A suitable husband

by Steele, Jessica

  When life dealt you the occasional sticky end there were sometimes other rewards, Jermaine found, and she smiled at her sister.

  'I'd love to do that, Edwina, believe me I would. But if you take a look out of your window you'll see there's water, water everywhere...'

  'Water?'

  The rain came; the roads are flooded. With luck—' Jermaine smiled ' —I may be able to leave on Monday.'

  'Monday!' Edwina shrieked. Jermaine left her. She was still smiling. It was nice to score one once in a while.

  She bumped into Ash as she was going along the hall to the kitchen. 'Jermaine.' He waylaid her. She stopped and looked at him. 'You're still speaking to me?' he asked, and looked so vulnerable that she realised she was still fond of him—yet, oddly, in a different sort of way. Suddenly he seemed more a friend than a boyfriend.

  'Of course,' she assured him.

  'I—cheated on you,' he said. 'And—I'm sorry I hurt you—I just couldn't seem to help myself.'

  Jermaine had wondered how she would feel on seeing him again, but all that was there was the same sort of affection that she had for Stuart in her office. As always happened. Ash's predilection for Edwina had killed in-

  stantly any warmer romantic feelings Jermaine might have had for him. Edwina had again cast her net and, as far as Jermaine was concerned, Edwina was welcome to him. But Edwina would very shortly be giving him her sad regrets—and Jermaine just felt sorry for him.

  'We were never going to be serious. Ash,' she told him quietly.

  'We weren't?' He looked surprised.

  'We weren't,' she confirmed.

  Ash looked a tinge put out, but that was male pride, she rather supposed. So she smiled at him, and he smiled back, and they went to go their separate ways.

  'It's flooded up to the bridge,' she heard Ash say, and turned to see that Lukas was standing in his study doorway, that his brother had made the comment in passing. How long Lukas had been standing there watching her and Ash in conversation was anybody's guess.

  As Ash went on his way so Jermaine strolled back to the man standing at the study door. 'I need to make another phone call,' she told him bluntly.

  Without a word he stepped aside so she should enter his study. She did not expect him to vacate it this time, so wasn't disappointed

  when he followed her in. She took up the phone and dialed her office number.

  'Mr Bateman, please, Becky,' she asked the girl on the switchboard, and glanced at Lukas while she was holding.

  'You seem very pally with my brother?' he remarked.

  'Perhaps he inherited all the Tavinor charm,' she replied sweetly, and turned her back on him when she heard the voice of her immediate boss coming down the wires. 'Matthew. It's Jermaine. I'm sorry, I won't be able to get in today. I...'

  'You're not ill?'

  'No, I'm fine,' she assured him. 'The thing is, I stayed the night with a relative in Hertfordshire and I can't travel in this mom-ing.'

  'Floods?' he enquired. 'That was some storm last night.'

  'I'm sorry,' she apologised again, knowing how busy they always were at the office on a Friday.

  'That's all right, sweet love,' Matthew answered good-humouredly. 'I'll let you work late on Monday.'

  Jermaine laughed and rang off, and still had a smile on her face as she turned about. She caught Lukas's glance on her, on her laughing mouth—he seemed to enjoy seeing her happy. On reflection, she supposed that for the most part he had only ever seen the grumpy side of her.

  'Thanks,' she tossed at him, and got out of there to go and see what assistance she could be to Mrs Dobson. Poor woman! Prior to Ash moving in temporarily the housekeeper had only had to cater and take care of the household for just Lukas—and from what Ash said Lukas wasn't there half his time. And now not only did she have Ash to cater for, but two other guests as well.

  But, with the house running smoothly, there was only so much that the housekeeper would allow her to do, and Jermaine went to the drawing room. The house was silent, no one about. She went and looked out of the window—it was raining again, pouring down. There seemed scant hope of leaving today. But she was definitely going to work on Monday, Jermaine determined, even if she had to swim it.

  She mooched about; there was no sign of Ash, and Edwina would still be languishing in bed. Jermaine thought of all the work waiting to be done at her office. Work she enjoyed

  doing. She owned that she needed something to do.

  She went back to the kitchen; Mrs Dobson wasn't there. There were many doors along the hall. Jermaine knew the drawing room, and she knew the study. She didn't want to pry. Oh, hang it, she was a sort of guest here—albeit reluctantly, albeit unwanted. She went and knocked at the study door, and went in.

  Lukas was seated at his large desk, a sheaf of papers before him. He put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to state her business. Even before he'd said anything, she didn't care for his attitude. 'Where do you keep your bookshelves?' she asked belligerently, adding—as her normal good manners gave her a prod—Please.'

  Lukas stared at her for a few moments. Then mockingly taunted, 'I do believe the lady's bored.'

  'I'm used to being busy,' Jermaine informed him stonily. 'Mrs Dobson's run out of jobs to give me—and it's tipping it down outside so I can't go for a walk.'

  Again he stared at her, studying her. 'Any good at typing reports?'

  'Brilliant,' she answered, hating that she had felt the need to explain anything to him.

  'You wouldn't care to type something for me, I suppose?'

  It was enough that she was incarcerated here, without having to work for the wretched man. 'You suppose correctly. I wouldn't,' she replied. 'I'd rather read a book.'

  He shrugged, a 'suit yourself kind of shrug, but got up to escort her to the library. Without another word he left her there, and that was when Jermaine started feeling the meanest thing on two legs.

  She had no reason to feel mean, she tried to console her conscience. She didn't want to be here. If he hadn't had the audacity to call on her parents, she would never have come here.

  With her conscience prodding away at her, however, Jermaine found the strength of her anger against Lukas Tavinor weakening. She discovered too that she seemed unable to concentrate on searching for a book to occupy her. She didn't want to be here—she wanted to be at work.

  Conscience bit again as she realised that Tavinor probably didn't want to be here either. He worked hard, and must want to be at his London office. But, in the event of not being able to get there, he couldn't even have his house to himself.

  Jermaine strove desperately to keep her mutiny going. She wasn't going to type his mouldy old report; she wasn't, she wasn't. His PA could do it on Monday, when... Ah, but his PA was away from work sick.

  Jermaine abandoned all pretence of looking for something to read. Wouldn't she be doing his PA as much a favour as him? His PA would have other work to catch up on when she returned to work, of that Jermaine felt sure. Really, when she thought about it, to type that report was hardly a favour to anyone. Both she and Edwina were under his roof, enjoying his hospitality. True, in her own case it was hospitality she would prefer not to have to endure, but she had no wish to be beholden to anyone, and certainly not him. To type that wretched report would perhaps go some way to repaying him a little.

  The matter was settled. Before she could change her mind, and not giving herself chance to think further lest she sailed on straight past the study, Jermaine went briskly from the library. She was so against doing what her conscience dictated, though, that she didn't this time even pause to knock, but went marching into the study.

  She stopped dead. Tavinor looked up—he was on the telephone to some female named Beverley. Had she followed her instinct, Jermaine would have promptly turned about and got out of there. She was sure she wasn't remotely concerned at hearing him ma
king arrangements to meet Beverley at some art gallery in a week's time—Edwina would be thrilled. But Jermaine knew then that if she turned about and left Tavinor's study she would never enter it again. Besides, he'd stayed around while she'd made two telephone calls. What was sauce for the goose...

  He put the phone down—too busy to stay chatting to Beverley all day, obviously, Jermaine mused sourly, hardly knowing why she felt so anti-Beverley. She didn't even know the woman!

  Lukas Tavinor sat silently watching and waiting, and the moment passed when Jermaine would have told him not to curtail his love-phone calls on her account. 'So Where's the computer?' she snapped instead.

  Again she experienced previously unknown pugilistic tendencies when his lips twitched.

  'I've an idea, deep down, you're rather a nice person,' he mocked.

  It was touch and go then that Jermaine didn't turn about and march straight out of there. 'I wouldn't bank on it!' she retorted, and—when he got to his feet and moved the computer to a workstation for her—she stayed.

  She had told him she was brilliant at typing reports; too late now to wish she'd been a bit more modest. For the first ten minutes she concentrated hard on being as brilliant as she had said she was. Then she became absorbed in the report she was working on, and as her fingers flew over the keyboard she could not help but admire the subject matter and the conciseness of its author.

  'I think you should take a break now.' Lukas Tavinor's voice cut into her absorption with the work in hand.

  Jermaine looked up. 'What?'

  'Mrs Dobson will have some sort of a meal ready for us.'

  Jermaine got herself together. 'You're good,' she said begrudgingly, and started to print what she had so far typed.

  'Not brilliant?'

  Was he teasing? Looking up at him, she stared into serious grey eyes. For the moment that steely glint was missing, but she thought she saw a gleam of something else—humour.

  perhaps. Her heart gave a crazy little flutter— which she at once denied and went to check the first of the printing.

  But Lukas was there before her. Their hands touched as they both reached for the same piece of paper. She pulled back quickly, realising this whole nightmare was having more effect on her than she'd thought—she had felt tingly all over for a moment or two then.

  She watched as he read what she had so faultlessly typed. 'You were speaking the truth,' he observed admiringly, taking his eyes from the paper in his hands.

  Strangely, she wanted to laugh. 'I never lie on a Friday,' she commented—and made hastily for the door.

  She went to the kitchen wondering what on earth was the matter with her? She knew for a fact that some of the executives at Masters asked especially that she should do their work. Her pride and accuracy in her work was appreciated. Indeed, her employers said as much. But never, when receiving compliments from one of them, had she ever felt so flustered as just now, when Lukas Tavinor had intimated she had been speaking only the truth when she'd said she was brilliant at typing reports.

  'Anything I can help you with?' she asked Mrs Dobson on going into the kitchen.

  That's most kind of you, but no,' the housekeeper declined. 'You were such a big help this morning, preparing the salad for lunch and doing the vegetables for tonight. Ash has taken your sister's tray up, so I can put my feet up for an hour or so. I've laid for lunch in the dining room.'

  From preference Jermaine would have chosen to eat with the housekeeper. By the sound of it Edwina had no intention of leaving her room until this evening, which meant she would have to eat her lunch with Lukas and Ash—and she had nothing very much she wanted to say to either of them.

  As it happened Jermaine wasn't called upon to say very much at all. Ash was solicitous and, while seeing to it that she had all to eat that she required, seemed to put himself out to entertain her. Jermaine wondered, had she not discovered he had 'feet of clay', if she would have been flattered by his attentions. Involuntarily she glanced at Lukas—and thought not. Somehow Lukas, who was saying very little but, she didn't doubt, missed nothing, seemed more of a man of the two—Ash, by comparison, seemed quite shallow.

  Jermaine blinked and wondered at the way her thoughts were going. She'd never used to think of Ash as shallow. She had in fact been quite taken with him! But, now, she all at once she felt quite grateful that Ash had defected. It endorsed for her the fact that they had been going nowhere and that their non-relationship would have eventually, sooner rather than later, petered out.

  She looked at Lukas and found his eyes on her. She flicked her glance away as the craziest notion struck that, beside Lukas, any man would appear shallow. Good grief! Get your head together girl, do!

  'More fruit?' Ash enquired.

  Jermaine shook her head and, with a quick look at their empty plates, said, 'If you've both finished?' she took charge bossily, 'I'll clear this table and you...'

  'I'll help,' Ash volunteered—Jermaine noticed 'Big Brother' stayed silent.

  Lukas had gone by the time she returned from the kitchen with a tray. She was glad he had gone. She was feeling a touch unnerved and wasn't quite sure why. Though it was true she was hating this farcical situation she had been forced into.

  She was busily stacking the tray with used dishes when, looking up, her glance lighted on Ash—she had never seen him looking so down.

  'What's the matter, Ash?' she enquired quietly.

  'Oh, sorry,' he apologised at once. 'I was trying not to let it show.'

  'You're upset about something?'

  He shook his head—but then, as if unable to keep it bottled up any longer, 'Edwina,' he said. 'I know she's in pain but—well, I arranged to have today off so I could be with her, so she wouldn't have to suffer alone, but she doesn't seem to want to know.'

  Jermaine was at something of a loss to know what to say. She supposed she could have reminded him that with the roads being flooded he'd have had to take the day off anyway. But that wasn't the point. He was hurting and, knowing that Edwina was likely to ditch him any day now, Jermaine didn't see how she could give him false hope with regard to her sister.

  'I'm—sorry,' was the best, the inadequate best, she could come up with, and she disliked it intensely that Edwina had put her in this position, where she couldn't give Ash the hope that everything would come out right for him.

  'No, 'I'm sorry!' Ash exclaimed quickly. 'Whatever was I thinking of, complaining to you after the shabby way I treated you?'

  'Oh, Ash,' Jermaine said helplessly. But as he moved towards her, and she received the distinct impression that because he was so upset he was coming over to her for a hug of comfort, she quickly changed the subject. 'Come on,' she brightly donned her bossy hat again, 'Let's get these dishes back to the kitchen.'

  Ash helped with a few chores in the kitchen—which was rare, she guessed, because Mrs Dobson seemed quite bemused by it happening. Not so Jermaine, for it became clear to her, when he asked her to go for a walk with him in the grounds of Highfield, that Ash was very much at a loose end.

  'I've already been up to my ankles in your brother's grounds once today, thanks all the same,' she declined.

  'I'm sure Mrs Dobson has a pair of Wellingtons somewhere she can lend...'

  'I'm mid-way through typing a report for Lukas,' Jermaine interrupted, and escaped from the kitchen. Ash already gone from her thoughts. How peculiar! For all Lukas's name had come out sounding quite natural, she had felt all kind of chaotic inside on speaking his name.

  By the time she arrived at his study she was consigning any such nonsensical notion to the bin. Since she had started a precedent, she opened the door and went in without knocking.

  Lukas Tavinor looked up as she entered. 'I'm back,' she said, unnecessarily, she knew, but she somehow felt the need to make some small comment—though why just seeing this man should make here feel all kind of out of step with herself, she was baffled
to know.

  She took her seat thinking he might have likewise made some pleasant reply. A 'So I see' wouldn't have hurt. But forget that, and forget pleasantry. He did have something to say, however, albeit more grated than said as he questioned toughly, 'What's with you and Ash?'

  Taken slightly aback, Jermaine stared at Lukas wide-eyed. Talk about accusing! Where did he get off...? 'Nothing's with Ash and me!' she retorted hotly. 'Except in your imagination,' she added for good measure—and ignored him from then on, slamming into finishing the report, wishing she was the kind of person who could leave work only half done.

  Pig! Watchful swine! Those keen grey eyes didn't miss much, did they? Not that there was anything very much to miss—except, she qualified, that perhaps she and Ash might seem to know each other that bit better than merely having been introduced once by Edwina. Trust eagle-eyed Lukas to notice. Though it wasn't so much what he said which she found so annoying as the way he said it. Arrogant devil!

  An hour later and Jermaine found she had worked her anger with Lukas out of her system. A half-hour after that and, her respect for his work extremely high, she began printing off what she had that afternoon typed, and was once more on as much of an even keel as she was likely to be, given the circumstances.

  The phone rang as she was collecting the papers together. She almost reached automatically for it. She checked, and left Lukas to answer it—only he didn't, and she realised he was too involved with what he was doing. Either that or he wasn't expecting a call and had left Ash or Mrs Dobson to take the call elsewhere in the house. But the ringing reminded her that she needed a telephone.

  She inspected her work for mistakes, found none, but when she decided to leave her work by the computer for Lukas to pick up, a glance in his direction showed he had broken off from what he was doing and had his eyes on her.