When Adele led the way across the hall to what was obviously a formal dining room, Mitch leaned in and whispered, “Not going to out yourself to our guide?”
Eve shook her head. “How weird would it look? I mean, what old-line Southerner doesn’t know everything about their family heritage, right down to the last twig on the family tree? Nana told me some stuff about my mom and dad’s generation when she was alive. And yes, I got the tour of Uncle Roy’s family photos, but as far as the family that lived here, I know next to nothing.”
“So you’re a tourist in your own backyard, huh?”
“Literally.”
Adele stopped next to the fireplace, where a massive mantelpiece was held up by a pair of Art Nouveau nymphs. “The house has had a number of renovations,” she explained, “the most extensive of which took place in 1910 after Artimas Best made a killing on the stock market.” She ran an affectionate hand over the lines of a nymph’s flowing tunic. “This mantel, which even I have to admit looks completely out of place in a structure that was essentially a farmhouse, was imported from England. And over it you’ll see the wedding portrait of Artimas and Evalyne Best. Evalyne was one of the Eden sisters, who were the belles of their generation. She married Artimas in 1903.”
Dutifully, Mitch looked up at the black-and-white photo, which was a little blurred with age.
And he blinked. Looked from Evalyne to her…what? Great-great-granddaughter? And back again. There was the sensual mouth and the wide-set eyes. Evalyne’s hair was pulled up and poufed out in Gibson girl style, but it was dark like Eve’s, and while she was nearly lost to sight in a cascade of ruffles, there was no mistaking the corseted hourglass figure.
He couldn’t tell if Eve was having the same sense of déjà vu. She stood on the Turkey-red carpet, gazing silently at her ancestors as if they were a puzzle she’d figure out if they just gave her long enough.
Mitch glanced at Adele, who had obviously made the same discovery he had.
“Miss, if you don’t mind me saying so, I now know why you seem so familiar. I’ve been looking at your face for about nine months, that’s why.”
Eve turned to her. “My face?”
The older woman gestured at the portrait. “You’re a dead ringer for Evalyne Best. Are you a member of the family, by any chance?”
Mitch waited for Eve to fib and end the odd moment with a suggestion that they move on with the tour.
“I am,” she said instead. “My name is Eve Best.”
Adele put a hand on her heart. “Mercy sakes. You don’t say.”
“And from what I can figure out, that lady up there is my great-great-great-grandmother.”
“Great…Let’s see now.” Adele did some figuring in her head. “Artimas and Evalyne had a boy and two girls. The girls married men from Savannah-brothers, they were-and moved away, but the boy stayed on to run the family business, which was a savings and loan outfit until the crash of twenty-nine. He had two boys, Cecil and Merlon.”
“My grandpa was called Cecil.”
“Well, there you go. Cecil had two boys, as well. Your dad must have been Gibson, because your Uncle Roy is on the board of the Ashmere Trust and I know both his girls.” Eve nodded. “I was so sorry about your parents, dear. Such a tragedy.”
“It happened a long time ago. But thank you.”
“When you’re as old as me, ‘a long time ago’ is relative,” Adele said with some asperity. Then her voice softened. “So you’ve come back to Atlanta and have a television show, do you? I’m glad to hear it. Your aunt and uncle will be glad you’re home, too.”
“They are. Do you know them well?”
“Roy and my husband did some business together. A start-up, I think you call it. I never pay much attention to that kind of thing. It’s much more interesting to learn about lace-making patterns and how to preserve quilts, in my opinion.”
Eve laughed. “My aunt might agree with you. She tried to teach me to sew when I was a kid, but I was never very good at it.”
“Your mother wasn’t, either, poor thing. But lands, she was a beautiful woman. Talk about the belle of her generation. The family had fallen on hard times by the time she married into it. Your grandpa had to give up this property and they moved to a place in town when your dad and uncle were boys. In fact, I babysat them when I was a teenager. Now, that was a long time ago.”
Mitch had to smile at her truthful but self-deprecating humor. Then she took Eve’s elbow and led her to the main staircase in the hall.
“I really shouldn’t do this, but since you’re a member of the family, I’d say you have the right. There are some pictures and things upstairs that you might be interested in.”
As they followed her up the staircase to the second floor, Mitch asked, “There are family pictures still here? Didn’t they go when the family moved away?”
“The originals did.” Adele waved a hand at the open rooms they passed. “These are the children’s bedrooms. The photos are in the master bedroom, here at the end. When the trust took this place over, Roy Best gave permission to make copies of some of the portraits. The walls were bare, you see.”
She led them into a huge room with ten-foot ceilings and narrow windows that had to be six feet high. A canopied bed occupied one end, and a fireplace the facing wall. On the wall to the left of the door, more portraits hung in a cluster. Some of them, Mitch was sure, had to have been taken right after the invention of the camera.
“Here’s Evalyne and the children,” Adele said, pointing. “That’s Cecil and his bride in the forties, just before he went off to England to fight in the war. And Eve, here’s your mother and dad and your Uncle Roy. This was taken in the early seventies, I think.”
“Belle of her generation is right,” Mitch murmured to Eve. “I see where you get your looks.”
“Not really.” Eve studied the picture. “I might have her chin, but not much else. I’m surprised how much I look like Evalyne, though. My niece Emily does, too. She’s fourteen.”
“Roy’s daughter?” Adele asked. “She does, now you mention it. It’s the mouth and the eyes. Very distinctive. Evalyne was said to be a woman of, shall we say, a very firm character, too.”
“That definitely describes my niece,” Eve said with a smile. “Much to her mom’s dismay.”
“You, too,” Mitch put in. “Not every woman could step onto a set and have a couple of hundred people in the palm of her hand within a few minutes.”
Eve shrugged modestly, then turned to Adele. “I don’t suppose there’s a copy of this picture, is there? I would love to have one. I don’t have many photos of my parents, and I’ve never even seen this one.”
Adele’s forehead creased as she thought. “I’m not sure. Let me check in the office, all right? Feel free to ramble around. I’ll come and find you.”
Mitch waited until he heard Adele’s footsteps on the stairs before he spoke. “I hope she finds a copy for you. If she doesn’t, maybe you can ask your relatives for one.”
“Nana didn’t have it in her belongings when she died.” Eve’s voice sounded puzzled. “I hardly have any pictures of my family. It’s strange, don’t you think?”
He considered this. “Maybe they were all sent to your uncle when your folks passed away.”
“Not even when I was a kid,” she said, as if he hadn’t spoken. “You’d have expected my parents to talk about the family like Adele does. All proud, with tons of detail that would bore to tears anyone who wasn’t related. But they never did. And the only pictures I remember seeing were Nana’s wedding photo and the ones I got of myself at school.”
“Some people just aren’t pack rats.” What was she getting at? And what was with that odd, tense look around her mouth, as though she’d turned over a rock and found something ugly under there? “I wouldn’t upset yourself over it.”