Philip, usually the calmest of men, sat fidgeting beside his best man, looking as nervous as a first-time bridegroom, and a young woman in a ravishing hat leant over the pew to whisper encouragement and give him a kiss. On the stroke of two the organ began the wedding march and Frances, radiant in her white dress and elegant lace jacket, came down the aisle on her father’s arm, followed by Philip’s beaming seven-year-old granddaughter in sapphire-blue velvet.
‘Frances looks so elegant,’ whispered Helen beside her. ‘I can see why she wanted to wear that jacket.’
The ceremony had ended and the smiling bride and groom were halfway down the aisle to the strains of Wagner before Avery discovered a familiar figure standing a few pews behind her, and she promptly dropped her small black clutch purse to give herself time to recover.
Frances had made no mention of inviting Jonas.
Outside in the cold winter sunshine there was the usual photo shoot, which included the bride’s request for an Avery Alterations group photograph. When Avery took her place next to Frances, with Helen and Louise on either side, she was burningly conscious of Jonas, but he seemed unaware of her as he talked to Tom Bennett and Andy Collins.
‘You were pretty secretive about the guest-list,’ she muttered to the bride, and Frances smiled, unrepentant.
‘So sue me. It’s my wedding. You can’t be cross with me today.’
‘Smile!’ ordered the photographer.
When the photo shoot was over, and the bride and groom had driven off to the reception, Jonas finally came to join Avery.
‘Hello,’ she said, smiling brightly. ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘Frances advised against telling you in advance.’ His answering smile was cool. ‘Would you have developed a mysterious illness if you’d known?’
‘And spoil the bride’s day? Of course not.’
‘You look beautiful,’ he said quietly.
Avery had bought a white wool jacket from Christine to wear with the black dress Jonas had once described as plain and perfect. She’d pulled her hair back into its usual severe twist, but softened the effect with a frivolous trifle of a black hat decorated with waving fronds.
‘You look good, too,’ she returned.
He gave her a mocking smile as cars began to leave. ‘Tom said there was no point in packing five of you into his car, so he asked me to chauffeur you to the Angel. Is that all right with you?’
‘Of course. Thank you.’ Avery smiled frostily. ‘These shoes weren’t made for walking.’
The drive was short, and the atmosphere so constrained in the car that Avery yearned to switch the radio on to compensate for the lack of conversation. When they arrived at the Angel Avery hurried through the hotel foyer to the small private dining room hired for the occasion, and pinned on a bright smile as they went inside. She threw her arms round Frances and kissed her affectionately.
‘Be happy, Mrs Lester. Congratulations, Mr Lester.’ She kissed Philip in turn, Jonas added his own congratulations, and after introductions to each set of parents Avery suggested they join Helen and Louise and their husbands. She felt quite proud of herself as she sipped champagne and talked and laughed so normally with the others she felt she deserved an Oscar.
Philip and Frances had invited so few guests it was more like an intimate party than a wedding reception, and although Jonas had to field questions about the progress of the cinema complex at first, eventually he made it clear he preferred to pay attention to Philip’s daughter Verity, on one side, and Avery, on the other. Speeches were made and toasts drunk, and after the cake had been cut the bride and groom came to talk to everyone in turn, both of them so obviously happy Avery felt a pang of envy as she laughed and chatted with her friend and teased her about being an instant grandma.
‘She doesn’t look the part, does she?’ agreed Verity, laughing. ‘Lucy thinks it’s so cool to have a grandma she calls by her first name.’
In the foyer later, after the bride and groom had been seen off for the first stage of their trip in a shower of rice and confetti, Avery turned to Helen and Louise with a rueful smile.
‘Weddings are tiring.’
‘But it’s too early to go home; come and have a drink in the bar—unless you’ve got a better offer,’ whispered Helen as Jonas came towards them.
‘Avery, do you need a lift home?’ he asked. ‘I’m driving back to London.’
‘You’re going back tonight?’ she said, surprised.
‘Afraid so.’
‘Then, thank you. I was just about to call a taxi.’
After a round of leave-taking they finally emerged, shivering, into an icy wind that threatened Avery’s hat.
‘The wedding invitation came as quite a surprise,’ said Jonas, as he saw her into his car. ‘I need your advice on a suitable present.’
‘Tricky with a second marriage,’ said Avery, grateful for a topic of conversation. ‘Philip’s a barbecue man in the summer, so maybe some new garden furniture, or a big stone pot with an unusual plant. If you like I’ll consult Frances when she gets back and let you know.’
‘You’re actually volunteering to communicate with me?’ he asked, in a tone which silenced Avery very effectively for the rest of the journey.
When they arrived at the house he surprised her by turning into the drive instead of parking in the road. He gave her a mocking smile as he switched off the ignition.
‘You’d better ask me in, otherwise all Frances’s efforts to play Cupid will have been in vain. Or do I mean Fairy Godmother?’
‘I rather think that’s the Tremaynes’ role,’ said Avery, startling him. ‘Come in if you want.’
She ran to the front door, hanging on to her hat in a wind that felt as though it came straight from Siberia. Once inside the house she unpinned the feather-trimmed scrap of velvet and put it in the tissue-lined hatbox lying open on the hall table.
‘I hired the hat for the occasion,’ she explained as Jonas closed the door behind him. ‘It goes back in the morning.’
‘Never mind the hat. What’s this about the Tremaynes?’
‘I’ll explain after I’ve made tea—or would you prefer coffee?’ asked Avery. ‘I’d better not offer you a drink if you’re driving.’
‘I don’t want anything,’ he said impatiently.
‘Come in here, then.’ She led him into the study, pulling a face as a sudden fusillade of rain battered the French windows. ‘Frances was lucky this held off until now. Your drive home won’t be very pleasant.’
‘I’ll cope,’ he said, shrugging.
‘Excuse me for a moment, I won’t be long,’ said Avery. She ran upstairs to exchange her jacket for a thick scarlet cardigan and shivered as the wind hurled icy rain against the windows. She wished now that she’d come home alone by taxi when she’d had the chance, instead of coping with Jonas Mercer in his present mood. When she steeled herself to go downstairs again he was slumped in a corner of the sofa, staring into the unlit fire. He got up punctiliously as she went in the room, but she waved him back to his seat and took the other corner of the sofa, making a note to invest in a new chair soon to avoid intimacy of this kind in future.
‘Are you sure I can’t give you some coffee?’ she said politely.
Jonas eyed her coldly. ‘No, Avery. I want to know what the hell you meant about the Tremaynes.’
‘Hetty came to my shop to get a dress repaired, but that was just an excuse to meet me,’ she began, and told him the entire story.
Jonas heard her out in silence, his face inscrutable. When Avery came to a stop he smiled derisively. ‘Hetty and Charlie, not to mention my lady mother, have been remarkably busy on my behalf. Busy, but unsuccessful,’ he added. ‘If the Tremaynes asked you to contact me they failed in their mission.’
Avery shrugged. ‘I didn’t promise anything. After all, it’s been a long time since we last spoke, Jonas. I assumed you’d—well, moved on.’
‘Moved on?’ he repeated without inflection
. ‘That’s not far wrong, I suppose. A man can only grovel so much. You made it clear last time we spoke that nothing I could say or do would put things right between us.’
‘So why did you come to the wedding?’ she demanded.
‘To please Frances,’ he informed her, deflating her very effectively. ‘I came to make sure nothing spoiled her wedding day.’
Avery raised a supercilious eyebrow. ‘Why would your absence do that?’
‘Frances enclosed a note with her invitation, saying it would be good for Avery to have a friend for company at the reception. The tone of the note made it plain that Frances wanted that very much, even if you didn’t, so I accepted the invitation.’
So Jonas hadn’t come in the hope of reconciliation today, after all. ‘It was very good of you to spare the time,’ said Avery, flinching as another onslaught battered the windows.
‘By the sound of it I’d better be on my way.’ Jonas got up.
Avery hugged the cardigan round her as she preceded him out of the room. In unbroken silence they walked the length of the hall, but when Avery opened the front door Jonas swore volubly and they looked out into a wild, white night. A layer of hail had blown into the porch and now snow was falling in a thick, obliterating curtain, driven across the garden by the rising wind.
‘That was hail we heard, not rain,’ said Avery, and slammed the door shut. ‘Now it’s turned to a blizzard. You can’t possibly drive to London in this weather, so you’d better stay the night. Don’t worry,’ she added, ‘I’m not trying to lure you into my bed.’
‘I didn’t think so for a moment,’ he said suavely. ‘I don’t jump to conclusions any more.’
Their eyes met and held for a moment. ‘You can sleep in the spare room at the front,’ said Avery at last.
‘Thank you.’ He smiled for the first time since their arrival. ‘I’ve offered to often enough before.’
She nodded briskly. ‘But it’s early yet. Let’s have something to eat. I’m hungry.’
‘You ate so little at the reception I’m not surprised. My presence was the appetite depressant, I assume?’
‘Not at all. It was the chef’s way with local salmon. I prefer mine out of a tin. But that’s a deadly secret,’ she warned lightly.
Jonas looked amused. ‘I won’t rat on you.’
Feeling a little easier, Avery went towards the kitchen. ‘Perhaps you’d put a match to the fire while I throw some sandwiches together.’
She worked quickly, not sure whether she was grateful or sorry for the quirk of fate that had handed her this unexpected time with Jonas. When she’d turned to see him in the church her heart had missed a beat and she’d taken it for granted, right up to a few minutes ago, that he’d accepted the invitation just to meet up with her again. She’d even prepared a graceful little speech, informing him that if he’d come on her account his mission had been in vain. But Jonas had come for no other reason than to please Frances. Whatever the Tremaynes might think, he was working hard because he enjoyed doing it, or the job demanded it, or for any number of reasons other than languishing over Avery Crawford.
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE constraint between them gradually eased as they ate supper in front of the fire. The conversation centred on the wedding during the meal, but when Avery handed Jonas a mug of coffee afterwards she took the bull by the horns.
‘You’re angry with me.’
He shook his head. ‘With myself, not you, Avery. I could have answered Frances with a polite little note of regret, asked Hannah to order some expensive trifle as a present—’
‘Who’s Hannah?’
‘I inherited her from my father. She’s my assistant.’ Jonas turned to look at her, his eyes glittering between the spiky lashes. ‘Not the new woman in my life, unfortunately.’
‘Why? Doesn’t she like you?’
‘Hannah is almost old enough to be my mother and has a husband and two teenage sons. She’s also so efficient I’d go down on my knees and beg if she tried to resign.’
‘Oh.’
‘I said unfortunately,’ he repeated with emphasis, ‘because I don’t have a new woman in my life. You were a hard act to follow. But,’ he added, before Avery could say anything, ‘life’s been too hectic to waste it on useless regrets. Like a sensible chap I knuckled down to the clean break you’re so fond of. Then like a fool I turned up to the wedding today.’
‘You made Frances happy,’ said Avery quietly. ‘And until she comes back from Barbados she won’t know that her stratagem failed.’
Jonas gazed moodily into the fire. ‘I was doing fine until I saw you today. I’d persuaded myself I didn’t want you any more, but one look and I knew I’d been fooling myself. God knows why,’ he added, eyeing her moodily. ‘It’s bloody hard work trying to have a relationship with you, and with your hair scraped back like that you’re not even beautiful.’
‘Compared with Hetty Tremayne I’m a complete turn-off,’ agreed Avery tartly.
‘Not to me, more’s the pity. Tell me the truth, Avery,’ he asked abruptly, ‘have you thawed towards me?’
She nodded slowly. ‘Yes.’
‘How much?’
‘Completely.’
‘Then why the hell didn’t you get in touch?’
‘Why the hell didn’t you?’ she snapped.
He glared at her. ‘You told me to get lost!’
Avery backed down. ‘I intended to ring you. I had Frances pressuring me to do it, as well as Hetty Tremayne. But in the end I decided against it. Same old reasons.’
‘Oh, God, are we back to the subject of progeny again?’
‘Afraid so.’ Avery got up. ‘I’m off to put sheets on the spare bed.’
‘Can I help?’
‘No, thanks. I can manage.’
‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ he said wearily.
Avery collected linen and towels from the airing cupboard and drew the curtains in the spare room to shut out the howling white night. She made up the bed and went downstairs again, and heard Jonas talking on his cellphone in the study. She backed out hurriedly and retreated to the kitchen, wishing vainly that they could go back to the brief, halcyon period of their relationship before Paul’s deliberate malice had ruined everything.
When Avery returned to the study Jonas was in his former place on the sofa. He retracted his long legs for her to pass him, and she sat down again in her corner.
‘The bed’s done, and I’ve put towels and a spare toothbrush in the bathroom,’ she informed him.
Jonas eyed her quizzically. ‘Efficient! Even to the spare toothbrush ready for unexpected male guests.’
‘I don’t have male guests, but I always have spare toothbrushes. I just can’t resist “three for the price of two” offers in the Stow Street chemist,’ she told him, unmoved.
‘I’m glad,’ he said soberly.
‘That I have spare toothbrushes?’
‘That I’m the only man to enjoy a sleepover here.’
‘You don’t appear to be enjoying this one very much!’
He smiled crookedly. ‘You’re wrong there. I’m just too bloody-minded to show it. That was my mother on the phone, by the way. Dad heard about the weather conditions up here. She was very relieved when I told her I was staying the night.’
‘Did you say where?’
Jonas shook his head. ‘No point in getting her hopes up. Hetty’s probably described you to her in detail by now. If Mother knew I was sleeping here tonight she’d start listening for the patter of tiny feet.’
Avery turned away sharply, and Jonas put a hand out to touch hers.
‘Sorry. I’m a tactless swine.’
She shrugged. ‘No point in pussyfooting around the subject.’
He sat staring at his shoes for some time, and then turned to look at her. ‘Avery.’
She tensed, her antennae instantly erect. ‘Yes?’
‘I’ve done a lot of thinking over the past few weeks. Mainly at night,’ he
admitted. ‘Mercom takes up all my waking hours.’
‘So Charlie Tremayne said.’
‘He means well.’
‘I know.’
The dark-fringed eyes locked with hers. ‘Do you want to hear the conclusion to all this thinking?’
Avery licked her tongue round suddenly dry lips. ‘I’m not sure that I do,’ she said warily.
‘It’s perfectly simple. We adopt a child. More than one, if you want—’
‘No!’ She shook her head vehemently.
Jonas remained surprisingly calm. ‘Does that mean you don’t want to adopt, or that the things I said—and immediately regretted—are still a barrier between us?’
‘I flew off the handle at first, but I’m over the second bit now.’
‘Is that the truth?’
‘Gospel,’ she assured him.
‘Then it’s the adoption you can’t agree to?’
‘Yes.’
‘So it’s back to square one.’ He sat silent for a while, his eyes on the flames. ‘I lied, Avery,’ he said abruptly.
‘About what?’
He turned to look at her. ‘I turned up today with the express purpose of seeing you. I knew damn well I’d been invited as your partner. And to keep Frances happy I knew you’d have to play along.’
She eyed him militantly. ‘If you came just to see me you didn’t show it!’
‘Because the moment I saw you again I was furious about the time we’re wasting apart. Instead of kissing you senseless I wanted to wring your neck.’ He gave her the sudden, bone-dissolving smile which kept her awake at night. ‘Guess which one I want to do right now.’
Avery scrambled to her feet, warding him off as he leapt up to join her. ‘No, Jonas. There’s no point. You could kiss me, and I’d kiss you back and so on, but afterwards we’d still be at square one.’
He stood back. ‘You’re right,’ he said promptly, taking the wind out of her sails.
Her response had been knee-jerk retaliation for his attitude earlier on. But he could have tried a bit harder, she thought resentfully, and turned away to rake the fire to ashes. ‘You go on up. I’ll see to the alarm and the lights.’
Their Scandalous Affair Page 16