Her Little Secret, His Hidden Heir(30)

"How many times have I told you to call me Vanessa?" she scolded with a friendly wink.

The woman nodded, but old habits died hard, and Vanessa knew every one   of the Keller staff would rather be chastised by her for not calling her   by her first name than to accidentally slip and call Eleanor by hers.

"I missed breakfast. Do you think I could get a slice of toast and some   juice?" she asked. She knew better than to try to fix something on her   own. She'd done that before, when she and Marc had first been married,   and learned very quickly that the kitchen staff could be more than a   little territorial.

"Of course, ma'am."

Glenna bustled off to fix a tray while Vanessa climbed onto a stool   right there at the center island. She could have gone off to the dining   room to wait, but the room was so large and empty, whereas the kitchen   felt homier and buzzed with energy. She could also do without bumping   into Eleanor, which was more likely elsewhere in the house.

After taking her time with two slices of toast and a scrambled egg   because Glenna insisted she could use the protein, Vanessa strolled back   to the library. Marguerite was still there, and Danny was still  playing  and cooing, enjoying himself just as much as when she'd left.

She laughed herself, just looking at him. There were few things in the   world as delightful as a baby's heartfelt giggle, and she never grew   tired of hearing her own child expressing his happiness over some silly   thing like a shaken rattle or a game of peekaboo.

Joining them on the blanket, she spent the next twenty or thirty minutes   entertaining Danny and chatting with Marguerite, who turned out to be a   college student trying to earn extra money for tuition over her summer   break. Vanessa could certainly relate, since that's exactly what she'd   been doing when she'd met Marc for the first time.

"Well, isn't this a sweet little tableau."

Eleanor's crisp tone and deceptively reproving words cut Marguerite off   midsentence and sent a flush of guilt toward the young maid's hairline.   She immediately jumped up, fidgeting nervously.

"You may go," Eleanor told her without preamble.

Marguerite gave a quick nod, mumbled, "Yes, ma'am," and hurried out of the room.

Vanessa was just as uncomfortable with her ex-mother-in-law's sudden   appearance, but refused to let it show. She certainly wasn't going to   rush to her feet like some loyal subject in front of her reigning queen.                       
       
           



       

Remaining where she was, she continued playing with Danny, fighting the morbid impulse to glance in the older woman's direction.

"You didn't have to scare her off, Eleanor," she said flatly, finally   looking up at her. "She's a nice girl. We were having an interesting   conversation."

If possible, Eleanor's features turned even more pinched and   disapproving. "I've told you before that it's unseemly to make friends   with the help."

Vanessa chuckled at that, a short burst of unexpected sound that caused   the older woman's brows to pucker. "I'm afraid I don't adhere to your   antiquated rules, especially since I used to be the help, remember?"

"Oh, I remember," Eleanor replied coolly.

Of course, she did. Wasn't that her number one complaint about Vanessa   ending up married to her son? That a high and mighty Keller heir might   stoop so low as to tie himself to a common, no-name waitress?

"Do you really think this is going to work out?" Eleanor continued   snidely. "That you can hide my son's child from him for nearly a year,   then simply bat your eyes and waltz back into the lap of luxury,   trapping Marcus all over again?"

Keeping one hand on Danny's belly and rubbing him gently through the   soft cotton of his teddy bear onesie tucked into a tiny pair of denim   shorts, Vanessa finally turned her head to meet her ex-mother-in-law's   stern, steel-gray gaze. "Contrary to your single-minded beliefs, I don't   particularly consider Keller Manor the lap of luxury. You may have   everything money can buy, but this house definitely isn't a home.   There's no warmth here and very little love."

She paused for a moment to lift Danny against her chest before climbing   to her feet. Turning, she faced Eleanor head-on. "And I'm not trying to   trap Marc. I never was. I just wanted to love him and be happy. But  you  couldn't let that happen, could you?"

Shifting Danny higher on her hip, she hugged him close and continued   with so much of what she'd been wanting to say for years. "God forbid   Marc falls in love with a woman from the wrong side of the tracks, with   red blood instead of blue running through her veins. God forbid he be   happy and make his own decisions and get out from under your oppressive,   all-powerful thumb."

The words poured out of her like a rainstorm, but even though a sliver   of fear remained at the very pit of her belly, she also felt   relieved … and stronger than she would have expected.

Why hadn't she found the courage to tell Eleanor off long before now?   She might have saved her marriage. Saved herself countless tears. Saved   them all months and months of misery.

Eleanor, of course, didn't take Vanessa's first act of independence at   all well. Her cheeks turned an unseemly shade of pink while her eyes   narrowed and her jaw locked like a piranha's.

"How dare you?" she seethed, her face turning even more mottled.

But her anger didn't faze Vanessa. Not anymore.

"I should have dared a long time ago. I should have stood up to you and   refused to let you intimidate me just because you come from old money   and are used to looking down your nose at people. And I should have told   Marc how you were treating me from the very beginning instead of  trying  to keep the peace and avoid tarnishing his opinion of you."

She shook her head, sad but determined. "I was young and stupid then,   but I've grown up a lot in the past year. And I have a child of my own   now … one I don't intend to let you push around, or let witness you   pushing me around. I'm sorry, Eleanor, but if you want to be in your   grandson's life, you're going to have to start treating me with a little   respect."

Vanessa could tell from the pinch of her ex-mother-in-law's lips that   she was about as far from that happening as from flapping her arms and   flying to the moon. "Get. Out."

Eleanor spat the words like a fire-breathing dragon, as though they were   two completely different sentences. Fury shook her from head to toe,   and if she'd had any medical issues, Vanessa would have worried she was   on the verge of suffering a heart attack or stroke.

"Get out of my house," she repeated, turning to point one long, diamond-adorned finger toward the door.

Not that Vanessa had to be told twice.

"Gladly," she said, bending at the waist to gather Danny's blanket and toys one-handedly.

With her shoulders back and her head held high, she strode past Eleanor   and up the long stairwell to Marc's suite to pack her things.



Marc pulled his Mercedes in front of the house and cut the engine.   Normally he would drive around to the garage, but he was only going to   be a few minutes. He'd forgotten some files on the desk in his suite,   and was hoping he had time to grab them, get back to the office, deal   with the rest of the issues filling his long to-do list and get home   again in time for dinner.                       
       
           



       

Normally, he would simply skip dinner with the family and remain at the   office as long as it took to get the job done. But for some reason, his   workaholic temperament seemed to have abandoned him. He barely wanted  to  spend the rest of the day at the office, let alone his evening, as   well. Instead, he wanted to be here, at home, with Vanessa and Danny.

His mouth curved in a smile just thinking about them, and he glanced at   his watch, debating how much time he could afford to spend with them   before turning around and heading back into the city.

There was a taxi parked ahead of him in the driveway and he lifted a   hand to the cabbie as he rounded his Mercedes, wondering what it was   doing there. Perhaps his mother had visitors, though it was odd for any   of her acquaintances not to have their own very expensive, chauffeured   vehicles.

Bounding up the front steps, he pushed open the door and came to a   screeching halt at the pile of luggage and baby items in the center of   the foyer floor.