Guy’s eyes seemed to be watching her with a peculiar detachment. No doubt he thought he could glean something of her father’s long-term plans for the business by enquiring into Jane’s involvement.
‘I shan’t be taking over the running of the family firm…’ she said decisively. ‘It’s utterly pointless talking to me about it. I know nothing about it and I don’t want to know. I don’t even own a single share in it. And I have no desire to talk about engineering in any way, shape or form. So that’s that. We can talk about something else starting right now or you can take me home.’ She folded her arms and forced herself to meet his eye.
Damn him. For once his features had allowed themselves to betray his thoughts. Annoyance bit at the corners of his mouth, and his eyes were as hard as steel. He glanced pointedly at his watch. ‘We’ll do without coffee,’ he said coolly. ‘I don’t want to be late.’
Well, there was no fooling herself about what that meant. No information on the firm meant no more of his precious time being wasted. Jane swallowed hard, and collected her anorak which had been draped over the back of her chair. She stood up, drawing herself up to her full five feet six, and holding her chin high. ‘Please don’t let me detain you,’ she said tightly.
Guy tilted his chair back and folded his arms, watching her as she slipped her arms into the sleeves, moving away from him to one side of the table. He let a small, cynical smile play around his mouth. Otherwise he didn’t move a muscle.
Her stomach was still knotty, and her consciousness of him as a man—a very attractive man—was still in full flood. Ugh. Chemistry. Like courtship, it was an old-fashioned word—but no less explicit and accurate for all that. Determined not to betray her own inner sense of humiliation, she dropped her head to fumble with the zip of her anorak. When she had zipped it right up to the neck she found he was still watching her in that disdainful way. She stuck her hands in her pockets and tossed her head.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I thought you were in a hurry?’
His smile widened slightly. Then he glanced at his watch again. ‘I can spare a further two minutes,’ he said. ‘I shall use them up looking at you.’
Jane felt the warmth of embarrassment creep up her neck as she stood staunchly, waiting.
At last he unfolded his lean frame, dropped a banknote on to the table and got to his feet. He put one hand casually on her shoulder and began to move towards the door.
‘Get your hands off me,’ she hissed.
He let his hand drop. ‘Fair enough,’ he commented drily. ‘I take it I’m to be made to wait a little longer for my invitation? No sweat. I can wait.’
There was no way she was going to reply to that one! Jane shook her hair back from her face and walked briskly to the door. She kept her arms folded and said nothing during the short drive back. When he dropped her off outside her front door she got out of the car as fast as she could.
‘Thank you for lunch,’ she muttered as politely as she could manage. ‘I enjoyed it.’
Guy was leaning across the passenger seat to pull her door closed. He tilted his head wryly. That mole—neither large nor small, darkish brown, set just below the proud angle of his cheekbone—caught her eye once more. Again he looked quite beautiful. Again her stomach clenched in recognition of the effect the image had on her senses.
‘Good,’ he said automatically. His eyes met hers then looked away. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he added coldly.
CHAPTER THREE
HE WOULDN’T. She knew that beyond a shadow of doubt. He didn’t like her, and she knew nothing that would be of use to him, so he would not, under any circumstances, get in touch with her.
Ironically, this knowledge did not stop Jane from jumping out of her skin every time the phone rang. Nor did it stop her from re-running their conversations in her head, nor from thinking that she could see a black Lotus disappearing around every bend when she was out of doors. She felt sick with herself. And, of course, he didn’t get in touch.
Matters weren’t helped when her father, made nervous by a a call from a distant cousin revealing that somebody was showing an interest in her few shares, decided to invite Guy to their home for a meal.
‘You’re crazy, Dad,’ she accused.
Her father smiled benignly. ‘I’m not. If he’s going to gobble me up, the sooner he gets a taste for me the better. Anyway, I admire what I’ve seen of the man. If he does buy Garston’s I’d like to think I could get on well with him.’
‘You’re a saint,’ she sighed.
‘A pragmatist,’ he returned firmly, then added kindly, ‘Why worry about it, Janey? Just be happy, huh? That’s all your mother and I have ever wanted for you.’
Jane hadn’t said much to her parents about her encounters with Guy. She thought it might muddy the waters if they felt they had to be loyal to her feelings in the middle of all this. So she prayed that he wouldn’t accept the invitation. When he did accept, the first thing she found herself doing was searching through her wardrobe for the right thing to wear. Disgusted beyond belief she almost cheered with relief when her friend Charlotte rang and offered an alternative itinerary for the evening.
‘We’ll have to drive within fifteen miles of your place, so it will be no trouble to stop by and pick you up,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell Rory you’re coming, so you needn’t feel like a gatecrasher. And anyway, Benedicta and Rupert want you to come, so you must.’
‘OK. OK. I’ll come…I only mentioned the dinner because…well, never mind. This party of Rory’s sounds brilliant. I’ll see you about eightish tomorrow.’
She knew her parents were hurt that she wasn’t going to be there, but honestly, the way things were she’d do more harm than good by remaining. She was doing them a favour by going out. She defied Guy to dislike her parents if he was left on his own with them.
That was what she kept telling herself as she dressed in a drapey black dress with shoe-string straps and waited in the gloomy hall for the twins—Charlotte and Benedicta—and their brother Rupert to show up.
Naturally they were late. Guy hadn’t arrived by the time the red Range Rover pulled up and her friends spilled out, but it was going to be a close-run thing. Jane was feeling decidedly jumpy.
‘Jane, you look gorgeous!’ exclaimed Benedicta. ‘I wish we hadn’t suggested you come now. Charlie and I will look like a pair of old frumps beside you,’
Benedicta could only afford to say this because it was manifestly untrue. Even had the twins not been so pretty, the amount of flesh they were exposing would ensure that however they were classified, it would not be as frumps.
Jane grabbed her coat and bag and headed straight for the car. ‘Come on,’ she muttered. ‘Let’s not hang around.’
Charlie yawned. ‘There’s no rush. I’m stiff after driving up from Sussex. Let’s go in and say hello to your mother.’
‘Let’s not,’ said Jane briskly. ‘She’s entertaining tonight. She’s busy. Some other time, huh?’
‘Oh, yes. You mentioned it on the phone. Some associate of your father’s you said…Who is he? Anyone we know?’
At which point, to Jane’s horror, the black Lotus swerved in through the gates and began swooping up the driveway towards them like a hungry locust.
‘Guy Rexford,’ admitted Jane, clambering swiftly into the back and praying the others would follow.
The Lotus swung past them to the parking bay behind the hedge. The others did not follow her into the Range Rover. They stood languidly on the driveway, looking young and beautiful and enjoying the spring evening— and making very sure they got a good look at whoever was driving that expensive black car.
Rupert stuck his head through the door and grinned at her. ‘Blimey, Jane! You mean you’re passing up an evening with Mr Wonderful to come out with us? Hey, girls, did you hear that?’
The twins had. They too stuck their heads round the door. ‘He’s the one who’s made all that money, isn’t he?’ they said, peering accusingly at Jane. ‘We kn
ow all about him.’
The crunch of feet on gravel had the twins exchanging meaningful glances. Then Benedicta clambered in beside Jane and slammed the door shut, while Charlotte took a few steps towards Guy, who was even now appearing around the hedge. What were those two up to? And, oh, lord, why did he have to look so stunningly mature? One of the problems with being twenty-one was that one had twenty-one-year-old friends. Friends who, Jane knew from experience, could behave as if they were half that age at times. She wondered, not for the first time, why the Berrington girls had befriended her so eagerly. She wasn’t a bit like them, really.
‘I’d better get out and say hello,’ said Jane uncomfortably, her voice low.
But Benedicta shook her head. ‘Why bother?’ she said scornfully. ‘After all, it’s not as if you know him, is it?’
‘I do, actually,’ Jane admitted, watching Charlotte tilt her chin and smile coyly, and say something to Guy with a giggle. His features, of course, were unreadable as he replied, but she could guess that he wasn’t impressed.
‘He took me out to lunch last week, in fact,’ Jane whispered, anxious to distract herself from the excruciating little spectacle taking place beyond the windscreen. ‘Not that I’m seeing him again. I don’t really like him.’
Benedicta pulled a face. ‘I don’t blame you. Yuk. Guy Rexford. Jumped-up so-and-so. I mean who is he? Who are his people?’
Jane was shocked. ‘Joking aside, Benny, I didn’t exactly see eye to eye with him,’ she said courteously, giving the other girl a chance to retract.
But Benedicta merely shrugged. ‘Of course not. How could you? You’re worlds apart. He comes from some dump up north, for a start. It would be impossible to see eye to eye with someone like him. What Daddy can’t understand is, who lent him the money to get started? None of Daddy’s friends in the big merchant banks did, that’s for sure. He says he must have got it by gambling, because he started out without a penny—’
‘Benedicta, are you serious?’ interrupted Jane abruptly, finding a rare, white anger beginning to boil inside her. At the same time she felt cold with shock that someone she had thought she knew could be saying things like this. About anyone. Not just Guy…though the fact that she was daring to say it when the man in question—a man so obviously capable of doing whatever he wanted in life without the patronage of Benedicta’s father’s friends—was standing just yards away, was particularly offensive. How dared she say such things? How dared she?
‘Why shouldn’t I be serious?’ queried Benedicta. ‘The man has no background whatsoever. I mean, anybody can make money these days, but the thing is—’
‘Shut up,’ hissed Jane under her breath. Luckily, Guy had turned on his heel and was mounting the steps to the house. The moment he had gone in she would jump out of this car and clear off in her own. Anything to get away from people who held views like that! Thankfully, the front door opened and he stepped inside.
Jane jumped out of the car. She turned a sickened expression on Benedicta. ‘Do apologise to Rory for me,’ she said in a choked voice, ‘but I shan’t be coming to the party after all.’
‘Jane!’ protested Benedicta indignantly.
Charlotte ran over and blocked Jane’s.path. ‘Come on,’ she said stiffly. ‘Get back in. We’re a bit late. If you’ve forgotten something I can always lend it to you.’
‘I’m not coming,’ said Jane, her voice shaking with fury. ‘Your sister has just been telling me what she thinks of my parents’ guest—’
‘Oh, Rexford?’ interrupted Charlotte casually. ‘He’s an oik, isn’t he?’
‘That’s pretty much what Benedicta said,’ returned Jane disgustedly, her dark eyes blazing. ‘Now if you’ll kindly get out of my way, Charlotte—’
The girl shrugged. ‘But why should you care—?’
‘I care not to be seen in the company of people like you. That’s all you need to know,’ returned Jane angrily.
Rupert grabbed her arm as she strode away. ‘Jane. Please…I’m sure they didn’t mean anything…’ he insisted.
Jane looked into his anxious eyes. ‘Sorry, Rupert, but if they didn’t mean it, then they shouldn’t have said it.’ And she struggled to drag her arm free, but he wouldn’t let go.
Under other circumstances she would have kept her cool and demanded that he let go of her arm in a civilised manner. But the sense of being trapped tipped her over some inner precipice and her temper fled.
‘Let go!’ she yelled, shaking her arm and.throwing him off. ‘I don’t know what your thoughts on the matter are, Rupert, but if you don’t let me go this instant I shall be forced to assume that you think that someone’s breeding is all that counts, as well. Good grief! I’m astonished that you’ve consented to be seen in my company at all. After all, who are my people? What is my background? If that’s the way you think, what the hell are you doing going to parties with someone like me?’
And then, to her horror, another hand came to rest on her beleaguered arm and a crisp, cold voice said, ‘Jane Garston…fighting in the streets? Whatever next?’
Jane was shaking now. Her mind was blurred with rage. She flapped Guy’s arm away, enraged even further by the powerful effect of his touch on her chemically activated senses.
‘Leave me alone!’ she bit out.
He crooked one eyebrow drily. ‘I’ve just come out to fetch a journal from the car,’ he said evenly. ‘I’d promised to show it to your father, and I forgot to take it in with me. Now, why don’t you come with me and sit in my car until you’ve calmed down? You can tell me what it’s all about if it would make you feel better.’
Jane struggled to regain control of her breathing. She couldn’t go into the house like this. And she was damned if she’d go anywhere with those wretched Berringtons. But if she tried to march off, one or other of them would try to stop her and she’d end up losing her cool again, and goodness only knew what might be said then. She couldn’t bear the idea of Guy discovering what those awful, stuck-up Berringtons thought of him. It was too insulting to be borne.
‘I…’ She glanced at Rupert and the twins, who had backed away and were looking gratifyingly sheepish. ‘My friends are just going,’ she said stiffly. Then she turned back to Guy and said, ‘Thank you,’ in a small, tight voice, before walking, straight-backed, to his car.
He bleeped the car lock with his remote control so that she could get in, while he stood, arms folded, watching the Berringtons get into the Range Rover and drive off.
The moment she was in Guy’s car her chin began to crumple. She bit hard on her lip. By the time Guy had got in beside her, she was fighting the desire to howl like a baby.
He sat in silence for a few minutes while she sniffed and blinked resolutely. She was damned if she’d break down in front of him. It might have been different if he’d liked her, but as things were she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
‘Do you want to let it out?’ he said softly at last.
She tried to smile, but her mouth went all over the place, so she just shook her head.
He took a neatly ironed white handkerchief out of one pocket and offered it to her. ‘You could try,’ he said gently. .
Again she shook her head, sniffing and swallowing at the same time, and nudging away a couple of renegade tears with one finger.
‘You’ve been very badly hurt,’ he said levelly at last. ‘Haven’t you?’
Jane gave an awkward little shrug. Then she blinked hard and managed a muffled, ‘No.’
‘Disappointed, then?’
She shook her head again. This was dreadful. She could hardly tell him that she’d been defending him… ‘It was nothing,’ she said stoically. ‘I’m just overreacting.’
‘I heard a little of what was said,’ he replied. ‘I don’t think you were over-reacting at all.’
Jane raised one hand to her ear and began rotating the gold ring. ‘Well, I, think I was,’ she muttered defensively. ‘I didn’t like what they said, but I shouldn’t hav
e allowed myself to get so upset by it. I’m being stupid.’
There was a pause. Then Guy said in a steady, unemotional voice, ‘I remember one Christmas when I was just a lad…I didn’t have the usual sort of family Christmases, you see…But this one year—well, I woke up and there was no stocking for me. And I knew it was stupid to mind because I already knew there wasn’t a Santa Claus, but I felt as though I was the only person in the whole world who hadn’t been invited to some big party. It was as if everyone else had been allowed to join in, except me. I think that was the bleakest moment of my life. But I was determined not to let anyone else know how I felt, and so I kept up a brave face. Now, when I look back on that day I see it not as something bad, but as a source of strength. That was the day I learned to rely on myself.’
Jane turned a startled gaze on him. ‘I…um…’ She faltered, not knowing what to say. He was telling her that he could take people like the Berringtons in his stride…that he didn’t need her to defend him. She admired him for putting it so tactfully. ‘I see…’ she said weakly.
He smiled a detatched smile. ‘Now come on in. I’m sure your mother will be able to make the meal stretch to four. You can tell them that you didn’t like the sound of this party and that you wisely, decided not to go. They’ll be delighted.’
Forsaking All Reason Page 4
