by Carole Mortimer - Bachelor Cousins 03 - To Marry McAllister
She swallowed hard before drawing in a ragged breath. ‘I didn’t think—’ She broke off as a brief knock sounded on the door. ‘Come in,’ she invited huskily, obviously relieved at the housekeeper’s interruption as she turned to smile at the older woman.
Brice’s relief was of another kind—the housekeeper had probably just delayed him receiving a verbal slap in the face!
‘You asked me to bring the post straight in when it arrived, Miss Sabina.’ Mrs Clark held out the silver tray on which she carried at least half a dozen letters.
‘Thank you.’ Sabina’s second smile, as she took the letters, looked rather strained to Brice as he watched her from across the room.
As, indeed, it probably was! Damn it, what did he think he was doing, inviting Sabina out to dinner? She hadn’t liked him very much to start with; now she was going to think even less of him!
What on earth had prompted him to make such an invitation? Sabina had gone out of her way to show him she had no desire to be in his company, for any reason, so why put himself in this ridiculous position? Probably because of that complete aversion she made no effort to hide, he accepted ruefully.
Not that he expected every woman he met to fall at his feet; no matter what Sabina might think to the contrary, he really wasn’t that arrogant. But he didn’t usually have the effect of dislike at first sight, either!
He had had his share of relationships over the years, some of them very enjoyable, some of them not so much fun, but he could never before remember a woman taking an instant dislike to him in the way that Sabina had…
Contrarily, it had only succeeded in making him more interested in Sabina!
The housekeeper having left the room now, Brice stood up abruptly. ‘I think we may as well call it a day for now,’ he bit out harshly. ‘You obviously—’ He came to an abrupt halt, Sabina having turned sharply towards him as he spoke, dropping the letters from her hand onto the carpeted floor as a consequence.
Damn it, was he really that much of a monster to her after that stupid dinner invitation that just the sound of his voice now took her back into that ‘startled fawn’ mode? If so he—
‘What is it?’ he prompted sharply as Sabina rose slowly from picking up the dropped letters, her face not just white now but a ghastly grey. ‘Sabina…?’ He moved abruptly to her side, grasping the tops of her arms as his gaze quickly searched the haunting beauty of her face. She looked as if she was about to faint! ‘Here, sit down.’ He put her down in one of the armchairs before striding over to the tray of drinks on the side and pouring a large amount of brandy into a glass.
‘No, thanks,’ Sabina refused huskily as she looked up and saw what he was doing. ‘I don’t think my mother will be too impressed if I turn up for lunch smelling of brandy!’ she attempted to tease.
Brice knew the remark for exactly what it was—an attempt to divert his attention from the fact that she looked so awful. It failed!
He frowned down at her, feeling in need himself now of the brandy in the glass he still held. ‘Is the idea of dinner with me really so repugnant to you…?’ He couldn’t believe his invitation had had this much of an effect on her.
‘Sorry?’ Sabina frowned up at him, obviously confused by the question.
Which led Brice to wonder if it had been his invitation that had brought about this transformation in her.
But if it wasn’t his invitation that had caused her to look so ill so suddenly, what—? He looked down at the letters she had just picked up, most of them in her right hand, while her left hand tightly clutched an envelope of pale green. Gripped it so tightly, in fact, that the envelope was crushed in her fingers until the knuckles showed white…!
Brice looked down at her searchingly. She hadn’t had time to open any of the letters, and yet just the sight of that pale green envelope had been enough to drain her face of all colour!
‘Sabina—’
She stood up abruptly. ‘Of course the idea of dinner with you isn’t repugnant to me,’ she told him with forced lightness, while at the same time totally avoiding his gaze. ‘In fact, it sounds a wonderful idea,’ she accepted.
That wasn’t the impression she had given before the housekeeper had arrived with the mail; in fact Brice was positive Sabina had had every intention of turning down his invitation until that moment.
But for some reason she recognised that particular green envelope, knew who the letter was from without even opening it. And it had disturbed her enough for her to want to accept Brice’s dinner invitation…
Curiouser, and curiouser.
‘Fine,’ he said before she had chance to change her mind. ‘I’ll call for you at about seven-thirty, if that’s okay?’
‘Perfect,’ she agreed quickly, obviously anxious for him to leave now.
So that she could read the letter in that pale green envelope…?
His mouth twisted ruefully. ‘Shall I book the table for three—or will you be giving Clive the evening off?’ He certainly didn’t relish the idea of sitting down to dinner with Sabina under the other man’s watchful gaze, sitting outside the restaurant or otherwise!
Sabina gave him a reproachful glance. ‘I’m sure I can manage without Clive for one evening,’ she bit out tersely before glancing at her wrist-watch. ‘I’m sorry we don’t seem to have got very far this morning, Brice, but I’m afraid I have to go now.’ Her obvious need for him to leave now became even more intense. ‘Otherwise I’ll be late for my luncheon appointment.’
‘And that would displease your mother,’ Brice drawled. ‘And we mustn’t have that, must we?’ he acknowledged derisively.
But he really shouldn’t complain, he berated himself as he picked up his things and prepared to leave; he had achieved much more this morning than he had expected to.
Sabina had told him more about her family than he had ever thought she would, her older parents, her conventional mother who now lived in Scotland—which part? he couldn’t help wondering, with his own family connections in Scotland—her closeness to her father, his death five years ago.
Yes, he had learnt all of that about her today, and it was so much more than he had expected. But what he really wanted to know was, what was it about the letter she had received that had so upset her…? Because he was more and more convinced that it had been the letter and not him that had brought about that transformation in Sabina. Damn it, she had been so anxious to get rid of him after receiving it that she had even accepted his dinner invitation!
Maybe over dinner this evening—without the watchdog, Clive—he would have a chance to ask her about the letter in the pale green envelope…?
‘Call for you, Miss Sabina,’ Mrs Clark informed her later that day when Sabina picked up the telephone extension in her bedroom. ‘It’s Mr Latham,’ she added lightly.
Richard…!
‘Thank you, Mrs Clark.’ Sabina eagerly took the call. After the day she had just had, she was longing to hear the normality of his voice! ‘Richard,’ she greeted warmly. ‘How are you? Is everything okay? There’s no delay in your coming home tomorrow, is there?’ she added worriedly.
‘Hey, one question at a time,’ Richard’s reassuringly familiar voice teased her indulgently. ‘I’m fine. And everything is okay for my return tomorrow. I have a business meeting soon, but I just thought I would give you a call first to see how your week has been.’
Until earlier today it had been fine. She had been so busy that she hadn’t really had the time to even think about the fact that Richard was in New York for four days. But that had all changed this morning. And now she just wanted him to come home!
‘Fine,’ she answered dismissively. ‘Very busy work-wise, of course.’
‘And what are you doing this evening?’ Richard asked interestedly.
Well, so far she had showered, and washed her hair before drying it, had applied her make-up, put on a black sheath dress, and now she was sitting here in her bedroom waiting for Brice McAllister to arrive to take her out
to dinner.
But somehow she knew she couldn’t tell Richard quite so bluntly that she was going out to dinner with the other man.
She had had every intention of refusing Brice McAllister’s dinner invitation, but then Mrs Clark had brought in the post, and thrown Sabina into complete confusion. So much so that, in an effort to get Brice to leave, she had accepted the dinner invitation, after all!
But quite how she told Richard about that she didn’t really know…
She winced. ‘Actually, I’m seeing Brice McAllister this evening,’ she began reluctantly.
‘That’s good,’ Richard told her approvingly. ‘How are the sittings coming along? Has the great man come down out of his ivory tower now and realised that you’re the most gorgeous creature on two legs and that he just has to paint you?’
‘Not exactly,’ she answered dryly, at the same time knowing that Richard had completely misunderstood her reason for seeing Brice this evening, that he believed it to be for another sitting.
Not that there was anything wrong with her having dinner with another man; she had done it dozens of times in the course of her modelling career. She just knew that dinner with Brice McAllister didn’t quite come into that category…
She drew in a deep breath. ‘Actually, Richard—’
‘Just a minute, Sabina,’ he cut in apologetically. ‘I have a call on my other line.’
Sabina waited patiently while he took the other call, but the longer she waited, the more her courage was failing her. She had no doubt that Richard would have no problem with her meeting Brice McAllister for a sitting, but having dinner with the other man—with not a sketch-book or pencil in sight—was something else completely.
She wasn’t altogether happy with the arrangement herself, but, having once accepted the dinner invitation, she hadn’t felt she could phone Brice McAllister and cancel it. Part of the reason for that, she knew, was that Brice McAllister was sure to know exactly why she had cancelled it. And he seemed to find enough reason to mock her already, without adding to it!
‘Sorry about that, Sabina.’ Richard came back on the line. ‘My business appointment just arrived, so I have to go. I’ll call you later this evening if I get a chance, okay?’
No, it wasn’t okay! What if Richard telephoned while she was still out and Mrs Clark told him she was out to dinner with the other man? And yet, at the same time, she knew this wasn’t the right time to talk to Richard about it, either; he was obviously in a hurry to get to his appointment, meaning she wouldn’t be able to explain things to him properly before he had to rush off.
‘I was actually thinking of having an early night,’ she told him instead. ‘But I’ll meet you at the airport tomorrow, anyway.’ When she would definitely explain about seeing Brice this evening.
‘There’s no need for you to come all the way out to Heathrow,’ Richard assured her lightly. ‘Just send Clive with the car.’
As far as Sabina was concerned, there was every need. Besides, the privacy in the back of the car would give her a chance to talk to him on the journey home.
‘I’m not doing anything tomorrow, and I would really like the trip out,’ she assured him.
‘Okay, fine,’ Richard answered distractedly. ‘I’ll see you then,’ he added before ringing off.
Wonderful! Not only was she having dinner with a man she would rather not spend time alone with, but she had also just lied to her fiancé about it.
What was it about Brice McAllister that made her so nervous she felt compelled to do such a thing?
Those green eyes that looked directly into her soul, came the instant answer to that question.
Those deceptively sleepy green eyes actually missed nothing, Sabina was sure. He was completely aware of her aversion to sitting for him. Her nervousness about this morning’s sitting had resulted in her talking far too much. Ordinarily a very reserved person, she still couldn’t believe she had talked to Brice about her family in the way that she had this morning.
She was also sure Brice hadn’t missed her reaction this morning to the arrival in the post of that green envelope…
It had been three weeks since she’d last received one, the longest time ever, lulling her into a completely false sense of security, she now realised. Her reaction to receiving one this morning had been all the stronger because of that.
And Brice had seen that response.
Consequently, Sabina had been in a very agitated state by the time she’d met her mother for lunch. So much so that she’d almost missed what was different about this half-yearly visit to London by her mother.
‘Have you and Richard set a date for your wedding yet, Sabina?’ her mother enquired lightly as they both ate a prawn salad accompanied by a glass of white wine.
Sabina almost choked as she took a sip of that white wine. Why was it that everyone—Brice McAllister, most recently—seemed to be showing an interest in exactly when she and Richard were going to be married?
‘Not yet,’ she answered noncommittally, not even her mother having any idea of the almost businesslike arrangement of the engagement. ‘We aren’t in any rush,’ she added to take any sting out of her words, watching as her mother carefully replaced her own wineglass on the table after taking a small sip.
Everything about her mother was controlled and careful, from her coiffured blonde head down to her moderately heeled black shoes, the latter worn to complement the black suit and cream blouse she was wearing today.
Sabina loved her mother dearly, had always admired her—she had just never been able to talk to her! Which was one of the reasons these half-yearly lunches together were such a trial. To both of them, Sabina felt sure.
‘I only asked because I’m thinking of taking a short holiday early in the autumn, and I wouldn’t like it to clash with your wedding,’ her mother continued evenly.
‘That will make a lovely change.’ Sabina nodded approvingly; her mother seemed to lead a very uneventful life at her cottage home in Scotland. ‘Are you going anywhere nice?’ she added interestedly, relieved to have a neutral topic they could converse on.
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ her mother dismissed with a brief smile. ‘I—I’m going with a friend,’ she added awkwardly, her gaze suddenly not quite meeting Sabina’s. ‘We thought perhaps Paris for a few days might be rather fun.’
Sabina frowned across the table at her mother. Fun? It wasn’t a word she usually associated with her carefully controlled mother. There was something—
‘Do I know this friend?’ she prompted lightly, suddenly knowing, from the blush slowly creeping up her mother’s cheeks, that she didn’t.
Because the ‘friend’ was male!
Quite why Sabina should feel so shaken at the knowledge, she wasn’t sure. Her father had been dead for five years, her mother was only in her mid-sixties, and still a very attractive woman; tiny, her figure slim, shoulder-length blonde hair always neatly styled, the beauty of her face barely lined. But somehow the thought of her mother going away on ‘a short holiday’, to romantic Paris of all places, with a man other than Sabina’s father, threw her into total confusion.
All in all, she decided now as she gave one last check of her appearance in the mirror before going downstairs to wait for Brice McAllister’s arrival, this had not been a good day.
And she very much doubted dinner with Brice McAllister was going to make it any better!
CHAPTER FIVE
IT HADN’T needed a mind-reader, when Brice had arrived at the house to pick Sabina up half an hour ago, to know that she wished she were spending her evening in any other way than having dinner with him!
Even now they had arrived at the quietly elegant restaurant, Sabina was anything but relaxed. It was up to Brice to see that she became so. Because she might not have been looking forward to seeing him this evening, but he certainly didn’t feel the same way about spending the evening with her!
Sabina intrigued him. Her beauty was mesmerising, very much so in the simp
le figure-hugging black dress she wore tonight, everyone in the restaurant turning to stare at her admiringly a few minutes ago as the two of them had walked to their table. But it was the woman behind that beauty that interested Brice too, the intelligence behind those deep blue eyes.
Wary blue eyes. Which was why Brice had decided, before coming out this evening, rightly or wrongly, that he wouldn’t pursue the subject of her reaction to the arrival of the letter in the green envelope. Not that he intended forgetting about it, but if he pressed Sabina for an explanation this evening he probably wouldn’t see her for dust. Also, a part of him knew that she was half expecting him to ask her about it, and, perversely, he had decided not to do so!
‘How did your lunch go with your mother?’ he asked lightly instead as they perused the menus.
‘Fine,’ she answered brightly.
But Brice wasn’t fooled by that dismissive façade, had seen the shadow that had entered her eyes at the mention of her mother. He had what he considered a pretty healthy relationship with his own mother—they were good enough friends that he didn’t interfere in her life as long as she didn’t interfere in his.
But he knew from the little Sabina had told him of her own mother that the two of them didn’t have that sort of relationship.
He gave Sabina a considering look. ‘Sure?’
She frowned across at him. ‘Of course I—’ She broke off with a sigh. ‘No, not really,’ she conceded ruefully, fidgeting with her wineglass. ‘It wasn’t like our usual lunches together at all.’
Brice put down his menu, already knowing what he was going to choose, having been to this restaurant many times before. ‘In what way?’
She shrugged. ‘It seems that my mother has a boyfriend,’ she disclosed reluctantly. ‘Well…not a boyfriend, exactly.’ She grimaced at the term. ‘But there is a man she intends going on holiday with to Paris in the autumn,’ she added frowningly.
‘Isn’t that good?’ But Brice already knew that in Sabina’s eyes it wasn’t, could hear the underlying strain in her voice. ‘She’s been on her own for five years, and she must only be in her mid-sixties…?’ Sabina was only aged in her mid-twenties, and she had said her mother had been forty-one when Sabina had been born…