Читать книгу Second Chance With Lord Branscombe - Joanna Neil - Страница 11

CHAPTER ONE

‘IT’S BEAUTIFUL OUT HERE, isn’t it?’ Jake smiled as he looked out over the sea and watched the waves rolling on to the shore. ‘I never get tired of looking at that glorious view. I’m just glad I get the chance to come and sit here after work sometimes.’

‘Me too.’ Sophie returned the smile and then concentrated on carefully spooning golden sugar crystals into her coffee. It gave her a bit of time to think. She ought to be content, no doubt about it, but she couldn’t get rid of this nagging feeling that before too long everything in her world was going to be turned upside down.

On the surface everything was running smoothly. What could be better than to be here on a late Friday afternoon, taking in the fresh sea air with Jake, on the terrace of this restaurant in the delightful little fishing village they called home? On the North Devon coast, a small inlet in a wide bay, it was an idyllic place to live.

A faint warm breeze was blowing in off the blue water, riffling gently through her long honey-blonde curls and lightly fanning her cheeks. From here she could see the rocky crags that enclosed the peaceful cove and she could hear the happy shouts of children playing on the beach below, dipping their nets into rock pools that had been left behind by the outgoing tide. She had every reason to be happy.

The truth was, though, that she’d been on edge this last couple of weeks...and there could be only one reason for that. Ever since Nate Branscombe had returned to the Manor House her emotions had been on a roller-coaster ride. Maybe she should have expected him to come back once he’d heard about his father’s health taking a downward turn. Deep down, she’d known all along he would have to visit his father, Lord Branscombe, sooner or later, but when she’d heard he’d actually turned up she’d been swamped by a feeling akin to panic. She’d gone out of her way since then to avoid running into him.

‘This is the perfect place to relax,’ Jake said, oblivious to her subdued mood. He sipped his coffee and then glanced at his watch. ‘I can’t stay for too much longer, though...much as I’d like to—I have a meeting to go to.’

‘Ah—the joys of working in hospital management!’ She glanced at him, her mouth crinkling at the corners. It was what he was born to do, streamlining what went on in various departments of the local hospital.

Jake Holdsworth was a clever, likeable young man, good-looking, with neat dark hair and compassionate brown eyes. He was a couple of years older than her at twenty-eight, but they’d known each other for several years since he used to regularly come to the village to visit a favourite aunt. They’d become firm friends. Eventually, though, they’d gone their separate ways when they each left home to take up places at university—she went to Medical School and Jake went off to study Hospital and Health Services Management. It was one of her proudest moments when she was at last able to call herself Dr Trent.

‘Oh, yes! Budget meetings, purchasing committees, dealing with the complaints of clinicians! It’s all go!’

‘But you love it.’ Their lives had been busy, as each of them worked towards building their careers, and it was only lately they’d met up again. Jake had a keen sense of humour and she liked spending time with him. He always managed to put her at ease, to help her set aside her troubled family situation for a while, to make her forget that life could be a struggle sometimes. He was a restful kind of man and she enjoyed talking to him.

He was nothing at all like Nate Branscombe—the very opposite, in fact. She frowned. Somehow, Nate had the knack of stirring up strong passions in her—for good or bad—but, either way, they were feelings she would far sooner forget. More often than not, he left her in turmoil.

Nate had the kind of bone-melting good looks that sent her heart into overdrive the moment she saw him. Women couldn’t get enough of him but, as far as he was concerned, it was all easy come, easy go. His girlfriends each thought they would be the one to change him, but she could have told them they were wasting their time. He would never make that final commitment.

Maybe that was why Sophie had always held back from him. He wanted her, there had been no doubt about it, and she’d been so...so...tempted, but she wasn’t going to fall for him, like all the others, and end up being hurt. Nate liked women, enjoyed being with them, having fun, getting the most out of life, but she wondered if he’d ever meet the woman who was right for him. Or maybe Nate was aware that the women he’d dated simply didn’t make the grade to be the wife of a future lord.

‘Are you okay? You’re a bit quiet today.’ Jake studied her thoughtfully. ‘Have you had a tough day at the hospital?’

‘Oh—I’m sorry. I was miles away.’ Jerked out of her reverie, Sophie made an effort to pull herself together. ‘No, it was fine.’

‘Is it some problem closer to home, then? Are you worried about your family?’ Jake gave her a wry, coaxing smile before finishing off his coffee and resting his hands on the table, his fingers loosely clasped.

She shrugged her shoulders. ‘The usual, I suppose. According to my brother, Rob, my mother’s acting weird again, and Jessica’s a bit upset because Ryan has to go away to work.’

He gave a sympathetic nod. ‘It’s not the best timing, is it? How far advanced is her pregnancy?’ He hazarded a guess. ‘Third trimester?’

She nodded, smiling. ‘Thirty-seven weeks or thereabouts. The baby could decide to put in an appearance any time now.’

His mouth made a flat line. ‘Not a great time for her to be on her own, then?’

‘No.’ Sophie frowned. ‘Mum and my stepdad are fairly close by for her, though.’

She glanced around as she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. ‘Your table’s over here, sir,’ the waitress was saying, showing Lord Branscombe to a table set in a quiet corner by the wrought-iron balustrade. As he followed her, Lord Branscombe was walking slowly, each step measured and cautious. He straightened, looking towards the table. A bright spray of scarlet surfinia spilled over from a tall cream-coloured planter nearby and beyond the rail there was a mass of green shrubbery, providing a modicum of privacy from some of the other diners.

James Branscombe acknowledged the waitress briefly, but came to a halt halfway across the terrace. He seemed to be struggling for breath, a hand clutched to his chest, and the waitress watched him worriedly.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t think— The steps up to the terrace are quite steep... Perhaps I should have taken it more slowly...’

‘Please, don’t fuss,’ he said in a gruff voice. ‘Just bring me a whisky, will you?’

‘Of course. Right away.’ His command had been peremptory but, even so, the girl escorted Lord Branscombe to his table and made sure he was seated before she hurried away to get his drink.

Around them, Sophie noticed the hubbub of conversation had died down. People cast surreptitious glances towards the occupant of the table in the corner and then began to speak in hushed voices. Lord Branscombe, for his part, ignored them all, lost in a world of his own. In his early sixties, he looked older, his hair greying, his face taut and a deep furrow etched into his brow.

‘Perhaps he shouldn’t be out and about,’ Jake murmured, echoing what everyone must surely be thinking. ‘He doesn’t look well.’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ Sophie said, a touch of bitterness threading her words. ‘But when did that ever stop him?’

‘True.’ He sent her a quick worried look. ‘I’m sorry. Of course, you know that to your cost.’

‘It’s probably the reason Nate’s back at the Manor House,’ she said, ignoring his last statement. She wished she’d never said anything. After all, what was the point in raking up past history? ‘He’ll be worried about his father.’

‘Hmm...about the estate too, I imagine.’ Jake frowned. ‘You must have heard the rumours going around?’

‘About Lord Branscombe’s business venture overseas?’

He nodded.

‘Yes, I’ve heard them.’ She winced. ‘According to what I’ve read in the national papers, he’s lost an awful lot of money.’

‘Nate won’t like that—the fact that the press have got hold of the story, I mean.’

‘No, he won’t.’ Nate already hated the press after the coverage his father had received a couple of years ago when he was taken ill at the controls of a light aircraft. This new story would have stirred his dislike of them all over again. ‘What makes it worse is that he didn’t want his father to have anything to do with the so-called development out there in the first place, but Lord Branscombe wouldn’t listen.’

‘Oh?’ Jake raised a brow. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I heard Nate and his father having a heated discussion one day when I was out walking the dog. Lord Branscombe wouldn’t listen to reason...but then, he never has.’ And it was James Branscombe’s refusal to take heed of what people said that had left her father in the state he was now. Her lower lip began to quiver slightly and she caught it between her teeth to still the movement.

Jake laid his hand over hers, clasping her fingers in a comforting gesture. ‘This must be really difficult for you, after what happened to your father.’

‘It is.’ She closed her eyes fleetingly. Her father had been a passenger in the single-engine plane that crashed nearly two years ago. James Branscombe had taken the controls against all advice and that decision had left her father with life-changing injuries. He’d suffered a broken back, shoulder and ankle, whereas Lord Branscombe had come out of it relatively unscathed.

Even now she had trouble coming to terms with what had happened.

Jake was concerned. ‘You must be upset at the thought of Nate coming back. You and he had something going for a while, didn’t you? Until the accident put an end to it.’

‘Maybe I had feelings for him, years ago, when I was a teenager, and then later it all came to the fore again just before my father’s accident...but we wouldn’t have made it work. I realise that, now. We were both studying in different parts of the country for a long while, so I didn’t see him very often...and, anyway, Nate could never commit to a relationship. Things went badly wrong for us after what happened to my father. I think Nate only stayed around long enough to make sure his father was okay. He’s been back a few times since then, but I’ve kept out of his way.’ She braced her shoulders. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?’

Right now she couldn’t cope with having it all dredged up again. She steeled herself to put on an appearance of calm and she and Jake talked quietly for a while.

A few minutes later, though, her outward composure was all but shattered once more. She looked up and saw a man striding confidently across the terrace, heading towards the corner table.

‘Nate?’ The word crossed her lips in a whisper of disbelief and Jake gently squeezed her hand in support. It was a shock, seeing Nate standing just a short distance away from her. When she’d seen him, soon after the crash, she’d been upset, out of her mind with worry, and they’d argued furiously over his father’s actions. But when he went away, in her mind, in her soul, she’d still yearned for him.

Nate hadn’t seen her yet as he stopped briefly to speak to one or two people along the way. Her mind skittered this way and that, trying to find some means of escape, but of course it was hopeless from the start.

He saw her and his eyes widened in recognition. For a moment or two he seemed stunned. Then he started towards her, a long, lean figure of a man, his stride rangy and confident, the muscles in his arms hinting at a body that was perfectly honed beneath the designer T-shirt and casual trousers he was wearing.

The breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t think straight any more. All she could do was drink in his image—the broad shoulders, the sculpted cheekbones and the black, slightly overlong, unruly hair that kinked in a roguish kind of way.

‘Sophie.’ His voice was deep and warm, a hint of satisfaction there, as though he was more than pleased to see her. He stopped by her table and looked at her, his brooding green gaze all-encompassing, tracing the slope of her cheekbones and the soft curve of her mouth and lingering on the golden corkscrew curls that tumbled over her shoulders. ‘It’s good to see you again. You look wonderful.’

Unsettled by that penetrating scrutiny, she lowered her gaze. She didn’t know how to react to him after all this time. She was distracted by a whole host of unfamiliar feelings that were coursing through her.

His glance trailed downwards, taking in the way Jake’s hand covered hers. Then he lifted his head, making a faint, almost imperceptible nod. ‘Jake.’ He gave him a narrowed look and Jake must have begun to feel uncomfortable because he straightened, slowly releasing Sophie’s hand.

‘Hi there, Nate. We haven’t seen you in a while,’ he said.

‘I’ve been busy, working away for the last few months.’ Nate’s gaze swept over Sophie once more, meshing with hers in a simmering, wordless exchange.

Images flashed through her mind, visions of times past when they’d walked together through the woods on the estate, when her feelings for him were growing with each day that passed. Nate had held her hand, that last day before she went away to Medical School, and led her into a sunlit copse. She’d been eighteen then, troubled about going away and perhaps not seeing him again. She recalled how the silver birch trees had lifted their branches to the clear blue sky and he’d gently eased her back against the smooth white bark. He’d lowered his head towards her and his kiss had been warm and tender, as soft as the breeze on a hot summer’s day.

Even now, thinking about it, she could feel his body next to hers, remember how it had been to be wrapped in his arms, to have her flesh turn to flame as his lips nuzzled the curve of her neck.

Jake’s voice broke the spell. ‘I’d heard something about you being in the States for a while,’ he said. ‘You’ve been doing well for yourself, or so they say.’

‘I guess so.’ Nate turned his attention to Sophie once more. ‘I was hoping we might run into one another.’

‘I suppose it was inevitable.’ Sophie pulled in a deep breath to steady herself. ‘You’re back here for your father, I imagine?’ She looked up at Nate, amazed to find that her voice worked, with barely a trace of nervousness showing through.

‘I am. He’s not been doing so well these last few weeks, though he would never admit it.’ He frowned, glancing to where his father was sitting alone at the table. ‘I should go and join him.’ There was a hint of reluctance about his mouth as he spoke. ‘But I’d like to see you again, find out how you’ve been doing. I’ve tried to keep up with how things were going for you and your father, through Charlotte, mostly.’ He looked at her intently. ‘Perhaps we could talk later?’

She gave a non-committal movement of her head. Charlotte was the housekeeper at the Manor House and she might have expected her to let Nate know what was happening in the village. As to talking with him, surely it would be best, from her viewpoint, to steer very clear of both Branscombes, but especially Nate? Already she was conscious of a knot forming in her stomach and a fluttery feeling growing in her chest. In every way he was dangerous to her peace of mind. Her alarm system was on full alert.

Nate must have taken her gesture for agreement. He nodded once more to both of them and then left, walking over to the table at the corner of the terrace. As Nate went to sit opposite his father, Sophie saw that another man had come to join them—a man she recognised as Lord Branscombe’s Estate Manager...his most recent Estate Manager. Her father had done the job for a good many years before him. She sucked in a sharp breath.

Jake’s gaze followed them. ‘I wonder what will happen to the estate if Lord Branscombe really has lost most of his money overseas. That’s what the newspaper articles are saying...that he’s gambled his son and heir’s inheritance on a doomed investment and lost.’

‘I think there’s a lot more to worry about than Nate’s inheritance. There are more than two dozen houses on the estate with tenants who will be worried about what’s going to happen to their homes.’

Jake’s expression was sombre. ‘And your father’s one of them. It’s understandable if you, of all people, feel angry about the way Lord Branscombe’s behaved.’

‘Maybe.’ She frowned. ‘But, like I said, I think I’d prefer not to talk about that right now.’

‘Of course. But at least it sounds as though Lord Branscombe’s finally getting his comeuppance.’

She didn’t answer. The waitress came and refilled Sophie’s coffee cup, glancing surreptitiously over to where Nate was sitting. Absently, she went to pour a refill for Jake.

‘None for me, thanks,’ he said, covering his cup with his hand.

‘Oh, okay.’ Still casting quick looks in Nate’s direction, the girl slowly walked away.

Jake made a wry smile. ‘He’s lost none of his charm, has he?’ he murmured, glancing at Sophie. ‘He still has that charisma that had all the girls hankering after him.’ There was a hint of envy in his voice.

‘Mm hmm.’ She was hardly immune to it herself—no matter how much she’d told herself in the intervening years that Nate didn’t have any power over her feelings, it had taken only a few seconds in his company for him to prove her profoundly wrong. ‘I suppose so.’

They chatted for a while, about Jake’s work and her job as a children’s doctor, until, reluctantly, he glanced once more at his watch. ‘I should go,’ he said. ‘Do you want me to see you back to your car?’

She shook her head. ‘No, that’s all right. I still have to finish off this coffee. You go ahead. I’ll leave in a minute or so.’

‘Okay.’ He stood up, leaning over to give her a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek. ‘I’ll see to the bill on my way out.’

‘Thanks.’ Sophie watched him leave and then slowly sipped her coffee. It was hot, a new brew fresh from the pot, so she had to take her time. Lord Branscombe, she noticed, glancing idly towards his table, was picking at a plate of food with hardly any appetite, while his Estate Manager was tucking in to a steak and all the trimmings. Nate wasn’t eating. The three men seemed to be having an avid discussion about something—the way forward, she supposed.

A short time later she pushed her cup away and picked up her handbag, getting ready to leave.

‘You’re going already?’ Nate must have been watching her because he suddenly appeared at her side, his hand coming to support her elbow as she stood up. ‘I didn’t want you to leave without my having the chance to talk to you again. Perhaps I could walk with you?’

‘I... Yes... I mean...’ She was flustered, startled by the way he’d homed in on her, and she stayed silent as he accompanied her down the stairs. By the time they reached the lounge area of the restaurant, though, she had managed to recover her equilibrium enough to say, ‘Won’t your father be expecting you to keep him company?’

‘I’m sure he’ll be fine without me for a while. Besides, I’ve said all I need to say to him for now. He knows my opinion. I’ve no doubt he and Maurice will be battling things out for another hour or so yet.’

They walked out of the white-painted building and stood by the railings on the cliff path, looking out over the rugged crags to the beach below. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to see you with Jake,’ Nate said. ‘You were always good friends...but I saw that he kissed you. Are you and he a couple now?’ He was studying her intently. ‘Are things serious between you?’

She blinked at the suddenness of the question. She’d forgotten how direct he could be. ‘Oh, we met up again fairly recently,’ she answered cautiously. ‘I think he’s fond of me but, really, we’re just friends.’ She suspected Jake would like to take things further, but after a couple of ill-fated relationships over the last few years, she wasn’t about to step into another one in a hurry. Perhaps she was the problem. She’d seen what had happened with her parents’ marriage and she wasn’t ready to put her trust in anyone any time soon.

‘I see.’ He studied her closely as though gauging her response. He didn’t seem to believe the ‘just friends’ scenario. ‘I’ve always cared for you, Sophie. You know that, don’t you? It was hard for me to see you hurting so much after what happened to your father. I felt perhaps you blamed me in some way—perhaps you thought I should have tried to stop my father from flying—’

‘You must have known he had angina.’ She stared at him, and the pain must have been clear in her eyes. ‘Surely there was something you could have done?’

His gaze travelled over her, searing her with its intensity. ‘You know what he’s like. He never admits to weakness. And I was working at a hospital in Cornwall at the time.’ His mouth flattened. ‘Sophie, I never wanted there to be this rift between us. You didn’t seem to want me around but I always hoped—’

She stopped him before he could say any more. ‘No—let’s not go there,’ she said quickly, anxious to ward off complications. He’d gone away to work abroad, leaving her to pick up the pieces. Perhaps, like he’d said, it was hard for him to see her pain, to witness the heartache his father had caused. ‘A lot’s happened in the last few years. I’m sure we’re very different people now—leastways, I know I am. These past two years have changed me.’ She braced her shoulders. ‘So what’s happening with you? Is there someone in your life these days?’

He pulled a face and shrugged. ‘You know me,’ he said. ‘Can’t settle—too much going on all the while.’

‘Hmm. And it’s going to take time, isn’t it, to find the right woman...the one with the class and breeding to take her place at Branscombe Manor?’ She said it with a smile, with the wry knowledge that he would most likely exhaust all possibilities before making his pick.

‘Oh, you know me so well, don’t you?’ he said with a short laugh, reading her mind. ‘Or at least you always thought you did.’ He sobered, studying her thoughtfully.

‘Oh, cryptic now, are we?’ She let that one pass and asked seriously, ‘So...have you come back to sort out the estate?’

He raised a dark brow. ‘Can you imagine my father letting me do that? He’s never listened to any ideas that don’t go along with his way of thinking, from me or anyone. That’s why we argued and it’s another reason why I left. He’s always been a stubborn man, determined to do things his own way.’

‘Yes, but you can be a bit like that sometimes,’ she said, challenging him. ‘Isn’t there a bit of like father, like son? After all, you decided on medicine as a career and went your own way, even though you knew your father was set against it.’

‘True,’ he conceded, ‘but I felt very strongly about becoming a doctor. I’m lucky, far more fortunate than a lot of people—I was able to dip into my trust-fund money to get me through university because he wouldn’t support me in my choice. He wanted me to go in a completely different direction and learn everything there was about Estate Management so that I could take over one day, but I couldn’t do what he asked. We settled the argument eventually, but it was always a sore point with him.’

‘Some people around here think you don’t care about the estate, or the village.’

‘Is that what you believe?’ He shot her a lancing green stare.

‘I think I know you better than that...but I’d like to hear your side of things.’

He made a grimace. ‘It’s not true that I don’t care. Of course I care. It’s my heritage. The Manor has been in our family for generations and I want to keep it that way. I would have been fine with taking on the estate when the time came. I would have done whatever was needed, with the help of managers and estate workers, but my father wouldn’t tolerate any of my ideas. Whenever I suggested changes that I felt would be for the better, he said things were all right as they were. He made things impossible for me. I wasn’t prepared to be just a figurehead, keeping things ticking along in the same old way.’

She nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. Her father had often hinted at how difficult it was to work with Lord Branscombe. ‘How are you getting along with him now that you’re back?’

He shrugged. ‘We still don’t see eye to eye, but we get on fine. When I heard that his angina was worsening I had to come back, to make sure he’s all right. I didn’t see that I had any choice. My father can be difficult, but he’s all I have and I’m his only son, so, despite our differences, we have a strong bond. We’ve come through a lot together over the years and we’ve learned to understand one another.’

‘And how is he, really? He hasn’t been looking too good lately.’

‘Do you care?’ His gaze narrowed on her, a muscle in his jaw flexing. ‘After what happened to your father, do you actually care what happens to him?’

She winced as his shot struck home. ‘If I’m honest, I’d like to be able to say...no, I don’t care...but I’m a human being and I’m a doctor, so it’s probably inbuilt in me to show concern for anyone who’s suffering. I still blame him for what happened to my father, but I can’t do anything to change the past, can I? Somehow, I have to try to accept it and move on.’

He sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I’d give anything for it not to have happened.’ He reached for her, his hand lightly smoothing over the bare skin of her arm. His touch disarmed her, sending a trail of fire to course through her body and undermine all her carefully shored-up defences. Against all common sense she found herself desperately wanting more.

She couldn’t think clearly while he was touching her, holding her this way. She looked at him, absorbing his strong features, the proud way he tilted his head, and wished more than ever that things could be different between them. But it could never be. Not when his father was responsible for the accident that caused her father’s terrible injuries.

‘I know you’re sorry...but it’s too late for regrets now, isn’t it? If you’d known about his angina earlier, you might have stopped him from taking off that day. But you didn’t.’ The words came out on a breathless whisper as she gently eased herself away from him. A look of anguish briefly crossed his face and she said quietly, ‘I suppose Charlotte has been making sure you knew how your father was getting along?’

‘Yes—if it had been left to him I would never have known how serious his condition had turned out to be. He’s far too stubborn for that. But Charlotte has been keeping me up to date, especially after the newspaper stories came out about the investments failing and he took a turn for the worse. We all thought his angina was under control, but his condition has deteriorated and it’s become unstable of late.’

She nodded. ‘Charlotte’s always been more than just a housekeeper to you, hasn’t she—from when you were little?’

He smiled. ‘That’s right. She’s looked out for me ever since I was nine years old—from when my mother died. She was always there for me when I needed her. She always seemed to know what was going on in my head, the things that frustrated me or made me happy. Truthfully, she’s been like a second mother to me. I’ll always want to keep her close.’

She smiled. ‘I know. I’ve always liked Charlotte.’ She gazed up at him. From a very young age he’d had a number of pseudo-stepmothers foisted on him as his father brought home a succession of girlfriends, but Charlotte had stayed through it all, his salvation, the one fixed point in his young life that never wavered.

It had been hard for him back then. Going round and about the village with him and their friends as they grew up, Sophie had seen the effect the loss of his mother had on him. Perhaps seeing his vulnerability was what had drawn her to him in the first place. His father hadn’t known how to deal with such a young, bewildered and frustrated boy and simply lost himself in keeping up with his contacts in the business world, in the City. Gradually, Nate had built a shell around himself. No one was going to penetrate his armour...no one except Sophie. Her parents had been going through a difficult time in their marriage and she and Nate had been like kindred souls.

Nate shot her a quick glance. ‘She told me she hasn’t seen your father in a while. Usually she sees him around the village, at the post office or the grocery store at least once a week, but lately she’s missed him.’ His voice deepened with concern. ‘How is he? Is he still able to get about in the wheelchair?’

‘Yes—he’s not been out and about lately because he’s getting over a nasty chest infection but he manages very well, all things considered.’

‘I heard he was having specialist treatment?’

‘Yes, that’s right. He was in hospital for a long time, as you know, and we were afraid he might never walk again—but thankfully he’s making progress. His spinal cord wasn’t cut right through, but it has taken a long time to heal, along with the broken bones—he still has physiotherapy several times a week. It’s a struggle for him, but he’s not one to give up. He generally tries to take things one day at a time. We’re hoping that he’ll be able to walk with a frame before too long.’

‘I’m so sorry, Sophie. If there’s anything I can do—’ He tried to reach for her but she took a step backwards. It was far too unsettling to have him touch her. Frowning, he let his arms fall to his sides.

‘It’s all right; I know you would do anything you can to help.’

‘My father said he tried to make amends but your father won’t talk to him—all their communication is being carried out through lawyers.’

‘That’s right.’ She shot him a quick glance. ‘Do you blame him?’

‘I suppose not...but nothing’s ever going to be achieved by not talking to one another.’

Her back stiffened. ‘The accident changed everything. He should never have gone up in that plane with your father—Lord Branscombe seemed unwell from the first but he insisted he was perfectly fit and able to fly. We’d no idea he was suffering from a heart condition. He should have been stopped. It wasn’t even as though the journey was important. He just wanted to check out the site of a new golf course he was planning.’ She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture. ‘It was totally Lord Branscombe’s fault, but afterwards he replaced my father as Estate Manager and didn’t even offer him a desk job overseeing things.’

Nate frowned. ‘My father said he and the lawyers were talking about compensation.’

She gave a short humourless laugh. ‘Compensation? What compensation? Your father had been having angina attacks for some time without telling the authorities. He knew it would affect his pilot licence if he said anything—and when the insurance company found out about that they wouldn’t pay out. My father lost everything—his job, his house. He had to sell up and go into rented property.’

‘I know—he’s in one of the houses on the estate.’ Nate’s eyes darkened. ‘It was me who made sure he had somewhere to go... As for the rest, my father said everything was being dealt with. I’m sorry if that wasn’t the case... I’ve been working away quite a bit in the States, so I couldn’t oversee things for myself. I wanted to, but...you didn’t seem to want me around and then this job came up... I thought, perhaps, you would find it easier if I wasn’t around...’

She turned her back to the sea and leaned against the railing, facing him. She wouldn’t be drawn into that conversation again, not now. It was too difficult. ‘Will you be going back there?’

‘No, this last stint was just a six-months contract in the paediatric intensive care unit in Boston. I have a job lined up here in Devon, so I’ll be able to keep an eye on things from now on. It’s what I’ve been working towards. This business with my father just moved things forward a bit.’ His gaze moved over her, gliding over her slender curves, outlined by the simple sheath dress she was wearing. ‘Better still,’ he said in a roughened voice, ‘it means I’ll be able to see more of you. Perhaps you and I could start over...?’

Her heartbeat quickened and her cheeks flushed with heat. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ she countered in a low voice, her throat suddenly constricted. If Nate thought he could erase the last two years and swoop back into her life, he had another think coming.

‘Are you sure about that?’ He was looking at her in that devilish way that had her nervous system on red alert and he was moving closer, the glint in his green eyes full of promise...

It was a promise that never came to fruition. Shouts came from above them, shocking her system and acting like a dash of cold water to propel them away from one another.

‘Help, someone...come quickly—we need help here! Is Nate Branscombe still around? Is that his car in the car park?’

Startled, Sophie looked up to where the sound came from, up on the restaurant’s terrace. She saw people getting to their feet, rushing towards the corner table, barely visible from this angle.

A man came to lean over the balustrade, looking down at them, waving his arms urgently. ‘Nate, will you come up? It’s your father. He’s collapsed.’

‘Call for an ambulance,’ Nate shouted back. He was already taking the steps, racing to get to his father, but instead of following him Sophie hurried towards the car park. Her medical bag was in the boot of her car. Her instincts told her they might need it.

When she reached the corner table a few minutes later, she could see that James Branscombe was sitting propped up against the balustrade. His skin looked clammy, ashen as he groaned in pain. Sophie guessed he was having a bad angina attack, which meant his heart wasn’t receiving enough oxygen and had to work harder to get what it needed.

Nate had loosened his father’s shirt collar and was kneeling by him, talking to him quietly and trying to reassure him. ‘Is your nitro spray in your pocket?’ he asked, but James Branscombe was barely able to speak. Nate searched through his pockets until he found what he was looking for and then quickly sprayed the liquid under his father’s tongue. The medication would dilate the blood vessels, allowing blood to flow more easily and thereby lessening the heart’s workload.

Nate glanced at Sophie as she came to kneel down beside him. His expression was grim; his fear for his father was etched on his face. He seemed relieved to see that Sophie was by his side, though. ‘You have your medical bag?’ he said. ‘That’s good. Do you have aspirin in there?’

‘I do—they’re chewable ones, or he can dissolve them on his tongue.’ She opened the case and handed him the tablets. They would thin the blood and hopefully would prevent blood clots from closing up the arteries.

After a few minutes, though, it was clear that Lord Branscombe was still in a lot of pain. His features were grey, his lips taking on a bluish colour, and beads of cold sweat had broken out on his brow. Sophie guessed this was more than a bad angina attack. She was worried for Nate; this must be something he’d dreaded, the real reason he’d come home.

‘Morphine?’ Nate asked, and she nodded.

‘Yes, I have it. I’ll prepare a syringe.’

‘Thanks.’ He administered the pain medication and soon afterwards wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his father’s arm. ‘He’s becoming hypotensive,’ he said, frowning. ‘I’ll put in an intravenous line—as soon as the paramedics get here we can put him on a saline drip to stabilise his blood pressure.’

They didn’t have to wait too long. The ambulance arrived shortly, siren blaring, and the two paramedics hurried on to the terrace. They nodded to Sophie, recognising her from her work at the hospital.

Nate swiftly introduced himself and said, ‘I think my father’s having a heart attack. We need to get an ECG reading and send it to the Emergency department.’

‘Okay. We’ll make sure they’re kept informed.’

‘Thank you.’

One of the paramedics set up the portable ECG machine, whilst the other man began to give the patient oxygen through a mask. Nate helped them to lift his father on to a stretcher, and then together they carried him down to the waiting ambulance.

‘His blood pressure’s dropping.’ The paramedic sounded the alarm and Nate reacted swiftly, setting up a saline drip and giving his father drugs to support his heart’s action. Sophie stood by as the three men worked on Lord Branscombe.

‘He’s gone into V-fib. Stand clear.’ Nate called out a warning as his father’s heart rhythm went awry and the defibrillator readied itself to give a shock to the heart. He checked his father’s vital signs. ‘And again, stand clear.’

Her heart went out to him as he exhausted every effort to save his father’s life. She saw the worry etched on his face and suddenly wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but of course she couldn’t do anything of the sort.

‘All right,’ he said eventually. ‘He’s stable for now. I’ll go with him to the hospital.’

The paramedic nodded. ‘Okay, we’re ready to go. The emergency team’s alerted and waiting for him.’

‘That’s good.’ Nate turned to Sophie, who was waiting by the ambulance doors. ‘I want to thank you for all your help,’ he said softly. He reached out and gently cupped her arms with his long fingers. ‘I owe you. I’ll make it up to you, Sophie, I promise.’

She shook her head, making her soft curls quiver and dance. ‘There’s no need for you to do that. I was glad to help.’ No matter what bad feelings she might harbour about James Branscombe, she couldn’t have stood by and done nothing to save him. Working alongside Nate, though, had been another matter entirely. She hadn’t been prepared for that and the effect it had on her at all.

The paramedic closed the doors of the ambulance and climbed into the driver’s seat. Sophie stood by the roadside and watched the vehicle pull away and it was as though the world was sliding from under her feet. She reached out to rest a hand on a nearby drystone wall.

Nate had been back for only five minutes and already she felt as though she’d been hit by an electric storm. How on earth was she going to cope, knowing he meant to stay around and once more make his home at Branscombe Manor?