In Search of the Past (Stacey and Shane Mcleod, #2) Read Free Page B

been 
    leaning against the dining table with his arms crossed over his chest watching Miss Scott. He wondered, how in the devil did she wind up here of all places. Then he remembered, in her dream she had lived in Yorkshire.  He thought; what a beautiful, stubborn young woman she is to go looking for some dream man who died seven hundred years ago.  He became a little irritated to think she cared so much for this imaginary man.
    While Doctor McLeod stood looking smugly on, Aunt Letty said, “Oh, no dear, my name isn’t Maxwell, it’s Foley and I insist you join us. Who knows when this fog will lift and you being a friend of Shane’s and all...”
    He was leaning against the dining table giving, what Stacey knew to be a sardonic smile. What Stacey would really like to do wasn’t permissible and Mrs. Foley had been so nice.  She would act like a lady; even if it killed her.
    As Mrs. Foley and Doctor McLeod’s mother left the room, Stacey, through gritted teeth, hissed at Doctor McLeod, “You could’ve told me her name wasn’t Maxwell.” As she gave him a swat on his upper arm with the back of her hand.
    Shane, much surprised by her swat; put his hand over his bicep and said, “I beg your pardon, but I fail to see how your mistake was my fault, Miss Scott.”  The look Stacey gave him could have froze a polar bear. Aunt Letty offered tea, so the four of them were sitting in the living room having a cup of tea when Mrs. Foley asked, “You’re an American, aren’t you dear?”
    “Yes ma’am, I am,” Stacey said with a smile. They asked a lot of questions about America.  “Actually, I’m from Texas,” Stacey said. They wanted to know where?  She told them,  “Rawhide. It’s a little town between Waco and Austin.”
    Mr. smug britches just sat and didn’t enter into the conversation at all.  Oh, how she would love to remove that smug look off his face.  She still resented what he had said to her in his office.  A knock on the door brought her back from wherever she was.
    It was the man from the towing service. “Sorry miss,” he said. “it can’t be fixed, so we’ll be towing it to the garage. I’m sure they’ll be sending you out a replacement.”
    “May I ride into town with you so I can get a hotel?” Stacey asked.
    “Sorry, miss. ‘Tis against the rules,” he said, “but I brought your cases and sun shades to the house.”  He sat them just inside the door.
    “Well, thank you anyway,” Stacey said, then turned to Mrs. Foley and asked, “May I use your phone again to call a taxi?”
    “Nonsense, my dear. You can stay right here with us.” 
    “Oh, no, thank you,” Stacey said. “I couldn’t impose that way.”
    “Nonsense,” Aunt Letty said. “tell her, Shane.”
    “I guess that’s settled,” Shane said. “I’ll take your cases upstairs.”
    Stacey stood there in awe.  She couldn’t remember ever before being so cleverly
    maneuvered.  An older gentleman came in and Aunt Letty introduced him to Stacey as her husband, Sir John Foley.  They had to tell him all about the fog and how the car had
    malfunctioned and about her being an American, from Texas.
    When Shane came back downstairs, he said, “Your room is the first door to the right of the stairs.” 
    Stacey thanked him, then like an after thought, asked, “Is your wife with you?”
    “Wife? What wife?” his mother asked, frantically.
    Shane grimaced at Stacey and said, “I’m not married, where did you get that idea?”
    “At the fundraiser. I thought the woman with you was your wife.”
    “If you had stayed around a bit longer, Miss Scott, I would have introduced you to her.  She was on the ‘fund raiser’ committee.”
    “That’s a relief,” Shane’s mother said. “I should hope he would tell me before he marries, if he ever does.  He tells me he’s a confirmed bachelor:”
    A little later on Mrs. McLeod said, “If you will excuse me, I’ll go up and dress for dinner.” 
    Stacey