She stared at him, astonished. ‘Am I allowed to ask why?’
Ewen shrugged. ‘I need protective cover. One of the guests invited tends to come on a bit strong these days since my modest success.’
‘Man or woman?’ asked Rosanna, grinning.
‘A man would be easier. He wouldn’t want to marry me.’
‘Oh, dear—the fate worse than death again. You need a minder!’
‘No. A companion.’ He moved nearer. ‘Will you come?’
Rosanna thought it over. A lunch party with a lot of people was harmless enough, surely. ‘Do your people know my connection to Harry—and Rose?’
‘Of course they do. They’re very anxious to meet you.’
She smiled, capitulating. ‘All right. What shall I wear?’
Ewen’s eyes gleamed triumphantly. ‘Anything you like. I’ll pick you up about twelve.’
Rosanna spent Saturday with Louise, who whistled, astonished, when she heard Ewen Fraser was taking her to a family party.
‘Well, well,’ she said with relish. ‘Does David know?’
‘It’s not that kind of thing at all. I’m just going along as Ewen’s cover.’
‘Cover for what?’
‘He’s having trouble with some woman who wants his body now he’s got money.’
Louise regarded her friend with sparkling eyes. ‘Is his body worth having, then?’ She stared, astonished. ‘Lordy, lordy, Rosanna Carey. Is that a blush?’
‘Certainly not. I never blush.’
‘Normally no. I’d kill for that creamy skin of yours. But you definitely changed colour just then.’
Rosanna hastily diverted Louise by asking for help to find a dress for the lunch party. And quickly regretted it. Louise’s taste inclined to the spectacular, and she was frankly disparaging about Rosanna’s choice of a sleeveless shift in sea-blue linen.
‘Perfect for making a hit with his family,’ she agreed, grudgingly. ‘But something slinkier would have been better for frightening off the competition.’
Rosanna got home late, tired after Louise’s idea of an action-packed day. She would have liked to check with Ewen if her gift of Charbonnel & Walker chocolates was to his mother’s taste. But there was no message from him this time. And she was disappointed. So much so that when David rang as she was going to bed, giving her the choice of dates in early August for her trip, she was a lot more demonstrative than usual. He was surprised, and asked why.
‘I miss you,’ she said emphatically, and later, after she’d put the phone down, she repeated to her reflection, ‘I do miss David. A lot.’
Rosanna woke to a Sunday of hot, cloudless sunshine, slightly nervous at the prospect of meeting Ewen’s parents. He rang during the morning to say he would collect her at twelve, and she would need something to tie over her hair.
Intrigued, Rosanna found a blue-striped yellow scarf of her mother’s, hoping it wouldn’t cause havoc with her hair. She had left it loose to soften the effect of the severely plain dress, and felt quite pleased with the result as she opened the door at Ewen’s ring.
But it wasn’t Ewen. A tanned, scowling young man brushed past her into the hall, brandishing an envelope.
‘Hello, Charlie,’ she said, resigned. ‘Had a nice time?’
‘What the hell is this, Rosanna?’ he demanded.
‘You can read, Charlie. It’s my resignation. I told you about it before you went on holiday.’
‘I never thought you were serious!’
‘Because you didn’t listen. Where’s Helen?’
‘I dropped her off at her mother’s to dish out presents, and so on—but never mind that,’ he said irritably. ‘I refuse to accept this. I insist you stay until I find someone else.’
‘Do you, now?’ said Rosanna, eyes flashing. ‘Look here, Charlie, I only helped you out as a favour.’
‘I paid you a salary!’ he said, injured.
‘A pittance, you mean,’ she snapped. ‘Out of the goodness of my heart I toiled for days after you left to clear everything up. But you can have all that for free. You’d have to get someone else soon, anyway, when I start teaching again.’
‘Oh, come on, Rosanna; be a sport and come back until then, at least!’
‘No can do, I’m afraid.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Sorry to rush you, but I’m going out. Give my love to Helen.’
‘You’ve got a nerve!’
‘That’s rich, coming from you, Charlie,’ she retorted. ‘You’re the one with nerve. A word of advice. When you find my replacement, pay her more, iron your own shirts and make your own lunch.’
‘All right, all right. You’ve made your point.’ He summoned up a coaxing smile. ‘Look, Rosie, at least stay until I find someone else. I suppose I can scrape up a bit more money.’
‘It’s not a question of money, Charlie. Call an agency and get a temp. I’m working for someone else until term starts.’
Charlie grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, glaring down at her. ‘What the hell’s got into you? I thought we were friends—’
‘Is anything wrong, Rosanna?’ said a menacing voice from the doorway.
Charlie’s hands dropped, his face flushing as he turned to confront an openly hostile Ewen Fraser.
Rosanna’s smile was radiant with relief. ‘Ewen, you’re on time. Let me introduce you. Ewen Fraser, Charlie Clayton.’
Ewen nodded curtly.
‘Hi,’ muttered Charlie.
‘We must be going,’ said Rosanna firmly. ‘Goodbye, Charlie. Tell Helen I’ll ring her.’
‘How’s David?’ he asked deliberately.
‘He’s fine. Working hard. I’ll tell him you asked.’ Rosanna propelled Charlie to the door, said her goodbyes and closed it behind him, then leaned against it, blowing out her cheeks.
‘Are you all right?’ demanded Ewen, seizing her hands. ‘My gut reaction was to haul the jerk off and thump him. But it could have been David, for all I knew.’
‘Charlie’s an old college mate, a bit hot-tempered, but harmless enough.’ Rosanna pulled a face. ‘My notice didn’t go down well. He was trying to persuade me to go back to him.’
‘I gathered that.’ Ewen released her hands abruptly. ‘Did he succeed?’
‘You know very well he didn’t,’ she retorted.
Ewen reached out to touch her cheek. ‘I’m glad.’ He smiled crookedly and moved back. ‘Sorry. Not in the contract.’
Rosanna resisted the urge to put a hand to the place he’d touched and turned away to eye her reflection. ‘Will I do?’
Ewen looked her over with unhurried, relishing scrutiny. ‘I just hope the journey doesn’t spoil such ravishing perfection.’
‘Why should it?’ she asked curiously as she locked up.
‘I’ve brought the Morgan.’
The green two-seater sports car stood at the kerb, the distinctive style so little changed over the years that one look at it shrieked its origins. Rosanna’s eyes sparkled with amusement as Ewen ran a possessive, caressing hand over the bonnet.
‘She’s very beautiful,’ said Rosanna with suitable respect, and tied the scarf over her hair, secretly praying she wouldn’t look a total wreck by the time they got to his parents’ house.
‘I always hankered for one of these. When I began earning a bit from my writing I placed my order right away, but I had to wait four long years for her,’ said Ewen, handing Rosanna into the passenger seat. He looked down into her face. ‘But I’m a patient man. All things come to those who wait.’
The words evoked a shiver somewhere in the region of Rosanna’s blue linen midriff, and she put sunglasses on to hide any similar reaction on her face. He looked good himself today, she admitted secretly. His dark hair gleamed with copper lights in the noon sunlight, and he wore a light blue shirt with the pale linen suit she’d seen before. He might not be possessed of movie star looks, but there was something about him that stirred a response inside her she’d never felt for anyone since meeti
ng David. Ewen Fraser possessed an indefinable charisma which far outshone mere good looks. Something to guard against by remembering the other women who’d fallen victim to it.
‘We match,’ she commented, flicking a finger at her blue dress.
He slanted a significant look at her. ‘I know.’
‘My dress is new. I bought it yesterday,’ she said, unruffled. ‘I hope it’s right for the purpose.’
‘If you mean for charming my parents—’
‘I meant for frightening off lady predators,’ she retorted.
Ewen laughed as he threaded the Morgan through the traffic. ‘Perfect for that, too.’ He glanced at the gold rose pinned to her shoulder. ‘I see you’re wearing the brooch again.’
Rosanna nodded. ‘My flatmate Louise vetoed my pearls. Too dull for words, she told me. My taste in clothes invariably disappoints her.’
‘It doesn’t disappoint me!’
‘Thank you. Where are we headed?’
‘My parents moved into one of those riverside flats a few years ago.’
Rosanna couldn’t hide her tension when Ewen eventually drove into the car park of a building converted from warehouse origins into stylish apartments.
‘I’m nervous,’ she confessed in the lift.
‘Of meeting my parents?’
She nodded, fiddling with the posy slotted through the ribbon bow on the chocolates.
‘Why?’
‘Because they know about Rose.’
The lift glided to a halt, and Ewen took her hand as they stepped out onto a quiet hall at the top of the building. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe,’ he whispered, and pressed the bell on one of the doors.
The woman who opened it to them was enough like her son to need no introduction. After Ewen had kissed her she gazed at Rosanna in silence for a moment, then smiled apologetically and held out her hand. ‘Do forgive me, my dear. Ewen did warn me, but the resemblance to your grandmother’s photograph is quite startling. Welcome, Rosanna. I’m Mary Fraser.’
‘It’s very kind of you to invite me.’ Rosanna returned the smile, and held out the offering. ‘I hoped you’d have a sweet tooth.’
‘I do indeed,’ said Mrs Fraser warmly, ‘but my mother’s is sweeter still. Why not give the chocolates to her, instead? Come and meet my husband.’
Alec Fraser’s only resemblance to his son was the hair, iron-grey but still luxuriant, which had obviously once been like Ewen’s. He greeted Rosanna warmly, in accents which still retained their unmissable Edinburgh flavour, and took her into a large room with a magnificent view of the river. The room was packed, but there was a drop in the level of noise for a moment as Ewen placed a hand under Rosanna’s elbow and propelled her towards a very elderly lady seated in a high-backed chair.
‘Hello, Grandma,’ said Ewen, and knelt by her chair to hug her. He took a small package from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Happy birthday.’
Rosanna stiffened. Birthday?
‘My favourite perfume,’ said his grandmother in approval. ‘Good boy. Thank you, Ewen.’
‘This is Rosanna Carey,’ he said rather loudly.
‘No need to shout,’ said the old lady. Her eyes, hazel like Ewen’s, lingered appreciatively on Rosanna’s face. ‘No need for an introduction, either. You’re Rose Norman’s granddaughter.’
Rosanna nodded shyly. ‘Yes, I am. How do you do?’ She proffered the chocolates. ‘Ewen didn’t tell me it was your birthday. Will you accept these with my good wishes?’
‘With pleasure, my dear. I adore chocolates. At ninety,’ added the birthday girl with a twinkle, ‘chocolate is the only sin left to me.’
Rosanna laughed, feeling more at ease, her fleeting anger with Ewen subsiding when he told his grandmother he was stealing Rosanna to introduce her to everyone before lunch. ‘Afterwards,’ he promised, ‘I’ll bring her back and you can talk to her as long as you like.’
He was as good as his word. With an arm linked through Rosanna’s he introduced her to a selection of uncles, aunts, cousins and family friends, until her head was reeling by the time Mary Fraser came to the rescue.
‘For heaven’s sake give the poor girl a drink, Ewen.’ She smiled at Rosanna with sympathy. ‘I hope you’re not too overwhelmed with Frasers and Hiltons.’
Rosanna was provided with a glass of wine, then drawn into a group of Ewen’s contemporaries. They were all friendly and welcoming except for the woman who sailed across the room to seize Ewen by the shoulders and give him a lingering kiss. She was tall, with expensively cut red hair, and opulent curves displayed to advantage in the type of dress Louise had urged Rosanna to buy. Printed chiffon over a nude underslip gave the startling impression that the lady was wearing only a few scattered flowers.
‘Darling!’ she said, hooking her arm in Ewen’s. ‘Where have you been? I’ve missed you horribly.’
‘Working hard, Geraldine,’ he assured her. ‘Let me introduce you to Rosanna Carey.’
Geraldine turned a baulked, green gaze on the girl Ewen held firmly by the waist. ‘Hello,’ she said indifferently, and turned her attention back to Ewen. ‘You never answer my calls, you heartbreaker. You can’t be busy all the time.’
‘I’ve got a deadline to meet,’ he said smoothly, and with faultless manners chatted pleasantly for a moment or two. ‘Forgive me, Gerry,’ he said eventually. ‘Must circulate.’ He detached her scarlet-tipped hand, kissed it gallantly, then took Rosanna to join a group of cousins who teased him unmercifully about his new celebrity status.
‘Is he a pig to work for?’ asked one of the young women.
‘No, not at all.’ Rosanna smiled demurely up at Ewen. ‘He’s shut in his study upstairs all day, and I work downstairs.’
‘But we meet occasionally over the lunchtime sandwiches—which I get delivered,’ added Ewen, grinning down at her.
Rosanna found she was enjoying herself, and soon discovered that more eyes than the spectacular Geraldine’s were turned in Ewen’s direction. Every woman in the room, young or old, related or not, responded to the charm he made no conscious effort to exert. It was a very relaxed, lively gathering who eventually enjoyed lunch served from a lavish buffet. Ewen’s grandmother was given a special tray, and made much of, to her obvious delight. When everyone toasted her in champagne later, and sang ‘Happy Birthday’, she blew kisses in all directions, then gave Ewen an imperious wave.
‘You’ve been summoned,’ said Ewen, escorting Rosanna across the room. ‘Grandma wants a chat. Do you mind if I leave you with her for a while?’
‘No. But take care,’ she muttered in an undertone. ‘Geraldine’s hovering, ready to pounce.’
He smothered a laugh, provided Rosanna with a foot-stool at his grandmother’s knee, then went off to help his mother pass out slices of birthday cake, an adroit manoeuvre which kept him out of Geraldine’s clutches very neatly.
Clever devil, thought Rosanna, not for the first time. ‘It’s a lovely party, Mrs Hilton,’ she said aloud.
The old lady patted her cheek, smiling. ‘My dear, let me introduce myself properly. Hard to believe now, I know, but I’m Harry Manners’ baby sister. Harry showed me Rose’s photograph long ago, when I was very young.’
‘Oh. I see,’ said Rosanna huskily.
The keen old eyes misted a little. ‘I was desperate to marry some unsuitable fellow. Harry was ten years my senior, very much the professional soldier by that time. And very reserved. But to save me from a terrible mistake he confided in me; told me why he’d never married.’ Mrs Hilton shrugged ruefully. ‘It made my little romance seem very tawdry. And not long afterwards I met the real love of my life, and Harry, bless him, never even said “I told you so”.’
Rosanna clasped her hands round her knees, deeply moved. ‘Thank you so much for telling me. Have you read Rose’s diary and letters?’
‘Certainly not, my dear.’ The old lady leaned to pat Rosanna’s hand. ‘Harry left them to Ewen. He was very fond of the boy. I’ll wait
until the book comes out,’ she added naughtily, and Rosanna chuckled.
‘It’s worth waiting for, I promise.’
‘Do you like my grandson?’ asked Mrs Hilton without warning.
Rosanna blinked, startled. ‘Why, yes—yes, I do.’
‘So do I.’ The old lady beckoned to Ewen. ‘We’re getting a bit maudlin. Take Rosanna back to the others, and ask Mary to make me a cup of tea before I go.’
‘Go?’ said Rosanna, jumping up.
‘I live in a retirement home, my dear,’ said Mrs Hilton, chuckling. ‘Five-star accommodation, my own room, television and video recorder. Which I know how to operate, too,’ she said smugly. ‘Come and visit me there. Ewen can bring you.’
People were beginning to leave, and Ewen was helping his parents see them off when Rosanna found herself alone with an attractive, fair-haired young woman who’d arrived late.
‘I’m Nicola Blake,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘I’ve just arrived home on holiday, nearly missed the party.’
Rosanna took the hand, smiling. ‘I’m Rosanna Carey. Are you a cousin, too?’
‘Not exactly. My sister Priscilla over there married Ewen’s cousin Mark. I made the effort today because it was Mrs Hilton’s ninetieth birthday. I felt I couldn’t miss it. She’s such a grand old lady.’
Rosanna liked Nicola Blake on sight, and would have been happy to chat with her for a while, but Ewen joined them quickly, his face wary.
‘Hello, Nicola. Better late then never.’
She smiled brightly. ‘Just got back from foreign parts, Ewen. I couldn’t let jet-lag keep me away on your grandmother’s special day.’
‘Very kind of you. You’ve met Rosanna?’ asked Ewen.
‘We introduced ourselves,’ said Rosanna, looking from one expressionless face to the other. ‘We discovered we were kindred spirits.’
‘In what way?’ he said sharply.
Nicola smiled at him. ‘We seem to be the only non-relatives at the party.’ She finished her wine and handed him the empty glass. ‘I must be going. Nice to meet you, Rosanna. I’ll just have a word with your parents, Ewen, then I’ll beg a lift from Priscilla and Mark. Goodbye.’
The Temptation Trap Page 7