Harrison found the Charleston icon holding court near the bar. In black pants and a cream honeycomb dinner jacket with a gold bow tie and pocket square, Bennett outshone many of the female guests in the fashion department.
“Do you have a second?” Harrison asked, glancing around to make sure his quarry hadn’t escaped.
One of Bennett’s well-groomed eyebrows went up. “Certainly.”
The two men moved off a couple of feet and Harrison indicated the woman who’d interested him. “Do you know who that is?”
Amusement dancing in his eyes, his uncle gazed in the direction Harrison indicated. “Maribelle Gates? She recently became engaged to Beau Shelton. Good family. Managed to hold on to their wealth despite some shockingly bad advice from Roland Barnes.”
Harrison silently cursed at the word engaged. Why was she so interested in Tristan if she was unavailable? Maybe she was cheating on her fiancé. Wary of letting his uncle think he’d shown an interest in someone who was engaged, he asked, “And the brunette?”
“Maribelle Gates is the brunette.” Bennett saw where his nephew was going and shook his head. “Oh, you were interested in the blonde. That’s London McCaffrey.”
“London.” He experimented with the taste of her name and liked it. “Why does her name ring a bell?”
“She was engaged to Linc Thurston for two years.”
“I just met his sister.” Harrison returned to studying London.
Meanwhile his uncle kept talking. “He recently broke off the engagement. No one knows why, but it’s rumored he’s been sleeping with...” Bennett’s lips curved into a wicked grin. “His housekeeper.”
An image of the heavyset fifty-year-old woman who maintained his parents’ house popped into Harrison’s mind and he grimaced. He pondered the willowy blonde and wondered what madness had gripped Linc to let her go.
“He doesn’t seem the type to go after his housekeeper.”
“You never know about some people.”
“So why is everyone convinced that he’s sleeping with her?”
“Convinced is a strong word,” his uncle said. “Let’s just say that there’s speculation along those lines. Linc hasn’t been out with anyone since he and London broke up. There’s been not a whisper of another romance on anyone’s radar. And, from what I hear, she’s a young widow with a toddler.”
Harrison shoved aside the gossip and refocused on the object of his interest. The more Bennett speculated about the reason Linc Thurston had for ending the engagement, the less he liked London’s interest in his brother. She deserved better. Tristan had always treated women poorly, as his recent behavior during his divorce from his wife of eight years demonstrated. Not only had Tristan cheated on her the entire time they were married, he’d hired a merciless divorce attorney, and Zoe had ended up with almost nothing.
“Now, if you’re looking for someone to date, I’d like to suggest...”
Harrison tuned out the rest of his uncle’s remarks as he continued to puzzle over London McCaffrey. “Is she seeing anyone at the moment?” Harrison asked, breaking into whatever it was his uncle was going on about.
“Ivy? I don’t believe so.”
“No,” Harrison said, realizing he hadn’t been paying attention to whatever pearls of wisdom his uncle had been shelling out. “London McCaffrey.”
“Stay away from that one,” Bennett warned. “That mother of hers is the worst. She’s a former New York socialite who thinks a lot of money—and I do mean a lot—can buy her way into Charleston inner circles. Honestly, the woman is a menace.”
“I’m not interested in dating the mother.”
“London is just as mu
ch a social climber,” Bennett said as if Harrison was an utter idiot not to make the connection. “Why else do you think she pursued Linc?”
“Obviously you don’t think she was in love with him,” Harrison retorted dryly.
He wasn’t a stranger to the elitist outlook held by the old guard of Charleston society. His own mother had disappointed her family by marrying a man from North Carolina with nothing but big dreams and ambition. Harrison hadn’t understood the complexities of his mother’s relationship with her family and, frankly, he’d never really cared. Ever since he could remember, all Harrison had ever wanted to do was to tinker with cars and drive fast.
His father and uncle had started out as mechanics before investing in their first auto parts store. Within five years the two men had parlayed their experience and drive into a nationwide chain. While Harrison’s dad, Robert “Bertie” Crosby, was happy to man the helm and expand the business, his brother, Jack, pursued his dream of running race cars.
By the time Harrison was old enough to drive, his uncle had built Crosby Motorsports into a winning team. And like the brothers before them, Tristan had gone into the family business, preferring to keep his hands clean, while Harrison loved every bit of oil and dirt that marked his skin.
“She pursued him,” Bennett pronounced, “because her children would be Thurstons.”