Relative Strangers by Kathy Lynn Emerson Read Free Book Online Page B

“Good. I’ll tell Tandy.”
    Corrie hurried away from him to join Rachel at the bay window, but of course Lucas followed her.
    It wasn’t difficult to see what held Rachel’s attention. Across one end of the floodlit yard a brightly painted Santa Claus in his sleigh, pulled by a full contingent of reindeer, moved with mechanical smoothness on a track.
    “My grandfather made that,” Lucas said as he came up behind them.
    A somewhat stilted conversation about Christmas decorations followed, continuing until Lucas had seated them at a cozy table in a window alcove. Finally, he excused himself to tend to hotel business. Corrie watched him leave the dining room and told herself that her sigh was one of relief.
    Rachel gave a snort of disgust. “You’re missing a golden opportunity here, kiddo. Handsome. Obviously well-off if he owns this place.” She gestured toward the Santa and sleigh. “And the whole family appears to be disgustingly talented. What did he say? His grandfather built that?”
    “Mmmm.” That must have been Adrienne’s grandson, Corrie mused as she picked up the menu. She stared unseeing at the selections, suddenly reminded that she’d dreamed about Adrienne Sinclair the previous night, an Adrienne who’d been to a ball and was in the process of taking off that same dress she had on in her portrait.
    In Corrie’s dream, Adrienne had slipped a lacy nightgown over her head, then climbed into a four-poster to snuggle next to a dark-haired, hazel-eyed man. The bed had been exactly like the one in Corrie’s room. The man had been a dead ringer for Lucas Sinclair.
    Think about something else, she warned herself.
    “That light golden brown stuff is called bengaline,” she said. “It’s a heavy-ribbed silk, which gives it a corded look. And the panels with the cream ground are of lampas, another sort of silk.”
    Rachel gave her an odd look. “What on earth are you talking about, Corrie?”
    “Adrienne Sinclair’s gown. The one in the portrait”
    “Oh.” Rachel still looked confused.
    No wonder, Corrie thought. Rachel hadn’t been there when Lucas “introduced” Corrie to his ancestor.
    She tried to shake off the feeling that something very weird was happening to her, but she wasn’t entirely successful. She knew she hadn’t gotten her knowledge of turn-of-the-century fabrics out of any book. It was as if she’d been there, with Adrienne. As if she suddenly understood what a woman who’d been dead for a hundred years had thought and felt.
    Impossible.
    But Corrie’s sense of disorientation continued as she and Rachel ordered their meal and were served. Then, when they were halfway through the main course, Corrie looked up and saw her again—the woman dressed as Adrienne Sinclair. She was seated at the next table with a man who looked enough like Lucas to be his older brother.
    Corrie blinked.
    This couldn’t be right. Both people were dressed in the style of the last century, but this time Adrienne wore less formal attire. The table was different from those in the rest of the dining room too. Larger. Covered with a lace tablecloth instead of linen. And bright sunlight illuminated the couple. Corrie blinked again, harder, but they were still there. And everyone else around them seemed blurry.
    Adrienne smiled at her husband.
    Then they were all alone in the grand dining room.
    It normally seated two hundred and twenty-five. Corrie felt a hint of Adrienne’s pride as she surveyed her surroundings. Each heavy table was flanked by ten high-backed armchairs. The best tables had a view through the picture window at one end of the hundred-and-fifty-foot-long room.
    “Tell me your new scheme,” the man said.
    No. Not just any man, Corrie thought. Lucas Sinclair. An older Lucas, beginning to go gray.
    “I think we should have an artesian well put in,” Adrienne answered. “The water tank can be concealed in the woods above the hotel. Out of sight. The same way he hide the laundry room in