The Ugly Duckling Read Free Page A

arrangements for the party. “You mustn’t go into the caves. It’s not safe. That’s why Daddy called you back.”
    Jill nodded. “Because of the monster.”
    “No.” Jill was a sensitive and imaginative child, and this particular fantasy had to be nipped at the start. Nell dropped to her knees on the Aubusson rug and gently grasped Jill’s shoulders. “There was no monster. Sometimes shadows look like monsters, particularly when you’re in a spooky place. Remember when you wake in the middle of the night and think there are bogeymen under the bed? Then, when we look, there’s nothing there?”
    “There
was
a monster.” Jill’s lips set stubbornly. “He scared me.”
    For an instant Nell was tempted to let her continue to think the monsters existed if the idea would keep her out of the cave. But she had never lied to her daughter before and she would not start now. She would just have to never let Jill out of her sight while they were on this dratted island.
    “Shadows,” Nell repeated firmly, and for reinforcement added, “Isn’t that what Daddy said when you told him about the monster?”
    “Daddy didn’t listen. He told me to hush. He was busy talking to Mrs. Brenden.” Jill’s eyes filled with tears. “And you don’t believe me either.”
    “I do believe you, but sometimes there’s—” She couldn’t go on with Jill looking at her with those reproachful brown eyes. She gently stroked back the straight, silky brown bangs from Jill’s forehead. His China doll, Richard called her, because of her straight, short bob. But there was nothing fragile about Jill. She was sturdy and as apple-pie American as Nell could make her. “Suppose we go down to the cave tomorrow morning and you can show me this monster and we’ll chase him away.”
    “You won’t be afraid?” Jill whispered.
    “There’s nothing to fear here, baby. It’s a good place for children. The sea and the beach and this lovely house. You’ll have a wonderful time this weekend.”
    “You won’t have a good time.”
    “What?”
    Jill’s gaze held hers with an oddly mature shrewdness. “You never have a good time. Not like Daddy.”
    Never underestimate the wisdom of children, Nell thought wearily. “I’m a little shy. Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m not having a good time.” She gave her daughter a hug. “And we always have a good time together, don’t we?”
    “Sure.” Jill’s arms slid around her neck. She cuddledcloser. “May I come down to the party tonight? Then you’ll have somebody to talk to.”
    Jill smelled of sea and sand and Nell’s lavender soap she had begged to use in her bath last night. Nell’s arms tightened around her for a moment before she reluctantly released her. “It’s a grown-up party. You wouldn’t like it.”
    And neither would she. She had grown accustomed to her duties as Richard’s wife and could usually fade into the background, but that would be difficult to do this weekend. A plain wren would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb among the socialites and celebrities Martin Brenden had invited to the island to meet Kavinski and dazzle him into signing with Continental Trust.
    “Then stay with me,” Jill coaxed.
    “I can’t.” She wrinkled her nose. “Daddy’s boss wouldn’t like it. This is a very important night for Daddy, and we both have to help him.” She saw her daughter’s face begin to cloud again, and said quickly, “But I’ll bring you up a tray of goodies before you go to sleep. We’ll have a picnic.”
    The anxiety immediately vanished. “And wine?” Jill asked eagerly. “Jean Marc’s mother lets him have a glass of wine every evening for supper. She says it’s good for him.”
    Jean Marc was the son of the housekeeper who reigned supreme in their apartment in Paris, and Nell was hearing a good deal about the rascal. “Orange juice.” To stave off an argument, she added quickly, “But if you eat all your supper, I’ll see if I can