Читать книгу Sweet Surrender - CATHERINE GEORGE, Catherine George - Страница 7

NEXT morning, Fenny knocked on Kate’s door and came in with two mugs of tea, then perched, yawning, on the end of the bed.

‘This is very good of you,’ said Kate, surprised. ‘Thanks, Fen.’

‘My pleasure. So how are things, schoolteacher?’ Fenny’s green eyes sparkled below a tangled mass of hair as dark as Kate’s. ‘Life in the sticks as scintillating as usual?’

‘A laugh a minute,’ agreed Kate, and sat up to drink her tea. ‘Who drove you home last night?’

‘Prue’s boyfriend. She came home for the weekend, too.’

‘But she lives in Marlborough.’

‘After he dropped her off he insisted on driving me all the way here, so who was I to refuse?’

‘You should have invited him in to supper.’

‘No way.’ Fenny grinned. ‘Time for that when it’s my boyfriend, not someone else’s.’

‘You’re incorrigible!’

‘But cute with it.’

‘Oh, yes,’ sighed Kate. ‘You’re cute, all right. But don’t push your luck, Fen.’

‘With blokes, you mean? Don’t worry. I’m quite sensible really. And I’m going to wear a skirt today.’

‘No! I suppose that means I have to as well, then.’

‘I bet you were anyway, Miss Sobersides.’

Kate gave her a sharp look. ‘Is that how you see me?’

‘Lately, yes,’ said Fenny candidly. ‘So for heaven’s sake let that gorgeous hair down today, Kate—literally, I mean—and wear something to knock the vicar’s eye out.’

‘Is that why you brought me the tea? So you could give me a pep talk about my looks?’

‘I brought the tea,’ said Fenny indignantly, ‘out of the goodness of my heart!’

Kate laughed. ‘Then thank you kindly.’

‘I wonder if Adam and Gabriel got any sleep last night? That baby has a powerful pair of lungs.’ Fenny slid off the bed and stretched. ‘I shall be back shortly with your breakfast.’

‘You will not! I’m getting up—’

‘Mother said you’re to stay where you are for a bit. Best place to be; it’s freezing outside. I hope you brought your thermals.’ Fenny paused in the doorway. ‘By the way, Gabriel and the grandmas are wearing hats—Leo, too.’

Kate groaned. ‘No one told me.’

‘Mother was discussing it downstairs with Dad just now. I think she has something in mind for you.’

‘Don’t tell me she’s bought me a hat?’

Fenny giggled. ‘If so you’ll just have to grin and wear it!’

But Frances Dysart, it transpired, had not gone shopping for a hat. She arrived a little later with a breakfast tray, and Fenny, eyes dancing, following behind with a large hat box.

‘The godmother really should wear a hat, Kate,’ said Frances the traditionalist, and laid the tray across her daughter’s knees. ‘I know you don’t have one, so I had a search on top of the cupboards in our dressing room. Open the box, Fenny.’

Rolling her eyes at Kate behind her mother’s back, Fenny removed several layers of silver paper from a striking hat in pale, dark-spotted fur.

‘Wow,’ said Kate faintly. ‘Please tell me that’s fake ocelot, Mother!’

‘Of course it is. Though the polite word is faux, darling.’

Kate eyed it doubtfully. ‘Do you really think it’s me?’

‘You’ll look great in it,’ said Fenny unexpectedly. ‘Lots of make-up on your eyes and the hat worn dead straight above them—very sexy!’

‘I’m not sure that was my intention,’ said Frances dryly. ‘But she’s right, Kate. You’ll look perfect. Now, eat your breakfast.’

‘I can’t remember you in anything like that, Mother.’

‘It was Grandma Dysart’s, bought for a winter wedding. She had a coat with matching cuffs—there’s a photograph somewhere.’ Frances shooed Fenny to the door. ‘Right, then, Kate, we’ll see you later.’

Kate ate her breakfast thoughtfully, her eyes on the hat on the dressing table. At last she could resist it no longer, and got out of bed, brushed her hair back behind her ears and pulled on the hat. Relieved to sniff lavender instead of camphor, she stood back, eyeing the result. Even with striped pyjamas, and without layers of eye make-up, the fur hat was dramatic. And surprisingly flattering.

When Kate got downstairs she found Mrs Briggs, her mother’s cleaner, dealing with potatoes in the kitchen sink while Frances carved slices from a ham. Kate greeted Mrs Briggs affectionately, put her breakfast things in the dishwasher, then demanded a job.

‘You can slice the turkey, if you like,’ said her mother.

‘Won’t Dad mind? Carving’s his specialty.’

‘He’s gone for a drive. Hal was so wakeful last night I ordered Gabriel and Adam back to bed for a nap. The baby was a bit noisy after they left him here, so Tom and Fenny went out in the car with him to let me get on.’ Frances chuckled. ‘No matter how cross he is Hal goes to sleep the moment the engine starts.’

Kate listened to the latest news of Stavely from Mrs Briggs as the three of them put the finishing touches to the feast, then went into the dining room to lay out silverware on the vast damask cloth that only came out for special occasions. Afterwards Kate sent her mother up to dress, checked on the arrangements she’d made the day before with Jack Spencer’s flowers, then returned to the kitchen when she heard Fenny come in with her father and Adam.

‘I hope your hourly rate isn’t too exorbitant, Fen,’ said Adam, relieving her of his sleeping son.

‘You may ply me with champagne later,’ she assured him.

‘Mother says you’re to go up and change, Dad,’ warned Kate.

‘Shouldn’t I be doing the carving?’

‘All taken care of while you were touring the countryside,’ she assured him.

‘Thanks, Dad,’ said Adam gratefully. ‘Gabriel and I slept like logs for a couple of hours.’

‘Which was the object of the exercise,’ said his father, on his way to the door. ‘Go on, get your lad dressed in his best bib and tucker. People will be arriving soon.’

‘Don’t forget, Kate, leave your hair down,’ ordered Fenny as they went upstairs, then bit her lip. ‘Sorry! I’m bossy, but I mean well.’

‘I know. I tried the hat on, by the way. It looks rather good.’

‘Which, translated from Kate-speak, means it’s a knockout!’

Later, in a clinging amber knit dress bought with her Christmas present money, Kate eyed herself critically in the mirror. Her hair, brushed back to reveal her ears, left the emphasis on the eyes she thought of as her best feature. The dark-rimmed irises were translucent hazel shot with gold, and made up today with a drama she normally never bothered with. And probably wouldn’t have bothered with now, she admitted sheepishly, if Alasdair Drummond hadn’t been invited. The sound of cars drawing up outside sent her to the window to see her sister Leonie and her husband, Jonah Savage, greeting Gabriel’s parents, and Kate yanked on tall-heeled brown suede boots and hurried from the room to bang on Fenny’s door.

‘Get a move on. Leo’s arrived.’

After a flurry of hugs and kisses everyone was soon crowded into the kitchen as usual, catching up with each others news as they drank coffee. Gabriel handed her son over to her mother, so that Laura Brett could indulge in extravagant baby-worship as she told her grandson how beautiful he was, and, after contributing her own share, Leo drew Kate aside.

‘You look good, love. Great to see that hair down for once. All set to carry out your duties?’

Kate flicked a hand at Leonie’s violet wool suit. ‘You look pretty gorgeous yourself, Mrs Savage. But I’m a tad nervous about the godmother bit. I just hope I don’t drop my nephew in the font.’

Jonah Savage hugged Kate and Fenny in turn. ‘Hi there, you gorgeous creatures. Invited anyone along today?’

‘If you mean anyone male, no,’ said Kate. ‘Fenny wouldn’t know which one to choose, for a start.’

‘I’m not the only one,’ said Fenny, and batted her eyelashes at Jonah. ‘Adam says Kate has two admirers. Two that he knows about, anyway.’

Kate shot her a startled look, then choked back a laugh. Fenny meant the accountant and the teacher, not the pharmaceutical star and the builder.

‘She’s got an older flame than that coming today,’ said Adam, joining them. ‘Remember Alasdair Drummond? He’s back from the States, so I asked him along.’

Leonie gave her sister a sharp look. ‘You two still in touch, then?’

Kate shrugged. ‘Not really. I hadn’t heard from him for ages until a couple of days ago.’

‘Is he the one you were up at Cambridge with?’ asked Fenny.

‘For a while. He was a lofty research fellow and I was a humble first-year when we met.’

‘Then how on earth did you manage to get friendly?’ Fenny pulled a face. ‘It wouldn’t happen at my Alma Mater.’

Kate shrugged. ‘He just happened to be on hand the day I arrived, helped carry my gear, and sort of looked out for me from then on.’

‘Her minder. He kept the wolves from her door,’ said Adam with satisfaction.

Kate made a face at him and went off to talk to Gabriel’s parents, leaving Leonie to gaze after her with troubled eyes.

‘I hope that’s not starting up again,’ she murmured.

‘What?’ said Fenny curiously.

Leonie sighed. ‘Kate had a huge crush on Alasdair Drummond in those days.’

‘Reciprocated?’

‘No. Which worries me.’

‘Kate doesn’t look worried.’ Jonah comforted his wife. ‘Besides, that was years ago. She’ll have got over it by this time.’

Fenny’s eyes gleamed. ‘Or is she still carrying a torch for this Alasdair?’

‘I hope not.’ Leonie fixed her brother with an accusing eye. ‘What gave you the bright idea of asking him here today?’

‘I’ve been doing some business with him. Besides, I like him.’ Adam shrugged ruefully. ‘And I thought, in my infinite wisdom, that Kate would be pleased. But Gabriel says I’m wrong.’

Leonie sighed. ‘Oh, well, it’s only for an hour or two. Kate can hardly come to harm with us around.’

‘How can she come to any harm?’ said Fenny, mystified. ‘It’s a christening, not an orgy!’

“‘Out of the mouth of very babes…’” teased Jonah. ‘Your mother’s signalling, Leo. Time to put on your hat.’

Fenny pulled a face. ‘I’ll be the only one with naked hair.’

‘Good thing St Paul can’t be here, then,’ said Jonah. ‘Women’s hair was his weakness. Mine too.’ He leered at his wife. ‘One of them, anyway.’

‘Don’t be rude,’ said Fenny, sticking her tongue out at him. ‘If Kate heard you she’d start scraping her hair back in a bun again, so keep your weaknesses to yourself, Jonah Savage.’

A few minutes later the newest addition to the family was swathed in the shawl that served all Dysart christenings, and his various female relatives were ready and hatted when Fenny dashed to join them, wearing a man’s navy coat and clumpy, platform-soled shoes, her hand held up for attention.

‘For pity’s sake tell her she looks great,’ she hissed, then stood aside nonchalantly when Kate appeared in her long, fitted coat of bronze wool, hair rippling in a shining dark cascade down her back, the fake-fur hat set straight over eyes that looked around in question.

‘What do you think? Will I do?’

‘You look amazing, Kate!’ said Gabriel, handing her son to Adam. ‘Straight out of Doctor Zhivago.’

‘The hat looks wonderful on you, darling,’ said Tom Dysart, and exchanged a smile with his wife. ‘I remember my mother in it.’

‘You put us all in the shade,’ Leonie assured her sister warmly.

Adam grinned at Kate over his son’s head. ‘Prepare yourself for a photo call after the ceremony, godmother.’

‘When are the godfathers arriving?’ she asked, as everyone made a move.

‘Hopefully they’re at the church right now, along with everyone else.’ Adam looked at his watch. ‘At least Jeremy Blyth will be. But punctuality was never one of Charlie’s strong suits.’

‘I thought you had a row with Charlie Hawkins,’ said Leonie, as they went out to the cars.

‘All in the past,’ Adam told her, smiling at Gabriel.

‘Life’s too short to be at odds with old friends,’ agreed his wife. ‘The other godfather is my old friend.’

‘The famous Jeremy Blyth, art dealer extraordinaire,’ said Harry Brett, grinning at his daughter. ‘What’s he giving Hal for a present, Gabriel? A Picasso?’

‘We should be so lucky!’

When the family party arrived at the church a small crowd of people were gathered outside in the icy sunshine. Towering above the rest, Alasdair Drummond, superbly dark-suited, was deep in conversation with a similarly formal Charles Hawkins, who had been friends with Adam Dysart since their first day at school. But Jeremy Blyth, a slender man with sleek fair hair, was exquisite and unmistakable in a pearl-grey suit, with bow tie and waistcoat in lilac silk.

Kate saw Alasdair stop mid-sentence as he caught sight of her, and gave him a brilliant smile as Gabriel hurried to kiss Jeremy Blyth and Charlie before moving on to smile at the man next in line.

‘By a process of elimination,’ said Gabriel, ‘you must be Alasdair Drummond. I’m Gabriel Dysart.’

‘Then Adam’s a lucky man,’ he assured her. ‘It was good of him to invite me here today.’

‘Hospitable bloke,’ said Charlie, clapping Adam on the shoulder. ‘May I say you look stunning, Mrs Dysart?’

‘As many times as you like,’ Gabriel assured him. ‘Come and meet your godson.’

After a round of greetings and kisses with friends and neighbours, everyone moved inside for the service. Kate received Henry Thomas Dysart into her arms, and looked up to meet grey eyes regarding her from the background with a heat which brought her lashes down to hide the triumph in her own. Alasdair Drummond might have thought of her in a brotherly way in the past, but that, Kate knew without doubt, was no longer the case. Ignoring a rush of excitement totally unsuitable to her surroundings, she kept her attention firmly on the stirring bundle in her arms and, in unison with Jeremy Blyth and Charlie Hawkins, made the necessary affirmations about her part in young Hal’s future welfare.

The baby objected so volubly to the holy water there was a ripple of delighted laugher, and Kate, not without trepidation, took him into her arms again and rocked him against her shoulder. Gabriel handed over a pacifier, Kate slid it into the protesting mouth, and instantly there was peace to finish the service and for the photographs outside before the short drive back to Friars Wood.

Mrs Briggs, with the help of her daughter, had been busy in their absence. When the guests were shown straight into the large, south-facing dining room the table looked magnificent, with the flowers Kate had arranged as centrepiece, and an array of food, hot and cold, flanked by glasses which glittered in the rays from the setting sun, waiting for the champagne Charlie Hawkins, successful wine merchant, had provided as part of his gift to his godson.

Master Dysart was changed into something more comfortable, then provided with milk administered by Laura Brett, who persuaded Frances Dysart to keep her company on a sofa while the daughters of the house served guests with the celebration meal.

It was some time before Kate, now minus the hat, had time to talk to Alasdair, but at last she felt obliged to join him on his perch on the ledge in the big square bay window.

‘Have you been introduced to everyone?’ she asked.

‘Adam saw to that.’ He gave her a look which brought heat to her face. ‘You looked breathtaking in that hat, Kate—straight from a Russian fairy tale.’

‘Why, thank you, kind sir,’ she said lightly.

‘You should always wear that glorious hair down.’

‘Don’t you start! It was OK when I was eighteen, but I’m a big girl now, Alasdair.’

His soft laughter raised hairs on her spine.

‘Not really, Kate. More a pocket Venus!’

‘What are you saying to make this delightful creature blush?’ asked Jeremy Blyth, joining them.

‘Do sit down,’ said Kate, patting the broad ledge beside her. ‘Alasdair was just paying me a compliment. I think.’

‘As well he might, my dear.’ Jeremy shook his head. ‘I wonder if my darling Gabriel had any idea what she had to compete with when she met Adam? You Dysarts are a handsome lot.’

‘Including the baby of the family,’ agreed Alasdair, looking across the room to Fenny, who was chattering to Harry Brett and Jonah. ‘That charmer was a gawky little kid when I saw her last.’

‘But little girls get bigger every day, dear boy,’ said Jeremy, and turned to Kate. ‘Now then, fellow godparent, at what point should we converge, like the Magi, to present our gifts to the infant?’

‘After the cake is cut and everyone is refilled with champagne for the toasts,’ she said promptly.

‘Talking of which,’ said Alasdair, getting up, ‘your glass is empty, Kate. Let me get you a refill.’

‘Just lemonade, please.’

‘Oh, come on, Kate, you must have champagne in honour of your godson,’ he protested.

‘Not for me, thanks,’ she said with finality.

‘Is your aversion to alcohol in general, my dear?’ asked Jeremy gently after Alasdair left them.

‘Not at all. Just champagne—or any kind of wine, really.’ Kate smiled at him, then beckoned to Charlie Hawkins. ‘We hand over the presents after the cake is cut, Charlie. Not that mine will be a surprise. Adam found it for me.’

‘Do tell,’ said Jeremy promptly.

‘Crystal claret jug—silver-mounted, but empty.’ Kate grinned at Charlie. ‘I’ll come to you for the claret when Hal’s eighteen.’

‘I’ll keep you to that, my lovely,’ he promised, and thrust a hand through his red hair. ‘I was over the moon when Adam asked me to be godfather, I can tell you. Never expected it in the circumstances.’

‘A more tactful person wouldn’t ask, but I’m famed for my lack of finesse,’ said Jeremy, eyes gleaming. ‘What circumstances, dear boy?’

‘Adam and I fell out over a woman a while back—before he met Gabriel,’ confessed Charlie. ‘Stupid mistake on my part. All over now, thankfully. Gabriel persuaded him to let bygones be bygones.’

‘Adam didn’t take much persuading—he was only too glad to mend the rift,’ said Kate, and looked up with a smile as Alasdair returned with her glass. ‘Thank you.’

‘Unadulterated, I swear,’ he promised her.

‘Good,’ Kate got up in response to Leonie’s beckoning hand. ‘If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen, duty calls.’

‘Gabriel and Adam are about to cut the cake while Dad and Jonah top up the champagne glasses,’ said Leonie when Kate joined her. She gave her sister a keen look. ‘So. How are things with Alasdair?’