‘I do not!’ Rachael cried indignantly. ‘I absolutely do not.’ She didn’t! Yes he was as attractive this time around as he had been that time, but she had Matey! ‘Rob’s a friend!’ she cried. ‘And you cite that as another similarity? If things were “similar” I wouldn’t be friends with Rob like I am now. Tessa and Richard never even spoke! She just watched him from afar. She was a maid for crying out loud and he was a member of the gentry. They had no chance. And I know that Rob and Susie are just friends. Nothing more. And neither do I remotely resent their friendship. Not like Tessa who struggled with Hannah spending so much time with Richard! And neither do I have you – Kathryn! – feeding me lies about the nature of that relationship, fuelling jealousy and envy and using it to get me to do your dirty work. Unlike Tessa! So how about you take that history repeating theory of yours and stick it up your—’
Rachael broke off on a gasp. No! ‘And before you say a word!’ she cried, ‘I wasn’t at all jealous that Rob danced like that with Susie!’ And she wasn’t! She wasn’t! It had to be because she was a woman, Rob an attractive man … and Matey was … not. Damn the blip! ‘See? History is not therefore repeating itself,’ she said weakly.
Rachael now watched Cassie’s face pale before her eyes. Flaming Nora, what was she going to say next? ‘Rob is not going to be plotting against George and Susie!’ she pre-empted. ‘He’s—’
‘I thought of who I know …’ Cassie’s voice was so quiet Rachael could barely hear it. ‘No wonder I had such a bad feeling and started going down this route. I knew there had to be other factors …’ Cassie’s haunted eyes held hers. ‘They’re here. They are here. Matthew and Prudence are here.’
Chapter Twenty-One
‘I don’t need feeding, George,’ Susie giggled, nevertheless opening her mouth to receive the piece of fresh pineapple George held poised on a fork.
‘I know, but this is rather fun.’ He leant forward to kiss her gently on the lips and to expertly – soo expertly – lick up some pineapple juice that had managed to escape. ‘I think every Sunday morning should be spent like this. And humour me; I’ve never handfed a woman before.’
Susie gently pushed George’s hand away as he attempted to provide her with more fruit. She giggled and raised a brow. ‘That’s because we can feed ourselves. And I’m sorry, but I couldn’t possibly eat any more.’ She leant forward and gave him a lingering kiss before sitting back in her chair so her overly full stomach felt less uncomfortable. She took the opportunity to let her eyes wander around the kitchen again. So tasteful. Gorgeous actually. Understated, but very evidently very expensive. It was all a far cry from her and Rachael’s flat. Well, her old flat, she realised on a frown.
‘What’s put that look on your face?’ George asked, wiping his fingers on a piece of kitchen towel, sliding the plates forward on the table laden with enough food to feed an army, and resting his crossed arms upon the cleared surface.
‘Just how strange it will be not sharing the flat with Rach.’
‘You’ll miss her?’
‘Mmmm. We’ve been living in digs or sharing places ever since Uni. It will be strange. I’m not quite sure how she’ll fend for herself. She’s not the most practical of human beings.’ George was frowning now, she realised.
‘Are you having second thoughts?’ he asked tentatively and intently watched his index finger brush croissant crumbs around the table.
Oh George. She leaned forward, placing her own arms upon the table now and inching them forward. When they made contact with his, he looked up and she shook her head and grinned.
He reached out to pick up her hand with one of his own and play with her fingers before joining their palms. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, I really can’t. But…’ He sighed. ‘There’s a whole suite of rooms on the top floor which if, for the short-term at least, you … If you would feel better you could offer her those?’
‘Not a chance.’ Susie smirked, shaking her head. ‘She would drive you up the wall, I promise you that. But thank you. Thank you so much for offering. I’ll talk to her. It’ll be fine.’
He shrugged, but his relief was more than evident and Susie started giggling again. ‘What would you have done if I’d said yes?’
Grinning and chuckling in that totally irresistible way of his, he said, ‘I really don’t know. But evidently I’ll put myself through anything for you! We didn’t exactly hit it off. I think the accusation of my having repressed psychotic tendencies following whatever it was she did to me that day, may have had something to do with it.’
Giggling uncontrollably now, Susie managed to get out, ‘She didn’t! I’m so sorry.’ Then archly, she added, ‘What did you do, George?’
He laughed. ‘That’s the million dollar question!’
‘Whatever it was my body kind of liked it.’
‘Ditto,’ George murmured, with that look in his eyes as he held hers.
Susie decided there and then that it was impossible for her body to run at normal temperature around George. She released some air from her lips to blow it up over her face. But God it felt good. Deliriously good. As did George simply holding her hand.
‘We should pop over and pick up some of your things later?’ he suggested. ‘And we should sort out the best way of getting you to work from here.’
‘I’ll bus it,’ Susie said, before real life intruded. She groaned at the realisation. ‘I’ve got marking to do later. I forgot all about it.’
‘Perhaps I could run a bath for when you’ve finished?’
She met his grin. She knew just where he was going with that suggestion and that sounded like a pretty wonderful incentive to get the marking done pronto.
‘About the bus though …’
‘Mmmm,’ she said, it being her turn to play with his fingers. His hands were huge. She raised one up and placed her palm to his again. Wow. She should have known. He was what, six foot two to her five foot four, well possibly three? And his fingers … How could someone have sexy fingers? She felt herself blush as she remembered recent occurrences. There was her answer.
‘I would drop you off at work myself if there wasn’t the risk that I’d be spotted and your anonymity blown. But I could arrange a car and that way …’
She shook her head. ‘It’s no issue at all. I always get the bus. I like going to work on the bus. It gives me time to gear up for it and, if I’m lucky and end up nabbing a seat, to read.’ He was still frowning and clearly had something on his mind. ‘What is it?’
‘You know I will do everything I can to protect you from the media, but there’s always the chance they could find out about you. That whole fiasco with The Herald … And if they do, there will be no warning. I don’t want you to have to tackle it alone.’
‘I’ll keep a low profile. Believe me, the whole idea of appearing in the press again, or God forbid having my photo taken …’ She hated photos of herself, even when they didn’t involve G-strings, ‘means I’ll be careful. Very careful.’
His frown deepened. ‘Susie …’
He seemed to be struggling to find a way to best choose his words. He shook his head firmly and started afresh. ‘Susie, I’d like to get you some bodyguards.’
She blinked. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘You heard me, sweetheart.’
She shook her head. ‘Bodyguards?’ She looked into his eyes and took in the determined look on his face. Bodyguards? She shook her head adamantly now and spluttered, ‘No way! Absolutely no way!’
‘I think it would be prudent. If the press got wind of you, then all hell will break loose and—’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, George. You I get but you don’t have them!’
‘Sometimes I do and it would make me feel better here. It’s just a precaution and—’
‘No! No George, no! I don’t need bodyguards. I’m a
teacher! And nobody knows about us. I can’t believe you’ve even suggested it.’
‘What about … What about when, or if, we choose to go public?’
Susie knew she’d blanched. Shit. ‘Look we’ll deal with it then. But in the meantime – no way! If I keep a low profile there’s no reason to think the media will find out about me. There is absolutely no need for bodyguards. I don’t need them and I won’t have them!’
George silently cursed. He’d known this would be a sensitive subject, but hadn’t expected Susie to be quite so adamantly opposed to the concept. But he needed her to have bodyguards. If the media got wind of her, it would be a frenzy with her right in the middle of it, all alone and unguarded.
But it wasn’t just the media. He winced at the realisation.
The idea of her being bodily guarded appealed too, thanks to that damned haunting fear which he’d yet to get a grip on. Rather than lessening, it was bloody well growing and was unnerving him big time. Yes, she might leave him, but alternatively, she might get hurt and … He couldn’t finish that thought. Bodyguards would be a comfort. He’d work on her. And himself. Because he knew he was being illogical and needed a healthy dose of rationality.
Yet rationality seemed to regularly go out of the window where Susie was concerned. He could keep his head in any damned situation … unless it involved Susie. With her, instincts kicked in. Extreme instincts. Deep rooted, hunter-gatherer, protect what’s mine instincts. And trying to control it … particularly where her safety was concerned … Jesus.
But there must be a way to reach a happy compromise here that worked for them both.
As for the media … He’d do whatever it took to protect Susie from the public eye. Whatever it took.
‘I believe we need to work on a mutually agreeable compromise,’ he said, raising his eyebrows. And how rational had he just sounded?
Susie frowned before breaking out into a wide grin. And that look … straight to his groin. ‘Feel free to work on me whenever you like, George. If you think you’re up for it, of course?’
‘I am Cassie Silbury,’ Cassie asserted out loud as she sat at her desk in her second bedroom where so much of her work was done. She was saying that, not because of fears she was Kathryn Montague, but because she was Cassie Silbury: top investigative journalist and bitch hack! She needed to get a grip on herself and if it meant going into full-blown professional mode to do so, then that’s exactly what she’d do. Because God help her … personal mode was a bit of a mess right now.
She took a deep fortifying breath. She would look at everything objectively and not allow panic to enter the equation as it had done last night, despite her best efforts to the contrary. Rachael had been spot on when she had said Cassie’s fears were being played to. Of course they were! The whole idea that George might—
Cassie Silbury, she urgently reminded herself as she abruptly sat forward in her seat and grabbed her pen. She was going to be calm and rational. She repositioned her notepad so it was squarely in the middle of her desk and directly before her. See. She could do this.
‘What’ and ‘Why’ she quickly wrote on either side of the blank facing page to form headings for columns. And then underlined both words rapidly rather than allowing herself to add, ‘the effing hell is happening?’ after the first word and ‘did I ever start this damned story?’ after the second. She promptly added question marks after each word to close down the possibility of additions and drew boxes around each to further contain and isolate. She continued adding to the bulk of those boxes as she pondered the appropriate title to go at the top of the page. She concluded she didn’t need one. She was hardly going to be able to forget what all this related to.
She sat back in her seat, the top of her pen against her front teeth. What was going on? Why was it happening? She let all of Rachael’s words and reassurances play back in her head. Which she promptly shook because her life was such that she had no choice right now but to give serious consideration to what The Nutty Regressor had to say. While she would concede that on a personal level she’d found herself warming to Rachael, what came out of her mouth …?
But Rachael did know about past lives. Cassie’s investigations often involved talking to experts in their fields and … She categorically refused to apply that label to Rachael! But she was her best shot right now. The internet had proven a joke on this subject. Cassie recalled what Mark Twain had apparently said, ‘History does not repeat itself. But it does rhyme.’ Clearly he’d never been in Rachael’s consulting room because rhyming didn’t quite hit the spot here. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus.
Similarities? History repeating itself? It seemed like semantics to Cassie. Surely they were much the same? She sat forward to scribble ‘ACTION’ on the blank left hand page, and added ‘Gaps?’ and ‘Monitor and Compare’ underneath the new heading. She’d try and find out from George whether more had been happening than she was aware of. Perhaps the fewer gaps there were, the more likely things would fall into the history repeating camp? But to be honest, she didn’t care what label was applied to what was happening – but that it seemed to be happening at all!
Monitoring what George and Susie were up to in the present and comparing with the past was essential though. She swallowed painfully. She’d read the remaining letters this morning … She clenched her hand tightly around the pen. Grip Cassie. Get a grip! Some of their contents Kathryn had known about. Some she hadn’t. Monitoring would ensure Cassie could gauge whether whatever was happening was still happening … because if it was, it absolutely had to be stopped.
She now wrote ‘HOW???’ in the centre of that main page and circled it forcefully. She presently hadn’t a clue what to put under that, but refused to let her panic rear its head again. Hopefully this would all stop all by itself and she’d never ever need to come up with an answer for that one.
So … ‘Why?’ She raised a hand to her forehead and pressed. All those reasons Rachael had suggested could stand. Perhaps the circumstance of their meeting was having an effect too? But it was no good. She couldn’t help it. How often did she use that gut feeling in her work before allowing it to lead her to—?
‘Matthew and Prudence’ she wrote and felt decidedly ill as she took in that she’d written it where the title would have gone. She rapidly added a question mark … no, four, and then added their names right under the ‘Why?’ column, too. It took a moment but she managed to refocus. They were the answer. If they’d come back good then she could stop worrying about any of this. How could nasty events repeat with all the nasty drivers out of the equation? And who cared if good events replayed? That would be fascinating rather than … terrifying.
Cassie added under her ‘ACTION’ list: ‘Investigate Michael and Porsche’. She refused to let herself think of how she’d never liked Michael and that Porsche was a prize bitch. That was not at all helpful right now. Instead, she reminded herself of her primary rules of investigation: don’t jump to conclusions. Let the evidence speak.
Cassie threw her pen down on the desk and, pushing her notebook out of the way, placed her elbows where her pad had been and lowered her head to her hands. She could not believe they were back! But all would be fine. It had to be! She thought back to the letters and to Kathryn’s memories.
What were the chances of anything happening with a horse in London? And she and Rachael were out of the equation so that couldn’t happen anyway …
It was Saturday morning and Susie stood watching Darcy on his horse. Was there ever a more spectacular sight? Incredibly she could think of several as she recapped over the past blissful, heavenly week. Whereas it wasn’t appropriate to think such things in public, it didn’t stop her body’s response.
George was laughing with Mr Bingley, Alexander Devereaux. And the sound of George’s happiness rippled through her. She closed her eyes and let her body wallow …
Susie snapped her eyes open and gripped the top of the wooden fence in front of her.
‘I’m sorry for startling you. He does look rather dashing, although, of course, I’m biased. He did turn out rather well though, don’t you think?’
Blushing profusely and attempting a broad smile, Susie turned to face George’s mum. Caught red-handed. Again.
‘Mrs Silbury. How lovely to see you again.’
‘Do call me Jennifer.’
‘I didn’t know you were in London … Jennifer.’ Susie managed a genuine smile.
‘Neither do George or Cassie yet. I’m going to surprise her later. Presently, I’m incognito.’ She chuckled and signalled to the spade she’d leant against the fence. Susie did a double take.
‘Don’t ask,’ Mrs Silbury said. ‘Then you can’t be an accessory. Let us just say the opportunity was there and it was too good to miss.’
This didn’t sound at all good. What was she up to? Susie glanced over to George, but the cameras were now rolling and she couldn’t make eye contact.
Despite her concerns, though, Susie couldn’t help but warm to George’s mum. She evidently caused George and Cassie issues, but how nice would it be to have someone around to interfere in your life? Susie missed her own mum. She’d been without her a long time now. Her dad … well Dad was Dad. He’d found the strength from somewhere to bring her and her brothers up, but he wasn’t who he used to be. Susie called and visited, but it was never the other way around.
Romancing the Soul Page 21
