"It was just a joke. Something he said in passing," Daisy said with a mixture of desperation and guilt.
"What, Daisy? What did he say?"
"He said something about creating a dynasty by uniting the Whittiers and the Prescotts," Daisy mumbled quickly as she turned to toss the nail buffer down on the vanity.
"He said what?" Elinor bolted up in the bed.
"It was just a joke!"
"I would bet that he was dead serious," she said grimly, throwing back the coverlet and swinging her legs off the bed. "That would be a terrific revenge for a poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks who always felt looked down on by people like Daniel. The perfect revenge—living in Daniel's house, married to his granddaughter."
"Well, maybe so," Daisy agreed suddenly, a crafty look crossing her face. "And if it's true that he used you for his own revenge, why would you want to lie here and hide like a whipped dog? Why don't you come out swinging? Show him that he can't get a Prescott down."
She made a face at her friend. Daisy's ploy was as transparent as plastic wrap. "You just want to get me to work the booth with you today so you don't have to wear that embarrassing costume by yourself."
Daisy laughed, looking down at her milkmaid's dress. "Not true. I happen to think we both look terrific in this outfit. And I also think that the best way to mend a broken heart is to get right back up on that horse again."
Elinor chuckled, unable to stay depressed in the face of Daisy's determined onslaught. "You're mixing your metaphors."
"I don't care." Daisy dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Are you coming with me or not?"
"I'm coming," Elinor surrendered climbing out of the bed. "But you'll have to wait while I pour myself into the dress. The pint of fudge ripple I downed last night isn't going to make it fit any better."
"I'm in no hurry," Daisy said.
Elinor went into the bathroom, her thoughts swirling. Despite Daisy's spirited defense, she couldn't convince herself of Cole's innocence. Perhaps he hadn't come to Bayville with the intention of wooing her into his bed, but he hadn't allowed his feelings for her to sway him from his path. And he must have known how his actions would appear to her once the truth was out.
But Daisy was right about one thing. She wasn't going to let Cole and his deceit make her a prisoner in her own home. She'd never dismissed her responsibilities lightly and she wasn't going to start now.
Ten
"Three bowls of ice cream?" Elinor wiped away a sticky spill on the counter before dipping into the melting ice cream.
On the other side of the counter, three small pairs of greedy eyes watched as she served out the treat.
"Tell the lady thank you," the frazzled young mother commanded as she handed over several bills. The children mumbled a chorus of polite responses before diving into their goodies.
Elinor wiped the counter down for the fiftieth time in an hour while Daisy served an elderly couple.
"Good afternoon, El."
She felt herself stiffen at the soft brush of his voice. Where had he come from? She'd been wound tighter than a cheap music box all afternoon, wondering if he would be at the festival.
Unwilling to acknowledge his presence, she scrubbed at a nonexistent sticky spot.
"Are you planning to ignore me forever?"
Out of the corner of her eye, Elinor saw him lean against the latticed side of the booth, the sun glinting off his hair. "Would you please leave me alone?" she requested in a low voice.
"I'm sorry, El. I can't do that until you've at least heard me out."
"There isn't anything you could say that could possibly change how I feel." Disappointment propelled the words out with more passion than she'd intended.
An elderly couple, waiting for Daisy to serve them, looked at Elinor in disapproval. She ducked her head, fiercely blinking back the tears.
"I'm not going to give up, El."
She wouldn't let herself glance up at him, but then she didn't need to. His image stayed burned on her brain the way the sun lingered on her eyelids when she'd looked at it too long. Cole was like that, too hot, too bright to resist. But she knew she had to for her own sanity.
Very conscious of Daisy's avid interest, she cleared her hroat. "Leave me alone, Cole."
Turning away blindly, she served a cluster of customers. iVhen the rush was past, Elinor allowed herself a glance n his direction.
"He's gone," Daisy said in disgust.
"Good. I just hope he stays away." She tossed out an empty ice cream carton and silently battled a building headache. He probably would stay away. Men like Cole, she'd discovered, didn't hang around long in the face of rejection.
Two hours later, Elinor plopped another container of ce cream on the counter and arched her aching back. She felt like a rag doll thrown down in a child's toy chest. After scooping ice cream almost nonstop, even the perky juffed sleeves of her milkmaid costume were dragging. 5he had to keep tugging them up to avoid total exposure.
With a sigh of relief, she greeted the volunteers who came a few minutes later to free Daisy and her from their duties. Never again would she happily look a peach in the face. All she wanted to do was go home, dive back in bed and never come out again. Sniveling cowardice had its positive side. If she'd stayed in bed this morning, she wouldn't have had to see Cole.
His husky whisper had curled itself around her heart ind stuck there like a clinging vine. How long would it take her to get over Cole?
She jerked off her apron and looked over to where Daisy was holding a conference with several Guild members. "Ready to go, Daisy?"
Her friend turned. "Why don't you go on to the car, hon. We have to arrange to get together and count the proceeds."
"Okay." She was too tired to object. Tucking her purse under one arm, Elinor left the booth and wandered listlessly along the crowded avenue.
The festival was in full swing, with performances by local dance schools being featured on several makeshift stages. Here and there in the crush of people, miniature ballerinas in cheap, sparkly outfits were being shepherded along by their parents.
In her daring milkmaid get-up, Elinor knew she looked like a refugee from an oldster's tap class. But even that absurdity didn't make her laugh. She politely pushed her way through the crowds, wondering how long it would take Daisy to get to the parking lot.