The Playboy of Pengarroth Hall
Susanne James
His Lady of the Manor… Devastatingly desirable Sebastian Conway has a string of glamorous socialites at his beck and call – why would he ever want to settle down? But Sebastian is also the Conway heir, and duty demands he return to his family’s seat in Cornwall, the grand Pengarroth Hall estate…At an exclusive weekend gathering, Sebastian discovers pretty Fleur Richardson, who gets flustered at his every word. He’s beguiled. Maybe Fleur’s not so much potential mistress material as the future mistress of Pengarroth Hall – if only Sebastian can overcome his allergy to marriage…
‘Fleur—Fleur! What is it?’Sebastian strode right over tothe bed, and without a second’shesitation she sprang up into akneeling position and clutchedhim feverishly around the neck.
And with that human contact, feeling the comforting warmth of his bare chest against her flimsily clad form, she burst into tears.
Sebastian let her do it, saying not another word, but sitting down on the bed with her, his arms wrapped around her, his chin resting on the top of her head.
‘Hush, Fleur…it’s OK…you’re OK. I’m here…’ he murmured.
Afterwards, she couldn’t recall how long they’d stayed like that, but eventually she raised her eyes to look up at him. And then, as if it were the obvious, natural sequence of events, his mouth came down upon her lips. And the moist warmth of that brief union sent thrilling waves coursing down her spine… She didn’t pull away—she didn’t want to pull away. Because in a kind of wonder she found herself glowing at this intimate contact. Sebastian’s overt masculinity was making her feel desired, wanted, protected…
Susanne James has enjoyed creative writing since childhood, completing her first—sadly unpublished—novel by the age of twelve. She has three grown-up children who were, and are, her pride and joy, and who all live happily in Oxfordshire with their families. She was always happy to put the needs of her family before her ambition to write seriously, although along the way some published articles for magazines and newspapers helped to keep the dream alive!
Susanne’s big regret is that her beloved husband is no longer here to share the pleasure of her recent success. She now shares her life with Toffee, her young Cavalier King Charles spaniel, who decides when it’s time to get up (early) and when a walk in the park is overdue!
Recent titles by the same author:
THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE’S INNOCENT BRIDE
THE MILLIONAIRE’S CHOSEN BRIDE
THE BRITISH BILLIONAIRE AFFAIR
JED HUNTER’S RELUCTANT BRIDE
The Playboy of Pengarroth Hall
Susanne James
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
THE PLAYBOY OF PENGARROTH HALL
For Kathie,
a true friend.
CHAPTER ONE
THIS just had to be paradise, Fleur thought, as she trod her way carefully through the extensive grounds of Pengarroth Hall, her feet crunching through the undergrowth. A pale December sun filtering through the naked branches of the tall trees towering all around had not yet managed to thaw the dainty traces of frost glistening everywhere—but, if this was beautiful, what must spring and summer be like, with everything alive and in full leaf? the girl thought.
Finding the first gated entrance she’d come to locked, she had decided to walk, and had been going for some time before realizing that there had to be a more obvious route to the house than this. The path she’d started along had seemed established enough at first but had gradually petered out, but it was such a beautifully restful area in which to stroll, she’d decided to keep going just to enjoy being out of the car after her long drive from London and breathe in this fresh country air. She’d retrace her steps in a minute, she thought, and drive further on down the hill. Mia, the friend who’d invited her to spend Christmas here in the family home she shared with her brother, had been characteristically vague with her instructions.
“Just drive through the first big gate you come to,” she’d said airily. “You can’t miss it.”
A little later, and with a painful stab of anxiety, Fleur recognized the familiar prickling at the back of her neck which usually heralded one of her bouts of exhaustion, and she kicked herself for being an idiot. She knew that if she wanted to stay well, she had to take care of herself, and she knew she had been overdoing it in the run-up to Christmas. They’d been working late at the laboratory for the last two weeks, and today’s long drive to Cornwall hadn’t helped. It would have been better to have waited until tomorrow, Christmas Eve, before leaving London, but Mia had persuaded her to come a day early.
“None of the other guests will have arrived, and my darling brother won’t be there either, not until Christmas morning, so we’ll have the house to ourselves,” she’d enthused. “It’ll be like old times in the dorm!” The two girls had been at the same boarding school and had remained firm friends ever since, though this was the first time Fleur had visited Pengarroth Hall.
Spotting a flat tree trunk just in front of her, Fleur sat down on it gingerly—she knew she wouldn’t be able to stay there long because it was clearly very cold and damp, but it would do for her to rest there for just a few moments. She glanced at her watch—it was four o’clock already and starting to get dark—before closing her eyes briefly.
Suddenly, from out of nowhere and causing her to jump, a strong voice interrupted her thoughts.
‘Good afternoon. Can I help you?’
The enquiry was brusque, with no hint of Christmas cheer about it, and Fleur looked up quickly, scrambling to her feet. She was confronted by a tall man wearing a mud-smeared wax jacket and heavy boots—and a rather forbidding expression on what was clearly a very handsome face. A shotgun hung over his shoulder. His eyes were darkly penetrating as they stared down at her, and she couldn’t help feeling a tremor of apprehension—mixed with something else she was not going to acknowledge!—as she returned his gaze. Then she straightened her back, and she smiled—obviously this was the gamekeeper, or some other person employed at Pengarroth Hall.
‘I don’t need any help at all, thanks,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ve been enjoying a stroll in these wonderful woods, that’s all.’
He didn’t answer for a moment, unable to drag his gaze from the most delectable female features he’d seen in a long time. Then, ‘Well, you are on private property. This area is not open for walkers. The public right of way is much further back up the hill,’ he said bluntly. ‘The notice is clearly marked.’
Fleur bristled at this show of pomposity. There was no need to be quite so horrible about it, even if she had been trespassing which, as an invited guest, was not the case. She attempted a thin smile, irritated with him now and not wanting to reveal that she was going to be staying at the house, or that she was a long-time friend of one of the owners.
‘Oh, really?’ she said. ‘I really must be more careful where I put my size threes, mustn’t I.’ She glanced at the gun. ‘Do you shoot trespassers?’
His firm mouth twisted slightly at the question, and he pushed a damp stray lock of dark hair back from his forehead. ‘I’d better show you the way back in case you get lost. There are several different paths,’ he said.
Fleur stared at him coldly. She could rely on her own brain and sense of direction, thank you. She certainly didn’t want any favours from this surly individual. ‘Don’t bother yourself. I don’t need any guidance, thank you,’ she said tightly.
‘Well, daylight will be gone soon,’ he said. ‘Please make your way back to the road.’ He looked straight down into her cool green eyes before adding, ‘This section of the grounds is being restored—blight damage to some of the trees has meant considerable replanting, and we don’t want the new saplings to be disturbed by people tramping where they shouldn’t.’ Then he nodded briefly, turned around and walked away without another word.
Well, Fleur thought as she watched him disappearing through the gathering gloom, she’d give him ten out of ten for carrying out his duties. He’d certainly put her in her place. Say what you mean, and mean what you say—a man after her father’s heart, that was for sure! She shook her head briefly as she thought of her parents—Helen and Philip—who were, unusually, spending Christmas in Boston this year. She couldn’t remember a time when they’d not all spent the festive season together at home. But Professor Richardson, a renowned lecturer in mathematics, had seized an opportunity to mix business with pleasure, so the usual family plans had been changed.
She retraced her steps, making sure she was going the right way. It was obviously her own fault that she’d fallen foul of Mia’s vague directions, and she’d known almost straight away that the path she’d chosen was not the one which would lead to the house. But she’d thoroughly enjoyed her stroll in the woods—shame that she’d had to meet up with the dour groundsman and spoil it.
It was now practically dark by the time she got back to the car. No wonder the gate had been locked—it was a wonder that they hadn’t put coils of barbed wire all around it to keep everyone out!
Half a mile further down the hill, Pengarroth Hall came into view, and as Fleur approached she saw the gate which Mia had said she couldn’t miss. It was wide open and inviting and, making her way slowly up the curving drive to the front door, she felt a rush of renewed pleasure at the thought of being somewhere different, with different people, for the holiday. Mia had said she’d invited several other friends along as well.
“The only one you’ll have met before is Mandy,’ Mia had said on the phone. ‘Remember Mandy? She’s a real laugh.’
Oh, I remember Mandy, Fleur had thought, a total man-eater, but yes, she’d be fun.
‘All the others work with me at the office, but I promise not to allow any shop talk,’ Mia had said. Mia was employed by a very successful PR company in London—a far cry from Fleur’s research work in one of the city’s teaching hospitals. Although their lives had taken such different paths since school and university days, they had never lost touch, and it was Mia’s free and easy personal life, unconstrained by the wishes of demanding parents, that had caused Fleur many pangs of envy. Philip Richardson had had such plans for his only child—it had never occurred to him that she might have had some ambitions of her own. But, dutifully, Fleur had attained her science degree, as he’d directed, and was also careful not to introduce too many boyfriends to her parents. Not that her mother would have objected but, like Fleur, the woman was in thrall to the intellect and influence of the man in their lives, and both of them did their best not to cross him.
Now, in answer to the clanging of the ancient bell, the door was opened by a tall, rather straight-faced woman in her mid-fifties, Fleur guessed, but her broad smile was engaging enough as she introduced herself quickly.
‘Oh, hello. I’m Pat—I’m housekeeper here,’ she introduced herself.
‘Hi, I’m Fleur Richardson.’ Fleur smiled back.
‘Yes, I was told you’d be the only one arriving today. Do come in. You obviously found us all right.’ She stood aside as Fleur entered. ‘Mia’s washing her hair,’ she added. ‘I’ll tell her you’re here.’
As soon as she set foot in the place, Fleur knew that Pengarroth Hall was a home in every sense of the word. She was aware that the building was more than two hundred years old and had been owned by Mia’s family for four generations, but it felt beautifully warm, cosy and welcoming. The entrance hall where she was standing was enhanced by a gigantic Christmas tree, glistening with tinsel, baubles and lights, standing at the foot of the wide staircase. In the corner was a huge grandfather clock, along the walls were a couple of low sofas, a well-worn table with some daily papers scattered about and in another corner on a low armchair a very old black Labrador snoozed, its grey-whiskered jaws and body almost lost amongst the squashy folds of an ancient blue velvet cushion. When it became aware that Fleur was standing there, the animal opened one eye, took a long deep breath, then went back to sleep. Fleur couldn’t help smiling. How different all this was from her parents’ well-kept mid-thirties house in Surrey—to say nothing of her own smart London flat. But she felt almost embraced by the atmosphere here, and knew she was going to love every minute of the holiday.
Just then, Mia appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing only her bra and pants, her head swathed in a large white towel.
‘Hi-ya Fleur! Come on up—shan’t be a jiff. Isn’t this fun? I love Christmas!’
Happily, Fleur did as she was told, sitting on the edge of Mia’s bed as Mia began rubbing her hair briskly.
‘I hope you don’t mind sharing my room,’ Mia said breathlessly, ‘and I’m asking the others to share as well.’ She peered out from among the folds of the towel. ‘It’s not that there aren’t enough rooms to go around in this place, of course, but I didn’t like to give Pat all the extra work. And I know the boys won’t mind sharing—you’ll like them, Fleur. Gus and Tim are old friends in any case, and Rupert and Mat are really nice.’ She draped the towel over the back of a chair and reached for her hairdryer.
‘Of course I don’t mind sharing,’ Fleur said at once. ‘It’ll be like old times.’ She paused. ‘Your hair’s grown so long, Mia. I’ve never seen it like that.’
Mia was strikingly tall, and her dark brown hair, reaching well below her shoulders, made her seem even taller. Her hazel eyes twinkled.
‘Well, that’s Mat’s fault. He likes it this way,’ she said, switching on the dryer.
Fleur raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh? So Mat is—important—is he? The man of the moment?’
Mia smiled briefly. ‘Sort of,’ she said vaguely. ‘We’ve been going out for a bit—nothing too heavy. In fact, I thought it wise to mix him up with others for Christmas—before we both get carried away.’ She paused. ‘What about you—anyone special on the scene?’ She raised her voice slightly above the noise of the dryer.
‘No, there isn’t,’ Fleur replied flatly. And probably never will be, she could have added, but didn’t. Mia shot her an understanding glance, but said nothing. She knew that Fleur’s father had always discouraged his daughter from having relationships. ‘Don’t waste your intelligence and education on marriage and children,’ was his frequent advice to his daughter. ‘There’s plenty of time for that.’
‘Well, let me remind you that next year we’re both going to be twenty-seven,’ Mia said, somewhat ruefully. ‘Not that our biological clocks are running out exactly, but time does seem to be on wheels, doesn’t it?’ She switched off the dryer for a second and sighed. ‘I love the idea of marriage and a family, but finding the right partner seems an impossible task. As soon as I get to know someone, really get to know how he ticks, I lose interest.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘It’s obviously all my fault.’ She waited a second before going on. ‘Has there been anyone special since you and Leo split up?’
Fleur shrugged, looking away. ‘No, not really. A few of us from work get together fairly regularly for drinks or a night out somewhere, but I always go home alone, like the good girl that I am.’ Her lip curled slightly as she made that remark. Looking back on her time with Leo, when they’d meant so much to each other, she couldn’t believe, now, that she’d allowed her father to come between them. But in the three years that had elapsed since that time, she’d come to realize that it had all been for the best, after all. Because she’d become utterly convinced that marriage was not for her. She would never risk being in the position which her mother had occupied all her life—to be subservient, having to fall in with every wish of her husband’s. Although Fleur acknowledged that he was basically a good man, he had totally domineered his wife—and his daughter—because there was only one opinion that mattered: his own. And he could never accept that he might sometimes be wrong, or that others might be right. With her reasoning, analytical, intellect, Fleur know that it was fundamentally wrong for one human being—whoever he was—to always have his own way, and that she would never put up with that state of affairs.
She got up and went over to the window, gazing out across the garden and the woods beyond.
Mia, sensing her sudden sadness, said cheerfully, ‘Well, unfortunately for the rest of us, when we were all young and innocent, you were the one that the guys all fancied, and we were very jealous, I can tell you. I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay single for so long, Fleur Richardson, I really don’t.’
It was true that Fleur had always been attractive to men, her dainty figure and heart-shaped face dominated by thickly lashed large green eyes crying out for attention and admiration. Plus those two other seductive characteristics—a high intelligence coupled with a teasingly vulnerable nature making men automatically feel protective towards her.
‘Oh, there’s nothing to it—staying single, I mean,’ Fleur replied. ‘Just keep your head down and go on working. There’s always—always—stuff waiting to be done in the lab. Stuff that can’t wait.’ Besides,’ she added, ‘in my experience, men always seem to need to be in control all the time…and I want to be in control of my own life, thanks very much.’
‘Some of them do,’ Mia agreed, ‘but there are ways of dealing with that. A little feminine cunning and you can often bring them around to your way of thinking.’
‘Hmm,’ Fleur said. ‘If you say so. But I can do without the hassle. If I’ve only got myself to please, there’s no emotional conflict. And I like a quiet life, I’m afraid.’
‘Oh, there’s going to be someone out there, somewhere, who’ll change your mind one of these days,’ Mia said, ‘you mark my words.’ Her shrewd eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced over at Fleur, and she thought how fragile the girl looked—fragile and pale. She also seemed to have lost weight, which she could not afford to do.
Fleur turned, shrugging. ‘We’ll see,’ she said lightly. There was a pause. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve not been very well lately, Mia. I’ve completely lost my appetite and I’m tired all the time. The doctor mentioned “stress”—how I hate that word—but I have agreed to take a longer than normal Christmas break, so I’m not due back to work until mid-January.’
‘Well, why not stay on longer here, then?’ Mia said at once. ‘All the others are going back the day after Boxing Day, but I’m not returning to London until the second of January… We’ll have some lovely extra time together. It’ll do you good to be here in the peace and quiet, and Pat will love looking after you, spoiling you. And if her cooking can’t bring your appetite back to life, no one’s can. You’ve not made other plans, have you? Haven’t got to go back to the parents for some TLC?’
‘No, I haven’t promised anything,’ Fleur said quickly. ‘I…haven’t said anything to them about not feeling well lately… I don’t want any fuss…’
‘Well then, stay here and relax. Read. Walk. Watch telly. Stay in bed till mid-morning if you like. No one to please but yourself—that is what you want, isn’t it?’
‘Sounds wonderful,’ Fleur said slowly, ‘but I couldn’t outstay my welcome like that, Mia—I’d feel awful having someone to wait on me, prepare my meals…’
‘I’m telling you—Pat will be ecstatic,’ Mia assured her. ‘It’s a funny old life for her, really, looking after a big house that’s got no one in it, sometimes for weeks on end.’ She finished drying her hair and opened her wardrobe, peering inside. ‘What to wear, what to wear,’ she muttered to herself, before selecting jeans and a chunky woolen jumper. ‘We must bring in all your stuff from the car,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘and then I’ll leave you alone for an hour to settle in.’ She smiled. ‘It’s going to be just the two of us until tomorrow evening, so we can have a good old gossipy natter.’ She pulled her still damp hair free from the high neck of her jumper, and picked up her hairbrush. ‘I only got home myself a couple of hours ago,’ she added. ‘Hasn’t Pat made the tree look fantastic? That woman really is a treasure.’
‘She doesn’t live in all the time, then?’ Fleur asked.
‘Oh, no, only when one of us, or some friends, are here. She lives in one of the estate cottages with her mother, but the two of them make sure everything’s OK while the house is unoccupied. My brother is regularly away, working for a law firm who engage him on a part-time basis—of course, he’s the one in charge of the estate now that our parents aren’t here any more.’ Mia stopped brushing her hair for a second, biting her lip.
Fleur said quickly, ‘It must be difficult for him, juggling work and the estate. I don’t expect he thought he’d have to take over here quite so soon.’
‘He certainly didn’t. Neither of us did,’ Mia said. ‘For both our parents to die so unexpectedly, four years ago, before either of them had reached sixty, was a dreadful shock.’
‘I know,’ Fleur said sympathetically. She had never met Mia’s parents, or her brother, but knew all about them from her friend.
‘And it dropped Pengarroth Hall prematurely right into Seb’s lap,’ Mia said. ‘He was only thirty, and enjoying his life in London—rather too much, in some people’s opinion! But my playboy brother had to grow up some time—to the disappointment of the party crowd and his many lady friends. I don’t think he was best pleased. Still—’ she brightened up quickly, as Mia always did, whatever the circumstances ‘—he’s got used to it. And it pleases Gran. She and Gramps loved Pengarroth Hall—where they lived too, of course, for most of their lives.’
‘Goodness—is your grandmother still alive?’ Fleur asked.
‘You bet!’ Mia said. ‘And we both visit her often. As a matter of fact, I believe she was a bit of a girl-about-town in her youth, when she met my grandfather. And she still loves being in the big city, where she lives in the most amazing flat. She’s in her mid-eighties now, but she’s got a large circle of friends… They go to the theatre, out to meals, play bridge regularly. There’s no stopping her. But she loves to think that Pengarroth Hall is still in the family. Worships Sebastian, of course. He’s the golden boy.’
‘She’s not coming here for Christmas?’ Fleur asked.
‘We couldn’t persuade her,’ Mia replied. ‘Especially when she knew there’d be a crowd of us in residence. Said she’d rather spend it with her own friends, and leave us to ours. She always spends a couple of months here in the summer, though.’
‘She sounds a lot of fun,’ Fleur said wistfully, thinking what a solitary sort of life she had led, with no siblings and never having known her grandparents, or any other family members.
‘She’s fantastic,’ Mia said breezily. ‘We love her to bits.’
Going downstairs to collect Fleur’s belongings from the car, Mia stopped to pat the sleeping dog’s head as they went by.
‘Poor old Benson,’ she said softly. ‘He’s so old now, snoozes most of the time, but Sebastian won’t have another dog on the premises, not until Benson has popped his clogs. Says this is Benson’s territory.’ She rubbed the dog’s nose with her forefinger. ‘Anyway, Frank, our groundsman, has enough to do without having a young animal to train.’
Fleur made a face. ‘I think I met Frank earlier,’ she said, ‘and was roundly told off for trespassing. I came in at the wrong gate—the upper one—by mistake.’
‘Oh, you mad woman!’ Mia said. ‘But I’m a bit scatty with directions so that was probably my fault. Why—what did he say?’
‘More or less told me to clear off and to be more observant in future and follow appropriate signs.’
Mia giggled. ‘He can be a bossy boots and rather short-tempered,’ she said, ‘but he’s worth his weight in gold. Seb relies on him totally when he’s not here. And of course when visitors come to shoot game in the autumn, Frank runs everything.’
Later, when she was alone, Fleur unpacked and, taking the hint from her friend, changed into jeans and a green jumper that did marvelous things for her eyes and brushed her hair back into a ponytail. Then she wiped off all her make-up before moisturizing her skin. It felt so good not to have to bother about looking immaculate and put aside her heels for the evening. She suddenly felt upbeat, looking forward to a cosy evening with one of her best friends. Then, slipping her bare feet into her Uggs, she left the room and went downstairs, almost colliding with Pat at the bottom.
‘Oh, there you are,’ the woman said. ‘Mia’s just dashed down the road to deliver some Christmas presents. Go into the sitting room—the one there on the left. I’ll bring you some tea in a few minutes.’
Fleur wandered along the hallway to the room which had been indicated, going straight over to the huge fireplace, where some logs were burning brightly in the grate. This holiday had all the elements of a real Dickensian Christmas, she thought, feeling thrilled all over again that she was a guest here. The large room was comfortably—though not opulently—furnished, with sofas and armchairs, none of which were new. The carpet, though worn, felt soft under her feet and she kicked off her Uggs as she sat down on the armchair nearest to the fire. Leaning her head back contentedly, she closed her eyes. She could get used to this, she thought dreamily, this serenity, this feeling of well-being. Perhaps—perhaps she could allow herself to be persuaded to take Mia up on the offer to stay on for a while longer…just so long as she was certain she wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. Perhaps for an extra week, she thought, wiggling her bare toes in front of the flames, a delightful drowsiness beginning to seep over her.
After a few moments, something made her open her eyes and with a start she found herself staring up into the familiar face she’d seen before today. The groundsman stood there, wearing well-cut jeans and dark polo shirt, one hand thrust casually into his pocket. He was obviously very much at home here, Fleur thought instinctively. She smiled faintly.
‘Oh…hello,’ she said non-committally, nestling back down into the chair. ‘We meet again.’ She hoped he would feel a slight pang of conscience when he remembered his curt behaviour earlier, especially when it was obvious that she was a guest.
His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her appearance, noting the willowy figure and unblemished skin devoid of artifice, but, before he could say a word, Mia breezed into the room—stopping short as she saw him standing there.
‘Seb! What on earth are you doing here?’
‘I do live here from time to time, remember,’ he said, going towards her and giving her a bear hug. ‘Hi, Mia.’
‘Yes—but you said you wouldn’t be home until Christmas morning,’ Mia protested. ‘What made you change your mind?’
‘It was changed for me—but I can’t be bothered to explain,’ he replied. ‘Why—does it matter?’
‘No, of course not. You just took me by surprise, that’s all. And Pat didn’t tell me, either.’
‘Because she didn’t know until half an hour ago. I didn’t see her at lunch time when I arrived, and then I took myself off straight away to look around the estate while it was still light. It’s Frank’s day off today.’ He paused. ‘Still, I’m here now. Hope my presence hasn’t ruined your plans too much.’
‘Idiot,’ Mia said fondly. ‘Course not.’ She went over to Fleur, whose colour had risen perceptibly, and who suddenly wanted to kick herself. This was not Frank the groundsman, this was Sebastian Conway! What a stupid assumption to have made!
‘Have you two introduced yourselves?’ Mia asked. ‘Fleur—this is my gorgeous brother, and this, Sebastian, is one of my very best friends, Fleur Richardson.’
Fleur stood up then, slowly, wishing she could just disappear, but Sebastian came across and held out a strong hand, gripping hers firmly. He looked down at her, his thoughtful black eyes glinting in the firelight.
‘We have met before, haven’t we,’ he murmured. Then, ‘You really should have said who you were.’
Mia looked bewildered. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded.
Fleur looked at her helplessly. ‘This was the man I thought was…Frank…’ she began, and Mia burst out laughing.
‘Oh, Seb! Fleur told me you were horrible to her, accusing her of trespassing! How could you?’
‘If I’d known she was one of your guests, I would have said nothing, but escorted her back to her car and directed her to the house,’ he said. ‘It’s just that Frank is very protective of all the new saplings—for which I’m grateful to him—and I was out checking up on them when we… er…Fleur and I…came across each other.’
‘Well, allow me to apologize for my earlier misdemeanour.’ Fleur smiled, trying to sound more relaxed than she felt at that precise moment.
‘And I offer mine for running you off,’ he said equably.
Just then, Pat came in with a tray of tea. She smiled as she set the things down on a low table. ‘It’s great to have folk about the place for a change,’ she exclaimed, standing back and looking from one to another happily. ‘Supper will be ready in forty-five minutes,’ she added as she left.
As the three of them sat drinking their tea and chatting, Fleur was painfully aware of Sebastian’s long legs stretched out in front of him, of his powerful frame and strong features. This was a man to be reckoned with, she thought. A man used to getting his own way. A man who liked to be in control. Who would always expect to be in control.
And Sebastian, as he listened to his sister’s high-spirited account of what she’d been up to since they’d last been together, was making judgements of his own. For once, this particular friend of Mia’s—and he’d met a few—didn’t fall into the normal category he’d come to expect. She wasn’t lowering her eyes at him, or exhibiting the kind of come-on tactics that were all too familiar. She was undeniably very attractive—and, from her self-deprecating description of the research work she was engaged in, unusually clever. But she displayed an oddly distant attitude which he found disconcerting. She was not aloof exactly, but there was a wistful coolness about her that he confessed to finding distinctly intriguing. He stood up quickly and went across to the cabinet to pour some drinks.
CHAPTER TWO
‘THAT really was the best Christmas I’ve ever, ever had,’ Fleur said as she and Mia helped Pat to clear up in the kitchen. Pat, with assistance from Beryl, her mother, had produced the most amazing food all over the holiday, and now, with everyone else having just departed, it was time to wind down from the festivities.
‘I don’t think I’ll want another thing to eat—not until tomorrow, anyway!’ Mia joked. ‘You really are fantastic, Pat—thank you so much for all your hard work. I’m still dribbling after that goose!’
‘Well, you know I always look forward to you and Sebastian being home,’ Pat said, spreading some tea towels to dry, ‘and all your friends were very appreciative. No one left anything on their plates, anyway,’ she added. ‘Always a good sign.’
Mia glanced at Fleur, thinking how easily she had fitted in with everyone else, and how she’d seemed to enjoy all the festive food—despite her apparent lack of appetite.
‘Yes, everyone enjoyed themselves thoroughly,’ Mia said. ‘We might do it all over again next year!’ She giggled. ‘Mandy’s such a naughty girl, though, isn’t she? She told me that she’d intended seducing Sebastian this time—she’s tried before—hoping that the spirit of Christmas, or Christmas spirits, might make him fall for her charms.’
‘Hmm, some hopes,’ Pat snorted. ‘Sebastian is much too clever for antics like that. And I don’t blame him either.’ Pat had known the family for too long not to feel quite comfortable about expressing her opinions. ‘Especially in view of…you know…’ Her voice trailed off.
‘Yes, you’re right, Pat. Poor old Seb…’ Mia began, pulling out a chair to sit down.
‘What’s the matter with poor old Seb?’ he demanded as he came into the kitchen.
‘Oh, I was just saying how incorrigible Mandy is,’ Mia said hurriedly. ‘Flirting outrageously with all the guys—including you, Seb. Or didn’t you even notice?’
Sebastian merely grinned at that, and Mia went on, ‘Not that you showed your face much anyway; we hardly saw anything of you.’
It was true that he’d been rather conspicuous by his absence, Fleur thought as she glanced up at him briefly. He’d apparently spent Christmas Eve with friends in the area, not coming home until the small hours, but had joined them for the main Christmas Day meal and for supper again on Boxing Day. But he’d seemed to prefer leaving the eight of them to enjoy themselves without him—and Fleur couldn’t blame him. They were all just that few years younger than him, and she’d noticed that sometimes their chatter and alcohol-fuelled banter had appeared to bore him. Her eyes narrowed briefly. He was sort of…mysterious… in a way, she thought. Certainly not your normal run-of-the-mill handsome bachelor. The only woman he seemed to have eyes for was his sister—who he clearly adored. But Fleur couldn’t help wondering what he thought about her. She’d noticed him glance at her speculatively from time to time, but he didn’t seem to like—or dislike—her. She was, after all, just another of his sister’s friends, who he seemed to tolerate but, as Mia was entitled to invite whoever she wanted to, he’d have to put up with it.
By now, it was late afternoon and already darkening outside, and Fleur suddenly felt a need to get out into the open air. Although they’d all gone for short walks once or twice during the holiday—keeping strictly to the paths which Sebastian had recommended—most of the time had been spent eating, drinking, dozing, watching films and telling ghost stories.
‘I’d love to go for a walk, Mia,’ she said, looking down at her friend, who was lounging back in her chair lazily. ‘Just for half an hour…can we?’
‘Oh, Fleur…count me out!’ Mia begged. ‘Tramping about in soggy undergrowth is the last thing on my mind. But—hey, Seb will go with you—he’ll protect you from all the wild animals out there. Won’t you, Seb?’
Fleur felt a huge wave of embarrassment sweep over her. ‘No! There’s no need for that… It doesn’t matter, really,’ she said quickly. ‘It’s just me being silly. Forget it.’
‘No need to forget it,’ Sebastian said casually. ‘But we must go now while there’s still some light.’ He glanced at her. He’d already observed her obvious stylish dress sense, and on Christmas evening, as they’d all sat around the candle-lit table, her simple black low-necked dress and the fine gold chain around her neck had, in his opinion, set her apart from everyone else. ‘You’d better dress warmly—you brought some walking boots with you, I hope.’
Well, that sounded a bit headmasterly, Fleur thought, but still—presumably he had her best interests at heart. ‘Oh, yes—Mia warned me that I’d need them,’ she said. She went towards the door. ‘I’ll get a thicker sweater and a waterproof. Shan’t be a minute.’
As soon as she’d gone, Mia said, ‘Seb, I want you to do me a big, big favour—’ and he interrupted.
‘Not another one. What’s it this time?’
‘It’s not for me, personally,’ Mia replied. ‘It’s just that… well…Fleur is going to stay on for a bit—about ten days—after I’ve gone back. Pat has kindly agreed to look after her for me, so that’s no problem…’
‘It’ll be a pleasure,’ Pat said, as she finally emptied the dishwasher. ‘I like your friend, Mia—she was always the first to offer to help us out.’
‘What’s it got to do with me?’ Sebastian demanded.
‘I want you to kind of…well…take her under your wing while she’s here. You said you weren’t going back to London until the end of the month, and…’
‘What exactly does “taking her under my wing” involve?’ Sebastian said resignedly.
‘Oh, nothing much, you know…just be nice—be around to share the occasional meal with her, maybe show her the area, take her down to the pub…’ She paused. ‘I’m worried about her. She’s lost weight since I last saw her, and I know she doesn’t sleep too well. A bit of a holiday here will do her the world of good, but she will need some company now and again and you’re just the man.’
‘Now, look Mia…’ Sebastian began.
She said at once, ‘Oh, don’t worry, Seb, it’s not what you’re thinking. I wouldn’t dream of trying my hand at the matchmaking game. Never again. Not with you or anyone else. I’ve learned my lesson in that department.’
‘I should think so too, and I’m very glad to hear it,’ he said flatly. It had been another “best friend” of his sister’s—she seemed to have so many—who, not so long ago, he’d become engaged to, which had turned out to be a total disaster. And since then he’d hardly looked at another woman, no longer seeming to need female company. Not in any serious sense. And that worried him slightly.
‘In any case,’ Mia went on, ‘Fleur is not on the market, so you can relax. She’s not interested in tying herself down to any man, so you’re quite safe. I guarantee it.’ She sighed. ‘I feel so sorry for her, that’s all. Despite all her outward success and although ostensibly she’s a free woman, she seems sort of…trapped…as if she can’t break free to be really happy. It must be dreadful to feel like that.’ Mia made a face as she thought about it.
‘Well, I don’t mind being civil, if that’s what you mean,’ Sebastian said shortly, ‘but don’t expect me to provide non-stop entertainment for her, will you? I’ve got four weeks to catch up on things here before I’m due back in London, and I’ve got appointments in Truro with the surveyor and the accountant…but…’ he paused ‘…yes, all right, I’ll arrange to be here for some of the time to hold your friend’s hand—if that’s what you want.’
Mia smiled up at him. ‘You don’t need to go that far,’ she said demurely, ‘and Fleur won’t thank you for getting close enough to hold her hand, either. Just be your darling self and keep her company now and then, that’s all I’m asking. You’ll be just the tonic I think she needs.’
Fleur, about to go back into the kitchen, had paused outside the door just long enough to overhear most of what had been said…and she froze, horrified. The last thing in the world she wanted was to be a burden to anyone—certainly not to the somewhat austere Sebastian! How could Mia put him—put them both—in such an awkward and embarrassing position? But what could be done about it now? She could hardly burst in and tell them she’d heard his reluctant reply to Mia’s request—or even say that she’d changed her mind and wasn’t going to stay after all. What excuse could she give? She’d already accepted the invitation, and Pat had been so touchingly pleased. Fleur bit her lip, feeling her cheeks flood with colour as she stood there. It was obvious that Sebastian saw her as an unwelcome intrusion into his busy life, and that was the last thing she’d envisaged when she’d accepted Mia’s suggestion. Then common sense prevailed, and she took a deep breath. There was a simple way out of this, she thought. She’d stay a day or two after Mia had gone before inventing a telephone call telling her to return early. It could be about something important in the lab that needed her input. That was it—no need to panic, after all, she told herself.
She opened the door and went inside, and Sebastian clicked his fingers for the dog to get up from the floor.
‘We’ll take Benson with us,’ he said, ‘as we shan’t be going too far. A short walk won’t tire him too much.’
Outside, it was much colder than Fleur had thought, and she turned up the collar of her jacket. Sebastian glanced down at her briefly.
‘We can always go back if you find you’re not enjoying this,’ he said casually.
‘No, it’s fine. I’d like to walk,’ Fleur said, not looking at him. ‘But…I’m perfectly all right by myself if you’ve things to do. I know this path because we all walked this way yesterday, and Benson will keep me company.’
‘Oh, Mia would kill me if I abandoned you,’ he said.
They walked in silence for a few minutes and, although it was certainly wet and soggy—as Mia had predicted—there was something magical about their surroundings…the magic Fleur had felt when she’d arrived at the beginning of her stay, and it made her say suddenly, ‘It must be wonderful to be able to wander in these enchanted woods whenever you want to…’ She hesitated. ‘Mia told me that you work part-time in London, but…how often do you get down here? You must hate having to go back to town.’
He thought about that for a moment. Then, ‘Sometimes I do,’ he admitted, ‘but, in any case, the time is coming when I shall have to part company with the firm I work for and live here permanently. It’s getting more and more difficult to stretch myself between the two places.’
Something in his tone of voice made Fleur look up quickly. ‘Will you mind that?’ she asked quietly.
‘I’m getting used to the idea,’ he said. ‘Of course, I knew it would come to an end one day, but I never expected it to happen quite so soon.’ He paused. ‘I’ve made a lot of friends in London that, with the best will in the world, I’ll eventually lose touch with. It’s inevitable. I’ll be well and truly buried down here for keeps. I’ve just got to accept it.’
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. ‘It’s very annoying—to say the least—when your life is planned out for you,’ Fleur began, and he interrupted.
‘You sound as if you speak from experience,’ he said, and she smiled up at him quickly.
‘Well, in a way I do,’ she said. ‘Not that I have been given the responsibility of having to hold the reins of a large family estate, nothing like that, but…’
‘Go on,’ he said, wanting to know more.
‘It’s just that, well, I had my own plans for what I wanted to do with my life but my father had other ideas.’ She paused. ‘He persuaded me…’ she didn’t utter the more truthful word insisted ‘…that my true vocation was in the sciences, and that with my “exceptional brain”—his words, not mine—I had a duty to use it for the good of others. So that’s why I’m in medical research.’ She shook her head briefly. ‘I enjoy the work—of course I do—it’s fulfilling and very exciting when we make any sort of breakthrough. But such a lot of it is painstaking and repetitive and often very disappointing.’ She looked up at him again. ‘So there you are—that’s my life sorted out for me. And I had such ideas of my own. Probably ridiculous when I really think about it.’
He grinned back at her and for the first time Fleur saw his heart-stopping smile, a smile enlivened by immaculate, strong white teeth. ‘Go on—I’m waiting for the punch-line,’ he said.
Fleur sighed, looking away. ‘I always imagined myself as an opera singer,’ she said, almost apologetically. ‘I realize that it was probably an impossible dream—the professional stage is overwhelmingly competitive, and luck is such a huge factor. But it would have been good to at least have tried.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Not that luck is my second name—I mean, I never win anything, never win raffles or anything that relies on chance. Some people win things all the time.’
‘Yes, they do,’ he agreed. ‘Actually, I do win things now and then.’ He didn’t bother to add that in the circles he mixed in he was constantly asked to purchase massively priced tickets for good causes and that he always obliged, very generously. Which probably increased his chances. ‘But do go on,’ he said. ‘You’ve obviously had musical training?’
‘Oh, yes—I was allowed that,’ Fleur said, a slight trace of bitterness in her tone. ‘I achieved all my grades up to the point where I should have gone on to gain higher qualifications…then the paternal foot was well and truly put down. So—’ she sighed ‘—as you so rightly said, it’s hard to do two things at once. In my case, impossible.’ She shrugged. ‘So I content myself with enjoying music at a distance, as a listener and a devoted member of numerous audiences. And singing along with my CDs. When I was still living at home, that was how I learned all the famous arias, making sure that my father was never around when I was doing it. He would not have approved!’
The tangible note of regret in her voice made Sebastian’s brow crease slightly. That didn’t sound fair, he thought. ‘Well, in a way, our situations are not dissimilar,’ he said. ‘We’ve both ended up doing what others have decided we should. Although—’ he smiled down at her again ‘—in my case it was the hand of fate that merely hastened my inevitable destiny.’ He hesitated. ‘But it’s not too late for you, is it? You could change the course of things, couldn’t you?’
Fleur chuckled. ‘My father would never forgive me if I did that,’ she exclaimed. ‘And he would make me feel so guilty if I gave up my career to pursue such a dramatically different path. Which, in his view, would be a very flippant one. I mean, you don’t save lives by singing songs, do you? He has no time for music and rarely listens to any. But my mother does—though she doesn’t often play the piano any more because it disturbs my father when he’s working.’ She shook her head. ‘No, it is much too late for me now, Sebastian.’
With a little jolt of surprise, Fleur realized that that was the first time she had called him by name…but the easy conversation had seemed to put them on a more comfortable footing.
By this time they’d walked on quite a bit further than Sebastian had intended, and he glanced at the dog, who was padding rather forlornly behind them.
‘I think we ought to go back now,’ he said. ‘Benson’s had enough and we shan’t be able to see a thing in a minute, though I did bring my torch.’
Fleur smiled up at him. ‘We don’t want to tire Benson out, but I could carry on like this for hours!’
Yes, I believe she could, Sebastian thought. Even though she was obviously more used to being in town, Fleur had a definite affinity with the countryside, had picked her own way over the pits, humps and bumps of the terrain without any help from him. He hadn’t once felt the need to put his hand under her elbow, or steady her as they’d made their way. Perhaps she wasn’t as fragile as she looked.
When she knew that their walk was coming to an end, Fleur made a sudden decision—thanks to the rather unexpected familiarity which seemed to have developed between them. Keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead, she said lightly, ‘By the way, Sebastian, you needn’t worry that I’m going to get in the way of your plans while I’m here.’ She hesitated. ‘And I’m…sorry…that Mia has put you in the unenviable position of being my “minder”. But I assure you that I am very used to looking out for myself. I do it all the time, because I live alone.’ Now she did look up to find his searching eyes—black and intense and clearly visible, even in the gloom—staring right into hers. ‘It was wrong of Mia to expect anything from you where I’m concerned—anything at all—I certainly don’t. It’s extremely kind of you—of both of you—to invite me to stay, and I don’t anticipate being bored. I can never remember being bored, in any situation,’ she added. She smiled. ‘I shall explore the area thoroughly, and lock it all into my memory so that when I get home I can relive it. And you must just…just pretend that I’m not here.’
Sebastian was ready to admit that it would be hard to follow that instruction! Fleur Richardson was the first woman for a very long time to excite his interest. But, although it was patently clear that the conversation with his sister had been overheard, it didn’t worry him in the least. He was seldom embarrassed or fazed by anything any more.
‘Isn’t there a man at home who’ll be gasping for your return?’ he asked bluntly.
Fleur smiled at that. ‘No,’ she said simply. ‘No, there isn’t.’
His rather peremptory enquiry made Fleur feel that she could ask a similar question. What was sauce for the goose…
‘And you?’ she asked coolly. ‘Don’t you have a lady ready to be mistress of Pengarroth Hall?’
‘Don’t bother to ask,’ he replied, his mouth tightening at the thought.
Just before they stepped into the pool of light shining from the house, they both automatically slowed in their tracks, as if neither of them wanted to bring this particular time to an end, and standing closer to her now, closer than he had during their walk, Sebastian looked down at her.
‘I do have things to do during January,’ he said, ‘but I’m also due for some time off. So…as Mia has told me I must, it will give me great pleasure to spend some of it with you. And, because I always obey my sister’s wishes, I will take you under my wing—and you must try and enjoy it. Because,’ he said patiently, ‘that’s what Mia wants us to do.’ He smiled down at her then, a crooked, knowing smile that made Fleur’s knees tremble slightly.
Well, he seemed to have cleared the air without any dif ficulty, Fleur thought, feeling strangely relieved. He obviously believed in coming straight to the point in any situation. But, whatever he said, she’d make herself scarce most of the time she was at Pengarroth Hall. There was certainly no need for him to add her name to his list of commitments!
CHAPTER THREE
MIA lay quite still, watching Fleur’s sleeping form in the bed opposite her. Frowning momentarily, Mia wondered how her friend would really manage to enjoy herself when she, Mia, had returned to London. It would naturally feel very different at Pengarroth Hall without her, Mia realized, and although Sebastian had said he’d ‘look after’ Fleur—as much as his work would allow—would that be enough to keep her happily occupied? Not to mention the fact that Seb could be an unknown quantity at times.
As if she knew she was being watched, Fleur suddenly opened her eyes and smiled, turning to lie on her back and stretching her arms above her head. ‘Morning,’ she said sleepily.
‘D’you know what the time is?’ Mia enquired and, without waiting for a reply, added, ‘It’s gone ten-thirty.’ But she was genuinely pleased that Fleur seemed so much more relaxed and was definitely sleeping better than when she’d first arrived.
Fleur sat up then, hugging her knees. ‘Well, we were very late to bed, weren’t we?’ she said, yawning. ‘I’ve never spent New Year’s Eve in a country pub before, with everyone so friendly and singing along…’ She paused. ‘You and Sebastian knew almost everyone there.’
‘Quite a few,’ Mia agreed. ‘Like us, some return home for holidays and the festive season, so we meet up then. But it’s all very uncomplicated and informal.’
‘I thought it was great,’ Fleur said appreciatively, ‘and I’ve never been kissed by so many complete strangers in my life when the twelve o’clock chimes rang out!’ She didn’t bother to mention that Sebastian hadn’t joined in with that part of the proceedings—not that she could see, anyway—he certainly had not kissed her! But, even in that large, milling crowd, he had stood head and shoulders above most of them and had looked very debonair, casually dressed, his black hair sleek and shining with health.
‘Oh, that only happens on this one night of the year,’ Mia said, ‘when everyone goes a bit crazy. I wouldn’t like you to have the wrong impression of our neighbours, or our lifestyles!’ She threw back her duvet and went across to the window, drawing back the curtains. ‘Oh, look—there’s been a really heavy frost again…everything looks so pretty.’ She paused. ‘And there’s my brother, with Benson.’ She yawned loudly. ‘Seb’s always up and about at the crack of dawn—I wonder if he ever goes to bed at all.’
‘You and Sebastian are very close, aren’t you,’ Fleur said enviously. ‘I wish I’d had a brother—or a sister.’
‘Hmm,’ Mia said. ‘Seb and I have always got on brilliantly, it’s true, but I think the age gap between us sometimes makes him feel responsible for me. Too responsible. He has played the heavy-handed head of the house once or twice—which can be extremely annoying—and with which I am not well pleased, I can tell you.’
‘Oh?’ Fleur said, not altogether surprised. Even though Sebastian seemed very tolerant and affectionate towards Mia, she could imagine him playing the dominant male when he felt like it. ‘Why—what happened?’
‘Oh, it was over relationships, of course…I used to feel he was vetting my boyfriends all the time, but the big crunch came over Andrew… You remember Andy? You met him once or twice, didn’t you… About four years ago, it was.’
‘I did,’ Fleur said at once. ‘He was a real charmer, and I thought he was the one for you. I was staggered when that all fell apart.’
‘Yes, well, it fell apart because my big brother found things out about him and confronted him about it…in my flat! It was the most embarrassing, hurtful night of my life!’ She shuddered. ‘In Seb’s defence, he had tried several times to warn me, privately, but of course I wouldn’t hear a word against Andy. Wouldn’t believe it. So in the end the whole wretched business was brought right into my sitting room! And Andy couldn’t deny any of it! I thought I was going to die at the time, but of course I didn’t,’ she added cheerfully.
‘Another woman?’ Fleur said, curiosity overcoming her normal reluctance to pry into other people’s affairs.
‘Oh, nothing as simple as that,’ Mia said, reaching for her dressing gown. ‘No, it turned out that Andy was engaged in financial skullduggery—big time. Sebastian had obviously decided to make some enquiries, and he dug out some real dirt, I can tell you. And I was as mad as hell that my brother had interfered in my life… I felt I should be allowed to make my own mistakes. But, of course, every single thing he’d found out about Andy proved to be true—and if I’d had my own way I might be visiting my husband in jail by now!’ She grimaced. ‘I am grateful to Seb—but I didn’t see it quite like that at the time.’ She turned to look at Fleur. ‘And the last remark Andy made to me was that he’d make damned sure his next woman didn’t have a hard-nosed, interfering lawyer for a brother!’
‘Where’s Andrew now?’ Fleur wanted to know.
‘Oh, disappeared to Spain or somewhere, I believe…no doubt carrying on his nefarious exercises undetected—for the moment. Seb never took it further—as he said, he’s not a member of the police force. All he wanted was Andrew out of my life. And in that he was very successful indeed!’
Even though it had clearly been very fortunate for Mia that her boyfriend’s activities had been exposed before it was too late, Fleur could readily understand how her friend would have felt. And it confirmed Fleur’s impression of Sebastian. A force to be reckoned with and a force not easily deterred. Like someone else she knew!
‘I am going to be very jealous thinking of you here, just lazing around,’ Mia said, changing the subject. ‘Though I do hope the days won’t drag for you, Fleur.’
Fleur got out of bed as well then, and went across to join Mia. ‘Don’t give that a thought,’ she said. ‘I’m never bored. It’ll be wonderful to just let each day take care of itself instead of trying to make every hour count.’ She paused. ‘The only thing is, I didn’t bring enough clothes with me for an extended stay… I’ll probably have to do some washing.’
‘That shouldn’t be a problem, and I know we’re not the same size—or shape,’ Mia said quickly, ‘but help yourself to anything of mine, Fleur… Well, you’ll be all right for skirts if my jeans don’t fit. And sweaters galore, which remain here permanently. Anyway,’ she added, ‘no one dresses up down here. Just be warm and comfortable and forget about looking good. Not that you wouldn’t look good, even in sackcloth and ashes!’ She turned away. ‘You go and shower first,’ she said, flopping back down on her bed. ‘Take your time—I told Pat we’d get our own breakfast and lunch today so that she could go home to her cottage for a few hours.’ She smiled. ‘And that’s another thing I’ll be picturing—you sitting down to Pat’s glorious meals.’
‘She’s certainly a fantastic cook,’ Fleur said. ‘I shall be twice the size by the time I go home.’
‘Hmm,’ Mia said, thinking that even if she was, Fleur wouldn’t ever reach her weight. But she was really pleased to see how relaxed she had become over the days. She looked less wan and more like the enthusiastic young woman she’d always been at school and university.
Neither of them spoke for a few moments as Fleur remained by the window, gazing out at the gardens below, her eyes searching the near and far distance…but Sebastian had gone.
The following morning, after Mia had left Pengarroth Hall, Fleur decided to explore the area outside the house and grounds. She had not yet seen anything like the full extent of the estate, but felt it would be a good move to go somewhere different today. She didn’t want to keep bumping into Sebastian—whom she and Mia had seen very little of since New Year’s Eve. He’d looked in on them briefly last evening, but hadn’t joined them for supper. It was obvious that he was very preoccupied, and Fleur had seen him and Frank in the distance once or twice, clearly in deep discussion.
Fleur had persuaded Pat that she could easily manage to get her own breakfast and lunch every day, and that at most she need only concern herself with the day’s main meal…and that was more for Sebastian’s sake than her own.
‘We’ll see about that,’ Pat had said ‘I shall be popping in and out, in any case, but it’ll be useful to be with Mum a bit, because she’s not too well at the moment. She’s going to be eighty-five this year,’ she added, ‘so it’s only to be expected if she has an off day sometimes.’
It was a clear, icy morning as Fleur set off along the winding drive, well wrapped up against the cold as Mia had instructed her, admitting to herself again that she hadn’t felt as good and as energetic as this for ages. She also had to admit that she’d scarcely thought about work—or her parents—for the entire holiday. A change of scene, especially with Mia there, was what she’d obviously been needing after all, she thought, not those tablets the doctor had prescribed. Then she put her hand to her mouth, suddenly realizing she’d forgotten to take any for the last two days. Oh, well, she’d take one tomorrow.
Outside the huge gate, she stopped for a moment, wondering whether to go up the hill or down to the valley—the direction in which Sebastian had driven them to the pub the other night. Downhill sounded the better option, she thought, turning decisively and starting to make her way along the narrow, high-hedged road.
She’d hardly gone any distance when she heard a car approaching rapidly behind her and she instinctively stood back, well into the side. It wasn’t a car—it was a Land Rover, with Sebastian at the wheel, and he immediately pulled up and spoke through the open window.
‘Good morning. Want a lift? Do you know where you’re going?’ he asked.
Fleur smiled faintly—this was just what she was trying to avoid. ‘No—on both counts, thanks,’ she said. ‘I’m just going to have a look around, sort of get my bearings.’ She paused, conscious that he was staring unashamedly at her, right into her eyes, burrowing his way into her soul! She hoped he approved of the thick jacket of Mia’s that she was wearing, with its fur-lined hood framing her face. But his expression remained as it always was—curiously unfathomable—and it had its usual effect so that she quickly tore her gaze away. ‘What’s at the bottom of this hill?’ she asked, pointing ahead.
‘Well, when you get there—and it’s more than a mile—there are some houses, cottages, a couple of farms, a few shops, the village hall and the pub. Which you’ve already been in,’ he said. ‘Plus the river, of course—which is in full flood at the moment.’ He paused. ‘Why don’t you hop in—I can at least give you a ride one way.’
Fleur hesitated, then, ‘Oh, go on, then,’ she said, slightly reluctantly. Her plan had been to give him a wide berth today, to keep clear of Pengarroth Hall and not be under his feet, but thanks to him, that plan had come unstuck straight away.
He leaned across and opened the passenger door, stretching out his hand to pull her up as she climbed aboard. His firm grasp enveloped her hand and she slammed the door quickly behind her, not looking across at him as he revved the engine. They set off down the hill at considerable speed and after a moment Fleur did turn her head. He was wearing heavy-duty gear, as before, she noted, though the sturdy fabric of his trousers couldn’t disguise the strength of his firm thighs. But his hands, brown and lean as he held the steering wheel, were surprisingly smooth, the fingers long and sensitive. Which was hardly surprising, Fleur thought, because although today he could be mistaken for a farmer, he was a businessman, a lawyer. A man of many parts, and of obvious distinction. She sighed briefly. Why was she dissecting him like this? she asked herself. He was just another male person, the sort she came across all the time. But…no…that wasn’t true, she acknowledged. She couldn’t remember ever having been in the company of someone so outstandingly handsome, so out-of-your-mind gorgeous. The fact that he had an undoubtedly imperious streak was a bit of a turn-off—she remembered their first encounter!—and yet, who could blame him? He had a lot of responsibilities, both here and in London. A weak-minded individual wouldn’t get very far. But he was obviously capable of other, much more likeable qualities—proved by his affection and care for Mia. On balance, Fleur thought wryly, she’d be very happy to have him for a brother.
‘You’re quiet,’ he observed non-committally. ‘Are you feeling OK?’
Fleur looked at him sharply. ‘Why do you ask? I’m fine, thank you.’
‘Oh, it was only that Mia hinted you’d been off colour lately, that’s all. Though you look good to me,’ he added, smiling briefly across at her.
Oh, Mia, really! Fleur thought. She didn’t want her health discussed—certainly not with Sebastian. He probably thought he’d have to be on standby to ring the doctor in the middle of the night if she had a funny turn! She gave a short unnecessary cough. ‘I’ve been suffering from a slight case of over-work, that’s all,’ she said lightly. ‘This time away is already working wonders—plus Pat’s wonderful meals, of course. So there’s no need for you…for anyone…to worry about me.’
‘I wasn’t worried,’ he said casually.
‘That’s all right, then,’ she replied.
They reached the bottom of the hill and he pulled up and drew into the side of the road. ‘I’m seeing someone at this farm here, for an hour,’ he said, and Fleur shrugged inwardly. He didn’t have to explain his whereabouts to her. ‘There are plenty of good walks around for you to try,’ he went on, ‘and there are the shops, over there—though I think your money’s safe enough!’ He paused. ‘If you find your way down to the river, be careful. It’s very wet, and it’ll be muddy. I don’t want to have to come and fish you out.’
Fleur opened the door and got out, slamming it shut. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Thanks for the lift.’
She stood back as he drove off, and she watched him take a sharp turn left and disappear up a farm track.
She started walking along slowly, revelling in her surroundings and the almost traffic free road, and comparing it all with manic London and the frantically busy hospital she worked at. But could anyone be really happy here, all the time? she wondered. She remembered Sebastian’s words, and his obvious regret that soon he would have to give up practising law, cut off that part of his life, presumably for ever. It was bound to be hard for him at first, she thought. Then she shrugged. Why was she concerned about him? They were his problems, not hers.
After strolling around for about an hour, Fleur’s steps automatically took her along the public footpath towards the river. She could hear it before she saw it and, when she did, Sebastian had been right. It was brimful, and gurgling along happily. As if to complete the picture, a watery sun suddenly broke through the clouds, slanting its rays through the trees, and Fleur stopped. What a great picnic spot this must be in the summer. Yet did the locals ever really appreciate what was on their doorstep? she wondered.
She began treading carefully along the undulating path, her eyes riveted to the magnetic sight of the water bubbling along beside her, when, without any warning at all, and as if by an unseen force, both her feet shot from beneath her on the slimy undergrowth and she landed full-length with a thud, ending with a slithery slide, her hands flailing helplessly about as they tried to find something to hold on to.
She lay there for a few seconds, wondering how she was going to get up. She’d have to be careful—everywhere around her was wet and there was plenty of potential for further disaster—though thankfully she was well away from the water’s edge.
She saw that she was generously smeared with mud, which she foolishly transferred to her face as she wiped her now running nose with the back of her hand, and she groaned. Whatever must she look like? Staring down at herself helplessly, she saw that Mia’s jacket was plastered all down one side, and on the front, and she knew that somehow she must get back to Pengarroth Hall before anyone saw her. And, to achieve that, there was that long trek back up the hill first…
Gingerly, she moved on to her side and grasped a convenient piece of log, which allowed her some support as she got to her feet, very relieved that she didn’t seem to have hurt herself. The only thing hurt was her pride! What an idiotic thing to have happened, she scolded herself crossly—and she had nothing with her to try and repair the damage, either. She’d only come with a couple of tissues and a ten pound note in her pocket, which were no help at all. It was very unlike her not to be better equipped—she usually never went anywhere without her precious handbag, which always contained all the essentials. In fact, without it she almost felt undressed.
Now, she turned and began climbing upwards on to a higher path away from the water, her eyes intent on watching where she was treading, when Sebastian’s deep voice made her look up quickly. He stood a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, the merest semblance of that crooked smile playing lightly on his lips.
‘Oh…dear me…’ was all he said, as he looked her up and down, and Fleur gritted her teeth, feeling overwhelmingly awkward. As she climbed closer to him, he put out a hand to pull her up beside him, and as he did they came perilously close to a bear hug! He held her to him for a few seconds before releasing her and staring at her from head to foot, as if lazily assessing the damage.
‘You obviously took a little tumble,’ he said, and Fleur’s eyes narrowed slightly. The man was laughing at her, she thought, irritated.
‘Well observed,’ she said coolly. ‘But I avoided a swim.’
‘You’re not hurt…?’ he asked, and now the dark eyes were serious, the hint of amusement no longer there.
‘Absolutely not. I’m fine. If a little sticky,’ she replied, flapping her hands together and making it worse.
‘Well, then, let’s get you cleaned up,’ he said purposefully, in a way which left no room for argument. ‘They’ll sort you out at the Black Horse.’
‘Oh, but I’d better go home…I mean, back to Pengarroth Hall…’ Fleur began. ‘I thought…’
‘And I thought we might as well have some lunch at the pub first,’ he interrupted. ‘They do good food—I know you enjoyed New Year’s Eve, didn’t you?’ He glanced down at her again, and suddenly his heart missed a beat—or two! Although her somewhat crestfallen face was liberally smeared with mud, it did nothing to detract from her overt desirability—a characteristic he’d tried to dismiss since the very first moment he’d seen her….. and Sebastian Conway almost stopped in his tracks. What was that word which had slipped, almost unnoticed, into his stream of consciousness? Desire? That had disappeared, along with Davina’s departure, a long time ago. Had this small, unassuming, mud-smeared woman, dressed in unglamorous winter wear, woken up his libido? He swallowed, a surge of pleasure—or was it relief that he wasn’t dead after all?—coursing through him, and he looked away from her. Because if she gazed at him once more, with those beautiful, expressive sad eyes, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions!
He walked slightly away from her as they reached the lane, and he cleared his throat. ‘I do think that a glass of wine and a spot of lunch will do you good, Fleur. The slightest fall can be a shock to the system. And, anyway, I’m hungry,’ he added.
Fleur didn’t bother to reply. He’d decided that they were going to eat at the pub, and that was what would happen, even though she would have much preferred to go back to Pengarroth Hall. But still, on reflection, it would get lunch out of the way, she thought. Pat was not coming back until it was time to prepare the evening meal, so she might just as well fall in with his wishes and eat here, now.
As soon as they set foot inside the pub, Joy, the landlady, took one look at Fleur and sized up the situation at once. ‘Oh, my good lor’,’ she said in her lilting Cornish way. ‘Just look at you!’
Fleur smiled apologetically. ‘I was taking a walk—or rather a slide—by the river,’ she began.
Sebastian cut in. ‘Fleur would appreciate the use of your toilet facilities to get cleaned up, Joy,’ he said, ‘and then I think we’d like some lunch, please, plus a good bottle of red.’
There were, as yet, only a few customers drinking at the bar, and the woman beckoned to Fleur to follow her. ‘I’ll get you a decent towel, dear,’ she said. ‘There are only paper ones in there.’ She smiled at Sebastian, handing him a menu. ‘And you can be looking at this, Sebastian.’
Alone, Fleur sighed briefly. Why did she have to fall down and make such a fool of herself? She took off the jacket, examining it closely. All that mud would hopefully brush off when it was dry, she thought, putting it over the back of a chair for a moment, and noting that her jeans were relatively unscathed. She stared at her reflection in the rather dingy mirror and groaned. She had nothing with her to restore some of her confidence—no blusher, no lipstick, not even a comb to run through her hair, which she’d left loose that morning.
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