'So you went to assist your mother.'
'As you know,' she granted.
'And when the business closed and you still felt the need to work you came to work here, luckily for us.'
Her eyes shot to him at those words 'luckily for us', but the pleasure, the joy she experienced on hearing him say he felt that-despite the fact she would stand toe to toe and argue with him if called upon so to do-was out of all proportion. Which, she all at once felt, with some confusion, left her feeling wide open.
Desperately she searched for some way to counteract that-and found it in a saucy, 'You'll have to watch that, Mr Tolladine. That's twice this evening you've paid me a compliment.'
She could see that she had amused him. Even as he told her sternly, 'You must be about the most impudent female I've ever employed,' there was no mistaking the gleam of humour in his eyes. And, his mind on the work theme, he asked seriously, 'What will you do after this assignment?' That
promptly sobered up her mood too. Somehow she did not, just then, want to contemplate leaving. 'Something, obviously, but what I'm not sure about.'
'Open another dress shop?' he suggested.
She shook her head. 'My mother's been told by her doctor to rest. Nothing life-threatening,' she quickly added. 'But...'
'But if you open a gown shop locally, your mother will find it impossible to keep away?' He at once understood.
She smiled at him for his understanding, and felt like so much jelly when he smiled back. 'As you said yourself--the Prestons are workers,' she murmured, glanced down at her coffee-cup and saw that somehow, without knowing it, she had downed the coffee he had poured her. It was time, she decided, that she went and got her head together. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin, placed it on the table and stood up. 'I'd better go and see if the children need anything,' she murmured, about the best she could do just then in an exit line. 'Goodnight,' she said as she turned from the table-and found Vere there at the door before her.
When he did not immediately open the door for her to go through, though, she looked up at him, found he was looking down at her-and was rendered almost speechless when he quietly asked, 'Why didn't you tell me that your kissing visitor of yesterday was your brother?'
'How did you find that out?' she gasped, not certain her jaw had not dropped again.
'It wasn't difficult,' he drawled. 'In fact, so uncomplicated you wouldn't believe. On the way back Kitty and John were counting up how many had been at the party-which, my ears picked up, had included an Alex, who had the same name as Fenne's brother, who'd come to see her yesterday.'
'Ah!' Fabienne murmured as she took that on board. 'Ah, indeed,' Vere replied, and insisted, 'So tell me,
why did you not tell me that the kissing you were doing yesterday was a kiss of greeting to your brother?'
'What-and risk you having a good opinion of me?' she countered saucily.
His answer was to place his hands lightly on her tiny waist while the corners of his mouth turned fascinatingly upwards. 'Did I mention that you were the most impudent of women?' he queried.
The corners of her mouth went up too. She saw his glance go to her mouth, and stay there. 'You-um-might have done,' she answered huskily, and felt her world swim when gently, unhurriedly, and giving her all the time in the world to pull away if she so desired, Vere slowly took her in his arms. Fabienne could not have pulled away had her life de-pended upon it. When his mouth gently met hers, so her heart thundered so loudly she thought that he would hear it. She felt his body near to hers, and moved in closer, and, putting her arms up over his shoulders, kissed him back. It was a warm kiss, a wonderful kiss, and she never wanted it to end.
But it did end. As unhurriedly as it had started. She felt the pressure of Vere's arms about her increase then slowly their kiss broke, and slowly he took a half-step back.
There was a warm, exciting look in his eyes as he stared down into her limpid brown ones, and his voice was warm, too, when softly he murmured, 'Perhaps I'd better let you go.'
There was no perhaps about it as far as Fabienne was concerned. She had always scoffed at the old-fashioned women 'swooning' but Vere was having such an effect on her that she felt just then that if she did not go, and quickly, she might swoon straight away. She searched for some bright, brittle quip of parting, but there just wasn't one. For one of the very few times in her life she was stuck for words.
'Goodnight,' she replied, not recognising that husky voice as hers and, as miraculously she found the door open, she fled. The only thought in her head as she went hastily up to her room was, Vere Tolladine, you're just going to have to stop doing that. How could any man, so easily, so entirely without effort, make such a nonsense of her?
Fortunately-or unfortunately; Fabienne was undecided which-there was no space in which to dwell on the effect Vere Tolladine had on her over the next few days. Because firstly Kitty awoke with a headache the next day-too much excitement the day before, Fabienne rather thought-and did not want to go to school. It was one of the few mornings when Rachel was up too, if not fully awake-her thoughts most definitely elsewhere, anyhow, as she absently told Kitty that she need not go to school that day.
'If she's not going to school, I'm not going!' John declared, and from the stubborn look on his otherwise sweet little face Fabienne knew she was going to need all her tact and patience to get him there.
But, to her great surprise, she heard Rachel tell him that if he did not want to go to school then he need not. She opened her mouth to protest, but abruptly closed it. The twins had been through a lot and Rachel, their mother-not she-knew them far better than she did. If Rachel decreed that they need not go to school, who was she, at this stage of their healing development, to say a word against that?
The upshot of the whole matter, however, was that the children dawdled and would not be hurried and, by the time she had them out on the landing ready to go down to breakfast, Fabienne was in time to see Vere's departing back as he strode down the hall to the rear exit to where his car was garaged. There followed a day when Kitty and John seemed positively to egg each other on to see who could be the most badly behaved. It was a wet day out, and they invaded the kitchen before she could stop them. But even Mrs Hobbs, who bribed them with cake and other goodies, eventually lost patience with their bickering and gave up on them.
'Some days are like that,' Fabienne apologised as she herded them out of the kitchen and racked her brains for something for them to do that would not elicit a 'don't want to' response.
By the time dinnertime that evening arrived, Fabienne was feeling very much frazzled around the edges, while Rachel was showing definite signs of being weepy.
Any hope that Vere's influence at dinner might make things better was doomed when they discovered that not only was Vere not dining with them that evening, but he was not home yet.
Some days are definitely like that, Fabienne mused, feeling, she had to own, a touch out of sorts when she went to bed that night. And yet, somehow, she had a feeling that it was not the children's naughty behaviour that was the cause of her 'out of sorts' feeling.
To her further surprise Rachel was again up and about early the next morning and Fabienne was put to wondering if she was trying to wean herself off her sleeping-pills. She seemed quite decisive, too, for when John this time said he had a headache, she at once stated that since it was the last day of the school week, he and Kitty might as well have that day off too.
'Mind, I want better behaviour from the pair of you today,' she warned, when Fabienne had thought she had not so much as noticed the first-class impression they had given yesterday of being two little horrors. That Friday was not the best Friday of Fabienne's life. It started off badly in that Vere was not there at breakfast-time. And while she was certain that she did not give a
hoot that, obviously, he had not been home all night-she hoped he had enjoyed himself, whoever she was-thoughts of Vere seemed to pop into her head at any idle moment
throughout that day. Not that there were many idle moments, for the children, though angelic by comparison to their behaviour yesterday, were alternately fractious and clinging.
'Do you have to go away tomorrow?' John asked her at one point, all large eyes, husky voice and heart-tearingly-sad-looking.
'I'll be back Sunday evening,' she told him brightly. 'But it's not the same,'
Kitty complained.
'Oh, you'll be all right,' Fabienne told them bracingly but, as the pair kept up with the same theme for what seemed like hours, she knew that it was only the fact that it was her father's special birthday on Sunday that stopped her from promising she would stay. Even Rachel, too, all sad and unhappy-eyed, seemed to be pleading with her not to go.
By then, if it were not for the fact that she intended to give her mother all the help she could on Saturday, Fabienne was sure that she would otherwise not have left Brackendale until Sunday, and for that day only.
Then the phone rang and Rachel answered it, and passed it to her. 'It's for you,' she smiled, and shepherded the children from the room so that Fabienne could take her call in private.
It was her mother, ringing to remind her that it was her father's birthday.
What was the matter with everyone? First Alex ringing and leaving a message with Rachel to remind her, and now her mother!
'I haven't forgotten,' Fabienne answered-and just then saw that John had sneaked back and was looking soulfully at her. Guilt clutched her conscience. 'Though-' She broke off as Rachel came and rounded John up.
'Don't say you're not coming!'
'Yes, I am, of course I am. It's just-well, the twins are having a bit of a bad day and don't want me to leave them.'
As she had so many times in the past, her mother found an instant solution. 'Then bring them with you!' she declared. 'We've heaps of room, and-'
'Oh...' Fabienne stalled. 'Rachel's unlikely to let them come without her.'
'I should think not, indeed,' Clare Preston declared stoutly, and Fabienne came away from the phone to go looking for Rachel. It was a half an hour,
though, before she could get her on her own to extend her mother's warm invitation to her. 'Oh, I don't know,' Rachel hedged, but Fabienne had seen the way her eyes had lit up at the idea. 'I'm sure you'd enjoy it,' she pressed. 'Just as I'm sure the change will do you good. But, apart from that, my family would love to have you.' As dinnertime that evening approached the only person left to tell that he would be having his home to himself was Vere. Fabienne pondered if it was her place to tell him or if she should leave it to Rachel. But since he was her employer, and since it was to her home that they were all going-and since Rachel, with John helping, was engaged in battle with truculent Kitty on the non-packing of a pair of shocking-pink socks-Fabienne slipped downstairs a few minutes before the others.
She found Vere in the drawing-room and, ignoring the idiotic skipped beats of her heart on seeing him there, tall, sophisticated and all man, she launched straight away into why she had sought him out-and watched as his expression went from urbane to hostile.
'You're all going to Lintham?' he barked harshly.
Who rattled his cage? In a split-second she was denying that her heart had ever, for the briefest of moments, skipped a beat on seeing him. 'Why not?'
she challenged, sparks of defiance immediately flashing in her eyes.
'Your parents are getting on-they can't possibly want the fuss and bother of a pair of children-'
'Yes, they can!' she interrupted hotly. 'It was my mother's suggestion, as a matter of fact. Besides, it will do Rachel a power of-'
'Rachel knows of this invitation, does she?' he questioned bluntly.
'And approves!' Fabienne tossed at him crossly.
'Then far be it from me to do anything to upset your arrangements!' he grunted.
When Fabienne went to bed that night she found it just impossible to get Vere's hostile attitude out of her head. Why, though, was he so hostile about Rachel and the children leaving Brackendale for just two days and one night? She was awake long into the night, puzzling it over. You'd have thought, bearing in mind the terrible time he'd had of it that other wet weekend, that he'd be thrilled to bits to have his home all to himself for the first time since Easter.
Perhaps, though, he'd some other outing planned for them and she, by taking them to Lintham, had messed that up? Fabienne discounted that idea as soon as it was born. If Vere Tolladine had made plans for the children that weekend, then, without a doubt, her telling him that they were all going to Lintham would have received just one answer-that answer being, 'Tough'. So why was he opposed to Rachel and the-? Her thoughts broke off right there.
And a second later she was recalling his harsh 'You're all going to Lintham?'-and suddenly, wretchedly, Fabienne had the answer. It was not the twins so much that he objected to having a weekend away from Brackendale-but Rachel!
Fabienne discovered she was shaken to her roots at the possibility that Vere was in love with his stepbrother's widow but, as such thoughts plagued her for most of the next morning, she could find no other explanation. Vere was not about when they left for Lintham, where they were warmly received by Fabienne's parents. Fabienne entered into the generally jolly atmosphere, but the whole while she could not stop thinking of Vere. Was his love for Rachel the main reason why he had taken Rachel and her children to live at Brackendale, and not, as she'd thought, because his sensitivity, his sense of responsibility was such that there had been no way he could leave them muddling on, clearly not coping, in the situation he'd found them that Easter.
Alex and his son Philip came to stay on Saturday afternoon and Alex it was, after a glance at Rachel's pale features, who suggested a walk of discovery in the fields and lanes that were close by his parents' property. 'I don't think...'
Rachel began.
'You won't need a coat,' Alex smiled. 'I'm sure it won't rain. Where's your lead, Oliver?' he addressed the ever hopeful Jack Russell.
Because there was quite a bit of preparing still to do for tomorrow's lunch party, Fabienne stayed behind. An hour went by, and then two, and a short while later a happy band of walkers and discoverers returned.
Fabienne was delighted to see that Rachel had a hint of colour to her face, but felt that she might need her own space for a while. As, apparently, so too did her mother, for it was with a wealth of compassionate tact that she suggested, 'If you'd like to go upstairs and rest for a while, my dear...' Rachel had gone up to her room and Fabienne was alone in the kitchen a short while later when her brother came in. 'Fenne,' he said, and she knew that tone.
'You want something?' she teased accusingly-but saw, instead of laughing, that he was deadly serious.
'I want to take Rachel out to dinner, but she says she can't because it would be too much of a cheek to expect you to keep an eye on Kitty and John at weekends as well as in the week.'
To say that she felt shattered by this most unexpected development was an understatement. But Alex was her brother and she loved him dearly-and she could not think beyond that at this moment.
'Bon appetit-with my blessing,' she grinned-and Alex went whistling out of the kitchen.
Five minutes later Tom Walton phoned. 'Seems years since I saw you, Fenne.'
It was two weeks. 'Can you come out to play tonight?'
'If I can bring a pair of seven-year-olds with me-and an eight-year-old,' she added for good measure, with no intention of going out anywhere.
'In the words of the bard-stuff that, Juliet! What are you doing tomorrow?'
Fabienne laughed, turned him down for tomorrow too, and went back to her chores-and back to her thoughts
of how, ever since yesterday evening when she had gone to see Vere, her head had been bombarded with one startling thought after another. If asked, she would have sworn that neither her brother nor Rachel were remotely interested in keeping company with the opposite sex yet. Yet Alex had asked, and Rachel had accepted.
But Fabien
ne discovered, after Alex and Rachel had gone, that her surprises for the day were not yet over. Kitty, John and Philip were safely tucked up in bed, her father was watching television-his chores for the day completed-and she was finishing off the preparations in the kitchen with her mother, when she thought to thank her parent for inviting Rachel and the children that weekend. 'I probably would have invited them anyway,' her mother replied-and added to Fabienne's astonishment, 'But in actual fact it was Alex who suggested I should do so. 'Alex did?'
'I know,' her mother agreed. 'But isn't it wonderful that, after all the hurt and suffering he went through with Victoria and the divorce, he now seems to be getting over it?'
Fabienne went to bed that night feeling more mixed-up than ever. Vere? Vere and Rachel? Rachel and Alex? Her head ached.
The party for her father the next day was all that it should have been. He was happy. 'You shouldn't have!' he protested at the gold cufflinks Fabienne gave him.
'Yes, I should,' she laughed, and hugged and kissed him as did most everyone else.
His brothers and sisters-in-law, cousins and friends, all arrived midmorning for a celebratory drink and, although some of them afterwards left, it was still a large party who sat down-later than planned-to lunch. Mrs Cooper, their daily, came in unusually on a Sunday to help out, but even so, with Rachel and Alex helping, it was getting on for eight by the time the dishes were washed, put away and the house anywhere near back to rights. Strangely, when Fabienne had always loved her home, she experienced an almost overwhelming anxiety to get back to Brackendale. And very near panicked when her mother suggested that, because of the lateness of the hour they should stay another night.
'Kitty and John have to be at school tomorrow,' Rachel declined, though seemed as reluctant to go as the twins looked.
'We'd better go,' Fabienne suggested, relieved that they were going, but now anxious to be on their way.
Goodbyes were said, and as Fabienne set the car in motion her emotions had never been more turbulent. She had seen the way Alex had seemed to be in earnest conversation with Rachel a time or two, and also on saying goodbye.
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