May blinked and blew her nose. ‘Thanks. The other thing is, I’m only sixty-five—’ she grimaced ‘—but I’ve always longed to travel. Well, I have, but there’s always been a time limit whereas now I could really indulge one of my pet passions—archaeology—’
‘Do it, May,’ Clare said. ‘Just give me a week. Running a household can’t be much different from running a law practice, surely?’
‘You’re a darling,’ May said with warmth and tears in her eyes again. ‘And don’t you let Serena bother you. She may be the sexiest thing since Cleopatra but I couldn’t help secretly cheering when Lachlan did divorce her.’
May broke her news over lunch and it was plain to see that she’d taken Lachlan supremely by surprise.
‘I’m sure you don’t have to,’ he said slowly, and frowned.
‘I have Clare’s blessing,’ May murmured.
‘Definitely. You were the one who complimented me only yesterday on what an up-and-running, welloiled machine I’d produced,’ Clare said to him with dancing eyes.
‘I know but that was work—’
‘Oh, after a week with May, I’m sure I can translate it to—what do they call it so tweely?—home duties, that’s it.’
He seemed about to say something, then, as Sean looked interested, changed his mind. And he asked May about her plans instead.
It wasn’t until that evening that he got the chance to ask Clare to elaborate.
She was sitting at the dressing table brushing her hair prior to going to bed, but she turned on the stool and told him simply why May wanted to go.
‘I see,’ he said abruptly. Then, ‘I don’t see how you’re going to cope and I’m not sure if she really wants to go.’
‘Lachlan…’
She paused and studied him as he stood with an arm resting on the fireplace mantel. He hadn’t changed although she had her nightgown on with a grey satin robe over it, and she knew instinctively she would be going to bed by herself again. She also knew instinctively that he was not in a good mood and that she was the chief reason for it, although she had so rarely seen him other than even-tempered.
The pressures of married life? she wondered, and raised an eyebrow.
‘What?’ he said coolly.
‘I think you should credit me with some sense, Lachlan,’ she said equally coolly.
‘Well, I think you should remember that you’re nearly five months pregnant, with twins, you want to keep on working and there’s Sean to be taken into consideration.’
‘All right, let’s take it point by point in reverse order,’ she answered crisply. ‘The biggest factor in Sean’s life is you. Now, it may be a little wrench for him to lose May but he’s made a very positive statement to the effect that he can abide me if nothing else so long as he still has the central pivot of Rosemont and you.’
‘Clare—’
‘No, let me finish. And if I can—and I will—tread slowly and carefully so that he feels safe, valued and listened to rather than smothered with false affection, if he’s never made to feel that I’ve come between you, he should be fine.’
‘That may sound all very well in theory, Clare, in fact that’s how it does sound—straight out of some textbook on how to handle stepchildren. It may not always work that way.’
‘Ah, but you’re assuming I resent Sean or he resents me,’ she shot back.
‘Sometimes one isn’t aware of these things.’
‘I know I don’t resent Sean and he will have no reason to resent me. The next point is twins and being five months pregnant. None of that is going to interfere with my mental processes, none of it is going to reduce me to an invalid in the normal course of events. OK, as you took pains to tell me, I might be slow and heavy for a while, but I can get help, it’s as simple as that.’
‘You missed one of my key points, Clare. Work. Not that many weeks ago you were telling me you were so career-orientated, you were sure you’d be better off as a single parent.’
She gasped; she couldn’t believe he could throw that up at her. So much so, she threw her brush down and stood up with her eyes glinting fire. ‘You bastard,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll tell you what happened. I made my bed and now I’m going to lie in it. And I’m going to do it as well as I can and I don’t need May to feel press-ganged into being my crutch!’
They stared at each other until she added, ‘Please feel free to go and do some work but I’m going to bed.’
Still he said nothing, then he straightened and simply walked out.
This time she was still awake when he came to bed, not that much later.
And he pulled her into his arms despite her convulsive stiffening and murmur of protest. ‘Don’t,’ he breathed against her hair. ‘I’m sorry. It’s such a load for you to take on and I know you were worried about it, I guess that’s why I got a shock about May.’
She relaxed slightly but said nothing.
‘Could you see your way clear to humouring me a little, Clare?’
‘Humouring you—what do you mean?’
He reached out and switched one bedside lamp on then stared down at her with his head propped on his hand. ‘Still angry, still so beautiful,’ he said quietly as he ran his hand through her hair then cupped her cheek. ‘Look, Serena set me off base yesterday and now this. I’m sorry but I’d have given anything for you not to have had her particular brand of bitchiness and venom directed squarely at you.’
‘Serena,’ Clare said, and hesitated, ‘used to—the thought of her used to upset me. She has absolutely no power over me now, Lachlan.’
He moved his fingers on her cheek and seemed about to say something then to change his mind. ‘How are they?’
‘Who?’
‘Tweedledum and Tweedledee?’
‘They’re fine. Resting, I believe.’
‘Good. My apologies to them, too. For making you as mad as fire.’
A rueful smile curved Clare’s lips. ‘I don’t honestly think they noticed. You know, I read this incredible survey once, about babies conceived in close proximity to Tokyo Airport. Their mothers lived with the continual noise of jet aircraft flying low overhead.’
‘It didn’t upset them in the womb?’
‘Apparently not because once they were born they were much happier back amongst the jets.’
‘Does that mean—what does that mean?’ he asked with a grin.
‘I’m not sure, it just occurred to me. But perhaps that you don’t need to worry too much about external things affecting them. Although I wouldn’t like to be unhappy too often.’
‘In case you pass on the vibes. Are you unhappy right now, Clare? Have I made you unhappy?’
‘I wasn’t feeling a million quid,’ she conceded.
‘You were also extremely concise and lawyerly—until you mentioned a bed, that is.’
She looked into his eyes then grimaced. ‘That wasn’t my best legalese.’
He bent his head and kissed her on the lips. ‘What I’m wondering now, though—and that’s why I asked if you could humour me—is whether the fact that the bed in question happens also to be my bed has anything going for it at all?’
‘It was a figure of speech at the time—’
‘The way you said it seemed to indicate that it didn’t have anything going for it. Was it just a slip of the tongue in the heat of the moment?’
Clare moved, but not to draw away. ‘To be honest,’ she said thoughtfully, ‘at the time, the last thing I wanted to do was share your bed, Lachlan.’
‘How about now?’
‘If—Do you really want it?’ She bit her lip.
Something flickered in his eyes. ‘Let me show you,’ he murmured, however.
And he started to make exquisitely tender love to her.
‘You’ve won me over,’ she whispered at one stage.
‘I think it’s the opposite, you’ve won this round game, set and match,’ he said unevenly, and buried his head between her breasts.
She was a
wake when he woke the next morning, lying quietly on her side watching him as the curtains filtered the sunlight.
He slept mostly on his back and she saw his eyes open, then he stretched luxuriously and turned to her. ‘Mmm…’ he murmured, and took her in his arms. ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ He nuzzled her neck and stroked her back.
‘Deserve what?’
‘To have a naked, extremely desirable, soft, warm, pliant and gorgeous creature like you in my bed.’
‘I’m only naked because I fell asleep that way.’ She looked at him severely. ‘After you’d had your way with me—Don’t,’ she said on a little gasp as he plucked her nipple gently between his teeth.
‘Sorry—sore?’ he queried, looking into her eyes.
‘I…not really, just…’ She stopped and wondered how to explain that it was almost too much pleasure he was inflicting on her.
But he said, ‘Never mind, I shall desist, but only because I have to be up, dressed and fed in approximately two minutes and twelve seconds.’
‘How can you know that?’
‘Are you saying you don’t want me to desist?’ he enquired with little points of laughter in the smoky grey of his eyes.
‘No. I mean…what I was thinking was that you hadn’t even looked at your watch!’
‘I know exactly what the time is due to the quality of the sunlight,’ he said seriously. ‘However, if that was not the only thought on your mind, my foreman, who I had arranged to meet in one minute and fifty-seven seconds now, could quite easily start without me.’
‘I don’t know about that. I think you should set a good example of punctuality towards your staff otherwise they may be tempted to copy your slack ways.’
‘Are you lecturing me, Clare?’
‘Definitely—not. I wouldn’t dream of it,’ she replied demurely.
‘All the same you are. Unless you just don’t feel like letting me have my way with you again? Because you haven’t entirely forgiven me?’
Clare took a little breath then smiled suddenly. ‘I hadn’t entirely forgiven you last night, yet—look what happened to me.’
‘Didn’t you enjoy it?’
‘I … loved every minute of it, as you very well know, but I wasn’t really expecting to.’ Her gaze softened and she reached out to touch his hair.
‘Then I think we could afford a repeat performance. I’d be useless anyway with the thought of it on my mind—’ He stopped as the phone on the bedside table rang, and swore.
When he put it down, Clare was laughing.
‘See—you didn’t believe me, did you?’ he said wryly.
‘No, I didn’t. He wants to know if he should start without you, I gather?’
‘Well, he would have but he can’t get the picker started. Still—’
It was a light tap on the door this time that interrupted him. And Sean’s voice imparting the news that his football required blowing up, it was the first day of footy practice at school therefore most important that his ball was operational, and had they forgotten it was a school day anyway?
‘I’m coming,’ Lachlan called resignedly. ‘Bloody hell,’ he added, and hugged Clare. ‘I’m jinxed, destined to have a thoroughly uncomfortable day and all you can do is laugh!’
‘I know, and you’re very sweet,’ Clare said, still laughing.
‘Sweet?’ He raised a pained eyebrow at her.
‘Yes,’ she insisted, and kissed him. ‘Go and sort everything out. I make no promises but if you are dreadfully uncomfortable, well, you’ve got me into the habit of having a nap after lunch, which is before school comes out and when the rest of the world generally takes a break. So.’
‘I never realized that one day I would treasure a simple little word and carry it with me like a beacon through the morning. So…’ he said lingeringly. ‘A name I’d never have thought of for it.’
‘Do you always wake up as playful as this?’
‘Only when I’m not sure of my welcome,’ he said ruefully, and made no move to get up.
Clare sighed theatrically. ‘You’re forgiven.’
‘I knew I could make you say it.’ His eyes teased her, but before she could take issue he did get up. ‘Stay there, I’ll bring you some tea and toast You’ll find,’ he said over his shoulder just before he disappeared into the shower, ‘that you won’t have any complaints about how caring a husband I am, as well as, of course, sexy.’
Clare drank her tea and ate her toast and marmalade in a somewhat bemused state. Because she couldn’t identify what had made him change so completely from the cold and annoyed man of the night before.
Was it something she’d done? Or hadn’t done, she mused. He hadn’t appeared to like any of her arguments at the time.
But nothing presented itself and presently she got up and got dressed.
She only went into work a couple of times in the next week. Together with May, she went over the homestead and learnt all its secrets including some unlikely things such as how to handle the water tanks. Because they were not connected to town water, they had to rely on rainwater for the house and creek water for the garden.
‘There’s nothing worse than running out of water and having to get a man to switch tanks for you,’ May said as she explained the system.
‘Do we often run out of water?’
‘Very rarely, it’s a huge roof area and the annual rainfall is good, but it’s handy to know. It’s also somehow become the house responsibility to keep the filters clean, although that’s something you won’t want to be doing yourself before long. See?’
Both tanks were underground and the business end of them covered with shrubbery as a disguise. ‘Just watch out for spiders and snakes,’ May added.
Clare swallowed.
‘Not that we see many—snakes, I mean. Paddy and Flynn are very good at killing them.’
‘I’m so pleased to hear that!’
May smiled at her. ‘Come inside—you’ll soon get used to the little pinpricks of country life. Frogs in your wellies, cane toads, flying foxes, rabbits—we even get the odd fox—but the bird life is wonderful.’
Clare was much happier to be taught about the house itself and its routine. And over the days she learnt a lot. Who to call if the chimneys smoked, where to get the best firewood, which electrician, plumber and so on Rosemont used in case of any problems. That the first of the month was when Paddy and Flynn got their heart worm and other worm tablets, how often their flea and tick collars needed replacing, how they needed to be brushed every day which was Sean’s job.
She learnt how moths were kept at bay in the extensive linen press and how dried, crushed bay leaves were a deterrent to other creepy crawlies.
But it was the inventory of furniture, china and objets d’art that fascinated her.
‘This Coalport dinner service came out with my grandmother—my grandfather sent for her after he’d been here for five years, would you believe? They weren’t married but she waited for him. She also brought out these marvellous old copper warming pans and fire screens and the grandfather clock. This Persian rug they picked up when they travelled through the Middle East. But my father was mostly responsible for how the house looks today. He was a great collector of antiques.’
‘So—Serena didn’t have anything to do with it?’
May grimaced. ‘She often said she’d like to remodel the inside and go more modern. Lachlan wouldn’t let her.’
‘What…?’ Clare paused and frowned then she said, ‘Sorry, but I can’t help myself—what did he see in her?’
May chewed her lip. ‘I often asked myself that, but I always reminded myself that I liked her a lot at first. She was…she can be so good with people, she can be very funny and, believe it or not, she can be very warm. So, despite the obvious—her sheer beauty—she didn’t seem like a bad choice at first.’
‘How long did it take for things to go wrong?’
May sighed. ‘She loathed being pregnant, not that she had a bad time
but it obviously cramped her style. Then—I’m sure she loves Sean in her way, but she was quite helpless with him. Lachlan handled him better than she did.’
‘Lachlan is a walking encyclopaedia on the joys and otherwise—especially the otherwise—of pregnancy,’ Clare said somewhat darkly.
‘I’m not surprised. She never let even the mildest of discomforts escape his notice. You know what I, personally, found most disturbing about Serena? It was almost as if she’d made a career—of men.’
Clare blinked.
‘Well, she had nothing else to sustain her,’ May explained. ‘When she wasn’t alluring to them or able to twist them around her little finger, she was disconsolate and unable to turn to anything else or take pleasure in anything else. Her appearance and the effect she had on men was paramount—but then she was a top model.’ She shrugged.
‘I see,’ Clare said slowly.
‘Mind you, I don’t think Bruce Davidson is going to be a walkover!’
‘Funny you should say that, because I had the same feeling—Was that someone at the front door?’
They walked down the main passage together to discover a delivery man on the veranda. Next to him was a large box.
‘Uh…’ He glanced down at the clipboard in his hand then nervously towards Paddy and Flynn, who might have let him out of his car but were sitting like stern sentinels on either side of the front door. ‘Does a Mr Sean Hewitt live here?’
‘Well, a Sean Hewitt does live here. What is it?’ May enquired.
‘Special delivery from Sydney—I need his signature.’
‘He’s only eight and he’s at school. Who’s it from?’
‘Uh…a B. Davidson, it says here. I guess you can sign for him.’
‘It’s a telescope!’ Clare said, scanning the diagram on the side of the box.
‘Sure is.’ The delivery man scratched his head. ‘And a fine one, too, I’d say, I’d hate to tell you what it’s insured for on this trip—you sure he’s only eight?’
‘I wonder if Lachlan will let him accept it?’ May mused a bit anxiously once the delivery man had left
‘Depends on who gets to it first,’ Clare responded with a grin. ‘I don’t think Sean would give it up without a fight. You know—that was rather clever.’ And she told May what Bruce had said to her on the subject of Sean.
Having His Babies (Harlequin Presents) Page 11
