Читать книгу The British Bachelors Collection - Сара Крейвен, Kate Hardy - Страница 59
ОглавлениеA WARM FIRE was indeed blazing invitingly in the marble fireplace as they entered the family drawing room. It was a strange feeling, coming back to the room Hal had sat in so many times over the years with his father and sister...almost a surreal sensation—as if the past was nothing but a dream he’d conjured up. It was literally years since the three of them had spent any proper time together, and it was growing more and more unlikely that they ever would. The loving, caring family unit that he’d longed for them to become after his mother had left had never really become a reality.
Not liking the sombre direction his thoughts were taking him in—especially when he’d resolved to heal the rift with his father—Hal made his way across the expansive stone floor, liberally covered with hand-crafted Persian rugs, and carefully lowered himself onto one of the leather couches. Kit stayed close by him to help. As he sat she took his crutches away and laid them down on the floor, where he could easily reach them. Then, with a self-conscious smile she moved away.
It wasn’t the reaction he’d anticipated. Whether she acknowledged it or not, there was a definite bond between them now, and in his mind their lovemaking last night had sealed that bond. He was no longer just a client she was working for, and she was no longer simply his hired help. With every fibre of Hal’s being he ached for more intimate contact—or at least for them to be easy enough with each other that they would automatically sit together. With that in mind, he gestured for her to come back and join him. It was akin to receiving a blow when he saw that her pretty blue eyes were reticent.
‘I’d better not. Your father might think it’s not very professional of me to sit next to you. He might think that I—that we—’ She was unable to finish the sentence and her cheeks coloured helplessly. As if desperately needing a distraction, she glanced round for a suitable place to sit. Selecting one of the armchairs positioned opposite Hal, she finally made herself comfortable.
‘That we are up to no good?’ he finished for her, his lips twisting wryly. ‘I hate that expression. Even if he doesn’t approve, do you think that’s going to stop me from wanting you or showing him that I want you?’
Exasperation was close to getting the better of Hal, because the need to hold Kit close had been mercilessly taunting him all day. In contrast, she had been unbelievably composed and pragmatic. How on earth was he going to convince her that he was in earnest about how he felt? That he didn’t just want a meaningless fling but something far more serious?
The depth and breadth of his intentions took him aback. Shaken, he shrugged off his jacket and dropped it onto the cushion beside him.
‘I told you that I can’t do this...that I—’ She stopped.
‘Need to be sensible?’
‘I know that you don’t want to hear that, but—’
‘My housekeeper, Mary, is going to bring us in some refreshments, and after that she’s going to go and get your rooms ready. I presume you and Miss Blessington are staying the night, Hal?’
His father’s timing couldn’t have been worse, Hal thought irritably. Yes, he wanted them to build bridges with him—that was why he was here—but equally he wanted to put things right between him and Kit—to get her to see that he wasn’t the spoilt playboy used to getting his own way that she might secretly fear he was...not a man who wouldn’t hesitate to use her and then cast her aside just as her mother’s ex-boyfriends had done to her. But it looked as if that particular conversation would have to wait until later, when they could be alone.
‘Yes, we are. I’d rather not ask Kit to drive us back to town tonight. And, by the way, I’m going to need a downstairs room—and so is Kit, in case I need her.’
‘That won’t be a problem. That’s settled, then. So, how have things been since the accident?’ his father asked, taking a seat in the high-backed armchair next to Kit.
The question was posed in the familiar non-committal and unemotional tone that Hal knew only too well. It was clearly too much to expect him to ask how he was feeling. Probably the only reason he’d referred to his son’s injury was so that he could once again tell him how reckless he’d been, proving his opinion that pride came before a fall to be unerringly right.
Unable to help himself, Hal immediately made it his mission to disappoint him. ‘Things are good—much better than I expected, given the debilitating nature of my injury.’ Glancing over at Kit, he was surprised to see that her hands were folded almost demurely in her lap and her eyes were downcast, as if she didn’t want to draw particular attention to herself...as if she believed she should be as unobtrusive as possible. Was it because coming face to face with the imposing grandeur of his home and meeting his father had overwhelmed her? Perhaps it had even made her nurse a feeling of inferiority? The mere thought that she might be entertaining such a self-deprecating idea made him see red. Apart from his sister, Hal didn’t know one other woman who could match her for sheer class...
‘In fact I went for a run in the park this morning. Didn’t I, Kit?’
‘This is a serious matter. I don’t think it’s something you should be joking about, Henry.’
The disapproving glance crossing his father’s features, plus the more formal use of his name, made Hal bristle. ‘Isn’t it? If we can’t laugh at the vicissitudes of life sometimes then we’ll all be permanently addicted to tranquillisers merely to help us survive. Personally, I’d rather feel the pain than dull it or pretend it isn’t there.’
‘Your son wasn’t entirely joking, Sir Henry,’ Kit interjected calmly, leaping to Hal’s defence. ‘We did go for a run in the park. At least, I ran as I pushed him in his wheelchair.’
‘Did you, indeed?’ Staring at her, his father blustered, ‘Did you really think that was a good idea when my son already has a broken leg, young woman? What if he had fallen out of the chair and hurt himself even more?’
‘There was no chance of that. For goodness’ sake, I’m an adult, not a child, and Kit was only trying to cheer me up.’ Hal was rigid with anger. ‘In any case, why is the thought of having some fun so alien to you, Father? Not everything in life has to be so damn serious. Do you even know the concept of relaxation?’
To his surprise, the other man looked almost crestfallen.
‘The truth is I probably don’t,’ he answered quietly. ‘I’ve always felt that my responsibility for raising a family and leaving a healthy legacy for my children after I’m gone was paramount...just as my forebears did. Too serious a matter to take lightly and relax.’
‘You drive yourself too hard. Sam and I have been independent for a long time now, Dad. I’d rather you stopped working so hard and just thought about what you wanted for yourself. Take some time out. Go on an extended holiday. You’ve got plenty of people working for you who could take care of things in your absence. Falteringham isn’t going to go to rack and ruin if you’re not here, as you fear it might. You should make a new priority to have some fun. Maybe even find yourself a nice woman?’
As Henry Treverne Senior’s downturned mouth nudged into a surprising smile the drawing room door opened. Transporting a tray laden with cups, saucers, a plate of sandwiches and a full cafetière, the housekeeper—Mary—came into the room. She was a statuesque middle-aged woman with broad hips, bobbed brown hair and a clear open face that in her youth might have been called pretty.
Aware that they hadn’t been introduced—his father’s last housekeeper had retired a few months ago—Hal automatically gave the woman a welcoming smile. ‘You must be Mary?’ he said as she laid the tray down on the walnut coffee table in front of him. ‘I’m Henry.’ He held out his hand to shake hers.
Clearly surprised at a welcome she hadn’t expected, the woman slid her palm into his and smiled back.
‘It’s nice to meet you, Mr Treverne. Your father is always singing your praises. I’m so sorry about your accident, by the way. But I’m sure it won’t be too long before you’re back on your feet again. Anyway, help yourself to coffee and sandwiches. If you want any more do let me know. In the meantime I’ll be getting your rooms ready.’
When she’d departed, his father sat back in his chair and sighed.
‘She’s a breath of fresh air, that woman. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without her.’
This frank confession, coming straight after Mary had told him that his father was always singing his praises, doubly stunned Hal. It opened the door to a distinct possibility that he had unfairly misjudged the man. Shaking his head in wonder, he said, ‘If you feel like that then all I can say is welcome back to the land of the living. Good for you, Dad.’ Glancing across the room at Kit, he felt his heart warm when he saw that her pretty mouth was curving in what looked to be an approving smile. ‘Why don’t you come over here and tuck into some of these sandwiches?’ he invited her. ‘They look seriously good.’
‘My son is right, Miss Blessington. Or perhaps you wouldn’t mind if I called you Kit? You must be hungry after making that long drive from London. You should definitely eat something.’
‘Thank you. I will.’
When she’d reached the table Hal couldn’t resist reaching for her hand and squeezing it. She didn’t immediately pull away, as he’d thought she might, even though her smile was somewhat tentative and shy. Catching the unspoken question in his father’s eyes, he realised he was watching them. But Hal honestly didn’t care that he’d witnessed the fact that the relationship between him and Kit wasn’t entirely a professional one. There was suddenly a great desire in him to be transparent for once—to be honest and open about his feelings and take the consequences, no matter how difficult or challenging they might be...
* * *
A short while later Kit was returning from the bathroom, just about to open the drawing room door to enter, when she heard Sir Henry’s deeply resonant voice saying to his son, ‘I must say your suggestion that I take an extended break sounds like a good one, Hal. I know I can rely on the staff here to take care of things in my absence. And while we’re on the subject, have you had any more thoughts about one day coming home to take over the estate? I know you probably don’t want to hear it, but I’m not getting any younger, and Falteringham needs some young blood in it again. Perhaps you need to think about marrying and having a family? Are you seeing any nice girls who might be suitable at the moment? The estate is your heritage, as well as your home, and I’d like you to help take it forward into the twenty-first century with a family of your own beside you.’
Outside the door, Kit froze and held her breath.
‘Given that I’ve had a lot of time on my hands lately to reflect on things,’ she heard Hal reply, ‘you and the estate haven’t been far from my mind. Yes, I would like to come back one day and take over the reins, with a wife and children of my own by my side...but just not right now. I’ll know when the time is right.’
‘Any idea when that might be?’
There was a pause, and then Hal sighed. ‘No, Dad. I’m afraid you’re just going to have to be patient.’
With her heart clamouring distressingly, Kit took a deep breath in and shakily curved her hand round the doorknob....
* * *
Dropping her holdall onto the end of the elegantly dressed half-tester bed in the room Mary had shown her into, Kit drew her hands down over her face and sighed heavily. She felt emotionally wrung out and weary to the bone. Even though she’d got through the rest of the evening without regretting that she’d agreed to Hal’s request to take him back to his ancestral home, because it looked as if his father and he were honestly resolved on healing the rift between them, she was in utter turmoil about the discussion she’d heard between Hal and his father about him returning home one day to Falteringham House and assuming the ancestral role he’d be inheriting with a wife and children by his side.
Her memory of the conversation was upsettingly fixated on Sir Henry’s enquiry as to whether Hal was seeing any ‘nice’ or ‘suitable’ girls at the moment. Nothing could have made her feel more out of place. Not just out of place, but heartsick, because she was in love with a man who was so clearly out of her league that it was pure fantasy to imagine even for an instant that she might have a future with him. Unfortunately Kit wasn’t one of those ‘nice’ and ‘suitable’ girls that Hal’s father wanted for his son. And, that being so, she would probably nurse her hurt and regret at not being able to be with Hal for ever.
You’re such a fool, Kit... How could you have been so stupid? You’re your mother all over again!
Furiously berating herself, she buried her face in her hands and cried and cried until she felt she couldn’t cry any more. There wasn’t a single place in her body where she didn’t ache for Hal. Everything about him—the way he looked and smiled, the warm, sensual scent of his body, even the way he teased and provoked her to distraction—had ensured Kit would be an addict for him for life. It was as though he’d put her under a spell that she’d never be free of, no matter how hard she might try.
But, since she couldn’t have him, the only thing she could look forward to was the prospect of the little bolthole she’d been working towards for most of her life. Making it into a reality. Perhaps when she had that she might at least have the satisfaction of achieving the one thing that she’d set out to do to make her life better. As for having a meaningful relationship... It was something that wasn’t even remotely likely. Not now. Not when Hal Treverne had ruined any chance that she’d ever be whole enough for anyone else again.
Slipping off her shoes, she wearily tugged her sweater over her head and threw it onto the bed. Then she turned and headed for the bathroom. Usually a long hot soak in the tub was her therapy of choice to help soothe her and put things into perspective when she’d had a bad day. But, knowing that wasn’t going to be the case tonight, she opted for a shower instead. After that she intended to go straight to bed.
At Sir Henry’s suggestion she would take the opportunity to have an early night because he and his son had ‘a lot to talk about’. She wasn’t to worry, he’d said, because he would help Hal to his bedroom and see that he got his medication if he needed it. There was no need for them to disturb her. Every word of that little speech had sliced through Kit’s heart like a sharpened scythe, because it had only served to remind her that she was already becoming superfluous to Hal’s needs. The fact was he had access to a raft of people he could call upon for help if he wanted to. His wealth pretty much saw to that. Would he even miss her when the time came for her to leave? Kit speculated forlornly.
Underneath the hot spray of the shower, she disproved the belief that she had no more tears left to cry and helplessly, despairingly, cried again.
When she finally emerged from the glass cubicle she felt shaken and drained to the core. She didn’t even feel as if she had the energy to dry herself. Scared at how powerfully she seemed to be unravelling, she determinedly switched her focus to the practicalities of getting ready for bed. To that end, she brushed her teeth, properly dried her hair, then unpacked her holdall to retrieve the cosily warm pyjamas she’d brought with her. They were a lot more practical than the silk chemise she’d worn the night Hal had seduced her, but the sight of them did little to help alleviate her sorrow. They were just another reminder that she’d never know another night of passion with the man she loved again.
Turning out the elegant lamp next to the bed, wanting to shut out not just the day’s events but everything that troubled her, she closed her eyes. All she could do now was pray for an unbroken night’s sleep in which to recover her strength and to somehow find the will and the means to overcome her sorrow so she could carry on with life regardless. God knew her mother had had to do just that more than once. If she could do it, then so could her daughter...
* * *
In Kit’s dream, someone was tapping on the door. The repetitive sound didn’t seem to abate, and finally it pierced her already fitful sleep and made her realise it was no dream but solid, disturbing fact. Dazedly scrambling to sit up, she pushed back the silky curtain of hair that brushed her face and stared over at the door. All she could see beneath the edges was an unbroken sliver of dimmed light that came from the corridor outside. There was no evidence of anyone’s feet moving. Her head felt fuzzy and she couldn’t think straight. Icy fear had robbed her of the ability. Was she still dreaming? It was hard to tell.
When the tapping sound abruptly ceased, she sucked in a relieved breath and nervously glanced round the room. Perhaps it had been a dream after all?
The moonlight outside her window dappled the emerald-green counterpane that covered the bed with haunting shadows, and did the same to the various pieces of dark antique furniture that were arranged round the room. Kit’s heart galloped in fear in case a ghost suddenly appeared. She was already frightened out of her wits enough, without having to contend with some ghostly apparition!
When another bout of tapping broke the uneasy silence that had descended, this time with a bit more force, Kit remembered that Hal’s room was next door. What if he was in urgent need of her help? She was mortified that it hadn’t registered before that the knocking on the door was probably coming from him.
Shoving aside the counterpane, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and hurried across the rug-covered stone flags to open the door. Her heart was already bumping anxiously against her ribs even before she set eyes on the man who waited outside. When she did, her heart bumped even harder. He was sleepy-eyed and tousle-haired, with a fresh growth of dark beard studding his chiselled jaw, and gazing into Hal’s golden eyes was like stumbling onto a never-to-be forgotten glimpse of heaven.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked.
His answer was a provocative lopsided grin. ‘Nothing now that I’m looking at you, angel.’
The smoky cadence of his voice somehow transmitted itself to Kit’s muscles and made them feel dangerously weak. ‘How long have you been knocking on the door?’ she asked huskily. ‘I thought I was dreaming.’
‘I wasn’t keeping track of the time. I just thought I’d stay here until I wore you down with my dogged persistence, got you to come and see who it was and hopefully let me in.’
Unconsciously clutching her pyjama top, agitatedly twisting the material into a knot in the process, Kit stared at him in disbelief, suddenly realising the only reason he was standing was because he was using his crutches to help him. Hadn’t his father had the sense to get his wheelchair for him? She’d left him the car keys and had strongly emphasised that he shouldn’t let his son rely solely on his walking aids to get to his room. He’d already told her that the guest rooms on the ground floor were right at the back of the house.
‘Are you crazy? You should never have stood out there for so long. You’ll have to come in and sit down on the bed for a while.’
‘That invitation is music to my ears, sweetheart. I’m certainly not going to argue.’ He winced a little, as though the strain of standing upright had unquestionably taxed him.
Again Kit berated herself for not doing her job properly—for leaving him. It didn’t matter that he’d been with his father...no one knew better than she did what he needed. The impassioned thought sent a scalding, searing heat surging through her bloodstream that was like a swell of molten honey.
Biting down on her lip, she waited until Hal had passed her before shutting the door behind them. She noted he was still dressed in the clothes he’d been wearing to travel in. She had no idea of the time but it was obvious he hadn’t been to bed yet. What did he think he was doing, staying up so late, when his surgeon had told him it was extremely important he got as much rest as possible while his leg healed?
‘That’s better.’ Expelling a grateful sigh, he dropped down onto the rumpled green counterpane and handed her his crutches. ‘Can you put these somewhere?’
‘Sure.’ Kit laid them against the striped green couch at the end of the bed, where they would be easily accessible. Then, folding her arms over her chest, she asked, ‘Why on earth have you stayed up so late? Is there something you want to discuss that can’t wait until the morning?’
His avid gaze intensifying a little, for a long moment Hal looked to be deep in thought. ‘As a matter of fact, there is. But first I wanted to tell you something. My dad and I have been having a father and son talk—probably the first genuine discussion we’ve had for years. God knows it’s long overdue. Turns out he doesn’t think I’m such a disaster after all. In fact he tells me he’s more than a little awed by my success and my courage at pursuing my “hair-raising stunts” as he calls them—even though he can’t always understand it. He’s always thought that the reason I’m so reckless is because I don’t value my life enough—that I must be suffering from some sort of depression brought about by my mother leaving when I was little. That seriously grieves him.
‘He blames himself for not being there for me as often as he would have liked after she left, and he said that he wished it could have been different. But as well as making sure he’s protecting mine and Sam’s legacy he’s so focused on taking care of the estate and the people who work for him because it’s their livelihood too. He has to make those things his priority. Who could have predicted that he’d be so honest with me? You were right when you said I should come to see him, Kit. I’m glad that I did. Hearing the truth about how he really feels about me has helped lay a lot of the ghosts from my past that have haunted me to rest. Like any good parent, he just wanted the best for his children—even if I couldn’t always see that that was his intention. Anyway, it feels good to clear the air and have the chance to repair things.’
‘Then I suppose I shouldn’t moan at you for staying up so late, since something good has come out it. But I don’t think you should stay up for much longer. Not unless you intend to spend the whole of tomorrow resting and taking it easy. I think it’s time you turned in and went to bed.’
One corner of Hal’s engaging mouth lifted intriguingly. ‘That brings me nicely to the main reason I knocked on your door sweetheart. I do indeed need to go to bed—but not on my own. I’d much rather have some company tonight and the company I want and need most in the world—not just for tonight—is you, Kit.’
Nothing could have prepared Kit for the dizzying joy that swept through her at his unexpected confession. In fact her feelings so overwhelmed her that she couldn’t find the words or the actions to express how much they meant to her. But tainting her unexpected happiness was the distressing memory of the conversation she’d overheard between Hal and his father about him taking up his inheritance.
‘I can’t be the company you need most in the world, Hal,’ she said soberly. ‘Not when one day soon you’ll be married to someone else...someone much more suitable than I am.’
‘What on earth are you talking about? Who told you I’m soon going to be married to someone else?’
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? I didn’t realise the extent and importance of your family legacy until I came here. It’s understandable that you’ll need to marry someone from your own class when one day you’re going to inherit this estate.’
Frowning, Hal stared at her as though she were speaking a foreign language he didn’t understand. Then comprehension dawned on him.
‘Did you by any chance overhear a conversation between me and my dad? Specifically the part where he asked me if I would one day come back to take up my inheritance?’
Feeling uncomfortably guilty, Kit nodded. ‘I did. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It’s just that I was on my way back from the bathroom and your father—well, he doesn’t speak quietly.’
To her astonishment, Hal threw back his head and laughed.
‘He certainly doesn’t speak quietly,’ he agreed. His expression quickly became serious again. ‘What else did you hear?’
‘I heard you tell him that you would marry one day and return, but only when the time was right. Then, when he asked you when that would be, I heard you tell him he had to be patient.’
‘That’s all? You didn’t hear anything else?’
‘No. That was enough.’
‘Enough? For what, exactly?’
‘It was enough to make me realise that I shouldn’t delude myself that you’ll ever want to have a serious relationship with me.’
‘Is that really what you believe, Kit?’ His brow furrowing in concern, Hal reached out a hand and curled it round her wrist. Then he pulled her towards him.
For a few moments she teetered, anxiously trying to regain her balance and not fall against him. But he was already winding his arms round her waist to steady her, and gazing up into her eyes as though he would never willingly tear his gaze away to look at anything else. At once the scent of his warm, virile body enveloped her and she knew that even if she could muster the most powerful will in the world she wouldn’t be able to deny him anything that he desired if it gave him pleasure and made him happy.
‘What am I to believe, if not that?’
‘How about that I honestly want to have a serious relationship with you? That I’ll go crazy if I can’t have the one woman in the world who means more to me than anybody else?’
Every other thought in her head was obliterated at that heartfelt assertion. Sorrow seemed a million light years away when Hal looked at her the way he was looking at her now. As if she was something infinitely precious and he would willingly sacrifice everything he owned to keep her safe.
