He brought her the drink. She caught the faint whiff of soap and cologne. He was freshly shaved, his hair well brushed, his nails newly manicured. Paula bit back a smile, remembering how his habit of looking at himself whenever he passed a mirror had driven her grandmother crazy. Emma had even threatened to have all of the mirrors removed from Heron’s Nest if he did not curb his vanity. He had been eighteen that particular year and very conscious of his astonishing looks, his husky, athletic build. She suspected he was still most aware of his physical appeal, although he no longer gazed at himself in mirrors. At least, not publicly. Perhaps he had learned to accept his striking appearance. She turned to the fire to hide another smile. He was vain, even a little conceited about some of his attributes and accomplishments, and so very sure of himself. Yet there was an inherent sweetness in him, a gentleness, and he was loving to the core with friends and family, and so very kind. How well she knew Shane Desmond Ingham O’Neill.
Shane, pouring himself a scotch and soda, called across to her, ‘Don’t be surprised if Sonny brings his guitar. He usually does. I may accompany him on the piano – give everyone a treat. We might even have a sing song later.’
‘Oh God, shades of The Herons!’ Paula laughed. ‘You really did stink, you know.’
‘On the contrary, I think we were rather good,’ he retorted, also laughing. He joined her. ‘You and the girls were jealous because we stole the show that summer, were the centre of attraction. And you were envious of our smashing rig-outs. I’m surprised you didn’t start a girls’ band just to compete with us.’
She laughed again. He touched his glass to hers.
Paula stared up at him towering above her, feeling dwarfed by his six feet four inches, and suddenly weak, defenceless and decidedly female. There definitely was something irresistible about him. The weird feelings he had aroused in her last night began to stir. Her skin tingled. Her heart missed a beat.
Their eyes held.
Paula wanted to look away but his dark and piercing gaze was hypnotic.
Shane broke the contact, swiftly turning, making a show of searching for his cigarettes as he stifled the urge to kiss her. You must be careful, he told himself. He wondered if he had been wrong inviting her for the weekend. He knew he was skating on thin ice. I won’t see her again while she’s in the States. Inwardly he laughed. He knew he would.
A series of cheery hellos rang out. To his immense relief Sonny and Elaine walked in.
Shane hurried across the room to greet them, a huge grin surfacing. He was glad he had invited them. His tension eased.
After propping the guitar case against a chair, Sonny grasped his hand, embraced him, said, ‘Cognac…for after dinner.’ He handed Shane a bottle wrapped in fancy paper.
Elaine thrust a basket at him. ‘And here’s some of my freshly baked bread for your breakfast,’ she exclaimed as Shane bent to kiss her cheek.
Shane thanked them, put the gifts on a chest, and brought the Vickers over to be introduced to Paula.
The minute she met them, Paula knew she was going to like the couple. Sonny was tall, lean and fair, with a blond beard and merry brown eyes. Elaine, softly pretty and feminine, was one of those women whose genuine sweetness is instantly recognizable. She had an open, friendly face, and her eyes were vividly blue, her short, curly hair prematurely silver.
The three of them sat down, and Shane went to make drinks for the new arrivals. Paula was glad she had chosen the caftan, even though Shane had told her to dress casually. Elaine was wearing black velvet trousers with a Chinese jacket of blue brocade and looked elegant in an understated way.
Smiling at her, Elaine said, ‘Shane told us you’re Emma Harte’s granddaughter, and that you run her business now. I’m crazy about your London store. I can spend all day there –’
‘She’s not kidding either,’ Sonny interrupted, grinning at Paula. ‘My wife and your store are going to bankrupt me one day.’
‘Oh don’t pay any attention to my husband, he’s the one who’s kidding,’ Elaine said, and continued to rave about Harte’s in Knightsbridge.
But when Shane came back with glasses of wine for Sonny and Elaine, the conversation turned to country matters and local gossip. Paula leaned back in her chair, listening quietly, sipping her drink. As the talk ebbed and flowed between Shane and his friends, she soon became aware of his liking for them, recognized how relaxed he was in their company. But then, so was she. They were easy to be with – warm, outgoing, very real and down-to-earth people. Sonny’s wit was as quick as Shane’s, although not quite as brilliant and astringent, and the two men were soon bouncing funny lines back and forth. There was a great deal of laughter and jollity in the air, and a festive mood prevailed.
After the first half-hour, Paula felt as though she had known this engaging couple for years. Individually each of them drew her out, encouraged her to talk about her work, the stores, and both of them were particularly interested in hearing about her famous grandmother. And she, who was generally reserved with strangers, found herself chatting away. She and Sonny discussed music and his composing, and Paula discovered that he had written several Broadway musicals as well as the background music for numerous Hollywood films. Elaine, in turn, talked about her writing career and her books. And she did so in a manner that was not only informative but amusing, especially when she recounted funny incidents which had happened to her when she was on promotion tours. She told a good story, and entertainingly so, and there was a great deal of laughter and bonhomie among the four of them.
Occasionally Paula stole surreptitious glances at Shane. He was a wonderful host, constantly up and down, taking care of the drinks, changing the records on the stereo, throwing logs on the fire, and steering the conversation around to different subjects, involving them with each other. And he was obviously delighted with the way the Vickers had warmed to her. He kept smiling across at her, nodding as if in approval, and twice when he passed her chair to do a small chore he squeezed her shoulder affectionately.
Paula had been out to check on the food once, and the second time she rose, Elaine also stood up.
‘I’m letting you do all the work,’ Elaine said, ‘and that’s not fair. I’m coming to help you.’
‘Things are under control,’ Paula protested.
‘No, no, I insist.’ Elaine followed Paula out to the kitchen, and as she came through the doorway, she exclaimed, ‘Everything smells so delicious – my mouth’s beginning to water. Now, what can I do?’
‘Nothing really.’ Paula smiled at her, bent down and took the meat out of the oven, placed it on to a platter. ‘Well, there is one thing. Could you cover this with silver foil, please?’
‘Consider it done,’ Elaine said, tearing off a large piece of the silver paper, tucking it around the leg of lamb. She stood watching Paula, and after a moment, she said, ‘It’s a lovely evening. I’m so glad you’re here. And you certainly cheer Shane up.’
‘Do I really?’ Paula swung to face Elaine, gave her a curious puzzled look. ‘You make it sound as if he’s been down in the dumps.’
‘We think he has. Sonny and I worry about him a lot. He’s so nice, generous, very engaging, and pleasant and charming. Still…’ She shrugged. ‘To be truthful, he’s always up here alone, never brings…friends, and there are times when he seems despondent, melancholy.’ She shrugged again. ‘Of course England is a long way off and
‘Yes, I do think he gets a bit homesick,’ Paula volunteered, pivoting, turning her attention to the oven again.
Elaine stared at Paula’s back, her brow puckering. ‘Oh but I didn’t mean it that way –’ She stopped abruptly as Shane walked in, swinging the corkscrew in one hand.
He said, ‘I think I’d better open the wine, let it breathe for a while.’ He proceeded to do so, remarking to Paula, ‘I suppose the meat has to stand and bleed for fifteen minutes or so, before I carve it. Well, I might as well hang around, keep you company.’
Elaine slipped out quiet
ly, leaving them alone.
‘It was a wonderful dinner,’ Elaine said, putting down her dessert fork and spoon, looking across the table at Paula. ‘And I’d love to have the recipe for this trifle. It was yummy.’
‘And the recipe for the Yorkshire pudding,’ Sonny suggested. He flashed his wife a sly but loving grin, added, ‘And I know Elaine won’t take offence when I tell you that her puddings come out like great lumps of soggy dough.’
Everyone laughed.
Paula said, ‘I’ll write them out for you tomorrow.’ A smile of pleasure tugged at her mouth. ‘You’re both very good for my ego. I’ve never had so many compliments about my cooking.’
‘That’s not true,’ Shane exclaimed. ‘I’ve been giving you praise for years. You never pay attention to anything I say, that’s your trouble,’ he groused, but there was laughter on his face.
‘Oh yes I do,’ Paula shot back. ‘And I always have.’
Chuckling, Shane pushed back his chair. ‘I’d better retreat to the kitchen, make the coffee.’
‘I’ll assist you,’ Sonny said, springing up, walking out after him.
Elaine sat back in the chair, studying Paula. How arresting and unusual her looks were. She wondered how old she was. Earlier, Elaine had decided she must be in her late twenties, perhaps even thirty. But now, in the soft candlelight, Paula looked much younger than that; her face held the vulnerability of a little girl’s, and she was most appealing. Conscious she was staring rudely, Elaine said, ‘You’re a beautiful woman, Paula, and so very accomplished. No wonder he’s miserable most of the time.’
Paula instantly stiffened, put down her glass unsteadily. ‘I’m afraid I’m not following you.’
Elaine blurted out, ‘Shane…he’s crazy about you! It’s written all over his face, and reflected in everything he says. What a pity you’re so far away in England. That’s what I was getting at earlier – when we were in the kitchen.’
Paula was stunned. She managed, ‘Oh but Elaine, we’re just old friends, childhood friends.’
For a split second Elaine thought Paula was joking, continuing the banter which had punctuated the good talk during dinner. Then she saw the horrified expression on Paula’s face. ‘Oh my God, I’ve said the wrong thing obviously. I’m so sorry. I just assumed you and Shane were having…’ Her voice trailed off miserably.
Paula pushed back her sense of dismay. ‘Please don’t look so stricken, Elaine. It’s all right, really it is. I understand. You’ve simply mistaken Shane’s brotherly affection for me, read it to mean something else, something entirely different. Anybody could make that error.’
There was an awkward silence as the two women regarded each other. Both were at a loss for words.
Elaine cleared her throat. ‘Now I’ve gone and spoiled a lovely evening…me and my big mouth.’ Her expression was chagrined, apologetic. ‘Sonny says my mouth’s always open and my foot’s always in it. He’s right.’
Wanting to make her feel comfortable, Paula murmured softly, ‘Oh please, Elaine, don’t be embarrassed. I’m not. I like you, and I do want us to be friends. And look here, why wouldn’t you jump to conclusions. After all, I am staying here with him, living under the same roof, and we are rather free and easy with each other. But then we grew up together, and we’ve been around each other all of our lives. There’s a certain kind of naturalness between us, and it could easily be misinterpreted. But our relationship is not what you think.’ Paula attempted a laugh, glanced down at her hands. ‘I’ve just realized I’m not wearing my rings tonight, and we haven’t discussed my personal life, so you couldn’t possibly know that I’m married.’
‘Oh well, then that explains everything!’ Elaine cried, immediately flushing. She shook her head. ‘There I go again…forgive me, Paula, my apologies. I’m saying all the wrong things tonight. I’ve probably had far too much to drink.’
Paula summoned another light, dismissive laugh. ‘I think we ought to talk about something else, don’t you? Shane and Sonny will be back at any moment.’
‘Agreed. And please don’t say anything to Shane…about what I assumed. He’ll think I’m a real busy body.’
‘Of course I won’t say anything,’ Paula reassured her. She rose. ‘Let’s go and sit by the fire.’
As the two of them walked across the floor, Paula slipped her arm through Elaine’s companionably, said in a low voice, ‘Try not to look so upset, so worried. Shane’ll spot that straight away. He’s very intuitive. It’s the Celt in him, I suppose. When I was little I actually believed he could read my mind…he was always second guessing me in the most maddening way.’
Elaine merely smiled at this remark as she lowered herself into a chair. Although she had recovered some of her composure, she was cursing herself under her breath. How stupid she had been to presume they were having an affair. But who wouldn’t think that…there was an intimacy between them, a kind of bonding, and Shane devoured Paula with his eyes, hung on to her every word. It was transparent that he was in love with her, no matter what Paula believed. And who’s she kidding? Only herself. Well, self-delusion is a very human trait, Elaine thought, and stole a look at Paula, who sat in the chair opposite. Whether she knows it or not, she adores him. And not just as an old friend would…it’s much more than that, more complex and it runs deeper. Still, perhaps she hasn’t realized the extent of her feelings for him. And I ought not to have said anything. Elaine chastised herself again.
But a few seconds later, when Shane brought the tray of coffee to the fireplace, Elaine saw Paula’s eyes instantly fly to his face, detected curiosity and a new and avid interest glittering in them. Elaine thought: Who knows, maybe I wasn’t so foolish…maybe I’ve done them both a big favour by speaking out of turn.
Shane served the coffee. Sonny poured cognac, and ten minutes later he fetched his guitar and began to play. He was a classical guitarist and immensely talented, and the others sat back, captivated by his playing and his music, entranced by the magic he created for them.
Paula was only half listening. She was thankful not to have to make conversation. Her mind was in a turmoil. Elaine had stunned her, and much more than she had permitted the other woman to see. But the shock was receding and she tried to sort out her troubled thoughts.
She was positive that Elaine had simply misunderstood Shane’s attitude, his behaviour towards her. On the other hand, what if Elaine was correct? Elaine had asserted that her marriage explained everything – meaning, of course, that it explained Shane’s unhappiness, which they had apparently detected. Paula suddenly remembered the incomplete thought she had had that afternoon when she had been dozing on the sofa. She had been dwelling on the past few days, thinking that Shane was his old self, the way he was before her marriage. Something had clicked in her head, but then she had fallen asleep. Now that thought became whole, fully formed. Shane had changed, had dropped her, the moment her engagement to Jim had been announced. Why? Because he was jealous. That was the obvious explanation. How stupid she had been not to recognize this before tonight. But why hadn’t Shane made it clear to her that he cared for her? When she was still free. Perhaps he had not understood that…until it was too late. It all made sense suddenly.
Paula leaned back in the chair, shattered by her conclusions. She closed her eyes, letting the music lap over her. She thought of Shane. He sat only a few feet away from her. What were his thoughts and emotions at this moment? Was he really in love with her? Crazy about her, so Elaine had said. Paula’s heart clenched. And what about me? How do I feel about Shane? Am I unconsciously responding to vibrations emanating from him? Or am I in love with him?…Have I always been in love with him without knowing it? She tried to examine her innermost emotions, take stock of her feelings. She floundered.
They left at eleven forty-five.
Shane saw them out.
She knew what she was going to do.
Rising, she walked over to the chest, retrieved the bottle of cognac, carried it back to the fir
eside. She refilled their brandy balloons, placed the bottle in the centre of the coffee table, threw a couple of logs on to the fire.
Then she sat down on the sofa to wait for him.
A few minutes later she heard his step, glanced around as he came in. She smiled across the room at him.
Shane faltered, surprised to see her sitting there, holding another drink. He frowned. ‘Are you planning to stay up all night? I would’ve thought you’d be half dead by now. It’s been a long day, you worked so hard in the kitchen. Shouldn’t we go –’
‘I just got a second wind!’ she cried, cutting him off before he suggested they go to sleep. ‘I’m having a nightcap. I’ve poured one for you. Aren’t you going to join me?’ When he did not reply she laughed gaily. ‘Oh don’t be such an old spoil sport, Shane.’
He hesitated fractionally. He was afraid of being alone with her. He had been much too aware of her this evening. His desire for her had flared time and time again. His emotions were near the surface. He had sunk a lot of booze. He suddenly wasn’t sure whether he could trust himself with her. This thought instantly annoyed him. He wasn’t a callow youth, out on his first date, itching to make a conquest. He was a grown man. And he was with the girl he had known all his life. Yes, he loved her. But she trusted him. He was a gentleman. And he could handle himself. Still, I ought to put an end to the evening now, he thought. He said, ‘Well, just one for the road. I’d planned for us to go riding tomorrow morning – bright and early.’
He strolled over to the fireplace, striving to appear off-hand. He reached for the drink she had poured, stepped away from the coffee table, planning to sit in the chair next to the hearth.
Paula patted the sofa. ‘No, sit here, Shane, next to me. I want to talk to you.’
He tensed, looked at her alertly, searching her face. Her expression was neutral, placid even. It baffled him. She was usually much more animated. ‘Okay.’ He sat as far away from her as possible, squashed himself in the opposite corner of the sofa.
Hold the Dream Page 55
