by Penny Jordan
There were murmurs of assent from the other members of the committee, which concluded with the Major saying briskly, ‘Right, that’s settled, then; tomorrow afternoon it is. I’ll liaise with the estate agents, and organise cars to make sure everyone can get there. I take it everyone wants to see the place.’
Everyone, it seemed, did, except Christy’s father, who announced that since Christy could go in his stead, and since her presence was more necessary than his, she should go and he would stay at home with his wife.
‘That’s settled, then. I’ll pick you up on the way, Christy,’ suggested Dominic.
Instantly Amanda pouted, her hard eyes flashing warning signs at Christy. ‘Dominic, I was going to ask if you would drive my godmother and me there…I’m afraid I’m rather useless behind the wheel of a car.’
‘I…’
‘Please don’t worry about me, Dominic,’ Christy intervened. ‘I’m quite happy to drive myself. In fact, I’d prefer it,’ she added, giving him a tight little smile. ‘I don’t like to be away from Mother for too long…’
Both of them knew that she was lying, but apart from the ominous tightening of his mouth, Dominic made no comment.
What had he expected? Christy asked herself in guilty defiance. That she would fling herself at his feet, with her old childish gratitude for his attention?
‘Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way I suggest we move on to ways and means of raising the finance for this project.’
That was the Major, and as her pencil flew over her notebook again, Christy concentrated on recording the committee’s suggestions on how the money might best be raised.
‘As an incentive, my client, Peter Bryant, here, is prepared to donate twice the amount you can raise from the general public towards this new health centre,’ John Howard added, when the others had finished speaking.
It was a very generous offer, and Christy wasn’t the only person to look across at the entrepreneur when the bank manager had made his announcement.
‘That’s extremely generous of you,’ said Dominic warmly.
‘That remains to be seen, doctor—my generosity depends on how much you can raise by your own endeavours—God helps those who help themselves, eh?’
Christy guessed from the expression on the Vicar’s face that he wasn’t wholly at ease with the quotation, but whatever the man’s motives, there was no getting away from the fact that his offer was a generous one.
Suspecting that the meeting was about to be concluded, Christy was just on the point of getting up to collect the coffee cups when Lady Anthony surprised her by saying, ‘I have a suggestion to make—actually it’s my god-daughter’s.’ She smiled fondly at her companion. ‘She has reminded me that we have an excellent and very large ballroom at the Manor, and she has suggested that we hold a Valentine’s Night Ball there.’
‘That’s an excellent idea,’ John Howard commented enthusiastically, before anyone else could intervene. ‘I know several customers of the bank who would want to attend, especially if we could organise some sort of supper.’
‘You’ll need a band, of course.’ That was Amanda herself speaking, her cold eyes sweeping dismissingly around the table until they met Christy’s as she added, ‘And I expect there are plenty of women in and around Setondale who could organise the food.’
In view of everyone else’s enthusiasm, not even the Major could decry the project, and Christy was privately amused to see his desire to outmanoeuvre his old rival, Lady Anthony, warring with his duties as Chairman of the Finance Committee.
At last, grudgingly, he agreed that the idea was a good one, and added that he thought he knew where he could find their musicians.
‘They’ll be good ones, I hope,’ Amanda chipped in. ‘I mean, this won’t be a dreary local hop. I intend to ask some of my London friends to come down.’
Privately Christy suspected that if Amanda could have excluded everyone bar her London friends and, of course, Dominic, she would have been more than pleased to do so, but it wasn’t her job to make any comments, only to take the minutes, which made it all the more surprising when Dominic turned to her to ask her, ‘What do you think of the idea, Christy? Do you think it will be well subscribed?’
She hesitated for a moment before replying, conscious that they were being watched. It was one thing for her to harbour her own resentment and dislike of Dominic; it was quite another to make everyone else aware of her feelings.
‘Yes, yes, I think it will,’ she answered after some deliberation. ‘There are enough comfortably off people living locally for the tickets to sell very well.’ She paused for a moment and added slowly, ‘It’s nothing to do with me…and it’s only an idea, but since it is to be for Valentine’s Night, how about making it a masked ball—not fancy dress as such, just masked.’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the vindictive look in Amanda’s eyes and sighed. She would have done better to say nothing, but the idea had just occurred to her and she had thought it a good one.
To her surprise, someone else did as well. After harrumping and frowning for several seconds, to not just her astonishment but everyone else’s too, the Major cleared his throat and announced, ‘Damn fine idea. Went to several when I was out in India. Damn fine affairs. Very romantic… Just the ticket for…er…Valentine’s Night.’
The idea of the Major finding anything romantic was quite obviously as startling to the others as it was to her, and it was almost a full minute before anyone could speak. However, eventually Lady Anthony said firmly, ‘I agree. I attended several such balls in my youth and they were all great fun.’
‘Right, so a masked ball it will be.’ Dominic turned to Christy, smiling at her with such warmth and sincerity that she literally felt herself holding her breath. She remembered that smile from long ago, and the effect it had had on her—once, but not now, she reminded herself, hardening her heart.
‘I suppose we’d better select a sub-committee to organise the details. I nominate Christy as…er…organiser, and chief liaison person. I also vote that we appoint Lady Anthony as Chairwoman.’
A regal inclination of her head confirmed that Her Ladyship was pleased to accept such an office, although Christy knew from observing her mother’s experience that she would be the one who was called upon to do all the running around. Not that she minded, she needed something to occupy those hours when she was not taking care of her mother, and organising the ball wasn’t likely to bring her into any contact with Dominic.
The Major was appointed to take care of the financial side of things, and Christy wondered if she was the only one to observe the petulant droop of Amanda’s mouth when all the nominations had been confirmed.
Her only verbal objection to Christy’s appointment had been a pouted, ‘Dominic, there was really no need to involve Miss Marsden. I’m sure that my godmother’s social secretary would have been more than pleased to handle all the details. She is terribly experienced at that sort of thing. She organised my coming out ball and the wedding.’
‘That’s very kind of you, Amanda,’ was Dominic’s diplomatic reply, ‘but it would hardly be fair of us to deprive your godmother of her secretary, especially since we couldn’t afford to pay for her services.’
The meeting broke up a little later than Christy had expected. They were the last to leave because she had to collect the plates from the kitchen, and she wanted to wash them first.
As she had dreaded that he might do, she heard her father inviting Dominic back for supper. Her body tensed as she waited to hear his acceptance, and then went stiffer still when he said apologetically, ‘I’m afraid I can’t tonight. I’ve already agreed to dine with Lady Anthony and Amanda.’ He glanced at his watch as he spoke, and Christy felt a furious stab of resentment that he should make it so obvious that he was anxious for them to leave—a resentment that was entirely on her father’s behalf, she assured herself, as she picked up her plates.
‘We’ll leave you to get ready for
your date then, Dominic.’ She gave him a smile as icy as her words. ‘I should hate you to have to keep Amanda waiting on our behalf.’
Of course, once they got home, her mother wanted to hear about everything that had gone on.
‘You’re supposed to be resting,’ Christy scolded her, but nevertheless, she made three mugs of coffee and took them upstairs on a tray together with some of the scones she had baked. Perching on the side of her mother’s bed, she told her about the evening.
‘Lady Anthony’s god-daughter,’ Mrs Marsden murmured at one point. ‘Oh, yes, Dominic said that she was staying at the Manor. What’s she like? Dominic said that she’d recently gone through a rather bad divorce.’
Recalling the animosity and the innate coldness she had sensed in the other woman, Christy lifted her eyebrows a little.
‘She’s very attractive—brunette and petite—but she and I didn’t exactly take to one another.’
‘Of course not,’ her mother agreed. ‘She wants Dominic, and she’ll have heard all about how close the pair of you used to be. She’s bound to be resentful of the fact that you’ve come home.’ She saw Christy’s face, and it was her turn for her eyebrows to lift in surprised amusement. ‘Oh, come on, Christy love, you’re not that ¨naïve,’ she teased. ‘You and Dominic were very close at one time. We live in a very enclosed community round here; you can hardly expect that there weren’t those who, shall we say, wondered out loud whether your childhood friendship might lead to something closer?’
‘You mean people gossiped about us,’ Christy put in bitterly.
‘If you want to put it like that, but it was never unkind gossip. It’s only natural that people should be interested in one another. Dominic and his family are very popular around here, and I personally always thought there was something rather noble and endearing about the way he allowed you to follow him around. It can’t have been easy for him at times, especially in the early days, when he was only a teenager himself.’
‘Well, Amanda has no need to feel jealous or resentful towards me. Dominic and I are both adults now.’
‘Mmm…perhaps that’s what she’s afraid of,’ her mother commented cryptically, but she wouldn’t be pressed into giving Christy an explanation of her remark. Not that Christy needed one. It was as clear as though she had spelled it out for her. As adults, she and Dominic were now both free to pursue the sort of relationship they could never have had before. The eight years that separated them meant nothing now.
But far more than mere age held them apart, and always would do, and despite the local romantic imaginings, she and Dominic would never be more than distantly polite enemies.
She changed the subject, telling her mother about the potential site for the new health centre that they were going to see, and asking her what she thought about her idea for the masked ball. ‘I think it’s an excellent one,’ she told her promptly. ‘So romantic…’
‘That’s what the Major said.’ They both giggled as Christy repeated the Major’s reaction to her proposals, the atmosphere lightening a little.
‘Poor man; he’s never married, you know, and he’s the type who probably cherishes some impossibly romantic idea of a girl who never even knew that he cared about her. He’s one of these old-fashioned true gentlemen who don’t seem to exist any more.’
‘Rather like Lady Anthony. She’s another anachronism in many ways.’
‘Mmm… They’re very much of an age, as well.’ Her mother yawned hugely, and Christy, remembering that she was still supposed to be recuperating, got up off the bed hastily.
‘I’m tiring you, and you’re supposed to be resting. I’m tired myself, as a matter of fact. I think I’ll have an early night.’
She was tired, but not so tired that she didn’t wonder as she lay in bed how Dominic was enjoying himself with Amanda. A queer, bitter little pain seemed to come out of nowhere and curled itself around her heart. A funny pain that had no logical explanation, and which because of its very lack of logicality worried her even more.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘I’M sorry, my dear, but you know what these farmers are like. If Harry Forbes says he wants to talk to me about his will this afternoon, then he means this afternoon or never. I’ll have to go.’
‘But we were supposed to be going to view these houses with the others,’ exclaimed Christy, who had persuaded her father that she did not want to go alone.
‘Well, you can still go. Give Dominic a ring, and tell him that you’ll need a lift after all…or if you don’t want to do that, you can always take your mother’s car,’ her father added diplomatically, seeing the look on her face. ‘The roads are still slightly icy, though, and you’ll have to take care. I shouldn’t be surprised if we have more snow before the month’s out.’
Given the choice of lowering her pride and begging Dominic for a lift or driving her mother’s car, there was really only one option she could go for, Christy thought acidly. It would have to be her mother’s car. It was just her luck that her father should get called away urgently like this, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.
Knowing that because of his detour to pick up Lady Anthony and Amanda, Dominic would have to set out early, Christy waited until she had seen his car go down the lane before she went out to the garage that housed her mother’s small Renault.
Luckily the car started first time, and was relatively easy to handle. Even so, she took extra care as she drove down the lane, dreading the sensation of feeling control of the vehicle slide away from her.
It was a bitterly cold day, with an east wind blowing that could have cut glass. The sky was grey with lowering clouds, and she was glad that she had brought along the hooded fox jacket that David and Meryl had given her the previous year as a Christmas present. She glanced at it as she negotiated the narrow streets of Setondale. She should have guessed then what David had had in mind. It was a very extravagant gift for a mere assistant, no matter how highly thought of, but although the gift had surprised her, it had never occurred to her that it was to be the prelude to David’s covert courtship.
She found the houses easily enough and parked the Renault at the side of the road, huddling into the fur before getting out. For comfort she had worn a pair of stretch cords in a soft butterscotch colour, and chestnut brown boots she had bought in a sale from a shop on Bond Street. The amber-gold pelts of her jacket, its hood pulled up against the wind, set off her creamy redhead’s skin to perfection. Shivering in the icy blast, Christy locked the car, and curled her hands into her pockets before hurrying towards the buildings.
The Major, John Howard and Peter Bryant were already there, and greeted her with varying degrees of warmth as she explained her father’s absence.
‘A solicitor who’s prepared to work on a Sunday, eh?’ Peter Bryant commented. ‘Sounds like a man after my own heart. I shall have to see if we can’t put some of my business his way, eh, John?’ Peter Bryant was looking at her in a way she had learned to recognise during her years in London, but she fielded it with a pleasantly distancing smile and stepped back from him, straight into Dominic, although when she first felt the wall of solid muscle against her back she had no idea who he was.
She whirled round in instinctive shock, the words of apology dying on her lips.
The wind caught her hood and blew it back, her hair tangling wildly round her face. She lifted an impatient hand to push it away, and found she was standing so close to Dominic that one more step would have brought their bodies into physical contact. Beyond him she could see Lady Anthony and Amanda, the latter glaring at her with compressed lips and icy eyes. Christy told herself that it was the cold that was making her shiver so much, her balance suddenly ridiculously insecure.
‘Are you OK?’
Even through the warmth of her coat she could feel the pressure of his fingers on her arm, steadying her.
She took a deep lungful of air and nearly choked on it. For some reason it was impossible for her to meet his
eyes, and equally impossible for her to drag her own away from his face. He had cut himself slightly shaving, and her fingers itched to touch the small wound. Her mouth had gone terribly dry. She licked her lips nervously, instinctively shielding her eyes from him by dropping her lashes.
‘That’s a beautiful jacket you’re wearing, Christy.’
Thankfully Christy stepped back from him as Lady Anthony’s voice broke the spell that had held her transfixed to the ground. ‘Yes…yes…it was a present.’
‘From your parents?’ Amanda questioned with what Christy thought was rather rude curiosity.
Always brought up to be honest, it was impossible for her not to say, ‘No…no, actually I was given it by my ex-boss…’
‘And his wife,’ she had been about to say, but she wasn’t given any opportunity to do so, because Amanda’s sharp blue eyes had rounded spitefully and before Christy could finish her sentence she was saying, ‘My goodness, he must have thought an awful lot about you! Of course one hears about bosses who buy their secretaries fur coats, but I always thought they were just a joke.’
There was a small unpleasant silence, when Christy would have given the world not to have to look into Dominic’s face. She read the condemnation in his eyes with a kind of sick awareness of what he was thinking, that was in no way mitigated by her own knowledge that he was wrong. What made it worse was that Amanda’s unpleasant allegation had at least some basis for truth. David had wanted to make her his mistress, but she had been too naïve to realise it, until, at least as far as her jacket went, it was too late to do anything about it. Perhaps if she hadn’t worked so much overtime that autumn she might have queried the expense of such a lavish gift, but David and Meryl were both extravagantly generous, and so she had simply accepted the gift at face value.
But she could hardly explain all of this to Dominic, and anyway, why should she want to? she asked wrathfully of herself as she stepped away from him and went over to join the others, who hadn’t heard their conversation. What on earth did it matter to her what Dominic Savage thought of her?