T P P Hl

by SJ

  ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Mia said, pushing her plate away and leaning her elbows on the table. ‘Everything was going well, and I thought that this time I’d found someone I could tolerate for the next forty years…but lately he has seemed…different… somehow. Always wants the last word. Always thinks he’s right. And very determined about certain things.’ She paused. ‘And last night—we’d seen a good film, had supper, and then he started nagging me about something. And guess what—when I told him to go, if that’s how he felt about me—he did. Go, I mean. Just marched out with not another word.’

  ‘Well, if you told him to go, then it’s not surprising that he did,’ Sebastian said briefly. ‘What else did you expect?’

  Mia stared across at him. ‘I did not expect him to go, Seb! I did not expect that at all. I expected him to stay and be reasonable. To try and see my point of view for once.’

  Sebastian shrugged. ‘I don’t understand females,’ he said. ‘If a woman showed me the door, I’d be gone without a backward glance.’

  ‘What exactly is it that you don’t agree about, Mia?’ Fleur asked gently. ‘Is there a particular sticking point that gives rise to a lot of other silly arguments?’

  Mia thought about that for a moment. ‘He accuses me of being over-adventurous, of always having mad ideas…I mean…I want…I’d love to do a parachute jump…’ She paused. ‘But he’s more cautious than me, and doesn’t want me to do it. Says life’s too short to take unnecessary risks.’ She hesitated. ‘I suppose you can understand it because his best friend was killed doing one a year or so ago.’

  ‘Then you certainly can understand it,’ Sebastian said firmly, ‘and doesn’t it tell you something, Mia? That the man cares enough for you that he doesn’t want you to come to any harm? He could say, Carry on and good luck, but he wants you in one piece, presumably so that you can spend a lot more time together.’ He shook his head as he looked across at his sister. ‘When are you going to grow up and settle down, Mia? I seem to remember spending most of your teenage years—and afterwards—catching you as you fell out of trees, or into rivers.’ He put his napkin down and stood up. ‘Anyway, I’m with Mat, who I thought was a pretty sound bloke, by the way. I’d prefer you not to go jumping out of aeroplanes just for the fun of it. Because—’ he looked down at her seriously for a second ‘—it’s up to you to provide the next generation for Pengarroth Hall—that’s the least you can do in return for all the privileges that come with the dynasty.’

  Mia pretended to sulk. ‘Well, thanks for your support, Seb. And anyway, what about you?’ she said. ‘Why can’t you do something about making sure the line continues?’

  ‘I’ve decided to leave that bit to you,’ he said, going over to look out of the window. ‘I’ve already planned to give up what’s left of my life to run the place as efficiently as it’s been done for generations. That’s enough to be thinking about. The baby business is yours.’

  ‘Well, that’s all right then,’ Mia said sarcastically. But it was obvious that chatting about her love life with the others had allowed her to see things in a different light. ‘Anyway, Mat did ring me this morning—with a sort of apology,’ she conceded. ‘So I’ll for give him.’ She smiled cheerfully. ‘He can be a darling,’ she said, ‘and as long as he lets me win some of the arguments, I expect we’ll end up together.’

  ‘Winning half of the time is a perfectly reasonable expectation,’ Sebastian said. ‘Give and take. Win some, lose some. It’s called being reasonable.’

  He’s back in lawyer mode again, Fleur thought.

  Later, they sat there in the beautifully furnished room, lazily reading the Sunday newspapers.

  ‘By the way, Mia, the law event is the Saturday after next—remember I told you about it? It’s a bit earlier than usual,’ Sebastian remarked.

  Mia stood up to consult her calendar. ‘Oh, dear, I had forgotten, Seb.’ She ran her finger down the page. ‘Sorry, but it’s out of the question, I’m afraid. Big do at work. Can’t possibly miss it.’ She looked across at Fleur. ‘But Fleur might be able to go with you…’

  Fleur coloured up at the words. Mia was at it again—making arrangements for other people.

  Sebastian said, ‘Would you be free on that day, Fleur? It’s something I just have to attend every year and it’s…useful to have a companion.’

  ‘What he means is it helps to keep predators at bay,’ Mia said, grinning. She looked down at Fleur, who was still sitting at the table. ‘You’d love it, Fleur—it’s always in a splendid hotel, great dinner, entertainment…and usually goodie bags for all the ladies.’

  ‘Well, I’ll have to see what…’ Fleur began hesitantly, getting her diary out of her bag. Quick, make up something, she told herself—but make it sound genuine. She turned the pages of the little book—but the date was completely free. And, when she looked up, she saw that Sebastian was gazing at her with that inscrutable expression which defied any excuses she might come up with. ‘I can probably go with you…’ she began slowly.

  ‘There you are, then. That’s settled.’ Mia beamed as she went towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll fill the dishwasher and Seb can make the coffee. He makes great coffee,’ she said over her shoulder to Fleur.

  Much later, after they’d had coffee with Mia, Fleur and Sebastian made their way back to her flat, Fleur desperately trying to find a way of saying something about the impending law dinner without sounding negative.

  ‘Are you sure you want me to come with you to the law dinner, Sebastian?’ she asked as casually as she could, gazing out of the side window. ‘I’m afraid Mia has a gift for putting you in awkward situations—she’s done it before, hasn’t she? Aren’t there lots of lovely lawyers who’d be pleased to accompany you?’

  He didn’t even look at her as he replied. ‘There are. But I don’t want them to accompany me, thanks very much. I see quite enough of them without sharing my Saturday evenings with them.’ He paused at the last set of traffic lights before they reached their destination. ‘I’m glad Mia suggested you come, Fleur. I can’t think of anyone who’d fill the vacancy with more grace.’ Now he did look at her, and his eyes were glistening darkly. ‘Don’t worry about it. Having to suffer my company can be a small payment for painting your ceiling.’

  They pulled away again and, when they reached her flat, he turned off the engine and looked down at her. ‘When do you want me to come and finish it all—the glossing, I mean? You don’t want the job hanging around, do you?’

  ‘Oh, there’s no need for you to come back and do anything, Sebastian—I can manage that all right. But…thanks for the offer.’ She hesitated. ‘Would you like to come in for a…drink?’ she asked, though thinking that she didn’t want anything else to eat or drink until at least tomorrow.

  ‘No, thanks, I’ll be on my way,’ he said. He got out of the car and came around to open her door. ‘Well, have a good week—and don’t overdo it, will you.’

  She smiled up at him quickly. ‘Thanks for your concern, Sebastian. I’m sure I’ll survive whatever they throw at me.’

  She watched him pull away swiftly and stood for a moment before going inside. She had very mixed feelings about her date with Sebastian…. very mixed feelings about him full stop. The thing was, she knew that she was in love with the man, but didn’t want to be. Being heavily involved wasn’t how she’d imagined her life to ever be. With anyone—anyone at all.

  She let herself into the flat and threw her bag down on the sofa before going over to look out of her bedroom window. It was already dark outside, the lamps of the park throwing their yellow glow across the trees and bushes, illuminating the few people still strolling around. If she tried really hard, she could imagine that she was back at Pengarroth Hall, back amongst the scenery, the greenery, might even be able to smell the damp earth, the leaves, the freedom.

  Then she turned away decisively. She must stop this daydreaming, she told herself. And she must never go back to Pengarroth Hall. It was safer to stay here, fo
r this was where she belonged, not there. And if Sebastian did get in touch with her again—before the dinner date she’d agreed to—she’d make an excuse, any excuse, not to meet up until then. Distance was the safest thing.

  She smiled faintly as she took off her coat. You’d be proud of me, Dad, she thought. Resist all interruptions to worthwhile plans—wasn’t that what he always said? It wasn’t her fault that Sebastian had turned up last night, or that Mia had invited them to lunch, or that she had been more or less forced to accept the law date with him. None of that was her fault. But not to worry. She’d be careful not to step too far out of line.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SITTING pensively in front of the mirror in her bedroom as she smoothed body lotion along her neck and shoulders, Fleur anticipated the evening ahead with some misgivings. The night of the law dinner had come all too quickly. She’d tried to put it from her mind.

  Two weeks had passed since she and Sebastian had had Sunday lunch with Mia, and during that time Fleur had done her best not to think of him. This had been helped considerably by the fact that there’d been a particularly absorbing project at work, no one leaving the laboratory until eight o’clock for several days running, so that by the time she eventually got home and prepared herself a meal, bed and sleep were all that mattered.

  She frowned slightly as her thoughts ran on. Sebastian, too, must have obviously been very occupied, because the only contact he’d made had been one message left on her answering machine, hoping that she was OK, and also that the rest of the painting in her kitchen had gone well. She made a face to herself as she remembered that bit—she’d not had the chance, nor the inclination, to complete the job. It would have to wait until things quietened down at the lab.

  Anyway, as far as this evening was concerned, she knew that the only reason she’d been invited to the event was to act as a decoy for Sebastian. To protect him—how had Mia put it?—from predatory females. Well, that was fine by her. She’d play the part, no problem. And knowing that that was the sole point of her being there would help her to enjoy herself, with no underlying emotional pressures. Her expression cleared. It could prove to be a rather special game of make-believe, she thought, with her and Sebastian the only ones in on the plot. And, afterwards, he could go on his merry way and leave her to go on hers.

  His secretary had phoned the night before to explain that he had arranged to send a cab for her at seven o’clock, and exactly on time her doorbell sounded. Picking up her pearl coloured faux fur wrap and a clutch bag, she left the flat and went downstairs. A uniformed chauffeur stood there with the car door already open and, feeling as if she were about to go to a command performance, Fleur picked up the hem of her skirt and got in. Well, that was what this was, she thought—a command performance—though she doubted whether there’d be any red carpet waiting for her.

  It took less than half an hour to reach the grand London hotel and, as they pulled up, an official doorman came forward to hand her out of the car. Inside, the brightly-lit and luxurious entrance was thronging with people in full evening dress, and for a second Fleur felt like turning around and running away. She wasn’t used to this kind of thing, she thought, and although there had obviously been a few special occasions in her life where everyone had dressed up, they had been few and far between. And they were certainly not her preferred way of spending an evening. But…she’d agreed to come so she’d better make the best of it.

  Almost immediately, Sebastian was at her side and as Fleur looked up at him she felt a tremor run right through her. He looked suave, immaculate—and painfully desirable—in a beautifully-cut dinner suit, his hair dark and glossy—and slightly in need of a cut, she thought instinctively, but it suited him like that—and, as usual, with the advantage of his height, he stood head and shoulders above everyone else around. She was aware again of the cut of his jaw, the strength of his shoulders, and as he stood there now, totally relaxed among people he knew and who knew him, she could almost feel the powerful awesomeness which seemed to radiate from him. He smiled down at her, taking her arm and leading her towards the cloakroom.

  ‘Do you want to leave your wrap?’ he asked. ‘I can assure you that you’ll be warm enough in the function room, but perhaps you’d rather hang on to it?’

  ‘No, I’ll leave it,’ Fleur said.

  ‘Then I’ll wait here for you.’

  After leaving her wrap with the attendant, Fleur went into the adjoining powder room to take a last look at herself in the mirror. There were several other women there, touching up their make-up, and she could hear the conversation of a few of them who were standing around by the door.

  ‘Well, no one’s seen him with anyone,’ someone said, ‘not for a long time.’

  ‘Doesn’t he usually bring his sister?’ someone else enquired. ‘I liked her—she’s a really friendly, bubbly girl.’

  ‘Not like him, then,’ was the next remark, and everyone laughed.

  ‘Oh, he’s all right,’ another one said, ‘when you get to know him. Personally, I like the strong, silent type. I wouldn’t throw him out of bed, that’s for sure.’

  ‘Dream on,’ said the first girl. ‘Anyway, he’ll be out of our lives soon, and the place won’t seem the same without him. He’s going down to the family pile in Cornwall, apparently, to run their estate.’ She sighed heavily. ‘What a waste of a man—to bury him down there amongst all those pixies and pasties!’

  Everyone laughed again as they opened the door to leave, and the parting remark which Fleur heard was, ‘Anyway, he’s definitely not the marrying kind—not any more.’

  ‘Shh,’ someone warned quietly, ‘he’s standing there outside.’

  Fleur stood rooted to the spot. It had been clear to her from the outset that the women had been discussing Sebastian and, although nothing really derogatory had been said, it had made her feel uncomfortable—and defensive—to hear him talked about. And it was also completely understandable why he should not want to come to this function alone, she thought—not if he wanted to avoid unwanted attention.

  She left the room and went across to join him. She was going to enjoy carrying out her mission tonight, she thought, and she’d make a good job of it. She’d give those women something to talk about!

  Now that he could see her properly, Sebastian made no secret of the fact that he was almost bowled over by her appearance.

  ‘I’ve never seen you in that colour before,’ he murmured slowly, staring down at her. ‘It…it really suits you, Fleur.’

  ‘I’ve only got three good occasion dresses,’ she admitted, ‘and at first I’d decided to wear my black one, but then I thought everyone would be wearing black. So…’ she smiled up at him ‘…I thought I’d be different.’

  The dress was a flame-red, slinky, full-length number, scoop-necked to reveal the slenderness of her neck and shoulders, and the skirt was slit up one side to reveal just enough thigh to be teasingly-seductive as she moved. He noticed that she was wearing slightly more make-up than usual, with the addition of a slick of eye liner and some smoky shadow, and her hair was centre-parted with a lustrous chignon coiled expertly at the back. Her only jewellery seemed to be the same white gold hoop earrings he’d seen on her before, but the whole package was breathtaking—and he knew there’d be plenty of eyes on both of them during the evening. Could this be the next Mrs Sebastian Conway, they’d all be asking themselves, against all the odds? Well, he’d answer that—not a chance. Not because he wasn’t interested in her—but because he knew that she wasn’t interested in him. Charming she certainly was—especially at this moment because he was aware that she’d tucked her small hand into his arm, an unusual act of familiarity on her part. But charm by itself did not equate to feeling anything about someone, he knew that. It was merely a superficial pleasantry. He sighed briefly to himself. He’d better concentrate on this evening—an occasion he usually dreaded rather than looked forward to—and on making sure that Fleur enjoyed herself. He glanced down at
her, at the top of her head, at her shining golden hair as they made their way through the crowd… He somehow didn’t think it was the sort of event which would appeal to her much, either. In fact, he knew very well where she’d rather be at this moment—tramping through all that wet undergrowth at Pengarroth Hall!

  In the crowded reception area, wine was handed around freely and dozens of different conversations soon filled the huge room, everyone talking loudly in order to be heard. Sebastian introduced Fleur to several people—whose names she knew she’d forget almost immediately. But everyone was chatty and friendly and she smiled happily, thinking what a good thing it was that she was not here as a romantic partner of the man standing so possessively beside her. Because it meant that she could relax totally, without worrying about emotions and feelings. She was here for a practical reason—to ward off unwanted admirers—and just as well, she thought, because she couldn’t help noticing the covetous glances directed at Sebastian from time to time. He certainly did need protecting, and there were many attractive, beautifully dressed women he could choose from. But, for a change, she was to be his ‘minder’—and she was going to make the most of it.

  At the signal, they all went into the massive dining room and took their places at one of the round tables, each set for ten people. There were four men and six women on theirs and as they sat down Fleur looked up at Sebastian and smiled provocatively. Let those females without escorts be in no doubt that he was spoken for! And he smiled back, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. He obviously intended to play his part, too!

  ‘Are you OK?’ he asked out of the corner of his mouth. ‘It’s not so good being somewhere among complete strangers, is it…not knowing anyone.’

  ‘But I know you—and that’s all that matters,’ she replied softly, holding him captive once more with that hesitant, lazy lowering of her eyelids.