Rachel then seemed to go into her shell again so that where her thoughts went Fabienne had no idea. She went with her to pick the children up from school, though, and when Lyndon Davies somehow separated them she went on ahead with the children while Lyndon invited Fabienne to go with him to a jazz concert in Haychester that evening.
Fabienne liked jazz, but knew better than to confess it. 'Some other time,'
she smiled, and left him to go and' catch Rachel up.
Because Mrs Hobbs had mentioned how dreadfully she had missed seeing the children at the weekend, Fabienne and Rachel left them with her to have tea in the kitchen while they returned to the drawing-room.
Rachel was restless again, Fabienne noticed, and her tone was jerky again, too, when, as if determined to be more decisive than she had been in the recent past, she jumped up and, going over to the window, declared, 'Perhaps it's time I went and made my peace with my parents.'
'Perhaps it might be a good idea,' Fabienne agreed slowly, as Rachel turned to her.
'I...' Rachel hesitated. 'I need to think!' she said rather desperately-and Fabienne knew that she could not help her there. From where she was viewing it, it seemed to her that Rachel was in something of a panic because there were two men showing an interest in her-Vere and Alex-and Fabienne
just could not say a word. Then she found that she had no need to because suddenly Rachel had swung agitatedly back to the window and, 'Here's Vere!' she cried. And while Fabienne's insides became a jumbled, excited mass that Vere was not only home but home early, Rachel, with more energy than she had seen her use, was exclaiming, 'I must see him!' and had dashed out. Indeed, so fast did Rachel move that as Fabienne got to the window she saw that the other woman was out on the drive before Vere could steer his car round to the rear-if that had been his intention.
Fabienne took a step back so that she could not be seen, but that did not prevent her from being able to observe the way that Vere halted his car, exchanged a few words with Rachel, and then got out of his car and stood with his stepsister-in-law on the drive in what looked like very earnest conversation.
In her heart Fabienne knew that she should not be watching, unseen, these two people in such private conversation. But she seemed powerless to look away. That was until suddenly Vere put an arm about Rachel's shoulders-and a knife went through Fabienne. She stayed watching only a moment longer, but when Vere said something and looked down to Rachel and smiled-and Rachel smiled back-she just could not take any more. She was up in her room barely knowing that she had moved. She hurt. She wanted to leave. But-a shuddery kind of breath escaped her-she could not leave. How could she?
Suddenly Fabienne realised that she could not say with absolute honesty why it was that she could not leave. Was it that she felt that Kitty and John needed her, or that Rachel needed her? Or was it Vere-who did not need her and never would-whom she could not leave?
That thought wounded her pride and made her ashamed that she should be so pathetic. Which, in turn, fired her to think that, when she might not be able to leave so easily, there was just no way she was going to sit at the same dinner table as both Rachel and Vere that evening.
With that knowledge came the knowledge also that she was going to draw too much attention to herself unless she had a very good reason for not going down to dinner that evening. She thought of her conversation with Vere-in this very room-this morning, and, fiercely turning her thoughts away from how wonderful that time had been, she forced herself to remember only what Vere had said about her having time off in lieu of the time she had put in over the weekend. Normally she would not have given time off another thought.
But she was hurting, hurting like crazy, and she was taking the evening off.
Between them, he and Rachel could supervise the twins. There was no telephone directory in her room but there was an extension, and she was too upset just then to want to go down the stairs looking for a telephone directory and so risk bumping into Vere. And upset enough not to give a damn if directory enquiries charged ten times the amount they did for looking up the telephone number she wanted. A few minutes later and she was speaking with Dilys Bragg. 'Is Lyndon there?' she enquired after a few pleasantries.
'You can come to the jazz concert?' he asked, before he had even said hello.
'Not only that-I'll treat you to dinner in Haychester first,' she replied. Though qualified, 'But I'd like to go in my car.'
'That's good,' Lyndon returned. 'I haven't got one.'
Fabienne put down the phone wondering how it could be that, when she felt as if she was bleeding inside, she could at the same time smile at Lyndon Davies' banter. She was not, however, feeling much like smiling when a few seconds afterwards her inherent good manners came and tripped her up and decreed she would have to go downstairs anyway.
Courtesy, not to mention the respect she had for Mrs Hobbs, demanded that she go and tell her that she would not be in for dinner.
Still, it was only because she was certain that by now Vere would be either in his own room or closeted, the door closed, in the drawing room with his evening paper, that Fabienne tripped lightly down the stairs. She was passing by the study door, though, when she realised that she had badly miscalculated. For the door opened and there, direct grey-eyed and absolutely marvellous, stood Vere!
She went to speed on, but suddenly she felt his hand on her arm as he spun her round. At once everything in her went haywire. His touch was electric! She hated him and loved him all at the same time, and too late realised that she should have been ready for this moment-this meeting. As it was, she was not ready, in fact she had never been more unready, and she had no idea how she should act.
This morning everything had been light and pleasant between them, but this evening-well, this evening she was feeling so out of control emotionally that she could cheerfully have either thrown herself at him or physically attacked him.
Fortunately Vere was the first to speak and saved her from making regretted choices. 'Just where are you dashing off to?' he wanted to know, his tone light, teasing almost.
He dropped his hold on her arm, and she was glad about that. She found her voice. 'I want to see Mrs Hobbs,' she answered evenly.
'And I,' he took up smoothly, 'wanted to see you.'
Crazily her heart just did not listen to her head that insisted he could mean nothing personal by that statement. But, while her heart danced Latin American, 'Oh, yes?' she enquired, quite astonished at the evenness of her tone-how could it be so when she was shaking like a leaf inside?
'Rachel tells me she wants to visit her parents tomorrow and would like to stay for a couple of days. I've encouraged her in this, but realise it will fall heavily on you.'
Some of her pain eased. But that ease was only momentary. It could have been that Rachel had rushed out to see Vere to tell him she had decided to go to her parents, and it could have been that he had put his arm about her shoulders in a gesture of the encouragement he had spoken of.
But-somehow-Fabienne just knew that there was more to it than that. She just knew it.
But she tried to concentrate on what he was saying. 'By falling heavily on me I assume you mean that Rachel won't be taking the children with her?' she worked out aloud.
'Driving her car any distance after not driving for some while will call for all the concentration she can muster. Besides which, Kitty and John have just taken a couple of days off school. In my view a little regular routine in their lives at this stage wouldn't come amiss.'
'If you say so,' she replied, of the opinion that he was probably right but, even as he gave her a sharp look, stubbornly refusing to let him think she agreed with everything he said.
'Which leaves me asking if you would mind looking after the twins until Rachel returns.'
'Of course I will,' she replied without hesitation.
'I can take a couple of days off work and help if-'
'Grief-that's not necessary!' she exclaimed as she tried to ignore that treac
herous part of her that wanted nothing more than that he should take a couple of days off work-perhaps they could go for long walks together or...
'The children will be at school most of the time anyway,' she rushed on lest she even now begged him to stay away from his office. 'And anyhow,' she hurried on, 'to look after the children was what you engaged me to do.'
'So I did,' he replied, but suddenly there was a stiff edge in his voice, and Fabienne knew then and there that never again would she share with him the affability of that morning. She knew it without doubt when, as though to dismiss her, he added arrogantly, 'You'd better go and see Mrs Hobbs about whatever it is-she'll be busy with cooking dinner and won't have t-'
'Actually,' Fabienne butted in, not liking him nor his arrogant manner one tiny bit, 'it's to tell Mrs Hobbs that I won't be in to dinner that-'
'You're eating out?' Vere rapped before she could finish.
'That was the general idea!' she flared.
'Who with?' he snarled.
'What do you mean, who with?'
'While you're under my roof, I'm resp-'
'No, you're not!'
'Who with?' he repeated aggressively. 'I've a date!' She refused to tell him.
'For the security of this house, and its vulnerable occupants, I insist on knowing who it is who's coming calling!' he rasped.
'He's not coming calling!' she snapped. 'You're meeting him in Haychester?'
'I'm picking him up.'
'That's a new twist!' he barked and, brilliant with his guesswork, 'Lyndon Davies!' he challenged.
'The very same!' she exploded, inwardly fuming that, despite her efforts, he knew the name of her date. 'Come home at a reasonable hour!' he ordered.
'Or you'll lock me out?' she challenged.
His hands came up to her upper arms and bit deep. 'My God, you ask for trouble!' he grated, but gained control enough to let go of her and take a step back when, his voice as cutting as cold steel, 'Have the courtesy to come in quietly,' he clipped, and disappeared into his study, closing the door on her with a determined, controlled quietness-and Fabienne only just held down a dry sob. Oh, why did she have to go and fall in love with him?
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE jazz was good, the dinner was good-but Lyndon Davies was not Vere.
Lyndon, however, while it had to be said he did attempt to kiss her, took her rebuff in friendly fashion and otherwise enjoyed the evening. 'Darn it, I just knew you wouldn't run out of petrol!' he complained when Fabienne dropped him off at his sister's home.
'See you at school tomorrow morning,' she laughed, and went on her way.
It was just gone midnight as she drew up at the rear of Brackendale. She had half expected that she would be locked out, but not only was the outside light left on for her but the lock yielded to her key.
She would have gone in silently anyway but, as bidden, she went quietly along the hall, only to feel her insides somersault when she saw that the study door was open, and that there was a light shining from within. Her foot-steps faltered. Vere was working in there, she just knew it! And while part of her heart went out to him that at gone midnight he was still working, she at the same time part wondered if he was purposely waiting up to see what time she arrived home.
Any anger that thought brought, though, was at once negated by the realisation that, poor darling, since the house still had to be secured-for the night, what else could he do but wait up?
Fabienne did not like the feeling of being selfish but, as she stopped by the study door, it was on the tip of her tongue to apologise. That was until she met the arctic ice of Vere's look full-on, and then she would have cut her tongue out sooner than say sorry for keeping him from his bed. Without uttering a single solitary word, she went on. He, she noted, had nothing to say to her either.
As matters turned out, she did not see Lyndon Davies at the school the next morning for the simple reason that Rachel, in her ever more successful recovery, took the children to school herself. 'I thought I'd get off fairly early to go to my parents,' she explained to Fabienne, 'so I can drop Kitty and John off on my way through.'
Vere had already left for his office when Fabienne waved Rachel and the children off. She wished that she could dislike Rachel, but she could not.
Somehow, regardless that Vere seemed to be taking more than stepbrother-in-law interest in her, Fabienne still liked her. In a very short time, she owned, she had grown fond of them all. Wasn't it just her luck that, most of all, she had grown the fondest of the head of the household?
She went back into the house and went up to her room. She had the whole
day, until it was time to collect the children, stretching out in front of her.
Restlessly she prowled her room, tidying up here and there and trying not to think. What she would really have liked to do was to get into her car and drive for miles and miles. But she took her responsibilities where Kitty and John were concerned very seriously. In the absence of their mother and their step-uncle, she felt she should stay in the vicinity of Sutton Ash.
With children one never knew; one of them might develop a headache or some such and want to be brought home.
Fabienne left her room and went to check on the children's rooms, but Ingrid was already at work in there.
With nothing better to do and all day to do it in, she returned to her room.
It was still only ten o'clock. She went to take a look out of the window-and recognised her brother's car turning into the drive.
Grief, he'd been up early if he'd got business this way. She hurried down the stairs to meet him. 'Alex!' she exclaimed, as always pleased to see him.
'You've remembered who serves the best coffee in town.' He grinned, and welcomed a cup. But they were in the drawing-room sharing a pot of coffee when Fabienne realised that, unusually for him, Alex seemed a touch fidgety. Though, before she could ask him if there was anything wrong, it seemed that Alex could contain himself no longer for, mid-sentence about something else, he suddenly blurted out, 'Is Rachel not down yet?'
'R--' Fabienne swallowed down her surprise. She knew her brother-this was not just an idle question. Everything about him said it was not-his serious manner, just everything! 'I'm sorry if you particularly wanted to see her-she's gone to visit her parents for a few days. Did you especially want to see her?' He shook his head, but slowly, and to her surprise, confessed, 'I never expected to ever feel this way again. Yet, because of what both Rachel and I have been through, I've been trying to exercise caution-so what the deuce do I think I'm doing by coming here to see her today? God help me, I've fallen for her.'
'Oh, Alex. Does-does she know?'
'I think so,' he answered. 'But, just as I feel that she is feeling something of the same for me, because of our previous love partners I think we're both a bit wary.'
'But-you felt you just had to see her?' Fabienne asked carefully. 'Crazy, isn't it?' Alex acknowledged, and stood up.
'When's Rachel coming back-or, better still, have you got her parents'
address? I know they live not too far away from Lintham, but not exactly where.'
'You're going to call on her at her parents'?' Fabienne exclaimed. 'Nothing so tactless.' Alex gave a half-smile. 'I might give her a ring, though, and if she fancies a drive or dinner...'
He left it there and all Fabienne felt she could do was to be as supportive as possible. He was, after all, a very special brother. 'Which makes it just as well that, while I don't have her parents' address, Rachel did happen to leave me their telephone number,' she smiled.
Fabienne watched him drive away and spent the hours until it was time to collect the children from school in wishing that she could get rid of her feeling of treachery. She had had to give Alex that telephone number, she knew that she had. But for Vere's sake she equally knew that she should not have done so.
Unhappily she walked down to the village to meet the children out of school, feeling hurt inside with the knowledge that if Rachel and
Alex were going to get together then it was going to be Vere who would get hurt. Oh, what a tangled mess! It was not as though she wanted Vere and Rachel to become an item-because she knew that she did not want Vere to marry Rachel-but she did not want him hurt, either.
'Fancy me taking you out to dinner on Saturday?' Lyndon Davies asked the moment he saw her. 'Your car, of course.'
She liked him, and smiled. 'Would that I could, Lyndon, but I'm otherwise engaged.'
'Lucky blighter! How about-?'
'Here's Kitty,' she cut through what he was saying, gave him a cheery wave, and kept up a surface cheerfulness with the children all the way home. 'Is it Thursday that Mummy comes home?' Kitty asked as they neared the gates of Brackendale-and Fabienne realised that, although Rachel had been unable to be much of a parent to her because of her illness, there was nevertheless a strong bonding between the two and Kitty was already missing her.
'That's right, but the time will fly, you'll see,' she answered brightly and, with an arm round the shoulders of both Kitty and John, 'Let's sing a song,' she suggested.
They were singing in happy, unconcerned discord as they swung into the gates and tramped down the drive. And were in fine voice as they turned the corner to the rear of the house. Then all three stopped dead. 'Uncle!'
the twins exclaimed in excited unison, and Fabienne's heart started to pound to beat the band. For Vere, home early, stood there and had obviously been listening to them singing their heads off.
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