Читать книгу The Firebrand Who Unlocked His Heart - Anne Fraser, Anne Fraser - Страница 10

COLLEEN had flown home later that day on Daniel’s plane. Moving to London for what could be months necessitated more than the few belongings she’d packed. And if Harry was to be discharged on Tuesday she needed to be back in London tomorrow evening at the latest. Daniel had offered to send someone to her flat to pack her things for her, but she’d refused. No one was going to trawl through her cupboards except her. After she’d packed and cleared out her fridge, she had phoned Ciaran to let him know what she’d decided. He’d been disappointingly blasé about the fact he wouldn’t see her for a few weeks.

She was being daft, of course she was. Ciaran loved her. Just because he didn’t create fireworks because he might not see her very often over the next few months was no reason to feel a little … disappointed? Deflated? Unappreciated?

Relieved?

If anything, the last twenty-four hours had deepened the feeling of unease she felt whenever she thought about her impending marriage.

As before, she flew back to London on Daniel’s private plane. Her third flight in less than two days. She could get used to this way of travelling. No endless queueing for her bags to be checked, or to go through security or to have her passport examined. Everything happened as if by magic. As soon as she stepped into the arrivals’ hall, Daniel’s driver was waiting to take her suitcase, his car right outside, so she barely had to walk.

Colleen reached for the car door before the chauffeur had a chance to open it for her. She looked up at him and smiled. ‘I’ll lose the use of my own arms if I don’t use them.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘Oh, no. None of that madam stuff. Please call me Colleen.’

‘Yes, madam.’

Oh dear.

Suddenly the driver grinned and held out his hand. ‘I’m Mike.’

She shook it, feeling relieved. Much more of that madamising malarkey and she would have gone crazy.

They had driven through London before coming to a halt in front of large wrought-iron gates that swung open as if sensing their arrival.

Once again, Colleen got to the door before Mike could do it for her.

‘I don’t suppose I can carry my own bags?’ she said to him.

‘No need. They’ll be taken up to your room and unpacked for you,’ Mike replied, taking her embarrassingly bedraggled-looking bags from the boot.

Colleen looked up at the most enormous mansion she’d ever seen. It was like something out of Country House Rescue, except she had no doubt that there would be no crumbling plasterwork or peeling paint in Daniel Frobisher’s palace. Hooking her handbag over her shoulder, she skipped up the sweep of steps. As if by magic, the huge front door swung open, revealing a man in his early fifties, wearing the same black suit, white shirt and tie as the uniform of the chauffeur.

‘Welcome to Carrington Hall, Miss McCulloch.’

Colleen held her hand out. ‘Mr Haversham, I presume?’

The man couldn’t have looked more shocked had she attacked him with a deadly weapon. Colleen let her hand drop.

‘Mr Haversham is Mr Frobisher’s personal assistant. I’m Burton, Mr Frobisher’s butler.’

Did people really still have butlers? This felt more and more like she was in a period costume drama.

‘Please call me, Colleen. Don’t you have a first name, Mr Burton?’

‘Just Burton, miss. Please follow me,’ the butler said, taking her bags from Mike. ‘Mr Frobisher sends his apologies. I am to tell you that he is unable to welcome you personally, but unfortunately he has pressing business to attend to. He says he’ll see you at dinner.’

Colleen hid her dismay. Daniel had made all that effort to get her here in the first place, but couldn’t spare the time to greet her! If he truly cared about Harry, shouldn’t his son and not a business deal be his first priority? The sympathy she’d been feeling towards him faded. If he thought he could hand Harry over to her and leave it at that, he’d made a mistake. She was here to help him care for his son and Daniel’s involvement was absolutely critical. She had to make that clear and the sooner the better.

‘He had pressing business, did he? Well, I would like you to get Mr Frobisher on the telephone and let him know that his presence is needed here.’

Burton raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Mr Frobisher does not care to be interrupted when he’s working.’ Was she mistaken or did Burton shudder slightly, as if remembering a time when he had made the mistake of interrupting his boss? Well, she wouldn’t be so easily intimidated.

‘If you could let me have his telephone number, then I’ll call him myself.’ Colleen scrambled around in her bag for her phone, eventually finding it caught up in some sweet papers. One day she would have to find the time to give her bag a good clear-out. She waved her mobile at Burton. ‘Number, please?’

This time, the penguin-suited man did shudder. And folded his arms. And looked at her with unmistakable resolve. ‘As I said, Mr Frobisher will see you at dinner. In the meantime, maybe you’d like to see your room?’ He looked at her and his lip curled. ‘And freshen up. Perhaps change?’

The cheek. There was nothing wrong with her freshly washed jeans and T-shirt. She was here to work—not look like something from a catwalk.

‘I’d rather go straight to Harry’s room to make sure everything’s in order,’ Colleen said stiffly. She’d only been here ten minutes and already she was wondering what she’d let herself in for. ‘That’s why I’m here. I understand from what Mr Frobisher said that his son will be coming home the day after tomorrow. I’m sure there is a fair bit to organise before then.’

Burton jumped back, startled, as she swept past him. The marbled hall with its high-vaulted ceilings and imposing staircase took Colleen’s breath away. This was more like the entrance to a private hotel than a house. But despite the grandeur, it wasn’t a place she would call home. It was too dark and gloomy with its wooden panelled walls and deep-green wallpaper.

‘But, miss, Mr Frobisher insisted …’

‘Mmm … well, see, here’s the thing.’ Colleen waved a finger in the air. ‘I’m here for Harry. Everyone—and I mean everyone—is second in importance to that. So, which way to Harry’s room?’

‘If you wait here, miss, I’ll just get Mr Frobisher for you. He’s working from home today,’ Burton replied, regaining his composure.

So Daniel wasn’t even at work? He was here all the time, yet couldn’t be bothered to make the time to greet her. If possible, she felt even more uneasy. None of this matched the little she knew of Daniel. In Dublin and at the hospital, she hadn’t doubted for a second that he cared about his son.

She heard Daniel’s footsteps on the marbled floor before she saw him. Somehow she’d expected him to be suited and booted again, not wearing faded denim jeans and an open-necked pearl-grey shirt. His dark hair was kind of mussy, as if he’d been pulling his hands through it, and he had the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. It made him look more approachable and really quite sexy in an uptight British way.

‘Colleen, welcome. Did you have a good flight?’ he asked, with only the briefest of smiles.

‘Everything about my trip was great, thanks,’ Colleen replied, coolly.

‘I gather you wish to speak to me. What is so important that it can’t wait?’

‘I’d like to see Harry’s room, but Mr Burton appears reluctant to show it to me. He seems to want to pack me off to my room so I can change. I tried to tell him that I don’t need to rest or change or freshen up, or whatever it is that he seems to think I need to do, but he’s not having it. I’m not in the least bit tired, I’m almost as clean as I was when I showered this morning and I want to see Harry’s room. Is that a problem?’

A smile, more genuine this time, crossed Daniel’s face.

‘Of course not. Burton was just following instructions. Guests normally like to settle in to their rooms when they arrive.’

‘But I’m not a guest, sure I’m not.’

Something glinted in Daniel’s eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn it was laughter. He regarded her calmly without saying anything. She already that knew that he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox. But if he thought his silence would make her back down meekly, he had another think coming.

‘Here’s the thing,’ she continued doggedly, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing, ‘I’m here to do the best job I can for Harry, but in order to do that—what I say goes. Do we understand each other?’ Colleen held her breath as she waited for Daniel to reply. Despite the instant connection she’d felt with Harry, she couldn’t work here unless she had free rein to do what she thought was best for him. She needed to make that absolutely clear from the start. Daniel studied her through narrowed eyes.

‘Perfectly. But let me make something clear, too. If, at any time, I feel you are not up to the job, I will find someone else.’

He was pinning her with that look again. Her heart was galloping like one of the horses in the field back home. Jeepers, life in this household wasn’t going to be easy.

‘Have you forgotten that you were the one who hounded me to take the job and not the other way round? But that’s fine by me, just as long as whatever happens, you don’t renege on your donation to the rehab unit.’

‘I never go back on my promises, Colleen.’ The words were quietly spoken, but held a thread of steel. ‘And something tells me you don’t either.’

Colleen just couldn’t make Daniel out. For two pins she’d insist on being taken back to Ireland. If it weren’t for the fact that Daniel was right—she never backed out of a promise. She’d told Harry she’d be here when he came home and she’d keep that promise.

‘Despite the way you went about securing my services, I’ve agreed to care for your son and I would never, ever let my—er—relationship …’ damn, that was the wrong word, but it was too late now to find a better one ‘… with a parent affect the way I treat a patient.’ And that was true. Even if she’d never felt like kicking someone before.

His smile was catlike. ‘At least we understand each other.’

Colleen let her breath out slowly, willing her heart rate to return to normal. ‘Okay, now that that’s out of the way, shall we get on?’

Daniel looked at his watch. ‘It’s okay, Burton, I can manage from here.’ He turned his gaze back to Colleen. She’d forgotten just how green those penetrating eyes of his were—even when he was frowning. ‘I can give you ten minutes. Follow me. Harry’s bedroom is on the second floor.’

Colleen remained silent for the rest of the way up the curving stairs and along the carpeted hallway lined with old-fashioned portraits of stuffy men in uniforms and aristocratic women in evening dresses. Daniel threw open the very last room at the end of the long corridor.

‘This is Harry’s room,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’ve installed a hospital bed as you can see. You’re in the suite next door.’

Colleen glanced round, taking in the bare walls and almost-empty shelves. An electric wheelchair stood in front of the unlit fireplace. She walked over to the bookshelf and tilted her head to the side, reading the titles along the spines: Great Expectations