling her to the courthouse the next day to get a marriage license and now by taking her to meet his parents.

Jack thought about the ring in his pocket. She’d claimed she didn’t need an engagement ring when he’d suggested they shop for one. He’d never seen her wear anything except the gold locket. And while it was possible she was one of those rare women who didn’t covet jewelry, after checking into her background he suspected few people had thought to give Lily shiny baubles. He also doubted that she would consider jewelry as one of the basic necessities in life. He wanted her to have the ring. He’d even planned to give it to her when he’d arrived at her apartment to pick her up for the trip to his parents’ home. But one look at her and he could see she was a bundle of nerves. So he’d decided to wait.

“Are you sure I’m dressed okay?” she asked.

“You look beautiful,” he assured her. It was true. The silky skirt skimmed her still-trim hips and gave him a glimpse of those killer legs. The apricot-colored sweater top gently curved over her breasts and the large-grapefruit-sized bump in her belly. Were it not for that bulge, he would never have known she was pregnant.

“Is it much farther?” she asked.

“About ten minutes,” he said. “Do you need me to stop again?”

“No. I can wait.”

When he saw her plucking at her skirt, he reached over and caught her hand. “Try to relax. It’s just brunch.”

“I know.”

But he knew the prospect of brunch with his parents and sisters had made her anxious. He assumed it was nerves that accounted for her allowing him to continue holding her hand for the remainder of the drive. “This is it,” he said as he approached the gates to his parents’ home. After he’d punched in the code, the gates swung open and he drove along the landscaped driveway leading to the house.

“It’s beautiful. And big.”

“Not big enough when you have two younger sisters,” he said, hoping to ease the rush of nerves he detected. “All I can say is thank heavens for the mudroom. It’s the one place I could go and not worry about being invaded by females.”

She smiled. “I’m trying to picture you as a boy dodging your sisters.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t easy,” he told her and pulled the car to a stop in the circular drive. Quickly, he got out and opened the passenger’s door for Lily. He offered his hand, and once again she took it.

“Thanks,” she said.

When the front door opened, he squeezed her fingers and whispered in her ear, “Whatever you do, don’t eat anything my mother cooked.”

Before she could respond, his mother was there. “Lily, I can’t tell you how glad I am to meet you. I’m Sandra, Jack’s mother.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Cartwright,” she began.

“It’s Sandra, dear,” his mother told her and ignoring Lily’s proffered hand, she hugged her instead.

“Sandra, don’t smother the girl,” his father said as he appeared at the door. “I’m John Cartwright.”

“Mr. Cartwright,” Lily said and looked relieved when his father merely took her hand in both of his.

“Son,” he said, acknowledging him with a nod. “You’d both better come inside before your sisters and Alice attack this poor girl on the doorstep.”

“Yes, yes, come in,” his mother told her. “I do hope you’re hungry, Lily. Alice has whipped up a fabulous brunch for us and I made my famous liver mousse.”

Jack leaned close and whispered to Lily, “Remember what I told you. Stay away from the liver mousse.”

But Lily didn’t stay away from the liver mousse. Jack bit back a wince as he watched her eat another spoonful, then reach for her water glass again. “Be sure to save room for dessert,” Jack told her. “Alice makes the best strawberry shortcake in Connecticut.”

“It’s true,” his sister Courtney chimed in. “She uses real whipped cream.”

“It sounds delicious,” Lily said.

“Jack tells us you’re a counselor for Eastwick Cares,” his mother said. “He says that you work with the troubled teens in the program.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She looked up, relief in her eyes as Alice whisked away the liver mousse. “Thank you.”

“Lily’s really amazing with those kids,” Jack said. “The number of teens who stay in school and stick with the program has nearly doubled since she’s been there.”

“It’s the kids who do the work,” she informed him. “All I do is listen.”

“Your family must be very proud of you,” his mother responded.

“Lily doesn’t have any family,” Jack informed his mother and wanted to kick himself for not telling his mother to steer clear of the subject.

“What Jack means is that I’m an orphan. I never knew who my parents were.”

“I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t know. Jack.” She said his name sharply. “You should have said something to us. Now I’ve gone and embarrassed this dear girl.”

“I’m not embarrassed, Mrs. Cartwright, and please don’t feel you need to apologize or feel sorry for me. The truth is, I’ve always believed I was pretty lucky because I’ve never had to worry about living up to anyone’s expectations but my own.”

“She’s right,” Courtney said. “Is it too late for me to be an orphan?”

Everyone laughed and Jack was relieved to have some of the tension ebb.

“Well, once you and Jack are married, you’ll be a Cartwright and we’ll be your family,” his mother said.

“Are you going to take the name Cartwright or keep your maiden name?” his sister Elizabeth asked.

“Actually, I haven’t really thought about it,” Lily replied.

“I think when I get married I’ll keep my own name,” Courtney declared.

“In my day, a woman took her husband’s name,” his mother said.

“Whatever Lily decides will be fine with me,” Jack told them, wanting to end the discussion.

“So, Lily, have you and Jack decided on a date and place for the wedding yet?” Courtney asked.

“Not yet,” Lily said. “Everything has happened kind of fast.”

“I was thinking that next weekend would be good and unless Lily wants to have a church service, I thought we would just go to the justice of the peace.” He looked across the table at her. “Does that sound all right to you?”

“The justice of the peace sounds fine.”

“A justice of the peace? You can’t be serious, Jack,” his mother proclaimed. “A woman’s wedding day is one of the most important days of her life. I’m sure Lily doesn’t want to take her vows in some dark and dingy office. Do you, dear?”

“I really don’t mind,” Lily offered.

“It’s hardly a dark and dingy office, mother. The building underwent a million-dollar renovation just last year,” Jack pointed out.

“That’s beside the point. You and Lily deserve someplace more suitable.”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Cartwright—“

“It’s Sandra, dear. You must call me Sandra.”

“Sandra,” Lily repeated. “The justice of the peace’s office is fine with me. I really don’t want a lot of fuss.”

“Well, you deserve to be fussed over,” his mother declared. “And I simply won’t hear of you being married in any justice of the peace’s office. Your wedding day should be a memorable affair for both of you and we intend to make it one. We just have to figure out where to have it.”

“May and June are big months for weddings,” Courtney pointed out. “I’m sure all the good places are already booked. My friend Sue had to reserve the Eastwick Hotel for her reception a year ago.”

“Which is why we’ll go to the justice of the peace’s office,” Jack insisted.

“Nonsense,” his mother said and waved him off.

“Mother, why don’t we just have it here?” Courtney suggested. “We could hold it in the gardens.”

“That’s a wonderful idea, Courtney. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it,” his mother said. “Everything’s in bloom right now and the temperatures are mild. The garden would be the perfect setting for a wedding.”

“We can set up an arbor of roses and we should drape the guests’ chairs with white covers and bows,” Courtney suggested.

“Yes. Yes. And we’ll have a white runner for Lily to walk down the aisle—” his mother added.

“Before you start picking out wedding china for them, maybe you should ask Lily and Jack if this is what they want,” Elizabeth pointed out.

Jack mouthed the words thank you. He could have kissed his sister in that moment. At twenty-six, Elizabeth was seven years his junior. No one had been more surprised than him when the kid sister who’d gone off to college with her cheerleader’s pom-poms had returned home a serious young woman and enrolled in law school. It had also been a surprise when she’d chosen to work in the D.A.'s office instead of joining the family firm.

“Elizabeth’s right,” his father said.

“But, John—“

“Sandra, it’s up to them,” his father informed her. “Jack? Lily? How do you feel about having the wedding here?”

“It’s Lily’s call,” Jack answered and looked across the table at her.

“Please, Lily,” Courtney began from her seat beside Lily. She grabbed Lily’s hand and Jack recognized the look Courtney offered up to Lily. His baby sister had used that same sad-eyed look on him to get her way from the time she could walk. “Say you’ll do the wedding here, Lily. Please.”

“I hate to see everyone go to so much trouble,” Lily told her.

“It won’t be any trouble at all,” Courtney said. “Will it, Mother?”

“None whatsoever.”

“We can use Felicity Farnsworth. She’s a wedding planner,” Courtney explained. “She’s handling Emma Dearborn and Reed Kelly’s wedding for them and I heard Emma say at the club last week that she turned over all the details for the wedding to Felicity and that she’s doing a fabulous job.”

“That’s an excellent idea. I’ll call Emma’s mother and see if she can get Felicity today. We have a lot to do. I don’t think we can afford to wait until tomorrow to get started.” She looked over at Lily. “Lily, you’ll need to tell me what flowers you like and—“

“Hang on a second, Mother,” Jack said before things went any further. “I haven’t heard Lily agree to any of this yet.” He looked over at Lily. “What do you think? Are you okay about having the wedding here? Because if you’re not, all you have to do is say so.”

Lily looked around the table at the four pairs of eyes trained on her, then back to him. “I’m okay with it.”

“Good, then I’ll see if I can reach Mrs. Dearborn for Felicity’s number. In the meantime, you and I will need to work on a guest list and a menu,” his mother told Lily. “I’m thinking mini beef Wellingtons, a pasta station and maybe I could make some mini spinach quiches—“

“No,” Jack said in unison with his father and both of his sisters. The joint protest did what none of them singularly could have done. It stopped his mother cold.

“But you all loved my spinach quiche. What about you, Lily? Do you like spinach quiche?”

“I … um … I’m not really a spinach fan,” she said and dropped her gaze.

Jack smiled, proud of Lily and not at all surprised that she learned fast. “You heard Lily, mother. The bride doesn’t like spinach quiche.”

“Well, I could do a quiche Lorraine instead,” his mother suggested.

“Darling, you’re going to have far too much to do to bother with cooking,” his father told her. “Why don’t we let Alice and the caterers handle the food?”

She seemed to consider that a moment. “You’re probably right. We do have a lot to do and not much time to do it. Courtney, would you see if you can get Mrs. Dearborn on the phone for me? And, Elizabeth, could you get me a notepad and a pen?” She stood and placed her napkin on the table. “Lily and Jack, let’s go into the library and start making a list. John, would you tell Alice we’ll have coffee and dessert there?”

“Of course.”

The rest of them pushed their chairs away from the table and stood. Jack walked around the table to Lily. She had a glazed look in her eyes and he could only imagine how overwhelmed she must be. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Sandra, why don’t you ladies go ahead and get started?” John said. “I’d like to have a word with Jack.”

Once his mother, Lily and his sisters had left the dining room, Jack waited for his father to return from the kitchen where he’d passed along the instructions to Alice. He hadn’t been surprised that his father wanted to speak with him. He had hit his parents with the news about Lily’s pregnancy and announced their plans to marry only the previous morning. Both of them had been shocked, but there had been no recriminations, no lectures—only their unconditional support and love. Yet he hadn’t missed the concern in his father’s eyes.

“Why don’t we go outside so I can smoke a cigar,” his father suggested when he returned to the dining room. “Your mother doesn’t like me smelling up the place.”

“Mother doesn’t like you smoking those at all,” Jack reminded him.

His father shrugged. “It’s my only vice.”

It was true, Jack thought. His father truly was a good man, an honest man who was devoted to his wife and family. It had been his father who had made him want to follow in his footsteps and study law. It had been his father who had taught him responsibility. And it was because of the lessons that John Cartwright had taught him that he’d known that marrying Lily was the right thing to do.

Once he’d lit his cigar, his father said, “Let’s walk a bit.”

Located on five acres, his parents’ home looked like what it was—a wealthy family’s estate. In addition to the five bedrooms and seven baths, the fourteen-thousand-square-foot house had every amenity: five fireplaces, a library, a billiard room, garden room and a gourmet kitchen. The place even boasted tennis courts, a pool and a pool house with a full kitchen, living room, bedroom and Japanese bath. Yet, his parents had managed to make the place a real home, welcoming and warm. He hoped Lily had found both his family and their home that way.

“Lily seems like a nice girl,” his father said as he puffed on the cigar.

“She is,” Jack told him. “She was pretty nervous about coming here today and meeting you. I think she expected you all to resent her for what’s happening. So I appreciate how kind you’ve been under the circumstances.”

“I don’t see any reason why we should resent her. She didn’t make this baby by herself.”

“No, she didn’t,” Jack said. He had to give his parents credit. Since he’d dropped the bombshell yesterday about Lily’s pregnancy and his intention to marry her, his parents had offered no recriminations or unsolicited advice. The only thing either of them had asked was whether he was sure the child was his. Once he had assured them it was, they had simply asked how they could help.

His father followed the path toward the small stream that ran along the property. Growing up, he had often walked this path with his father. It had been at the stream that his father had first told him the facts of life. It was here that his father had spoken to him about women and responsibility. It was at the stream that he had first told his father that he wanted to be a lawyer like him. Jack knew his father had wanted to come here for a reason. So he waited, knowing his father would tell him what was on his mind when he was ready.

“I had a call from Tom Carlton last night,” he began. “He said he landed another major backer for the Cartwright for Senate Campaign. All he’s waiting for is the word from you to announce your candidacy.”

“Yes, I heard. He left me a message,” Jack said, remembering the voice mails left at his office and his home. He had yet to call Carlton back.

“He was concerned because he hadn’t heard back from you and wanted to know how to get in touch with you. I told him we were expecting you today and I’d have you call him.”

“I’ll give him a call when we get back to the house.”

His father took another puff on his cigar. “You given any thought to how your marriage to Lily might affect your political plans?”

“I’m still not sure what my political plans are. But other than finding out Lily’s feelings on the subject of me running for office, I don’t see why my marriage has anything to do with it.”

“It shouldn’t,” his father told him. “But Connecticut is a conservative state. And Tom Carlton and his group are right at the top of the conservative train. They pride themselves on their heritage and strong family values. They like their candidates and their candidates’ families to fit the same bill. And as nice as I think Lily is, she might not be what they consider the proper wife for a senator. This unplanned pregnancy and quickie wedding might not sit well with them either.”

Jack scowled. “Then that’s their problem, not mine. Lily wasn’t born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’s overcome enormous odds and made something of herself. So what you, Carlton or anyone else thinks of her suitability doesn’t matter. I’m not embarrassed by her background. I’m proud of her for not allowing it to hold her back. And nothing you or anyone else says will make me feel otherwise.”

“If it did, then you wouldn’t be the man I thought you were,” his father said.

“If you feel that way, then why the lecture?”

“Because I think you need to be prepared for people’s reaction to your marriage to Lily. There are a lot of small-minded people, even in Eastwick, who will think she trapped you into this marriage and that you’re ruining your political future.”

“The only opinions that matter to me are my family’s,” Jack told him.

His father nodded and they continued to walk in silence. Yet his father’s words reminded him of the blackmail note he’d found in his pocket a week ago. He’d dismissed it and would do so again, he admitted. But listening to his father’s warnings now made him wonder who the author had been. He’d learned from Lily that it had been Bunny Baldwin who had given her the ticket to the ball. As the publisher of the Eastwick Social Diary and a maven for gossip, he wouldn’t have put it past Bunny to have discovered that he was the father of Lily’s baby. But the blackmail note had shown up after Bunny was dead, and unless Bunny’s ghost had decided to shake him down for cash, it had to be someone else.

Maybe someone Bunny had told?

Jack frowned. The note had appeared while he was at Abby Talbot’s home. Abby was Bunny’s daughter and the pair had been close. It was conceivable that Bunny had told Abby. Despite the fact that Bunny had always spoken highly of this counselor named Lily Miller, the scandal would have been hard for Bunny to ignore. In fact, it was just the sort of dirt that filled the pages of the Diary.

He recalled how distraught Abby had been following her mother’s death. Too distraught to execute a blackmail plan, he reasoned. Besides, Abby simply didn’t strike him as a blackmailer. Her husband, Luke, was another matter. An image of Luke on the day of the funeral, slipping away and disappearing into another part of the house, coming outdoors to speak on his cell phone, came to mind. While the fellow was pleasant enough, there was something different about him—something that Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on. The man had always struck him as a loner, but it went beyond that. Luke Talbot was … secretive. Maybe Abby had repeated what Bunny had told her to Luke in pillow talk. For that matter, Abby could easily have mentioned it to the Debs Club.

Jack thought about the five women given the nickname by the country club years ago. They were a close bunch and they had all been at the black-and-white ball. If Bunny had told Abby about him and Lily, Abby could have easily mentioned it to her friends at one of their luncheons. He thought about the other four women now—Emma Dearborn, Mary Duvall, Vanessa Thorpe and Felicity Farnsworth. All of them had been at Abby’s house following the funeral. As he thought about the violet-eyed Emma Dearborn, he couldn’t see her as a blackmailer. The woman had her own money. She had a successful art gallery and she was engaged to Reed Kelly. Where was the motive? As for Mary Duvall, the one-time wild child of the Duvall family had undergone a metamorphosis since her grandfather David’s stroke. She’d become devoted to the older man—hardly the actions of a blackmailer.