Bachelor's Family

by Jessica Steele

  She did not do so, however. Oliver saw to that. Because of his proclivity to visit his lady-friends or to take himself off ratting when the mood was on him, the hedges in the garden had been wired, netted, and wired again. But he was a born escaper and, sensing he was being ignored when Fabienne's aunt and uncle paid them a visit, he tunnelled out and was discovered missing late that afternoon.

  'I'll go,' Fabienne volunteered, knowing her errand to find him could take hours, just as she knew that, left to his own devices, he would come home when he was good and ready. But that wasn't the point; Oliver was family. It was eight o'clock before she found him-as happy as Larry and wagging his tail-and half-past eight before she was ready to head back to Sutton Ash. 'Do you think you should ring to tell them what time to expect you?' her mother asked.

  'I've got a key, so it won't matter if I'm late back,' she assured them. Not much, she discovered, when she inserted her key in the rear door of Brackendale-and found that it would not open! For all that the outside light was on, the security lock was on. The door had been locked for the night-and she knew who had done it!

  Nothing like being made welcome, she fumed, and that was when all her pent-up feelings at the stiff and starchy, not to say hostile way Vere Tolladine was behaving reared up.

  It was touch and go, then, that she did not go back to her car and head straight back to Lintham. But there was her promise to John she'd see him first thing on Monday morning and-dammit-who did Vere Tolladine think he was, kissing her one minute and acting so downright anti the

  next? She stabbed a finger at the doorbell and pressed hard. Out of consideration for anyone who might be asleep, though, she felt obliged to take her finger off the bell after a second or two. She waited.

  She did not have to wait long, but her anger was in no way tempered when she heard the locking mechanism being released and then the door being opened.

  As she had suspected, Vere was still up and stood, chisel-featured, looking down at her. 'You did expect me to come back?' she charged shortly. 'At a reasonable hour,' he grated and impatiently stood aside for her to enter. Ye gods, Fabienne fumed as she crossed the threshold, some nights he did not come home until gone midnight! He was not, it seemed, of a mind to hang about to listen to any more of her sharp remarks, but secured the doors and, without a word of goodnight, went striding off up the hall, leaving her to take herself off to her bed.

  Ignorant swine, she chafed hotly and, having exchanged her weekend bag for a slightly larger case, case in hand, she went smartly after him.

  He was in his study, the other side of his desk and about to sit down when she went, without apology, straight in. Vere did not take his seat, however, nor did he this time wish her to be seated; she could tell that from the direct antagonistic look he threw her.

  'Well?' he rapped, and she wanted to hit him.

  She took a controlling breath. 'I am not,' she said distinctly, 'a tart.'

  His direct dark gaze seemed to her to become even more piercing. 'We've had this conversation before!' he clipped, unmistakably a man who wanted to get on with some work and had no time or inclination to go in for repeat conversations.

  Well, tough! 'Pardon me for being boring!' she flew. 'But last Wednesday you kissed me and ever since then-'

  'Last Wednesday I kissed you,' he agreed sharply, 'a peck, no more-and you, you came on to me in-' He broke off, those all-seeing dark eyes fixed nowhere but on her face. 'How odd you should blush,' he resumed, 'when-'

  'Damn you!' Fabienne flared, aware that her face was scarlet. But whose face wouldn't be, to be so accused? 'I've never "come on", as you call it, to any man in my life!'

  'You wouldn't call that kiss you gave me a-' he began to retort sceptically, but halted, and was still as he considered what she had just said. But, as ever, it did not take him long to weigh up the pros and cons, and scepticism was back with a vengeance when, 'You're a virgin?' he scoffed. Why the blazes she was suddenly afflicted with a massive propensity to blush defeated her as colour flared in her cheeks again. Although it was true he was the only man she knew who could make her so emotionally out of balance that any chance remark he made could trigger it.

  She picked up her suitcase, unaware that she had dropped it down, and with a lofty, 'Some of us are!' she did not deign to stay and argue with him, but turned about and went up to her room.

  Fabienne lay awake for a long time that night. She could not be sorry that she had let go with some of the anger that had been building up in her, but it had solved nothing. She had worked out for herself that Vere's hostile attitude had only come about since that kiss, and he, tonight, had just confirmed it.

  All too obviously he was regretting that 'peck' that had triggered her 'coming on' to him, cheeky swine, and was at pains to show her that all he wanted from her was a business relationship. He should be so lucky to think that she might want more! Pig!

  She was still awake an hour later, but by then some of her anger had mellowed and, having again been over everything that had been said, she supposed it wasn't every employee that told him 'Damn you' and remained on his payroll.

  Fabienne drifted off to sleep feeling no more comfortable to be living in a house where someone treated her so coolly, but if-despite this being his home and not his workplace-he wanted to be totally businesslike, then so be it. And who cared, anyhow? The wretched job was only temporary anyway.

  John came in to check that she was back early on Monday morning, and they shared a quick hug which she reckoned did her as much good as it did him-it was nice to know that somebody cared-and then it was action stations as the day got under way.

  'Good morning,' she greeted Vere without actually looking at him as she entered the breakfast-room, and thereafter ignored him. Well, not quite ignored, she amended, for the wretched man, she discovered, was impossible to ignore. But she was careful to keep her manner, if polite, otherwise aloof.

  Not that he seemed to notice, she thought crossly when, having exchanged barely a word with her, he passed a few comments with the twins, made a few pleasant remarks to them in parting, and left for his office. Fabienne was feeling decidedly out of sorts as she saw the children into the school playground. So much so that she seriously considered accepting Lyndon Davies' invitation to join him in a wine-bar in Haychester that evening. But, 'Sorry, Lyndon,' she smiled; to drown her sorrows was not her style. Besides which, what sorrows had she got, for goodness' sake? she wondered as she drove back to Brackendale. Compared to Rachel, her life was a doddle.

  Rachel, though, Fabienne discovered when she came out to her as she halted her car, seemed to have made more strides in getting better. 'Glad to see you

  back!' she smiled. 'And sorry I couldn't manage to get my head off the pillow to join you for breakfast.'

  'Don't worry about it,' Fabienne returned lightly. 'Fancy a run?'

  'Why not?'

  Rachel really was trying to be very positive, Fabienne saw, and half an hour later they were on their way to Haychester, Rachel of the opinion that she must do something to steer her daughter's tastes away from shocking-pink socks.

  In view of the fact that all Rachel's days might still be merging into one Fabienne tactfully held back on asking what sort of a weekend she'd had.

  When Rachel asked, she talked freely of her own weekend, though. 'Your family sound nice,' Rachel volunteered when she had finished telling her of her aunt and uncle's visit, and Oliver's escape in pique. 'They are-I'm lucky.' Fabienne smiled.

  'They're lucky, too,' Rachel stated, and Fabienne thought that that was very nice of her. Er--did you see anything of your brother over the weekend?' Fabienne shook her head. 'He had Philip for the weekend and they went off to do manly things together.'

  With Rachel saying that she was pleased about that they shopped for a few items of clothing for the twins, stopped for coffee, and then took advantage of the beautiful gardens near to the centre of Haychester, and of some summer sun.

  There were other like-m
inded people about, but no one sitting close by when Rachel suddenly said, 'I suppose what I should really be doing

  instead of sitting here is to go on to my own house and open it up to give it an airing.' This was positive stuff, indeed, but Fabienne, who knew so very little about depression, was overwhelmingly aware that she must tread very carefully. 'I'll-er--come with you any time if you like,' she offered quietly. 'Not yet!' Rachel immediately backed away from the idea. 'No hurry,' Fabienne replied easily.

  And all was quiet between them for about a minute and then Rachel, in a terse, quiet voice, was all at once blurting out, 'He promised me he would never look at another woman!' Fabienne quickly cottoned on that Rachel was talking about her dead husband, and Rachel, still in that same tense voice, hurried on, 'He vowed he loved only me. Swore that he was broken-hearted to have hurt me, and how he would never, ever hurt me again-and I, I like the trusting idiot I was, believed him.'

  'Perhaps-perhaps he was being sincere,' Fabienne ventured gently. 'How sincere was he that, while swearing he would never be unfaithful again, he should have his mistress of the moment in the car with him when he died?' Rachel asked.

  'Rachel--I'm so sorry,' Fabienne whispered.

  'There's more, but I won't sully your ears with it.' Rachel stared into the distance, without really seeing, Fabienne felt sure and, tonelessly now, she went on. 'Over the first few weeks-after he died-I found out more and more about my "loving" husband. When I learned, though, that he'd actually taken one of his women to our marriage bed while we, the children and I, were away for a few days, it all seemed too much.'

  Fabienne felt at a loss to know what to say that might be helpful. Perhaps, though, it might be cathartic, now that Rachel had started to talk of what must have been bottled up inside her, to encourage her a little more. Even as she prompted, 'So you decided to stay with your stepbrother-in-law for a little while?' she confessed that she felt most uncertain.

  'It wasn't quite like that. By the time I, with Kitty and John, moved into Brackendale, I wasn't up to making any sort of clear-cut decision. Vere had been in regular contact since Nick died, checking to see that we wanted for nothing and generally keeping an eye on us-he's been so good to us, you wouldn't believe. Anyhow, he asked what we were doing for Christmas and I

  was feeling so mentally bruised and battered by then that I wanted nothing to do with anyone connected with Nick Hargreaves, so I lied and said I was spending Christmas with my parents.'

  'Only you haven't-um-made your peace with them yet.'

  'True. God, why are parents always right?'

  'They've lived longer,' Fabienne suggested, and was rewarded with a faint smile, then Rachel took a shaky breath, and continued. 'So we managed to get through Christmas and put up a good front when in the new year Vere rang or-less frequently-called to see us. I truly felt then that things must improve as time went by.'

  'But they didn't?'

  Rachel shook her head. 'I still didn't want to admit that I couldn't cope when for a lot of February and March Vere had to be abroad on business. So we didn't see him until Easter when he called with Easter eggs-he must have been absolutely appalled at the neglected state of the house, not to mention the neglected state of the twins.'

  'He asked you to come to Brackendale?' Fabienne suggested. 'He didn't stop to ask-by then I wasn't up to making even the smallest decision. In fact, looking back, I can barely remember anything of his visit save that he was there and next we weren't, and that all in the same instant, or so it seems now, he had medical people coming to Brackendale and checking us-me and the children-over. He-Vere-enrolled the children at the village school, employed extra domestic help and was generally marvellous. As, too, was Mrs Hobbs. Anyway, we limped along until half-term-not that my contribution was anything at all-and that was where you came in.'

  'Me? The children weren't on half-'

  'They were away from school at half-term, wandering around like lost souls, when Vere realised that since I wasn't up to coping yet it might be an idea to engage someone to keep an eye on Kitty and John during the coming school holiday. And-' Rachel smiled '-I'm glad he chose you.' Fabienne smiled back and then a young couple came and sat nearby, within hearing distance, and she knew that Rachel's confidences were at an end. It had seemed to have done Rachel some good, though, Fabienne felt, when at dinner Rachel kept up her 'two paces forward' recovery and was quite talkative for her. Kitty and John were chatty too, she noted. Which, since Vere was saying little-to her at any rate-and since she had nothing she wanted to say to him either, made it

  just as well that somebody had something to say. At one juncture, however, she somehow felt that his eyes were on her. But when she flicked a glance his way, his head turned towards Kitty and he was listening to her holding forth on something that had happened at school that day.

  Bizarrely, Fabienne felt her heartbeats flutter as she looked at his strong, aristocratic face. She liked him, even while she oft-times hated him. In all honesty she knew that she liked him-so why couldn't he like her?

  Unconsciously she sighed-and cursed the sound, for he, his hearing more acute than she would have believed, heard it and at once turned his head to look at her. My God, add 'arrogant' to that 'aristocratic', she thought and, as she stared back, refusing to look away, she tilted her head an arrogant fraction, too.

  'Do you have a problem?' he enquired courteously. Nothing a twelve-bore shotgun would not put right, she thought sourly, not thanking him that, because there were other people present, 'he was keeping his hostility in check.

  'Not a thing,' she replied sweetly, and saw his glance flick to her smiling mouth, but knew he had belief in neither her smile nor her sweet reply.

  Rachel had a down day the next day but Fabienne thought, on going to see her, that somehow her down days did not seem to be so deep-down as they had just two weeks ago.

  She declined to go with Fabienne to pick up the children from school that afternoon, though, and as it was such a beautiful day Fabienne decided to walk rather than use the car. And, because the children had a mile to walk back, too, she treated them to ice-creams and absolved her conscience by deciding that they were overdue for a little spoiling.

  Their chatter on the way home was full of excitement because they had both been invited to Sadie Bragg's birthday party tomorrow afternoon. 'She wasn't going to have one,' Kitty confided, 'but her mother said she could last night, so we're all going.'

  'That will be nice,' Fabienne murmured, and as they walked through the drive gates at Brackendale so she recognised her brother's car coming away from the house. 'Alex-I missed you!' she exclaimed in regret as he stopped his car and got out to say hello and farewell to all three of them.

  'Not to worry, Rachel gave me the cup of tea I was gasping for. Everything all right?'

  'Fine.'

  'Good. See you.' With a hug and a kiss he was back in his car. Fabienne stood at the gates waving to him as the twins, seeing their mother on the drive coming towards them, ran to meet her to tell her about the party invitation, and then ran off to tell Mrs Hobbs.

  'Sorry you missed Alex. If you'd gone in the car...' She smiled and left the rest unsaid and Fabienne, delighted to see that Rachel appeared much more cheered than she had first thing, smiled back.

  'Not to worry-I reckon he only called in for a piece of Mrs Hobbs' cake.'

  Fabienne dressed with care for dinner that night-and just could not understand the feeling of deflation she felt that Vere was not in to dinner that evening. Good heavens, it was as though she actually enjoyed having the hostile brute look down his arrogant nose at her!

  She saw him the following morning, though, and hostile just wasn't the word for it! For the first time in the two and a half weeks she'd been there she overslept, and could not seem to make up the lost time.

  'You two go down to breakfast,' she instructed Kitty and John and, intending to skip her own breakfast so as to be able to deliver them to school on time, 'I'll be down soon.'
She knew that Mrs Hobbs would see to them if she was not there but, in any case, there was always their uncle.

  And a not very sunny-humoured uncle, she saw, when she later hastened down the stairs to where, having delayed his own start, he was ushering the children out of the house and to where his car was standing.

  'I'll take them to school!' she protested, and would have followed after them but, his brow as black as thunder, Vere halted slap-bang in front of her.

  'There's no need for you to take them,' she dug her toes in, refusing to feel intimidated by his murderous expression. 'Grief-I only overslept and-'

  'And invited one of your men-friends to this house!' he chopped her off unceremoniously.

  'What...?' she gasped faintly, and only then started to become aware that Vere's furious mood might have nothing to do with the fact that she had overslept.

  'Is it your habit to invite your male friends here so you can kiss and cuddle on my doorstep?' he demanded.

  'I-' she began, only broke off as it just then dawned on her that Kitty and John must have told him of Alex's visit yesterday. She had thought that they had understood that he was her brother. But, in the rush of seeing Alex and of him being on his way again, clearly not. 'That-'

  she began again, but Vere was plainly more incensed the more he thought about it, and again he unceremoniously chopped her off.

  'Did you kiss this man?' he demanded. 'Did you have your arms around each other?'

  Fabienne most definitely did not like his tone, nor the aggression that went with it. She was not used to it and, what was more, as her aggression rose up to meet his, she was not going to take it!

  'What of it?' she challenged, her chin tilted defiantly, sparks of anger flashing in her eyes.

  But his eyes were ablaze with a furnace of fury when, going straight for her jugular, 'Might I remind you,' he grated, 'that you're employed here to look after the twins' welfare!'