‘So it is…’
Gulls flew inland to escape the storm. Spray from the black rocks flew high as the sea rushed in faster. Clouds darkened ominously overhead and as she looked up into Jared’s face she saw that darkness echoed in his eyes.
‘The Manor.’ He stared over her head. ‘I haven’t seen it in over twenty years.’
Clara watched him but he did not watch her. He watched the house. Its crumbling walls and windows seemed to watch him too, as though they had been waiting for him to arrive home.
‘It’s in a terrible state,’ Clara said, to dispel the atmosphere.
‘Oh, yes. Locked up. Shut down.’ His voice deepened. ‘And frozen in time like us—like all of us. Everything stopped that day. Everything…’
She stroked his cold cheek, trying to get him to look at her, not his nemesis. ‘What day, darling? When did everything stop?’
He continued to watch the house. ‘Which room did you sleep in? Does it face the sea?’
‘Yes. It faces the sea that way.’ She pointed across the lawns to the grey wrath of the water. ‘It has a four-poster bed and a balcony.’
His hands tightened on her body. ‘Is it a blue room? With a painting of a woman on the wall? Just above the fireplace…a dark-haired woman in sapphires?’
Shivering again, she said, ‘No, it’s lemon-yellow. And there are no paintings in it.’ The description of the woman sounded like his mother. She would have been younger then. Had Owain had a portrait done during their affair or afterwards? It was difficult to work out the time scale because Jared simply wouldn’t answer straight questions and she didn’t know what happened after the affair ended.
‘At least he had some shred of decency, then,’ Jared said under his breath, startling her. ‘I’d begun to doubt that when I heard you were staying here. I thought maybe he’d put you straight into the room, that blue bedroom with the portrait…’ His voice faded into the storm.
Clara asked softly, ‘Is that the room where your mother—?’
‘Have you been in any other rooms?’
She stared for a second, then said patiently, ‘No, just the dining room. Oh—and the hall.’
He went very pale. He gazed at the house in silence. What was he thinking? Her arms held him tighter, as though trying to blend with him and reach his secret heart. The wind battered at them as he bent his head to kiss her cheek.
‘All right, darling?’ she whispered.
‘I can’t believe I’m actually here,’ he said thickly. ‘With the scent of Rhossana all around me and the sea breeze in my hair.’
‘How does it feel?’
‘I don’t want to stay here. I’ll move us both out now. Today.’ He looked away from her, back at the house. ‘Don’t tell me the hotels are booked. I’ll get them unbooked, no matter what I have to offer. You know as well as I do that money—enough money—can buy anything. Where’s Harrison?’
‘In the dining room eating his breakfast.’
‘The dining room?’ He relaxed fractionally. ‘That’s at the back, isn’t it? And there are French windows. I remember. We can easily walk round and get in that way, can’t we?’
Without another word he took her hand and strode across the lawns towards the rear of the Manor. Clara could not shake the feeling that it watched him as closely as he watched it. Like an old friend welcoming him home after a terrible argument, it seemed to have such strong living presence that she saw it as battered, broken and in need of help. Like someone in a time-warp and just waiting for the one person who can help them out of it. And she was so certain that Jared was the one this house needed. She could almost hear it whispering his name with pleasure as the storm rushed around the eaves, the pillars, the long wide windows.
Jared seemed aware of it too as he walked towards it. Only he did not feel pleased to see his old friend again. Every line of his face was tense with hostile rejection as he made his way across the lawns to the back of the house.
‘Mr Blackheath!’ Harrison’s voice called suddenly.
They both stopped, looked towards the front door and saw Harrison standing there. He waved cheerfully in his chauffeur’s uniform. Jared’s fingers tightened in Clara’s.
‘Damn it.’ He went even paler than before as he was forced to change direction and walk towards the front door.
He stumbled.
‘Darling—!’ Clara stared up in concern.
‘The grass was damp, don’t make a fuss!’ he bit out thickly, but his skin reddened and he avoided her eyes before carrying on determinedly until they reached the white steps at the front of the house.
He stopped dead at the steps. He stood facing the sea as though refusing point-blank to even glance inside the open doorway and Clara suddenly realised why.
It’s the hall, she thought. He’s avoiding the hall. But why? Staring in, she saw the chandelier wink at her as it moved in the wind, yellowing crystal tinkling.
‘Yes, sir?’ Harrison asked.
‘Get Miss Maye’s case from upstairs,’ Jared said without looking at him. ‘She’s leaving. So are you. I’ll get us all booked into a hotel before nightfall.’
‘My case is packed and ready.’ Clara tried to be helpful to speed up the process for them all. ‘I left it on the floor next to the bed.’
‘Right you are, miss.’ Harrison looked perplexed but didn’t argue, simply turned and went up the shabby staircase.
Jared remained where he was, monolithic, expressionless and staring at the grey seas. He was too distressed, clearly, to answer any more searching questions. And she didn’t want to upset him even more, certainly not until they were alone. She would ask him later, if at all. Meanwhile, she gave him her silent support, holding his arm and cuddling up to him with her blonde head on his dark shoulder. She too gazed out to sea and wondered what traumas this house had witnessed in its mysterious past.
‘Sorry I was so long, sir.’ Harrison came clattering down the stairs with the cases. ‘Had to get my case, too. Hadn’t even packed it. Then I forgot my shaving kit and had to go back. Mrs H always says I’d forget my own head if it wasn’t screwed on.’
‘For once I agree with her,’ Jared drawled with an attempt at humour. He turned his back on the mournful house and the whispering hall. ‘Come on. Let’s get going.’
They walked to the limousine.
But at that moment another car came into sight. Clara looked up with a sinking heart to see Owain Llewellyn’s grey Bentley gliding towards them down that long tree-lined drive.
‘It’s him,’ Jared said under his breath, and stopped to stare at the car as it flashed into the cold grey light. ‘He must have heard the helicopter.’
She frowned. ‘But he was at the hospital, Jared. He wouldn’t have heard—’
‘This town is smaller than it looks, Clara.’ He gave a wintry smile. ‘How many helicopters do you think touch down on the lawns of the Manor every day?’
Reaching a standstill, the Bentley seemed ominous as the grey rear door clicked open. Owain Llewellyn stepped out. His pale eyes fixed on Jared in the same way Jared’s had fixed on the house. Clara wondered for the first time precisely how Owain felt about the affair which had wrecked Jared’s family when he was still a boy. It would have been easier to guess if she’d had more information.
Still impeccably dressed in black, Owain walked towards Jared. His silver hair blew around his once handsome face. The Manor seemed to hold its breath.
‘Mr Blackheath. What a pleasant surprise.’
‘A surprise? I doubt it. You either heard my helicopter or saw it.’
‘My chauffeur saw it. So did the nurses. I was told, yes. I came here at once.’
‘Wanted to see me standing here, did you?’
Winds battered at the trees on the estate and gulls cried overhead as Owain Llewellyn faced the powerful man that little eight-year-old Jared Blackheath had become.
‘It’s a sight I’ve wanted to see for years,’ Owain said. ‘And it gives me hop
e. All this could have been cleared up so long ago. You’re not the only one who suffered, Mr Blackheath. Not the only one who still suffers.’
Jared’s face was implacable. ‘I don’t doubt that you’ve suffered. But I don’t intend to take responsibility for it. I was eight years old. How old were you?’
‘You’re never too old to fall in love,’ he whispered.
‘Your mother did everything she could to stop herself loving me. And I tried to help her. I swear I didn’t touch her for the first two years. We both resisted, but in the end love was more powerful than either of us. We couldn’t help ourselves. We were swept away by the sheer force of the thing. Try to remember the temptations, Jared. Seeing each other for those two years, not being able to have each other, be with each other. When we finally gave in, the passion just drowned us both. We couldn’t think of anything but each other. We were selfish, I know, but it was love.’
‘Is that why you married another woman a year after your affair with my mother ended?’
Clara listened as impassively as she could. Carefully keeping her face free from expression, she took in every word without reacting to it. She knew she must stand by Jared, no matter how many skeletons came dancing out of the cupboards.
‘I remarried because your mother wouldn’t see me. She wouldn’t even speak to me. She was crucified by guilt. So was I. And waking up every morning in this damned house was more than I could bear.’
‘At least,’ said Jared, ‘you have the decency to admit that!’
‘I was haunted by what I’d done to you.’
Jared looked quickly away. That seemed more intolerable to him than anything else Owain had yet said.
‘But now—don’t you see?’ Owain stepped towards him. ‘It’s all come full circle. My grandson fell in love with the one woman who can bring us all together. We can heal the past now. All of us.’
Jared’s smile was cynical. ‘Is that why you gave them this house as a wedding present? To force me back down here, regardless of how long it took?’
Owain hesitated. ‘Yes…’
‘A wedding present? Do you really find that appropriate?’
‘They’re in love,’ Owain defended himself, but his skin reddened. ‘I know it must seem thoughtless, but only in the short term. They know nothing of what happened. They can only do good. They’ll bring hope and laughter back into the house.’
‘While my father—!’ Jared bit out hoarsely, then broke off.
The wind blew harsh and cold. The first faint specks of rain began to fall, just odd little dashes on the face, the hands, but enough to make them all look up to the overcast sky.
‘I’m ending this conversation,’ Jared said. ‘It’s gone far enough. Harrison—get in the car and start it. We’re leaving.’
‘Yes, sir!’ Harrison was round-eyed with fascination as he leapt to the driver’s door.
‘Mr Llewellyn.’ Jared arched cold brows at him. ‘I don’t wish to be rude, but I would prefer not to meet you again while I’m in Wales. Please time your visits to the hospital so they don’t coincide with mine. I suggest you discuss it with Gareth. And by the way— I also have no intention of ever visiting the Manor again. Ever.’ With a curt nod, he strode to the limousine.
Sliding into the grey leather seats, Clara was utterly silent. Her face was as expressionless, as it had been through the exchange, but her mind was racing.
‘Please…’ Owain followed them. ‘You can’t let it end like this.’
‘It ended thirty years ago.’ Jared got into the car, shut the door with a sharp thud and leaned forward to tell Harrison, ‘Take us to the hospital. Immediately.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And Harrison,’ he said as they pulled away, ‘if you remember one word of that conversation—you’re fired.’
‘Forgotten it already, sir.’
Jared leaned back against the seats tensely. They drove down the tree-lined drive as rain began to fall. The windscreen wipers were switched on smoothly. If Owain Llewellyn watched them go, Clara did not know it; she was too busy concentrating on Jared’s feelings.
Silently, she slipped her hand in his.
His fingers linked with hers, squeezed them tight. ‘Thank you. It must have been difficult to just stand there and say nothing.’
‘Not that difficult. I love you.’
He exhaled harshly and pulled her into his arms. The warmth of his body was at odds with the icy cold of his tough face and fingers. Clara buried her face in his neck, kissing him.
‘He’s such a very old man now,’ Jared murmured. ‘It was a shock to see him again at the wedding. But to see him on the steps of the Manor…’
‘If only I knew what else had happened there, darling,’ she ventured softly against the black material of his jacket, not risking eye contact in case he withdrew because of it. ‘If you ever want to tell me—’
‘No.’
She lifted her head, then, to look into his eyes, disappointed. He shot Harrison a brief glance and she realised as he looked back at her that his raised-brow expression meant he wouldn’t talk here.
Of course, she thought. Harrison had already seen and heard too much. Jared was a deeply private person, for all his fame. He lived behind a series of force fields, each one impenetrable and closely guarded. One by one, as his trust for Clara had grown, he had lifted each force field for her to step inside. He certainly had no intention of ever letting anyone else as close to him as she was.
Even though the screen could have protected him from being overheard, Harrison would know by the mere presence of that screen that Jared was deeply upset and talking about something very personal connected to the Manor and Llewellyn. This was a man who understood the minutiae of personal relationships. An odd quirk for someone so complex, so good at guarding his deepest secret. Only Clara was close enough to guess at it.
But how close am I? she wondered as they drove on. What really happened in that house to those people?
Soon they reached the hospital. Jared came in with her. He went white when he saw Susie. For thirty seconds he stood at her bedside, staring down in silence. Clara understood. It was a shock to see all those tubes and wires and bandages.
‘There aren’t many things money can’t buy,’ he said with husky regret. ‘But life is one of them.’ His hand took Susie’s. ‘She’s such a lovely girl. I can’t bear to see her like this. Why do these things always happen to the people one truly loves?’
Clara moved to stand beside him, kissed his handsome cheek. ‘It’s so wonderful to have you here, darling. I can’t tell you how much it means to me. How many other men would stop their whole world in order to come and help me save my best friend?’
‘Anyone with any decency,’ he said gently, and kissed her.
CHAPTER SIX
JARED found rooms for them at The Grange. A big country house converted into a hotel, it stood on the outskirts of the town in private grounds. He got a suite for himself and Clara and a double room for Harrison. It cost him a very large sum of money. He apparently gave the previous occupants enough for a five-star luxury cruise in the Caribbean, but it was worth it to ensure he and Clara didn’t have to spend a night at the Manor.
It was dark as they drove to the hotel. Ten-thirty and they were both very tired. Although the rain had started late afternoon, it had come in intermittent showers. Now the storm was about to break. Distant thunder rippled ever closer. Heavy rain cascaded down, hurtling against the windows of the limousine like gunfire. The windscreen wipers worked overtime. Lightning flared in the troubled night sky.
Jared held Clara in his arms in companionable silence. It was cosy in the rear seats. She felt like a little girl again, before the tragedy of the fire had taken her parents from her… She thought of security and the shattering of it. They had that in common, she and Jared. Both had lost a safe haven at the tender age of eight and been forced to carve their own niche in a crazy world. But how had Jared lost his security? She still didn
’t know the truth. All she knew was that it had something to do with that manor house. His true feelings towards it had been blindingly clear as he stood in front of it today. He was both frightened and angered by the sight of it. Most notably by the hallway. It was as though the very threshold of the house haunted him. Why?
Clara believed in fate. With every moment they spent here in Rhossana her belief grew stronger. It comforted her to think that way. If Susie’s accident had been an act of fate to bring Jared here, that meant that Susie would recover. It was only fate that she’d had the accident. That was all she could bear to believe, because if it wasn’t fate…
Shifting uneasily, Clara tried not to imagine the worst.
‘Darling?’ Jared murmured.
‘Just thinking about Susie.’ Her voice was husky. ‘I try not to even consider the possibility that she might die.’
‘Susie’s always been a fighter. She’ll pull through.’
‘Do you really think so?’
‘Life is too precious to her. She won’t just slip away into the dark without a struggle.’
Relief swamped her. ‘I’m so pleased you’re here, Jared. I don’t know how I’d cope with this if you weren’t.’
‘You know I’d never desert you. Or Susie.’
Tears blinded her briefly. Blinking them back, afraid to appear too emotional even though the strain on her over the last twenty-four hours had been enormous, Clara kissed him.
‘We’re too closely connected,’ Jared said against her lips. ‘All three of us. I know I’m not an orphan but I’ve always felt like one, and that makes the difference.’
‘I guess it does.’
‘When I first met you, every time I looked at you I thought: She has no one but me to protect her.’
Clara smiled, stroked his cheek with one hand. ‘Darling…’
‘I still think it from time to time. Not as much as when we first met. But often enough to remember I’m the only protection you’ve got.’
‘I think it’s strange that you identify with orphans when you are not, in fact, an orphan. Why is that, Jared? Is it something to do with your father’s death?’
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