by Kim Lawrence
Why should she mind being treated like an outsider? She was an outsider. Had she really thought sleeping with the man was some sort of magical formula? It wasn’t going to transform what they had into something more deep and meaningful, she told herself with scalding self-derision.
‘I’d probably slow you down.’ The empty feeling in the pit of her churning stomach had nothing to do with the fact she’d missed her breakfast.
Her presence wasn’t making things easier for Jude, so Holly quietly excused herself. She didn’t blame the other woman; it was only natural that she needed someone to condemn. Holly just hoped and prayed that the two boys would be found quickly, safe and well.
None of them had mentioned the disused quarry beyond the woods that lay to the east of the house and gardens—in fact, they’d all carefully avoided mentioning it—but she knew it must be at the back of everyone’s mind. She’d heard Ian Webster and Niall discussing the man who had died in a diving accident in the water-filled pit there, just the previous summer. It made Holly’s blood run cold to think of the two boys out there all alone.
It dawned on her about ten minutes later that she’d lost her way. God, that was all they needed on top of everything else, a house guest who couldn’t find her way back to her room!
Holly paused and sat down on a step while she tried to get her bearings. She peered up and down the long corridor but nothing looked familiar. She didn’t feel inspired to smile as she examined the framed set of original eighteenth-century political cartoons on the wall beside her. It was as she stood there wondering what to do next that she became aware of a noise that couldn’t be solely attributed to the sounds of an old house. Freezing, she strained her ears.
Could the two boys still be in the house while everyone was searching for them outside on the sprawling estate? Well what did she have to lose? If it turned out to be a noisy case of death watch beetle, who’d be the wiser? Holly set off in the direction of the faint sounds.
The sounds, which grew more distinct, led her all the way up to the attics. Seeing a dusty footprint, Holly let out a sigh of relief—it was only a little larger than her own tiny foot.
‘Hello, is anyone there?’ she called out robustly. It had been a while since she’d heard anything.
She was rewarded for her efforts with a very definite cry. Worryingly, the cry had sounded suspiciously like help!
Her stubborn efforts were rewarded when she pushed open the third attic-room door. Like the other two rooms, these high walls also showed unmistakable signs of water damage. Unlike the other rooms, scaffolding had been set up down the far end of the room and the roof plaster had been stripped back to reveal the heavy ancient wooden beams of the vaulted ceiling.
Holly didn’t actually take in details of the ongoing fight against the ravages of time, her horror struck eyes were riveted on the two figures that made up the heart-stopping tableau on top of the platform fixed high up the partly erected scaffolding.
Tom was crouched down on his knees, his face red with exertion as he held desperately onto his bigger and heavier cousin’s sweatshirt, the neck of which was snagged on the top of the scaffold. The thin garment was the only thing stopping the boy plunging down to the ground; it was also in danger of throttling him. It pulled tight against his neck and Tom’s valiant efforts were pulling it even tighter. Holly felt sick as she saw that these efforts might free the sweatshirt and send the boy crashing to the ground.
Holly wasn’t conscious of making a decision; she was almost surprised to find herself seconds later halfway up the scaffold, shouting calm words of encouragement to the boys.
‘It’s fine, Tom, I’ll take over,’ she panted as she heaved herself over the edge of the platform.
‘Pull him up, quick, he can’t breathe!’ The youngster released his grip as Holly took his place.
‘I won’t let that happen.’ There was a determined set to her chin as Holly lay on her stomach—she tried not to look down, as she wasn’t too good with heights—and linked her arms under Daniel’s armpits. The child’s breathing became immediately easier. She found it reassuring that Daniel was recovered enough to start wailing loudly over his predicament.
Holly soon realised that at this angle she wasn’t going to be able to hoist the boy up over the edge of the platform. He probably weighed considerably more than she did and she just didn’t have the strength in her arms. The slight amount she’d managed to raise him had been enough to unsnag the jumper, so now she was taking all his weight. Her racing mind contemplated the few options open to her. Tom sniffed, and wiped a grimy hand over his tear-stained face. ‘What are you going to do now?’ He sounded completely confident that she’d know the answer.
It struck Holly that the confidence of a child was a heavy burden all on its own. ‘Daniel’s going to stop kicking, aren’t you, sweetheart?’ Another kick like the last one, and her arms were going to be wrenched out of the sockets. ‘And you’re going to go and get help. You can do that, can’t you, Tom?’
The boy was already shinning down the scaffolding with the agility of a little monkey.
‘Be careful!’ she yelled out.
‘I’ll be back!’ he called, just before she heard the door slam.
Oh, I hope so, I really hope so, she silently prayed.
‘I don’t like heights,’ the precariously suspended boy told her in a tremulous tone.
She repressed the urge to wonder out loud why, if that were the case, he’d climbed up here in the first place! From a professional standpoint she was happy to hear that, but for a slight hoarseness, there didn’t seem to be any lasting damage from his near-strangulation.
‘Why don’t you close your eyes?’ she suggested. She did the cheerful, isn’t-this-a-great-adventure note so well that anyone hearing her speak would be completely convinced she was having a ball!
By the time her grin-and-bear-it smile had turned into a grimace of pain and she knew in minute detail about every pet Daniel had ever owned—nervousness made him garrulous—the burning in the muscles of her shoulders had turned from red-hot needles of discomfort to white-hot knives of agony.
In the morning, this will all be a bad dream, she told herself, as she made the worrying discovery that even closing her eyes couldn’t cut out the shoal of red dots that danced before her eyes. I can’t let go, I can’t let go…
She was concentrating so hard that she didn’t hear the door burst open. One minute, her own laboured breathing had been the loudest thing in the room; the next, there was suddenly what seemed to be lots of people shouting. One voice seemed to separate itself from the general clamour.
‘Let go, Holly. Chris will catch him.’
‘I can let go?’ she heard herself ask Niall stupidly. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Absolutely.’
She did and there was a loud applause as Daniel was caught by his father. Holly, grinning foolishly, opened her eyes and looked down—mistake! Major mistake! The room spun wildly, and irrational terror froze her to the spot.
‘Come on down, Holly!’ she heard Thomas urge.
Holly tried to speak but nothing came out; she swallowed to lubricate her bone-dry throat.
‘I can’t,’ she squeaked.
‘Why not?’ Even though her eyes were closed, she knew this was Niall.
‘I don’t like heights. Actually,’ she confessed with a slightly wild laugh, ‘I hate them!’
There was a startled pause.
‘Don’t you go up, Niall. You’re too heavy,’ Chris said. ‘The whole thing looks like it could come down like pack of cards.’
I could have done without knowing that. Holly let out a faint whimper as she heard Niall snarl an angry response. She felt the metal structure vibrate as someone moved upwards. Niall never did listen to anyone. This time, Holly was glad of it.
The touch on her shoulder let her know she wasn’t alone. ‘I’m going to get you down.’
‘It’s much more likely I’ll make us both fall,’ she warned
him. ‘I’m likely to do something stupid.’
‘So what’s new?’ he growled.
She was convinced she couldn’t move, but Niall was even more convinced she could and would. He was a very good persuader, surprisingly patient, but no soft touch; he took no notice when she said she couldn’t.
Her descent was painfully slow but eventually her feet were back down on terra firma. She lifted her head and Niall, who had been one rung below her all the way down, smiled. His hard mouth didn’t quiver; the smile was all in his eyes, and the warmth of those eyes made her breathless condition ten times worse.
‘Thank you.’ Her knees were shaking so hard that she felt obliged to hold onto him to steady herself. ‘I’m sorry I swore at you,’ she added with a selfconscious grimace. She hadn’t always appreciated his refusal to let her give up.
‘I’ve been called worse things, but rarely with as much conviction.’
‘She’s saved my son’s life and she says thank you!’
Holly’s head was still spinning when Jude grabbed her and almost hugged the breath from her lungs. From scapegoat to saviour in the space of a hour was a dizzying journey to make.
‘For pity’s sake, Jude, let the girl breathe,’ Niall rasped, impatiently detaching his sister from a very pale faced Holly.
Holly smiled her intense gratitude at him. ‘I know this is feeble but I think I might be going to…’
‘Did I faint?’ she asked a few minutes later.
A firm hand in the middle of her chest forced her back into a prone position. ‘You went down like a sack of spuds, but you probably weigh less.’
Just my luck, I didn’t even get to enjoy the ride, she thought, examining with covetous eyes the suggestion of well-formed biceps through the linen shirt he wore.
She was still feeling slightly hazy about the details of their rescue. ‘The boys were all right?’ She was in a sitting room she’d never been in before. By this house’s standards, it had almost cosy proportions.
Niall moved his head in soothing confirmation and Holly’s body sagged with relief. ‘Thanks to you.’ His deep voice was grim as he silently contemplated a far less pleasant outcome to the boys’ disobedience. ‘Hopefully they’re feeling suitably chastened, just now.’
‘I hope you haven’t been too tough on them.’ His fingers brushed her forehead and she felt them move lightly over her hair—it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. In fact…‘What are you doing?’
‘Cobwebs,’ he explained, holding up his fingers and blowing the dusty gossamer fibres from his fingers. ‘You’re covered in them.’
His words made her conscious of the fact she was very grubby indeed. She shot upright, looking anxiously at the chintz-covered sofa she was stretched out on.
‘Will you lie down?’
‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’ Her lips unconsciously tightened.
‘One of my best-tried lines,’ he confirmed drily. ‘Seriously, Holly, you ought to rest.’ He regarded her face with narrow-eyed concern; habitually pale, her milky skin seemed almost transparent at that moment, but considering how little sleep she’d had last night, possibly fatigue was a contributory factor to that.
His breath quickened as his body responded spontaneously to the thought of their night together. He wanted her now, right here; the raw urgency of his need was intense enough to shock him. His eyes darkened and his throat worked as he recalled the exact raw needy note in her voice as she’d cried out in the extremity of sexual frenzy.
‘Nonsense, I’m absolutely fine now. Just deeply embarrassed at being such a wimp. I’ve always had this thing about heights,’ she explained uncomfortably.
‘Which makes what you did all the more extraordinary.’ His blue eyes had a fervour which was lacking in his level observation. ‘Do you make a habit of saving people’s lives? First the restaurant,’ he reminded her. ‘Now Dan.’
Holly flushed with embarrassment. There were a lot of emotions she’d like to evoke in Niall, but gratitude wasn’t one of them. ‘I was just in the right place,’ she mumbled. ‘Well, actually,’ she corrected, ‘I was in the wrong place— I got lost. I wasn’t concentrating.’ She could hardly tell him she’d been wandering around, feeling sorry for herself. ‘I heard you talking about the restoration work with your father,’ she recalled, feeling the grime of several centuries in her hair and grimacing. ‘I should have thought. Boys that age…’
‘As a father of a boy that age, I should have thought,’ he contradicted her grimly. ‘Warning the boys to keep away from the attic seems in this to have had the opposite effect. I should have remembered how appetising forbidden fruit immediately becomes,’ he drawled drily. ‘It’s just lucky for us you have no sense of direction, and strong arms. I now know what clinging on for grim death really means. You weren’t going to let go, were you…?’ His words sounded more like accusation than admiration, and there was a strained expression in the burning eyes fixed on her face.
‘What can I say?’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m stubborn.’ He watched the bleakness chase across her face. ‘Besides, if I hadn’t stopped you leaving early this morning,’ she reminded him in a small miserable voice, ‘none of this would have happened.’
With a sharp exclamation of annoyance, Niall caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look up at him.
‘You’re filthy, Niall.’ She noticed for the first time the dust ingrained like heavy theatrical make-up in the faint lines that bracketed his mouth and fanned out from the corners of his eyes. If his face had any minor imperfections, it would have highlighted them. Hungrily, her eyes skimmed lovingly over the sharply angular blemish-free contours of his strong face.
The sharp dismissive shake of his head said clearly he wasn’t much interested in his personal hygiene just now. ‘That’s ridiculous and you know it.’
‘Do I…?’ She pulled her chin away and tried to ignore the fact she missed the warm contact of his strong fingers. She rotated her stiff shoulders, painfully aware that her abused muscles were already beginning to stiffen.
Niall gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Jude was hitting out at anyone, earlier on; she was scared. You should have heard what she said to me before you came in. I don’t need to ask permission before I make love to my fiancée at any time of day.’ He looked and sounded incredulous that anyone should think otherwise.
Holly doubted Niall had asked anyone’s permission for anything in years…if ever. For once, she felt surprisingly tolerant of his supreme arrogance.
‘I’m not your fiancée.’ She gave a breezy smile to show how well she could cope with this situation, and refused to allow the achingly wistful note to emerge.
‘Yes, well, we’ll talk about that later…’ He obviously wasn’t going to let the facts get in the way of his argument. ‘Anyway,’ he continued smoothly, ‘as far as Jude and everyone else is concerned, you’ve been elevated to divine status. It’s going to be very hard to dump you now without having the whole pack shrieking for my blood.’
Underneath the sardonic amusement of his smile, there was something else in his intent gaze that made her heart begin to work overtime. Now, don’t go seeing something that isn’t there, she crossly warned her optimistic heart.
‘I could be really awful for what’s left of the weekend, if you like,’ she suggested helpfully. For someone as gifted as I am for saying the wrong thing, how hard could it be to turn myself into a social outcast? ‘I could be so bad, they’ll all breathe a sigh of relief when you dump me…Though actually, I don’t much like the idea of you dumping me.’
It’s not got me singing from the rooftops, either, Niall realised, looking at the threads of gold glinting through the dust on her bent head with stunned eyes.
‘I’d much prefer to be the one doing the dumping, and that way nobody can blame you.’
If Niall’s smile seemed a little strained, Holly didn’t notice. ‘That’s as may be, but a man has his pride,’ he announced, adopting a comically injured
expression.
‘Pooh,’ she hooted, entering into the spirit of things. ‘Being dumped by your fiancée is not nearly so bad as being dumped by your wife, and you’ve…’ Her hand went immediately to her open mouth. ‘Oh, God,’ she babbled, ‘I didn’t mean to make it sound as if—’
‘Being dumped by your wife is not a pride-enhancing experience,’ he admitted frankly, regarding her horror-struck expression with amusement. ‘But I’m not so emotionally fragile that you have to walk on eggshells. It all happened a long time ago.’
Holly remained gloomily unconvinced. If you loved someone, time didn’t enter into the equation—she of all people should know that—and he would say that, wouldn’t he…? He wasn’t the type to parade his emotional scars.
‘Tara copes well in a crisis.’
‘A lot of people make the mistake of thinking she’s an airhead,’ Niall responded drily.
‘Well, I’m not one of them,’ she snapped, very conscious of how swiftly he’d flown to Tara’s defence. ‘You still care for her a lot, don’t you?’ she persisted masochistically.
‘We’ve shared a lot together…’
Holly smiled thinly. Well, she hadn’t really expected him to deny a bond that was so patently obvious.
‘I’ll always love, Tara…’
Holly closed her eyes.
Serves me right for asking, she thought.
‘But I’m not in love with her any more,’ he added softly.
Holly’s eyes shot open. ‘Really?’ Hearing the eagerness in her voice, she felt a warm rush of hot colour wash over her fair skin. ‘You don’t have to tell me this.’
‘Pity…’
A wary frown puckered her smooth brow. ‘Is it?’
‘I was kind of hoping that you’re not an entirely disinterested party?’ There was a disturbing smile as he waited for her response.
His words might just have the potential to put a new and remarkable spin on things. If her brain hadn’t stopped functioning, she’d probably have been able to figure out what that spin might be.