by Liz Fielding
She heard nothing more of Mike. She was somewhat surprised and slightly relieved, but on a mission to buy stamps in the post office in Oulton Mrket she saw him come in and waved. He abruptly turned and walked out. For a moment Kate could hardly believe it had happened. Then she abandoned her place in the queue and went after him.
‘Mike!’
Cornered in the marketplace, he could do nothing else but stop and face her.
‘Oh, Kate,’ he said unenthusiastically. ‘Hello.’
‘How are you?’ she asked, with a determined smile. ‘I haven’t heard from you lately.’
‘I’ve been a bit busy.’ She had the feeling that he was trying to avoid her eye and he glanced at his watch as if in a tremendous hurry.
‘Me too. And the queue in the post office was terribly long. I’ll go back later.’ He looked distinctly uncomfortable and a nagging suspicion drove her on. They were outside the Black Lion. ‘How about a drink?’ she offered. ‘It’s my turn to buy you one.’
Mike looked at his watch again. ‘I’d love to, Kate. But really I have to get on. I have an appointment.’
‘Do you, Mike? Really?’ She made no move to release him. She wanted to know what was going on. ‘Or are you just trying to avoid me?’
He opened his mouth to protest, then he shrugged. ‘I’m sorry, Kate, but Jay told me—’
‘Jay!’ she interrupted. ‘What has he got to do with anything?’
He finally looked her straight in the face. ‘He warned me off.’
She felt the colour drain from her face. ‘Warned you off?’ Her voice was faint. She hadn’t known exactly what she expected but it was hardly that.
‘Droit de seigneur and all that.’ Mike’s face was dark with embarrassment. ‘You should have told me, Kate.’ He turned and walked quickly away.
‘Should I?’ she whispered, staring at the envelope in her hands. ‘Of course I should. Why not tell everyone?’
CHAPTER SIX
KATE ripped the envelope to shreds and dropped the pieces into a nearby litter bin. Tame stuff. Her editor said her readers wanted to hear more details of Cathy’s life in the country. Well, she would give it to them. But she didn’t honestly think they would believe it.
Her fingers flew over her typewriter keys as if possessed, and when at last she sat back and quickly read through what she had written, she gave a little gasp, hardly able to believe the words had come from her. But it was all true, she told herself as she stuffed the sheets into an envelope, and she posted it before she could change her mind.
Yet even as the envelope dropped from her fingers and was beyond recall she felt a tremor of apprehension. She had been able to justify her private joke because no one would ever know it was Jay. But she knew that this time it had gone far beyond a joke and as she stood there, her fingers curled around the opening of the letterbox, she remembered the newspaper clipping that Jay had shown her. If her editor had seen it she could hardly fail to make the connection.
She turned and walked slowly back to the house. Her column had been an escape valve, relieving the steam vent of blind rage when she realised what Jay had done. It had worked, but as she turned away from the postbox she knew that she could never do it again. ‘Cathy’ would be taking the good advice of her anxious correspondents and leaving her employment with Jack Wessex. Her eyes sparked. It would serve him right if cousin Kate took over…
* * *
She didn’t see Jay until the weekend and she was so busy that it was easy to keep out of his way. But Sunday evening after dinner he cornered her in her office.
‘I’ve hardly seen you all weekend, Kate,’ he said, coming up when she was deep in concentration on her accounts.
‘There’s been a lot to do,’ she countered, and carried on determinedly, although all the figures had quite suddenly scrambled in her brain and her studious application was pretence.
‘I want to settle the final details of the charity picnic. Let’s walk down to the pub and discuss it over a drink.’
‘I’d rather do it here.’ She shifted a pile of papers from the only other chair in the little room.
He ignored this invitation and lodged himself alongside her on the edge of the table. ‘So. You are deliberately avoiding me. I wasn’t absolutely sure.’ She didn’t trust herself to reply. ‘Why?’ he demanded, clearly angered by her silence. ‘I thought we’d decided upon a cease-fire. I can’t recall anything that I’ve done recently to offend you.’
‘Can’t you? Perhaps you should think a little harder.’ Her voice was tight and she swallowed in an attempt to ease her throat. He was too close, leaning over her, one hand on the back of her chair trapping her there.
‘Why don’t you just tell me, Kate?’
She ignored this. ‘I’m ready to discuss work with you, Jay, nothing else.’ She forced herself to look up into his face, confront the slight frown that creased his brow. She could almost have believed he had no idea what she was talking about. ‘You did say that you wanted to talk about the arrangements for the picnic?’
For a long moment he stared at her. Then he pushed himself upright. ‘In my study in ten minutes.’ He turned on his heel and was gone.
She felt like the condemned man watching the clock creep around to the hour of execution. In the end it was almost a relief to rise and walk to the study door. She tapped.
‘Come in!’ His voice was impatient. He was sitting at his desk, his attention entirely devoted to a sheet of paper before him. ‘Why the formality, Kate? You don’t bother to knock when you wander about in your dressing-gown.’ He spoke without lifting his head and she didn’t answer, but lowered herself on to the chair in front of his desk.
His voice clipped, he went through the details of the charity event: publicity, the celebrities who had promised to put in an appearance, among them Annabel Courtney. His businesslike manner steadied her pulse and for a while they worked coldly and efficiently.
Finally he threw down his pen and took off his glasses. ‘Everything is apparently under control. Thanks, you’ve been a great help.’
‘I’m sure that it will be a great success,’ she said.
‘All we need is a dry day and I’ve put in a special order with my weatherman.’
‘In that case, nothing can go wrong.’ She stood up and turned to go.
‘Kate, that was a joke,’ he said, with a touch of irony. ‘Either get whatever’s bothering you off your chest or lighten up.’
Kate felt the colour rising to her cheeks but she had brought this confrontation on herself. ‘I saw Mike in Oulton Market,’ she said, hoping that would be sufficient to put an end to the subject.
‘How nice for you both,’ Jay said, and the cyncial twist to his mouth stirred the damped-down embers of her anger.
‘No, as it happens. Embarrassing is the word that springs most readily to mind.’
‘Really? Whatever could he have said that might embarrass you?’ he asked, apparently finding the idea that Mike could embarrass anyone quite remarkable. ‘I thought your relationship was supposed to be platonic?’
‘He said…’ She found she couldn’t repeat what he had said.
‘Yes?’ She had the uncomfortable sensation that he was playing with her and she didn’t like it.
‘You know exactly what he said,’ she snapped.
‘He told you about our little chat?’
‘Little chat?’ she finally exploded. ‘Is that how you would describe it? How dare you discuss me as if I were…?’ She was too outraged to go on. He hadn’t even bothered to deny it.
‘I know what I said, Kate, but I cannot begin to guess what he said to get you in such a state.’ He shrugged and walked across to the side table and poured himself a brandy. ‘Would you like one?’ She shook her head, too vexed by his high-handed behaviour to speak. Jay sipped his drink thoughtfully. ‘I had Sam in mind, you see.’
Her head came up involuntarily. ‘What about Sam?’
‘Have you forgotten how much
you love him?’ One dark brow kicked up in question. Kate’s mind went blank, but he was clearly waiting for her to say something. Justify her apparent perfidy.
‘Sam knows that…he will always come first.’
‘Does he? I find his faith in you quite touching.’ He swallowed the brandy and regarded her with glittering eyes. ‘Then perhaps we should consider Mike’s feelings. I’ve known him a long time. I wouldn’t want him to be hurt.’
She felt the colour drain from her cheeks. ‘Your loyalty to your friends is commendable, Jay.’ If she didn’t know better. ‘But I think perhaps he misunderstood your meaning. Maybe you weren’t very clear in your choice of words.’
He shrugged. ‘I didn’t spell it out in words of one syllable. Mike’s a bit of a prude, as I’m sure you’ve already noticed.’
Stung, she attacked. ‘If by prudish you mean he doesn’t proposition defenceless women going about their legitimate business, I’m inclined to agree with you.’
‘Well, that makes a change in itself.’ He poured himself another drink and without asking passed one to her. ‘Although I think defenceless rather overstates your case. You seem eminently capable of defending yourself.’ He regarded her steadily. ‘You do it so well, in fact, that one might be inclined to wonder why you find it necessary?’
She nervously sipped the brandy, choking as the spirit caught the back of her throat. When he had finished thumping her back they were standing together and his arm was around her.
‘Try again.’ He offered her the glass. ‘And this time take your time.’
‘No!’ She drew back from the glass and he put it down, but his arm remained about her shoulder and he tilted her face up, regarding it dispassionately.
‘You’re looking tired, Kate. You’re doing too much. I’ll organise some more help for you.’
‘There’s no need,’ she said stiffly, and raced on, trying to ignore the warm touch of his fingers against her skin. ‘It’s a lot easier than working freelance in London. No late nights.’
For a moment his eyes darkened, then he said, ‘Perhaps that’s the problem. You’re not getting out enough. And the solution is simplicity itself. I’ve a couple of tickets to the theatre next week in Norwich. We’ll have dinner afterwards.’
She felt near to hysteria. What girl in her right mind would turn him down? But then she hadn’t been in her right mind since she had met the man. ‘Couldn’t Annabel spare the time?’ she asked, provoked by the almost mindless response of her body to the touch of his fingers against her skin.
‘Annabel…’ The name snapped from his lips and for a moment she thought she had gone too far. Then he released her and turned away, so that she could no longer see his eyes. ‘No, Annabel can’t spare the time. She’s working this week.’ He turned back to her, the cool, cynical expression firmly back in place. ‘And since I’ve apparently robbed you of your beau—’ he paused ‘—unless of course you’ve made it up with Mike?’ She glared at him. ‘No?’ He poured himself another drink. ‘If it’s so difficult to accept a simple invitation, Kate, I can always make it an order.’
‘No, Jay. There’s no need for that.’ The situation between them had deteriorated far enough. She had already exacted revenge in her own way. They had to work together, and it was hardly his fault that she was quite unable to keep tight hold on her emotions when he was within twenty yards. ‘I’ll be happy to go with you.’
* * *
They arrived late at the theatre but, far from drawing censure, they were shown to their seats by the front of house manager just as the lights went down.
The play was Noises Off, a furiously paced comedy set backstage in a theatre, and within minutes they were both laughing furiously. By the interval Kate had quite forgotten that she had ever been angry with Jay.
They bypassed the crush bar. Instead Jay led the way backstage to the green room, introducing her simply as Miss Thornley to several formally dressed couples, who clearly knew him well and went out of their way to make her feel welcome.
Kate was glad she had taken so much trouble with her appearance. She only had one ‘best’ dress, made for a Christmas party. But the glowing burgundy silk was the perfect foil for her fair skin and had the classic good looks that would take it anywhere. She had left her hair loose and it hung, straight as a yard of tap water, black and shining down her back. As a final touch she fastened the ruby studs that her father had given her for her eighteenth birthday in her ears and nervously surveyed her reflection. She might have been pressganged into this evening out with Jay, but she was determined not to look like second-best.
He had been standing in the hall, his back to the stairs, talking on the telephone as she’d walked down the wide oak staircase earlier this evening, feeling rather like a film star in an old movie. Except that all the glamour was Jay’s. He had looked so different in formal clothes. His hair, dark, firmly under control for once, was touched by the rays of the evening sun slanting through the side windows. The black cloth of his dinner-jacket clung to his shoulders, emphasising their broad power. She’d been unaware of the little sigh that escaped her lips.
He had turned as he heard her, replaced the receiver and watched for a moment as she’d made her way down the stairs. Then he had moved swiftly across the hall and grasped her hands as she drew level with him. She paused a step above him and smiled up at him, suddenly shy.
‘Cinderella, as I live and breathe.’
Kate’s already flushed cheeks had grown pinker. ‘Just make sure I’m home by midnight, Prince Charming,’ she’d warned, to cover her confusion at his unexpected admiration.
‘Don’t tell me this turns into one of those unglamorous aprons you delight in?’ Before she could answer he’d laughed. ‘No. I have it. Not an apron. The dreaded striped pyjamas!’
He hadn’t expected a response, for which she’d been grateful, instead ushering her through the front door and over the stone bridge to a black limousine. The chauffeur had opened the door and Jay had handed her in, settling down beside her.
‘This is very grand, Jay.’
‘Do you think so?’
She had felt stupid and na$iUve. Annabel Courtney would never have said anything so crass. As if he realised, he had taken her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘I’m glad you like it.’ And he’d tucked her hand under his arm and kept her amused all the way to the theatre, with stories about the celebrities she had seen on the television.
* * *
By the time they left the theatre Kate was aching with laughter. The car was waiting for them at the rear of the theatre away from the noisy, milling crush of people at the entrance.
‘I really enjoyed myself. Thank you,’ she said, as he slid in beside her.
‘I noticed,’ he said, and Kate felt her cheeks grow warm, glad of the darkness to cover her blushes. ‘I like a woman who’s not afraid to laugh.’
‘Is that a compliment?’ she asked impetuously.
‘Aren’t you sure?’ He moved closer and took her hand in his. ‘I’ll clearly have to try a little harder.’
‘That’s not necessary,’ she said quickly, and regained possession of her fingers. ‘Where are we going?’
‘A little restaurant quite near Oulton Market. It used to be a water-mill.’
The mill was delightful, built across a fast-flowing stream, and they had to walk across a small wooden bridge to reach the dining-room, where they were immediately shown to a table by the window. Kate looked out across the stream. Floodlights lit the exterior and the ducks sleeping on the grass. ‘This is lovely, Jay.’
‘I was sure you would like it.’ A waiter appeared to serve them food. ‘I knew we would be late so I ordered earlier this evening. I hope you don’t mind?’
‘You’ve taken a lot of trouble.’
‘The greater the effort, the sweeter the reward.’
Her heart gave a little flip. ‘And what reward are you seeking?’
‘A smile will do, Kate. For now.’
&n
bsp; For now. And afterwards? Was he so confident of his power to lure her into his bed? The trouble was that, although her heart had been deep-frozen since she had broken with David, this infuriating man had managed somehow to melt that protective layer.
She was staring at her theatre programme and now, through all this confused thought, the Magnum logo jumped out at her from the inside cover.
‘You sponsored the play,’ she said, and avoided giving him the smile that she knew would have indicated her surrender. She looked up at him and for just a moment she caught a spark of something dangerous flash in his eyes. Then he leaned back in his chair and the moment passed.
‘Not personally, Kate. Magnum takes an interest in provincial theatre.’
‘That’s why you were bowed all the way to your seat, despite being so late.’
‘We were both bowed all the way to our seats, Kate,’ he said, a little sharply. ‘I did warn the front-of-house manager in advance. We arrived late because I preferred not to embarrass you by subjecting you to the speculation of gossip.’
‘You’re not normally so retiring.’ She caught her lip between her teeth, as if trying to prevent the words from escaping, but too late. It was always too late. She couldn’t seem to help it.
He smiled a little grimly. ‘When I take a model or a hopeful young actress to a London club, she will expect to see her picture in the newspaper the next day. It’s part of the deal.’ For a moment his face chilled. ‘We both know exactly what’s expected of us.’
‘I see.’
‘No, Kate. I very much doubt it.’ And for a moment his eyes remained like stone. Then he glanced at her and his mouth straightened in a smile. ‘You, however, are as unexpected as the sun on a bank holiday. Definitely not for the gossip columns.’ A cold hand touched her spine and she shivered as her mind jerked to the copy already lying on her editor’s desk for the following week’s column.