The First Time We Met: The Oxford Blue Series #1

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The First Time We Met: The Oxford Blue Series #1 Page 21

by Croft, Pippa


  I force down some soup and bread, but when the fish course arrives I find I can barely eat a morsel. Valentina toys with hers and when the main course is served, a filet of beef, waves Robert away. ‘Oddio! No! I will get so fat!’

  Alexander rolls his eyes.

  ‘You look all right to me.’ General Hunt growls this but I think he means it as a great compliment.

  Valentina laughs. ‘You are sweet to say so, Frederick, but I have put on so much weight since I come to England. The food is so stodgy. I am on a diet now.’

  I wonder how this is possible because she must be a US size two at the most.

  Robert offers me a dish of potatoes and, while I’m really not hungry, I smile enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please. They look delicious.’

  I accept a healthy portion of vegetables and force down a mouthful as Valentina tinkers with a green bean.

  Alexander attacks his beef like it is still alive, while his father chews savagely. In between mouthfuls he starts asking me about US foreign policy and criticizing Obama’s fiscal strategy.

  ‘I heard your father’s speech about Afghanistan on Radio 4. Well-meaning but misguided. Your father’s partially sighted, isn’t he?’

  Just in time, I bite back ‘And you think the two are connected?’ and reply coolly, ‘Yes, he is.’

  Alexander cuts in. ‘I thought Senator Cusack was pretty spot-on with his anaylsis.’

  General Hunt ignores him. ‘Attacked by some thug, wasn’t he?’

  I put down my fork. ‘Yes, he was.’

  Now I know the meaning of the word harrumph, which is what the general does in reply. ‘That’s the trouble with America. Lunatics running loose all over the place, and all of them armed to the teeth.’

  ‘He wasn’t shot,’ I say, trying to be patient. ‘He was attacked on his way to a drug store by a guy with a baseball bat.’ It still makes me feel sick to say this, even though I was ten when it happened. In my lap, I realize I’ve scrunched the napkin into a tiny ball.

  ‘I had no idea.’

  I look up from my plate to find Alexander looking at me, his eyes full of concern. I ought to be touched, but I hate it. I don’t want to be the centre of the conversation because of what happened to my father, but he goes on. ‘What happened?’

  ‘He’d driven out to get my mother some migraine medication and I still remember the police coming to the house to tell us and my mother in shock. My father was in the ITU for three days and we didn’t know if he’d come through it, let alone what kind of brain damage he would have afterwards. In the end, I guess he was lucky to keep some of the sight in his left eye.’

  Alexander frowns at me. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘He got over it,’ I say. ‘We all have.’

  Valentina shudders. ‘Oddio! This is why I never enjoy travelling to the US. I feel safer in Nicaragua or Cape Town or even Manchester than there!’

  ‘It’s not that bad. We’re not all gun-toting maniacs. Some of us are almost civilized,’ I snap back.

  She makes a moue with her lips and reaches over the table as if to pat my hand. ‘Of course, if you are used to this kind of violent lifestyle, you must become hardened to it. I could not bear it.’

  ‘Italy’s no idyll, Valentina,’ says Alexander sharply.

  ‘Maybe not, but I do not live in places with guns and men with baseball bats. Even if I did, I have bodyguards who protect me at home and in the city. I am surprised your father’s bodyguards did not save him.’

  ‘Incompetent fools should have been sacked,’ rumbles General Hunt.

  ‘He doesn’t have any bodyguards,’ I say, feeling like a pressure cooker about to burst. ‘Not then and not now. My father refuses to live in fear.’

  Valentina gasps. ‘Cielo! A man of his standing with no security? You will be telling us next that you have no staff in your home!’

  ‘We don’t.’

  ‘Ah, no. Now, I know you are joking with me.’ She waggles her fork at me then spears a sliver of carrot on the tines. ‘Alexander, amore, would you pass me some water, please? This talking of baseball bats and guns has made me feel a little faint and you know how sensitive I am.’

  That’s it. I pass on dessert, and sit through the cheese, which no one eats anyway except General Hunt, who attacks the Stilton like it might rise up and bite him. My head has started to throb and I’m longing for the opportunity to leave without it seeming too obvious. Alexander and his father are in a heated debate about the tenants on the estate while Valentina regales me with stories about her family homes on Lake Como and Rome, and her ‘vacation’ apartments in Paris and London – and how she only ever travels by private jet.

  ‘Alexander, do you remember when we went to St Bart’s for our first anniversary? It was so wonderful; we stayed in an old plantation house owned by my cousin.’

  Turning briefly from their conversation, Alexander mumbles something in reply then immediately turns back to his father. General Hunt’s face is like thunder and their voices are growing louder by the second.

  ‘It was the most exclusive location, right above the ocean, with so many staff I don’t know what they found to do there.’ She sighs. ‘I’ve never seen Alexander so happy, although we might have gone anywhere because we barely saw the scenery all week, did we, tesoro?’

  Alexander turns and answers sharply. ‘What?’

  ‘I am telling Lauren about our special week in St Bart’s. Alexander needed another vacation to get over it,’ she purrs.

  I cannot believe she said that over the dinner table – and in front of Alexander’s father.

  Alexander seems unable to formulate a reply and General Hunt coughs. ‘We’ll have coffee in the library. Will you ladies join us?’ he asks.

  ‘I would love to. I am dying to hear all about the plans for the hunt ball, aren’t you, Lauren?’

  I drop my napkin on to the table. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. I have a bit of a headache so I think I’ll go to bed.’

  Valentina sighs. ‘What a shame. I was so enjoying your company.’

  I throw her my sweetest smile. ‘Ditto.’

  As I get up from the table, Alexander gets to his feet and the general rises with somewhat less enthusiasm.

  ‘I’ll come up and see how you are,’ says Alexander.

  ‘How sweet,’ Valentina simpers.

  ‘There’s no need to come up yet. I’ll be fine with a couple of Advil and a good night’s sleep. Thank you for dinner, General Hunt.’

  I think he grunts in reply, but I don’t know and don’t care because I’m on my way out of the dining room as fast as I can.

  Chapter Nineteen

  From my window I can see that the rain has stopped and a shaft of moonlight has broken through, silver beams sparkling on the frosty lawns. An owl hoots and, I watch the deer silently wandering towards the woods in the meadow beyond the ha-ha.

  It’s the picture of carefully managed tranquillity, yet I’m still processing the fact that Valentina has been the one to break it to me that she and Alexander were together for two years and actually engaged. It crosses my mind to slip downstairs and take a walk outside but where would I go? I’m trapped at Falconbury. But immediately I remember that I did practically force Alexander into bringing me here. Now I know why he was so reluctant to invite me in the first place. His father has been frosty at best towards me and it’s clear that he doesn’t want Alexander to get involved with anyone other than Valentina. It’s occurred to me that General Hunt has the hots for her himself, but that’s surely secondary to the fact that he’s made it patently clear that she would make the perfect mistress of Falconbury.

  And you know what? He’s right. She’s sophisticated, well-travelled, speaks around half a dozen languages and is already so at home she’s part of the furniture – a very expensive, very beautiful piece at that.

  My head really is thumping so I pop a couple of Advil, take off my dress, slip on a robe and lie down on the four poster. I turn off the lamp, hop
ing the pills will work their magic and I’ll fall asleep. The bed may look inviting, but it’s as hard as nails and I can’t seem to get comfortable.

  I don’t know how long I’ve been tossing and turning and thumping the bolster pillow, but I must have drifted into a troubled doze, one in which Valentina is mounted on a stag and chasing me over the front quad at Wyckham. Just as her stag rears over me, I jolt awake to find a figure looming above my bed.

  A man is silhouetted in a shaft of moonlight through a gap in the drapes. Rubbing my eyes, I blink awake.

  ‘Alexander!’

  He flicks on the lamp. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I did knock, but there was no answer so I came in.’

  He sits on the edge of the bed as I back up to the bolster, screwing up my eyes. ‘I came to see if you were OK. How’s the headache?’

  ‘Much better,’ I say grudgingly, my nose responding to the peaty scent of whisky as he shifts closer to me.

  ‘Good, and if it had something to do with my father I apologize for him.’ He walks his fingers up the bedcover to my waist.

  ‘I’ll admit he isn’t the easiest guy to talk to, but I can handle that. It’s Valentina who’s difficult to deal with. I’d have appreciated it if you’d warned me you’d invited her …’

  ‘I didn’t invite her.’ He toys with the ribbon at the top of my Victoria’s Secret cami. ‘Your idea of pyjamas is interesting …’

  My nipples tingle as he tugs the loop free, but I won’t be distracted. ‘Then what’s she doing here?’

  ‘I have no idea, but I can only assume my father asked her to come. She’s been invited to the last five Falconbury hunts so I expect he thought it was only polite to include her this time.’

  ‘Even though he knew I was going to be here too?’

  ‘He didn’t know about you until a few days ago because, if you remember, you hadn’t decided to come until last weekend.’

  ‘Only because you hadn’t asked me!’

  ‘Well, now you know why! I didn’t know that Valentina would be here, but I’ll admit I knew there was a slim possibility that she might be invited. But at no time did my father actually inform me she was on the guest list. I was as shocked as you when we walked into the sitting room, though after you left she did let slip that she was asked two weeks ago. I assume my father forgot to let me know.’

  ‘How convenient.’ God, was that my voice dripping with jealousy and sarcasm? This place seems to have brought out my worst side.

  His voice cools. ‘I’m as happy about her turning up as you are, but it’s not that surprising. She is my mother’s goddaughter and whatever you may think of her, the link between us goes back to when we were both born. My mother and hers were …’ he hesitates ‘… very close. They met at finishing school in Switzerland and they’ve remained family friends since then. Valentina has been coming to the hunt for several years. I expect my father couldn’t simply cut her off just because we’ve split up. The contessa would have considered it a personal insult.’

  ‘How dreadful!’ I exclaim, all mock horror. ‘And I already knew her mother and yours were friends. Valentina was keen to let me know that, and about her noble heritage and her various homes around the world. I believe a private jet was also mentioned.’

  ‘I thought you’d take all that crap with a pinch of salt. Can’t we forget this, there are so many more interesting things we could be doing right now …’

  Before I can stop him, he climbs on to the bed beside me, leaning on one elbow.

  ‘She is very beautiful. You can’t deny it.’

  ‘I won’t deny it, but why does it surprise you,’ he says, pulling my cami open to expose my cleavage, ‘that I love fucking very beautiful women.’

  Before I can tell him he’s an arrogant bastard, he’s on top of me, caging my wrists above my head. Lying above me, with his thigh over my legs, he’s bone-hard through the cloth of his suit trousers. Briefly, I respond as he takes control of my mouth in a fierce and desperate kiss.

  He pushes my cami aside, baring my breast and I can’t help arching my hips to meet his erection. He slips his thumb in his mouth then rubs the damp tip over my nipple which puckers and aches in response. Then he transfers it to the other nipple.

  ‘You like that?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  His hand glides down from my breasts to my shorts and slides inside the waistband. He slips one finger inside me and my sex tightens around it, eager to take him.

  His voice is hoarse with lust. ‘You see. Why waste time arguing when there are so many better things to do …’

  Physically, I hunger for him but I know ‘Let’s not argue’ means ‘Let’s not talk’. Making love to me now is his strategy to ignore and avoid the pain and anger that’s simmered between us since I found out he lied about this weekend.

  ‘Wait!’

  It’s like pulling the emergency brake on a speeding train and either he hasn’t heard or refuses to because he pulls my pyjama shorts down my thighs. Even now, while my palms push futilely against his shoulders, my body betrays me. My nipple puckers and hardens inside his mouth.

  I suck in a breath and breathe my words against his ear, quiet and slow. ‘I said, stop this. Please.’ The pressure on my body eases and he rolls off me, lying by my side but not touching. I can’t see his face because I’m focused on the underside of the bed canopy.

  ‘I don’t think this is a great idea, just now.’

  ‘Why not? I got the impression you were enjoying yourself.’

  ‘I was, you know how much I was, but having sex now would be a smokescreen for the way we’re both feeling.’

  ‘Great. Just exactly what is the bloody problem? I’m listening now.’

  ‘I want to know why you didn’t ask me to come to the hunt. Really why you didn’t ask me, not some bullshit about being embarrassed by your friends.’

  ‘It’s not bullshit. It’s true. You saw my father; you heard him. He has one path in life for me and Falconbury is it and anything or anyone who gets in his way is the enemy. Including anyone I care for.’

  ‘I agree he’s been a little frosty,’ I say acidly.

  ‘Frosty? You have no idea and this … this row between us is exactly the reason I wanted you to keep away. I’m used to my father’s behaviour, though I hate it, but you shouldn’t have to deal with it. I warned you about this, Lauren, but you insisted on coming.’

  I sit up, rounding on him. ‘Then why have you come, if you hate the whole thing so fucking much! I’d have thought you of all people would have the courage to stand up to your own father and friends. Or have I got you completely wrong?’

  There’s a brief silence, during which he looks at me like I’m an alien, then he shakes his head and gets off the bed. ‘This is my life and if you can’t understand what that means, then there’s nothing more I can do. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  The first thing I realize when I wake is that the sun is streaming in through the gap in the curtains. Then I remember Alexander storming off out of my room, leaving me lying awake in a fury until I finally heard Valentina and General Hunt come up to bed.

  Then I remember cooling down and kicking myself for losing my temper. Shit!

  Double shit, because the old-fashioned alarm clock on the night stand tells me it’s past nine a.m. I bet I’ve missed breakfast, and that must be a major faux pas.

  Which means I’ll have to face Alexander and Valentina and the general en masse. I can picture them sitting around the table, finishing their coffee, the general bristling with outrage, Valentina sly with triumph and Alexander stiff with embarrassment at my tardiness and maybe pissed off with my snarkiness last night.

  Maybe if I hurry, I can make it. As I grab my robe from the bedcover, there’s a soft knock at the door. I can’t have the staff catching me like this.

  ‘Hold on, please. I won’t be a minute.’

  ‘It’s Helen, Miss Cusack.’

  I tie up my robe and open the
door.

  Helen holds a tray with a pot of tea, a plate of pastries and a pale pink rose that I suspect came from one of her own arrangements in the hall. ‘Would you like some breakfast, Miss Cusack?’

  I open the door. ‘Thank you … but I thought young unmarried ladies weren’t allowed breakfast in bed in country houses.’

  Helen sets down the tray on the round table. ‘Oh, I think that rule went out of the window some time ago. I heard you had a headache last night and when you didn’t come down to breakfast, I thought I’d bring up a tray.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you.’

  ‘Are you feeling better now?’

  ‘Yes, much … Um, does Alexander know I’m having breakfast in bed?’

  ‘Not as far as I know, Miss Cusack. He breakfasted with his father and Valentina. Do you want me to tell him you’re eating in your room?’

  ‘No, don’t worry about that. I’ll be down after I’ve had this, and thanks again.’

  ‘A pleasure.’

  After Helen’s gone, I draw up a chair, pour out a cup of tea and nibble at a croissant, trying to work out what to say when I see Alexander again. I had hoped he might have come in to my room by now. Was I really that spiky with him last night? A few of my words come back to haunt me, particularly the phrase that had finally driven him out of the room: ‘I’d have thought you of all people would have the courage to stand up to your own father and friends.’

  I push my plate away and cross to the window, where the full grandeur of the Falconbury estate is laid out before my eyes, reminding me of how different my life and Alexander’s are. I have to admit, I wouldn’t fancy having to run this place either.

  There’s another knock at my door and this time I know it must be him.

  ‘Come in.’

  The door opens and he walks in, tall and stiff. It’s immediately obvious from his demeanour that he’s still pissed about last night.

  ‘How’s your head this morning?’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘Good.’

  He hovers, but makes no attempt to kiss me or touch me. I think he’s still simmering. He glances at the breakfast tray. ‘I see Helen’s looking after you.’

 

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