Sarah was still muzzy from the anaesthetic and did not recognise Nicola, but the sister assured her she was making good progress and Nicola would be able to see her again and talk later in the day.
'Come back about six this evening,' she suggested as she showed Nicola out of the ward.
Nicola found a telephone and rang Mrs Trotter, reassuring her that Sarah was in no danger.
'Shall I phone her mother?' Mrs Trotter asked anxiously.
'I don't think so, not yet anyway. Wait until Mr Wilmington gets back. It would not do any good to have Mrs Frayn rushing back here now.'
'No, that's what I thought. Will you be back yourself soon?'
'I might as well stay here and see her tonight, then I'll be able to tell her brother how she is. I imagine I can get a bus back to Lymington tonight?'
'Yes, and Mr Trotter can fetch you.'
'But it's your night off. I can get a taxi. And don't cook for me. And I don't think Mr Wilmington will be home early.'
'I'll leave something you can heat up. Now don't worry.'
Nicola spent an anxious day wandering round the town, exploring the shops, visiting the Art Gallery, walking in the many gardens, but not really interested in anything. She discovered where she could catch a bus and how much the fare was and then, carefully hoarding her money, bought some chocolate to sustain herself and some grapes and flowers for Sarah.
Sarah was weak but cheerful and begged Nicola not to worry her mother.
'She'll only leave Emma and little Mandy and they need her more than I do. I've got you.'
'I expect Robert will come and see you tomorrow. Is there anything you want? I packed in such a hurry I'm sure to have forgotten something. I'll send in whatever you want. Books?'
'Come yourself, please,' Sarah said urgently, and Nicola said she would do her best.
She left the hospital and fortunately did not have to wait long for a bus. In Lymington she discovered she had underestimated how much a taxi would cost, and reluctantly decided she would have to walk. She had remembered she could not get in the house to find any more as she did not have a key, and the Trotters would be out.
By the shortest route it was about four miles to The Lodge, but it was dark long before Nicola reached it. She shivered, for her sweater was not very thick and a sea mist was creeping in, making her wet as well as cold. An owl screeched overhead and she jumped nervously. Thank goodness she was not on an open Forest road where she might run unexpectedly into a group of ponies or cattle.
She was a few hundred yards from the gates of The Lodge when the soft purr of the Mercedes came up behind her. She turned, footsore and weary, raising her arms to shield her eyes from the glare of the headlights.
The car stopped and Robert stepped out.
*
'What the devil!' he exclaimed, and in the light from his headlamps saw Nicola's dishevelment, her hair tangled, her face pale from weariness and lack of sleep, and the inadequate jeans and sweater.
'Sarah,' she began to explain, coughing as the cold air caught her throat.
'What of her? Has she escaped from you again? Are you incapable of being left for a single day without her getting into mischief? I suppose she's out again with that wretched Scott fellow, and you've been walking the lanes in search of her.'
It was too much, after her sleepless night and the worry and the long dark walk from Lymington. Permitting the tears to spill over from her eyes unheeded Nicola faced him furiously.
'Are you so fixed in your crazy idea she and Tony Scott mean to elope you cannot think of any other reason for my being out here?' she demanded. 'Tony Scott's no penniless artist, and it's not likely he'd leave his horses and the only way he has of earning a living even for your wealthy sister who won't get any money for years yet! Why don't you stop being so prejudiced and look at it calmly for once?'
He was staring at her, an enigmatic look on his face, but she was too occupied in brushing the tears from her cheeks to see him as he stepped forward, and the first she knew of his reaction to her outburst was when a large clean silk handkerchief was put into her hand and strong, comforting arms went round her to hold her close.
'I'm sorry, Nicola! My wretched temper. You're so cold. Here, come and get into the car and tell me what's wrong.'
She was clinging to him, aware of the subtle perfume of the Blackwatch aftershave and the muscles rippling under his skin, for he wore only a thin polo necked sweater. As he cradled her head against his chest she could feel the steady beating of his heart and she wanted to remain there, warm and safe and protected, for ever. But before he could turn and lead her towards the car, a few feet away, another car swept along the lane and screeched to a halt as they were lit up in the second pair of headlights.
'Robert! What is it, darling? Is Nicola hurt?' It was Jane's voice, and Nicola hastily drew away from Robert's protective arms and wiped away the remaining tears. Jane slid from behind the wheel of her car, a sleek red two-seater Mercedes, and walked across to them. She was wearing a long, close-fitting white dress trimmed with silver thread which gleamed in the lights from the cars.
'What is it?' she repeated in a sharper voice when Robert did not reply. 'I've been phoning all day and there was never any answer. I called in on my way home from the Bentonfords but there's no one there.'
'Sarah's in hospital in Bournemouth, appendicitis,' Nicola said swiftly. 'I was on my way home.'
'But Miss Browne, why walk?' Jane asked in amusement.
'She's perfectly all right,' Nicola was saying to Robert, ignoring Jane. 'They operated straight away last night and she was awake and quite comfortable this evening.'
He was looking at her intently, and nodded. 'Come, I'll take you home. I'll phone you Jane,' he said over his shoulder and Jane, starting to say something and thinking better of it, turned on her heel.
'Give poor dear Sarah my love. I'll go and see her as soon as she's allowed visitors,' she called, and then slammed her car door and drove off with a clashing of gears.
Robert helped Nicola into the car and brusquely told her to wait when she began to explain what had happened. Leaving the car on the drive he led her inside the house, and not until she had been taken into his study and told curtly to sit down on a wide, velvet covered settee and given a goblet of brandy, would he permit her to speak.
*
Shivering from cold and tiredness as well as the reaction at no longer bearing the difficulties alone, Nicola explained. When she had drunk the brandy Robert took the glass from her, and sat down beside her, rubbing her cold hands between his, which warmed her but did not cure the trembling.
'Poor Nicola,' he said softly. 'Go to bed now. I'll phone the hospital and we'll go over and see her tomorrow, and then I'll take you to dinner somewhere afterwards. I'll wait until I see her before phoning Mother. You were right not to worry her.'
'How is Emma?' Nicola asked, trying to ignore the fact that he was still holding her hands in his and his touch sent tingling sensations right through her.
'She'll pull through but she had a very bad time and she was so grateful to Mother for going to care for Mandy I could not drag her back here yet. If I can phone tomorrow and say that Sarah is well on the way to recovery that will be best. Now, off to bed with you. Or are you hungry? Have you had anything to eat today?'
'I – Yes, I'm ravenous,' Nicola suddenly discovered. 'I forgot my bag. I had very little money left, just enough for the bus to Lymington. I'll make something, shall I? Have you eaten?'
'Let's open a tin. I know where Mrs Trotter keeps them, although normally she scorns to use them.'
He led the way through to the kitchen where they found a pan of soup waiting. He heated it up and fried some bacon and eggs. Nicola, exhausted, was happy to obey his stern command to sit down at the table out of the way, and she watched admiringly as he showed he was quite at home in a kitchen.
'I didn't somehow expect you to be a good cook,' she said, as he set a bowl of soup down before her.
/>
'Heating this up isn't exactly difficult,' he laughed. 'I've a flat in town and I can't stand having someone else around in a small place, so I cope for myself.'
When they had finished their picnic meal Nicola, feeling unaccountably shy as she recalled the pressure of his arms about her, thankfully accepted his refusal to permit her to do the washing up, and left him loading the dishwasher as she went wearily to bed.
*
Chapter 5
It was late in the morning before Nicola woke. She had a pounding headache, and dressed slowly then went to find Mrs Trotter.
'Has Mr Wilmington telephoned the hospital?' she asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee.
'Yes, and Sarah is fine, there's no cause for alarm. It was a mercy you sent straight for the ambulance and didn't panic, though! I'm sorry we were out last night. Mr Wilmington said how he found you walking home. I never dreamed you'd not get a taxi!'
'It was my own silly fault. I forgot my bag and didn't have any money for a taxi, or even a key to get in to find some more money if I'd brought a taxi here. Oh, dear, and now my head aches terribly.'
Mrs Trotter gave her some aspirins, and firmly told her to sit down and eat, despite Nicola's protests that she did not feel hungry and would have been content with coffee. Robert was at the stables and did not appear for lunch, simply sending a message he would be ready to start at five.
When her headache did not improve Nicola took more aspirins and went back to bed. She slept again, waking only when Mrs Trotter brought a tray of tea into her room later in the afternoon.
'Are you feeling better? Perhaps you should stay in bed for the rest of the day. Mr Wilmington can go on his own to see Sarah.'
'I feel much better, thanks,' Nicola protested, sitting up slowly. 'I promised her I'd go. Is that the time? I'll have to rush.'
'Well, if you're sure. I'll run you a bath while you drink your tea in peace!'
While she sipped the tea and tried to convince herself that the muzziness she still felt was merely the result of sleeping during the day, Nicola planned what to wear. She had a dress with very narrow shoulder straps, suitable for evening wear although short, and a matching jacket. It was in a deep blue cotton, the colour exactly the same as her eyes, and embroidered with tiny white flowers.
She had some new white sandals that went with it, and her only good ring, a deep blue sapphire which had belonged to her mother.
There was no time to soak in the bath and Nicola had to hurry to finish dressing by five. She applied her make-up carefully and decided that her cheeks were still too flushed with excitement, so tried to tone them down with powder.
Satisfied at last she went up to the drawing room where Robert was waiting.
He rose to his feet as she entered and she caught the look of approval in his eyes before he turned to the tray of drinks, asking what she would like.
Suddenly shy, Nicola chattered of trivialities, thinking how devastatingly handsome he looked in a dark grey suit and white silk shirt. She was thankful when it was time to leave. To her surprise he took an unfamiliar road heading away from the coast, instead of the road to Lymington.
'Which way do you go?' she asked.
'The main coast road is always crowded with holiday traffic at this time of day,' he replied. 'If I take the side roads through Boldre and Sway and round behind New Milton I can get there in far less time than crawling along behind sightseers!'
The lanes were narrow and twisting but he drove the fast car expertly. They wove their way through a maze of unfrequented lanes, touching the main roads which were congested as he had said only briefly when they had to cross them. In little over half an hour he had covered the twenty or so miles to the hospital, and having parked the car in the car park, they walked through the hospital to where Sarah had been moved to a private room.
She looked much better than on the previous day and was already demanding to know when she might come home.
Robert soothed her and gave her news of Emma, saying how he expected that she would come to The Lodge with her two babies when they were able to travel.
'Will she come back to live with us?' Sarah asked wistfully.
'That is up to her. She knows that she will be welcome, but she has her own friends now even though Keith has left her.'
'Can I go and stay with her then? You've always forbidden it before.'
'She will have enough to cope with without visitors for a while. Let us wait and see how she recovers from the birth. Do you like this room?'
'I think I preferred it in the ward. Why did you ask them to move me? It was more interesting with people to talk to. Can I have a television in here?'
'Yes, of course. Why didn't you ask for one?'
Sarah shrugged. 'I didn't know what you had said,' she replied slowly. 'You look nice, Nicola. I haven't seen that dress before.'
Nicola blushed. 'Thank you. I bought the books you asked for,' she said hurriedly to cover her confusion, greater because Robert was looking at her in some amusement.
*
When they left, Robert drove to a small restaurant near the ancient Priory church in Christchurch, and without consulting Nicola he ordered Champignons Provencal and Filet de Porc Basquaise. As they ate he told her about the various legends connected with the building of the original Priory. First the materials had repeatedly been moved from the chosen site to where the church had eventually been built. Then an extra workman had helped with the building but had never appeared to be paid. Finally, one night when the workmen had gone home dispirited because an important beam in the roof had, when lifted up, been found to be a foot short, they returned in the morning to find it in place, miraculously lengthened to more than the required span.
'It is still there, high in the roof. We must go and see it one day,' Robert said. 'There is also a most lovely, delicately carved chantry intended for Margaret, the Countess of Salisbury, the last of the Plantagenets.'
'Wasn't she beheaded?' Nicola asked.
'Yes, Henry the Eighth imprisoned and finally executed her because her son, Cardinal Pole, would not agree with Henry's religious changes. She was nearly eighty then, and buried in the Tower of London in the chapel for traitors, so her chantry chapel here was not used as she had wished.'
Robert went on to talk about his horses, and asked Nicola about her life in Paris and at the University. She felt the full effect of his charm and forgot her criticisms of his behaviour as she responded to his friendliness.
'What happens next?'
'I'm doing a Bilingual Secretarial Course next year, in London, and hope to work for the European Commission or some other international agency.'
'Not as a florist?' he asked suddenly.
She blushed furiously.
'Will you ever forgive me for that? Although actually it was Sharon who made the mistake,' she added defensively. 'She forgot which message was for which customer,' she said, blushing as she realised she could scarcely tell him that Sharon had not looked at them in her haste to get to the door and watch him. That would merely increase his self-esteem, she told herself sharply. 'She did not think the other customer, who was old and bald and fat, could possibly have sent such a message. But he must have done. How odd,' she exclaimed, and giggled. 'I do hope Mrs Prendergast was not too annoyed. I have been wanting to apologise but did not know how to,' she confessed.
'You have no reason to. It is I who ought to apologise for frightening you,' he said, his eyes twinkling. 'You don't know how hard it was to resist kissing a pretty girl who had literally thrown herself into my arms!'
Nicola blushed again and looked down at her plate, her thoughts a wild jumble.
He could not possibly think her pretty when he was surrounded by women like Jane, beautiful and sophisticated. She had thought he was furious with her, angry at what he had assumed to be a deliberate attempt to attract his attention.
He was so incredibly handsome that no doubt many girls tried all kinds of ploys to draw his atten
tion to them. Then she realised he had said he had wanted to kiss her, and she cast him a startled glance.
'It was an accident, but you had a right to be furious. I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm sorry.'
He laughed. 'So am I,' he replied enigmatically, his eyes glinting in amusement.
To Nicola's relief he did not pursue the subject, but explained more of the history of the little town.
'That shop opposite was built over five hundred years ago. It was an inn at first and used by smugglers. There have always been plenty of them along this part of the coast. Shall we walk down to the Quay before going home?'
She nodded eagerly and he called for the bill. When they left the restaurant they went through a turnstile beside the main gates into the Priory grounds. As they walked through the deserted churchyard and along a narrow lane to the small quay beyond he companionably took her arm, and Nicola trembled at the physical contact which sent tremors through her entire body.
They looked at the pleasure boats, rising gently on the water, their shiny paint and metalwork gleaming in the light from the moon and the few street lamps, and Robert pointed to where the main harbour opened out further along the river, where many lights could be seen swinging from the masts of the sailing boats moored there.
As they walked back to the car park Nicola sneezed, and Robert insisted she wore his jacket about her shoulders as he drove home. She snuggled into the smooth fine woollen jacket, where the expensive scent of his aftershave lingered, and surreptitiously stroked it as they drove through the darkness, this time along the main road near to the coast.
*
It was late when they arrived and the house was in darkness. Robert again left the car in the drive and walked to the door to open it for Nicola.
'Mrs Trotter will have left a flask of hot chocolate in the kitchen. Come and get some and some aspirin and then you can go straight to bed and get properly warm.'
Fires in the Forest Page 6
