“Oh.” She slipped it into her own pocket, sorry that she couldn’t welcome one of her brother’s old friends as a guest. But the rent would go a long way toward new ballet shoes and drawing lessons. “Thank you. Welcome to Templeton House, Michael.”

She went to the door and down the steps. He walked to the side window and watched her cross the rolling lawn toward Templeton House.

“And there I was,” Laura muttered, “standing in the bathtub.” She sighed, grateful for a lull in the customer flow in Pretenses so that she could vent to her friends. “Wearing rags. Holding a scrub brush. Stop laughing.”

“In a minute,” Kate promised, holding a hand to her aching stomach. “I’m perfecting the image in my mind first. The elegant Laura Templeton caught fighting pesky bathtub ring.”

“Ring, hell. It’s more like bathtub plague. And maybe I’ll think it’s funny in a year. Or two. But right now it’s mortifying. He just stood there grinning at me.”

“Mmm.” Margo touched her tongue to her top lip. “And if memory serves, Michael Fury had one hell of a grin. Is he as wickedly, dangerously handsome as ever?”

“I didn’t notice.” Laura sniffed and gave her attention to rubbing a fingerprint off the glass display case.

“Liar.” Margo leaned closer. “Come on, Laura. Tell.”

“I suppose he looked a bit like a twentieth-century version of Heathcliff. Dark, brooding, potentially violent, and rough around the edges.” Her shoulders shrugged again. “If that sort of thing appeals to you.”

“It wouldn’t make me look the other way,” Margo decided. “Josh said he was a mercenary for a while.”

“A mercenary?” She’d forgotten that and remembering now, nodded. “Figures.”

“And I ran into him once in France when he was racing. Cars.” Margo tilted her head as she brought the memory back. “We had an interesting evening together.”

Laura lifted a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Interesting,” Margo repeated and left it at that. “Then it was stunt work in Hollywood. And now it’s horses. I wonder if he’ll stick around this time. I know Josh hopes he does.”

“At least the situation has pushed me into getting the stables in shape.” Wanting busy work, Laura moved to the shelves and began to tidy glassware. “I’ve neglected them too long. In fact, I may think about getting a horse myself once I can manage it. The girls might like that.”

“So what kind of horses does he raise? Breed. Own. Whatever,” Kate wondered.