Читать книгу Reform of the Rake - CATHERINE GEORGE, Catherine George - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

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AFTER a restless night Lowri slept late next morning, and awoke at last to loud knocking on the office door. She jumped out of bed, pulling on her kimono.

‘Coming!’ she called, wincing at the pounding in her head, and went to the door to admit Dominic.

‘Mum says will you come over? You’ve had a telephone call.’ He eyed her in surprise. ‘Gosh, Lowri, what a shiner! How did you get that?’

Since Lowri could barely see out of one eye, the question came as no surprise. ‘I bumped into something,’ she said with perfect truth. Guy Seton’s elbow had rammed her eye while she was fighting him off. She smiled at Dominic. ‘Tell Mum I’ll be there as soon as I’ve dressed. I’ve been lazy this morning.’

One look in the bathroom mirror told her that trying to keep last night’s events from Sarah would be a complete waste of time. The truth, Lowri thought, resigned, will out whether I want it to or not. She frowned, realising she’d forgotten to ask Dominic who’d rung her.

Later, dressed in jeans and an old checked shirt, Lowri put on dark glasses to shield her eye from the bright sunshine and crossed the garden to join Sarah and Rupert in the kitchen.

‘Good morning,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘Where’s Emily?’

‘Dominic’s keeping her amused until you’ve told us about the black eye,’ said Sarah promptly, pouring coffee.

Rupert plucked the glasses from Lowri and whistled. ‘Hell’s bells!’ his eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Right. Tell me who did that, Lowri—now!’

‘First tell me who rang,’ she said quickly to divert him.

‘It was Adam,’ said Sarah, ‘He’s coming round later to take you out to lunch.’ She eyed Lowri militantly. ‘But never mind that—how on earth did you get that shiner?’

Lowri, trying to appear unaffected by the news that Adam intended taking her out, drank some coffee and gave a terse account of the encounter with Guy Seton. ‘So you don’t have to do battle for me,’ she told an incensed Rupert at the end of it. ‘Adam knocked Guy Seton cold last night on the spot. The man probably looks—and feels—far worse than I do this morning.’

‘I should bloody well hope he does,’ said Rupert savagely.

‘Is the eye the only damage?’ demanded Sarah urgently.

‘Yes. Adam arrived on the scene before Guy could have his wicked way with me.’ Lowri held out her cup for more coffee. ‘But it beats me why the wretched man should have been so intent on getting it. I’m not the type who drives men wild, now am I!’

‘You obviously appealed to Seton.’ Rupert scowled. ‘He took one look and kept sniffing round you all night. I would have done something about it, but he’s quite attractive, I suppose. You might have wanted it that way.’

‘I told you she wouldn’t,’ said Sarah with scorn. ‘Guy Seton’s bad news where women are concerned.’

‘Another heartbreaker, like Adam Hawkridge?’ asked Lowri slyly.

‘Adam would never be so crass as to assault anyone,’ said Sarah indignantly. ‘Guy was in school with Adam, I admit, but otherwise he’s not in the same class.’

‘Beats me what he was doing here at all.’ Rupert’s jaw set. ‘I’ll have a word with Adam, find out why the devil he brought the chap along in the first place.’

‘Caroline’s idea, probably—Adam seems fairly smitten in that direction from what I could see,’ said Sarah, and pushed a toast-rack towards Lowri. ‘Eat something.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Possibly not, but if you drink any more black coffee on an empty stomach you’ll rattle like a castanet.’

Lowri gave in, and felt a little better afterwards, though angry with a fate which gave her a black eye for her lunch date with Adam Hawkridge. Any other time she’d have been on Cloud Nine at the mere thought of it. Even if he was smitten with Caroline.

‘Go and change your clothes, slap on some lipstick,’ advised Sarah, reading her mind. ‘You’ll soon feel more enthusiastic.’

Duly attired in a newish pair of cream denims, long pink cable sweater and dark glasses Lowri both looked and felt a great deal better by the time Adam arrived. She opened the office door to his knock, her smile wobbling slightly at the sudden, vivid memory of his kisses the night before.

‘Hello, Lowri,’ he said, smiling, and took her hand. ‘I’ve rather press-ganged you into this, I’m afraid, but I wanted time alone with you to explain the drama last night.’

‘It’s very kind of you to take the trouble,’ she said sedately, and took her time in locking the door to the flat.

‘I’ve had a swift word with Sarah and Rupert to put them in the picture.’ He ran down the stairs in front of her then turned at the bottom to hold out a steadying hand. ‘Not unnaturally, Rupert feels responsible for you. He came down on me like a ton of bricks about my part in the affair.’

‘But I told him you came to my rescue,’ Lowri assured him as they left the garden by the side door.

‘Rupert pointed out that if I hadn’t brought Guy Seton no rescue would have been necessary. And he’s right.’ Adam’s wide mouth twisted in disgust, then he smiled at her. ‘Let’s say goodbye then make for the open spaces. I’ve brought a picnic.’

Lowri gave him a delighted smile. ‘What a brilliant idea!’

Adam suggested Runnymede, and a quiet spot near the river for their picnic lunch.

‘The “banks of the sweetest river in the world” according to John Evelyn,’ he told her later. He spread a rug for her, then opened a picnic basket to serve her with smoked trout pâté, cold chicken savoury with rosemary and garlic, a small bowl of green salad and crusty fresh rolls to eat with fierce farmhouse cheese.

‘How did you manage all this on a Sunday morning?’ asked Lowri, impressed. ‘I bet King John didn’t do nearly as well the day he signed the Magna Carta here.’

Adam’s eyes danced beneath the heavy, straight eyebrows. ‘My mother saw to it. I told her I needed to feed a very charming young lady from Wales. When she’d expressed her surprised approval—my usual female company tends more to smart nightspots than riverside picnics—she gave me some of the goodies intended for my father’s lunch. Don’t worry,’ he added, as she gave him a startled look. ‘There was more than enough left over—for them and several others. My mother’s catering is generous.’

‘Please thank her warmly on my behalf, and tell her how much it was appreciated,’ said Lowri, surprised to find her appetite alive and well after all. ‘This is lovely. All of it,’ she added.

Adam leaned forward and gently removed the sunglasses, his eyes hot with sudden anger as he examined her eye. ‘Exactly how did that happen?’ he asked harshly, giving her back the glasses. ‘If the swine hit you I’ll go back and break his jaw this time.’

Lowri hastily explained her accidental contact with Guy Seton’s elbow. ‘He was obviously high on something. Wouldn’t take no. Heaven knows why—I never gave him the slightest encouragement,’ she added irritably.

Adam looked grim. ‘He didn’t need any. The girl he lives with gave him the push yesterday. She delivered an ultimatum. He was to see sense about his cocaine habit or she was leaving. Seton objected. She could take him with all faults or not at all, since, I quote, he could pull any woman he wanted any time, and would prove it.’ Adam’s jaw tightened. ‘He stormed round in a state to Caroline, who’s always adored him. She was terrified to leave him on his own, and, knowing I’d refuse if she told me why, she insisted we take him with us to the party. You were the obvious choice for Seton to make good his boast. I’m sorry. I should never have let the bastard anywhere near you, Lowri.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ she assured him, and smiled. ‘Now let’s forget about Guy and just enjoy the sunshine. We don’t get enough to waste it, and tomorrow I’ll be back at my desk. Not that I mind,’ she added happily, ‘I can’t wait to find out what happens next in Rupert’s novel. We’re approaching the climax of the story.’

‘He’s a master of his craft, I agree.’ Adam smiled. ‘And damn lucky to find someone willing to work so hard for him.’

Lowri shook her head. ‘The luck’s all mine. When I left home I never dreamed I’d find something so interesting to do, especially with a flat thrown in. I owe such a lot to Sarah and Rupert.’

He eyed her curiously. ‘Why were you in such a hurry to leave this home of yours?’

Lowri looked away. ‘Dad and I have been closer than most, but now he’s got Holly it’s only fair to leave him to his new life without me in the way. Especially now Holly’s pregnant.’

‘Ah. Do you mind that?’

‘No—at least not now. It was a bit of a shock at first. Though I should have expected it; pretty obvious really from the way—’ She stopped, flushing.

‘I take it your father’s very much in love with his new wife,’ said Adam quietly.

‘Exactly. And she with him.’ Lowri turned away to investigate an insulated jug. ‘Mmm, wonderful—coffee. Want some?’

They fell silent as they drank the dark, fragrant brew provided by Mrs Hawkridge. After a while Adam leaned over and took her hand.

‘Never mind, Lowri. One day you’ll marry and have a baby of your own, and no more regrets about your new little stepbrother—or sister.’

She withdrew her hand swiftly. ‘My regrets were very short-lived, Adam.’

‘Sorry.’ He lay flat on his back, hands linked behind his head. ‘Nevertheless I meant what I said. You’re exactly the type for marriage and babies, Lowri Morgan.’

‘Because I’m not blonde and voluptuous and a frequenter of fashionable haunts—like Caroline Seton and Miss Thirty-two E?’

Adam opened a disapproving hazel eye. ‘That’s not what I said. Those two are just to play with. You’re the sort men marry.’

Lowri grinned impudently. ‘Whereas you blench at the mere thought of marriage, I suppose!’

‘How right you are. I’ve got too much to do to get married. When Dad retires, Hawke Electronics will be wife, mistress and family rolled into one. I’ll have no time left over for the normal kind. All my energies will be concentrated on the company.’

Such a waste, thought Lowri, her eyes on the powerful, sprawled figure.

‘Besides,’ said Adam, his eyes closed, ‘I’ve good reason to be allergic to the sanctity of marriage.’

Lowri sat very still. ‘I heard what happened to your brother, if that’s what you mean.’

‘I do. I keep thinking I could have prevented what happened if I’d been home. Stupid really. Peter was always a highly strung, sensitive sort of chap—nothing like me. But to end it all just because his wife walked out on him! Damned if I would—but enough of that.’ Adam leapt suddenly to his feet, holding out his hand. ‘Come on, let’s pack this stuff back in the car and go for a walk.’

As Lowri strolled with Adam Hawkridge through the sunlit afternoon, it suddenly occurred to her that she was finally living out the fantasies she’d indulged in before coming to live in London. She was actually wandering over watermeadows with a tall, devastatingly attractive man, a thought which added such sparkle to her mood Adam showed gratifying signs of reluctance when he parted with her in Hamilton Terrace.

‘I won’t come in, Lowri,’ he said, as he stopped the car. ‘I should have been somewhere else half an hour ago, so give my best to Sarah and Rupert and tell them I took great care of their little cousin.’

‘It was a lovely day. Thank you, Adam.’

He smiled at her and patted her hand affectionately. ‘My pleasure too, Lowri. You’re very sweet—take good care of yourself.’

Lowri hesitated, then gave him a funny little smile. ‘Can I ask you a very personal question, Adam?’

He grinned. ‘Feel free.’

‘Is Caroline the thirty-six C angel blush?’

Adam threw back his head and roared with laughter, then squeezed her hand, winking at her. ‘Actually, no. You haven’t met Miss Thirty-Six.’

Lowri shook her head, laughing, waved him off then reported in to Rupert and Sarah. She took herself off to her own little domain later to reflect on the day and wish, rather irritably, that Adam thought of her as something more exciting than the Clares’ nice little cousin. She’d hoped against hope that he’d kiss her again, so she could show him she was all woman as well as just ‘sweet’. Sarah was right, she thought moodily, as she lay in a hot bath. Adam Hawkridge was a heartbreaker of the most dangerous type of all—totally unaware of his own power.

Lowri buckled down to work with a will next morning, determined to put Adam Hawkridge firmly from her mind. Rupert had almost finished dictating his novel. In a day or two he would have given her all the tapes and by the end of the week Lowri hoped to finish typing the first draft.

‘Then you’ll have to type the whole thing all over again, and not just once but several times, probably,’ warned Sarah. ‘Rupert’s rarely satisfied with it until about the fourth or fifth draft. Do you think you’ll cope?’

‘Of course I will,’ said Lowri cheerfully, then raised an eyebrow. ‘What happens when it’s finally finished? Does that mean I’m out of a job?’

‘Of course not! Rupert’s already got the next book in mind. You’ll be needed to research for ages before he actually starts on it. Which, I warn you, means long hours shut up in libraries, or lugging home weighty tomes to search for some obscure detail Rupert can’t do without.’

Lowri beamed, delighted. ‘Sounds great to me. History was my best subject at school.’

Rupert finished dictating his novel by mid-week and Lowri finished typing it late on the Saturday evening, ignoring all protests from the Clares about working on a weekend.

‘I just have to know how it ends,’ she said firmly, and refused to budge from her desk until the last line was typed. She sat back with a sigh at last, her mind buzzing with Jonah Haldane and his triumphant victory over his adversaries.

‘Well?’ demanded Rupert, when she went over to the house later to say she’d finished. ‘What do you think?’

Lowri heaved a great sigh. ‘It’s utterly magnificent, Rupert.’

‘Not recycled Dickens, then,’ said Sarah with satisfaction.

‘Sarah! What a horrible thing to say.’

‘Rupert’s description, not mine. I haven’t even read it yet.’

Lowri turned on Rupert in fury. ‘Don’t you dare say that, Rupert Clare! I’ve never dared admit it because I seemed to be in a minority of one, but Dickens always bored me rigid. Whereas your book—’ She waved her hands, searching for the right word. ‘I can’t express myself like you, Rupert, but what I’m trying to say is that when I came to the last line I wished desperately that I hadn’t finished it, that I was starting at the beginning again. And this is just the draft—think of the impact when you’re finally satisfied with it!’

Rupert threw his arms round her, laughing. ‘All right, you little spitfire. Every novelist should have a champion like you. How long will it take you to print the last bit?’

‘By Tuesday, I should think—Monday if I work tomorrow.’

‘Definitely not,’ said Sarah firmly. ‘Rupert’s giving you a treat tomorrow. At least I hope it’s a treat-Dominic’s sure you’ll be thrilled.’

‘Would you like to watch some Sunday cricket at Lord’s?’ said Rupert. ‘Sarah’s taking Emily to some birthday party, so how about coming to see Middlesex play your beloved Glamorgan with Dominic and me?’

Lowri was just as thrilled as Dominic had predicted. Lord’s cricket ground was within such easy walking distance of the house she’d been longing to get to a match there ever since moving to St Johns Wood.

‘Dad will be green with envy,’ she said with a sigh of pleasure.

Sarah smiled affectionately. ‘Not every girl’s idea of a fun day!’

‘But then,’ mocked Rupert, ‘Lowri’s a Morgan like you, by no means a run-of-the-mill type of female.’

After her week of gruelling work it was an enormous pleasure to Lowri to sit between Dominic and Rupert at the famous cricket ground, applauding with partisan enthusiasm as she watched the Glamorgan eleven pull out all the stops against Middlesex.

‘This is my second picnic in the space of a week,’ she commented happily as they shared the picnic she’d helped Sarah pack earlier. ‘Only this time I’ve got cricket as well and I adore one day-games. Dad’s such a purist that he looks down on Sunday cricket, but I think it’s exciting. Thank you so much for bringing me, Rupert.’

‘I want to be a professional cricketer,’ said Dominic indistinctly, wolfing a pork pie. ‘I hope I’ll be picked for the first eleven when I get to Shrewsbury.’

‘Of course you will,’ said a familiar voice, and all three turned round to see Adam Hawkridge laughing down at them. ‘Make a few more catches like the one you saw Lowri off with and you can’t fail. Greetings, everyone. May I join you?’

Rupert sprang to his feet to welcome the newcomer, Dominic beaming as he made room for Adam between himself and Lowri.

‘You were lucky to find us in this crowd,’ said Rupert, offering him a sandwich.

‘I rang Sarah—she told me roughly where you’d be.’ Adam smiled down at a suddenly shy Lowri. ‘I gather this is your reward for working so hard.’

‘Not every girl’s idea of a treat,’ said Rupert indulgently.

‘Actually I rang up to see if you were free tonight,’ said Adam, accepting a second sandwich.

‘Me?’ enquired Rupert blandly.

‘No, thanks, you’re not my type!’ Adam grinned, then turned to Lowri. ‘It was this lady I was after. I realise it’s short notice, but I wondered if you’d care for a meal tonight somewhere and a film afterwards?’

Lowri bolted an unchewed morsel of sandwich whole, eyes watering. There was nothing in the whole wide world she’d have liked better, but that was hardly the point. Caroline, or Fiona, or Miss Thirty-Six C or one of probably a dozen others must have let him down at the last minute, leaving him at a loose end. She smiled politely. ‘How very kind. But I’m afraid I’m tied up tonight.’

Adam stared in surprise, the wind very obviously taken out of his sails. He pulled himself together, smiling rather stiffly. ‘My bad luck. I suppose it was a bit optimistic to expect you to be free. Another time, maybe?’

Lowri returned the smile non-committally, then rummaged in the picnic basket, conscious of the narrowed look Rupert turned on her. ‘Anyone for an apple?’

When they got back to the house Lowri listened to a spirited account of the birthday party from an excited Emily, volunteered to put her to bed and read a story, declined supper on the excuse of the large picnic tea, and took herself off to mope in her own quarters.

An hour or so later Sarah knocked on her door and asked if she could come in for a while.

‘Of course.’ Lowri, glad of relief from her own morose company, went to put the kettle on for coffee.

‘You can tell me to go away, if you like.’

‘Of course I don’t mind.’ When Lowri returned with a tray she eyed her cousin sheepishly. ‘I suppose Rupert told you Adam asked me out tonight.’

‘He did, indeed.’ Sarah ran a hand through her long dark hair thoughtfully. ‘His account of the afternoon was very interesting. Adam obviously expected you to consent with maidenly—but prompt—gratitude and, I am told, seemed a bit put out when you refused. And since I know perfectly well you had no plans for this evening, unless you count washing your hair, or a date with a good book, I’m agog to know why you turned Adam down.’

‘I thought you’d have worked that one out for yourself.’ Lowri smiled ruefully. ‘He was so confident I’d say yes, you know! Besides, he’s dangerous—he frightens me.’

‘You’re not worried he’d behave like that beastly Seton man!’

‘Of course not. But you were the one who warned me, remember. The first time I laid eyes on Adam Hawkridge you told me he was a heartbreaker. You were right. I could like him a lot—far too much for safety. If I see too much of him I could get my fingers burnt a second time. So I refused. Besides,’ added Lowri tartly, ‘I objected to the way he breezed up at the cricket match, expecting me to accept with humble gratitude because somebody else stood him up tonight.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘What other reason could there be? I’ve got my pride, Sarah. It was pretty obvious he expected me to drop everything and run.’ She sniffed. ‘No chance.’

‘Rupert was deeply impressed,’ said Sarah, smiling. ‘Adam’s such a charmer that at a guess I’d say no woman’s ever said no to him in his life before, unless it was his mother, who’s absolutely lovely, by the way. A nice polite little no from you probably did him the world of good.’

‘I hope it did—because it didn’t do me any good at all,’ sighed Lowri despondently. ‘It quite spoiled my afternoon—and to cap it all Glamorgan lost by one measly run!’

Reform of the Rake

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