'Good morning! Room service, madam!'
'Wh-what?' Sleepily, Briony raised herself on one elbow, red curls in disarray, the thin straps of her nightdress slipping from her shoulder, revealing the gentle curves and swell of her breasts. Her skin was of a creamy paleness often found in redheads. In an appealingly childish gesture, she knuckled sleep from her eyes and then stared disbelievingly.
Teale stood in the open doorway to her bedroom. He held a tray and there was the tantalisingly fragrant smell of fresh coffee and toast.
'I don't know if you're a breakfast eater,' he said cheerily, 'but I'm starving.'
Briony continued to stare at him. Obviously he had showered, for his dark hair was still damp. Curls slicked wetly about his brow and neck. He was wearing a towelling robe that belonged to Promilla. It was just about the right width. But the length! Three-quarters on her plump friend, it reached barely to mid-thigh on Teale.
He followed the direction of her gaze, down over muscular, hair-roughened legs, and his smile became rueful.
'It was all I could find.' He moved towards the bed.
Mesmerised, Briony watched as he set the tray on the bedside table. There were two cups, two plates and he had toasted what must be nearly half a loaf of bread. He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough for her to touch if she'd had the courage. Belatedly, she remembered her scanty attire and pulled the sheet up around her shoulders, catching his amused smile. Swallowing, she dragged her eyes away from him and looked towards the corner put-you-up, where his son had slept.
'Where's Scott?'
Teale jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen.
'Out there, demolishing a couple of boiled eggs. His appetite has certainly improved.' As he spoke, Teale poured coffee.
Briony took her cup with a tremulous hand. She was wide awake now, but she still felt unprepared to cope with the unexpectedness of his presence in her room, here actually sitting on the side of her bed. If only the apparent intimacy of this breakfast a deux were the real thing, she thought wistfully. If only Teale had just left her bed, and would soon be returning to it to make love to her once more before a new day began. She felt her cheeks go pink, and it was an effort to meet his eyes when he spoke again.
'Thanks for the overnight refuge and for listening to my morbid ramblings. You're a good pal, Briony! I don't think I could have driven home last night. I was absolutely whacked.' As he munched toast and sipped coffee he looked about him with interest, and Briony found herself seeing her room as if for the first time, through his eyes.
If the living quarters were an amalgam of the two girls' interests, Briony's bedroom was uniquely her own. Soft Laura Ashley prints gave it a golden aura that in the subdued lighting gave emphasis to the creaminess of her skin, the vital copper of her hair. There was a wealth of colour, texture and pattern. One wall held a collection of exquisitely executed water-colours, the work of an aged great-aunt from whom Briony supposed she must have inherited her love of art.
'A brass bed?' Teale said questioningly, his gaze returning to Briony.
'Not the genuine article, I'm afraid. It's only reproduction. I'd never be able to afford the real thing. But the quilt—' she stroked it lovingly '—is real. One of Prom's auction-room finds.'
'Ah yes, that reminds me. Auctions. There's a supposedly good one towards the end of next week, down Bideford way. Would you like to go? It would mean an early start. We might even combine it with some more sight-seeing.'
'Sight-seeing?' she laughed. 'In November?'
But Briony felt as though she'd been offered the Crown Jewels. She was careful, though, to moderate her pleasure. If Teale suspected for one moment that she felt anything more for him than friendship, he would withdraw again behind his barriers. To him, she thought wistfully, she was just 'a good pal'.
'But you'll come?' As she nodded, unaware of the revealing light in her eyes, he muttered, 'Briony…' He leant towards her, his tone suddenly urgent, and Briony's heart pounded in her breast, her quickened breathing disturbing the lacy edging of her nightdress. 'I…'
'Briony,' a small voice said plaintively, and Scott appeared in the doorway, a large slice of toast clutched in his hand, 'when are you getting up? Tara and Stripey want their breakfast, and I can't open the tin.'
'I think,' Briony's voice was a little shaky, 'we'll ask Daddy to open the tin while I get up.'
She hadn't imagined that moment of tension, she told herself as she showered and dressed. If only Scott's arrival had been delayed by a second or two more, she might have known what Teale had been going to say.
With a happy small boy seated between them, delighted to be in the company of his two favourite people, and the satisfied cats purring on the hearth, breakfast was a pleasant meal. It was almost possible to imagine they were a family, Briony thought as she looked from Teale's face to that of his son.
The occasion must have reminded Scott of yesterday's conversation for suddenly he said, 'Daddy, I wish Briony lived with us always. She could be my new mummy, couldn't she?' Then, as Briony wondered whether her heart really had stopped beating, he looked at her appealingly. 'Auntie Rhoda said my real mummy's soon going up to heaven to live with the angels, so she won't be able to live with me.'
Briony dared not look at Teale. The blood seemed to be pounding in her face and head, deafening her so that his words seemed to come from a long way off. But his tone was even and matter-of-fact as he said, 'Briony's a very busy lady. She hasn't got time to be anyone's mummy. I'm afraid you'll have to settle for her being an auntie.'
Briony found her voice. 'Will that do, Scott?' she asked still avoiding Teale's gaze.
'Is an auntie as special as a mummy?' he said doubtfully.
'Almost.' She nearly choked on the single word, and indulged in a fit of coughing to disguise its cause. 'Cereal went the wrong way,' she croaked when Scott obligingly patted her on the back.
'Would an auntie live with us?' Scott asked his father. 'Because when I was in London with Mummy I had a lot of uncles and they stayed with us, in Mummy's room. Mummy said it was because we hadn't enough bedrooms. But we've got a lot of bedrooms, haven't we, Daddy? So Auntie Briony wouldn't have to share yours. Unless, of course,' he added generously, 'she wanted to.'
'Time I was on my way,' Teale announced, pushing back his chair. 'You said Rhoda's due back tonight? Is it OK if Scott stays till then?' He seemed in a sudden hurry to depart.
That's right, Briony thought indignantly, leave me to answer the awkward questions! Aloud, she said, 'Of course he can stay.'
She accompanied him to the door. She'd been hoping he'd stay a little longer, she thought forlornly. In fact, she'd hoped he'd remain all day. She'd looked forward to making his meals, perhaps watching television together or taking a walk. But perhaps that smacked too much of the domesticity Teale deplored. Undoubtedly Scott's ingenuous remarks had embarrassed him.
'I'll be in touch—about the auction,' he said as he took his leave, and her heart lifted just a little.
'Keep your eyes open for antique lace and linens. Some of these old farmers' wives are notorious hoarders,' Promilla adjured Briony as she waited for Teale to arrive a few days later. The auction near Bideford was to consist of effects from two or three farmhouses from surrounding areas. 'And,' she added with a wicked twinkle in her eyes, 'don't let the love-light blind you to any defects.'
Small chance of that, Briony thought as the Rolls pulled away up the steep hill out of Gwinvercombe. Teale's greeting had been polite, even friendly, but by no stretch of the imagination could it have been called loverlike.
'Did Promilla enjoy her weekend in London?' he enquired after a particularly long silence which Briony found herself powerless to break.
'Very much,' she said, relieved by the introduction of this non-controversial subject. 'She's been thinking lately of visiting an elderly great-aunt in Karachi. Now we've got Rhoda to help out with the sewing, she's finally made up her mind to go—over Christmas and the New
Year.'
'Alone?'
'No. I think that's what finally decided her. She visited some old friends of her parents and they told her their son was off to Karachi shortly to see his grandparents. They offered his services as an escort.'
'So you'll be alone over Christmas?'
She waited breathlessly for him to extend an invitation, but none was forthcoming.
'Not quite alone. At least, I hope not. I've invited… someone to spend a few days with me. I haven't heard yet whether or not they can come.'
Then he raised the subject she'd been dreading. 'I'm sorry,' he said brusquely, 'if Scott's remarks the other day embarrassed you.'
'Oh!' she said swiftly, then added untruthfully, 'I wasn't embarrassed, just amused. Children see things in such an uncomplicated way.'
'Yes.' He sounded relieved. 'What sort of stuff will you be looking for today?' he asked, and the conversation moved into safer channels.
The auction room, an enormous apartment behind an estate agent's office, was crammed with articles for sale and with prospective purchasers. There was an hour before the sale was due to start, to give buyers a chance to examine the various lots. Briony and Teale had already decided that they would split up for this exercise, meeting again at a pre-arranged point to confer before the bidding began. It was a pity they hadn't been able to come for the viewing on the previous day, Briony thought as she struggled through the press of people and tried to ex-amine lot numbers without giving away her interest. She made surreptitious notes on her catalogue of the prices she was prepared to pay.
'Looks as if we'll be here all day,' Teale commented as they compared notes. Happily, Briony reflected that she wouldn't mind if the proceedings took a week, so long as she could be with Teale. The press and jostle of people around them meant that they were forced to stand close together, and several times Teale had to steady her as someone struggled for a better vantage point. 'Fortunately, the auctioneer breaks at one o'clock for lunch,' Teale went on. 'If possible, we'll slip out before that, because there'll be an absolute stampede for the only pub.'
The bidding started slowly with the miscellanea which Briony always found tedious. Outdoor items, garden tools, old cookers and electric fires. But at last the action moved to the quality pieces and from then on it was fast and furious. Teale had several pieces of antique furniture knocked down to him, including another harmonium which Briony would dearly have loved to possess. But even if Teale hadn't been bidding for it himself the price soared far beyond her range. She was successful, however, in obtaining the materials Promilla wanted.
'Anything else you want to bid on before lunch?' Teale asked; as she shook her head, he suggested, 'Right, let's get over there before the rush.'
The Sir Walter Raleigh was already busy, but they managed to find a corner seat. Briony looked around her appreciatively. She loved the atmosphere of old hostelries: the dark oak beams, the glint of brass and copper. She had always enjoyed watching people, too, and this she did, wishing she'd thought to bring a sketchbook, while Teale fought his way to the bar to order their meal. This consisted of a very creditable steak, though Briony groaned over the inevitable chips.
'I shouldn't have thought you had to worry about your figure,' Teale said. It was the nearest he'd ever come to a personal remark. If, Briony thought, you discounted those he'd made at their first encounter, when she'd found his open appraisal of her femininity decidedly insulting.
But over lunch his conversation consisted of generalities about topical themes, such as the auction, and Briony asked him about the book he was currently writing. Since she'd met Teale, she'd re-read those of his books she possessed with greater attention, looking for the man she knew behind the author. She thought perhaps Teale's own attitudes were revealed in the cynicism of his characters, particularly with regard to male/female relationships.
'Is it going well?'
'No, dammit! And I can't think why. I know what I want to write about, the characters are clear in my mind. I'm working under the usual conditions. Rhoda's being a brick and keeping Scott out of my hair. And yet I find myself unable to concentrate. Normally I wouldn't break off for a day out like this, but I found the more I tried to overcome the block the worse it got.'
'Maybe, subconsciously, you're worrying about something?' Briony suggested.
'Hmmph,' he grunted. 'Maybe. But if I am it must be buried pretty deep down. I've had something on my mind, I grant you. But I wouldn't say it had been worrying me exactly.' But he did not offer to confide in her.
The afternoon bidding saw several more lots attributed to Teale, and Briony was successful in obtaining some items of antique jewellery. But by mid-afternoon they felt they had done sufficiently well. Payment made and delivery of their purchases arranged, Teale suggested they make for home, stopping off somewhere for afternoon tea. He was very quiet on the return journey and Briony respected his uncommunicative mood. She wondered if he was thinking about his book or whether he was mulling over the undeclared subject which he had denied was a problem.
He made only one remark before they stopped for tea, shooting her an oblique glance as he did so. 'You're a very restful person to be with, Briony. A lot of women seem to find it necessary to gabble on continuously.'
'I've always thought there's such a thing as a companionable silence,' Briony said serenely.
'Exactly. But it's rare to find someone capable of observing it.'
A slight detour took them to Appledore, one of Teale's favourite villages, he revealed, and he suggested they look around before the light failed. With its narrow streets and lanes, it was a place to be explored on foot and it had a history to be discovered. The churchyard was filled with the graves of those who had given their lives to the sea—captains, pilots and master mariners. Old cottages were decorated with figureheads or inscribed plates above their doorways. Later, they found a small cafe which served Devonshire cream teas, and Briony was surprised and dismayed to discover how fast time was moving.
'Do you never wish,' she asked Teale in an unguarded moment, 'that you could stop the clock at a point where you're really enjoying yourself?'
He considered her question.
'I suppose I must have done, in the past. But I can't say there have been many such moments of late.'
And that puts you firmly in your place, she told herself wryly.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Teale redeemed himself, however, as they made their way back to the car. He stopped suddenly and looked down at Briony.
'What a boor you must think me!' As she looked at him enquiringly, he explained, 'I've just realised, back there you paid me a compliment. At least, I assume you meant you were enjoying today? My company?' Briony nodded somewhat ruefully. 'I'm sorry, Briony, I really am. Please don't think I haven't enjoyed today, because I have, immensely. I suppose when I answered your question I was thinking more of earth-shattering moments which, let's face it, don't occur that frequently.' He stopped and grinned lopsidedly at her. 'Am I making things worse?'
'Of course not,' she assured him. 'I know exactly what you mean.'
'Look,' he said as he held the car door open for her, 'don't let's end the day with me dropping you off in Gwinvercombe. Come back to the house. Scott will be thrilled to see you, and later we'll listen to more music and I'll rustle us up some supper. How does that strike you?'
If she'd had any pride, Briony supposed she'd have made some plausible excuse. She'd already given him pretty good reason to suppose she didn't want this day in his company to end. But where Teale was concerned she didn't seem to have much pride.
'I'd like that,' she said instead.
In the event, she saw very little of Scott, for it was nearly his bedtime when they reached the manor house. But she was able to tuck him into his bed and promise she would see him again very soon.
'Poor little mite,' she said to Teale when she came downstairs. 'Do you think he misses his mother too dreadfully?'
'At times, I imagine.'
Teale ushered her into the drawing-room and moved to put a record on the stereo. 'How about some Mozart tonight?' As she nodded, he sat beside her and reverted to the subject of his son. 'But he seems a well enough adjusted child, and he has Rhoda as a substitute. Oh,' as Briony drew in a slightly disapproving breath at his casual manner, 'I do my best, naturally. I'm not a monster. I'm fond of the boy, but I am a. busy man. Which is why…' He was on his feet again, restlessly circuiting the room. 'Look, Briony, about what Scott said the other day… He dropped a bit of a clanger, didn't he?'
She didn't pretend to misunderstand. 'I told you, it didn't bother me. He's only a little boy. He can't be expected to understand…'
'True,' he nodded, 'but we're not children. And I think the time has come for plain speaking between us.' He said it without looking at her.
Waiting in the tense atmosphere that filled the room for him to continue, Briony felt she could hardly breathe.
'Over the last couple of months I've come to value your friendship, Briony. You're talented, intelligent, good company—and something more. You also have integrity.' He hadn't complimented her on her looks, Briony thought wryly. 'So much so,' he went on, 'that I feel I can be entirely honest with you.'
'You always have been. You've told me a lot about yourself; things you needn't have told me.' She was suddenly afraid of what he might be about to say.
'Things that very few people know about. But that's you, Briony.' He paused for a moment and studied her face, his own expression inscrutable, then went on, 'You seem to draw me out. It's years since I talked to anyone the way I've talked to you these past weeks.' He was silent for so long that Briony began to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny of intent grey eyes, began to wonder if he'd changed his mind about revealing himself further. But then he came back to sit beside her and, to her amazement and disconcertion, he took one of her hands in both of his.
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