Читать книгу The Unexpected Pregnancy - CATHERINE GEORGE, Catherine George - Страница 8

THE drama of the afternoon left Harriet with no enthusiasm for a trip to Cheltenham to see a film, as she’d intended. Instead she stretched out on the cane sofa in the conservatory after supper, trying to read. But, restless for reasons she refused to analyse, she gave up after a while and went out to water the flowers in the herbaceous borders instead. She spotted a gap in the hedge she hadn’t noticed before, made a note to point it out to James and, reluctant to go back indoors on such a beautiful evening, she fetched her phone and sat on the rustic seat at the end of the garden to ring Dido.

‘About time,’ her friend said indignantly. ‘Don’t you ever look at your messages?’

‘I’ve had distractions.’ With suitable drama Harriet described her adventures of the afternoon.

‘Wow!’ said Dido, awed. ‘You must have been scared to death.’

‘Not really. He was only a kid. Anyway Tim’s brother came charging to the rescue—’

‘Are we talking the famous Jed here?’

‘That’s the one! He’s down here doing staff interviews for Edenhurst.’

‘And he just happened to be on hand in your hour of need? How come?’

‘No idea. He was just passing, I suppose. What’s new with you?’

In triumph Dido announced that she’d been given a pay rise, and told Harriet to be back in good time on Saturday. ‘I’m in a party mood, so I’ve asked some people round to celebrate. Make sure Tim comes, too.’

After she’d rung off Harriet sat staring down the garden, not too thrilled about going back to plunge straight into one of her friend’s parties. The flat would be filled to overflowing with glossy, perfectly groomed people who worked for the same famous cosmetics house as Dido. No one would leave until the small hours, and before getting to bed there would be an argument, as usual, when Harriet insisted the mess had to be cleared up first.

Then something Dido said came back to Harriet. Why had James appeared at her back door at just that particular moment? She curled a lock of hair round her finger as she tried to think of him objectively. If she’d met James Edward Devereux for the first time this week as a stranger, would she have been attracted to him on a purely man/woman basis? She bit her lip. She might have hero-worshipped him when she was a child, but she’d never thought of him in that way before, and right now the worrying answer was yes. Tim would laugh his head off when she told him—not that she would tell him. He wouldn’t understand. Nor would she blame him. She didn’t understand, either.

Harriet was on her way to bed when the phone rang, and because only one person ever rang her that late she chuckled as she lifted the receiver.

‘Some people keep respectable hours, Tim Devereux.’

‘Wrong brother, Harriet,’ said James coolly.

‘Oh—sorry. Hello.’

‘I had a word with Frank Watts and told him that if Greg wanted a job I’d see him tomorrow afternoon. I made no mention of accommodation, obviously.’

‘Will you give Greg the job even if I don’t let you have End House?’

‘Of course I will!’ said James impatiently. ‘I’m ringing at this hour because it would obviously help if I knew your decision about the house before I see him, Harriet. Think about it overnight. I’ll call round in the morning for your answer.’

Harriet locked up and went upstairs to lean out of the open bedroom window, the nostalgic, summer scent of roses reminding her that her grandmother would have strongly approved of James Devereux as the purchaser for End House. Olivia Verney had been very fond of Tim, but Harriet knew she’d had enormous respect for the brother who’d worked so hard to provide security for him.

Next morning Harriet was up early. After a shower she creamed her skin with one of the free samples that often came her way from Dido, brushed her hair until it shone, and instead of tying it back left it to cascade in loose waves to her shoulders. As the final touch she made her face up in City style, instead of the sole smear of moisturiser it had made do with since her arrival. Once she agreed to sell End House to James Devereux she might not see him again for ages and sheer pride urged her to leave him with a better impression than the tear-stained creature of yesterday.

The best Harriet could do from the limited choice of clothes she’d packed was a short ecru denim skirt and jacket and a vest top in a caramel shade that toned well with her hair. And instead of meekly waiting in for whenever James deigned to arrive she went on her usual trip to the shops to buy a paper and her daily pint of milk. She walked back slowly through sunshine that had a heavy, sultry feel to it, and found James, as she’d hoped, waiting on the rustic seat at the end of the garden, formal in a lightweight dark suit. He got up to take her carrier bag, and gave her a look that made all the primping and fussing worthwhile.

‘Good morning, Harriet. You’re obviously going somewhere.’

‘I’m off to Cheltenham later on. I intended to yesterday, but after all the commotion I didn’t feel like it. Do come in.’ Harriet unlocked the door, switched on the kettle and motioned him to a seat at the table. ‘I take it you’d like some coffee?’

‘Thank you. How do you feel this morning? Any ill effects from yesterday’s episode?’

‘No.’ This time she was ultra-careful as she poured boiling water into the cafetière. ‘I’ll leave the coffee to mature a bit,’ she said, putting the tray on the table. ‘But I’ll get to the point right now. I accept your offer for End House. Your moral blackmail worked perfectly.’

The striking eyes narrowed as they met hers. ‘Blackmail?’

She smiled cynically. ‘You know exactly the right buttons to push, James Devereux. You knew I’d cave in once you brought Stacy and the baby into the equation.’

He made no attempt to deny it. ‘But Greg may not accept the job,’ he warned, ‘and even if he does, Stacy may not join forces with him.’

‘But my bank balance will look a lot healthier.’ She looked at him thoughtfully. ‘Why are you so keen to buy End House?’

‘If you sold to someone else it might not be maintained to Edenhurst standards. I approached your grandmother about it some time ago,’ he added, ‘but she told me to wait until the house was yours.’

Harriet nodded sadly. ‘She told me she was leaving it to me, but I couldn’t bear to talk about it. When did she tell you?’

‘I spotted your grandmother leaning against a farm gate at the entrance to Withy Lane one day when I was driving into the village. She accepted a ride with such relief I was worried. She was breathless and very pale, so I insisted on coming in the house with her. I wanted to call a doctor, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She put a pill under her tongue, and after fixing me with those big dark eyes you inherited, she admitted that she had a heart problem, but threatened to come back and haunt me if I told anyone about it.’

Harriet stared at him, arrested. ‘She knew she was ill as long ago as that?’

James nodded. ‘She had such a fright that day she took me into her confidence. I learned that your parents had died too young to make much provision for you, but at least End House and its contents would be yours to dispose of as you wished one day, along with enough funds to keep it going for six months to give you time to decide what to do with it.’

‘So you’ve known all along that the house would come to me,’ said Harriet quietly.

He nodded. ‘I knew the time was up about now, so once Tim told me you were spending the week here to make your decision I arranged the job interviews for the same time.’

‘I see. But if you’re in the middle of interviews how were you able to materialise at just the right moment yesterday?’

‘I was next door, checking on repairs needed to the roof. When I heard shouting and a baby crying, I barged through the hedge to see what was going on.’

‘So that’s why there’s a hole in it. I was going to report on that.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘Don’t you employ people to inspect your property?’

‘Of course I do. And in the others I leave the various estate managers to deal with it. It’s different here on my home territory. I prefer a hands-on approach at Edenhurst.’ James paused. ‘Has Tim ever shown you the apartment I converted from the stable block?’

‘No. On the rare occasions he’s come down here with me he won’t go near the house.’

James gave her a grim smile. ‘If he wouldn’t with you for company, he never will with me. I suppose I should be grateful he likes my flat in London.’

‘So much he could bore for Britain on the subject!’

‘You never come there with him, Harriet, no matter how often I invite you. I suppose I can guess why.’

She flushed. ‘Something else always seems to crop up.’

He smiled sardonically. ‘No need to fudge, Harriet. Tim told me you weren’t comfortable about coming to the ogre’s lair.’

‘He said that?’

‘No, the choice of phrase is mine.’ James gave her a straight look. ‘Now we’ve agreed to a truce, will you come with him next time I ask?’

‘All right.’ Harriet hesitated for a moment. ‘Look, James, if I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth, not just what you think I should know?’

‘If I can,’ he said warily.

‘Tim said you were here in Upcote when my grandmother died.’

‘Yes, I was.’

She looked at him in appeal. ‘I’ve never liked to ask you before, but do you know what actually happened? I was on holiday in Scotland. My flatmate’s parents own a cottage there. When I made it back here the vicar and his wife were very kind, but I had the feeling they were keeping something from me.’

His eyes softened. ‘Then I can set your mind at rest. I was next door with Alec Price, the estate manager, when I saw your grandmother in the garden and went out to talk over the hedge about her problem with moles. She was concerned about a cough I’d developed and told me to go home and take a hot toddy. She breathed in sharply mid-sentence, said she felt dizzy, and quietly fainted. Or so I thought. I vaulted over the hedge in my rush to get to her, and Alec called an ambulance. But when the paramedics arrived they couldn’t revive her. She’d gone.’ James reached for Harriet’s hand, his eyes warm with compassion. ‘She died in exactly the place she’d have chosen,’ he said gently. ‘One minute she was right here in the garden she loved, the next she was with the angels.’

‘Thank you,’ said Harriet gruffly, when she could trust her voice. ‘It’s a relief to know the truth.’

James looked at his watch and dropped her hand. ‘Damn. I’d better run.’

Harriet got up quickly. ‘Hang on a minute. What must I do to get the ball rolling about the sale?’

‘Come up to the house this evening. We can discuss it over dinner.’

She shook her head. ‘No, thanks. Could you just pop back here for a few minutes?’

His eyes frosted. ‘As you wish, Harriet, but it may be late.’

‘Whenever.’

Harriet felt a twinge of remorse after James left. She knew she’d offended him, but sheer vanity had prompted her refusal. For a formal place like the Edenhurst dining room she had nothing suitable to wear. Unless, she thought suddenly, he’d meant supper alone with him in the stable flat.

Harriet caught a bus to Cheltenham for lunch and window-shopping, bought a cuddly lion for Robert and, because her finances would be in good shape once James Devereux paid her for End House, had a look round the sales and bought a dress to put her in the mood for Dido’s party.

Tim rang when she got back.

‘Hi,’ said Harriet. ‘How’s gay Paree?’

‘Fabulous! After I sorted the business part with my artist we visited loads of galleries, including the Louvre, of course, and did tourist things together like the Eiffel Tower, and a boat trip along the Seine, and much wining and dining and so on. Anyway, enough about fascinating moi, how’s life in peaceful Upcote?’

‘Not all that peaceful.’ Harriet related her adventures with baby Robert and his parents, and surprised Tim by her description of James’ way of dealing with the situation.

‘Did he beat the bloke up?’ said Tim, dumbfounded.

‘Of course not. He just took him by the collar and frog-marched him outside.’

‘And how, my angel, did Jed just happen to be on hand to rescue you?’

‘He was next door and heard the noise. The boy was shouting and the baby was crying—’

‘Stop! Go back to London at once. It’s obviously far too dangerous in Upcote. Anyway, I want you waiting with open arms to greet the returning wanderer.’

‘Of course. By the way,’ she added casually, ‘I’ve sold the house. Your brother’s bought it as digs for the Edenhurst bar manager.’

‘Has he really?’ said Tim slowly. ‘At one time you clammed up and went all hoity-toity if I even mentioned big brother’s name, but if you’ve let him have the house you’ve obviously thawed towards him quite a bit.’

‘He thought you’d be pleased.’

‘I am, in a way.’ There was a pause. ‘But for obvious reasons don’t get too chummy with Jed.’

‘Of course I won’t,’ she said scornfully. ‘You have nothing to fear, Timothy Devereux.’

‘Good.’ He sighed. ‘I miss you, Harry.’

‘I miss you, too. Have fun, I’ll see you soon—must go, there’s someone at the door. Bye.’

Her visitors were Stacy and Greg, their faces incandescent with excitement as they gave her their news.

‘We just had to come and tell you, Harriet,’ said Stacy breathlessly.

‘The garage flat goes with the job!’ Greg added. ‘We’re going to live together at last, and be a proper family for Robert.’

Harriet congratulated the jubilant young pair and saw them off, glad that something rather wonderful had come from her decision to sell End House.

It was after nine by the time James arrived, looking a lot more approachable in thin cotton trousers and rolled-up shirtsleeves.

‘Sorry I’m late. I got held up.’ He handed her a chilled bottle. ‘I brought some champagne to celebrate our deal. Or have you changed your mind since I saw you last?’

‘Of course not. Stacy and Greg came round earlier.’ Harriet smiled as she produced glasses. ‘They were so happy, it scotched any doubts I had about parting with End House.’

James chuckled as he eased the cork from the bottle of champagne. ‘I thought young Greg was going to pass out from excitement when I told him a flat went with the job.’

‘You must have felt like God!’

‘Not quite.’ He shot her a look. ‘If I had even a trace of that kind of power I’d have organised some things in my life very differently, my marriage included.’

Harriet pulled a face as she accepted a glass of champagne. ‘The last time that subject was mentioned you changed it pretty sharply.’

‘And spoilt our surprisingly amicable lunch,’ he agreed. ‘But as you know, Harriet, my wife left me for the all-too-common reason that she met someone else.’

‘Tim was delighted about that. He didn’t care for her at all.’

‘Poor Madeleine. She believed that her looks were all she had to offer. When new young faces began to replace hers on magazine covers the punishing diet and constant beauty treatments weren’t enough any more. When she started on cosmetic surgery I blew the whistle, so she left me.’ James drank his champagne down and refilled both glasses.

‘That’s my limit,’ warned Harriet. ‘Any more and I’ll be telling you the story of my life.’

‘That’s only fair in return for mine.’ His lips twitched. ‘Although I know most of yours already.’

Not everything, thought Harriet thankfully. ‘Is Madeleine happy with the new husband?’

‘No idea. After she walked out all communications were made through lawyers.’

‘Talking of lawyers, what happens next about the house?’

James spent a few minutes discussing the opening moves in the transaction, and then asked to see over the house to assess any work needed.

‘I’m not quite sure what I should do about the furniture,’ Harriet told him when they went into the sitting room. ‘I want things like the porcelain for keepsakes, obviously, but I can’t see the furniture fitting in anywhere I’m likely to live.’

‘No,’ James agreed. ‘Tim’s taste runs to the strictly contemporary. I suggest you make a list of the things you really like, and I’ll send the rest to Dysart’s Auction House in Pennington.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said Harriet, wincing when lightning flashed as she went ahead of him up the narrow stairs.

‘I can be kind,’ he said dryly.

‘Greg and Stacy can testify to that.’

‘I meant to you, Harriet.’

She turned away to show him the smaller bedroom, which had been furnished specifically for her when she was thirteen. The only thing missing was the battered teddy bear she’d left behind in London.

‘I decided to sleep in my grandmother’s bed this time in case I never had the chance again,’ Harriet told James as she took him into the main bedroom. ‘The armoire would be a bit overpowering in a flat, but I’ll keep the brass bed and the Georgian chest. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ she added wistfully.

‘This must be very painful for you, Harriet,’ said James with sympathy.

‘A bit, but it has to be done.’ She blinked hard. ‘Sorry. Champagne makes me emotional. And I’m not terribly keen on storms, either.’

Harriet gave a stifled little squeak as thunder cracked overhead, and James took her in his arms. ‘Nothing to be afraid of,’ he said soothingly.

He was wrong. Just to be held close to him like this was terrifying because she liked it so much. Hardly daring to breathe, Harriet stood utterly still as his arms tightened round her. Her palms grew damp and her breath caught in her throat when she looked up to meet shock in James’ eyes. He stared down at her for a breathless interval, as though he’d never seen her before, and Harriet stared back, mesmerised, as he slowly bent his head to kiss her. When their lips met, hers parted in a gasp, his arms tightened, his tongue slid into her mouth and he held her hard against him, kissing her with such sudden, explicit hunger her knees buckled and she collapsed on the bed. James followed her down, his mouth and hands undermining her resistance so completely it took a crack of thunder to bring Harriet down to earth. She gave a smothered choke of disbelief and tore herself from his arms to stand at the far side of the bed, head averted, clutching at the carved brass finial of the bed as she tried to get her breath back.

Eyes tight shut, Harriet willed James to go away, but he moved round the foot of the bed to raise her face to his.

‘Open your eyes! I’m not going to attack you again.’

She raised her lids to half-mast and heaved in a deep breath. ‘It was just a kiss.’

‘It felt like a hell of a lot more than that to me.’ He stared down at her in dazed disbelief.

‘It was just a kiss,’ she insisted.

His eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Like this?’ he said through his teeth, and caught her in his arms again. Harriet struggled for an instant, but he held her still and the fight went out of her, replaced by something that surged through her entire body, and frightened her to death. Pure, unadulterated lust was something new in her life, but in response to James Devereux’s relentless hands and mouth she shook and burned with it, and felt answering heat scorch from his body into hers before he thrust her away with a groan of self-loathing.

‘What the hell am I doing?’

‘Conducting an experiment, maybe?’ Harriet spat at him, shaking her hair back.

The heat faded from his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

She heaved in a deep, unsteady breath. ‘I told you I didn’t sleep around. Maybe you were putting me to the test.’

All expression drained from James Devereux’s face. ‘No,’ he said slowly. ‘Tests imply conscious thought. I just wanted you, Harriet. God help me, I still do.’

She rubbed a hand across her damp forehead, feeling her resentment evaporate at his honesty. ‘Why? We don’t even like each other very much.’

He smiled bleakly. ‘Our hormones obviously don’t believe that.’ The smile vanished suddenly. ‘Will you tell Tim?’

Harriet shuddered. ‘I most certainly will not. Will you?’

‘Hell, no! I was the one spouting fine words about shielding Tim from hurt.’ His mouth twisted. ‘We just forget it ever happened.’

‘Right.’

His eyes held hers. ‘I’m not sure I can do that.’

Harriet wasn’t sure she could, either. ‘It probably wouldn’t have happened normally, but you were talking about Madeleine, and I was tearful about this place, and the storm didn’t help—’

‘None of which is anything to do with it. With you in my arms I forgot everything and everyone, including Tim. Laugh if you like,’ he added savagely.

She shivered. ‘I don’t feel like laughing.’

‘Neither do I. For God’s sake let’s get out of here, away from this bed.’ He held the door open for her and Harriet brushed past, trying not to touch him as she made for the stairs.

In the kitchen, with the table between them and the storm retreating now in the distance, she felt marginally calmer as she faced the tall, haggard man who had just turned her life upside down.

‘I’ll ring my grandmother’s solicitor tomorrow.’

James nodded brusquely. ‘If you’ll give me the number I’ll pass it on to my lawyer.’

‘And until the sale is official I’ll keep paying Stacy to clean the house,’ said Harriet, determinedly matter-of-fact.

James shook his head. ‘I’ll see to that. She can carry on working here after the house changes hands. I’ll talk to the Edenhurst housekeeper, too. There may be something Stacy can do up at the hotel on a regular basis.’

‘Thank you. That would be a great help for her.’

Rain hammered against the window, and thunder cracked and rolled, but neither of them noticed the elements as silence fell that neither of them was willing to break. Harriet waited, nerves jumping, half wanting James to go and half wanting, quite desperately, for him to stay.

At last he gave her a look that turned her heart over. ‘Tell me the truth, Harriet. If you and I were unconnected in any way, would you have let me stay tonight?’

‘I would have wanted to,’ she said honestly.

His eyes lit with triumph for an instant before the shutters came down. ‘But because of Tim it will never happen.’