‘Yes, that would be after you locked yourself out, but before you tried to burn the place down,’ James said with a rueful smile.
Rose gasped. ‘You did what?’
Morgan rolled her eyes. ‘You were able to let me back in, weren’t you? And they were very small sparks and not even – I mean maybe just – a little poof of smoke.’
Rose’s heart sank. What an awful welcome when her friend had travelled so far. ‘Oh, Morgan – where? How?’
Their drinks came, and James seemed content to distance himself, nursing his glass and letting the conversation flow between the two girls. After a full report on just how many wrong turns Morgan had made on her way from the station to Laura Place, Rose realised James was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Morgan had been late, and it seemed he didn’t want it mentioned in front of her, which Rose found profoundly sweet of him, and yet she was genuinely worried it might have affected his bid.
Her chance to question him soon came, however, when Morgan took herself off to the bar to ask for more ice.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Rose felt incredibly guilty. ‘You were late, weren’t you?’
James glanced around as if to check Morgan was not within earshot and shrugged. ‘A little. I think it ended up fine.’
‘Really?’ Rose persisted.
‘Let me take you through it.’ He quickly recapped how the meeting had gone, and by the end Rose felt sure James had done admirably, with Morgan’s lateness hopefully not hurting his chances – not by much, anyway.
‘It does sound promising,’ Rose encouraged, but his attention wasn’t with her as he glanced around the room for the third time since they had started speaking.
‘Look, do you think you ought to check on your friend? She’s been gone a while, and she does seem susceptible to mishap.’
‘Oh! Yes, it has been a while, hasn’t it?’ Rose frowned. ‘How did you end up here with her?’
‘She turned up at the office as I was about to lock up – had the folder with her as it was the only address she had to hand. We couldn’t get hold of you on your phone, so I thought I’d best, well, you know. I didn’t want you worried about her, and I didn’t want her to get lost again either.’
‘That’s so kind of you.’ Rose craned her head to see beyond the people surrounding them. ‘It’s just – she’s always seemed so capable to me…’
A group of loud men – all very tall and fair – were bearing down on their part of the room, obscuring her view of anyone else, but just as she was going to stand up to look for Morgan, Rose saw her friend dart out in front of the men and present them to her and James with her arms wide. ‘It’s my Germans!’
They gave a roar of approval, and Rose almost laughed. Morgan was so clearly proud, and the men so clearly pissed, that she struggled not to laugh as she turned to James for an explanation, but he just smiled tightly. ‘She has Germans. It’s a long story.’
‘She did text me something about them but—’
The Germans brought a tray of shots with them, and insisted on them all sharing it. Rose wasn’t keen, but one of the men – ash blonde and charming, despite his inebriation – insisted. She spluttered and coughed, deciding enough was enough. This could get really messy.
James, who had disappeared temporarily, returned just as she was gathering her things, having paid the bill. ‘Oh you didn’t need to do that – but thank you.’
Morgan was now being taught a rather bawdy German drinking song, did she but know it, and James held out Rose’s coat for her before walking over to retrieve Morgan from her new friends, handing over her bag and, after a momentary hesitation, helped her into the several jumpers she seemed to have with her.
The Germans expressed extreme but fleeting disappointment. They were in full song by the time Rose, James and Morgan walked out into a now rapidly cooling evening, a blessing to Rose, and she drew in a deep breath.
Morgan, on the other hand, immediately started shivering, and Rose laughed as Morgan threaded her arm through hers. ‘Are you really that cold?’
‘Fr-r-r-r-eezing.’
Rose’s humour faded. ‘Oh dear, do you want my coat?’
‘No, the walk will w-w-warm me up. Where’s James?’ Morgan spun them both around until she could see him. ‘Thank you so much for the rescue and the drink and the food – now I owe you three times.’
But Rose didn’t hear his reply. Her eye had been drawn to the man now approaching them: Dr Trevellyan.
Chapter Four
Rose was grateful for the dusk; it would help hide her blushes, as well as the traces of her earlier tears. She must look a real sight!
James shook the doctor’s hand. ‘Aiden! Good to see you back.’
‘Good to be here.’ His gaze swept over Rose and Morgan, who was still clinging to Rose’s arm.
‘This is a friend of Rose’s from California, Morgan Taylor.’ James indicated Morgan. ‘Morgan, this is Doctor Aiden Trevellyan. He’s an old mate.’ The arm wrapped around her own tightened significantly, and Rose hoped it would be her friend’s only reaction.
The doctor offered his hand. ‘Please, the name’s Aiden.’
Aiden? Morgan could call him Aiden within ten seconds of meeting him? She had known him three years, and he’d never once called her Rose or asked her to use his name!
‘Aiden. Yes, I know. I mean—’ Morgan stopped and bit her lip, throwing Rose a lightning glance. ‘Nice to meet you.’ There was a pause, then, ‘I’m from California.’
‘So I heard. I believe I have you to thank for the Cadbury’s and Oreos.’
Morgan looked at Rose in mock indignation. ‘How could you?’
Rose couldn’t help but laugh. ‘It was an accident. You know I’d never knowingly give your goodies to anyone else.’
James and the doctor fell into conversation about the upcoming rugby game on Saturday, so Rose felt it was the perfect chance to escape, especially with Morgan pinching her arm and looking significantly between Rose and the doctor.
‘Well, I’d best get Morgan to her bed; enjoy the rest of your evening.’ Both men turned towards them. ‘James, I’ll see you in the morning.’
Rose turned away, steering Morgan along, whom she suspected wasn’t far from falling asleep on her shoulder. They had gone but a few paces, however, when James fell into step beside her.
Rose frowned at him. ‘You don’t have to walk us back. It’s the wrong end of town for you.’
James just shook his head, and she knew there would be no use arguing, but then she glanced over her shoulder. ‘What happened to your friend?’
‘Off to find somewhere to eat.’
Rose smiled ruefully as they walked on; how she would love to sit across the table from Dr Trevellyan and share a meal with him, listening to that lovely, deep voice and staring into those gorgeous eyes…
She shook her head. ‘So, the Germans – what’s the story?’
‘Oh, weren’t they the friendliest? When I was lost – the first time anyway – they were lost with me. We were lost twins. I wouldn’t have gotten to Laura’s Place without them.’
‘Laura Place,’ both Rose and James corrected in unison.
‘Ooph!’ Rose gripped Morgan’s arm tightly as her friend accidentally tripped off the kerb.
They maintained some desultory chatter as they walked, Morgan rambling on about all sorts of things, James making occasional observations about the parts of Bath they passed through, none of which her friend would recall in the morning. Rose merely listened and tried not to guess which restaurant had the pleasure of the doctor’s company that evening.
Finally, they came to Laura Place, and Rose took the key from Morgan’s bag and opened the door, but before she could steer her friend over the threshold, Morgan turned around and gave James a hug and whispered ‘thank you’. He looked a little taken aback, and Rose tried not to smile as Morgan walked into the building, then waited, rubbing her hands together for warmth as Rose said good night to James.
James’s eye drifted to where Morgan stood. ‘Make sure she writes your address down in case the office is shut next time she’s lost.’
With a laugh, Rose nodded. ‘I will.’
‘Night, then. See you in the morning – heavy day. Let’s hope the mysterious bug has passed, and we’re back to full strength.’
Rose smiled at him. ‘G’night.’
‘Toodle-pip!’ Morgan’s voice called from inside the doorway, and James raised a brow at Rose, who laughed.
‘It’s a private joke – I’ll tell you another time.’
* * *
Something woke Rose long before her alarm the next morning, but the quality of light seeping through her curtains and the birds merrily beginning their dawn chorus quickly convinced her of the earliness of the hour. Stretching luxuriously, she rolled onto her side; no need to get up just yet.
She had been having a lovely dream, hadn’t she? Closing her eyes, she tried to catch hold of the tendrils as they whispered through the far reaches of her mind, a sensation of warmth enveloping her body as faint remnants danced tantalisingly close. She’d been with Dr Trevellyan – were they dining together? Squeezing her eyes more tightly shut, Rose tried to remember the details… There had been the enticing aroma of the food, the coolness of the delicious wine, and the soft candlelight flickering on the doctor’s bare chest…
Rose shot up in bed, eyes wide open now. What? Then she flopped back on her pillow with a small laugh. No doubt it was Morgan, speculating shortly before they had said good night over how Aiden might look without a shirt on and then pondering how many children Rose and Aiden might have together, which had led to the dream…
Feeling her cheeks redden, Rose stirred uneasily in the bed. Enough! she cautioned herself. Think of something else, or you’ll be even more gauche than usual next time you see him.
Determinedly, the organised part of her mind began running through everything she needed to do at work later. So many people were checking in today, with every property they managed fully booked. She tried to think about what their contingency plan might be should Roger still be struck down by his mystery bug, but a sudden loud thump from the flat above put paid to this line of thought. Throwing the ceiling a resigned look, she flung the duvet aside and rolled out of bed, stuffing her feet into her slippers (prettily embroidered with a quote from Northanger Abbey – a gift from Morgan last Christmas).
Catching sight of her sleepy face as she passed the mirror, Rose paused and studied her reflection, then leaned over and flicked the light switch, throwing her features into stark and unkind relief.
‘Ugh,’ she muttered under her breath, before pulling a face at herself and flicking the light off. There were still traces of yesterday’s mascara under her eyes, thanks to her tears and, no longer in the neat, formal style she used for work, her hair was as unruly a mass of curls as ever.
Rose was not envious by nature, but just for a second, she longed to wake up to such glossy, smooth hair as Morgan possessed, which in her mind’s eye was no longer ginger at all, but a rich auburn – much more sophisticated, and surely more likely to catch the eye of Doctor Aiden Trevellyan…
‘Stop it, Rose,’ she admonished out loud as she crossed the hallway into the kitchen and put the kettle to boil and reached for a mug – one bearing a quote from Jane Austen herself – just as another bump came from the flat above. Rose glanced at the clock on the wall – barely six-thirty.
It was rare to hear anything from the holiday flat above in the early mornings. Tourists had no need to be up with the lark to get to work, after all, and this occupant – who seemed to have been in residence for some weeks – rarely made any sound, aside from the smoke alarm going off once or twice. In fact, had she not caught those occasional glimpses of the figure by the window, Rose would have assumed the flat was empty.
A sudden beep from her phone (still plugged in for its overnight charge) distracted her.
A text from James: Call me soon as you’re up. J
Rose set the call in motion as she settled on the squashy sofa, her mug in one hand, long legs tucked beneath her.
‘You’re up early!’
Rose laughed. ‘Ditto! What’s up?’
James grunted. ‘I got a call from Ade when I got home. He’s having problems with his laptop and needs some help fairly urgently.’
Sensing what might be coming, Rose slowly placed her mug on the coffee table and uncurled her legs.
‘Rose? Are you there?’
‘Yes, sorry. You want me to call on him later.’
‘I know you have tons to get through this morning, and I know how important it is for you to take your lunch break to see your friend.’
‘No, it’s fine.’
‘Well, you haven’t heard it all yet. You have to go there now.’
‘Now?’ Rose felt panic grip her. ‘But I can’t. I only just got out of bed. I need to shower; wash my hair; get dressed and…’
‘Calm down.’ James was laughing. ‘When I say “now” I mean before you come into the office, first thing you do today. Even if you solve his problem with the laptop, he still needs some secretarial support, and I said we’d provide it.’
Rose fell back against the cushions, her heart racing fit to burst.
‘Fine,’ she said in a strangled voice. And you chose today of all days to offer? ‘But how can I fit that in with all we have to do? What if Roger doesn’t turn up for work again?’ Her sense of duty, of professionalism, was warring with the desire to tell James to get off the damn phone and let her have as much time as possible to make herself presentable.
‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. Damn, there’s an incoming call waiting. You’re a star, Rose. Call me when you’re done with him.’ The line went dead.
‘Fine,’ muttered Rose again, gulping down her tea as she headed for the bathroom. ‘I’ll call you when I’m done with him all right; in about twenty-five years’ time, if not more!’
Chapter Five
It hadn’t taken Rose long to sort out the doctor’s laptop, though she had been unable to retrieve the document he’d been working on. She longed to suggest he purchase a new one with more up-to-date software, but didn’t have the courage. He’d been so intent on rewriting all his work from the previous day, including some new theories and additional finds from the dig, to ensure the latest version of his talk had some benefit to returning festival-goers, she hadn’t wanted to disturb him.
Keen to catch up on himself, Dr Trevellyan had already been scribbling away in longhand when Rose arrived, clearly oblivious to the thought she had put into what she was wearing – her smartest black suit and heels, her unruly hair completely tamed in a tight chignon – or, luckily, the habitual colour filling her cheeks the moment he opened the door.
After resuscitating the ailing laptop, Rose had begun typing from the notes he had quickly pieced together, and, watching him discreetly from under her lashes as she worked, she sighed softly. His hair was a tousled mess, but even with his wire-rimmed spectacles – very Harry Potter – perched on the end of his nose and the stubble on his chin and the red wine stain on his shirt, she found him completely adorable. He even had an endearing way of talking to himself under his breath as he worked.
Finally, however, Dr Trevellyan was done, and he passed the additional slides to her before excusing himself to get showered. Rose, not wanting to think about what he was doing, hurriedly finished the notes and tried to focus on adding the slides into his presentation. She was just about to do a run-through of the slideshow when a muffled beeping sound penetrated her brain. Patting down the papers on the desk, she finally retrieved her mobile from beneath a copy of the doctor’s own book, Intrepid Archaeology.
A text from Morgan: Please tell me you’ve spilled coffee on his shirt and you mopped it up with yours and you two are locked in a passionate embrace right now.
Rose almost squeaked aloud, dropping the phone as though it had burst into flames.
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br /> ‘Everything all right?’
Rose glanced over her shoulder. The doctor stood in the doorway; his hair was wet from the shower, the stubble had gone, and he was still buttoning a clean, white shirt. Hard on Morgan’s text, Rose couldn’t prevent the deepest blush from scalding her already warm cheeks.
‘I – er, yes; I’m fine. Just a friend.’ She quickly locked her phone to ensure the message was no longer visible on the screen and smacked it face-down onto the table. She turned back to the laptop, aware he was looking at her in some concern.
Rose couldn’t blame him; she must look like her hand had been caught in the biscuit tin.
Dr Trevellyan said nothing, however, returning to his seat and soon lost again in his work. Rose gave herself a mental talking-to and forced her attention towards the slideshow. The morning had flown by, which was all well and good, but she really should check in at the office. Just then, her mobile rang and, half-expecting it to be James, Rose was surprised and a little anxious to see it was Morgan’s number.
She glanced at the doctor; he seemed unaware of the interruption, but as she stood up and answered the call with a wary ‘Hello,’ she walked over to one of the windows on the far wall.
‘How’s Doctor Gorgeous?’
‘Fine, fine.’ Rose lowered her voice and hissed, ‘Better than you will be when I get through with you.’
Morgan laughed. ‘So he’s still got his shirt on, then? Tragedy.’
Only just. ‘Do you need me?’ Rose was very conscious the doctor couldn’t help but overhear her side of the conversation; she only hoped Morgan’s voice wasn’t audible, too. She wasn’t exactly… quiet.
‘Yes, I’m on my way to drag you off for some lunch because I’m starving. I’ve been to your office, and James directed me up here.’
‘Oh! Yes, of course.’ A momentary panic gripped Rose. ‘But no need to come here – I’ll meet you – where are you?’
‘Just coming up to some huge, cream-coloured stone buildings.’
Rose furrowed her brow. ‘Okay…’
The Particular Charm of Miss Jane Austen Page 3
