A Rumoured Engagement

by Catherine George

  The day was hectic, but easier on the women with Luke there to help, particularly since his presents for the twins included miniature boxing gloves.

  ‘I thought with these on they couldn’t scratch,’ said Luke in Saskia’s ear.

  ‘If only they don’t knock each other out it’s a brilliant idea. But it’s nearly time for the fish fingers they’ve demanded for lunch,’ she said, ‘so use your charm and seniority to get the gloves off now, please. They haven’t been eating much lately.’

  ‘Does my charm and seniority work on you, too?’ he demanded.

  ‘Every time!’

  ‘I’ll remember that.’

  After lunch the twins were persuaded to sit still for a while to play the new football board game Luke had brought, and afterwards they watched a Disney video, giving the grown-ups a much-needed breather. But after that the little boys were filled with renewed energy, and it took the combined ingenuity of their mother, Saskia and Luke to keep them amused, since they tended to get fractious now and then as a reminder that they were still far from well.

  By late afternoon Marina was exhausted, and Luke and Saskia not much better.

  ‘One game of horses, then upstairs for a bath,’ said Luke firmly. ‘Mummy’s worn out.’

  ‘Me first, me first,’ they clamoured, but Saskia solved that problem by volunteering to be one of the mounts.

  ‘Race you to the drawing room and back while Mummy runs your bath,’ she said, and got down on her hands and knees with Jonty on her back, while his brother crawled up on Luke. Both of them crowed with glee as Luke and Saskia moved as fast as they could on all fours, with their small jockeys urging them on with much gleeful shouting. Suddenly the front door opened and a burly man with greying tawny hair stood there, laughing.

  ‘I thought you two were supposed to be ill!’

  ‘Daddy! Daddy!’ The boys scrambled down to run to their father as their mother came flying downstairs, weariness forgotten.

  ‘Thank God—the cavalry,’ said Luke fervently, helping Saskia to her feet.

  ‘Darling!’ said Marina, in her husband’s embrace. ‘You came early!’

  ‘And not a moment too soon, by the look of things.’ Professor Armytage looked from his grinning, dishevelled son to his equally untidy, giggling stepdaughter. He kissed Saskia and shook Luke by the hand, his blue eyes bright. ‘My thanks to you both. One way and another, I’m very glad to be home.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  LUKE and Saskia set off for London through a misty autumn afternoon the following day, well aware that they’d left a very surprised pair of parents behind them.

  ‘Dad’s very pleased about the ceasefire,’ commented Luke, grinning.

  ‘So’s Mother.’ Saskia paused. ‘Would they be just as pleased if they knew…?’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘Exactly what kind of a ceasefire it is.’

  ‘You mean my aim to exchange the role of stepbrother for lover,’ he stated baldly.

  He threw down the words like a gauntlet, but she made no protest. There was no point in trying to delude herself that she disapproved. She had imagined herself in love with Francis. But that had been self-delusion built on his flattering, all-out pursuit, and the glamour of his lifestyle. And now she felt embarrassed by the memory of it. Because she knew perfectly well that Francis, in common with all other men of her acquaintance, had, at best, served as a substitute for Luke.

  Her youthful resentment of Luke’s charm and wry good looks would not have survived her adolescence if the ugly duckling had turned into a swan a bit sooner. But by then Luke had taken to avoiding her whenever possible, providing constant fuel for her resentment. Now, at last, she could acknowledge the fact that she had always loved him. That he was the only man in the world she wanted for lover, friend—even father of her children.

  The discovery held her rigid in her seat, staring blindly at the crowded road in front of them.

  ‘What is it?’ said Luke sharply. ‘Do you feel ill?’

  ‘No,’ she said with effort. ‘Not ill.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m just a bit tired after the exertions of the past couple of days.’

  ‘Hardly surprising. You were brilliant with Jonty and Matt,’ he commented. ‘Dad was very grateful you went up to lend a hand.’

  ‘In future I’ll make a point of going up to Oxford more often.’ She flushed. ‘I know you do, of course. But in the past I—’

  ‘Kept out of my way,’ he said, resigned, and gave her a swift look. ‘Do I take it things are different now?’

  ‘Yes. Very different.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘By the way, I may know of a job for you. I meant to tell you about it before, but I got sidetracked.’

  ‘Really?’ Saskia turned to him eagerly. ‘Where? What?’

  ‘During my hunt for furniture I’ve become quite friendly with a couple who run a large antiques business near my Kensington branch—furniture, porcelain and so on. Their right-hand woman is leaving to have a baby, and they need someone in her place. So far they’ve had lots of applicants, but no one suitable, so I told them about you.’

  ‘I don’t know much about antiques,’ said Saskia doubtfully.

  ‘They wouldn’t mind that. They’re more keen on having someone presentable who fits in. She needs to be computer literate, able to cope with correspondence and accounts, and occasionally even to cope front of shop with clients.’ Luke gave her a swift smile. ‘I thought all that sounded exactly like you, Sassy. It would mean a drop in salary, of course. They couldn’t match your city bank.’

  ‘I’m prepared for that. When could I see them?’

  ‘I made a date provisionally for tomorrow, before you start back to the grind. The other girl won’t be leaving for a month, so if it comes off you’d have time to give in your notice.’ He glanced at her. ‘That’s an odd look on your face, Sassy.’

  She smiled. ‘I was just thinking that a couple of weeks ago I was all set to begin a smart new life with Francis Lawford in his smart riverside apartment, carrying on with my smart city job. And now look at me—contemplating a drop in salary and about to move in with the man most people think of as my brother.’

  He reached for her hand. ‘It’s rather fun to possess our own special secret. Let’s keep it that way for the time being, Sassy—give our nearest and dearest time to adjust.’

  She slid further down in her seat, her pulse racing at his touch. ‘I still can’t quite believe it, Lucius Armytage.’

  ‘Neither can I,’ he said, and put his hand back on the wheel, breathing in deeply. ‘But at the moment it’s best I don’t even think about it in this blasted traffic. Everyone in Britain seems to be converging on London.’

  When they eventually arrived at the house, this time by the more prosaic back entrance, Luke switched on lights in the kitchen, then made several trips out to the car until everything was inside. ‘Right, then, Sassy. Let’s get this lot upstairs. I haven’t changed your bed. I thought you wouldn’t mind sleeping in the other stuff since you were only here one night.’

  ‘Not in the least,’ she assured him, oddly reassured. If he had plans for rushing her into his own bed they were apparently not to be put into action straight away. She went ahead of him up to the guest room, then exclaimed in surprise at seeing a satinwood wardrobe standing against one wall, looking very much at home with the beautiful bed and the mirror. ‘Goodness, how did you manage that?’

  ‘I found it at the Harpers’ place when I got back from Italy, which is how I heard about the job. They managed to get it delivered by Friday. Do you like it?’

  ‘It’s perfect’ She smiled at him rather awkwardly. ‘I’m putting you to a lot of expense.’

  He shook his head, grinning. ‘Marina, not you. Guests, she informed me, need somewhere to hang their clothes.’

  By the time Saskia had unpacked, Luke pronounced himself hungry.

  ‘
After all that lunch?’ quizzed Saskia, going downstairs.

  ‘I could do with a sandwich, at least. Come down to the kitchen.’

  Now that she was actually here, officially committed to living in Luke’s house, Saskia was conscious of a faint feeling of constraint.

  ‘What’s up?’ said Luke quickly as he took food from the box Marina had provided. ‘Having second thoughts?’

  ‘No.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘It’s just that I’m not sure how you want things to be between us.’

  He looked up with a very direct green gaze. ‘I thought I’d made that clear in the car.’

  Saskia seized a loaf of bread, and took a knife from the block to hack off a thick, very untidy slice. ‘I didn’t mean that part of it. What I’m trying to say is that I feel a bit obligated, living here rent-free. Shall I cook for you at night? Or do you eat out? And there’s laundry and so on.’

  Luke took the knife from her and put a hand either side of her waist to set her on the counter. ‘I haven’t installed you here as a sort of free domestic help, Sassy. I’ve been looking after myself for years. Mrs B sees to the chores twice a week, irons my shirts and even does some basic shopping for me. The rest I acquire in whatever type of food emporium I’m nearest when I finish for the day. Does that answer your question?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘It’s very simple.’ Suddenly he pulled her forward into his arms, and kissed her hard. ‘I just want you here with me, Sassy. In my house—and in my bed.’

  Taken by surprise, Saskia responded with such fervour that he pulled her closer and kissed her even harder, his breathing suddenly ragged as her mouth and tongue surrendered very explicitly to his. She felt a wave of heat rise in his body, igniting fire in her own. His lips moved hungrily over her face, and he began unbuttoning her shirt, his hands clumsy in his haste instead of the practised speed she would have expected.

  Saskia’s head went back involuntarily as his mouth found her throat in a series of descending kisses, his fingers caressing her breasts with an urgency she responded to feverishly, her own fingers digging into the muscles of his neck and shoulders. She felt the muscles grow taut beneath her touch, her stomach tensing in response as he fumbled with the buckle of her belt. Then he stopped abruptly, and lifted her down.

  ‘Not here,’ Luke said huskily. He took her hand and led her swiftly up the kitchen stairs, then cursed violently as the doorbell rang when they reached the hall.

  Saskia dodged into Luke’s study as he went to open the door. She rebuckled her belt with trembling fingers and did up her shirt, hoping his visitor would go away quickly—then tensed as an all-too-familiar voice joined with Luke’s. Francis! She stared round wildly, like a child looking for a place to bide. Francis, just as she expected, was asking if Luke knew where she was.

  ‘I rang earlier,’ she heard him say.

  ‘I’ve only just come in,’ said Luke coolly. ‘I haven’t checked my messages.’

  Saskia’s first instinct was to lie low and hope Luke would send Francis away. Then she thought better of it. Time to behave like a responsible adult.

  ‘Hello, Francis,’ she said casually, strolling into the hall, where Luke was standing near the door in a way intended to discourage the visitor from any inclination to linger.

  Francis was dressed in one of his more casual designer suits, with a silk shirt open at the collar in deference to a non-working day. His dark hair was slightly windblown, but otherwise he looked like an advertisement from a magazine, marred only by the look of incredulity on his spectacularly handsome face.

  ‘Saskia?’ He started forward, hands outstretched, then stopped in his tracks as Luke moved swiftly to stand by her side. ‘Where in hell have you been, Saskia?’ Francis demanded angrily. ‘I came here tonight as a last resort, just in case Armytage knew where you were.’

  ‘I’ve been away,’ she said evenly.

  ‘I discovered that much from your parents. They refused to tell me where.’ His eyes swivelled from her flushed face to Luke’s. ‘This was the last place I expected to find you.’

  ‘Why?’ said Luke.

  ‘Oh, come on, Armytage,’ said Francis derisively. ‘You know why.’

  ‘You mean because I’m the wicked stepbrother?’ Luke exchanged a fleeting smile with Saskia.

  Francis ignored him pointedly, and held out a hand to Saskia. ‘I think I’m entitled to an explanation. I want a word. Preferably in private.’

  ‘Do you want that, Sassy?’ enquired Luke.

  ‘Not a lot,’ she said frankly. ‘But I suppose I owe Francis that much. If you don’t mind I’ll take him into your study for a few minutes.’

  He nodded. ‘Right. I’ll be close by. Within earshot,’ he added.

  When he and Saskia were alone in the study Francis closed the door very deliberately. Saskia perched on Luke’s desk, her long, denim-clad legs swinging as she smiled at him in polite enquiry. ‘So, what did you want to talk about?’

  ‘You know damn well,’ he retorted, advancing on her.

  ‘Where the devil did you go? And why? Didn’t it occur to you that I might be off my head with worry? What possessed you to vanish like that?’

  ‘I went to Tuscany,’ said Saskia, and proceeded to give him, in succinct detail, the reasons for her flight. During the account of her brief visit to his apartment, Francis turned a fiery red.

  ‘It meant nothing!’ he broke in. ‘I had lunch with Amanda, then we went back to the flat to sign papers, and so on—’

  ‘It was the “so on” I walked in on,’ said Saskia caustically.

  ‘It was impulse—an isolated incident. It won’t happen again!’ he assured her, and reached for her, but she brought up a knee and wreathed her hands around it, effectively discouraging him from getting too close.

  ‘It doesn’t matter to me if it does,’ she said calmly. ‘I admit I was horribly upset at the time, but a large part of that was embarrassment. Rather to my shame I recovered very rapidly. The worst part of it all, in some ways, was having sublet my flat Luke is putting me up until I find somewhere else.’

  Francis began to argue urgently, to persuade her that they could go back to the way things had been, telling her that he loved her, that it was immature to let one isolated incident with Amanda wreck what they had together.

  ‘It’s not fair, Saskia. I let you call the tune to show you were something special in my life,’ he said with increasing passion. ‘You wouldn’t go to bed with me until things were settled between us, and I respected that. But, looking back, I’m amazed I was so bloody patient. Is it any wonder I gave in to Amanda that day? If you’d been more amenable in the same department—’

  ‘Ah. So it was my fault! How stupid of me not to realise that.’ She eyed him scornfully. ‘Come off it, Francis. Be honest. I was there that day. You were in a tearing hurry to get Amanda to bed.’

  ‘So what? That part of our marriage, if nothing else, was always good. It didn’t mean anything.’ He stared at her uncomprehendingly. ‘Are you actually telling me it’s over between us due to something stupid like that?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said flatly. ‘I am. Because it opened my eyes. For me, making love does have to mean something. My little holiday gave me time to think. It finally dawned on me that if I’d really been in love with you I would have wanted to go to bed with you from the first.’

  His face took on an ugly look. ‘You hellish little teaser!’ He moved towards her with menace. ‘I’ve a good mind—’

  ‘No, you don’t,’ growled Luke from the doorway, and Francis backed away, scowling.

  Luke lifted Saskia from the desk and put an arm round her. ‘Are you all right?’

  She smiled up at him in reassurance. ‘Fine. Francis was just leaving.’

  Francis, however, when they eventually had attention to spare for him, was watching them with dawning comprehension. ‘So that’s it!’ he sneered, and eyed Saskia in furious disgust. ‘You had the nerve to sermonise to me for making love
with my ex-wife, when all the time your filthy little game was incest?’

  Whereupon Luke’s fist connected with Francis’s angry face, and sent him sprawling through the doorway into the hall, flat on his back.

  ‘I’ll have you for that, Armytage,’ Francis howled as he scrambled to his feet.

  ‘Come on, then,’ invited Luke, advancing on him. ‘No time like the present.’

  Francis gave him a glare of pure malevolence. ‘I meant the law, Armytage. I’ll prosecute. Better still I’ll cancel your contract with my restaurants.’

  ‘You mean your father’s restaurants,’ corrected Luke, opening the door. ‘Get out, Lawford. Otherwise I’ll bring in the law, and have you up for trespass.’

  Francis brushed past him, then turned in the doorway, smoothing back his hair as he eyed Saskia in appeal. ‘You really mean to stay here—with him?’

  ‘For the time being, yes. I should get something to put on that eye,’ she added kindly. ‘Ice at the very least.’

  Luke shut the door on their visitor’s incensed, rapidly discolouring face, and took Saskia in his arms. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, muffled against his shirt-front. Then she looked up at him with sudden anxiety. ‘But Francis was a good customer. Will it affect you very much if he does withdraw his order?’

  ‘Not enough to put me out of business,’ he assured her.

  ‘But it was a big order. I should know; he told me often enough! And you’ve just bought this place, and you haven’t furnished it properly yet. Let me ask Francis to reconsider—’ She halted at the look in his eyes. “What’s so funny?’

  ‘I wouldn’t describe it as “funny” exactly,’ he said, taking her by the hand. ‘Do you honestly think Francis would listen to you, under the circumstances?’

  ‘I suppose not—where are you taking me?’

  ‘To bed.’

  They were halfway up the stairs when the phone rang. Luke threw up his hands in despair. ‘Is there a conspiracy against us?’

  He raced with her up to the bedroom and picked up the telephone alongside his bed, pulling Saskia down to lie beside him. ‘Oh, sorry, Marina. We were late getting in, then Saskia’s ex-friend Lawford called round—no, no, she’s fine. I’ll call her.’ He held the phone away for a moment, his hand over the receiver, grinning down into Saskia’s scarlet face, then passed it over to her for a chat—which became increasingly difficult as Luke began unbuttoning her shirt while she was trying to talk.