“Thanks for telling me,” she said. “It was great to see. And you’re right—it’s not all doom and gloom.”
Although if it wasn’t all doom and gloom, why did she feel so utterly miserable?
Chapter Nine
Penny perched on a stool in Kurt’s bedroom and lifted the final painting to the wall, arching her back precariously to check everything was straight. She’d given the decorators their instructions, and the room was finally painted. She was now alone, putting in the last touches. The furniture and furnishings in the rest of the rooms were complete, and the whole house breathed with new life. For once Penny allowed herself a glow of satisfaction. Kurt was sure to be happy.
Happy with everything—except maybe this room. She stepped down from the chair and stood back, casting a doubtful glance around the set of paintings. What if she were wrong? What if everything she’d done in here was totally over the top and he hated it? She chewed her lip in a state of anxiety. He’d asked for something neutral, for goodness sake, not this explosion of passion. She twisted her head to examine the paintings again before giving a resigned shrug. It was too late, anyway. If Kurt didn’t like it, he could always rip out the whole bedroom after she’d gone and paint it magnolia. She would never know, in any case, because once she’d given back her set of keys, they would no longer be in contact.
She took a last fatalistic look round and was just putting on her jacket to leave when her mobile rang, making her jump in the quiet of the house.
“Hey,” Kurt said.
“Hey. I saw you on television. What a surprise. Nice work. You looked good.”
You looked good. Penny rolled her eyes at herself.
“Thanks. Although to be honest, Cass did most of the work—I just showed up and rode a horse.”
Penny laughed as she shrugged on her jacket. “According to the news, you did a good job persuading the stables to work with you, and you raised all the money. That can’t have been easy.”
“Yeah, I guess the finance side hasn’t been easy. Actually, that’s why I’m calling. Or partly.”
“Oh?”
“Thing is, Cass organised a charity auction to try and raise money—”
“Oh,” Penny said again. “Are you looking for donations?” She began a rapid mental review of suitable items from the shop’s stock, which Kurt interrupted quickly.
“Yeah, a donation would be great. But actually, it’s not that, it’s something else. Thing is, the event is a ball as well as an auction.”
There was a short pause. It was unlike Kurt not to come to the point directly. Penny sensed the hesitation in his voice and waited. He drew in a breath and the rest of his words came out in an uncharacteristic rush.
“I was wondering if you’d come with me?”
She almost gasped aloud. “Me? I mean, what about Cass? “
“Well, that’s the thing. Cass and I were supposed to go together, but she’s ill. Of course Cass being involved in the project, and all, it made sense for us to go together. But now she can’t make it.”
“I see.” Penny halted. So, she was second choice. She understood Kurt’s embarrassment, asking her to fill in like this, but nobody liked feeling second-best. She tried not to let a wave of disappointment wash over her.
Kurt broke the uncomfortable silence. “I understand how this seems, asking you at the last minute and all, but I’d love it if you said yes.” His urging was laced with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “I’d rather go with you than anyone else.”
There was a silence. Penny took in a breath, but before she could answer, Kurt added, “And it’s for charity.”
She gave a short, defeated laugh. “Oh well, if you put it like that. Where and when? And most important, what do I wear?”
Penny could almost hear him leap up with relief. “Seven p.m. next Saturday, Park Lane,” he said, an injection of cheerfulness in his voice. “You got a ball gown?”
“More than most people ever dream of,” she said drily, thinking of her mother’s collection. “I’ll look one out.”
“It’s great you’re willing to do this for me.” His voice dropped. “Now I’m looking forward to it.”
“No problem.” Penny was proud of the cool way she handled his request. She was especially proud of remaining cool in a bedroom that was the absolute opposite of cool. It was hard to look at the decor and not feel her skin burn. The whole room radiated heat.
“And Kurt?” she added tentatively. “Your house is just about ready. Maybe you could come over on Sunday? After the ball?”
“Sure. Can’t wait. Thanks, Penny, you’re awesome, kid.”
Penny ended the call and stuffed her phone in her jacket pocket. Awesome, kid. Fabulous. The kid sister, wheeled in in second place behind the glamorous girlfriend. She put her hand on the door handle and turned to take a final look around the bedroom. After Kurt moved in, it would be the last she’d ever see of it.
She stepped over to straighten the painting on the wall one last time before leaving the room, pulling the door shut behind her.
* * * *
Choosing something to wear for her regular night out with the girls often caused Penny a headache. She would go through her entire wardrobe, flinging clothes on the bed at random, only to discover she had absolutely nothing to wear. For most people, trying to find an evening dress for an exclusive ball at one of London’s top hotels would present an even greater problem but not for Penny. She went straight to the trunk which had belonged to her mother and opened the lid. Everything inside was neatly packed away in tissue paper—literally dozens of dresses which her mother had worn on red carpets around the world. Penny’s grandmother had refused to dispose of the ball gowns, insisting that when Penny grew up she would want to wear them herself. By the time Penny was a teenager, however, it was perfectly obvious she was never going to step into her mother’s glamorous shoes and become another Megan Rose. Her grandmother had struggled for the rest of her life to conceal her disappointment.
Penny knelt down and lifted the top layer of tissue paper from the trunk. A couple of loose sequins slid to the floor. She picked them up, feeling the metal, cold and hard, in her palm, and for a minute or two, she froze on her knees, staring down into the trunk.
What, she asked herself, do you think you are doing, going to this ball, all glammed up? A ridiculous Cinderella. The dripping well of misery within her finally overflowed. A tread on the landing warned her when her granddad entered the room. Too overcome to turn, she bent her head over the trunk. Her grandfather paused in the doorway and then took a few slow steps across the room. She heard him crouch awkwardly beside her, and then he took her hand in his. Instantly, a sob burst from her.
“Granddad, I’m sick of feeling second-best.” She knew she sounded self-pitying, but despair overwhelmed her, and she was past caring. The words caught painfully in her throat. “I’ve tried and tried to feel beautiful and glamorous like Mum, but everything in my life is always grey and miserable.”
Her grandfather reached over without speaking and pulled her to him. The rub of his sweater was comforting beneath her wet cheeks. Her shoulders heaved once or twice as he patted her awkwardly. After a while, he cleared his throat, the frail hands tightening their grip.
“Penny, listen to me,” he said, a catch in his voice. “Everyone loved your mother; it’s true. But they loved a mirage. She was a dream, an image on screen. The only people who really loved her—and I mean truly loved the person she was, faults and all—were your dad and your grandmother. And me. Your mother wasn’t perfect. If you’d had a chance to get to know her, you’d realise that.” He pushed his granddaughter gently away and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, pressing it into her hand. “Here, take this.” She blew her nose noisily. When she’d composed herself a little, he sank back stiffly on his heels and took hold of her hand.
“I’ve told you before, Penny. You’re not second-best. You’re not second-best to me, and one day you’ll find the man who
makes you feel loved the way you should be.”
Penny squeezed his hand but didn’t meet his eyes. “Maybe.” She lifted the handkerchief to her nose and blew again.
“Definitely.”
Penny heard the smile in her grandfather’s voice and looked up. His pale blue eyes were slightly damp, but there was a definite twinkle in them. “I’d say before too long you’ll definitely find there’s a man out there who loves you for who you are. Sooner maybe than you think.” He squeezed her hand again, a grave smile on his lips. “But promise one thing. Don’t ever accept second-best. You’re worth more than that.”
Penny reached up and kissed his cheek. “Well at least you believe in me, Granddad.”
“I do.” He gave her another brief hug. “But you have to believe in yourself,” he finished gravely.
Her grandfather’s words were a comfort but did little to dent Penny’s deep-rooted unhappiness. The secret to alleviating her depression, she told herself for the hundredth time, was to have nothing more to do with Kurt. The constant necessity of hiding her feelings for him was wearing her out.
She lifted out the first of her mother’s evening dresses and let the cool fabric slip through her fingers. The dresses were crying out to be worn. And since attending the ball with Kurt would be the last evening she’d ever spend with him then what the heck? She might as well summon up all her reserves and go out dressed to kill.
* * * *
Kurt stepped out of the taxi and walked up the short drive to Penny’s front door. He had been ridiculously happy when she’d agreed to come with him, but now as he stood in front of her house, he was surprised to find his heart rattling along at an uncomfortable rate. He lifted the knocker and gave it a short, hard rap before standing back, straightening his bowtie with one hand and adjusting the bouquet he was holding in the other. The door opened wide. Penny greeted him with a cool smile which altered dramatically as soon as her eyes fell on the bouquet.
“Roses.” Her eyes widened in wonder.
Kurt said nothing. He found himself staring at Penny in the same dumbstruck fashion he had greeted her with that night outside the restaurant. If she’d looked like a princess on that occasion, tonight she was a queen. Her hair was swept up, revealing naked shoulders that rose out of an elegant black evening dress. A diamond chain glittered around her neck. The hands she extended to receive the bouquet were clad in long black evening gloves which climbed the length of her graceful arms. Kurt could barely tear his eyes away from the creaminess of her naked skin. The thought of peeling off those gloves was almost as erotic as asking her to step out of the dress. Heat suffused his neck and travelled upward to his cheekbones, and the heart that had been rattling, swelled to a crescendo in his ears. It was lucky for him that Penny was entirely absorbed in the bouquet.
“You brought roses.” She gazed in wonder at the white roses before raising them to her face to take in the fragrance.
“Yes.” Kurt’s voice was a little hoarse. He cleared his throat. “I thought you’d like them.”
“I do.” Her bright eyes lifted and caught his in such a beam of wondrous delight he almost fell backward.
“You did something to your hair,” he blurted and then cursed inwardly. She looked awesome. Was that all he could find to say? That smooth-talking Alex would have been sure to have the right words on his tongue.
Penny lifted a hand to the loose tendrils skimming her bare neck. “I had it done at the salon. Do you like it?”
Like it? He was resisting the urge to pull out all the pins that were holding it up and plunge his hands into it.
He nodded, his mouth dry. “You look good.”
Her cheeks went a faint pink. “You look good, too,” she said, dropping her eyes. “I’ll just give this bouquet to Granddad to look after.”
She disappeared into the house, and he heard her murmur a few words to her grandfather. The next minute she had reappeared, a silver scarf around her shoulders.
“Granddad says hello. He can’t come to the door because he’s in the middle of fixing a two hundred year old watch.”
Kurt gave her his arm and smiled down at her. “It would be terrible to disturb him.”
“Oh, he’s happy as the proverbial pig.” Her eyes twinkled. “Now he can spread oil and bits of watch all over the kitchen table.”
Their light chatter set the tone for the conversation for the rest of the evening: lightly humorous, saying nothing important, and above all, revealing nothing of the deep current of their emotions. When Penny walked into the ball room on Kurt’s arm and saw how enchantingly it had been decorated, she gave his arm a playful squeeze and looked up at him, her eyes teasing.
“Did you choose the colour scheme?”
He looked down, laughing. “Caught out. No, it was Cass. She’s done a great job organising even though she’s had to work from her sick bed.”
“Really?” Penny widened her eyes in concern. “I had no idea. Shouldn’t she be resting?”
Kurt grinned. “Oh, don’t worry, she’s well enough to pick up the phone.” He bent his head to her ear. “I’ll tell you a secret, but she’d be mad if you told anyone else. She’s got chicken-pox.”
“O-o-h.” Penny’s mouth rounded. Her expression was still full of concern—after all, chicken-pox was no joke for adults—but she was reassured on catching Kurt’s eye to find he was still smiling.
“She’s fine,” he insisted. “She’s just not allowed out of the house until the spots have gone. She’s annoyed and tired more than anything. And upset at missing a party. She’s like a spoiled kid,” he added as an afterthought.
Penny glanced up at him. It wasn’t a very lover-like statement.
“Well it’s a shame,” she said. She did feel genuinely sorry for Cass. But there was no time to discuss it further, because Kurt was spotted by some of the riders from the stables, and they were soon surrounded by a chattering group of people. After the introductions, and when it became obvious that the conversation would revolve solely around horses, Penny took the opportunity of slipping away to look through the objects up for auction.
There was a sizeable display on the auction table. As was to be expected, most of the donations had an equestrian theme. There were free riding lessons at the stables and a photograph signed by an Olympic show-jumper. Penny had donated a vintage brooch, fashioned in the shape of a horse. But for those people attending who didn’t live and breathe horses, there were a few other items, and Penny found herself drawn to a diamond bracelet, donated by a local jeweller’s. She lifted it out of its silk-lined box and held it carefully in one hand to examine it. It was beautifully fashioned so that the diamonds twisted round each other like slim ribbons. She couldn’t resist trying it on over her long black gloves and was just holding her wrist out to admire it when she heard a familiar voice in her ear.
“Mmmm. Looking good.”
She started guiltily and whirled round to find Alex’s lively brown eyes on hers.
“Alex! I had no idea you were coming.”
Alex was the first familiar face she had encountered, and she couldn’t prevent a wide smile lighting her face. He grinned back, running his eyes all the way from her chic hairstyle to the tip of her silver heels before giving an admiring whistle.
“It’s good to see you, too.” He lifted his eyes to hers. “Kurt’s a lucky guy.”
Penny felt herself redden. “Oh, Kurt and I…” she said. “We’ve just come as friends, that’s all.”
She lifted her arm to try and pull off the bracelet, but it had become stuck on one of the buttons of her gloves.
“Here, let me.” Alex bent his head and caught hold of her wrist. “Just friends, huh?” He looked up at her, suddenly serious. “Then Kurt’s an idiot.”
He released the bracelet from her wrist with one deft movement. Penny looked into his face without speaking. Alex’s words should have been taken as a light-hearted compliment, but instead, she felt all the misery of the past few weeks descen
d on her. She glanced over her shoulder. Kurt had taken his seat at their table, and his head was bent attentively toward one of the guests. As though he felt her eyes on him, he looked up and gave her a warm smile before turning back to his neighbour. It was a friendly gesture, but it did little to lift the chill that descended on her.
She turned back to Alex and forced a smile. “Good to see you again.”
“Sure. I’ll catch you later. Save me a dance, huh?” He fixed her with a sympathetic look before dropping a wink with his old mix of mischievous flirtation. Penny gave him a grin and went to join Kurt at their table. He stood as she approached, bending over her with his usual heart-stopping courtesy to pull out her chair.
“I see Alex is up to his old tricks,” he murmured in her ear as she took her seat. He sat down next to her and bent his head, so no-one else could hear. “Just make sure you don’t get drunk again.”
Penny’s mouth flew open. She twisted her head to find Kurt’s grey eyes laughing down at her.
“I wasn’t drunk,” she protested in a mock whisper. “How many more times?”
“Sure.” He patted her hand with a grin. “Just lay off the liquor.”
She kicked him under the table and was gratified to see him wince.
If Penny had wanted her last evening with Kurt to be light-hearted fun, then her wish was granted. The other guests at her table were friendly and lively—a mixture of Kurt’s acquaintances from the stables and staff from a charity for disadvantaged children. It was a novelty for Penny to be away from the world of antiques for once, and she was quite content to sit back and listen to them chatter. As the waiters were clearing the last of their plates, the head of the stables—a small, wiry man with a smile that split his face—leaned across the table.
“I expect you’ll know all about auctions in your trade, Penny.”
“Yes, and I love them. It’s such an exciting atmosphere and such a great feeling when you win on a bargain.”
The Antique Love Page 13