by Fiona Harper
Oh. That was kind of scary. Talk about a baptism of fire.
‘Louise? Are you still there?’
She glanced up at her reflection in the big hall mirror and immediately was reminded of the day of the fireworks display, of how he’d stood behind her and all of her senses had suddenly retuned themselves so they registered nothing but him.
‘Yes, I’m still here,’ she said quietly. ‘And I would love to go to the ball with you.’
Somehow, she could hear him smiling on the other end of the line. ‘Fantastic. I’ll see you in two days. I can’t wait.’
Once they’d said their goodbyes, Louise hugged the phone to her chest. A ball. Normally, she’d have found an excuse not to go, but she’d be there with Ben, and that would just make the whole evening seem magical.
Slowly, she replaced the phone in its cradle. When she looked in the mirror again, she was frowning. It would be magical. It would. She forced her reflection to soften.
Then why was a sense of foreboding hovering about her? Why did she feel that everything was so perfect that something absolutely, positively had to go wrong?
How Ben had volunteered to take Jas and her two younger cousins shopping he couldn’t quite remember. His sister was subtle like that. Dangerous. Especially when the twin nephews in question were at that in-between age when they were too big for a pushchair but too young to behave themselves in crowded shops. He supposed it was his penance for foisting himself on Tammy like this.
One slippery little hand wriggled free from his and one small boy was suddenly running into the busy crowd in the shopping mall. He yelled for Jas to follow him, scooped the other boy up into his arms and gave chase.
Thankfully, Peter—the tearaway—was stopped in his tracks by a rather fed-up-looking man in a furry turkey costume. Confronted with over seven foot of slightly disgruntled bird, he began to cry.
Angus, who was fidgeting frantically in Ben’s arms, saw that his brother was in distress and started to howl too. Great. The end to a perfect shopping trip. Tammy was going to wonder what sort of ordeal he’d put them through when he got back to her house.
He was now in grabbing distance of Peter and he hauled him up to join his brother. The turkey guy gave him a dismissive look.
‘Ought to watch out where them kids are going,’ he said, and waddled off.
Ben was tempted to yell something after him, but compromised by muttering, ‘Aren’t you past your sell-by date, mate? Christmas was almost a week ago.’
Jas giggled beside him.
‘Remind me what else is on the list, Jas.’
She gave him a self-satisfied grin. ‘A magazine for me and colouring books for the boys.’
Ben hefted the twins, who had obviously been overdosing on Christmas pudding, under his arms and set off back to the other end of the mall. One of the large chain of newsagents had a shop up that way and he could kill two birds with one stone.
As he walked into the magazine and newspaper section at the front of the shop, something very much like déjà vu made his skin pop into goosepimples. Although he was sure it was just tiredness, he took a quick look around the shop.
Jas was heading over to look at the magazines and, in one swift action, he grabbed her arm and steered her in the opposite direction. ‘Why don’t you go and look over there?’ he said, pointing to the slightly older teenage magazines.
‘Cool!’ Jas didn’t need to be told twice.
He was probably going to hate himself for buying her one of those later, but it was a far better option than letting her see the front page of one of the newspapers on the other display stand.
There, in full colour, was a picture of Megan kissing him on the cheek, accompanied by the heading: ‘LOUISE FOILED IN LOVE AGAIN.’ There wasn’t much text, but he could make out another small picture of Louise. She seemed to be sneering.
Of course, the main photo looked much worse than the actual event—like an intimate moment between lovers.
Hell.
He couldn’t let Jas see that. Surreptitiously, he wandered over to the display and pulled another paper across to hide the offending article. Then he accepted the magazine that Jas was waving at him, stopped by a pile of colouring books, grabbed a couple and headed for the till.
His blood was one degree off boiling temperature.
After paying, he grabbed a twin in each hand and bustled Jas out of the shop so fast she gave him one of her ‘madam’ looks.
Problem one dealt with.
Problem two? How was he going to explain this to Louise?
When another email popped in her inbox from Jason, Toby’s agent, Louise just knew that her perfect little daydream had exploded. Nausea swirled her stomach and every part of her body went cold.
‘Front page of today’s Daily News,’ the header read. The message was short and sweet: Sorry, love. Jason xx.
Her finger hovered above the mouse button. She waited a second, and then another. Finally, she squeezed her eyes shut and clicked. When she opened them again, she stopped breathing. Ben was looking awfully cosy with his ex-wife. Everything inside her seemed to melt and slide away. Blood rushed in her ears.
Think, Louise. Think. Don’t just react.
She tipped her head to one side. A pointless gesture. It wasn’t going to look any better from a different angle. But she forced herself to remember the hundreds of photos she’d seen of herself in the past, all seeming to tell a true story when a split second taken out of context could tell so many lies.
Ben had said he loved her.
And she’d seen the way he was with Megan. He tolerated her, nothing more.
She closed the file but a ghost of the photograph lingered, a trick of the light, so she got up and walked to the window. She’d thought those days were behind her—the dread each morning when she watched the news or walked past a paper stand. And she’d never thought she’d have to worry about that with Ben. But then, she’d wanted him, and having him meant dragging him into her world and dealing with the consequences. It was more pressure than a fledgling relationship should have to take.
Ninety-nine per cent of her knew there was nothing to worry about. But too many years of looking over her shoulder, of second-guessing everything the man in her life did, had left her wary. And that one per cent was like an itch she couldn’t help scratching. What if…?
She pressed her forehead against the cold glass and let her breath steam the window. Wishes and dreams were all very well when they stayed inside your head but, once they crossed the threshold into the real world, they were fragile, vulnerable—like the paper-thin glass baubles on a Christmas tree.
What was wrong with her? Hadn’t she wanted someone to look at her the way Ben looked at her? To see right inside her?
But there was her problem. Daydream Louise had been her better self, her angel. When Real Louise looked deep down to see what Ben saw, it wasn’t comfortable at all. No sugar, no spice, no all things nice. Just fear and loneliness and broken parts of the person she’d once been that she didn’t know how to fix. And if Ben couldn’t see all that, maybe he wasn’t really seeing her after all.
Abruptly, she pulled away from the window. Stop it! You’ll make yourself crazy playing mind games like this.
The crunch of boots on the gravel outside had her spinning round and pressing herself against the window once again. For the second time that day, she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
Ben?
He was supposed to be in Exeter.
She flattened a palm against the window, wanting to reach out to him, but glad the barrier was in place. Her movement must have caught his eye because he suddenly spotted her there and walked straight towards her.
His eyes said it all. Believe me.
Pinned by his gaze, she stood motionless as he raised his hand and pressed it against the outside of the window, covering the outline of her hand completely. She studied it, then let her eyes meet his again.
Let me in, the
y said.
Wordlessly, she peeled her hand away and moved towards the study door. Ben mirrored her and when she opened the heavy panelled front door he was standing there, waiting. Now, with no transparent barrier between them, they both hesitated. It was Ben who broke the silence.
‘I can explain.’
She almost didn’t need the words. His face told her everything she needed to know. The pain etched there broke her heart and she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. He gave no resistance and walked into her arms, burying his face in the hollow of her neck. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered against her skin. ‘She came to apologise. I was careless.’
She nodded, her chin butting into his shoulder. ‘Why are you here? Where’s Jas?’
He took a step back and steadied himself—or was it her?—by placing a hand on each of her shoulders.
‘She’s with my sister. Believe me, I’m heavily in debt in the babysitting stakes. But I had to see you, to know you were okay.’
He smoothed the hair away from her face with such tenderness. Her eyes began to tingle and fill. ‘I’m okay. We’re okay. It just…shook me for a moment.’
Colour that she hadn’t realised had been missing returned to his face and his whole body seemed to exhale. She tried a shaky smile and it seemed to work.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s do something normal. How about a cup of tea?’
Ben began to laugh. ‘Please, no. Anything but that! I finally think I’ve drunk my fill.’
‘We’ll have to switch to coffee, then. You go ahead and put the kettle on. There’s something I’ve got to do.’
He looked over his shoulder twice as he disappeared down the hall to the kitchen, and she watched him until he disappeared. Then she nipped into the study, highlighted Jason’s email and deleted it.
As she turned to leave, she spotted Ben’s palm print on the window. She felt it must mean something, but she didn’t know what, and that bothered her. Some vital piece of information was missing, something she needed to know but couldn’t yet. And that just made the one per cent of doubt tickle all the harder.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE lanes wound so tightly as he neared Whitehaven that Ben had to slow the car to a crawl. In places only an ancient stone wall separated the road from a steep hill that fell away into the river. Tall pines and beeches towered overhead and, even if the moon had deigned to glimpse from behind a cloud, it wouldn’t have illuminated much.
The road dipped halfway down the hill, signalling the descent that led to Whitehaven’s main gate, and Ben’s stomach dipped with it. The last week had been an emotional roller coaster ride, yet those seven short days now felt like a lifetime.
Cold swirled around him—not from the vents; they were blasting warm air. It was just the physical reaction he seemed to have every time he thought about how he might have lost Louise. He never wanted to feel that way again.
In the drive from Exeter to see her, he’d felt completely un-hitched from any point in reality. She turned him inside out and upside down. And, a couple of months ago, he would have thought that a bad thing.
Perhaps he was going insane. That would certainly account for the small satin-covered box in his pocket. It would make sense of the square-cut diamond nestled within. Just like a magpie, he hadn’t been able to resist it when he’d seen it in the jeweller’s window. Not that he was going to do anything with it yet. It was far too soon. It was just with him for safekeeping. For luck.
And, besides, he had another, less conventional gift for her. One that would leave her with no shadow of a doubt that she was the only one in his heart. It was a gamble, but he wasn’t prepared to sit down in defeat as Louise had. He’d decided to fight—for them. For her.
Amidst the shifting shapes of the wind-blown branches, his headlights fell upon the thick vertical posts of Whitehaven’s gates. The level drive traversed the hill with only a slight curve. He squeezed his foot on the accelerator. Not that he was late; just because he needed to.
He parked right outside the front door. The gravel drive was probably murder to negotiate in high heels. Feeling as nervous as a sixteen-year-old on his first proper date, he eased himself from the car and rang the bell. No one came. It was only as he reached for it a second time that he noticed the small note taped underneath it: ‘Come inside. L x.’
Now his heart really started to race. Stop it, he told himself. There’s no need for this. You’re not going to say anything…ask anything…tonight. It’s too early.
He entered the marble-tiled hallway and paused. ‘Louise?’
‘Up here.’ Her voice drifted down through the crystals in the hanging chandelier. ‘I’ll be one more minute.’
Now, the untrained observer would have expected a woman like Louise to keep him waiting, but it didn’t surprise him in the least when, almost exactly sixty seconds later, he heard a door open upstairs and the swish of expensive fabric on the landing.
At first he couldn’t see her properly. The glittering crystals in the chandelier distorted his view. But, as she reached the top of the stairs and started to descend, he got the whole picture.
He couldn’t say anything. He couldn’t smile. Heck, he couldn’t even breathe.
The dress was long and the shade of midnight, in some heavy, shiny fabric that flared slightly as it fell to her ankles. And her hair…it was held in glossy waves and pinned up at the back, just like a nineteen-twenties movie star.
‘You look stunning,’ he managed to mutter as she reached the foot of the stairs and smiled at him. Just as well he got that out before she turned round and revealed the impossibly low back.
Unfortunately, he needed to go to this party to keep Lord Batterham sweet, otherwise he’d have been tempted to see if that satin was as soft as it looked, if it would fall off her shoulders easily and ripple as it slid to her feet.
She gave him a sweet, sexy smile as she wound a wrap around her shoulders. ‘You don’t look too bad yourself, either. I must say, for the gardener, you scrub up pretty good.’
Pretty good? He’d show her.
Before she could back away, he caught her in his arms and showed her just how good he could be.
That horrible scratchy feeling that had plagued her for the last day or so had finally disappeared. She hadn’t noticed when it had subsided, all she knew was that standing here, in the grand ballroom of Batterham Hall, with Ben at her side, the magic was alive and spinning again.
As the minute hand on the ridiculously ornate clock crept towards midnight, she felt as if she’d emerged from under a huge cloud. Finally, the past was behind her and she could look forward again. And not just to tomorrow, but beyond and beyond and beyond.
She’d been quite relieved to discover that half of Lord Batterham’s guests had no idea who she was. Apparently, Buzz magazine wasn’t popular reading amongst the upper crust. And, although she’d thought she’d find some of these people stuffy and aloof, she’d warmed to many of the people she’d met.
And there was Ben. Always there. Always anticipating what she needed before she opened her mouth to express it. Not in the annoying, sycophantic way some people did, but just in his own unique matter-of-fact, I knew you needed it, so I got it kind of way. His impeccable manners were making him a huge hit—she half-suspected there were a couple of elderly duchesses who were plotting to steal him away.
The orchestra—not a string quartet or a band, but a full orchestra—finished their piece and paused while the master of ceremonies announced a waltz to take them up to midnight, now only five minutes away.
Ben, who had cleverly managed to be otherwise engaged for most of the dancing, now swung her into his arms and struck the appropriate pose.
‘Ben, I know you’re wonderful, but do mind this dress with those great feet of yours. It’s vintage Chanel.’
‘My feet will behave themselves impeccably,’ he said without a trace of irony, even though he’d managed to stamp on her toes at least ten times al
ready this evening. Gardening, yes. Dancing, no. But somehow that just made him all the more adorable.
‘I’ve been practising this one,’ he said proudly. ‘I wanted to learn more but Gaby, Luke’s wife, refused to teach me anything else. She said this was all I’d be able to handle.’
God bless Gaby, thought Louise, as they started to move around the floor.
But, as they continued to move, he surprised her. Okay, he wouldn’t win any competitions, but she stopped being terrified for her dress and started to enjoy herself. Round and round they went, circling the vast ballroom. Was this what it felt like—to have all your dreams come true? Because, right at this moment, she was living in a fairy tale.
The music began to fade and it took her a couple of seconds to realise that the musicians were actually ending the waltz, not that everything but she and Ben was melting away into a dream world.
The first shout made her jump. ‘Ten…’
She looked at Ben, who was grinning, obviously pretty pleased with himself.
‘Nine…eight…’ the chant around them continued.
‘What?’ she asked, starting to smile.
‘Seven…six…five…’
He nodded upwards and bent his head back to look towards the ceiling. They were standing directly underneath a large display of greenery, dripping with bright white lights and, tied at the bottom with a sumptuous red bow, was a generous sprig of mistletoe.
She laughed, then quickly went silent as a very serious look appeared in Ben’s eyes—one that made her knees tremble and her heart rate double.
‘Four…three…two…’
‘One,’ he said, then delivered a kiss that shook her to the toes of her sparkly shoes. The cheering and clapping and congratulating carried on around them, but it was as if she and Ben were in their own separate bubble.
Were you allowed to make wishes at New Year, or was that only on birthdays and when stars fell? Because she wished that it could always be like this—total perfection, just like her dreams.