Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby

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Prince Charming of Harley Street / The Heart Doctor and the Baby Page 15

by Anne Fraser / Lynne Marshall


  They were silent in the drive to his house. Rose kept sneaking little glances at Jonathan. The air between them sizzled with anticipation. Every time he caught her looking at him he would smile and her heart would flutter as if a hundred butterflies were trapped within her chest.

  Inside his house, Jonathan closed the door and, taking her by the hand, led her to the bedroom. Kicking the bedroom door closed, he reached for her and pulled her into his arms.

  ‘I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you, Rose,’ he said hoarsely.

  Rose raised her face to his, knowing that whatever the next few days, weeks and months brought, she was exactly where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.

  She wound her arms around his neck then his mouth was on hers and she gave herself up to him.

  Much later they cuddled up in front of the fire, and finished off their picnic.

  Rose leaned against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her as they watched the flickering flames.

  ‘It won’t be long before I go back,’ she said quietly.

  She sensed him take a deep intake of breath. ‘You don’t have to go. Stay with me.’

  She twisted her head until she could see his face. ‘I’m not talking just about tonight. I mean go back to Edinburgh. I have a life there. A home. Friends. Whatever this is, you and I know it can’t last.’

  ‘What do you mean? It can last as long as we both want it to.’

  Sadness washed over her. Jonathan couldn’t know that each moment could be their last. He couldn’t know and, what was more, she was determined he would never know. She knew she could never hurt him like that. This thing in her brain could burst at any time. If it didn’t kill her, it could leave her helpless and she would never be a burden on anyone. It scared her more than death.

  ‘We’re different, you and I,’ she said softly. ‘You have your life and I have mine. That’s okay.’

  Jonathan threw back his head and laughed. ‘You think because I’m the son of a lord, because I’ll inherit a title one day, that that means we can’t be together. My God, Rose. This is the twenty-first century. Even princes marry who they want.’

  ‘But we’re not talking marriage, are we? We hardly know each other.’ She shook her head, forcing a laugh. ‘Let’s not make more of this than it is.’ She turned away so she couldn’t see his eyes, knowing she was hurting him.

  ‘I know you well enough to know you are everything I ever wanted. But I don’t expect you to feel the same. That’s why we need time. Time for me to convince you that I’m not beyond redemption.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Somehow I know my partying days are behind me.’ He hugged her tighter. ‘Don’t give up on me, Rose. Not yet.’

  His hands were on her body again. She wished he wouldn’t do that. How was she expected to think clearly when her head was full of him? Her body burning at his touch, her need for him so strong? But this right now was all she could offer him. All she had. She turned around and sat facing him, wrapping her legs around his hips.

  ‘Enough talking,’ she said, before pulling his face towards hers.

  The next days were the most bitter-sweet of Rose’s life. She burned every memory of Jonathan into her head. During the day, they would steal kisses, small touches and share glances. Then at night, after she’d been home to check up on her father, he would collect her from her parents’ house and drive her back to his town house. As soon as the door closed behind them, they would be in each other’s arms, tearing at each other’s clothes, often not even making it to the bedroom.

  On the rare occasions they didn’t see other she would sit in her room, strumming her guitar, composing lyrics to new songs in her head. It was the happiest time of her life—and the saddest. Sometimes her head would ache and she would be terrified it was a sign the aneurysm was going to burst. She spent hours on the internet going over the options, but if she was hoping to find an easy solution she was disappointed. As the doctors had pointed out, there were only two. She could have surgery. Or not. Whatever she decided, the outcome could be the same. Paralysis, possibly death.

  Not much of a choice, then. Do nothing and continue to live as she had been. Making the most of every day. But it was a life without a future. A day-to-day existence. A life where she wouldn’t marry, have children or, worst of all, Jonathan. And the other option? Have the operation, knowing the consequences, but also knowing it offered at least a chance for a future. One where she was free to love and be loved. Have children. Grow old.

  Until she had met Jonathan, doing nothing had made sense. Now she wanted more.

  She paced her little room, her throat tightening as she remembered happier times. Her father strong and healthy, the house filled with love and laughter, the future still a merciful blank.

  One thing she knew for certain. She couldn’t tell Jonathan. He would insist on sticking by her whatever happened, and she couldn’t allow that to happen. How soon would it be before his love changed to duty, regret, even loathing. Instinctively she knew he would never leave her.

  Neither could she talk to him about it. He would want to help her make a decision. Then whatever she did, whatever the consequences, he would feel responsible. She loved him too much for that. No, only one person could decide what to do, and that was her.

  Her aching heart told her the truth before her brain could accept it. She would have the operation. Place her fate in the hands of the gods. She would leave Jonathan behind, convince him somehow she didn’t love him, then disappear from his life and have the operation. If it was a success, she would find him again and tell him the truth. And if it wasn’t? At least she had set him free to live his life. She had a week left with him. And she would make the most of every minute.

  ‘So I’ll be back next week. On Monday, if that’s okay with you?’ Vicki propped a hip against the desk. ‘I can’t believe how much better I feel now that I’ve stopped being sick.’ She dropped a hand to the curve of her belly and Rose felt a stab of longing that almost took her breath away. Now Vicki was coming back, she no longer had an excuse to put it off. Miss Fairweather had scheduled the operation for two weeks’ time. Now that she had made the decision, she had told her parents. It had been one of the worst nights of her life. But she had found comfort at last as she had cried in her mother’s arms.

  Vicki glanced over at Jonathan’s closed door. He was seeing a patient. ‘He’s going to miss you. I don’t suppose you are free to cover my maternity leave?’

  Rose smiled wryly. Vicki had no idea how much she hoped she would be able to be in a position to do that.

  ‘I still have my job in Edinburgh. They’re expecting me back. I don’t think you can count on me covering you, although…’ she reached out a hand ‘…I’ll come back and see you when the baby is born.’ Rose swallowed the lump in her throat. Please, God, let her be telling the truth.

  ‘I’m going to miss you. Hard to imagine returning to the way it was here before you and Jenny.’ Vicki indicated Jenny with a nod of her head. ‘I think the patients actually prefer Jenny now they’re used to her. She makes them laugh.’

  ‘Just as well, then, because Jonathan’s offered her a permanent job. Mrs Smythe Jones called into see Jonathan the other day. Apparently she’s decided to emigrate to New Zealand to be with her sister.’

  Vicki whistled under her breath. ‘I didn’t think she’d ever leave. This practice has been her life for nearly forty years. She was here when Jonathan’s uncle started. She wouldn’t retire last year even when Jonathan assured her that the pension the company would settle on her is almost as much as her salary. She said she’d be lonely at home. I guess if she’s going to stay with her sister, lack of company won’t be an issue.’

  The two women turned to look across at Jenny who was patiently listening to the voice on the other end of the phone, offering periodic oh, dears and poor you. They smiled at each other. ‘I gather Jenny was out at lunch when Mrs Smythe Jones came for her chat. Somehow I can’t imagine her letting Jonathan emp
loy Jenny if she had seen the hairdo.’

  Over the weeks Jenny’s hair had reverted to the spiky look she loved. No one had said anything. Rose had only been glad that the piercings remained at home. Even if Jonathan and his patients accepted the hair, a nose ring was bound to be a step too far.

  Rose would be leaving all this behind soon, maybe forever, and the thought was breaking her heart.

  Chapter Nine

  LATER on that day they received word that Lord Hilton had died in his sleep. Rose had become fond of the couple over the last few weeks and when Jonathan broke the news she was unsurprised at how sad she felt.

  Jonathan pulled her into his arms and she rested her head there. It felt so good, so safe, and she wished she could stay there for ever. With him she could face anything, except what she feared most.

  ‘How is Lady Hilton taking it?’ Rose asked. ‘Should I go to her?’

  ‘She said to tell you that she is very grateful for everything you did for them. She has friends and family around right now, but she asks if you would come to the funeral. She says Giles wanted it.’

  ‘Of course I’ll go,’ Rose said softly. She looked up at him. ‘You’ll be there?’

  ‘I’m always going to be there, Rose Taylor,’ Jonathan said firmly. ‘Don’t you know that by now?’ The look of love in his eyes made her heart shatter. ‘She’s also asked if you could back to the house with the others after the funeral. She has something to tell you.’

  Rose could hardly speak. Her throat was tight. He loved her. She knew that without doubt, even if he hadn’t said the words. Little did he know they could only have these last few days to do them for the rest of their lives. She had handed in her notice in Edinburgh, effective immediately, as the operation had been scheduled for the end of the next week. But she wouldn’t tell Jonathan. For his sake, she would make him believe that she wasn’t in love with him, that she wanted to go back to her life in Edinburgh. It would be hard to convince him, and the thought of hurting him was tearing her apart, but for his sake she had to make him believe her. If the operation was a success she would come back to him and tell him everything. If not? At least he would be free to live his life.

  That evening Jonathan came down to her local again. They had been a couple of times and Jonathan was surprised how relaxing he found the pub and how welcoming Rose’s friends were. Every time they had been there, Rose had taken her guitar and sung. Every day he fell deeper in love.

  Tonight she took her guitar and perched on a chair on the stage. She caught his eye across the crowded room.

  ‘I’ve a new song I’d like to sing tonight,’ she said softly. ‘It’s something I composed recently. I hope you all like it. It’s called, “All my tomorrows”.’

  Her voice was husky as she sang directly to him. The song was about love and loss, about making the most of every moment. The last line of the chorus was ‘All my tomorrows are wrapped up in you today,’ and as she sang the line her voice cracked a little. Something in the way she sang the song and in the way her eyes filled as the last notes died away scared him.

  When she’d finished singing, she smiled a little shakily. The room erupted as everyone clapped and cheered, but Jonathan sat stunned. If he hadn’t known better, he would think she was saying goodbye.

  Lord Hilton’s funeral was held a couple of days later in the family church. Summer had arrived and the mourners gathered under a blazing sun. Rose tried not to think that soon a similar crowd might be gathered to say their last farewells to her. Instead, she resolutely pushed the thought away. She wasn’t going to waste a moment of whatever time she had left thinking gloomy thoughts.

  And Giles’s funeral wasn’t gloomy. It was a celebration of a remarkable man who, as it was pointed out, had stayed in love with his wife of fifty years right until the end.

  Jonathan’s father was there and after the burial he came up to Rose.

  ‘It’s good to see you again, my dear,’ he said. ‘Won’t you ask Jonathan to bring you home for dinner so we can get to know each other better?’

  Rose looked him directly in the eye. If anything happened to her, Jonathan would need his father. She didn’t know if she could make things right between father and son, but she had to try.

  ‘I don’t know if I can persuade him,’ she said softly. ‘He seems to be very angry with you.’ She took a deep breath and hurried on before she lost her nerve. ‘He seems to think that you don’t care about him. That perhaps you never did.’

  Lord Cavendish looked aghast. Whether it was because Rose had the audacity to talk to him about what he almost certainly saw as a private matter, or whether it was because he didn’t want to acknowledge the way his son felt, Rose couldn’t be sure.

  Suddenly his expression relaxed and he smiled grimly. ‘I can see why my son is so besotted with you,’ he said. ‘But he can’t think I don’t care about him. My God, he is the most important thing in my life. Why would he think otherwise?’

  ‘Maybe because you sent him away to boarding school after his mother died? I understand he’s never lived at home since.’

  Lord Cavendish pulled a hand through his still dark and thick hair that was so much like his son’s. ‘I sent him away because I thought it was for the best,’ he said stiffly. ‘I was away so much on business and without his mother…’ He shrugged. ‘There would be no one at home to look after him.’

  Rose plunged on. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jonathan chatting to Lady Hilton.

  ‘He was only a child,’ she said. ‘And you took him away from everything he knew and loved, just when he had suffered the most devastating loss. Didn’t it occur to you that he’d need his father? At least for a while?’

  Jonathan’s father looked even more taken aback, if that was possible. He looked into the distance. ‘I met Jonathan’s mother when I was a young man at university. I loved her instantly. She was like a bright star in my otherwise lonely existence. A bit like I suspect you are to Jonathan. Like you, she didn’t come from aristocracy and my parents didn’t approve. It was different back then. Nobody cares these days. But it didn’t matter what they thought. I couldn’t imagine a future without her. I would have married her even if my family had thrown me on the street.’ He smiled. ‘Luckily it didn’t come to that. We married and had a few short years together. She was a painter, you know. I understand from Lady Hilton that you compose songs? My Clara and you were very much alike. I was working all hours setting up my businesses while she painted. I guess it made her less lonely. Then Jonathan came along and I thought she would miss me less, so I spent even more time away from home.’ His eyes were bleak. ‘I missed her every second, but I thought we had years together.’ His voice was hoarse as if tears weren’t far away.

  Unable to stop herself, Rose touched him gently on the arm, wanting to let him know she understood.

  ‘Then when Jonathan was five, my darling Clara died. I thought I’d go mad with the pain of it. Every time I looked at Jonathan I saw his mother. I couldn’t bear it. I had to throw myself into work. And I had to know they were being looked after. So, yes. I sent him away. I regret it now. I hardly know my son, and it’s my fault.’

  ‘But you married again. Several times, I gather.’ Rose smiled to take the sting from her words.

  ‘I wanted what I had with Clara, but it was no use. I never found it again.’ He looked directly into her eyes.

  ‘Have you ever been in love, Rose? I mean so in love that it feels that he’s the missing part of your soul?’

  Rose bit hard on her lip to stop the tears. She nodded.

  ‘Then you’ll know that no one else can ever measure up, no matter how they try. Your soul remains in two bits. A chunk of you is always missing, no matter how much you search.’

  ‘But you still have part of her. In Jonathan,’ Rose said, forcing the words past her frozen throat.

  She followed his gaze until it rested on Jonathan. His eyes softened. ‘I know I do. But I think I may have left it to
o late.’

  ‘It’s never too late.’ Then, at the realisation of what she’d said, she added, ‘At least, it’s not for you two. Talk to him. I know it’s difficult. But tell him what you told me, about Clara. I think you’ll find he understands.’

  Lord Cavendish gave her a long appraising look. He grinned and Rose’s heart skipped a beat. In that instant she could see the man Jonathan would become as he aged. What she would give to be around to see it. ‘I think I’m going to like having you around, Rose Taylor,’ Lord Cavendish said slowly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I should go and talk to my son.’

  Rose watched as Lord Cavendish walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder and after a few words the two men walked off together.

  Later, back in the Hiltons’ home, Sophia asked Rose to come into her study for a few moments. Rose was baffled. The day was taking its toll on her and she didn’t know how much she could hold it all together. But if Sophia Hilton could keep a brave face even if she was breaking up inside, so could she.

  Lady Hilton opened a desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. She handed it to Rose.

  ‘Giles wanted you to have this, my dear. In the short time we’ve known you, we’ve come to look on you as a daughter.’

  Intrigued, Rose opened the envelope. Inside was a cheque, the sum of which made her gasp.

  ‘What on earth…? You can’t possibly mean to give this to me. It’s far too generous and completely unnecessary.’

 

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