She eyed him askance. ‘You sound so sure of that.’
‘To put it another way,’ he said, utterly serious, ‘we belong to each other. And until death do us part. So, my darling, get used to the idea.’
Chapter Nine
UNACCUSTOMED to a man in her bed, Joanna woke early next morning. March didn’t stir as she slid carefully to her feet. She gazed in silence for a moment at his sleeping face, then collected her belongings and stole along the landing to his bathroom to wash and dress as quietly as she could before going down to the kitchen. She switched more lights on for company while she made tea, and sat down to drink it, not sure whether last night had been the most wonderful experience of her life or the biggest mistake.
Eventually she made herself focus on the room. Could she really live here and preside over this as March’s wife? Half of her shouted yes, yes, yes! But the other, more cerebral half, pointed out that mind-blowing sex was not, by a long way, the only skill required from the wife of Lord Arnborough. He needed a helpmeet, someone to share his life and responsibilities, as his mother had with his father. While she, unlike daughters brought up with their parents from birth, wanted more time to enjoy her relationship with Kate and Jack now it was on an even keel at last. And there was Kitty, and Grandpa. And now the baby, too. Also her much-loved house in Park Crescent to add to the mix.
The problem was, she thought despairingly, that she wanted March to be madly in love with her—the way he’d felt about the beautiful Lavinia. While he needed a sensible, capable wife to help him run Arnborough, and Joanna Logan filled the bill in the job description. But she just couldn’t see herself as chatelaine of this ancient house with its centuries of history.
An hour went past unnoticed as Joanna drank cup after cup of tea and mulled over the problem. Suddenly she tensed at the sound of swearing as someone fought with the lock on the kitchen door, and then a man burst into the room to dump down a pile of luggage. A thin, haggard stranger with a mane of shaggy fair hair stared at her in shock. Then his eyes lit up in wonder and he shot across the room to yank her to her feet, scaring her out of her wits.
‘Jo Logan? My God, is it really you—?’
‘Yes, it is,’ said a harsh voice, and March erupted into the kitchen to pull Jo away. ‘Where the hell have you sprung from, Rufus?’
But his brother was too focussed on Jo’s face to answer. ‘It’s a miracle.’ He turned to March with a smile of blazing gratitude. ‘She really is alive—you found her.’
‘I found her, yes,’ said March grimly. ‘But not for you. She’s mine.’
‘What?’ Rufus pushed the hair back from his face, his blue eyes blank with incomprehension. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘We met by chance right here at Arnborough,’ March informed him. ‘Nothing to do with you, old fellow.’
Joanna detached herself from his possessive grasp. ‘Your brother is right, Red. Sorry—Rufus. He thought Joe Logan was a man. We’d known each other for a while before he discovered my connection with your accident. I’m so deeply sorry about that,’ she added. ‘I hope you’re fully recovered.’
‘Yes, thanks. But never mind that,’ he said impatiently, and glared at his brother. ‘Why the hell would you think Jo was a man?’
March glared back. ‘There was no mention of gender in your ravings. It was a simple mistake.’
‘Which you probably didn’t even bother to follow up!’
March controlled himself with effort. ‘You know damn well I did, Rufus. So did Father, and the police. But there was no evidence that anyone other than you and your friend Peel had been in the car. I’m telling you the truth. I met Jo for the first time quite recently, right here, at the garden centre.’
Rufus stared dully from Jo to his brother, then rubbed his eyes like a weary child, his face ashen. ‘God-awful headache,’ he muttered. ‘Sorry. I feel a bit…’ He sagged. March leapt to catch him, and propped him on the nearest chair.
‘Heavens, March, he looks ghastly,’ said Joanna in alarm, and felt Rufus’s pulse. ‘You’d better call a doctor.’
‘First I need to get him upstairs.’
‘Right. I’ll help you carry him. Is the bed made in his room?’
‘Probably not. I’ll put him in mine for now.’ He looked at her closely. ‘Apart from all the drama, how are you today?’
‘Shell-shocked,’ she said tersely, feeling her colour rise as she met his eyes.
‘As a result of last night?’ he whispered.
‘Yes. And now this,’ she added, gesturing at the unconscious face of his brother. ‘I’d better help you get him upstairs before I go.’
‘Go?’ March frowned.
‘I’m on kitchen duty at Mill House today, remember.’
‘Oh, God, so you are. But after we get Rufus in bed we talk before you take off,’ he warned.
‘We certainly will,’ she said ominously. ‘Grab him by the shoulders and I’ll take his feet.’
But March simply heaved his brother up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift. ‘Up we go,’ he said breathlessly.
‘For God’s sake be careful,’ Jo implored, following behind.
‘Don’t—worry—I won’t—drop him.’
‘I’m more afraid you’ll do damage to yourself!’ she retorted, and mounted the stairs behind March as he bore his brother at a steady pace up the stairs to the landing, then let him slide to his feet, keeping a tight hold of him while he took a breather.
‘There’s not much flesh on him,’ he panted, ‘but he’s heavier than he looks.’
‘Are you all right?’ demanded Jo.
‘I will be once baby brother’s safe in bed and I’ve rung a doctor.’ He heaved Rufus up again, cursing under his breath as his phone rang in his back pocket. ‘Fish it out and see who it is, darling, will you?’
Jo eyed the caller ID with misgiving. ‘It’s your sister.’
‘Answer it, then.’
‘Hello?’ she said reluctantly.
‘Hi, Henrietta Stern here. Is my brother there?’
‘Just a moment. I’ll get him for you.’
Once Rufus was safe on the bed, March took the phone from Jo. He flung an arm round her waist and held her close as he spoke to his sister, who was apparently arriving home that afternoon.
‘That’s bit of a surprise, Hetty, I thought you were coming next week. Just as well, though, because Rufus turned up just now, looking the worse for wear. He needs a doctor. But I was able to introduce him to Miss Joanna Logan, the lady who spent the night here with me.’ He laughed. ‘Yes, she is. I’ll fill you in when you arrive. See you.’
March took Joanna by the hand and led her outside to the landing. ‘I know you want to hit me, but hang on while I find out who’s on call.’ When he got through to the medical centre to describe the problem a call was promised within minutes, but Jo glared at him as he put the phone back in his pocket.
‘Why on earth did you tell your sister that? She’ll assume I’m your lover.’
‘Because, my darling, that’s exactly what you are.’ He took her in his arms and kissed her protests into silence. ‘At least,’ he added, ‘until you agree to be a whole lot more than that.’
‘Which I won’t,’ she said, when she could speak.
March smiled indulgently. ‘Of course you will. As I’ve said before—get used to the idea.’ He took her hand and led her back to his room, to find Rufus staring up at them blankly.
‘What happened, March?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘How did I get up here?’
‘You passed out. I carried you up.’
Dazed blue eyes turned on Joanna. ‘So you are here, Jo. I didn’t dream it.’
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘How are you feeling, Rufus?’
‘Pretty awful.’ The eyes narrowed. ‘Are you going to marry March?’
‘No, I’m not—’
‘Yes, she is,’ said his brother with emphasis.
Jo glared at him, then glanced at her watc
h. ‘I must be off soon, but I can make you some tea first, Rufus, and something to eat.’
He shuddered. ‘No, thanks. Head aching too much. Feel sick. Where are you going?’
‘Home—to cook lunch for my parents.’
This seemed to be more than he could take in. With a weary sigh he closed his eyes.
March eyed his pallor with misgiving. ‘Just rest for a bit, Rufus, until the doctor comes.’ He led Jo from the room. ‘Do you have to go?’
‘I should,’ she said, torn, then sighed, resigned. ‘All right. If you’ll give me your phone I’ll see if I can arrange things so I can stay for a while to help.’
March’s eyes lit with such gratitude she almost forgave him. ‘But only if it doesn’t inconvenience your family.’
‘It won’t.’ Jo pressed a few buttons. ‘Hi, Molly, it’s Jo. I hope you weren’t still in bed. Can you do me a big favour?’
While she was talking the doctor arrived. After a hurried consultation March touched a hand to Jo’s shoulder and led the doctor off to examine the invalid. Once Molly had promised to deliver Sunday lunch for the Logan family promptly at one, Jo rang her mother to explain the situation. ‘The thing is, March desperately needs a helping hand. The doctor’s with his brother right now, but I’d like to stay for a bit. I’ve organised lunch for you. Molly’s sending it over. My treat.’
‘Joanna! There was no need to do that.’
‘Yes, there was. Otherwise Hazel won’t take the day off. Apologise to the others, and tell Kitty I’ll see her tomorrow on my way home from work.’
‘All right, darling. By the way, if you stayed overnight, where exactly did you sleep?’ asked Kate sweetly.
‘In the fabulous room once occupied by March’s parents. You’d love it. Look, must dash. See you tomorrow.’
Jo snapped March’s phone shut, smiling anxiously as March introduced her to the doctor as ‘a friend of the family’.
‘Rufus is battling with one of the severe migraines he’s been subject to since his accident some years ago,’ said the doctor, his eyes alert as Jo winced. ‘Are you all right, my dear?’
‘My brother’s collapse gave her a scare,’ said March, putting a possessive arm round her.
‘Hardly surprising. I’ve given him an injection, so he should sleep for several hours. When he wakes he’ll feel better, so give him plenty of fluids and try to make him eat something light—soup or eggs.’ He shook March’s hand. ‘Don’t hesitate to call me if you need me. Rufus told me he’s brought his prescription medication with him, but if he needs more contact the health centre.’
March saw the doctor out, then returned to Jo. ‘Can you stay?’
She nodded. ‘Molly’s sending lunch over to Mill House, and I’ve rung my mother to explain. Kate’s curious, to say the least.’
‘Because you stayed the night?’
‘More because I’m staying for the day.’ She eyed him wryly. ‘Now I suppose I’ve got to face your sister too.’
‘Thank you, Joanna. It means a lot to have you here with me.’
‘Then I’ll make myself useful and rustle up some breakfast.’ She relented suddenly, and smiled up at him. ‘How about a fry-up?’
‘First I need this.’ March bent his head to kiss her, then held her close against him, rubbing his cheek against hers. ‘I’ll take Rufus’s things upstairs and check on him. Then I intend, come what may, to concentrate on the pleasure of my first breakfast with my future wife. But,’ he added, his eyes holding hers, ‘only the first of many.’
‘Are you going to keep saying things like that to indoctrinate me?’ she said, scowling at him.
‘I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it’s a good plan!’ He picked up the scruffy selection of baggage and sent her a searing look as he went from the room.
Jo watched him go, wondering why the tall, rangy figure in an ordinary navy jersey and jeans was so much everything she’d ever wanted in a man—except for the title and the daunting splendour of his home. She sighed, ran an assessing eye over the cooker, and got to work.
By the time March came back she’d set the table, a platter of crisp grilled bacon was in the warming oven, and she was about to break eggs into the frying pan.
‘Perfect timing,’ she said, smiling. ‘How is he?’
‘Sleeping like the dead. I’m glad I got his clothes off while the doctor was here. Rufus is so out of it now I wouldn’t have a hope of undressing him,’ he told her. ‘Apparently oblivion for a few hours is the best thing for him. It was sheer luck Dr Harwood was on call. He saw Rufus through his convalescence after the accident. He was also a huge support to me during my father’s final illness.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘When my brother does wake up I’ll have some questions to ask.’
‘Just concentrate on breakfast right now. How about making some toast while I finish the eggs?’ suggested Jo.
March set to work. When he set the filled toast rack on the table he drew in a deep breath of pure satisfaction as Jo set a filled plate in front of him. ‘Perfect. All Sundays should start like this—minus the early-morning drama.’
Jo sat down to her own meal, suddenly famished, then flushed when it dawned on her why.
‘What were you thinking about just then?’ asked March, reaching out a hand to touch hers. ‘Something to do with last night?’
‘Yes,’ she muttered, buttering toast feverishly. ‘I hadn’t realized—’
‘Realised what, my darling?’
‘That one felt so hungry afterwards.’
March gave a delighted laugh. ‘None of your other essays into romance had the same effect?’
‘Heavens, no. And I’d hardly describe them as romance. Besides—’ She stopped dead.
‘Besides?’ he prompted.
‘It was so different with you,’ she muttered.
‘I should hope so!’ His fingers tightened. ‘Tell me how.’
‘You made love to me more than once. I thought that only happened in books.’
March speared her with the direct look she was getting to know so well. ‘Did you spend the night with the others?’
‘No. Never.’
‘That explains it. If a man holds a girl in his arms all night he’s bound to wake and want to make love to her—if only first thing in the morning.’ He gave her an accusing look. ‘Which would have happened this morning, but the bird had flown. Why?’
‘I woke early and just had to get up. You were fast asleep, so I tried not to disturb you.’
March’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did you have some idea of taking off for home before I got up?’
‘No, of course not,’ she said indignantly. ‘I came down to the kitchen to make tea and do some thinking.’
He relaxed slightly, and helped himself to more toast. ‘Did I feature in your thoughts?’
‘Of course you did—until your brother burst in and scared the living daylights out of me. I didn’t recognise him, March.’
‘I’m not surprised. He looks terrible. You’d think that someone living in sunny Italy by a lake would look a damn sight better than Rufus.’ He frowned. ‘I still have no idea why he’s here. Hetty doesn’t either. But she soon will. She’s better at dealing with him than I am.’ He looked at his watch. ‘I’d better ring Mario—let him know Rufus has arrived.’
‘I’ll clear this lot away, then make some coffee while you’re doing that.’
March smiled at her as he got up. ‘This is so good, Joanna.’
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Nevertheless, I’m not weakening,’ she said firmly as she got to her feet.
His smile widened. ‘Aren’t you? I’ll just go upstairs and use a landline for the call. I’ll have a look at Rufus on the way down, then enjoy my coffee with you in peace.’ He dropped a kiss on her hair on his way past, and strode from the room.
By the time March came back Jo had cleared away all signs of breakfast. ‘Did you find out anything?’ she demanded.
‘No. Apparently Silvana and
Mario are away, but my Italian isn’t good enough to understand the housekeeper too well.’ March pulled her into his arms. ‘Rufus is still out for the count.’
Jo leaned against him for a moment, needing the contact. ‘So let’s sit and enjoy our coffee. By the way, is your sister staying tonight?’
‘Forgot to ask. Why?’
Jo eyed him in exasperation. ‘If she is, presumably she will need dinner. So will you. And Rufus, too, if he’s up to it.’
March planted a hard kiss on her lips. ‘I do so love a bossy woman. Correction. I love my bossy woman. But let’s have that coffee before we let the rest of the world intrude. Which reminds me,’ he added as Jo filled coffee mugs. ‘How the hell did Rufus get here so early?’
‘No idea. Taxi?’
‘It would have to be. There’s no train at that hour.’ March tasted his coffee. ‘That’s wonderful. It never tastes like this when I make it. The magic ingredient is obviously your company while I drink it.’
‘Thank you, kind sir! Do you want me to cook lunch when Hetty arrives?’
‘Certainly not. We’ll eat at the pub.’
‘Then I’d better give the redoubtable Trish a ring and organise it. Or better still take a stroll over there while you have a shower. I need some fresh air.’ And some time on her own…
March seized her in his arms and kissed her. ‘You may do whatever you like, my darling. And no more nonsense about the role of Lady Arnborough. You were born to play it.’
‘Oh, I probably could play it well enough for a while,’ she admitted. ‘But living it on a permanent basis is a different thing altogether.’
Chapter Ten
AFTER a leave taking from March which left her flushed and breathless, Jo walked briskly to the pub.
‘Good morning.’ She smiled when Dan opened the side door in response to her knock. ‘I decided to pop over rather than ring. Could I have a word with your wife about a meal?’
‘Of course, Miss Logan.’ He ushered her into the kitchen. ‘Young Rufus turning up out of the blue was a surprise. His brother had no idea he was coming?’
‘No.’ Jo smiled as Trish came in. ‘Hello, I need assistance.’
The Mistress of His Manor Page 12
