Читать книгу Keeping Luke's Secret - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 7

‘YOU’LL have to excuse Luke, I’m afraid, Leonie,’ Rachel told her ruefully, the two women sitting in the older woman’s comfortable sitting-room six days later drinking coffee together. ‘He can be very protective.’

In this case Leonie wasn’t sure whom Luke was being protective of: himself or his mother. But at least Rachel seemed aware of Luke’s visit to Leonie the previous weekend…

‘He doesn’t appear—keen, on your biography being written.’ Leonie chose her words carefully, only too aware of how strongly against the idea Luke was. ‘I have to say, after thinking about it,’ Leonie continued evenly, ‘that I’m not—’

‘I know exactly what you’re going to say, Leonie,’ the actress gently interrupted her, placing her hand warmly on Leonie’s arm. ‘In the circumstances, I can’t exactly blame you.’ She gave a grimace. ‘But I can assure you I do have my reasons for doing what I’m doing,’ she added huskily.

Leonie couldn’t for the life of her imagine what they were. And she was equally sure that Luke didn’t appreciate what they were, either…

‘I’m sure you do.’ She nodded frowningly. ‘But I’ve thought over your—suggestion, and I don’t feel I could do you credit.’ She smiled. ‘I’m sure that someone else—’

‘No one else, Leonie.’ There was a steely edge to Rachel’s voice now, those green eyes bright as emeralds. ‘I happen to have settled on you.’

Leonie looked questioningly at the other woman. So far in their short acquaintance Rachel had been the height of graciousness, totally warm and extremely friendly. But obviously there was another side to this beautiful woman, a side that could be as forceful as her arrogant son…

Leonie sighed. ‘I’m fully aware of the compliment being paid me,’ she began firmly.

‘Not at all, Leonie,’ Rachel assured her smoothly.

‘But at the same time I feel it only fair to tell you—’ She broke off abruptly as the door was suddenly thrust open, Luke Richmond now standing in the doorway. Really, did the man never just come into a room—knock, even…?

She tensed expectantly, knowing from the furious look on that arrogant face that this situation hadn’t yet been settled between mother and son. In the circumstances, she doubted that it ever would be!

Couldn’t Rachel see what this suggested biography was doing to her son? Leonie couldn’t believe a woman as warm as Rachel could be that insensitive. So why was the other woman being so adamant?

One thing Leonie was all too sure of—she did not want to get caught in the firing line between mother and son!

‘Mr Richmond,’ she greeted lightly before either of the Richmonds could speak. ‘You’re just in time to hear me tell your mother—’

‘What a nice surprise, Luke,’ Rachel cut smoothly across Leonie’s reassuring words, standing to reach up and kiss her son warmly on the cheek. ‘I thought you were away this weekend.’

’Obviously,’ he drawled dryly, shooting Leonie a pointed glare. ‘This all looks rather cosy.’ He raised dark brows in the direction of the used coffee tray on the table.

‘The coffee is still fresh, I’ll ring for Janet and ask her to bring in another cup.’ His mother smiled, moving towards the bell beside the fireplace.

‘Really, Rachel, I’m sure Janet has enough to do.’ Luke rasped reprovingly.

Leonie looked at him curiously.

‘You’re very grouchy today, darling,’ his mother teased affectionately. ‘I’m sure Janet wouldn’t mind in the least.’

‘I mind,’ he bit out harshly. ‘Besides, I don’t want any coffee.’

‘Darling, why didn’t you just say that in the first place?’ Rachel sighed, resuming her seat, crossing one silky knee over the other.

The answer to that was all too obvious to Leonie; Luke just wanted to be difficult. In truth, she felt extremely uncomfortable at being a witness to this sharp exchange between son and mother.

She felt even more uncomfortable as she suddenly found herself the focus of those pale green eyes. ‘So we meet yet again, Dr Winston,’ Luke bit out dryly.

Making it obvious that, if there were any pleasure in this meeting, it certainly wasn’t on his side!

Well, she had news for him; it wasn’t on hers, either. She had decided through the week as, in fairness to Rachel, she’d weighed up the pros and cons of writing her biography that any pros she might be able to find were far outweighed by Luke Richmond’s complete aversion to the project. After all, as the other woman’s son, he would be one of Leonie’s main sources of research. A very uncooperative source!

She met his gaze unblinkingly. ‘So we do,’ she returned evenly. ‘In fact, you’re just in time to—’

‘You really have been very naughty, Luke,’ his mother admonished with light reproval. ‘In fact, I do believe you’ve succeeded in frightening poor Leonie off writing my biography.’

‘Really?’ Luke murmured with amusement, shooting Leonie a mocking glance before lowering his long length into one of the armchairs. ‘Good,’ he added with satisfaction.

Leonie had stiffened resentfully by this time, glaring across at the obviously self-satisfied Luke Richmond. ‘Frightened her off’, indeed! She didn’t like Luke Richmond, or his arrogance, but she most certainly was not frightened of him!

She turned to smile at Rachel. ‘I don’t believe I actually said that,’ she said dryly.

‘As good as,’ the other woman dismissed impatiently. ‘It really is too bad of you, Luke.’ She frowned across at her son, who looked totally unrepentant at the accusation. In fact, a cat that had just lapped up the cream better described his expression of self-satisfaction!

‘No, Rachel, you’re wrong,’ Leonie put in firmly. ‘I was merely pointing out the drawbacks of such a biography, not refusing to write it,’ she told the actress determinedly. ‘In fact, it might be rather fun, at that,’ she added dryly.

‘Fun!’ Luke echoed harshly, no longer relaxing back in his chair but sitting forward tensely as he glared across at Leonie. ‘This isn’t some damned game!’ he added furiously.

Leonie was well aware of that, but if Rachel was determined to do it anyway… ‘Tell me, Rachel—’ she turned to the older woman ‘—if I don’t agree to work with you on this, are you going to ask someone else to do it?’

The other woman met her gaze levelly for several long seconds, her gaze searching. ‘I do believe I am,’ she finally answered slowly.

‘That’s what I thought.’ Leonie nodded before looking across at Luke. ‘Which would you prefer, Luke—me, or some other biographer you don’t actually know?’

‘You already know the answer to that—neither option is acceptable to me!’ he ground out harshly.

‘But given a choice?’ she persisted.

‘But I’m not being given a choice, am I?’ he snapped, standing up impatiently. ‘You can go as far with this as you want to, Mother,’ he bit out harshly, ‘but I want nothing to do with it!’

Rachel winced. ‘There’s really no need to shout, Luke,’ she admonished gently.

His mouth had thinned into an angry line, fists clenched at his sides. ‘I’d like to do more than shout,’ he told her unnecessarily, the violence he was repressing easily discernible. ‘But you’ve already made it more than obvious that I would be wasting my time,’ he added disgustedly. ‘I think I will be away this weekend, after all!’ He turned to look at Leonie with glacial eyes. ‘I hope you know what you’re letting yourself in for!’ came his parting shot as he strode forcefully from the room, closing the door behind him with suppressed fury.

‘Oh, dear,’ Rachel sighed wearily. ‘I really do seem to have upset him this time. He never calls me "Mother” unless he’s really displeased with me,’ she confided at Leonie’s questioning look.

Was it any wonder Luke felt as he did? Surely Rachel must know what this proposed biography was doing to him, couldn’t have been left in any doubts, after this last exchange, how Luke felt about Rachel’s involvement in this biography?

A biography Leonie now seemed to have committed herself to writing…

How had that happened? She had come here today for the sole purpose of telling Rachel she couldn’t be involved. Had intended politely, but firmly, turning down the other woman’s offer. But somehow that didn’t seem to be what she had actually done…!

Leonie moistened her lips. ‘Rachel,’ she began slowly, ‘I don’t wish to appear rude, but—’ She broke off as the older woman began to laugh huskily. ‘Did I say something amusing?’ She gave a quizzical frown.

‘Not really.’ The actress sobered slightly, giving a reassuring squeeze of Leonie’s arm before moving to press the bell beside the fireplace. ‘I’ll order us some fresh coffee. In the meantime…’ she smiled ‘…you can ask me whether or not I deliberately engineered that situation just now so that you would find yourself in the position—obviously against your better judgement!—of being committed to writing my biography. That was what you were about to ask me, wasn’t it, Leonie?’ She arched teasing brows.

That was exactly what she had been about to ask! But now she knew she didn’t need to bother—it was all too obvious that was exactly what Rachel had done, making Leonie aware that she had better re-evaluate her previous opinion of Rachel.

Oh, she didn’t doubt that the other woman was as warm and friendly as she appeared. There was no doubting her natural beauty, even in her seventies, either. But that guileless expression that Leonie had taken for openness of character wasn’t all that it appeared to be; Rachel was more than capable of practising a deception, or manoeuvring a situation, to suit her own ends. In fact, there was more of a likeness between mother and son than she had previously realised!

Although that realisation didn’t change the outcome of what she had just done. Because there was no way, without giving Luke Richmond the satisfaction of believing she was indeed frightened of him, that she could back out of this commitment.

The fact that Rachel now looked very like her son had a few minutes ago, like the cat who had lapped up all the cream, did nothing to assuage Leonie’s feelings of unease…

’This is a nice surprise, darling,’ her grandfather told her warmly as she joined him in his Devonshire garden a short time later, busy in the greenhouse with the seedlings he had grown ready for late-spring planting. ‘I have all too little female company since your grandmother died last year,’ he added wistfully.

Leonie, despite returning his smile affectionately, felt a little guilty for her own lack of visits during the last few months, aware that it was over five weeks since she had last driven down to see him.

He looked as robust as usual, though, his brushed-back hair a thick iron-grey, his over-six-feet frame still as wiry as ever, the tweed jacket and brown trousers he had on for gardening having previously been what he’d worn during his university lecturing days, a post he had stepped down from over ten years ago to retire to his beloved Devon. Unfortunately, as he had said, her grandmother had died the previous year, leaving him very much on his own…

He frowned vaguely. ‘I hope I have something that I can give you for lunch…’

‘Cheese melted on toast will do me just fine,’ she assured him, tucking her arm into the crook of his as they went out into the garden to sit beneath the apple tree, where Leonie had placed the tray of tea things she had prepared on her way through the house. ‘You really should lock the cottage door,’ she told her grandfather ruefully as he looked at the laden tray. ‘Anyone could just walk in.’

‘I wouldn’t call you just anyone, my darling,’ he teased as he watched her pour the tea. ‘Besides, anyone could get in anyway, if they were determined enough, Leonie, locked door or no,’ he defended lightly as she shot him a reproving look.

He was right, of course. But that didn’t mean she didn’t worry about him down here in Devon all on his own. Although she knew he wouldn’t thank her for fussing.

A noted historian in his own right, he had continued to lecture until he was well into his sixties, had always been a voice of authority that was listened to, by his students and colleagues alike.

Luke Richmond had asked her what she was trying to prove by becoming a historian like her grandfather. She wasn’t trying to prove anything; she just respected and loved her grandfather very much. The fact that she had also known her choice of career would please him immensely had come into it, of course, but it wasn’t the whole story…

’So, to what do I owe the honour of this visit?’ he prompted once they both had a cup of tea. “’Just passing” won’t pass muster, I’m afraid,’ he added dryly.

Obviously not, but by driving to Rachel Richmond’s house in Hampshire earlier this morning she had already been almost halfway here; it had seemed only logical to make the rest of the drive to her grandfather’s home in Devon. Besides, for the past week she had wanted to ask him about something…

‘It’s so relaxing here.’ She sighed happily, resting back in her garden chair, birds singing in the trees, the wild flowers already in abundance in the well-cared-for cottage garden that was her grandfather’s pride and joy.

‘It is.’ He too looked around them with satisfaction. ‘How’s your young man?’ he prompted interestedly.

Leonie smiled at the description; at thirty-two Jeremy could hardly be called that. Although, probably to her grandfather, in his eightieth year, that did seem young!

‘Fine,’ she answered dismissively. ‘He’s away on some computer course or other this weekend,’ she added helpfully.

‘Ah. At a bit of a loose end, are you?’ Her grandfather nodded understandingly, blue eyes twinkling teasingly beneath bushy iron-grey brows.

‘Grandfather!’ Leonie chided laughingly. ‘You make it sound as if I only came to see you because I have nothing better to do this weekend!’

‘That’s how it should be with old fogies like me,’ he assured her seriously. ‘Enjoy your life, Leonie, with people your own age. That’s the way it should be. Despite what your mother may tell you to the contrary,’ he added dryly.

They shared a conspiratorial smile; as an only child, Leonie was expected, by her mother at least, to telephone her parents at least once a week, and to visit them in Cornwall once a month. Thank heavens her grandfather was just pleased to see her, no matter how long it had been since her last visit.

‘Actually, I was in Hampshire earlier this morning,’ she began slowly, still not quite sure how to broach this subject when her grandfather had never mentioned it himself. ‘I believe I met an old acquaintance of yours there…? At least, he seemed convinced the two of you had met.’

‘Really?’ her grandfather prompted interestedly before taking a sip of his tea.

‘Yes. You didn’t tell me your social life now involved screenwriters,’ she added lightly, grey eyes glowing teasingly.

He gave a perplexed frown. ‘I’m not sure…’

‘Luke Richmond,’ Leonie told him questioningly; she had far from forgotten the fact that the other man had claimed to have spoken to her grandfather concerning his biography.

Her grandfather looked blank for a moment, and then his brow cleared. ‘Ah—Luke Richmond!’ he repeated knowingly. ‘A rather dour young man as I recall…’ He nodded. ‘How on earth did you come to meet him, darling? Or has your own social life now moved into the world of the movies?’ he added teasingly.

‘Oh, no, you don’t, Grandfather!’ Leonie dismissed laughingly—although she couldn’t say she disagreed with his summing up of Luke Richmond’s nature! ‘I know exactly what you’re doing,’ she assured him wryly, ‘and I’m not going to be distracted. Why didn’t you tell any of us that you had been approached with the suggestion of writing the screenplay of your life?’

He grimaced. ‘Can you imagine your mother’s reaction to that?’ he scorned.

Leonie had no illusions about her mother, knew she was a complete snob—and she had not been at all happy the previous year when Leonie’s book on her father-in-law had come into print.

‘I can,’ she acknowledged dryly. ‘But even so… You could have told me, Grandfather,’ she admonished, giving him a playfully reproachful glance.

Her grandfather grinned, suddenly looking quite boyish. ‘What on earth were you doing in Hampshire this morning with Luke Richmond?’

Leonie looked at him searchingly, trying to gauge his reaction, but her grandfather was turned slightly away from her, making this difficult.

‘I wasn’t exactly with him,’ she said slowly. ‘I—he was a guest at the home of the person I was visiting.’

For some reason, after coming all this way to see her grandfather, Leonie now found herself reluctant to discuss Rachel Richmond with him. Or the fact that she had been stupid enough to be tricked into writing the other woman’s memoirs.

Her grandfather nodded. ‘He seemed like a very capable young man when I met him.’

‘If a little dour,’ she reminded dryly.

Her grandfather shrugged. ‘Only to be expected, I suppose. It can’t have been much of a life for him,’ he added softly. ‘Living in his mother’s shadow, I mean,’ he added at Leonie’s continued silence, turning to give her a rueful grimace.

No, it can’t have been easy for Luke all these years, Leonie acknowledged heavily. By agreeing to write Rachel’s book, she was about to make Luke’s lot in life all the harder to bear!