Kitabı oku: «A Suitable Husband», sayfa 2

CHAPTER TWO

MEMORY of a pair of grey eyes glinting steel made Jermaine leave her bed the next morning well before her alarm went off. Ridiculous, she fumed, as she showered and went over yet again Lukas Tavinor’s visit last night. She was giving the man far too much space in her head. For goodness’ sake, she hardly knew him—and no way on this earth could he make her go down to Highfield to ‘look after’ her sister.

Jermaine tossed him out of her head. Overbearing pig—who did he think he was? She went to work, however, with the feeling starting to creep in that she wasn’t too happy that anyone should think her the unfeeling kind of monster that Tavinor, and his younger brother, obviously believed her to be. But, since she couldn’t very well tell either of them what an utter sham her sister was, Jermaine knew that she was stuck with the ‘unfeeling monster’ label.

‘Come out with me tonight and make all my dreams come true?’ Tony Casbolt, ace flirt, waltzed into her office with his usual Thursday offer.

‘I’m shampooing the dog,’ she answered without looking up.

Tony knew as well as everyone else that she didn’t have a dog; he never gave up. ‘One of these days you’ll say yes, and I’ll be shampooing my cat,’ he threatened.

She laughed. She liked him. But she wasn’t laughing a half an hour later when she took a call from her mother. Her mother rarely phoned her at her office.

‘Are you all right?’ Jermaine asked quickly; her mother sounded rather strained.

‘I think so—but your father’s getting himself into a state.’

‘What’s the matter with him?’ Jermaine questioned, ready to drop everything and dash to her parents’ home.

‘We’ve just had a visit from Ash Tavinor’s brother.’

‘Lukas!’ Jermaine exclaimed in absolute astonishment.

‘Oh, you know him?’ her mother asked, but didn’t wait for a reply as she went on, ‘I know you went out with Ash several times; you brought him here once. But he’s apparently been going out with Edwina since you stopped seeing him. Anyhow, she’s been staying at the Tavinor home, and has injured her back slightly. Since Lukas was passing this way, he called in to personally tell us not to be alarmed, but that she might feel better if one of us went to see her.’

He’d been to see her parents! Jermaine couldn’t believe it. The utterly unspeakable swine. Since Tavinor was passing, my aunt Mabel! The devious toad had made a special journey or she was a Dutchman.

‘I’ve spoken to her on the phone, and she’s fine.’ Jermaine immediately put her mother’s mind at rest.

‘You have? But you’ve not seen her?’

‘No,’ Jermaine admitted carefully.

‘I shall have to go and look after her. Your father won’t rest until one of us does, and you know how hopeless he is in a sickroom.

‘Mum, there’s no…’ ‘Need’ she would have said, but her mother interrupted.

‘I’ll have to. You know your father.’

Indeed she did. And at that point Jermaine knew, galling though it was to accept, that Tavinor, L. had won. ‘I’ll go,’ she said, as she knew she must. Her father would go on and on until one of them had seen and reported on Edwina. He would be beside himself if anything happened to her—it would be pointless telling him that his eldest daughter hadn’t hurt herself at all.

‘Will you love? I’ll go if…’

Jermaine wouldn’t hear of it. The bout of flu her mother had suffered had been particularly exhausting and she was only now getting back to her former strength. No way was Jermaine going to have her fetching and carrying for Edwina—as she knew full well Edwina would let her.

‘I’ll go and see her tonight after work. How’s that?’

‘And you’ll ring as soon as you can?’

Jermaine promised she would, and ended the call with steam very nearly coming out of her ears. How could he? How could he? Okay, so her parents weren’t in their dotage, but Tavinor hadn’t known that when he’d gone to see them.

Barely knowing what she was doing, she was so incensed, Jermaine grabbed the phone and dialled the number she had occasionally dialled when she’d needed to delay meeting Ash when work had taken precedence.

‘International Systems,’ answered a voice she remembered.

‘It’s not Ash I want this time—’ Jermaine put a smile in her voice ‘—but Lukas Tavinor. Is he in?’ Too late Jermaine realised what, in her fury, she had overlooked. If her parents had only just had a visit from Lukas Tavinor, then he couldn’t yet be back at his office.

‘I’m afraid he’s not answering, and his PA is off sick. Is it personal, or can anyone else…?’

‘May I leave a message for him to ring me? Jermaine Hargreaves.’ She gave her name, and also where she might be reached.

She was still angry when she went out for some air at lunchtime. Seeing the brightly lit shops all festive with Christmas decorations did nothing to calm her sense of outrage. In fact the more she thought of what Tavinor had done, the more furious she became. Suddenly a date with Tony Casbolt that night seemed a better idea than what she was committed to do.

She was still kicking against what she had to do when Stuart left the office, saying he’d be away about fifteen minutes. Only seconds later her loathing of what she had to do peaked, and she quickly dialled her sister’s mobile phone.

Unbelievably, Edwina wasn’t answering. Jermaine let go an exasperated sigh. So much for her notion to get Edwina to phone their parents to tell them she was fine. Not that there was any guarantee that Edwina would phone, even if she said she would.

Hating that Lukas Tavinor should dominate not only her thoughts but her actions as well—no way did she want to make that journey tonight—Jermaine rang his home. Ash answered. She put the phone down without speaking. What was the point?

It was just after four when the phone on her desk rang. Jermaine was glad that she again had the office to herself—her caller was Lukas Tavinor.

She did not thank him for returning her call, but in less than a second went from standing still into furious orbit. ‘How dare you descend on my parents?’ she blazed. ‘How dare…’

‘You have my address?’ Obviously a very busy man, he chopped her off mid-rant, and Jermaine hated him with a vengeance. This arrogant pig of a man, this overbearing, odious rat, was totally confident she would be going to his home that night. She was too choked with rage to speak. ‘Or perhaps you’d prefer me to call for you on my way home,’ he suggested smoothly.

Jermaine took a deep and semi-controlling breath. ‘I’ll make my own way!’ she snapped. ‘Where do you live?’

She hated him afresh, because there was a smile in his voice as he gave her directions. And she wasn’t sure, had he been near, that she wouldn’t have hit him, when, silkily, he added, ‘Don’t forget your nightie and a toothbrush.’

Jermaine slammed the phone down. What a skunk! She wasn’t staying that long. A quick look at Edwina so she could truthfully tell her parents that Edwina had ‘fully recovered’, then she would be back in her car and on her way. She would be sleeping in her own bed that night.

Events, however, transpired against her. She was ten minutes away from leaving her desk to go home to grab a quick bite to eat—no way was she going to dine at that man’s table—when Chris Kepple, one of her favourite executives, phoned in asking her if she could get a quote and some brochures out that night.

‘I’m sorry to drop it on you this late, but I’ve been with my client all day and I wouldn’t like him to feel our efficiency is any less brilliant than he’s sure it is. You can scold me the next time you see me,’ he promised.

Jermaine laughed. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ she answered, and took down the details of his day’s business and got on with it. She eventually finished her day’s work at seven-thirty, and was halfway to her flat before she unwound sufficiently from that last couple of hectic hours to consider she might have done better to have driven straight to Hertfordshire. It was a foul night—wind, rain, storm and tempest—and she could have been part way there by now.

Rain lashed the windows as she stood in her kitchen eating a hasty sandwich and drinking a quick cup of coffee. She still had not the smallest intention of staying overnight at Highfield but, just in case she hadn’t found the place by midnight and had to put up at some hotel, she tossed a few things in an overnight bag and went out to her car.

The rain had lessened as Jermaine headed her car in the direction of Hertfordshire. She drove along reflecting that, for the sake of her parents’ peace of mind, she was going to have to fulfil this wild goose chase—and realising that no matter how late she got there she would have to telephone them; they were waiting for her call.

Rain began again before she was anywhere near to Highfield. Deluging down thick and fast, too fast for it to drain quickly away from the country roads on which she was travelling. The result being that she had to check her speed and cautiously make her way.

She mutinied against her sister, she mutinied against Ash Tavinor, but most of all she mutinied against Lukas Tavinor, who that day had had the unmitigated effrontery to go and see her parents.

By the time Jermaine eventually came to Highfield she was not very taken with any of its inhabitants. This was ridiculous, totally ridiculous. There was nothing in the world the matter with Edwina. Nothing at all. It was only because of wretched sisterly loyalty, Jermaine fumed, that she had been unable to tell anybody about it. That Edwina did not feel the same loyalty to her, or she would never have made a play for Ash, didn’t seem to alter anything. Jermaine sighed. Stupid though she knew it was, she couldn’t help remaining loyal to Edwina.

Highfield, as its name suggested, was built on highish ground, and as Jermaine steered her way she was glad to find there were no more stretches of water to negotiate around; all water was running downhill.

Her feeling of mutiny against the house’s occupants dipped slightly when she noticed that someone had left the porch lights on, as if to guide her. She studied the stone façade of the elegant old building; she found it truly quite lovely.

But this would never do. Giving herself a mental shake, Jermaine left her car and sprinted for cover from the torrential downpour. Under the cover of the stone-pillared porch, she rang the doorbell. She was not kept waiting very long.

Lukas Tavinor himself pulled back the stout front door and for several seconds just stood looking at her. But Jermaine had had enough of this. He might be tall, he might be dark, he might be good-looking, but rain was pelting in at her and she did not want to be here anyway.

‘You want a discussion on your doorstep?’ she questioned disagreeably, and disliked him some more when she actually thought she saw his lips twitch. If he was laughing at her she’d…

‘Where’s your case?’ he asked.

Jermaine, confused that he might be laughing at her, angry at him and this whole wretched business, and having fallen instantly in love with his house, found she was telling him, ‘It’s in my car.’

In the next second she had got herself into more of one piece, but by then he was ushering over his threshold while telling her, ‘I’ll get it later. Come in out of this rain.’

The inside lived up to the outside, all lush warm wood panelling hung with various oil paintings. But as she stood there while Tavinor closed the door Jermaine reminded herself that she wasn’t here on any pleasure trip, and her case, in this instance her overnight bag, was staying exactly where it was—in her car.

‘Where’s Edwina?’ Jermaine questioned promptly. Get this over with and she was out of here.

‘In the drawing room.’

She’d managed to drag herself out of bed, then? Though, of course, since Lukas Tavinor and his bank balance were what Edwina cared about, she’d hardly be likely to ensnare him while hiding herself away in bed.

‘You’ve told Edwina I was coming?’ Jermaine asked as he escorted her along the hall.

She was looking at him as he glanced to her and shook his head. ‘I thought we’d give her a nice surprise,’ he answered blandly, so blandly that for a fleeting moment Jermaine had an uncanny kind of feeling that this clever man staring down at her so mildly had seen through Edwina. Had seen through her and was on to all her wiles.

Oh, heavens! Though before she could blush from the embarrassment of thinking that Edwina was making a fool of herself, Jermaine countered any such idea. Men fell for Edwina like ninepins. Lukas Tavinor might be clever in business, but he was a man, wasn’t he? Besides which there was nothing in his expression now to so much as hint that he knew Edwina was playing to the gallery.

Then he was opening the drawing room door. How cosy! There was Edwina, feet up on the sofa. There was Ash…Though, come to think of it, Jermaine had seen him looking happier.

‘Jermaine!’

It was not her sister who exclaimed her name but Ash, as he beamed a smile at her and hurried over. ‘You came!’ he cried, and appeared so pleased to see her he bent as if to kiss her.

Jermaine gave him a frosty look for his trouble, but as she pulled back of out his reach she caught his elder brother speculatively observing them. She met Lukas’s gaze full-on, and let him have a helping of frost too.

She wanted out of there! None of these people were doing her blood pressure the slightest good. One way and another she seemed to have been in a permanent state of anger ever since Ash’s phone call three days ago. Since his brother had joined in the act, two days ago, she had gone from mere vexation to a constant state of uproar!

Jermaine decided to ignore both men and approached the sofa where her sister was so prettily draped. Edwina was too good an actress to show her displeasure while the others were in the room, but Jermaine knew her well enough not to miss the hostility in her ‘What are you doing here?’

‘How are you feeling?’ Jermaine asked, hating the role she was forced to play—but it was that or show her sister up as the fraud she was.

‘Oh, I’m much, much better.’ Edwina smiled fragilely.

‘Edwina’s been so brave.’ Ash joined them to look down at his new love.

There didn’t seem much of an answer to that, Jermaine fumed. But she’d already had enough of perjuring her soul by asking Edwina how she was. Jermaine turned and saw that Lukas Tavinor was still silently observing the tableau. Though, since his expression was inscrutable, what he was thinking was anybody’s guess.

‘May I use your phone?’ she asked, tilting her chin a proud fraction. It was humiliating having to come here and start play-acting—but it was all his fault. If he hadn’t deliberately gone to see her parents…

‘There’s a phone in the hall,’ he replied evenly, and went with her from the drawing room and out into the hall. Though his tone had toughened, she noticed, when, as she looked about the wide and splendid hall for a phone, he abruptly challenged, ‘Won’t the boyfriend wait?’

Get him! ‘For ever, if need be,’ she answered snootily—like she was going to tell him she’d been dumped by her boyfriend, his brother, in favour of her sister.

‘You’ve only just got here—did you promise to ring him as soon as you’d landed?’

Jermaine stared at him, her lovely violet eyes going wide. What was this? ‘Thanks to you, and your colossal cheek in alarming my parents, I need to ring them to tell them that Edwina isn’t as badly hurt as you must have made out to them,’ she hissed.

He smiled. She hated him. ‘Perhaps you’d like to make your call in the privacy of my study?’ he offered, and was leading the way before she could hit him.

She hadn’t seen him smile before, though. And, while she was still angry with him, she had to admit there was something fairly shattering about him when he smiled. His smile seemed infectious, somehow. Not that she was going to smile back—perish the thought.

Nor was she smiling a minute later when—so much for privacy—he closed his study door—but with him on the inside. ‘Thank you,’ Jermaine said nicely. He didn’t budge. She looked pointedly at the door—he seemed to find his turned-off computer of interest. Jermaine turned her back on him, picked up the phone and dialled. Her father answered straight away. ‘Edwina’s fine,’ she told him, knowing that that was what he wanted to hear in preference to anything else.

‘You’ve seen her?’

‘I’m with her now.’

‘Can’t she come to the phone herself?’

‘Well, I’m not actually in the same room,’ Jermaine explained. ‘I’m at Highfield, Ash’s place.’ She was aware of the elder Tavinor breathing down her neck and, though when she never, ever got flustered, she started feeling all edgy inside. ‘Well, it’s his brother Lukas’s place, actually,’ she corrected.

‘That would be the man who came to see us this morning?’

‘He shouldn’t have,’ she rallied. If he was staying to hear her private conversation, he could hear this as well. ‘He had no right at all to call and to worry you so. He…’

‘He had every right, Jermaine,’ her father retorted sharply. ‘I’ve since spoken to Ash, and he tells me you knew on Monday that your sister was injured. You should have told me straight away!’

‘But…’

‘It was you who had no right not to tell us. Your mother said you’d spoken to Edwina, but I thought it was only today you’d spoken to her. Ash Tavinor told me you’ve known she was injured since Monday.’

Jermaine was not very happy at being taken to task by her father, and, had not Lukas Tavinor been listening to her every word, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have told her father that his dear Edwina was only pretending to have hurt her back for her own ends. He’d be furious with his younger daughter, of course, but, while he had never been able to see any wrong in Edwina, surely he couldn’t be so completely blinkered to some of his eldest daughter’s less loveable traits?

But Lukas Tavinor was listening and all Jermaine could think of to say to her father was, ‘I’m sorry.’

‘So you should be. Ash wants you to stay with Edwina—just mind that you do.’

Jermaine sighed. She was used to coming second where her father and Edwina were concerned. ‘I’ll get Edwina to ring you tomorrow,’ she promised.

‘Not if it’s going to cause her pain to come to the phone. You can ring me to tell me what sort of a night she’s had.’

‘Give my love to Mum,’ Jermaine said quietly and put the phone down ready to strangle her sister—and not feeling too well disposed to the man who strolled into her line of vision either. ‘I hate you,’ she snapped, tossing him a belligerent look.

‘That makes a change,’ he replied urbanely. ‘Women are usually falling at my feet.’ Jermaine added seething dislike to her look. He grinned. ‘Did your father give you hell?’

‘Thanks to you.’

‘You should have come when you were called,’ Lukas replied, totally unabashed.

‘I came, I saw,’ she answered shortly, ‘and I’m going home.’

‘Oh, your father wouldn’t like that,’ Lukas mocked.

‘You’d tell him?’ she questioned, staring at him in dis-belief.

‘You bet I would.’

What a swine the man was. ‘Why?’ she asked angrily.

‘Why?’ He shrugged. ‘Because Mrs Dobson, my treasure of a housekeeper, is getting on in years, that’s why. Because she gets upset at the thought of retiring and wants to keep on working, I wouldn’t dream of letting her go. That doesn’t mean I want her running upstairs ten times a day to attend to your sister when that job is so obviously yours—that’s why!’

Jermaine came close then to telling him that there was nothing wrong with her sister. But he wouldn’t believe her anyhow, would again think her hard and unfeeling and prepared to blacken her injured sister’s name rather than stay and do her sisterly duty. Jermaine felt then that she had taken enough. But, having come near to denouncing her sister and letting them all go to the devil, she discovered that family loyalty was still stronger than her own fed-up feelings. Because she couldn’t do it. Instead, her tone firm and unequivocal, she told him bluntly, ‘I’ll stay tonight. But I’m going to work—at my office—in the morning.’

Grey eyes stared hard into her wide violet eyes. Then he smiled, a gentle smile, and her insides acted most peculiarly. ‘Allow me to show you to your room,’ he suggested quietly.

That gentle smile, his quiet manner, seemed to have the strangest effect on her. Because, instead of mutinying some more that her plans appeared to be getting away from her, Jermaine found she was standing meekly by while he went out into the foulness of that stormy night and collected her overnight bag from her car.

Unprotesting, she went up the wide wooden staircase with him, turning right and going along the landing with him to a room at the far end. He opened the door to a beautifully furnished room with not a speck of dust to be seen, the double bed already made up. Jermaine did protest then.

‘I shouldn’t have come.’

‘I asked you to come. Pressed you to come,’ Lukas reminded her.

‘All I’ve done is given your Mrs Dobson more work.’

‘My Mrs Dobson has help during the week,’ he answered, a teasing kind of note in his voice, his grey eyes fixed on Jermaine’s regretful look. ‘Sharon probably “did and dusted”. Now, you get settled here and I’ll get you something to eat.’

That surprised her. ‘ You will?’

‘Knowing you were on your way to look after your sister, I have given Mrs Dobson the night off. What kept you, incidentally?’

‘I worked late,’ Jermaine replied—before it abruptly came to her that she was being far too friendly with someone who had more or less coerced her to come to his home that night—a man she had not so very long ago declared she hated. ‘And I’ve already eaten,’ she added snappily, ‘so you can leave your chef’s hat on its peg!’

His eyes narrowed at her tone, and he took a step towards the door. ‘And there was me trying to be pleasant,’ he commented, and she guessed he had more from instinct than desire accidentally fallen into the role of host—ensuring that his guest wanted for nothing.

‘You don’t have to bother on my account,’ she retorted. And just in case he thought she might be joining them downstairs once she had ‘settled’, ‘I’m going to bed!’ she announced firmly. ‘I need to be up early in the morning.’

‘Presumably you intend to help your sister comfortably into bed before you put your lights out. That, after all, is why you’re here.’

Jermaine glared at him. Ooh, how she hated him. She was here because she had no option. She did not thank him that he had just reminded her that, but for her being there to do her family duty, he wouldn’t have given her house room.

She sent him a seething look of dislike, which speared him not at all, and he favoured her with a steely grey-eyed look and went from her room.