Seeing the two of them together like this, Maximilian and Celia's easy familiarity with each other, Sophie was no nearer knowing if Maximilian had 'the hots' for his sister-in-law. What she had learnt, however, was that, even if he was attracted to Celia in return, the other woman was far from sure of him, and obviously saw all other women as rivals for his affection.
'Thank you,' Sophie returned non-committally. 'I think my aunt may be ready for us to go into lunch now,' she added with some relief as she saw Aunt Millie signalling to her from the doorway.
'Which we are all more than ready for,' Maximilian said knowingly as he extricated himself from Celia Taylor's clinging arm. 'Thank you, Mrs Craine.' He smiled warmly at his housekeeper. *I'm sorry you've been put to all this trouble.'
'We've all been put to a lot of trouble today on behalf of one young lady.' Celia gave Jennie a pointed look, her brows raised reprovingly.
So Jennie wasn't going to get away with this so lightly after all, Sophie realised sympathetically as the young girl flushed self-consciously at the same time as she gave her aunt a resentful glare for bringing up the subject. That scowl certainly wasn't going to help her cause, if the gathering thunderclouds of anger on Maximilian's brow were anything to go by!
'I believe you owe your aunt an apology, Jennifer,' he rasped in that autocratic voice that was warning enough. 'I'm sure Celia had better things to do this afternoon than drive over here because you had disappeared,' he added with stern disapproval.
'She didn't have to drive over here at all,' Jennie snapped rebelliously. 'Although goodness knows, she only lives ten miles away; it's not as if she had to drive to the other side of the country!'
'Jennifer!' Maximilian still didn't raise his voice, but; the warning it contained had risen audibly.
A warning Jennie was in no mood to heed. 'Well, it's not,' she defended stubbornly. 'And I could have telephoned her later and—'
'Her name is "Aunt Celia",' Maximilian cut in icily, his body rigid with anger. ‘I believed allowing you to go for a ride before lunch would cool your temper somewhat,' he continued coldly. 'But if anything you appear to be even ruder than you were before. Perhaps going up to your bedroom and not having any lunch might just—'
'That's not fair!' Jennie protested heatedly, her eyes blazing with fury.
Maximilian's mouth twisted. 'A lot of life is unfair, Jennifer,' he began derisively.
'Oh, spare me that lecture. This is my life we're talking about, not yours, not Aunt Celia's.' Her voice rose frustratedly. 'I'm the one being punished just because I didn't want to go to Aunt Celia's for the holidays—'
'Not just because of that,' her father corrected harshly.
'Oh, no, of course not,' Jennie choked, past any sort of reason now, her face flushed with anger. ‘I'm being punished because I'm here at all, aren't I!' She glared at her father. 'Life has been "unfair" to you because you have such a nuisance for a daughter! Because we both know that if Mummy had still been alive I wouldn't have been here at all; neither of us would—'
'Jennifer!' This time Maximilian's voice brooked no argument. Absolutely none. From anyone.
Looking at the two of them, so much alike, both so angry, Jennie's eyes full of unshed tears now, a nerve pulsating in Maximilian's rigidly clenched jaw, his eyes like chips of blue ice, Sophie felt so sorry for both of them, and wished there were something she could do or say that would alleviate the strain from the situation. But she knew so little about either of them yet, had no idea of the deep emotions behind Jennie's obviously heartfelt accusations.
And the little she did know put Maximilian in a very bad light as far as she was concerned. If Celia Taylor only lived ten miles away, and Maximilian was staying at this house anyway, then why on earth had he intended sending her to stay with her aunt for the week, especially when the original plan had been for Jennie to stay here? Had Maximilian changed the plan because he was staying here and now didn't want Jennifer to as well? And what did Jennie's comment about her mother mean? It was all a little too complex at the moment for her to know quite how to deal with things for the best.
But, despite being at a distinct disadvantage where the relationship between father and daughter was concerned, Sophie felt she ought to at least try to say something to defuse the situation a little—especially as Celia Taylor didn't seem about to do anything to help out in that direction, and was watching Jennie with narrowed eyes.
Sophie gave a bright smile. 'Maybe if we all have some lunch and talk afterwards—'
'Didn't you hear my father, Sophie?' Jennie scorned, still glaring at him. 'Like a child, I've been ordered to my room—'
'Maybe when you stop acting like one, and can show me you're a responsible adult, I won't treat you like a child,' Maximilian said with icy dismissal, obviously not budging by so much as an inch over his decision that Jennie should go to her bedroom.
Sophie watched in dismay as Jennie turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind her. Couldn't Maximilian see that Jennie behaved in exactly this way because it seemed to her to be the only way she could get his attention, albeit in an angry way? Until he did see that, Jennie's behaviour wasn't likely to improve.
Sophie looked at Maximilian now with pained eyes. 'Perhaps I should go after her and—'
'No!' he rasped coldly, challenge etched into the harshness of his face. 'As far as I'm aware, you haven't eaten since last night. And Jennifer will be better for being given time to think about her actions rather than tumbling headlong into one disastrous situation after another,' he announced firmly.
‘I couldn't agree with you more, darling Max,' Celia Taylor once again linked her arm with his, gazing up at him warmly. 'Josephine obviously spoilt the child, and you've been left to sort the problem out,' she sighed sympathetically.
If this was the way Maximilian intended 'sorting the problem out', then he wasn't going to be very successful, Sophie was afraid! What Jennie appeared to need was her father's time and attention, if not exactly his approval, rather than this constant clash of wills the two of them seemed to have.
And that didn't seem about to be forthcoming. Instead, with Jennie's departure, Sophie now seemed to have been left to have lunch alone with Celia Taylor and Maximilian. It was enough to deprive her of her appetite!
CHAPTER SIX
'YOU can take that "I could have told you" grin off your face!' Sophie scowled across the bedroom at Jennie. 'Or I'll take those sandwiches back!'
'No way!' Jennie put a protective hand over the plate of sandwiches she was munching her way through, sitting cross-legged on top of the lace duvet on her bed. 'I'm absolutely starving!' she groaned.
'You deserve to be!' Sophie said with feeling, finding it difficult still to forgive the young girl for leaving her to such a fate.
Lunch, for Sophie, had been every bit as awful as she had thought it might be. And it had nothing to do with the food, Aunt Millie's cooking every bit as good as it had always been; it had been the company that had grated. Well...Celia Taylor had grated. Well...actually, it had been the way the other woman constantly felt the need to touch and flirt with Maximilian that had grated, if Sophie was completely honest with herself.
She had been jealous of the other woman's familiarity with him!
Not that Maximilian had even seemed to notice the way Celia was always touching his hand or arm as she talked to him, his attention not having been completely on the conversation. Although he answered Celia politely enough, his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. With Jennie, Sophie hoped, and how he was going to set about bridging that gulf that seemed to be ever widening between himself and his daughter. Because, if he didn't stop it now, in a couple of years' time it was going to be too late, the breach irreversible.
But even though Sophie had refused dessert and coffee, the meal had gone on far too long for her comfort. The other woman had greeted this refusal with a lightly mocking comment about her 'having to watch her figure'—s
omething Celia herself didn't seem to bother about as she accepted a huge piece of the homemade lemon meringue pie. Sophie hadn't refused because she wouldn't have liked a piece of the pie herself, or indeed because she had to watch the calories; she had never been prone to fat. No, she had refused purely and simply because she wanted to get away from the nauseating display the other woman was making of herself with Maximilian!
Maximilian had tersely granted her request to be excused, and Sophie had hurried from the dining-room before he could think of a reason to change his mind, going straight to the kitchen to make some sandwiches for Jennie and grab a can of Coke for each of them— this much to the disapproval of her aunt.
But Sophie just couldn't bear the thought of Jennie having to go hungry, especially when she was convinced it had been Celia Taylor's baiting of her that had actually caused Jennie to lose her temper in the way she had; the raven-haired beauty was enough to make Sophie grind her teeth after only an hour's acquaintance, so goodness knew how Jennie felt about the woman after being forced into her company all of her life!
She had carried the tray of sandwiches and drinks up the back stairs, carefully avoiding being seen by either Maximilian or Celia Taylor.
Jennie had been lying on her back on the bed, although she had visibly brightened at the sight of the sandwiches and drink.
'Aunt Celia worked her usual magic charm, did she?' Jennie said knowingly, biting into another sandwich. 'Can you blame me, now that you've met her,' she grimaced, 'for not wanting to spend my holiday at her house?'
Sophie was still puzzled at the need for Jennie to do so when the other woman lived so close anyway. But at the moment she thought it best not to bring that subject up with Jennie; it might be best if Jennie avoided being bad-tempered and resentful for a while. And no doubt Maximilian had his reasons for arranging things this way.
Although at this precise moment in time Sophie couldn't for the life of her think of one that would be even remotely acceptable!
At the same time, she knew she couldn't encourage Jennie's disrespectful behaviour towards her aunt. 'She could teach you a lot about fashion,' she suggested— because, for the moment, with the memory of the other woman's acidic company still so vivid, Sophie couldn't actually think of anything more favourable to say about her!
Jennie gave her a pitying look, not fooled for a moment. 'Is that the best you can do?'
As it happened, yes! How could she sit and spout platitudes about a woman who had made no secret of the fact that she didn't particularly like her—or the way she dressed? A woman, moreover, who had made it obvious, from her almost total exclusion of Sophie from the conversation, that she didn't particularly like sitting down to lunch with one of the 'hired help' anyway!
'I don't think we should—' She broke off guiltily as a knock sounded on the bedroom door. Jennie quickly hid the half-eaten sandwiches and cans of Coke under the bed, choking down her mouthful of food, giving Sophie a pained grimace before going to open the door.
To the immense relief of both of them it was only Aunt Millie who stood outside. Only? From the thunderous expression on her aunt's face, this wasn't a social call!
'You, young lady, will get us all shot if your father finds out we've brought you food up here when he told you you couldn't have any lunch today!' She frowned disapprovingly at Jennie as the young girl took the sandwiches and drinks from beneath her bed and resumed eating.
'You didn't bring it, remember, Aunt Millie, I did,' Sophie soothed, still puzzled by her aunt's expression. It couldn't be the food and drink that was still upsetting her; she had already had her say on that downstairs earlier. What had happened now? Sophie wondered wearily.
'As for you, Sophie—' her aunt turned on her sharply now, as if sensing her resignation '—what have you been up to now?'
She frowned. She had been hoping her aunt would be able to tell her that. 'Apart from the sandwiches and drink for Jennie...?'
'One presumes so, yes!' Aunt Millie snapped, deeply agitated. 'I'm sure Mr Grant would have said something to me first if that were it...' she murmured thoughtfully.
'Then as far as I know,' Sophie shrugged, 'nothing.'
Her aunt's mouth firmed. 'Well, Mr Grant has asked to see you in his study immediately, so you must have done something!'
The study again, she realised heavily. But as far as she was aware she hadn't committed any other misdemeanour he could haul her over the coals about, not in the short space since the last time, anyway! It certainly couldn't have been anything she said during lunch; she had hardly spoken, and her manners had been impeccable—even when she had been sorely provoked by some of Celia Taylor's more cutting remarks towards her.
'Maybe not, Aunt Millie.' She stood up slowly, trying to look on the bright side. 'Perhaps Mr Grant is just anxious to discuss some of the arrangements for the next week with me.' Goodness knew, there had been little enough time for that earlier.
Her aunt relaxed slightly, although her frown remained. 'Do you think that could be it?' she said uncertainly.
Sophie certainly hoped so! Although she was actually far from sure... 'That will be it, Aunt Millie,' she dismissed confidently.
'Well... Immediately, then, Sophie,' her aunt reminded before leaving, although a perplexed frown still furrowed her brow.
Jennie didn't look so easily convinced. 'Do you think that's it?' she frowned darkly.
Sophie grimaced. 'I'm hoping so.' Although she didn't, in actual fact, hold out much hope of being right; what had she done now?
'I'm coming with you.' Jennie stood up decisively, her sandwich and drink put aside. 'If Aunt Celia has—no,' she frowned anew as she looked down on to the driveway. 'She seems to have gone, and if she had been making mischief she would have stayed around long enough to watch what happened.' Jennie grimaced.
She certainly seemed to have got the measure of her aunt, no matter what Maximilian might think of her maturity! 'I don't think your coming down with me would be a good idea,' Sophie refused ruefully. 'Although I do appreciate the offer.'
'But—'
'If I need the cavalry, I'll call, hmm?' she prompted self-derisively, grinning with much more confidence than she actually felt.
But her smile faded as soon as she was out in the hallway. And when she arrived at Maximilian's study to find Paul Wiseman was in there with him, albeit standing unobtrusively across the room near the window, Sophie knew she had been right to feel apprehensive; Maximilian already had his cavalry in the room with him—although it was doubtful he ever felt in need of it! Just what was going on here?
Maximilian's expression was grim as he looked across at her still standing in the doorway. 'Come in and close the door, Miss Gordon,' he instructed coolly. 'Although it isn't Miss anything, is it, but Mrs Ames?' he added softly from behind her as she did as instructed.
Sophie spun around, her face paling, freckles standing out lividly against the white, her eyes wide green pools of distress at this unexpected attack.
Maximilian continued to look at her grimly, seemingly unmoved by the obvious shock he had just given her. 'Leave us, Paul,' he rasped harshly to the other man, the coldness of his gaze never leaving Sophie's stricken face.
The other man stepped forward from the shadows. ‘I don't think that would be advisable in the circumstances, Mr Grant—' He broke off abruptly as that cold blue gaze flashed warningly in his direction, a ruddy hue darkening his cheeks as Maximilian continued to look at him. 'I'll go and check in with Jenkins,' he finally nodded agreement before striding quickly from the room, the door closing quietly but forcefully behind him.
Sophie hadn't really been listening to the exchange between the two men, her mind racing frantically as she wondered how on earth Maximilian had found out that particular piece of information about her. She hadn't been officially Mrs anything for almost two years now, and she hadn't used the name Ames for a lot longer than that.
The mistake she had so wilfully made at only eig
hteen. A mistake that had haunted her long after it should have been over. And it looked as if it was about to haunt her once again!
'Sit down.' Maximilian spoke slightly more gently this time. 'Before you fall down,' he added impatiently when she made no attempt to move.
Sophie sat, too numbed to do anything else. It wasn't that she had ever deceived anyone about the existence of her marriage; she had just never broadcast the fact either. But Maximilian obviously didn't like the fact that he hadn't been informed.
Cavalry—she had a feeling she was going to need a miracle to get her out of this!
'Well?' he said finally, as some of the colour returned to her cheeks.
What did he want her to say? 'I—I reverted back to my maiden name after my husband—died,' she told him woodenly.
'There was a bit more to it than that, Sophie.' Maximilian said tersely, glancing down at a paper on the desktop in front of him. 'It says here—'
'What is that?' she demanded incredulously, leaning forward to snatch the sheet of paper up in her hands, quickly reading what was typed there, looking up at him with darkly accusing eyes once she had done so. Maximilian hadn't moved, hadn't attempted to stop her, and was looking at her now with cold eyes. 'You had no right,' she choked. 'No right at all!' It was all there, in black and white, all the details of her life starkly laid out. 'Where did you get this?' Her hand tightly clenched the piece of paper, crumpling one side of it.
Maximilian shrugged dismissively. 'Paul—'
'Your so-called assistant; I should have guessed!' she dismissed scornfully. 'No wonder he didn't join us for lunch,' she scoffed. 'He was too busy putting all this together!' She threw the sheet of paper back on Maximilian's desk. 'You should give him a pay-rise, Mr Grant; he's obviously very good at his job!'
'Sophie, will you just calm down?' Maximilian snapped impatiently. ‘If you do, we may just be able to sort this situation out—'
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