It had been quite bemusing watching the fastidious Max as he’d moved around the far-from-clean henhouse collecting the eggs for her, after declaring that he had every intention of being a help rather than a nuisance while he was staying here.
But all thought of amusement had faded when March had called him into the farmhouse to take the telephone call, May wondering exactly what Jude was calling the other man about, as taut as wire by the time Max rejoined her.
She glanced up at him now, noting the slight frown between his eyes. ‘Everything all right?’ Once again she kept her tone deliberately light.
‘Fine,’ he confirmed ruefully. ‘Jude has to go away for a few days, that’s all,’ he added dismissively.
Had to? Or had Jude simply decided to do so?
May’s heart had skipped a beat at the news, although she wasn’t sure whether it was from relief or despair. After last night, half of her wished she never had to see Jude ever again, and the other half longed to do so. Because she loved him with all her being!
She curled up inside every time she thought of being in Jude’s arms the previous evening, of the intimacies they had shared; how could they possibly face each other again without remembering that intimacy?
They couldn’t, was the obvious answer, and maybe these few days’ reprieve were exactly what she needed to face that moment if—when—it came. The fact that Jude had removed himself from the area pointed to the fact that he wasn’t too eager for the confrontation, either!
But, unfortunately, it also meant there was no possibility of him taking up her offer of selling the farm to him immediately…
Which, the awkwardness with Jude apart, left her with the same problem as yesterday: how did she avoid April Robine coming here and introducing herself to January and March?
‘Er—’ she gave Max a bright, meaningless smile ‘—is Jude going away on his own, or is Miss Robine accompanying him?’ If April were going, too, then that would solve that problem for a day or so, too.
Max gave her a searching look, May returning that look—she hoped—with smiling indifference.
May had come to know Max quite well over the last few weeks, knew he was a man of deep reserve, that aloofness no shield for his undoubted intelligence.
Although, January had confided in her yesterday, Max seemed to be making some effort to actually contact his own estranged mother, with a view to at least removing the strained relationship that had existed between them since his mother’s desertion of her husband and son when Max was still only a child.
May hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry yesterday when January had sat and told her all this as the two of them had enjoyed a cup of coffee together, the situation so like the one that May now found herself in with their own mother.
Although, for obvious reasons, she hadn’t been able to tell January any of that…
‘I didn’t ask,’ Max finally answered her. ‘Is it important?’ he added softly.
‘Of course not,’ May dismissed briskly—a little too brisk, she realised as Max gave a troubled frown. ‘January wasn’t breaking any confidences, but she mentioned to me yesterday that you are trying to contact your mother, that you may be inviting her to the wedding?’ She deliberately made an abrupt change of subject.
Max’s brow instantly cleared. ‘I’m thinking of it,’ he confirmed dryly. ‘Meeting January, falling in love with her, being loved in return, has changed my outlook on things somewhat,’ he acknowledged ruefully.
‘I would think it might.’ May smiled warmly.
He nodded. ‘I’ve come to realise that not everything is as black and white as I always liked to think it was, that what happened over thirty years ago, seen through the eyes of a young child, didn’t necessarily happen the way I remember it,’ he added self-derisively.
May gave him a frustrated look; nothing Max had said so far, about his own mother’s desertion, was helping with the situation she now found herself in with April. Was it really that easy? she wondered. Was it possible to forgive, if not forget, the childhood abandonment by one’s parent?
‘What is it, May?’ Max prompted concernedly. ‘You’ve been very—preoccupied, since we all came back,’ he explained at her questioning look. ‘Not your normal self at all.’
May gave him an inquisitive look. ‘And just what is my “normal” self?’ she said ruefully.
He shrugged. ‘Calm. Decisive. Level-headed. Able to see a situation clearly where others sometimes can’t,’ he added, obviously referring to his own inability a few weeks ago to recognise his true feelings for January.
And, like Max, May knew she was no longer any of the things he had described her as being.
Because of Jude. Because of April Robine. Just because of this whole awful, complicated situation.
‘Jude mentioned to me that you have offered to sell the farm to him, after all,’ Max continued evenly.
May could feel the guilty colour heighten in her cheeks. Of course there was no reason why Jude shouldn’t have mentioned the offer to Max; he was still the other man’s lawyer, after all. It was just… ‘Then he shouldn’t have done,’ she snapped. ‘I haven’t had chance to discuss it with January and March yet—’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Max shook his head dismissively. ‘May, Jude isn’t going to accept the offer.’
She became very still, her expression puzzled now. ‘He isn’t?’
‘No,’ Max confirmed wryly.
‘Why isn’t he?’ she demanded frustratedly. ‘It was what he wanted. What he came here for. What on earth—?’
‘The reason he telephoned me just now was to ask me while he’s away to submit Will’s second set of plans, the ones excluding this farm, to the local planning committee,’ Max informed her quietly.
May was well aware of the fact that Will, as Jude’s architect, had drawn up two sets of plans for the proposed health and country club he intended building on the neighbouring Hanworth Estate, also knew that one of those sets of plans included this farm, and that the other one didn’t. The question was, why was Jude choosing to submit the latter?
She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Actually—’ Max gave a rueful smile ‘—neither do I.’
May burst out laughing at this blunt admission from a man who, as a lawyer, was often carefully ambiguous in his own statements. ‘Well, that’s honest, I suppose,’ she conceded. ‘Although it doesn’t help me, does it?’ she added frowningly.
‘Not if you’re really serious about selling, no.’ Max grimaced. ‘You can be sure that January and March will agree to anything you decide to do about the farm,’ he assured lightly. ‘After all, it’s you it affects the most.’
Yes, it was, and in the circumstances she had decided the best thing to do was sell. The problem with that appeared to be that Jude no longer wanted to buy.
She frowned darkly, quickly coming to a decision. ‘Max, has Jude already gone? Or is he still at the hotel?’
Max looked momentarily stunned by the question, and then he gave a rueful shrug. ‘I don’t think he was calling from his mobile, so I presume he must still be at the hotel— May, where are you going?’ he called as she spun on her heel and walked quickly towards the door of the shed where they had been working.
She glanced back at him briefly. ‘To the hotel, of course.’
‘But—’
‘Max—’ she turned back impatiently ‘—did Jude tell you when he would be coming back?’
‘No,’ Max answered slowly.
She nodded. ‘Then there’s no telling when that will be, is there? In which case, I intend talking to him before he leaves.’ Jude might have time to waste, but she certainly didn’t.
‘Do you want me to come with you?’ Max offered softly.
May became very still. She would like nothing better than the moral support, at least, of the company of this self-assured man who was in love with her youngest sister. But at the same time she appreciated that each time she and
Jude had spoken together the last couple of days their conversation had always returned to the subject of her connection to April Robine—and that was something May did not intend discussing in front of Max.
She gave him a grateful smile. ‘It’s good of you to offer, but no, thanks. I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own,’ she assured with a lot more confidence than she actually felt.
Max didn’t look in the least reassured by her words, either, frowning darkly. ‘Are you sure? Jude sounded—a little terse, this morning,’ he warned ruefully.
At the moment, sensitive as May was to her own love for him, a terse Jude Marshall would be preferable to the seductive one of last night. ‘I’m sure.’ She nodded confidently. ‘If you wouldn’t mind continuing to collect the eggs for me…?’ she added teasingly.
‘Not at all.’ Max returned her smile. ‘This last couple of days have been a complete leveller for me; I had no idea how hard farmers have to work.’ He grimaced.
May gave an appreciative laugh as she let herself out of the shed, although her smile faded to a look of grim determination as she made her way quickly to her car.
If she gave herself too much time to think then the mountain might just change its mind about going to Mohammed!
Jude came to an abrupt halt as he stepped out of the lift, completely unprepared for the sight of May, having spotted him alighting from the lift, striding confidently towards him across the reception area of the hotel.
Despite the earliness of the hour, several other heads turned to look in her direction as she walked towards him, including that of the wide-eyed receptionist. Not surprising, really—May looked as if she had come here straight from the farmyard, her coat old and mud-stained, with disreputable jeans tucked into muddy wellington boots, and the latter were making a terrible mess of the pristine whiteness of the hotel floor tiles.
The situation might have been funny at any other time, but, still raw from their encounter the previous evening, Jude wasn’t in the least pleased to see May here, muddy boots or not.
He hadn’t slept at all the previous night, had paced the hotel suite for hours as he’d tried to come to some sort of inner acceptance of what had happened between himself and May, to clarify and then dismiss it as just a situation that had got completely out of hand. He had tried to do that…
By the time daylight had appeared through the windows Jude had known he was no further towards doing that than he had been the previous evening, deciding that he had to follow his initial reaction—and that was to get himself away from May, from this situation, and hope that he would be able to make sense of it then.
Seeing May again before he left had not been part of his plans.
He scowled down at her as she came to an abrupt halt in front of him, eyes deeply green against the whiteness of her face. Eyes the same deep green as April’s…
His mouth tightened as he remembered May’s complete implacability over that situation. ‘What do you want?’ he rasped unwelcomingly, gaze narrowing ominously as she seemed to flinch at his words. ‘You’re making a hell of a mess of the floor,’ he added disgustedly.
May blinked, instantly looking down, eyes widening self-consciously as she seemed to realise for the first time that she was wearing muddy boots. ‘Never mind.’ Her chin rose challengingly as she looked back at him. ‘I’m sure they’ll add the cost of cleaning it to your bill.’
Despite himself, Jude felt his mouth twitch with amusement; not too much bothered this woman, did it? ‘I’m sure they will,’ he acknowledged dryly. ‘So, what can I do for you, May?’ he prompted wearily.
‘Max told me you’ve asked him to submit the final architect plans that don’t include the farm,’ she told him bluntly.
Jude drew in a sharp breath. Damn Max for doing that. Jude had thought he would be long gone by the time May discovered what he had done. But at least now he knew the reason that May had turned up here so suddenly…
Not that he had thought for one moment that it was a change of heart on her part—
Hadn’t he?
Hadn’t some part of him begun to hope that perhaps she felt more towards him than physical attraction? And even if she did, what then? Jude deliberately shied away from that thought. She hadn’t realised anything like that. Her only interest in him was still the farm.
His mouth thinned. ‘Then he had no right to tell you—’
‘You told him first of my offer to sell the farm,’ May defended heatedly.
They could go on like this all morning, Jude realised heavily; to his knowledge, May had never backed down from an argument yet.
‘So?’ He was deliberately obstructive; this woman had caused him nothing but grief since he had first met her, and his previous night of no sleep hadn’t helped his mood one little bit.
Her cheeks flushed angrily. ‘So I had told you I would sell it to you,’ she reminded tautly.
‘Immediately.’ He nodded uninterestedly.
‘Well?’ May demanded impatiently.
‘I seem to remember that I told you I am no longer interested in buying it,’ Jude replied calmly.
Her eyes sparked deeply green. ‘You’re just being bloody-minded now.’
He raised dark brows. ‘I am?’
‘Yes, you are,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t—’
‘May, could we go and sit down somewhere?’ he interrupted dryly. ‘We’re attracting a certain amount of attention standing here,’ he explained as she frowned her irritation with the suggestion. Not that it particularly bothered him who was watching them, but he had a feeling, with hindsight, that May just might.
She glanced around them impatiently, affording the receptionist a less than friendly scowl as the other woman ogled them unashamedly, obviously fascinated by the stark contrast they made, Jude dressed in a business suit, shirt and tie, May looking more like a tramp who had walked in off the street in the hope of being given a warming cup of coffee by some charitable guest.
May turned back to him impatiently. ‘I really don’t give a damn what they think—’
‘But I do.’ Jude clasped her arm, turning her firmly in the direction of the deserted lounge just to the left of where they stood. ‘Sit,’ he instructed as she made no effort to do so.
‘I’ll make the seats all dirty, too,’ she answered dismissively. ‘Jude, you’re just being difficult because I—’
‘No doubt they will put that on my bill, too,’ he rasped. ‘I said sit, May,’ he bit out through gritted teeth as she stood facing him. ‘And think very carefully before you continue that previous statement,’ he added grimly as she sank reluctantly into one of the armchairs.
‘Because I refuse to listen to you concerning April…’ she finished with obvious puzzlement for his grim attitude.
Ah, April…
Jude gave an inner wince for the mistake he had almost made. Of course May hadn’t been going to refer to her dismissal last night of the intimacies they had shared…
‘I think you’re being unreasonable about that, yes.’ He nodded confirmation as he sat down opposite her. ‘But it in no way affects my decision concerning the farm,’ he added hardly as she would have spoken. ‘I don’t work that way, May.’
‘No?’ she came back challengingly. ‘It seems to me that you do.’ She didn’t wait for him to answer. ‘Your sole purpose in coming here was to purchase the farm, and now that it’s been offered to you you say you don’t want it!’ She shook her head. ‘That doesn’t make any sense to me. Unless—’
‘I said I don’t work that way, May,’ he bit out grimly.
‘But you wanted the farm so badly a month ago,’ she reminded exasperatedly.
So badly he had sent Max here for the sole purpose of purchasing it, no matter what the cost. And instead of acquiring the farm for him Max had ended up falling in love with the youngest Calendar sister. And then Will had arrived to draw up the plans for the proposed health and country club, only to fall in love with the middle Calendar sister. And so he had finally
come here himself to see what on earth was going on. Only to—
‘And now I don’t,’ he rasped, knowing that in future he wanted as little to do with May Calendar as possible. ‘Look, May—what the hell—?’ Jude broke off his involuntary exclamation to stare dazedly across the reception area.
As if his thinking of them had conjured them into being, he could now see Max and Will, January and March entering the hotel, all of them looking as disreputable as May in the clothes they had obviously been wearing this morning to work on the farm.
‘Is this some sort of delegation?’ Jude turned to challenge May impatiently even as he stood up slowly.
But one look at May’s face, the colour slowly draining from it, was enough to show him that the arrival at the hotel of her two sisters, at least, was the very last thing she wanted.
And Jude knew exactly why that was…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
WHAT on earth were they doing here?
The next question, following on quickly from the first, was what was she going to do? April Robine was still somewhere in this hotel, could come into the reception area at any moment…
May turned frantically to Jude, appreciating that after last night he was probably the last person she could ask for help, but also knowing that perhaps he was also the only one who could help her at this moment.
‘Do something,’ she hissed breathlessly, the other four not having spotted them sitting in the lounge yet, talking to the receptionist at this moment, probably asking her where Jude could be found.
Jude looked down at her, dark brows raised. ‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know,’ May returned exasperatedly. ‘They’re your friends; get rid of them.’
He shrugged. ‘They’re your sisters, and their fiancés, you get rid of them.’
‘Thanks for nothing!’ May snapped disgustedly, feeling her panic rise as, having been told exactly where Jude could be located, four pairs of eyes now turned in their direction. ‘Jude…!’ she pleaded, desperately clutching his arm now.
The Deserving Mistress Page 13
