by Jillian Dagg
Tanya felt a little disoriented as she sat beside him.
He smiled. "You'd better fasten your seat belt," he told her as he fastened his own.
"Are we going around the racetrack?" she joked and he grinned.
"No, but this car's pretty powerful."
"I noticed when you came in," she told him. "It growled."
He started the engine. "Were you watching from your window?" he asked.
Tanya blushed. "I heard the car."
"I guess it's pretty loud," he said and drove down the driveway to the main road.
Tanya gave him instructions on how to get to the cemetery. When they arrived, he parked the car by the curb.
They walked in through the gates and along the gravel path, Tanya keeping her pace slow so that Richard's handicap would be less noticeable. Finally they reached his parents' graves, the coffins now interred and covered by fresh earth.
He limped up to them. Tanya stood back feeling treacherously close to tears. What was wrong with her today?
Was she crying for herself or for this virile, handsome man who had obviously come perilously close to death?
He turned around to look at Tanya.
"What was the funeral like?" he asked, his voice husky.
"Like funerals," she told him wishing she'd taken more notice of the ceremony this morning.
He took a deep breath and touched her arm. "Let's go," he said. They moved back through the graves out onto the main path.
Back in the car, he didn't leave right away, but sat staring into the cemetery.
"I feel inadequate," Tanya said softly.
"Why?" He was surprised.
"Because of all that's happened."
"Don't worry. I was just feeling guilty for not caring as much as I should."
Tanya could understand that, so she wasn't shocked by his statement.
"Actually," he smiled at her, "it's me that should feel inadequate."
"No," she shook her head, "you're fine."
"I don't mean that I'm feeling sorry for myself," he told her, "I'm worried about what's going to happen to you?"
"I can look after myself. Really."
"I believe you can. But somehow I feel responsible for you.
After all, you were in my parents' care."
"I know. But I'm nothing to you. Please."
He was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. His eyes took in the shiny auburn hair, the strange greenness of her eyes and the rise of her breasts beneath the taut blue material of her blouse.
"I suppose you wouldn't accept a gift of money?" Richard said.
"No," she shook her head vigorously. "I've got some. You don't owe me anything."
"It was just a thought," he passed off the offer.
"Anyhow, thank you for bringing me here. I'm grateful."
Then he started the Ferrari and drove back to the house.
Once inside, Richard went directly to the lounge. Tanya walked up to her room and took off her jacket and shoes.
Then, propping herself up against the pillow of her bed, she picked up a paperback that she'd been reading the night before. When things weren't going quite right, she'd always been able to escape inside the pages of a book.
This book was an adventure story with a handsome hero who she unconsciously pictured as Richard. Strange that his parents hadn't wanted anything to do with him for so many years. You'd think with a son like that they'd have been proud. She wondered if they'd known he was a racing driver and had had a bad accident. She wondered, too, if he was in love like the hero in her book. Maybe his girl was waiting for him to come back.
She became so involved in the book that she forgot the time. When she thought to look, it was past seven. It must be dinnertime. She brushed her hair hurriedly, and ran downstairs almost colliding with Louise in the front hall.
"I was just coming to tell you that your dinner is ready,"
Louise said. "I'll bring it to you right away in the dining room."
"Richard's having his in his room," Louise told her as she set a plate of food in front of Tanya. "The poor boy's not that well yet."
"Yes, I know," Tanya said. "Did you know him when he lived here before?"
"Oh yes," Louise said, "Harry used to talk to him for hours about cars. Harry's a great racing fan."
"Then you knew he was a racing driver?"
"Oh, yes we did, but you couldn't mention the boy's name without his father going off the deep end."
"Did you know he'd been injured?" Tanya asked.
"Of course. We saw it on television. It happened in America. There was a lot of controversy about it, I remember."
"In what way?"
"Oh, safety regulations, that kind of thing. It's very sad.
Poor boy. All he did was follow his heart's desire. After all it was his life."
"It is sad." Tanya looked down at her food. "You only live once, don't you?"
"Yes, dear," Louise patted her shoulder, "I know the circumstances. I'm very sorry."
Tanya looked up at her, "Are you going to stay on?" she asked.
"Miss Cheryle wants us to," Louise told her.
"That's good," said Tanya feeling sorry for herself again.
Louise patted the girl's shoulder once more. "I hope everything turns out all right for you," she said.
"I hope so too," said Tanya.
When she'd finished eating, Tanya went up to her room to read her book again. She wondered which room Richard was in. Was he sleeping already? Or was he brooding? Even though he was in complete control, he gave the impression that he was lonely.
Around ten o'clock she undressed and put on her thick wool dressing gown and went along to the bathroom. On the way back she met Richard climbing the last few stairs.
"Hello," she said, smiling, "have you been out?"
"I just felt like a breath of night air," he told her, returning her smile.
"I love night air," she said.
"So do I," he smiled again. "What have you been doing this evening?"
"I was reading," she told him. "I find it helps."
"An escape?"
She nodded, "I suppose so."
He was standing stiffly, one hand on the stair railing, the other in the pocket of his black trousers. She thought he looked tired; his eyes were red-rimmed.
"I suppose I should get to bed," she said.
"You must get your beauty sleep."
She touched her auburn hair self-consciously. "What room are you in?" she asked for something to say because she felt rather strange.
"The little one at the end of the hall. Why?" There was a glint in his gray eyes.
"Oh, I just wondered," she replied quickly.
"Then you're not planning on visiting me?" His eyes crinkled.
"Oh, no."
"I'm disappointed. I hoped that I was being offered more than a hot water bottle tonight."
She hadn't expected him to be the type of man to proposition her. Yet somehow his proposition didn't bother her like other men before him. She actually wouldn't mind...
He moved up to her and gently caressed her warm cheek before cupping her chin to tilt her face toward him. He bent his head. For a dizzy moment, she thought that he was going to kiss her and her lips involuntarily parted in expectation.
"I'm so tempted," he said. "But you've had a hard day.
Why don't you run along to bed?" He put his hand on her shoulder and half turned her toward her bedroom.
Tanya could still feel Richard's eyes on her back as she walked to her room. Behind the closed door, she took a deep gulping breath. If he'd kissed her? Her mind somersaulted at the thought. If he'd kissed her, she would have responded.
Chapter Two
Richard wasn't there in the morning. Louise told Tanya that he'd gone to the hospital but he'd be back for lunch.
Tanya stood staring out of the window eating the remains of her toast. She hated the isolation of sitting alone at the dining room table. At f
irst, when she'd found out Richard had gone, she'd thought he'd left for good and it had disturbed her, but knowing he was coming back for lunch made her feel better.
She felt restless this morning. The uncertainty of where she was going to live was worrying her more than she cared to admit.
After breakfast she put on her coat and boots and told Louise she was going for a walk. It was a dismal, cold day with no trace of sunshine. She walked up the winding pathway, kicking at an occasional clump of grass that grew up between the paving, wondering when she had to leave the house. She knew that Cheryle would like her to get out as soon as possible. She supposed she should travel to London on Monday and see about getting somewhere to live. She didn't really know any of the larger towns in Surrey well enough to go and make her home in one of them.
She wandered across one of the wide green lawns that led back to the house. She shivered. It was cold despite being late spring. Maybe she should go abroad and settle in a warmer climate than England.
Richard's car was parked outside the house when Tanya arrived back from her walk. She went inside and took off her jacket. She was eager to see Richard again, but felt a little trepidation since their encounter on the landing the night before.
She straightened her shoulders and walked into the lounge. Richard was standing in front of the fire looking thoughtfully into the flames. He glanced up.
"Hi," he said, "how are you today?"
"Fine,"she told him. "Have you had lunch yet?"
"I think Louise is fixing something." He shifted his weight from one leg to the other as if to settle himself comfortably.
"Why don't you sit down?"
"No, I'll stand," she said and walked further into the room."I've just been for a walk. It's cold out."
"England's rather dreary this time of year," he said.
"It's supposed to be almost summer," she smiled.
"Is it really?" He grinned, then asked, "Have you decided what you want to do yet?"
She shook her head, "No. Things have been going around in my mind, but nothing definite."
His eyes surveyed her, narrowing slightly while he took in her slim blue jeans, the yellow shirt blouse and the delicate gold chain that nestled against the whiteness of her throat.
"Tanya," he said, "I'm going to ask you something. It's an alternative to anything you might have thought up, and if you don't agree, you just have to say no, you won't hurt my feelings. I know you hardly know me, and I hardly know you, but you have been living in my parents' house for the past five years and I lived here for eighteen years of my life, too, so we do have something in common. I have a house in
Canada; actually a cottage. It's isolated, a place I need for my peace of mind. I live alone and could possibly manage to cope the way I am although I know it'll be difficult. You don't really have anything here in England to hold you. I suppose I could offer to pay for the rest of your education, but somehow I don't think you're the type to accept charity as you made clear yesterday."
Tanya stared at him. "You want me to come to Canada with you?" she asked, tentatively, not sure what he was telling her.
"Yes;" he said, and took a steadying breath. "Why don't you marry me?"
"Marry you?" Tanya looked at him aghast. "Marry you?"
"Why look so shocked? You're a beautiful woman."
"But we don't know each other, Richard."
"I did say you could say no if you didn't agree. Maybe you'd like to think about it. I need someone to care for me, my house, cook my meals and in return you could pursue your interests and you'd have a stable future."
As well I'd have you, she thought. "I'll have to think about it. Could I tell you in the morning?" She looked up at his chiseled features. He was smiling gravely, his gray eyes cool.
He was certainly the most attractive man had ever met, but marry.
"The morning would be fine," he said softly.
The door opened and Louise stood there with the trolley.
"Your lunch," Louise smiled. "Are you eating with Mr.
Wicklow?" she asked Tanya.
"Yes, she is," Richard said. "Just bring it in."
Louise wheeled in the trolley and put it next to the fire.
"It's cold for being so late in the season," she said. She threw another log on the fire before she left the room.
Richard pulled up a chair and sat down. Tanya went to the sofa and poured the coffee and passed him a sandwich.
"Thank you," he said, smiling. "All the comforts of home."
This is what it would be like to be his wife, Tanya thought.
To sit opposite him and share his meals—and his bed. She almost choked on her sandwich. She wasn't experienced with boys. And Richard was no boy! She remembered her meeting in the hall with him the previous night.
"What's the problem?" he asked, reaching for another sandwich.
"Oh, nothing." Her eyes moved from his face, to the muscular column of his throat.
"Are you sizing me up as a husband? What's the verdict?"
His voice sounded amused.
She looked down into her coffee cup. She really wasn't sure what to say.
"So you are considering the idea?"
"Of course. It's not every day that a woman receives a proposal."
"No, I suppose not," he said and put his coffee cup down on the tea trolley. "Maybe I should just let you go and live alone somewhere, but somehow I can't do that. I feel responsible."
"If I say no to your proposal; I will be alone," she told him.
"I know, but at least I've given you the chance."
"I told you before. You don't owe me anything."
His eyes held hers. "I'll only be giving you, security. If we are married and anything happens to me, then you will inherit what's mine."
"But surely..."
"No," he shook his head, "let's leave it for a while. Why don't we take a drive later in the afternoon? Then we can get to know each other better."
She stood up. "I'd like that." Get to know him better? She felt dizzy at the thought.
"I'll wait for you downstairs at around three," he said.
She nodded and left the lounge.
She ran upstairs and leaned breathlessly against the door.
Walking to the window, she looked out at his Ferrari parked directly beneath the steps. She tried to imagine what marriage to him would really mean. If she married him, he would probably expect her to be his wife in every way. She buried her hot face in her hands. Here in the privacy of her bedroom, she could admit the idea was not exactly repugnant to her. She had always dreamed of wearing a white dress and marrying the man she loved in a church wedding, just as she had always dreamed of having loving, caring parents. It was too late to have parents now. But this man? Even if he didn't love her, it was better than the alternatives.
Also, the idea of traveling to Canada was attractive. She had no desire to stay in England. There was nothing for her here. She had no life here; nobody who cared. Yes, she rather liked the idea of living in another country. But to do so, she would have to marry Richard Wicklow! The idea scared her more than she cared to admit. She only knew that he felt responsible for her because his parents had not provided a living for her. This was apparently his only motive in offering to share his home with her. Yet, why should he take this on?
Why should he care what happened to her? He had a full life and must certainly have girl friends, maybe even a special one. Why did he want to tangle himself up with a woman about whom he knew nothing?
It was getting close to three. She tucked a white, silk shirt into her leather belt and gave her hair a quick brush. She paused for a moment in front of the mirror. Did Richard find her attractive? Other men had; she knew that. But Richard had never even kissed her. You could hardly count his casual dismissal of her the other night as an embrace. She sighed.
He had made it quite obvious that all that he needed was help in the house, a housekeeper and cook, and possibly a nurse.
And yet what were her alternatives? A lonely, London flat?