“In that case, you have to carry it. Ten dollars.”
“Done,” Kady said, fishing thirty dollars out of her wallet, ten for the box and twenty for the rose-shaped mold.
As the woman stuffed the money in her pocket, Kady pulled the box off the truck, then shook it. “There really is something in here.”
“All of them are full,” the woman said in exasperation. “Whoever owned this stuff never threw away a piece of paper in his life. And the mice have been into most of them, as well as mildew and nasty crawly things. Go on, take the box. If there’s something valuable inside there, it’s yours. My guess is that it’s still full of flour.”
“In that case I shall make antique bread,” Kady said, making the woman smile as she grabbed one side of the box and helped Kady pick it up.
“Can you carry that? I can get my husband to—”
“No thanks,” Kady said, her forearms under the bottom of the box, which was bigger than she’d first thought; she could barely see over the top of it. “Maybe you wouldn’t mind hooking that mold onto my handbag.”
As the w
oman did so, she looked at Kady speculatively. “You know, I think I’ll have a treasure sale on Saturday. I’ll give these cases a good vacuum and sell them as ‘Contents Unknown.’ At ten bucks each, I might make a profit yet.”
“If you do, your husband will take all the credit,” Kady said, smiling from around the box.
“And he’ll never pass another auction without buying everything in sight. I’m going to have to consider this one,” she said, laughing as she led Kady around the shop into an alley. “Right through there is the street. Are you sure that isn’t too heavy? It’s nearly as big as you are. Maybe you should bring your car around.”
“No, it’s fine,” Kady said honestly, for her arms were strong from years of lifting copper pots full of stock and kneading huge mounds of bread dough.
But as strong as she was, by the time she had walked the three blocks back to her car and put the tin box into the trunk, her arms were aching. Looking at the rusty old thing, she wondered what in the world had made her buy it. Gregory was moving some furniture from his house in Los Angeles to Alexandria, but he’d told her that he thought their town house needed Federal furniture, not the big, white sun-country sofas and chairs he owned, so he planned to sell most of what he had.
Closing the car trunk, she sighed. “Federal furniture,” she said to no one. “Where’s Dolley Madison when you need her?” As she got behind the wheel, she thought that for tomorrow night’s dinner, she might do some experiments with rabbit in red wine, something eighteenth century.
Chapter 2
IT WAS ELEVEN P.M., AND KADY WAS EXCEPTIONALLY TIRED AS she entered her boring little furnished apartment. She’d chosen the place because it was close to Onions and because she wouldn’t have to buy furniture.
For the life of her she couldn’t figure out what had been wrong with her tonight. In theory everything had gone very well. Gregory had been at his most charming, and she appreciated the effort he’d made to entertain her friends. Even Jane had been impressed, telling Kady that her own husband felt no obligation to talk to her friends and, instead, often spent his days with his face behind a newspaper. As for Debbie she was so starry-eyed from eating Kady’s cooking and having a man who looked like Gregory pay attention to her that she could hardly speak.
“You’re tired,” Gregory had said abruptly after Kady had suppressed her fifth yawn at the dinner table. “You’ve been on your feet all day. You should go home and rest.”
“I don’t think freedom agrees with me,” Kady said, smiling sleepily. “I should have spent today in the kitchen.”
Gregory turned dark eyes to the other two women. “Can either of you do anything with her? I have never seen anyone work as much as she does. She never takes time off, never does anything except work.” As he spoke, he took Kady’s hand and caressed it, then gave her a look guaranteed to melt her knickers.
But when Kady gave another yawn, he laughed. “Come on, baby, you’re going to ruin my reputation as a lady-killer. What are Debbie and Jane going to think of me?”
Kady laughed, as Gregory always seemed able to make her do. Turning to her women friends, she smiled. “He really is the best man in the world. Very exciting and all that; it’s just me. I don’t know what’s wrong with me tonight. I seem to be drained of all energy.”
“Probably from thinking about having to choose furniture,” Gregory said as he stood, then pulled Kady’s nearly limp body up out of the chair. He was quite a bit taller than she was, and his face was as sharply chiseled as hers was soft planes.
Gregory turned to the other women, smiling. “I’ll take her home then return for whatever Kady’s made for dessert.”
“Raspberries with kirsch and—”
She broke off when all three of them laughed, making her blush. “Okay, so I’m just tired, not dead.”
Holding on to Gregory’s strong arm, Kady left the town house, and he walked her home, saying nothing, just keeping his arm protectively around her. At her door, he put his arms around her, then kissed her good night, but he didn’t ask to be allowed to spend the night. “I can see that you’re exhausted, so I’ll leave you.” Drawing back, he looked down at her. “Still want to marry me?”
“Yes,” she said, smiling, leaning her head against his hard chest. “Very much.” She looked up at him. “Gregory, I really am hopeless at buying furniture. I don’t have a clue about curtains and sheets and—”
She broke off as he kissed her. “We’ll hire someone. Don’t spend another moment thinking about it. I have a deal going in LA, and as soon as it’s closed, we’ll be able to afford anything.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “All the copper pots you want.”
With her arms about his waist, she hugged him tightly. “I don’t know what I’ve ever done to deserve a man like you. I feel so guilty that you’re giving up your job in Los Angeles to live here with me.” She looked up at him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t want me to move there? I could open a restaurant there and—”