by Mather, Anne
And saved Gabriel the trouble of seeking her out now, Rachel added silently, aware that her hostess was watching her with intent appraising eyes. Despite the apparent warmth of her greeting, she had the feeling that Gabriel’s mother had distinct reservations about their association.
But before she could answer, the woman went on, ‘Gabriel tells me you are still living in Kingsbridge, no? You live with your mother, si? As you did when—’
‘Mamma!’
There was no mistaking Gabriel’s impatience with her questions now, and the appearance of a uniformed maid provided a welcome break in the conversation. Gabriel himself gave the order for morning coffee, and then strolled across the room to stand beside Hannah’s chair. ‘So,’ he said, squatting down beside her, ‘are you looking forward to seeing my horses?’
The little girl’s face lifted with sudden excitement. ‘Ooh, yes,’ she exclaimed, and Rachel guessed that for a few moments the child, too, had forgotten why he had invited them here. Hannah glanced apprehensively at her mother. ‘Can we go now?’
‘Presently,’ promised Gabriel gently, and Rachel was reluctantly reminded that, whatever his mother might say, she had no reason to believe his motives weren’t genuine.
All the same, it was obvious his mother was intensely curious about the situation, and Rachel wondered exactly what Andrew had told them about her. ‘Do you know, one of the mares had a foal a few days ago?’ Gabriel continued now. ‘You can help me think of a name for him, if you’d like.’
‘Is a foal a baby horse?’ asked Hannah, completely absorbed in what he was saying, and Gabriel went on to explain the different names they used for male and female animals.
Tour husband died in a car accident, no?’ remarked his mother then, taking advantage of his momentary distraction, and Rachel gave a brief nod. That’s right,’ she said, wondering why the woman considered it necessary to bring that up. Three years ago.’ Three years.’ The woman looked thoughtful. ‘And your daughter has not walked since then?’
‘No.’
Rachel stiffened and glanced swiftly at the child. But Hannah wasn’t listening to their conversation. She was too intrigued by what Gabriel was telling her. ‘Che peccato!’ The older woman moved her hands in a sympathetic gesture. ‘But she was not injured. What could have happened prior to the crash to cause such a—what is it they say?—trauma? Si, trauma.’
‘I’d really rather not talk about it—um, signora,’ said Rachel, unable to think of this woman as Mrs Webb.
Va bene.’ Belatedly Gabriel’s mother drew back from any further questions. ‘I did not mean to pry. My son will tell you I am so-o inquisitive.’
Well, that was one way of putting it, thought Rachel, deciding that the woman wasn’t half as artless as she’d like to appear. She had her own agenda. There was no doubt about that. And Rachel had the feeling that she and Hannah were unwelcome complications.
Nevertheless, what she’d said about Hannah did trouble Rachel. Although various theories had been put forward as to why the child couldn’t—or wouldn’t—walk, no one had ever suggested that it might have anything to do with what had happened before the accident. And how could it? Hannah had only been three years old, for heaven’s sake!
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE maid returned before anything more could be said. A small woman, in her forties, Rachel estimated, she was wheeling a trolley on which resided cups and saucers, cream and sugar containers, and a tall pot of coffee. There was also a glass of Coke, clinking with ice, for Hannah, and in the warming compartment below were scones already oozing with butter.
Hannah’s eyes lit up at the sight of a plate of home-made chocolate chip cookies. She had always loved the crunchy biscuits. In fact, they were one of the few things she had eaten after the accident, when for months she’d turned her face away from other food.
Gabriel rose to his feet with the maid’s arrival and helped her to unload the trolley onto the table. Rachel had the feeling this was typical of him, and wondered why she felt she knew him so well. After all, they were hardly close acquaintances. Yet, for all that, she sensed she could trust him, in spite of what her mother had said.
She had cause to revise her opinion a few moments later. To her dismay, he chose to sit beside her, and not beside his mother, and because the sofas weren’t large he couldn’t help but sit closer to her than she would have wished. So close, in fact, that she could feel the heat of his body along the length of her thigh, couldn’t help but inhale the clean male scent of him every time she took a breath.
And she took many breaths during the next few minutes. She was suddenly breathless, her lungs seemingly incapable of absorbing any air. Which was ridiculous, she knew. He was only sitting next to her, for God’s sake. If his hip was pressing against hers, he wasn’t aware of it. And if she foolishly imagined that he exuded an unconscious sensuality in everything he did, that was her problem, not his. He was just a man, after all. An older man than she was used to, perhaps, but what of it? Surely it was all the more reason for her to get a hold of herself before he noticed her dilemma. He was Andrew’s father! And she had no difficulty at all in picturing his reaction if he ever found out what was going on. Dear Lord, he would never believe that she could be sexually attracted to the man who had sired him.
She suddenly became aware that Gabriel was speaking to her now, and she was forced to turn her head and look at him. She had never seen him this close before, and her feelings of apprehension multiplied. God, she could drown in the dark intensity of his eyes, she thought weakly, hardly aware of anyone else in that moment. Her mouth had dried and she was sure the pulse in her temple must be audible to his ears as well as her own. She was aware, too, of pulses in other places, that weakened her knees and caused a hot feeling of dampness between her legs.
‘I’m—sorry,’ she got out breathily. ‘What did you say? ‘
‘My mother was enquiring how you like your coffee,’ he replied, and she wondered if it was only coincidence that made him choose that moment to run his hand over his thigh. Whatever, she had to steel herself not to react when his closest finger brushed her leg, and the impulse to grab his hand and imprison it between her thighs was almost overpowering.
What was happening to her? With heat beading on her upper lip, Rachel struggled to respond. ‘Um—as it comes,’ she said, deciding that taking her coffee black might bring her to her senses. Thank you.’
If Signora Webb was aware of the silent interchange between her son and his guest, she chose to ignore it. Instead, she poured Rachel’s coffee with an enviably steady hand before adding casually, ‘Caro, I am puzzled, no? How did Joseph lift the wheelchair into the house? It is heavy, e?’
She was speaking to Gabriel, and he looked at his mother now with cool guarded eyes. ‘How do you think he did it?’ he countered. ‘I helped him, of course. You wouldn’t have had me let Rachel do it, I am sure.’
‘Forse no. And yet she might be better equipped to lift a heavy weight than you are,’ replied his mother flatly. You know what the doctors have said—’
‘I do not wish to discuss it now,’ broke in Gabriel, clearly irritated by this unsubtle attempt to inform Rachel he wasn’t a well man. He turned back to Hannah, who was drinking her Coke through a straw. ‘When you’ve finished, well go and find the stables, hmm?’
‘Bene, ma fa’attenzione, Gabriel,’ exclaimed Signora Webb, offering the plate of scones to Rachel almost absently. ‘I do not wish to see you in the ‘ospital again.’
Rachel politely refused the scones, her mind racing with what was being said. She didn’t understand all of it, but enough to confirm that Gabriel had indeed been ill. ‘Um—if it’s too much for you,’ she began awkwardly, and Gabriel’s mouth compressed.
‘I’ve been overworking,’ he told her shortly, clearly no more pleased by her enquiry than he was by his mother’s. ‘I’ve been advised to take a holiday, that is all.’
‘No!’ His mother was indignant. You had a hea
rt attack, Gabriel,’ she exclaimed fiercely, and Rachel caught her breath.
A heart attack! She was amazed at how distressed she felt at this news.
‘I did not have a heart attack,’ Gabriel was contradicting his mother now, and she fluttered a protesting hand.
‘Cosi’ buono come,’ she retorted obstinately. ‘As good as. Why not be honest with yourself, caro? You have been told to rest, to avoid all stressful situations, to take things easy. Perché, you have even resigned from your job with the company.’
‘I have taken leave of absence,’ Gabriel corrected her, obviously getting angry, but his mother seemed indifferent to his censure.
‘You see,’ she said, turning to Rachel, and although Rachel would have liked to dismiss her words as scaremongering, there was genuine concern in her suddenly drawn face. ‘He will not listen to me. Perhaps you can make him see sense, no?’
‘Well, I—’
‘Do not try and enlist Rachel’s support, Mamma,’ broke in Gabriel harshly. He took a deep breath before turning to Rachel again with evident strain. ‘I am sorry. My mother has no right to try and involve you in our personal disagreements.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘I’m sure your mother only has your best interests at heart,’ she said awkwardly, and his mouth twisted.
‘Are you?’ he essayed grimly. ‘I wish I had your optimism.’ Then, getting to his feet, ‘I believe you have a lunch appointment, Mamma. I expect we will meet again at supper.’
‘Bene.’ Signora Webb took her set-down with good grace, briefly reminding Rachel of her son. ‘I am sorry if I have embarrassed you, Gabriel. But I think your guests should be aware of—of the situation.’
‘What situation?’ Gabriel snapped, and Rachel had never seen him so angry. There is no situation, Mamma. Enough! Let us hear no more about it.’
Hannah had finished her Coke now, and set the empty glass on the table. Then she looked at her mother with worried eyes. She didn’t like arguments of any kind, and Rachel sometimes wondered if she remembered the rows she and Larry used to have. Whatever, any upset frightened her, particularly when she didn’t understand what was going on.
‘Are you all right?’ Rachel began with a smile, trying to reassure her, but Gabriel had noticed the child’s anxiety himself.
With what must have been a supreme effort of self-control, he forced a smile and said, ‘Well, Hannah, are you ready to go exploring?’
‘Yes, please.’
Hannah looked up at him with excited eyes and Rachel sighed. It was ironic, she thought, that the only man her daughter had really taken to had to be someone whose interest in them could never mean more than it did today.
‘I want Mummy to come, too,’ added Hannah, as Gabriel took hold of her chair, and his mouth thinned into a weary line.
‘If she still wants to,’ he said, his meaning obvious, and Rachel got instantly to her feet. Whatever the future might hold, she was prepared to grab the present with both hands, however foolhardy that made her.
‘I’m looking forward to it,’ she said, fighting the wave of wild abandon that enveloped her. And he looked so relieved she wanted to hug him. Which just proved how reckless she was.
The way to the stables was through gardens already bright with the exuberance of early summer plantings. Herbaceous borders were already overflowing with flowering plants and shrubs, and in shady corners roses and honeysuckle were budding.
There was a swimming pool, protected by a hedge of conifers, and Hannah stared at it in amazement. ‘Is this all yours?’ she asked, looking up at Gabriel with envious eyes, and he nodded.
‘Why?’ He glanced at Rachel. ‘Does Hannah swim?’
‘She did,’ said Rachel in a low voice. And then, because he was obviously waiting for her to go on, ‘Before the accident. Not since. ‘
‘But surely water therapy—’ began Gabriel at once, and then frowned as if at his own audacity. ‘I’m sorry. I know nothing about it, of course.’
‘No, but you’re right,’ conceded Rachel, with a sigh. ‘Hannah’s therapist was keen on the idea, but I’m afraid we only took her a couple of times.’
‘Oh?’ Gabriel arched an enquiring brow and Rachel was forced to continue.
‘Yes.’ She hesitated. She felt awkward discussing it with him. ‘I—as you may or may not know, Kingsbridge doesn’t have any public swimming facilities. We had to take her to the nearest town. And—well, I was at college during the day, and my mother had to take her. And as she—my mother, that is—doesn’t swim—’
‘I understand.’ Gabriel interrupted her, his tone conciliatory. ‘It was thoughtless of me to say anything. I’m sure it has been difficult for you since your husband was killed.
Rachel stiffened. ‘We manage.’
She was defensive again, and Gabriel shook his head. ‘It wasn’t a criticism.
‘No.’ Rachel found herself giving him a rueful smile. ‘I suppose I don’t like talking about my personal problems either.’
‘Ah.’ Gabriel’s dark gaze swept her face. ‘You think I’m too hard on my mother?’
‘I think she’s concerned about you,’ said Rachel, with a slight shrug of her shoulders. Then, diffidently, ‘Have you been ill?’ ‘Do you really want to know?’
‘If you want to tell me.’ Rachel dipped her eyes from his disturbing gaze. ‘It must have been serious if you had to give up your job.’
‘It was my choice,’ said Gabriel flatly. ‘I didn’t want to do it. Not then. But it was impossible for me to rest and remain CEO of the company.’
Tour mother said you had a heart attack,’ Rachel reminded him cautiously. ‘You denied it.’
‘Because it wasn’t a heart attack,’ declared Gabriel, not without a trace of the impatience he’d shown earlier. ‘Stress, yes. I’ll admit to that. I hadn’t been sleeping well and I was finding it hard to concentrate. I guess I’d lost some weight, too, but that’s all.’ Then why—?’
‘Why has the old lady got it into her head that I had a heart attack?’ Gabriel sighed. ‘You can blame the medic for that. I collapsed one day at the office, and as he’s an old friend of the family he offered the opinion that if I didn’t take a break—’ Rachel stared at him. ‘Oh, Gabriel!’
She hadn’t realised she’d used his name until his face creased into a lazy smile. ‘You see,’ he said. ‘I knew you could do it.’ And, when she frowned, he added, ‘Use my name. Mr Webb makes me feel even older than I already am.’
‘So—so is that why you’ve come back here? To rest?’ she asked quickly, thus avoiding his attempt to divert her. ‘I’d have thought this was the last place you’d choose. With the plant just a couple of miles away. Didn’t you fancy somewhere else, somewhere warmer, perhaps? Like—Italy?’
Gabriel gave her a wry look. ‘I guess you’ve heard that I’ve been seeing a specialist at a hospital in Oxford,’ he said cynically. ‘Who told you? Your friend, Joe?’
Rachel’s face flamed. ‘It—it was my mother, actually. Joe has nothing to do with it.’
‘Doesn’t he?’ Gabriel sounded sceptical. ‘I’m sure he wouldn’t agree with you. He was itching to tell me to keep away from you yesterday afternoon.’ Rachel gasped. That’s ridiculous! Joe—Joe’s a friend, that’s all.’
‘You like Joe,’ said Hannah suddenly, hearing a name she recognised and distracted from trailing her fingers through the ferns that grew beside the path. ‘Grandma says so.’
Grandma would, thought Rachel grimly, wishing her daughter didn’t have such sharp ears. Though perhaps it was just as well that she did. She had the feeling she was getting into waters that were both deep and dangerous.
‘I do like Joe,’ she said now, aware that she was feeling too intense. But being with Gabriel did that to her, and the quivering in her stomach was just a manifestation of the turmoil in her head. ‘I’ve known him a long time.’
‘I don’t think your liking is what he’s aiming for,’ remarked Gabriel softly. ‘I don’t blame him
.’
Rachel shook her head. This is a pointless conversation,’ she said tightly. And then, seeing an arched gateway in the distance, she took the opportunity to draw her daughter’s attention to it. ‘Oh, look, Hannah. I can see some horses in the paddock.’
A clematis-hung wall divided the kitchen garden from the fields and paddocks beyond. The gateway Rachel had pointed out to Hannah led into a yard flanked by white-painted stables and tack rooms, and, as well as the horses visible in the paddock, a young female groom was busy currying a chestnut mare in the stable yard. She looked up with a smile when Gabriel and his guests came into the yard, and it was obvious from her greeting that he was a welcome visitor.
This is Katy Irving, Hannah,’ Gabriel declared, bringing her chair to a halt and going round it to speak to her. ‘And this mare is called Siena, which I’m sure your mother will tell you is a city in Tuscany. It’s also where my mother was born.’
Tuscany?’ said Hannah doubtfully, and Rachel quickly explained.
‘It’s in Italy, sweetheart. That’s in Europe.’
‘I know where Italy is,’ replied Hannah scornfully. Then, looking up at Gabriel, she added shyly, ‘She’s very big, isn’t she?’
‘But she’s very friendly, too,’ put in Katy before Gabriel could respond. ‘I’ll take you to see some of the other horses later. They’re not all as big as Siena.’
‘Perhaps.’ Gabriel was non-committal, and Rachel was glad he was giving the little girl time to get used to her surroundings. ‘Right now, I think I’ll introduce you to her foal. The one I was telling you about. He’s still inside.’
The one I’m going to choose a name for?’ demanded Hannah eagerly, and Rachel marvelled again at the ease with which Gabriel won her daughter’s confidence. ‘Where is he?’
‘I’ll show you.’
Taking hold of the chair again, Gabriel wheeled Hannah across the yard, and although she glanced back once, to assure herself that her mother was following, it was obvious that she trusted him completely.