Gracious Lady

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Gracious Lady Page 6

by Carole Mortimer

His brows rose again. 'Is it?'

  Sophie gave a rueful smile. 'To tell you the truth, I don't actually know!' she confided. ‘I was to work for Mr Grant too, but it didn't work out,' she dismissed with a shrug, realising even as she did so that she was perhaps confiding too much to this man; he was probably Maximilian Grant's friend as well as his assistant.

  Paul Wiseman's attention seemed to sharpen at that. 'Oh, yes?'

  Was it her imagination—was she just too sensitive to the situation here—or did this man suddenly seem wary too? 'Don't worry.' She gave a dismissive laugh. 'I wasn't after your job! Nothing so grand.' She grimaced. 'Child companion is about my limit at the moment. Although Jennie is far from being a child.' She pulled a rueful face at the memory of the self-possessed young lady who had invaded her bedroom earlier.

  'At the moment?' Paul Wiseman repeated curiously.

  Sophie frowned at the way he homed in on that part of her conversation, trying very hard to dismiss the feelings of irritation this man gave her. After all, she didn't even know him. But it was just very disconcerting the way he seemed to ask her questions without actually giving much away about himself, only his name and that he worked for Maximilian Grant and that he had driven down here this morning to join him. And that still rankled with Sophie too, if she was honest; Maximilian Grant had all the rest of his time to work, day and night if he chose to, so surely it wasn't too much to ask for him to spend some time with his daughter during her school holidays? If that was the case, then she couldn't actually blame Jennie for taking matters into her own hands and deciding for herself where she wanted to spend the week!

  Consequently her own reply to Paul Wiseman's probing was sharper than it might otherwise have been. 'It's human nature to want to better oneself. I don't intend spending all my time as a part-time student and filling in with an assortment of jobs at the same time!'

  Paul looked at her searchingly. 'Part-time student?' he echoed softly. 'Of what?'

  This man had no right having brown eyes that should have been warm and friendly, when he was almost as sharp as his employer! She had told him far too much about herself already, and she had no intention of telling him any more, especially when it must be obvious that she was a little old to be a student. But she had made some wrong decisions in her life, and now she was having to work twice as hard to regain the ground she had lost.

  'Of life, Mr Wiseman,' she dismissed with what she was well aware was facetious evasion of his question.

  'We're all students of that, Sophie,' he murmured softly, his probing gaze still fixed on her slightly flushed face with its intriguing smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. 'I had the feeling that you were re­ferring to something more specific?'

  She frowned at his persistence. She had never exactly made a secret of the fact that she was working feverishly on an Open University course, but she didn't go around boring everyone with it either, mainly because they then wanted to know why she didn't just go to university as a full-time student. As this man obviously did. And his continued curiosity about her was irritating her intensely!

  'Did you?' she dismissed brightly. 'I'd better go, Mr Wiseman, I have to catch a train back to London this afternoon.' She turned to leave, aware as she did so that he was still watching her with that annoying intensity. She had no doubt that he made Maximilian Grant a good assistant, but as far as Sophie was concerned he was almost as rude as his employer! Almost...

  If she kept telling herself how rude and disagreeable Maximilian Grant was, she might even manage to forget her attraction to him the night before! Not that there had been any memory, in the harshness of his face earlier, of that physical closeness they had shared last night, although, to give him his due, at the time he had been worried and then angry at Jennie's thoughtless be­haviour. He hadn't exactly—

  'Did you want to leave the book, Sophie?' Paul Wiseman spoke softly from just behind her.

  In fact, he was so close behind her, when she turned, that she instantly took an involuntary step backwards, glaring up at him accusingly for making her feel that she had to do such a thing.

  'I assumed,' he spoke derisively, 'as you have a book under your arm which belongs to the set in the library, that you were probably wanting to return it before you left.' He looked at her pointedly.

  The book, Jane Eyre; she had completely forgotten, during her conversation with this man, that she had put it under her arm so that she could carry both it and the tray into the library earlier. And she certainly hadn't had the memory-lapse because of any enjoyment of her con­versation with this man; on the contrary, he had agitated her so much that she had simply forgotten the book altogether. A book she was rapidly going off anyway; the damned thing seeming to have caused her nothing but trouble since she had first spotted it—mainly because the men in this house all seemed to think she was trying to steal it!

  'Of course,' she snapped, putting the book back in the appropriate space on the shelf. 'Goodbye, Mr Wiseman,' she added pointedly as she went to the door once again.

  'Do you think so?' he returned with his first show of amusement so far.

  She frowned at the enigmatic remark. 'Mr Wiseman, it's been a very unsettling—'

  'Call me Paul, please,' he invited smoothly. 'The informality makes for a more harmonious working relationship.' He shrugged dismissively.

  And, as the two of them wouldn't be working together, it wasn't relevant! Now that she had made his ac­quaintance, as well as Maximilian Grant's, she was be­ginning to wonder why she had ever been upset that this job had fallen through. Coupled with Jennie Grant herself, this job would have been a hard haul at best; at its worst it would have been downright impossible!

  She gave him a bright, meaningless smile before turning to leave once again, wondering if he had ac­tually listened to any of the replies she had made to his nosy questioning—only to walk straight into the solid wall of a chest she was beginning to recognise only too well! And if she hadn't been familiar with what it felt like to be crushed against Maximilian Grant's chest like this, she would have recognised that crisp, tangy after­shave he wore anyway, its smell heady to her senses.

  'We'll have to stop meeting like this,' he murmured huskily as she put a hand up on his chest to steady herself, looking down at her with darkened eyes, those same eyes moving questioningly as he saw a movement slightly behind her, his arms slowly dropping from about her waist as he recognised Paul Wiseman. 'Paul,' he greeted abruptly, his gaze guarded now. 'The two of you have introduced yourselves?' he prompted harshly, looking from Sophie's flushed face across to Paul Wiseman's enigmatic one, and then back again.

  Sophie's blush deepened under that narrow-eyed stare. What was he looking at her like that for? He surely didn't think... Good God, the man was his employee, and just because Maximilian believed he had found her in a compromising situation with Brian last night, there was no reason to believe she made a habit of flirting with every man she came into contact with!

  But what of the fact that she had been in Maximilian's own arms last night, too...?

  That was different, she inwardly defended herself in­dignantly, and was certainly no reason for—

  'Sophie brought our coffee in for us, Mr Grant,' Paul Wiseman was the one to answer him dismissively.

  And formally. So much for his claim of informality making for 'a more harmonious working relationship'; it certainly didn't apply to his own relationship with Maximilian Grant! Paul Wiseman was a fraud. Unless he had actually been flirting with her when he'd made that remark...? If he had, she hated to disappoint him, but she found him as attractive as a cold kipper!

  It was ridiculous, really; for the last couple of years she had avoided men completely, and now within the space of twenty-four hours she had been in the company of three more than presentable men all in one go. One who had tried to charm her into betraying confidences she hadn't even been privileged to—and now was never likely to be!—a second man who had assumed the very worst about her rela
tionship with the first man and had treated her accordingly, and now a third man who seemed to be watching her and Maximilian very closely! Three men—and she wanted nothing more to do with any of them.

  Maximilian nodded abruptly. 'Your aunt told me you had come in here, Sophie,' he spoke to her curtly. 'I wanted to talk to you,' he explained.

  The sooner they got this conversation over with, the better as far as Sophie was concerned. She just wanted to get back to London as soon as possible and start looking for another job for the week. She couldn't get away from here fast enough!

  She nodded. ‘I thought I might as well help my aunt out while I was waiting for you to finish your discussion with Jennie,' she said dismissively.

  He glanced briefly across at Paul Wiseman. 'My study, I think,' he told Sophie with his usual arrogance. 'Go ahead and have your coffee, Paul,' he invited smoothly. ‘I should be finished here soon, and then we can get down to discussing things properly.'

  Sophie preceded him from the room only because it was obvious that was what she was expected to do. 'Fin­ished here' obviously meant he was going to pay her the expenses he had promised and then send her on her way; she felt like an unwanted parcel he had to dispose of. A sub-standard one at that!

  Jennie was no longer in Maximilian's study when they got to the room, and Sophie couldn't help feeling sorry for the young girl all over again as she guessed, from Maximilian's grim expression as he sat down behind the desk, that what had taken place in this study a short time ago hadn't been pleasant—for either of them. At the same time as she knew that, Sophie had no doubt who had been the victor. Poor Jennie might already have been packed off to the aunt who 'had the hots' for Maximilian!

  Did Maximilian 'have the hots' for 'Aunt Celia' too? Was that the reason he was so determined Jennie would go there? Looking at him now, blue eyes glacial, his mouth a thin, uncompromising line, Sophie couldn't imagine this man wildly in love, or even wildly passionate, about any woman.

  And yet... she recalled with a slight fluttering of her own pulse, there had been an attraction between them last night that...

  '—forgot to ask your aunt if you can ride,' Maximilian was saying impatiently. 'I hope you do, because Jennifer is upstairs changing into her riding things right now, and I would hate to disappoint her by telling her she isn't going, which she isn't if you can't accompany her,' he said with finality.

  Sophie stared at him uncomprehendingly. Jennie was upstairs changing into her riding clothes...? He wanted Sophie to go where with her...?

  'But—but I thought—' She shook her head, frowning her puzzlement.

  'Yes?' he challenged harshly, eyes as hard as flint— and almost the same colour! 'Just exactly what did you "think", Miss Gordon?'

  Whatever it was, the mood he was in, she wasn't stupid enough to actually voice it! He obviously hadn't emerged the victor at all. And from his mood now it was obvious he didn't take defeat gracefully, was almost daring her now to remind him that Jennie—Sophie had noticed that Maximilian called his daughter by her full name, some­thing she had professed to hate—shouldn't be staying on here at all but going to her aunt's house. Sophie had no intention of making such a mistake, was sure his outward calm was just that, that inside he probably felt like strangling someone. And Sophie wasn't putting herself up as a likely candidate!

  'Jenni-fer—' she remembered just in time to use the young girl's full name, not sure yet whether it was just Maximilian's anger with his daughter that was making him use her full name, or if he just didn't like it being shortened '—wants to go riding?' she queried brightly.

  He nodded tersely. 'Right now. So, if you still want the job, I suggest you go and keep her company.'

  Now. He might be 'suggesting' it, but she was left in no doubt that it was really an order to be obeyed!

  Sophie obeyed. Without argument or question. Forgetting completely, as she did so, that a few minutes ago she had been determined to get away from here...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IF MAXIMILIAN GRANT didn't have the look of the victor, then neither did Jennie, her expression petulant as she fastened the last button on her dark green riding jacket before slamming shut her wardrobe door and turning from looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror on the door to glare at Sophie as she stood in the open doorway.

  Sophie had stopped off in the kitchen just long enough to tell her aunt she was staying after all, before hurrying up to the bedroom she knew was Jennie's. The door had been left open, and it only needed the briefest of glimpses inside to tell her Jennie was not a very tidy young lady; she had only been back in the house a very short time, and yet already there were clothes strewn all over the bedroom. Although, as she turned to Sophie with that angry glitter of challenge in her icy blue eyes, Sophie wasn't at all sure that wasn't due to sheer temper rather than a genuine untidiness!

  'Come to gloat, have you?' she snapped resentfully, securing her hair back at her nape with a black ribbon as she spoke, her movements sure and capable.

  Sophie wasn't sure... but she didn't think so. What exactly did she have to gloat about? Surely Jennie was the one who had got her own way? But to reveal to the young girl that she didn't even know what she was talking about would instantly put her at a disadvantage, and with this self-possessed young lady she already knew she needed every ounce of calm assurance she had at her disposal!

  'Not really,' she dismissed non-committally, her smile one of open friendliness.

  Jennie gave her a scathing glance, snatching her riding hat up off the bed. ‘I suppose you have to earn a living somehow.' She was deliberately insulting, her top Up turned back contemptuously. 'But I'm sure there has to be a better way for you to do it than being my gaoler!'

  Sophie's eyes widened at the accusation. She had imagined—before she met Jennie—that the two of them could become friends, have fun together, go shopping, for long walks, have trips into town to the cinema and small theatre there, and even now she had realised Jennie wasn't the young girl eager for her company that she had been hoping for she had still hoped they might manage to salvage something of the week they were to spend together. But if this was the way Jennie was going to look on even having her here...

  'Maybe I should tell your father this isn't such a good idea after all,' she suggested ruefully. ‘I had hoped we might be friends—'

  'Friends!' Jennie spat the word out incredulously, her eyes flashing angrily. ‘I either agree to have you here as my companion or I have to go to Aunt Celia's after all; what sort of basis would you call that for friendship?'

  So that was Maximilian Grant's condition for al­lowing Jennie to stay here after all! Didn't he realise that by doing it that way he was making her position here almost impossible from the outset? 'Jennie—'

  'Are you his latest mistress—is that it?' Jennie's eyes were narrowed challengingly as the idea occurred to her. 'Is that the reason he's so determined to keep you here?'

  Sophie couldn't help wincing at the deliberate insult in the young girl's tone and expression. And she didn't doubt for one moment that she was meant to feel very insulted indeed. Just as she couldn't exactly blame Jennie for feeling this burning resentment towards her if her father really had given her such an ultimatum about staying here. And maybe Jennie had some past ex­perience from which to base her accusation on...?

  'You don't actually believe that yourself, Jennie,' she told the other girl crisply. 'No, you don't,' she insisted ruefully as Jennie would have protested. 'And I'm really sorry your father chose to put things to you in the way that he did. I think the best thing for all of us is if I just explain to your father that my staying here just wouldn't work out, and leave it at that, don't you?' she encouraged without rancour.

  Jennie's gaze narrowed suspiciously. 'You would actually do that?' she said slowly.

  'Of course,' Sophie confirmed without hesitation.

  'But it means you would be out of a job,' Jennie reminded, still wary.

  'Of course I'd rathe
r stay here and have the job,' she acknowledged ruefully. 'But—

  'Then it looks as if we're stuck with each other, doesn't it,' Jennie drawled dismissively. 'Because I have no intention of going to Aunt— Why, speak of the...' Her attention was caught and held by what she had seen out of the window.

  Or rather who, Sophie realised, gravitating over towards the window herself, standing next to Jennie now as the two of them looked down on to the driveway, Jennie's bedroom having a view out of the front of the house.

  There were three cars parked in the forecourt now, Maximilian's sleek green BMW, a silver-coloured Rover that Sophie assumed had to belong to Paul Wiseman, and parked next to this was a sporty white Mercedes; climbing out from behind the wheel of the latter was one of the most beautiful women Sophie had ever seen!

  Tall, and elegantly dressed, in a short body-hugging purple dress, hair as black as coal falling silkily down to her shoulders, the woman was lovely enough to be a photographic model, or even a film star, her skin tanned a beautiful golden brown, her legs long, bare and shapely as she walked towards the house on high-heeled shoes that perfectly matched the colour of her dress.

  'She didn't waste any time, did she?' Jennie scorned, giving Sophie a derisive look as she still looked puzzled. 'My dear aunt Celia,' Jennie explained mockingly, 'come to pay us a call. So if you do have any designs on Daddy, I should go downstairs now and protect your interest!'

  That was 'Aunt Celia'? Sophie could no longer actually see the other woman, she had moved into the entry porch now, but her image was very vivid in her memory; Celia didn't look like anyone's aunt, sexual magnetism oozing out of every pore as she moved so gracefully.

  But what intrigued Sophie even more than the way the other woman looked was that she had managed to arrive here so quickly after informing Maximilian that Jennie hadn't arrived at her house as they had planned; just where was her house, that she could get here this quickly?

  But Sophie knew she had to deal with Jennie's last taunt before settling any curiosity about the beautiful woman who had just arrived. ‘I believe we were going riding?' she prompted pointedly.

 

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