Elizabeth watched him ruefully as he moved lightly up the wide staircase. He was an old devil, showed his preference for Quinn Taylor quite shamelessly, but she couldn’t help loving him.
Giles sighed at her side, also watching the older man. ‘I wish I knew why he dislikes me so much,’ he said woefully.
She gave him an encouraging smile as they slowly walked back into the drawing-room. ‘He doesn’t dislike you,’ she dismissed lightly. ‘He just enjoys the fact that he knows you won’t risk offending him.’ And did he take advantage of the fact!
‘Why should I want to offend him?’ Giles looked puzzled. ‘I admire him very much.’
‘Never mind, Giles,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘It’s getting rather late,’ she added pointedly.
‘Yes,’ he accepted with a frown, moving to take her in his arms, at least a foot taller than her, naturally slender and elegant in his dark evening clothes. ‘Did you mean it about coming over tomorrow?’ he asked eagerly.
The thought of spending most of the day with the one animal that really made her nervous wasn’t exactly appealing; but it was certainly preferable to having to see Quinn Taylor again!
‘Of course I did.’ She lightly touched his cheek, wondering why she hadn’t been able to fall in love with this pleasantly attractive man during the three months they had been seeing each other. He was handsome, he was kind, always considerate, and yet the spark she had always expected to exist between her and the man she loved just wasn’t there. She knew he cared for her, and she had hoped that with time—There was still time, she assured herself firmly, love didn’t just happen in an instant. Or if it did, it was a love that was doomed to die when reality intruded, she told herself harshly. Better friendship and caring than an emotion that ripped the heart from your body!
‘That’s wonderful!’ Giles beamed, lowering his head to capture her lips with his.
She could tell he was pleased by her impassioned response, the caress deepening after his initial surprise at her eagerness after months of only lukewarm passion.
She wanted that heady ecstasy she had known only once before in her life, slightly ashamed of herself as she realised she was using Giles, knowing he would believe she was at last coming to feel more for him than the easy friendship they had attained during the last few months.
She moved away from him awkwardly, evading his gaze after witnessing the heated passion in his suddenly dark brown eyes during the one glance she had given him. ‘I think you had better go,’ she encouraged huskily.
‘Of course, darling.’ He grinned his pleasure at her unexpected response. ‘What time will you be over tomorrow?’
She stiltedly made the arrangements to see him at ten o’clock in the morning as they walked out to his car, giving a brief wave as he smiled at her warmly before driving away.
A frown marred her brow as she slowly walked back into the house, coming to an abrupt halt as she saw her grandfather watching her from the doorway to the library.
He was dressed ready for bed, his burgundy-coloured robe fastened over silk pyjamas. ‘I couldn’t sleep so I thought I would come down for a book.’ He indicated the red leather-bound volume in his hand, eyeing her questioningly.
Elizabeth glanced at the drawing-room doorway that faced the library, knowing the door to the other room had been open all the time she and Giles had been alone in there, colour heating her cheeks as she realised the passionate scene her grandfather must have witnessed if he had been downstairs then.
‘Darling, don’t involve yourself in something you know isn’t right for you.’ He spoke gently as he realised she had guessed at his unintended observation of her and Giles together. ‘Giles is a nice enough chap—for all that I mock him a little,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘I wouldn’t want either of you to be hurt.’
He knew her too well, this man who had come to mean the whole world to her. She couldn’t have loved him more than she already did if they had known each other all her life.
She gave a shaky smile. ‘We won’t be,’ she assured him softly.
‘Sure?’ He looked concerned.
‘Yes,’ she said strongly. ‘I was just—curious, for a moment. But don’t worry, I’ll let him down gently.’ She sighed, realising that her behaviour tonight meant she would have to stop seeing Giles much sooner than she had intended, knowing that to do anything else would be unnecessarily cruel on her part. She was very angry with herself at her dishonesty, angrier still with Quinn Taylor, because it had been the memory of the magic she had once known in his arms that had caused her to seek the same thing with Giles. The magic she had known with Quinn all those years ago had been a fallacy, a fantasy; reality was so much harsher.
T know you will.’ Her grandfather softly touched her cheek, smiling encouragingly. ‘You’re a gentle child.’
She didn’t feel gentle as she stood at her bedroom window gazing out at the shadowed image of the stage that had been erected on the west lawn, she felt violent, wanted to go out there and rip the structure apart, wanted to rip the man, and what it had been like to be in his arms, from her memory.
But somehow the images of Quinn remained…
* * *
Her day at the stables was not a success, as she had known it wouldn’t be. But she tried, she really did try; could she help it if she panicked every time one of the horses turned to look at her? Gulliver had given her a look just like that before he reared up and planted her painfully down on the ground on her bottom.
It wasn’t easy to keep Giles at a distance either after last night, and she could tell he was hurt by her avoidance of being alone with him. After the encouragement she had given him the previous evening he had probably been envisaging a long romantic day inside the house, not having to witness her making a complete hash of helping out in the stables!
It was a long day, and her head ached by the time she finally took her leave, relieved that Giles was having dinner with one of the owners tonight instead of seeing her. All she wanted to do tonight was to soak in a long hot bath and then curl up in bed with her dinner on a tray. Just thinking about it made her groan with anticipation.
She somehow knew her plans weren’t going to reach fruition when she entered the Hall just as a blonde-haired urchin came sliding down the banister of the wide staircase.
CHAPTER FOUR
ELIZABETH came to a halt in the doorway, staring up in amazement as a tiny figure dressed in tightly fitting denims that looked as if they had seen better days, a loose T-shirt that looked as if it would have fitted a burly rugby player, blonde hair steaming down her back, came flying down the banister with a whoop of delight.
The highly polished banister had tempted Elizabeth to do the same thing from the moment she had entered the Hall five years before, but because she knew her grandfather wouldn’t have considered it in keeping with the ladylike demeanour he had always expected of her the temptation had never been given in to.
But whoever this young lady was who had given in to the temptation, she knew she had never seen her before!
The slender figure climbed agilely to the floor when she reached the bottom, giving the impression it was far from the first time she had done so.
A guilty blush darkened her face as she turned to see Elizabeth watching her, and Elizabeth found herself looking into the most delicately lovely face she had ever seen. Blue eyes twinkled beneath silky brows, the nose small and straight, the mouth a perfect bow above a small pointed chin. She guessed the girl to be in her early teens, breasts just beginning to thrust beneath the bulky T-shirt. Her hair was so fine and pale a blonde it looked almost silver, even lighter in colour than Elizabeth’s own hair.
Whoever the girl was she had made herself very much at home. And Elizabeth was still certain she had never seen her before!
‘You must be Elizabeth, right?’ the girl said ruefully, thrusting her hands into the back pockets of the tight and faded denims.
She nodded slowly, suddenly wary. ‘That’s righ
t.’
‘Sorry about the—the banister,’ the girl grimaced, wrinkling her tiny nose up enchantingly. ‘Dad would kill me if he knew I’d done it, let alone been caught at it.’
Dad. Elizabeth had a terrible feeling she knew exactly who ‘Dad’ was. But that still didn’t explain what this girl was doing here.
‘I promise no one will hear about it from me,’ she dismissed. ‘Now if you wouldn’t mind, Miss—?’
‘Taylor,’ the girl supplied brightly. ‘Marni Taylor. My Dad and I are staying here for a while.’
She had somehow guessed the girl might be Quinn’s daughter as soon as she heard the accent. What she didn’t understand, didn’t want to understand, was the comment she had made about the two of them staying here. It couldn’t be true—could it?
She gave a cool nod of her head. ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Taylor—’
‘Oh, call me Marni,’ she invited pertly. ‘And can I call you Elizabeth? Or do you prefer Beth or Liz, something like that?’
After years of being known as Lise she still preferred hearing that as her name, but her grandfather had begun by calling her Elizabeth and somehow it had stuck; she had no intention of telling Quinn Taylor’s daughter the only pet name she had ever had.
‘Elizabeth will do fine.’ She carefully closed the door behind her, walking forward into the entrace hall.
‘This is a great house,’ Marni told her with enthusiasm, looking up admiringly at the ornate ceiling above them. ‘It must have been fun growing up here.’
She was surprised at the pain the remark caused, had believed herself over the bitter resentment she initially felt towards her father when she learnt that he had denied her her birthright. But it would have been fun growing up here, and perhaps she would never forget that she had been denied that because Gregory Farnham hadn’t chosen to acknowledge her as his daughter. Strange, she hadn’t thought about it for years. But then Quinn Taylor’s presence here had brought back a lot of memories she would rather had remained forgotten.
‘Yes,’ she answered non-committally. ‘Er—where is your father now?’ She arched blonde brows.
‘Rehearsing,’ Marni supplied with a grimace. ‘He’s been at it for hours now. He always gets nervous before a show,’ she shrugged.
Nervous? Quinn Taylor nervous? She didn’t believe he had ever known the uncertainty of the emotion!
‘Then perhaps you can tell me where my grandfather is,’ she asked politely, sensing his deviousness was behind the appearance of ‘guests’ she had had no knowledge of.
Marni shrugged again. ‘I think he walked over to—the west lawn, is it?—a short time ago,’ she concluded at Elizabeth’s nod of confirmation. ‘He seems to be a fan of Dad’s,’ she added lightly.
In more ways that one! No wonder her grandfather hadn’t tried to discourage her from going to see Giles today; he had known damn well that she had more than lunch to avoid where Quinn Taylor was concerned. How could he have invited them to stay here without even telling her about it! All too easily, she acknowledged ruefully.
She gave an absent nod in answer to the statement. ‘Is there just your father and you staying, or is Mr Simons here too?’ She arched questioning brows.
‘Bruce wouldn’t feel comfortable staying here,’ Marni dismissed affectionately. ‘He stayed on at the hotel with the rest of the crew. But he’s glad the problem of Dad’s security has been solved,’ she grinned. ‘The hotel management were getting a little impatient with fans trying to sneak up to Dad’s suite. Especially as they usually managed to get the wrong one,’ she added with a chuckle. ‘Only this morning an irate Arab complained about a young girl hiding in his closet!’
Elizabeth couldn’t help returning the infectious grin. ‘It must have been a little—awkward for him.’
‘Embarrassing, I think,’ Marni said mischievously. ‘Apparently he had just got out of the bath. And he was a little on the—plump side. If you know what I mean?’ She pulled a face.
‘I know what you mean.’ She returned the other girl’s smile. ‘Doesn’t it bother you that young girls chase after your father?’ she asked curiously, firmly putting from her mind the fact that she had once been one of those ‘young girls’.
‘Not really,’ Marni shrugged. ‘It’s all part of the image, isn’t it?’ she dismissed. ‘And I know that Dad would never be interested in anyone of my age!’
‘How old are you?’ she queried calmly, blocking from her mind the memory of a time when she had believed he was attracted to a young girl.
‘Fifteen,’ Marni supplied, grimacing as Elizabeth couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘I know,’ she sighed. ‘I still look as if I’m only twelve years old!’
She gave the girl a sympathetic smile, having suffered being thought younger than her years most of her life too. ‘I thought at least thirteen,’ she teased lightly.
Marni grinned. ‘I think you and I are going to be good friends.’
Elizabeth thought so too and, feeling as she did about Quinn, she knew that could make things rather awkward. She didn’t want to see him as the family man, Marni’s complete openness revealing just how much she loved her father, the fact that she was completely unaffected and unspoilt showing he was a good father to her. Marni wasn’t going to understand the aversion she had to her father.
‘I hope so,’ she replied non-committally, regretful at the look of puzzled hurt in Marni’s candid blue eyes. ‘And now I’d better go and wash away the smell of the stables,’ she added lightly. ‘I’m sure we’ll meet again at dinner.’
‘Sure.’ Marni nodded slowly. Elizabeth was able to feel her quizzical gaze on her all the way up the stairs to her room.
She hadn’t meant to hurt the young girl, had genuinely liked her; it was the fact that she was Quinn’s daughter that compelled her to be reserved.
Damn it, she hadn’t thought of anything like this happening when the concert was arranged. She would just have to hope that Quinn’s stay here was as brief as the one he had made at her aunt’s and uncle’s all those years ago!
That time he had only stayed overnight, an urgent call from London the next day taking him back to the city, and then back to Canada. Lise’s relief had been immense, not knowing how she could even attempt to be polite to him after what she had witnessed in the bedroom next to hers. His hasty departure had made that unnecessary.
Being polite to him this time was going to be just as difficult, for all that Elizabeth Farnham was more sophisticated and self-confident!
But she knew her grandfather would never hear of asking a guest to leave, that, liking the other man as he did, he would probably find it difficult to believe in Quinn’s behaviour with Terri and then Fergus’s consequent death. She would probably have found it hard to believe herself if she hadn’t personally witnessed his betrayal.
She really only had this evening to get through, the final rehearsal tomorrow afternoon, and then the concert in the evening. He would be leaving on Sunday. Surely she would get through one evening in his company?
* * *
‘Is this the famous lily-pond?’
Elizabeth froze at the first sound of that huskily sensual voice, aware that it was even huskier tonight after the hours he had spent rehearsing. The loudspeakers had been switched on just as she got into the bath, and she had tried to shut her ears to the sound of his lyrically lovely voice as he sang a medley of those songs of his she had always liked so much. As she had lounged in the scented water the tears had begun to fall, the final song to fill the sunlit evening the one that he and Fergus had first collaborated on.
She had come down for dinner early, walking outside in the evening sunshine, knowing Quinn was now in one of the guest bedrooms, having heard him arrive home a short time ago.
He had lost no time in changing for dinner himself, she saw, as she slowly turned around to face him, his hair still damp from the shower he had obviously taken, very dark and attractive in the black evening suit and snowy white shirt. A ch
ameleon, she decided again, able to adapt, with comfort, to any situation and background he happened to be in.
His blue gaze roamed over her appreciatively, her head back challengingly, knowing the green gown with its elusive silver threads suited her colouring perfectly. She was every inch the mistress of Farnham Hall as she coolly met his gaze.
‘This is the estate’s lily-pond, yes,’ she confirmed distantly. ‘Although I believe it just eluded being famous,’ she added drily.
He grinned, completely at ease, although from the hours he had spent rehearsing he must be feeling tired. ‘I believe you met Marni,’ he drawled, standing beside her now as they gazed across the lily-topped pond that lay so still before them.
She gave him a sideways glance, wondering in what circumstances his daughter had told him they met. ‘Yes, I saw her when I got home,’ she answered non-committally.
‘She won’t be sliding down any more banisters,’ he told her ruefully.
So Marni had told her father about the incident after all. Because she hadn’t trusted her not to, or because the pair had such a close relationship Marni had been confident of her father’s understanding? She had a feeling it was the latter.
‘Did you enjoy your day at the stables?’ Quinn asked at her silence.
She stiffened at his mockery. ‘I didn’t spend all my time in the stables,’ she taunted softly.
Quinn rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the smoothness of his skin indicating he had taken his second shave of the day shortly before coming downstairs. ‘Went for a gallop, did you?’ he said innocently.
If this man weren’t her grandfather’s guest—! ‘There are other, much more amusing entertainments, to be had at Giles’s house,’ she returned provocatively, her hands clenched at her sides, hating being the brunt of this man’s amusement.
‘Really?’ he ground out, all amusement suddenly gone. ‘Can’t you find the same—entertainments, at home?’
She looked him coolly up and down. ‘I can’t say that I particularly want to,’ she scorned haughtily, knowing he was offering himself as that entertainment.
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