Читать книгу Forbidden Night With The Duke - Annie Claydon, Annie Claydon - Страница 12

Chapter Three

JAYE SAT AT the back of the group of chairs in the room that had been set aside for the conference activities. Everyone had done well, and each of the five-minute talks was obviously carefully crafted.

Megan stood up, clutching her laptop, and walked to the front of the group, plugging in the cable that led to the screen behind her. A number of people had already displayed photographs to accompany their talks, and Jaye wondered which ones she’d chosen.

‘I’ve decided to make my presentation in the form of an interview. I’d like to thank Dr and Mrs Perera for all the help they’ve given me, and for agreeing to talk about the early days of the Western Province Free Clinic...’

Jaye could hardly suppress a grin. There was no better way to tell the story of the clinic than to use his father and mother’s own words.

‘I’m not sure that’s quite what was intended.’ A voice sounded from the centre of the group.

Jaye was pretty sure that was exactly what was intended. The tasks that John had set here weren’t quite as straightforward as they looked, and this one was clearly about methods, just as much as results.

Megan looked around the audience, reddening a little, and Jaye suppressed the urge to come to her defence.

‘Our remit was to find out as much as we could. Which I’ve done.’

‘You’re missing the point...’ Rob was the young doctor whose voice was always loudest in the group discussions, which was a shame, because his vision seemed always the most limited.

‘Which point?’ Megan softened her question with a smile, and Jaye wondered privately what Rob had done to deserve that particular burst of sunshine.

‘You have to do the research and come up with your own answers. You can’t just ask someone else, that’s not in the rules...’ Rob gave a sigh of exasperation, as if he were talking to a recalcitrant child.

Enough. If Rob wanted to throw his weight around, he could do it with him, not Megan. Jaye moved to intervene but Megan was already replying.

‘Isn’t asking someone who was there the best kind of research there is? I’m not aware of any rule against it.’

‘The only rules were the ones that everyone chose to superimpose on themselves.’ John was grinning broadly as he cut in. ‘Let’s see your presentation, Megan.’

Jaye breathed a silent thank you and settled back in his chair. It had been entirely inappropriate to want to defend Megan, but the impulse still lingered, like an uninvited guest at a party.

Megan was speaking again, and then she tapped a key on her laptop and sat down. His mother and father appeared on the screen, seated together at the kitchen table in their apartment.

‘Dr and Mrs Perera, you were in Sri Lanka when the tsunami of 2005 hit.’ Megan’s voice came from somewhere behind the camera. ‘The medical station that you set up to help the sick and the injured was the foundation of the present-day clinic. What were the biggest problems you faced...?’

The video lasted exactly five minutes. By the time it had finished, Jaye felt tears pricking at the sides of his eyes.

This wasn’t appropriate either. He knew the story well enough, he’d been there for much of it. The interview had clearly been carefully edited, and somehow Megan had managed to catch all the passion, the battle against seemingly overwhelming odds, and the achievements that had kept everyone going. At the end of the interview there were photographs, some of which had been taken from his parents’ personal albums.

There was silence in the room and then someone started to clap. Megan grabbed her laptop and hurried back to her seat, red-faced, as everyone applauded.

* * *

Everyone had crowded around Megan when the session ended, wanting to know more about the Sri Lankan clinic. Jaye had hurried from the room, trying not to notice that Megan’s head had turned to watch him go.

He’d taken refuge in an armchair, tucked into the corner of the large landing where the main staircase split in two. It was one of his favourite places in the house where he could sit and watch the world go by, without being a part of it. But as Megan walked through the hallway, she looked up and saw him there.

‘May I join you?’ She walked half way up towards him and then stopped.

‘Yes, of course.’ Jaye rose from the chair and sat down on the stairs next to it.

‘Is this your stair?’ She had a mischievous look in her eyes as she approached him.

Actually, it was. The one where he’d sat as a child, hidden from the hallway by the turn in the stairs but able to peep out and see what was going on.

‘Why don’t you try it for size?’ There was plenty of room there for two.

Megan nodded, sitting down next to him. Looking around, she peered through the heavy banister rails to see down into the main hall.

‘It’s a good stair. Just right.’ She smiled at him, and Jaye felt a warm tingle shoot down his spine.

‘I think so.’ His legs were a little longer now, so it wasn’t such a good hiding place as it had once been. But his initials were still there, carved into the stair tread and hidden by the carpet.

She was hugging her laptop, obviously there on a mission. Jaye waited. No doubt Megan would come out with it, sooner rather than later.

‘I hope you didn’t mind... Your mother and father were really happy to do the interview and they offered to let me scan some of their photographs... They were very kind, and I didn’t mean to impose on them by asking so much. I hope you don’t feel it was too personal.’

‘Not a bit. And my parents looked as if they were really enjoying it. My father never passes up a chance to reminisce.’ It occurred to Jaye that including his parents’ words and photographs hadn’t been an exercise in currying favour. Megan had simply gone down the route that she felt told the story best, despite not being sure whether he’d approve. The thought made him smile.

‘I had to cut some bits out.’ She looked up at him, her eyes bright. ‘Did you really help dig the foundations of the clinic?’

‘I was a lot younger then.’ It seemed like a hundred years ago. And yet somehow he could still touch the feeling of something fresh and new.

‘John spoke to me about sending me there for my first assignment. I’ll have to check out your bricklaying skills.’ She was clearly testing the water, waiting for Jaye’s opinion on the matter.

‘Well, when you get there, take the path that runs around the back of the building. We all put our initials in the cement, under the window of the main ward.’

Megan gave a broad smile. ‘I will. I can’t wait...’

She seemed to have said all she’d come to say and had begun to fidget nervously. Jaye stretched his legs out in front of him, wondering if he might persuade her to stay. Just so he could breathe her scent a little longer.

‘What do you think of the course so far?’

‘It’s been great, really helpful. It’s been good to talk to people from other charities and compare the different approaches. And being in this house has made all the difference.’

Jaye had always felt he paled into insignificance next to the great house, set in its spectacular landscape, but it was disappointing to hear the words on Megan’s lips. He wouldn’t have minded so much if Sonia hadn’t fallen so irrevocably in love with the place. When he’d first brought her here, she’d hardly looked at him all day, as if he’d suddenly melted into a poor second place in her heart. Jaye had tried to dismiss the feeling, but it had turned out to be a warning of things to come.

‘You think the house is what makes the difference. Not the people in it?’

She flashed him a withering look, as if he’d misunderstood on purpose. ‘What I meant was that we don’t leave every evening, so we sit and talk a lot more. Don’t you think that surroundings have an impact on how people operate?’

Jaye chuckled. ‘Yes, I do. It’s one of the founding principles of the clinic in Sri Lanka. We tried to make it a quiet place, where people could find healing and balance.’

‘The principles of Ayurvedic medicine? You practise that?’

‘No. But we understand that tradition sometimes has a lot to offer. We respect it.’

Megan nodded. ‘Everything I hear about the clinic in Sri Lanka just makes me want to go even more...’

She’d relaxed now, her shoulder brushing his arm as she turned to put her laptop on the stair next to her. That one touch seemed to linger.

‘So what impact do you think this house has had on the way the group has operated?’

‘Apart from the fact that I’m tempted to take a sandwich with me when I trek from my bed over to the shower in the mornings...? Not that my room isn’t lovely, of course, and very comfortable.’

‘Of course. And leaving your early morning hunger pangs out of it?’ Jaye filed the information under the category of irrelevant but nice to know.

‘It’s like a bubble. It seems as if it’s been here for ever, and it must have seen so much over the years. That makes almost anything possible.’

Jaye swallowed hard. She seemed to have reached into him and found his own response to the house he’d been brought up in. Megan had seen past the glitz and the glamour that seemed to preoccupy so many others.

‘These are all the past Dukes?’ She was pointing up at the portraits, which stretched along the landing and up the stairs.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘And you’re carrying on their tradition.’

‘Not necessarily.’ Jaye heard his own laugh, almost breathless in the bubble that Megan had created around the two of them. ‘Some of them were rogues. The one just there almost gambled the estate away. Luckily for us, his son was a little more prudent. He’s the next one along.’

Megan craned her neck, staring at the painting and then glanced back at Jaye. ‘I can see a likeness, I think... Between you and the son.’

‘I’d be proud if there was one. He was one of the more enlightened Dukes of Marlowe.’

‘Why?’ She turned and Jaye shivered in her steady gaze. ‘What did he do?’

‘He was a campaigner against social injustice, at a time when no one thought about the sufferings of working people. He put his principles into practice, here on the estate.’

‘You’re very lucky, to have someone like that in your family.’

That was what his father had taught Jaye. When he’d been barely old enough to understand, his father had told him that this collection of paintings was a reminder of the choices that he could make in his own life.

‘We all have someone in our family we can look up to, don’t we?’

‘No. We don’t.’ Megan was shaking her head, quirking her mouth down.

If anything was possible, surely Jaye could ask her what made her so sure of that. But he didn’t dare.

‘I’m very lucky, then. My father’s always been someone I could look up to.’

‘Yes, you are.’ She puffed out a breath, as if whatever was on her mind didn’t matter so much after all, and she may as well say it. ‘Me and my father aren’t close, and that suits me fine. He had an affair with my mother—he was married and she was his secretary. I’m his awkward little secret.’

There was a weary defiance in her tone, as if she were challenging him to think whatever he liked. It occurred to Jaye that saying he was sorry to hear it would be quite the wrong thing to do.

‘Not so much of the little, I think...’

She stared at him for a moment, and then suddenly laughed. ‘Thank you. I don’t consider myself as little either, although I wouldn’t be surprised if my father did. He has a multi-million-pound business to run and much bigger fish to fry.’

It was one more piece in a puzzle that he was becoming compelled to complete. It really had been personal when Megan had walked out on him that first day. She’d thought he was like her own father, and that tough, personal experience had lent an edge to her anger.

‘And you don’t want any part of that?’

‘No, I don’t. I don’t like secrets, and this is his secret, not mine.’

Jaye called her bluff. ‘What’s his name? Maybe I’ve heard of him...’

Megan laughed, shaking her head. ‘Maybe you have, if you read the financial pages in the paper. And I’m not telling you, he has a wife and two sons. It wouldn’t be fair to them.’

He could respect that. All the same, it seemed that Megan was more burdened by the secret than she let on. But there was no chance to ask any more.

Voices sounded, growing louder as the group started to straggle back into the conference room, some still carrying their coffee with them. Megan sprang to her feet, looking around as if someone was going to appear out of nowhere and admonish her for sitting here, talking.

‘I’ve got to go...’

‘I’ll be along in a minute.’ Jaye suppressed the urge to tell her that this was his home, and she could sit here and talk with him for as long as she liked. She was already halfway down the stairs, clutching her laptop across her chest.

He watched through the bannisters as she joined the first of the group to appear in the hallway. Much as he had when he’d been a child, watching the guests arrive at one of his parents’ parties.

Jaye craned his neck, watching the top of Megan’s head disappear. He was no child now, and some possibilities were no longer a part of his future. He’d been scarred by love, and Megan was just making those scars ache a little.

* * *

Every time Megan caught a glimpse of the man behind Jaye’s façade it felt as if she were being swallowed up in the softness of his eyes. As if just talking to him was dangerous and exciting—something secret and delicious. And hadn’t she just been telling him how she abhorred secrets?

She had to get a grip. Talking was exactly what they were supposed to be doing. People were meant to swap experiences and ideas at this conference, that was the whole point of it.

But she still couldn’t resist looking for him, knowing where he was in the room and what he was doing. Even if she caught just a glimpse of him, it made the floor lurch under her feet, and gave her that sickening feeling that everything was spinning out of control.

It was almost a relief to find that he wasn’t joining in with the group discussions the following morning, as he was helping with the arrangements for the party that evening. But it was only a brief respite.

* * *

There was music swelling from one corner of the ballroom, where a string quartet was playing. Four young women in black dresses were clearly having some fun, inserting their own improvisations into some well-known classical pieces. Flickering candles highlighted the sheen of sumptuous fabric that hung at the high glazed doors leading out onto the terrace. Suddenly it all paled into insignificance.

Jaye.

In a dark suit and a crisp white shirt, which was currently goading Megan’s imagination into some very bad thoughts indeed. It was a twist on the ultimate embarrassment, those dreams where she walked into a crowded place and found herself naked. Imagining the smooth ripple of Jaye’s skin made her feel even more exposed.

The room was beginning to fill up, people she knew from the course, along with a legion of other guests, who all seemed to know each other. Megan swallowed hard and marched over to the drinks table. Caroline Perera turned and gave a smiling compliment about her hair and dress, including Megan in the group that she was talking to.

After making sure that everyone had a drink, and that they had all been introduced to each other, Caroline slipped away, greeting more people and introducing them. Megan smiled at the slim, shy-looking man standing next to her, who looked as if he’d just wandered in off the street and stayed for drinks.

‘Is this your first time? Working abroad?’ The man smiled back.

‘No, I was in Africa for a year. I came back four months ago, and I’ve been working as a supply nurse since then.’

‘Africa?’ The man’s eyes lit up. ‘Which part? I’m just back from Rwanda...’

* * *

Tim Gregson was fascinating. He must have been involved in aid work at a high level because his comments were insightful and informed, but he seemed intent on grilling Megan on her experiences and finding out what she thought.

‘You’ve been to so many places. What exactly do you do?’ Megan tried again to turn the conversation back to Tim’s experiences.

‘Oh... I advise. People listen sometimes.’ Tim shrugged vaguely and Megan stiffened suddenly as a quiet laugh came from behind her.

‘Tim’s a parliamentary special advisor. He has his finger on the pulse at Westminster.’ Jaye stepped into Megan’s line of view, reaching forward to shake Tim’s hand warmly.

‘If only. I’m not sure that anyone has enough fingers for that...’ Tim chuckled, clearly pleased with Jaye’s assertion.

‘A voice of sanity, then?’ Jaye shot a sidelong grin at Megan, and she felt a rush of embarrassment. It happened every time. That delicious and yet horribly out-of-control feeling as she stumbled and fell into the warmth of his gaze.

‘That would be nice. Sometimes I wonder,’ Tim responded dryly, and Jaye laughed. Clearly the two men knew each other well. Maybe they wouldn’t notice if she slipped away.

She took a tentative step backwards and Jaye rounded on her. ‘Tim’s far too self-effacing. He’s helped us out with the planning on a lot of our projects.’

‘Caroline doesn’t see things that way,’ Tim joked. ‘She frisked me on the way in to make sure I wasn’t carrying any sharp objects.’

Jaye chuckled. ‘My mother has a much longer memory than I have.’

‘Ask him about the sticking plaster.’ Tim leaned confidingly towards Megan. ‘I’ll lay odds he hasn’t forgotten about that one.’

‘Sticking plaster?’ Megan forgot all about escape and turned to Jaye.

‘That was a very long time ago. When we were kids we decided to try our hands at covert surveillance, like we’d seen on TV. We rigged up a couple of voice recorders and taped them under our shirts...’

‘With the biggest roll of sticking plaster I’d ever seen. Jaye had obviously been taking lessons from his father about how to tape broken ribs, and was extremely thorough...’

‘I think I still have the scars from where my mother ripped it all off to see what was underneath.’ Jaye’s hand wandered to his chest, and Megan swallowed down the impulse to remind him that she was a nurse and could take a look at them if he wanted.

‘The worst thing was that we never actually managed to record anything. We’d put our jumpers and coats on, to hide all the lumps and bumps, and all you could hear was a bit of rustling, and then Caroline, asking us what on earth we were up to.’

Jaye quirked the sides of his mouth down. ‘Yes. That was a big disappointment.’

The image of two boys, play-acting and exploring in the winding corridors and vast rooms, floated into Megan’s mind. The Jaye who made use of the formal entrance and main staircase seemed to have lost something along the way. Or maybe it had been stolen from him. It seemed that Sonia had a lot to answer for.

‘More wine?’ Tim turned and picked up a bottle from the table.

‘No...thanks.’ Megan shielded the top of her glass with her hand. ‘I should go and see where Alice has got to...’ She looked around desperately, hoping that the friend she’d made during the conference wasn’t anywhere in sight.

Jaye was suddenly still and silent, as if this sudden glimpse at something like intimacy was too much for him too. Megan smiled at Tim and made her escape.