The confidence with which she had fallen asleep had largely vanished by the time she awoke the following morning. The speeches she had rehearsed in her mind for Hubert were completely jumbled and she realised she would have to play the whole thing by ear. There was also the problem of the car to sort out and, as she had her coffee, she wondered if it would actually be as easy to find out about Fabian Naughton as she expected. It occurred to her that if she started making enquiries about him somebody would surely let him know, and that could create quite the wrong impression. Perhaps it was best to let sleeping dogs—and antique dealers—lie.
When she arrived at the showroom, Diana informed her that Hubert would be out all morning, which meant that the moment of truth would be delayed. ,
"So, did you get on any better in the afternoon?" Diana asked.
Pippa told her the whole unabridged story while Diana listened with interest, her expression becoming amusingly knowing when Pippa described the kiss. From the misty look in her eyes, it seemed that she was reliving the moment of passion on Pippa's behalf.
"And that's all?" Diana asked.
"I'm afraid so. That was it."
"What a waste!" Diana shrieked. "I'm disappointed in you, Pippa. That sort of thing happens once in a lifetime and you let him go. Honestly!"
Pippa had to giggle. She could just imagine Diana if the roles had been reversed. She would have lured Fabian in and wouldn't have let him go until he'd proposed and signed a marriage contract.
"Well, I always said he was interested," Diana said with satisfaction. "Do you think he'll call? You could always phone him to say thanks. You don't want to seem too anxious." The advice from one who should know about these things flowed from her lips.
"I think I should be very careful indeed," Pippa said, sounding more sensible about Fabian Naughton than she had thought possible.
"Now you never want to be sensible," Diana told her emphatically. "Never!"
Although Pippa had a fair amount of work to do, she couldn't concentrate on anything. At eleven o'clock she phoned the garage in Oxford who informed her that the car did need a new gearbox. It was going to cost the anticipated small fortune but Pippa didn't feel she had much choice in the matter. If she didn't have the car repaired she would have to sell it for scrap, and it would cost her much more to find a new set of wheels. She instructed them to proceed with the work, but they told her it probably wouldn't be ready until the end of the following week because they would need to order the gearbox.
Now that Pippa had sorted out the problem with the car she had even more time to think about Fabian Naughton, and her thoughts were basically confused. Half of her was still furious with him for his conduct at the auction while the other was absurdly bowled over by his charm and his gallantry—not to mention his kissing. Pippa knew it was important not to romanticise him and, as she considered the events of the previous day, she could not recall his having apologised for his behaviour at all. All he had done was to avoid the issue by refusing to talk shop. Pippa tried to persuade herself that whatever happened afterwards was totally irrelevant—except that somehow it wasn't as easy as that. If Fabian Naughton really was a gentleman, he would have the grace to apologise. Perhaps, on reflection, he would realise that he had behaved appallingly at the auction and would make amends. For that reason, Pippa kidded herself, she wanted him to phone or write or do something. Deep down, she needed to know that he had enjoyed the kiss as much she had. And if she didn't hear from him, then she would have to take it that he hadn't, and that was something her ego did not wish to contemplate.
The phone scarcely rang all morning, and when it did it was not for her. Every time anyone came into the showroom, Pippa expected to see a delivery boy laden with a bouquet—not that she did, which was most depressing. She tried to see the situation from Fabian's angle and that made her feel even worse. He had humiliated her at the auction: he had been magnanimous by coming to her rescue, and, on top of all that, he had managed to kiss her without encountering any resistance at all. In fact, he had won all along the line, and that probably explained why there was no phone call and no flowers.
"I've really been used," Pippa moaned to Diana over sandwiches at lunchtime.
"Yes! But wasn't it fun?"
"Yes and no," said Pippa miserably. "I wish I'd never set eyes on him. And I've still got to explain it all to Hubert."
"He'll be back soon," Diana informed her.
He arrived half-an-hour later, looking exceedingly dapper in a brown dogtooth suit with a floppy polka-dot bow-tie. He was extremely pleased with himself, having just acquired some superb pieces of Chippendale at a most advantageous price.
"Come in and tell me all about yesterday's treasures!" Hubert said, opening the door to his office and beckoning Pippa in. She looked at Diana who gave her a supportive and sympathetic smile.
"So what treasures did we acquire?" Hubert asked.
"I'm afraid we didn't acquire any."
"Nothing? Not one single lot?"
"Not one single lot," said Pippa glumly.
"Not even that little enamel box you were after?"
Pippa shook her head.
"Didn't you go?"
"I went, but I was outbid on everything by that Fabian Naughton. He bought up everything I bid for or pushed me beyond my limit."
Pippa wasn't sure how Hubert was going to react. Had he been in a Tom and Jerry cartoon he would probably have turned puce and exploded into thousands of small pieces. As it was, he simply bellowed with laughter.
"Revenge! Well, well, well. I never thought he had it in him. Did he say anything?"
Pippa decided this was the point to tell Hubert everything, including the kiss, which she related with a degree of outrage and embarrassment.
"The young devil! Well, it's one of the hazards of being irresistible, my dear girl. But who could blame him for wanting to kiss you?"
Pippa blushed, relieved that Hubert had taken it all so well.
"For goodness' sake, don't worry about it. There'll be other auctions. In fact, there's something coming up at Sotheby's next Tuesday that I'd like you to attend. Let's just hope that Naughton isn't there."
"Yes," said Pippa but only half-meant it for, while she knew that Fabian Naughton could only cause trouble, she still wanted to see him. And that really annoyed her. Nor was she terribly pleased by the phone call she received from Lesley Bayer, a former college friend who worked with a dealer in Bond Street.
"Hear you had a spot of trouble in Oxfordshire," Lesley said.
"Yes," said Pippa, wondering what sort of calumny Fabian had been spreading.
"Well, I think you're very lucky being rescued by naughty Fabian. I can think of worse fates." From her tone it was clear that Lesley wanted Pippa to fill her in with the details that Fabian had omitted.
"It was very kind of him to wait until the garage arrived and to give me a lift home." Pippa felt like a film star giving a "no comment, we're just good friends" statement.
Since Lesley clearly had no intention of changing the subject, Pippa thought it opportune to find out as much as she could about "naughty Fabian", as Lesley aptly described him.
"I know he's stinking rich and has a shop round the corner. I know he drives a Porsche. But I don't know him very well at all. He's a friend of a friend. I've met him a few times and he was at the wine bar yesterday."
"Did he say anything about the auction?" Pippa asked nervously, wondering whether he was already broadcasting his victory to the art world.
"Only that it was in Oxford. Why? Did anything happen?" Lesley asked.
"Not a lot," Pippa said, determined not to publicise his revenge.
"No, he just said that he'd done his knight in shining armour bit and asked if anyone knew you. He sounded quite interested in you, actually."
"He's married, isn't he?" Pippa said, deliberately trying to draw Lesley out on the subject without appearing overly concerned.
"I don't think so. No. I'm sure he's
not."
"He was a bit vague, so I assumed he was married," Pippa explained. "I'm sure there's been some big romance, though."
"I expect so. There have probably been hundreds. D'you want me to find out all the dirt?"
"I must admit I wouldn't mind knowing a bit more about him. Just academic interest, of course!"
"Of course!"
By the end of the conversation, Pippa was confident that Fabian hadn't said anything out of order, for which she was grateful. And she was also amused to have learnt that he had been asking questions about her. It suggested that he had enjoyed the kiss after all, which was reassuring, even if she never saw him again.
Pippa told Diana the latest and she wasn't in the least surprised.
"I know he's after you, I can just tell," she said knowingly.
"Well, if he was that interested he would probably call, and he hasn't," Pippa observed.
"He will," Diana said with complete certainty.
And he did—although it was when Pippa was least expecting it, shortly before she was about to join Mark and Karen for supper.
"Hello, this is Fabian Naughton," he said cautiously. "I hope you don't mind my calling you at home but I thought it was better than ringing you at work. I got your number from a mutual friend—Lesley Bayer. I just wanted to see how you were."
"I'm fine, thank you. How are you?"
"Apart from a guilty conscience, I'm fine. I just wanted to apologise for everything at Aspley. I behaved abominably. It was my revenge for something Hubert did to me and I realise that I ought to have taken it out on him personally rather than on you. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise!"
"I think you behaved appallingly, quite honestly," said Pippa, deciding to make him sweat.
"Can you ever forgive me?" He sounded genuinely upset.
"I imagine so."
"Do you think dinner for two would help the forgiving process?"
"Well, er…" She was obviously uneasy.
"Or if that's too much, how about lunch or tea?"
Pippa decided to play safe and cautiously accepted an invitation to tea.
"Then tea for two it is! And I think I can manage something a little classier than 'Julie's Pantry'. You're not by any chance going to Sotheby's in the near future, are you?"
"I am, next Tuesday," she said.
"Splendid! Well, why don't we have tea at Claridges?"
"That would be lovely."
"I'm sure it will. How's the car, by the way?"
"Not too good. It needs a new gearbox but they haven't got one in stock."
"Typical! Well, I hope it doesn't take too long."
There was a pause and then they both started speaking at the same time.
"Please—after you," Fabian said.
"What time shall we meet on Tuesday?" Pippa asked.
"Shall we say four-thirty or five?"
"Five would be better."
"Then five it is. I look forward to it," Fabian said brightly.
"Yes," Pippa replied a little ambivalently. And they said goodbye.
"I must be crazy!" Pippa said to herself as she thought about the conversation. To accept further hospitality from Fabian was positively dangerous, and if Hubert knew she was sure he would blow a gasket. But what harm could a cup of tea do? Instinctively, she knew there were all sorts of other dangers where Fabian Naughton was concerned, but, nevertheless, there was still something terribly attractive about him.
"Sounds gorgeous," Karen observed over supper, her brown eyes twinkling mischievously. "Young, rich, good-looking, successful." She began deliberately to tease Mark. "I never used to meet men like that."
"Thanks very much!" Mark protested, looking to Pippa for support. "Tell me, what's this Fabian character got that I haven't. I mean I'm blond, blue-eyed, young, good-looking—"
"You've got everything except the Porsche, the flat in Belgravia and the multi-million-pound inheritance," Pippa explained.
"Money. That's all you girls think about!" Mark complained. "That's not true!" said Karen, sounding outraged. "I think about sex as well." With which she left the table and ran over to kiss her husband.
They all laughed, and the subject of Fabian Naughton was dropped. But seeing Mark and Karen so totally in love made Pippa only too aware that she was on her own—not that she begrudged them their happiness at all. In fact, she was delighted for them, because they were such a happy couple. She also felt responsible for bringing them together as Karen had been one of her closest friends at school.
Karen and Mark were living proof that first love was sometimes the real thing, for they had met when Mark was seventeen and Karen and Pippa were fourteen. They hadn't even initially disliked each other either. In fact, they had been mutually attracted from the word go and were a classic couple even then. Mark, with Pippa's colouring, was tall and slim with dark blond hair while Karen was a vivacious brunette with seemingly endless energy. She worked at an advertising agency as an account executive and not only found time to run a husband, home and a job but also managed to spare an evening a week learning Italian at the local institute with Pippa.
After supper they all played "Trivial Pursuits", at which Mark was something of an expert, and then gave Pippa a lift back to her flat. As she lay in bed, she reviewed the day. It had been fun, but she couldn't help thinking it could have been more fun if she had had a boy friend with her. Boy friends—when they weren't two- or three-timing you—were wonderful. She thought of Glen and remembered Steven, a dashing young auctioneer, who had taken her out for lunch a couple of times before revealing that he was married. And there was Gavin, a fashion designer who emigrated to Australia three weeks after Pippa met him—although the two events were not necessarily connected. It made Pippa feel that somehow there was always a catch, and she was quite sure Fabian Naughton would have more catches than most. But quite unashamedly she couldn't wait for Tuesday.
Had she been meeting anyone else for tea, Pippa would have mentioned it to Diana but, in the circumstances, she couldn't risk this particular snippet of information reaching Hubert's ears. And so the innocent cup of tea was swiftly turning into a guilty secret.
By the time Tuesday finally arrived, Pippa was almost as excited as a child on Christmas Eve. She couldn't wait for the afternoon, and time proceeded at an unbearably slow pace.
"I hope you'll have rather greater success this afternoon," Hubert said,-just as Pippa was about to set off for Sotheby's.
"I'll do my best!" Pippa assured him.
"You can do no more, my dear."
The auction was well-attended and Pippa successfully bid for three of the seven lots Hubert wanted, so she knew he would be pleased. At last it was a quarter to five and Pippa left the auction, escaping to the ladies' room to make sure she looked her best. She was wearing an aubergine skirt with a matching blouse, and a pink angora jumper with three aubergine diagonals. She could see no reason why Fabian shouldn't be impressed. Full of confidence, she walked the short distance to Claridges and found him waiting for her beneath the sparkling chandelier in the lobby.
"Hi!" he said with a decidedly bashful smile. "Lovely to see you." And he led her into the lounge for tea.
They chatted so easily that Pippa found it difficult to imagine she had been at loggerheads with him less than a week before. They were talking as if they had known each other for years. It was something he remarked on.
"We do get on terribly well, don't we? It makes me feel even worse about last week. I forgot to say on the phone that I hoped you didn't get into trouble with Hubert because of my antics at Aspley."
"He was very understanding as far as I was concerned, but I don't think you're one of his favourite people."
"Well, that's not surprising. There were some nice pieces. He has a very good eye, I must give him that. Even that enamel box, the heart-shaped one, turns out to be quite unusual. I wouldn't have thought it was his style, though."
"It wasn't," said Pippa curtly.
&nbs
p; Fabian blanched. "You mean you wanted it for yourself?"
"It's not important."
"Look, you can have it, with pleasure."
"I don't want it now, really. It would only remind me of a time I'd rather forget."
"I feel terrible," Fabian confessed. "The least I can do is give you a time to remember. Are you doing anything Sunday week? There's a charity gala in aid of all sorts of worthy causes. I've got a couple of tickets for it—it's going to be a great show. Why don't you let me take you?"
"I couldn't possibly."
"All things are possible," he countered. "Give me one good reason why you can't come."
"'I don't think I should," she said lamely.
"You mean you don't think Hubert would like it?" Fabian snapped back perceptively. "You are astonishingly loyal!"
"He's been very good to me. I owe him a lot." And, in case Fabian was gaining the wrong impression, she added, "He was a great friend of my grandmother's and since she died he's been very kind."
Fabian looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I had no idea." He hesitated for a moment. "Look, there's loads of time. If you change your mind, please let me know. We'd have such fun. I mean it."
"I'll think about it," Pippa told him, and she knew she would.
"What I'm saying, Philippa, is that I really would like to see you again."
If it hadn't been for her worries about Hubert, she would have accepted there and then. But good sense, like a spiteful spoil-sport, told her to hold back. Anyway, as Fabian said, there was time. Sensing that he could do no more to persuade her, Fabian looked at his watch and said he had to be going.
A Bid for Love & A Chance of Happiness Page 6
