Читать книгу The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 85

‘THERE’S NOTHING LIKE a proper afternoon tea, is there?’ Lady Geraldine sighed happily as she stirred sugar into her second cup and listened appreciatively to the sound of silverware tapping against real bone china. ‘Did you know you can buy these lovely cups and saucers from the gift shop?’

‘I’ll have to have a look. I’m planning to go there after this.’

Lady Geraldine couldn’t help noticing the glow of Winsome’s smile. Her old friend certainly looked very happy these days. She could return the smile easily. She had a lot to be happy about herself at the moment.

Like meeting an old friend unexpectedly. Being on her once-in-a-lifetime dream journey. Actually sitting in this famous bar carriage with the pianist now in residence playing some soft, classical music interspersed with Christmas carols. Remembering Charlotte playing on the beautiful instrument earlier when it had been the first time she’d heard her in so many years. Could it be that it was Nico who was bringing back the part of her granddaughter she’d been missing for so long?

She picked up the elegant white cup with the blue ribbon pattern around its rim and the VSOE logo under a small crown. ‘Maybe a set of these would make a lovely engagement gift for my Charlotte and her Nico.’

‘You said they’d only met yesterday? In Venice? When they both saved that man’s life?’

‘Yes…’ Lady Geraldine pushed aside that tiny niggle of doubt. ‘But they’d met before. Years ago, at Charlotte’s hospital. Fate has just thrown them back together and…’ She sighed again. ‘It’s obviously meant to be. Like your Connor and…what was her name again?’

The conversation paused for a moment as the steward removed the plates that had contained tiny sandwiches and replaced it with a platter of warm scones, adding small silver pots of jam and clotted cream.

‘Mmm…’ Lady Geraldine eyed the cream. ‘Proper Cornish clotted cream, by the look of that.’

‘Kelsie,’ Winsome said as she followed her friend’s example and picked up one of the scones. ‘Kelsie Summers. But I don’t think she and Connor are about to fall into each other’s arms like your Charlotte and Nico. She jilted him, in fact, fifteen years ago and I have the feeling he hasn’t forgiven her.’

‘Really?’ Lady Geraldine had spread the jam and clotted cream onto her scone and was just about to take her first bite but the conversation had just become more enticing than the calorie-laden treat. ‘They must have been very young. Oh, do tell…’

They both dropped their voices to a more discreet level and Lady Geraldine listened to the story with avid interest. Young love could be such a fragile thing, couldn’t it? She had to hope that there wouldn’t be any unforeseen twists in the road ahead for Charlotte and Nico.

She finally turned her attention back to her scone but her expression was thoughtful.

‘We might be able to help things along,’ she suggested.

‘What do you mean?’

‘The dinner seating is very strict, I hear.’

‘It certainly is. I’ve tried to change tables at the last minute on some of my previous journeys and it almost never happens.’

‘It’s not the last minute yet,’ Lady Geraldine said firmly. ‘And if we both had a little chat to the maître d’, I’m sure we could persuade him to juggle things a little.’

‘In what way?’

‘By making an extra table available. We’ve still got a lot of catching up to do, haven’t we? We haven’t even started talking about that terrible business with Deirdre Wilkins defrauding the charity so that she could run off to the Maldives with that “personal” trainer of hers.’

Lady Geraldine knew her smile would reveal how much she enjoyed an occasional bit of juicy gossip. ‘If we asked to be seated together, that would mean leaving both your Connor and this Kelsie and my Charlotte and the lovely Nico alone at their tables.’

‘Yes…If we could make sure they gave them a table for two or didn’t put another couple to join them at one of the bigger tables.’

‘It would be so romantic, wouldn’t it? Everybody dressed up and the lighting all soft and lots of delicious champagne to add to the atmosphere?’

Winsome was smiling. ‘Why don’t we ask our nice steward to go and see if the maître d’ might be able to spare us a minute or two?’

Charlotte drifted towards consciousness with reluctance.

She had never felt so comfortable. So relaxed. So safe. She was floating, supported by a strength she knew she could trust. Cradled against it and it was warm and…moving?

Yes. A steady, gentle movement like breathing. And there was an equally steady but gentle thumping against her ear.

A sound she normally only heard through a stethoscope.

Awareness of where she was kicked in. Or should that be who she was with?

Asleep on, in fact?

‘Ohhh…’ Charlotte pushed herself upright with a groan. ‘I fell asleep?’

‘You did.’ There was amusement in Nico’s tone. And a tenderness that touched something that felt raw inside Charlotte.

The last thing she remembered was bursting into tears and Nico holding her. She’d expected him to want more information about what had gone so wrong with her relationship with Siegfried. For her to define what she’d meant by being incompatible. But he hadn’t asked anything. He’d offered her comfort instead, as though he understood. As though everything could somehow be put right.

And it had been too much for Charlotte. Her defences had collapsed completely and she’d sobbed out the tears that had been bottled up for years and years. And then she must have been overcome by sheer exhaustion and fallen asleep.

And he’d just continued to hold her?

‘How long?’ Charlotte put a hand to her hair, which felt like a rat’s nest. She closed her eyes in disbelief and found that her eyelashes felt all clumpy when she blinked. She probably had mascara all over her face. She opened them again. The short winter’s day was ending already and it was dark outside but their cabin was glowing in the soft light from a lamp on the table. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

Nico was tilting his head to one side and then the other, stretching his neck. ‘I wasn’t watching the clock.’ He smiled. ‘I may have dozed off myself, in fact.’

Charlotte could feel a smile stirring. A joke about them sleeping together forming.

‘Only until the steward woke me to tell me about Jendi.’

The smile and joke evaporated. ‘What? Oh, my God…and you didn’t wake me? What was wrong? Why—?’

Nico put a finger against her lips and the gentle pressure stopped her anxious flow of words.

‘He merely came to ask if I could accompany her to the bar for the afternoon tea she had arranged to have with Mrs Black. As soon as he saw that I was…ah…otherwise occupied, he said it was no problem, he would accompany her himself and ensure that she didn’t lose her balance.’

Charlotte couldn’t believe she could have slept through the whole exchange. ‘I’m sorry,’ she muttered. ‘I must have been more tired than I realised. I…um…didn’t sleep much last night.’

‘Of course not. You’re worried about your nonna.’

‘Mmm. That, too…’

She saw the flash of understanding in his eyes as he considered what else might have been keeping her awake. Like that kiss…

Distraction was needed. Charlotte looked around. The bottle of champagne was still sitting in the bucket. There were a few small cubes of ice floating on the water inside. Nico must have followed her glance.

‘It may still be cold enough,’ he said. ‘Shall we have a toast?’

‘To what?’

‘To making this evening as enjoyable as possible? For everyone involved. It will be time to get ready for dinner before long, I expect.’ Nico was dealing with the foil on the champagne bottle. ‘We need to prepare ourselves to put on a good show.’ The cork came out with a satisfying ‘pop’. He smiled that slow, easy, irresistible grin as he filled the glasses and held one out to Charlotte. ‘Dutch courage?’

‘Will I need it?’ And then Charlotte remembered what her hair and face must look like and she smiled ruefully. ‘Don’t answer that. I know I look a complete mess.’ She took a sip of her drink. ‘It’s just as well I won’t see you again after tomorrow. I would be mortified. I can’t think of anyone who’s ever seen me look this terrible.’

Apart from Siegfried, of course. Charlotte took a longer sip of the wine.

Nico touched his glass to hers. ‘You are beautiful, Carlotta.’

He looked as though he believed the words. He was giving her that look again. Like the one he’d given her last night. And again, in the gift shop. But why? There was no one around to see. He didn’t have to pretend here.

And hadn’t he told her that she was safe because she was so completely not his type?

She wanted to be his type. Heaven help her but she wanted Nico to kiss her again.

Dammit. Where were her safety barriers when she needed them? At the very least she needed to break their eye contact but it seemed impossible.

Charlotte searched for a barrier she could put up to protect herself but couldn’t find a trace of one. All she could find was a memory of how it had felt to know that Nico had shared his shameful secret with her and how cathartic it had been to finally share her own with another living person. How it had felt to wake up in Nico’s arms.

How was it possible to feel so vulnerable and yet so safe at exactly the same time?

She still couldn’t break the eye contact either. And Nico wasn’t looking away. Charlotte could feel the distance between them closing. The kiss that she wanted so badly was only a heartbeat away.

Until a knock sounded on the cabin door.

‘Dr Moretti? Dr Highton?’ The steward sounded as if the matter was urgent. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, but you are both needed.’

It was just as well the moment had been broken by the interruption.

Perhaps it had been a mistake to let Charlotte sleep in his arms for so long but what else could he have done?

The depth of pain he’d heard in those words ‘not compatible’. They couldn’t have had anything other than a sexual reference and for it to be so hard for Charlotte to have uttered them meant they were the key to the puzzle of what had changed her so much.

A horrible suspicion had formed in Nico’s mind. Something unthinkable. So dark it couldn’t be given a name. So horrific all he’d been able to do was hold onto this damaged woman as he’d tried to fit in the other pieces of the puzzle and control the rush of pure fury on her behalf.

He had to control it. Nico hadn’t known if his assumption was correct. Maybe Charlotte would never tell him and even if she did, what on earth could he do about it?

Nothing, that’s what. It was none of his business. Not his problem. But it would provide an explanation to the mystery and that was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?

So Nico had done nothing. Said nothing. As the minutes had ticked by he’d continued to do nothing and that was when he’d felt Charlotte’s heartbroken sobbing subside. When the exhaustion in her body had taken over. When she’d slipped into a peaceful, bone-deep slumber.

He could have eased himself away at that point, found a pillow and blanket to make her comfortable on the seat. Or carried her to a bunk, maybe, and left her to sleep for an hour or two. What was it about this bizarre situation he’d been caught up in since early yesterday morning that made it impossible to walk away?

He could have ignored Charlotte when he’d first seen her crying on the terrace below his window. He certainly hadn’t needed to come up with the dangerous notion of posing as her lover, let alone shoving a ring on her finger. And he could have found an excuse not to accompany the women on this train journey.

But he hadn’t. Every step of the way he had hesitated and then been drawn in deeper by something he couldn’t explain. And if the steward hadn’t rapped on the door at that particular moment, he would have kissed Charlotte again.

More than kissed her, actually. He could have asked gentle questions with his mouth and his hands that would have confirmed what he suspected was the answer to the puzzle that had intrigued him ever since he’d recognised Charlotte on that cobbled Venetian street.

He would have got answers to those questions, he was sure of that. Just as sure as he was of the fact that Charlotte had wanted him to kiss her. He had seen that desire darken her eyes and soften her lips and he’d felt that knowledge kindle his own flame because it was part of what intrigued him so much. The contradictions. The ice queen on the surface and the woman capable of such deep emotion within. Was the single, ultimately professional doctor desperately in need of physical release, possibly without being consciously aware of it?

Whatever. The desire had been wiped from her eyes the moment that sharp rap had sounded on the door and the tone of the steward’s voice had told them that they were not only needed but needed urgently.

Charlotte’s assumption was, of course, that Jendi had become ill. She moved swiftly to wrench open the cabin door.

‘It’s my grandmother, isn’t it? She needs us?’

The steward nodded. ‘Only you, Dr Highton. She’s asking for assistance to get dressed for dinner.’

‘But you said you needed both of us.’

‘Yes. I’m hoping that Dr Moretti could come with me to see another passenger in the carriage who requires a doctor. He thinks he might be having a heart attack.’

Nico could actually feel his professional persona taking over. Smothering anything personal, like his desire to kiss Charlotte. There was still a flicker of something personal there, though. He stepped closer, needing to touch her, and put his hand on her shoulder.

‘You go and help your nonna,’ he told her. ‘I’ll deal with this.’

‘But…’ Was it his imagination or did Charlotte lean into his hand a little, as if she was trying to return the touch? Her gaze caught his and he could read the message so easily. She was reminding him of what he’d told her grandmother only hours ago. That, together, they made an amazing team.

‘I’ll send for you,’ Nico said softly. ‘If I need you.’ He stepped past Charlotte into the corridor, where the steward was waiting anxiously for Nico to follow him. The last personal thoughts evaporated. ‘What equipment do you have on board?’ he queried. ‘Oxygen? A defibrillator?’

‘Yes. We have oxygen. And an AED.’

‘Good.’ Nico picked up his pace as they made their way to the cabin at the far end of the carriage. ‘Show me which cabin and then fetch them for me, please.’

The man in the end cabin was in his sixties. His colour wasn’t good and he was clutching a small red and white canister of glyceryl trinitrate spray in his hands. His wife was beside him, looking even paler than her husband and virtually wringing her hands.

‘How long is it since the pain came on?’ Nico asked.

The anxious woman checked her watch. ‘Nearly fifteen minutes.’

‘And how many doses of the spray have been taken?’

‘Two? Maybe three…I’ve lost count.’ The woman was struggling to hold back tears. ‘It’s not working and…and they said that if it didn’t work it could be a heart attack and we’d have to get Douglas to the hospital as quickly as possible.’

Nico had his fingers on the older man’s wrist. His pulse was a bit rapid but quite strong and regular.

‘Tell me about the pain.’

‘It’s like a bus parked on my chest. Right here…’ Douglas pressed a fist to his sternum. ‘It’s hard to breathe.’

‘Just in your chest?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you ever had a heart attack?’

‘Yes. Ten years ago. That’s when this whole business started. But it’s been stable. Always comes on the same way…and if I sit down and use the spray it…does the trick.’

He was starting to sound breathless. Thankfully the steward had returned now. He was carrying an oxygen cylinder in one hand and the small red case of an AED in the other. Hopefully the automatic defibrillator wouldn’t be needed but it was great to know that such a lifesaver was available if it came to that. Even with the best team in the world performing CPR, it could only buy time. The only way to restart a heart was through defibrillation.

The best team in the world. Unbidden, a memory of Charlotte working with him on the man at the building site flashed into the back of Nico’s mind. He shook it off as he uncoiled tubing and fitted nasal prongs to give Douglas some oxygen.

‘This may help the pain,’ he said. ‘Are you on any medications?’

‘Yes. Too many.’

‘Can you tell me what they are?’

Douglas shook his head, closing his eyes and screwing up his face as though the pain was becoming unbearable. A sheen of perspiration was beginning to show on his bald head. Nico’s heart sank.

‘I’ve got them.’ The anxious older woman was rummaging in a small suitcase. She pulled out a plastic bag containing numerous packages of medication. They were all things that a cardiac patient could be expected to be on.

‘Have you had your aspirin today?’

‘Yes.’ It was his wife who answered. ‘He’s taken everything.’

‘Let’s try another dose of the GTN.’ Nico took the canister from the man’s hands. It was a bad sign if the spray that normally worked on his angina was failing to be effective but was it possible that it hadn’t been used correctly? Nico rolled the canister in his hands, making sure the contents were mixed and then sprayed a dose into the air to check that the metered dose mechanism was working. The spray came out but, oddly, Nico couldn’t smell anything.

He held the canister up and peered at the base. ‘This spray expired two years ago,’ he exclaimed.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Douglas’s wife clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ Nico reached for the portable pharmacy in the plastic bag. Yes. There was a small box in there that contained a replacement canister. And the expiry date was a year away. He ripped open the box, took the lid off the canister and squeezed off a test shot. ‘Open your mouth,’ he directed Douglas, ‘and lift your tongue.’

He gave Douglas two sprays under his tongue and then kept his fingers on his patient’s pulse and watched his breathing while they waited. Within a matter of minutes Douglas started breathing more easily and deeply. The lines on his face relaxed and when he opened his eyes he actually smiled.

‘It’s almost gone,’ he said.

‘Oh…thank God…’ His wife was crying. ‘I’m so sorry, Doug. This is my fault. I should have thrown that old spray away as soon as we had the new one.’

‘Waste not, want not.’ Douglas patted his wife’s hand. ‘If you weren’t so good at being thrifty we’d never have been able to afford this trip, would we?’ He turned to Nico. ‘Thank you, Doctor. I’m not having a heart attack after all, am I?’

‘It certainly looks like nothing more than an episode of angina. Let’s keep the oxygen going for a little while and see how you go. Someone can always come and find me later, too, if you’re worried.’

The only person looking worried now was Douglas’s wife. ‘I’m so sorry to have disturbed your trip,’ she told Nico.

‘It’s not a problem.’

‘Is it your first time on the Orient Express?’

‘It is.’

‘Isn’t it wonderful? Are you enjoying it?’

‘Of course.’ But Nico had to consciously smile instead of allowing a puzzled frown to crease his forehead. Enjoyment wasn’t a word that he would have chosen to describe his state of mind so far. He’d started out being intrigued and then he’d been impressed by Charlotte’s piano playing. He’d had a spell of being angry when he’d been accused of planning to take advantage of her and then he’d had that cold chill of horror when he thought he’d guessed her secret.

But the overwhelming emotion that he would remember from this trip was going to be the way he’d felt sitting in that cabin and holding Charlotte while she slept. The feeling of protecting her. Of knowing that she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms like that. That he could trust her enough not to ever share the personal information he had given her.

A good feeling.

An incredibly powerful feeling.

Even more powerful than the desire that had kicked in when he’d realised that Charlotte had wanted him to kiss her as much as he’d wanted to kiss her?

Yes. Strangely, it was. He was used to desire and he knew there were countless women in the world who could make him feel like that.

But that other feeling was completely unfamiliar. And deeply disturbing. Powerful enough to feel like it had a life of its own and could take control. Was this what falling in love was all about?

Nico couldn’t answer that because he’d never been in this space before. He wasn’t capable of falling in love. He knew that. But maybe he was getting a glimpse of what it might be about.

And it was disturbing enough that he never wanted to experience it again so maybe it was time to take charge and make sure he wasn’t ambushed by any other strange emotions. The distraction of being a doctor for a little while was definitely helping. The fact that the train seemed to be coming to a halt was less helpful.

Had something happened? Maybe there was engine trouble or something on the tracks and he’d end up being on this train for a lot longer than expected. Just how long could he keep up the level of control he might need when he was sharing a compartment with Charlotte?

The steward, who’d been hovering outside the cabin while Nico treated Douglas, stooped to peer through the window. ‘We’re coming into Innsbruck,’ he announced. ‘I need to attend to other duties.’

Nico nodded. ‘Thanks very much for your help.’

‘I can put the AED away now?’

‘Yes. Thankfully, I don’t think we need it.’ Nico raised his eyebrows as the train jerked and came to a complete halt. ‘Why are we stopping?’

‘We have to change engines whenever we come to an international border. This is a thirty-minute stop and most people like to get off the train and stretch their legs a bit.’ The steward hurried off, probably to open doors and then to stand, looking very smart in his blue uniform, to give people another photo opportunity.

Douglas certainly wasn’t going to be jumping off the train to stretch his legs right now. Nico adjusted the setting on the oxygen cylinder and settled in to watch the progress of his new patient.

The contents of Lady Geraldine’s larger suitcase were spread out over the seat and hanging from the edges of the bunks as she chose her outfit for dinner.

‘The long black taffeta skirt,’ she decided. ‘With the black, silk camisole and the velvet bolero jacket.’

‘Very Gothic,’ Charlotte smiled. ‘Shall I do your hair so that you’ve got a bit of fringe covering one eye?’

‘Don’t be naughty, Charlotte Jane. The black is merely a canvas to show off my diamond jewellery. I’m going to need my necklace and the brooch that goes on the jacket. And I’ve got my bracelet and best rings in my jewellery case. Oh…we mustn’t forget that darling little tiara either. The one I wore last night, remember?’

‘How could I forget?’

Lady Geraldine eyed her granddaughter suspiciously. ‘I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, Charlotte. This is the dinner of my lifetime and I intend to look the part.’

‘Sorry, Gran.’ Charlotte kissed her fondly. ‘I want you to enjoy tonight as much as possible. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Did you have a good rest?’

‘I had a lovely rest. And then I had an even better time having afternoon tea with my old friend, Winsome. We still have lots to talk about.’

‘Maybe you’ll see her again after dinner.’

Oddly, Lady Geraldine looked evasive now. ‘Help me into my skirt, child. And then you’d better start doing something to get ready yourself. Fancy suggesting I wear my hair over my eye. Have you looked in a mirror recently? What have you and Nico been up to in your cabin?’

‘Gran…’ But Charlotte couldn’t help thinking about the look in Nico’s eyes just before the steward had interrupted them. About how much she had wanted that kiss to happen. Even now, the curl of desire the memory could evoke was enough to make her close her eyes for a heartbeat. To make her lips curl in pleasure at the memory.

If that kiss had happened, would it have stopped there? Would she have wanted it to? The bite of fear that kicked in was enough to make her shake her head as if she could banish the hateful sensation.

She needed to try and locate at least a shimmer of her old armour. To pretend to be in control. Normal. Maybe it would help to make a joke of it. ‘Have you seen the size of those bunks?’

‘You’re young,’ Lady Geraldine said with a smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll cope.’ She reached out and stroked Charlotte’s cheek. ‘Oh, darling. You’re so in love with him, aren’t you?’

Charlotte had to turn away. To find something solid to focus on as she felt the ground shifting beneath her feet with a curious spinning sensation. She lifted the hanger holding her grandmother’s astonishing skirt with the ruffled hem down from the top bunk and pretended to notice some lint that needed brushing away.

In love?

Ridiculous. Nobody fell in love that quickly. She felt safe with Nico, that was all. He knew more about her than anyone. More than her grandmother, in fact, in a rather significant area.

She liked him. A lot. Who wouldn’t? He was clever and kind. So kind that he’d sat, getting cramp, for hours, holding a woman in his arms because he hadn’t wanted to wake her?

She trusted him, too. Who couldn’t trust someone who put the kind of trust in you that led to sharing the kind of secret she could so well understand him wanting to keep to himself? Not that it was true, of course. Nico was more than capable of falling in love if he’d only let himself.

And that feeling when she’d woken up in those arms. As if she had been floating in the most blissful place on earth. She’d never felt so safe.

So protected.

Superimposed on that memory came that look of desire in Nico’s eyes when their lips had been drifting closer together in the moments before that rap on the door.

That mix of safety and desire was a chemical combination that could only mean one thing.

That…yes. She was in love with Nico Moretti.

No. Maybe it meant two things.

She was not only in love. She was in trouble.