“Well, I’m originally from Coventry but I moved to Oxfordshire for a job which has now come to an end, so now I live there. But of course I travel to where there’s work, but Oxfordshire, well, Banbury in fact is my home. I haven’t any family, my mother died giving birth to me and my father died years later. Mostly I was brought up by an aging aunt who passed away last year, so now I’m completely alone.”
“No boyfriends, husband, girlfriend, lover?”
Hannah’s face flamed. “No, none of those, and I’m—not into girls, if you know what I mean?”
Goran nodded, a small smile playing around his lips.
“What about you?”
His look was arrogant. “Me?”
Hannah could have chewed off her tongue. She always did say the wrong things, but she’d started this, so she’d better continue. “Well, you know about me, so surely …”
“Very well! I am thirty-two, an astrophysicist and I work at the university where my speciality, if you want to call it that, is black holes. The book we are going to be working on is about the origin of the universe. I am English born, but my father was Russian and my mother English. This house”—he looked around—“has been in the family for generations, but was unliveable for some years, a complete wreck in fact. I eventually had it restored and now I spend as much time as I can here.”
“No wife, lover, girlfriend, boyfriend?” she queried naughtily, cursing her runaway tongue again.
Goran’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
She nodded, quickly swallowing the wine left in her glass before she said anything else he could take exception to. The room seemed to swim in front of her eyes and she blinked rapidly. God she couldn’t be drunk could she? Not on just one glass.
Desperately trying to appear normal she tried to think of another less controversial conversational subject but as she had nothing she resorted to gazing absently into the fire only looking up as the door opened.
“Dinner is served, Sir.”
“Thanks, Henry. We’ll be along in a minute.”
Goran looked at Hannah. “Shall we?”
Hannah gazed around the dining room, restored sympathetically to the century it was to say the least, impressive. The oval dining table, could sit at least—she counted the chairs—twelve. The walls appeared to be decorated with medieval tapestries and the floor was highly polished wood with an expensive-looking rug underfoot the colour of old gold. Thankfully she didn’t have to shout across the room at Goran, as he was seated at the head of the table with her, to his left. The white porcelain dinner service and crystal glasses sparkled like prisms under the light from the chandelier and were reflected in the shine of the wood. The food itself was delicious, goat’s cheese and tomato tart to start, followed by rack of lamb, baby potatoes, and an assortment of vegetables, with a rich gravy and homemade mint sauce. The desert of key lime pie was absolutely sublime. Goran Pendragon obviously expected the best and got it. He seemed to surround himself with quality and efficiency, and, she drew a deep breath, she only hoped she could measure up.
Chapter Three
Snuggled under the thick duvet, Hannah tiredly went back over the evening. The meal had progressed well and Goran seemed to make a concerted effort to engage her in conversation. Gone were the sneers and the derisive comments, and in their place was a witty sophisticate intent on putting her at ease. Before she knew it, she had been telling him her life history, not that it was very exciting and it was something she didn’t normally talk about. After all what was interesting about living with an aged, staid, dyed-in-the-wool aunt, attending the local school and spending her early adulthood, working in a café and studying at night school?
Eating mechanically as he spoke briefly about his own upbringing she listened enchanted to the sound of his beautiful, hypnotically rich voice. He had, she reflected been exceedingly charming. His manners were of course impeccable, pulling out a chair for her and waiting until she had become seated before sitting himself, passing her things almost before she knew she even needed them. Everything was surreal, the old-fashioned manners, the manservant, the beautiful table settings and the castle itself, she refused to call such an edifice a house. It was like she had entered a time warp.
The meal drew to a close and Goran retired to his study to work leaving her to finish her coffee and go to bed. Henry had appeared to refill her cup, and clear the table and with a little subtle questioning on her part had filled in some the gaps of Goran Pendragon’s life.
Born with a silver spoon in his mouth, Goran Pendragon appeared to have had everything, but somehow his upbringing seemed to have been as lonely as hers.
At the age of eight he’d been shipped off to a reputable boarding school until he was old enough to go to university, where he’d excelled. Later he’d followed his dream of becoming an astrophysicist. But the decline of his family’s fortune due to his father’s heavy gambling had resulted in the house falling into disrepair and it was only Goran’s financial wizardry on the stock market that ensured the revival of the family fortune and the survival of the house.
However, bad luck seemed to follow Goran’s family and his parents had died only a few years later in a boating accident. She sighed feeling suddenly melancholy. Snuggling further down, her nose twitched at the faint scent of lavender arising from the crisp clean lace-edged bed linen. Tiredly, her eyes closed as she absently wondered what morning would bring.
* * * *
The strident ringing of the alarm clock startled Hannah awake. Hurriedly she reached over and switched off the bell, knocking over her glass of water in the process.
“Oh bother.” She spluttered quickly throwing back the covers and reaching for the nearest thing at hand to mop up the mess—her panties.
A knock on the door had her scrambling back under the covers her panties clutched in her hand.
“Come in,” she called, desperately shoving her wet underwear in the bedside drawer.
“Good morning, Miss.” Henry entered carrying a tray containing a cup and saucer, a tiny milk jug, a sugar basin and a small teapot with steam rising from the spout.
“I took the liberty of bringing you tea, Miss, but if you prefer, I can provide coffee?”
“Oh no, thank you. Tea is lovely.”
Hannah leaned back against the pillows as he placed the tray over her knees.
“Is there anything else you require, Miss?”
“Oh no I…”
“Thanks Henry, that’ll be all. Tell Mrs. Henry that we’ll be down for breakfast at the usual time.”
“Very good, Sir—Miss.”
Hannah gulped in shock. What on earth was her employer doing coming into her room at six in the morning? And looking just as devastating as the night before.
“Miss Darling, I hope you slept well?”
“Err, yes, but what…”
“What am I doing in your room whilst you are still in a state of dishevelment?”
“Yes,” she whispered dragging the covers up and very nearly dislodging the tea tray in the process.
Goran grabbed the tray before disaster struck and plonked himself down on the bed beside her. She could feel the heat of his thigh through the duvet.
“I was just passing when I saw Henry bringing your tea, and so I thought I’d just say good morning.”
“W-what? Good morning?”
“S’right.”
What had happened to the stern unapproachable employer? He was positively friendly.
“Well, I never I…”
“Oh I’m sure you have, Miss Darling, but that’s a discussion for another time. At the moment…” He glanced at the watch on his wrist. “You have only twenty minutes to get yourself dressed and downstairs for breakfast.” He rose to his feet and stared down at her noting her scrubbed clean face, neatly platted hair and rather serviceable flannelette pyjamas. “I don’t hold with tardiness.”
“Well really!” she breathed.
Reaching forward Goran pulled out the
scrap of wet lace that was dangling from the bedside table. “Yours?” He raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Well really!” she repeated, snatching the offending panties out of his hand and glaring at him.
Grinning in real amusement Goran raised a satanic eyebrow and sauntered from the room.
Mentally vilifying herself for her inability to come up with anything more than “well I never” or “well really,” she quickly drank her tea and scrambled out of bed, tripping over her slippers in her haste. Hoping that the disasters that had occurred so far were not a sign of things to come, she picked up the offending footwear she flung them angrily against the door.
Fifteen minutes later, looking as neat as a new pin, she presented herself in the dining room for breakfast. Goran was already at the table and waved a vague hand in the direction of the sideboard with orders to help herself. Lifting the lids of the silver dishes that presided on the sideboard she sniffed delicately as her stomach rumbled hungrily at the delicious aromas. Serving herself with a generous helping of eggs, bacon, sausage and tomatoes, she quickly took her place on his left.
“Coffee?” Holding the silver pot aloft, Goran raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“Please.” She nodded, already shovelling food at a rate of knots into her mouth.
Reaching for the toast, she accepted the butter dish Goran passed her with a smile.
“It’s nice to see a woman who likes her food.”
“Oh, oh well, I was rather hungry, I don’t usually…” She stuttered to a halt, burning in embarrassment. Was she being greedy?
“Oh don’t apologise, Miss Darling. Food is the spice of life and has its own sensuality.”
Sensuality, sensuality! Her face flamed. Somehow he made eating sound sexy. Quickly she took a gulp of too-hot coffee and with her tongue burning like fire spluttered and coughed all over the sugar basin.
Quickly patting her on the back, Goran handed her a napkin, sympathetically asking if she was okay.
“Fine,” she croaked, hating herself for appearing such a klutz and hating him for bearing witness to it.
Passing the rather wet sugar bowl to a hovering Henry, Goran poured her fresh coffee and, catching up the newspaper, rose from the table.
“Finish your breakfast, Miss Darling. I’ll expect you in the study in ten minutes.”
Watching his retreating back, Hannah drew a shaky breath. Thinking how rude Pendragon was, she refused to call him Goran. Scowling down at what was left of her breakfast she pushed it to one side appetite gone, and smiling ruefully accepted the freshly refilled sugar basin from Henry.
Chapter Four
Presenting herself in the study, apprehension brought back those butterflies in Hannah’s stomach. She’d confidently told Goran that she would be able to cope with whatever he gave her, but now in the light of the day she wasn’t so sure.
“Ah, good you’re here, and quite recovered I hope?”
“Yes thank you.” Trust him to bring up this morning’s mishap. Ooh she could see their relationship wasn’t going to be smooth sailing. However, biting her tongue on the sharp retort that hovered on her lips she calmly took her seat at a desk beside the window. The computer was already on and the cursor flickered, waiting for input.
“I’ve put a few notes on your desk, just some scribbled observations, so please type them up and e-mail them back to me, I’ll see what’s relevant and what’s not. Then, there’ll be some dictation before we start the book.” He raised an eyebrow. “Anything you can’t handle?”
Quickly scanning the written pages she shrugged. “No I think I’ll cope.”
“Good, get to it then. Henry will bring coffee in a while. I’ve some phone calls to make, but I’ll be back shortly should you need anything. Oh and by the way the phone lines are repaired, so if you want to make any calls do it now because who knows how long we’ll stay connected as the weather forecast is ominous.”
Waiting until he’d left the room Hannah threw aside the scribbled notes and put her head in her hands in despair. His handwriting was illegible, how on earth was she supposed to decipher this scribble? She quickly scanned the notes again, all she could make out was one word and that was—and. Taking a deep breath she sternly told herself to get a grip, first things first. Make her phone calls and then calmly reread the drivel Goran had written, maybe then, she could make some sense of it.
Thirty minutes later and she was no further forward. It was no good. She was going to have to confess to Goran Pendragon that she wasn’t up to the job. Sitting back in her chair she looked around. The study was gorgeous, a highly polished wooden floor with an expensive-looking rug covering most of the boards, an open fire burning brightly sending off warmth and comfort, a couple of desks with leather swivel captain’s chairs and books! Hundreds of them lining the walls, Christmas would have been so lovely here, surrounded by comfort, but, she sighed, it obviously wasn’t to be. The place already felt like home albeit a slightly surreal one and the thought of going back to her cold, damp bedsit and searching for another job was just too much to bear. But obviously if she couldn’t do the job Goran Pendragon would get rid of her.
She looked up her breath catching in the back of her throat as the door opened.
“Coffee, Miss.”
Releasing her breath in a heartfelt whoosh as Henry placed a tray on a nearby table, she smiled in relief.
“Oh thank you, Henry. I didn’t expect, well I didn’t expect coffee until much later.”
“We don’t always stand on ceremony here, Miss. Mrs. Henry always says it’s easier to work when you’re refreshed. A great believer in regular refreshment is Mrs. Henry.”
“Oh well thank you and thank Mrs. Henry for me as well.”
Henry bowed his head and Hannah revelled in the little touch of civility.
“May I be so bold, Miss?” Henry nodded towards the scattered papers on her desk.
“Err, yes I…”
He picked up one the scraps of paper. “Mr Pendragon’s writing is a little, err, creative if you will. If you look here, Miss”—he indicated the first line of scrawl—“his words run all into one, see.”
He read the first line out loud and suddenly it made sense, Goran Pendragon didn’t leave a gap between words. Yes, his penmanship was appalling but once you understood his style, if you could call it that, then it was much simpler to decipher.
“Oh thank you so much Henry, I...”
“Think nothing of it, Miss. Glad to be of help. But…” He touched a finger against the side of his nose. “It’s our little secret.”
Nodding happily, Hannah began to type, the words now flowing from her fingertips.
Lunchtime arrived and Hannah to her pleased delight had got through an enormous amount of work. Not only had she finished the notes and e-mailed them to Goran, she had also completed most of the dictation he had left on the Dictaphone for her. Although the sound of his mesmerising voice dictating gobbledegook had quivered through her, stirring her senses and galloping her pulse.
Lunch was partaken in the dining room as was a serve yourself affair, with cold meats and salads, crusty breads and creamy butter with fresh fruit for desert. But it was taken in near silence. Goran was there but apart from enquiring about the morning’s work he was silent, her paltry attempt at conversation met with monosyllabic replies.
The rest of the day passed swiftly. Goran left Hannah with an enormous amount of dictation whilst he disappeared to who knows where. Henry appeared at three and informed her in a quiet voice that the master had said she was to take a break, maybe go for a short walk. Happily agreeing and pleasantly surprised that Goran had been so thoughtful she decided to explore her surroundings. With the promise of a mug of hot chocolate upon her return, Hannah well wrapped up against the cold stepped outside. She was certain the landscape seen in the bright light of day was magnificent in a wild and rugged kind of way. The castle stood proud set amongst a vast wilderness. Trees, their branches bare of leaves, stood like se
ntinels against the backdrop of white snow. Once green lawns were now a sea of sparkling shimmering white, and hedgerows were weighted low by the heavy fall of snow, whilst robins their cherry red breasts making a splash of colour chirped their joy of life. Crunching knee high in snow around the side of the castle she came across an arbour, a shady alcove in the garden, a place where branches of a weeping willow met and entwined like the arms of lovers. In the summer Hannah was certain that it would be spectacular, full of colour and life. Further on was an old black leaded gate which creaked like something out of a horror film as she opened it. The reverberation of the sea penetrated the quietness of the countryside and with her hearing now attuned to the sound she walked slowly towards it. The noise got louder, and while circling a cluster of evergreen trees she unexpectedly came to an edge of a cliff. Taking a quick step back she peered cautiously over the edge. Wild waves were crashing angrily against the bottom of the cliff, stirring up a white froth similar to a ballerina’s tutu.
The whole area was wild, windy and remote. The countryside was naked of civilisation as far as the eye could see but it was spectacularly beautiful.
* * * *
It was at dinner when Hannah next saw Goran and rather than sit in almost silence she chatted animatedly about this and that, until with a particularly penetrating stare he silenced the words tumbling willy-nilly out of her mouth.
“Do you always talk nonstop at every meal?”
Hannah’s mouth snapped shut. Well, if that was his attitude she wouldn’t talk to him ever again, she’d take a leaf out of his book and glower silently. See how he’d like that.
The meal continued and although Hannah supposed the roast beef and Yorkshire pudding tasted divine to her it could have been sawdust. Desert of apple pie and cream was served and Hannah catching Goran’s gaze silently lifted her chin. Shovelling an enormous mouthful of pie into her mouth, she showed inordinate interest in the lacy pattern on the tablecloth.
Christmas at Pendragon (BookStrand Publishing Romance) Page 2