by Liz Fielding
Kate read it through, wondering if she had gone too far. Then she shrugged. No one would ever know it was Jay, and the editor would blue-pencil it quickly enough if she didn’t like it.
‘I’m going to the post, Tisha. Shall I take Daisy with me?’ Kate put her head around the drawing-room door. Daisy didn’t wait for a second invitation. Kate had a jacket on and that was good enough.
‘Oh, thank you. Kate, I’ve been meaning to ask you. I play bridge at the vicarage on Wednesday evenings. It’s rather dull, I know, but since you don’t know anyone here yet I wondered if you would like to come along?’
‘I’m afraid that I’m a total duffer at card games,’ Kate apologised ‘And Mike Howard invited me out tonight. Jay introduced us in Oulton Market the other day.’
Lady Maynard regarded her over the top of her spectacles with a suspicion of a smile. ‘Then I hope you have a lovely time. Mike is a very pleasant young man.’
* * *
Lady Maynard was right. Mike was a pleasant companion. Easy to talk to and interesting on the subject of his work for the National Trust. Unthreatening. They had a meal in an old country house that had been converted to a restaurant.
‘Thanks, Mike, for a lovely evening.’ He had walked her across the courtyard to the door and they now stood a little uncertainly. Not intimate enough to kiss without the spark that made such an end to the evening inevitable, but something seemed to be required.
‘Could we do this again soon, Kate?’ Mike asked. ‘I enjoyed myself enormously.’
Kate heard the earnestness in his voice with a touch of misgiving. She had enjoyed herself, but had no intention of encouraging Mike. Life was already complicated enough. A sudden flood of light illuminating them from the doorway put an end to all further conversation.
‘Mike! How good of you to bring Kate home. Would you like to come in for a drink?’ The words were right, but Jay’s voice was not encouraging.
‘Hello, Jay. I thought you were in London.’
‘I was, but with so many attractions at Fullerton I find I just can’t keep away.’
Mike looked uncomfortable. ‘I’d better be off, Kate. I’ll ring you later in the week.’
‘Yes, do,’ Kate called after him with a great deal more enthusiasm than she had felt two minutes earlier. Then she turned on Jay. ‘Were you waiting behind the door?’
‘Of course I was. I timed my entrance to perfection, don’t you think? Another ten seconds and he would have kissed you.’
‘And what if he had?’ she demanded, angrily. ‘What business is it of yours?’
‘None. I was thinking of Sam,’ he said, his grave concern a blatant mockery.
‘Sam…’ Words failed her.
‘You’d better come in.’ He put a hand out and hauled her across the threshold. ‘I do believe it’s beginning to rain.’
Furious, she tried to push past him, but his fingers bit into her arm.
‘Let go of me!’ she demanded.
‘Why? I’m sure that I can equal anything Mike Howard has to offer.’ He hooked her into his arms with brazen ease and kicked the door shut.
Then, oblivious to her furious struggles, he kissed her with the unerring conviction that it was exactly what she wanted. She didn’t stop fighting him, furiously hammering at his shoulders and his arms. She knew if she did she would be utterly overcome by the urgent demand of his mouth on hers. But the potent force he exuded came close to overwhelming her. She felt her self-control slipping towards the edge and a desperate hungering need to take what he was offering and let the consequences go hang. She gave a final desperate push and then they were glaring at each other across a yard of kitchen, breathless and angry. She staggered, half falling on putty legs in her need to escape him. He moved to help her but she shook him off.
‘Don’t ever do that again!’ The words tumbled from her.
‘No one is going to kiss you on my doorstep, Kate,’ he swore with absolute certainty. He towered over her, red-blooded, forceful. ‘No one but me.’ Each word was a hammer blow in her ears.
‘Is that right?’ She flinched under the onslaught. She wanted to run, but if she did not put a stop to this now it would get beyond her ability to control. He had taken no notice of her protestations of indifference, probably with good cause. But she had come too close to surrender tonight. Her eyes sparkled with fury that he could do this to her, and with the sharp sting of tears, and she retaliated. ‘Well, let me tell you this, Jay Warwick. Lay one finger on me again and I’ll lay a complaint against you for sexual harassment!’
The muscles of his neck stood out in cords as he fought to control himself, and it took every ounce of courage to stay there and stare him down. Not that he looked away. For endless paralysed moments they glared unblinking at each other.
‘Jay?’ It was as if the voice came from another planet. ‘I didn’t expect you until the weekend.’
So slowly that she could see the effort it took, Jay forced himself to relax and smile before turning to face his aunt. ‘It’s hot and dusty in London, Tisha. I’ve come in search of a little peace and quiet in which to work.’
‘I think perhaps you carry the clamour around with you,’ she said, drily. ‘If you’re planning to stay, I would be grateful if you could arrange for some secretarial help. When you’re here the telephone never stops ringing. Did you have a pleasant evening, Kate?’
Kate blinked. She had forgotton Mike completely. ‘Yes, thank you. How was the bridge?’ she asked mechanically.
Lady Maynard removed her gloves, finger by finger, and regarded them both with a certain wry humour. ‘I couldn’t seem to concentrate and the vicar was furious with me. For a man of the cloth he is a very bad loser. Frankly, I could do with a drink. Kate? Will you join me?’
She shook her head. ‘No, thank you. It’s late and I’ve a long day ahead of me tomorrow.’
She moved quickly around Jay, avoiding a movement in her direction that she sensed rather than saw. She made no mistake about locking her door and lay stiffly, unable to sleep, unable even to think clearly, for a long time. She heard Lady Maynard walk along the corridor to her room, followed by the scuffling paws of Daisy, but hours later Jay had not passed her door and she wondered if he had turned around and driven straight back to London.
Finally, she decided to warm some milk and, pulling her dressing-gown tightly around her, she went downstairs.
A sound from the study stopped her as she crossed the hall and she froze, certain of burglars. A quiver of apprehension dried her throat, but she moved silently towards the half-open door. Jay was sitting in the dark. He had put a match to the fire, but it had long since died down and only the faintest glow illuminated the room and his outline slumped in the high-backed chair.
‘Jay?’ she said, uncertainly.
‘What do you want?’ His voice was discouraging.
‘It’s very late.’
‘I can tell the time. What’s the matter, Kate? Can’t you sleep? Am I troubling your conscience?’
He had hit too close to the truth for comfort. As soon as her empty threat had left her lips she had wished it unsaid. Jay Warwick wasn’t harassing her. It was her own body that was guilty of that.
‘Would you like a warm drink? I thought I might make something? Cocoa, perhaps?’
‘Cocoa! The last woman who offered me cocoa was my nanny!’ He swung around and studied her in the light of the dying embers. ‘She dressed rather like that, in striped pyjamas and a woolly dressing-gown. But they look rather different on you.’ His eyes narrowed as he regarded her hair tumbled about her shoulders. ‘And the hair. Perhaps you should invest in a hairnet and curlers if you plan to wander about the house at night half-dressed.’ He turned back to the fire. ‘Cocoa won’t cure what ails me, Kate.’
‘Then why don’t you give Annabel a call?’ she said, with a brave attempt at diversion.
‘Annabel?’ He raised a gallows smile. ‘Annabel’s in London, so you’d better go back to your b
ed. And be sure to lock your door.’
* * *
It was still raining when she finally gave up the strugle to sleep and climbed wearily out of bed. She pulled on an old tracksuit and set off for a run with Daisy, hardly noticing that her hair was plastered to her head and her tracksuit was sodden. Then she stood under a fierce shower to finish the job of waking up.
A sleepness night was no preparation for a hard day’s cooking and every cherry, every date, every walnut seemed to have a life of its own as her fumbling fingers attempted to produce a series of perfect cakes.
She had not seen Jay. He had not appeared for breakfast. Nancy had taken something through to the study on a tray and said that he wasn’t to be disturbed. But his brooding presence filtered throughout the house, making everyone jumpy.
Tisha Maynard looked in briefly. ‘I’m going to Norwich, Kate. I won’t be back until late. Will you ask Nancy to leave me a sandwich in the pantry? I shan’t need anything else and perhaps you could see to yourself. She normally has Thursday evenings off.’
‘Of course. What about…?’ Her mouth dried on his name.
‘Jay can go to the pub. It won’t hurt him.’
‘It’s no bother.’ Kate protested.
‘Jay has a house and a staff of his own in London. If he wants to be waited on he should stay there.’
Nevertheless, when she decided to make a simple spaghetti bolognese for her supper there was more than enough for two.
She laid a place in the small dining-room and then rang through from the kitchen to tell him what she had done, forcing a brisk, businesslike tone into her voice. Jay didn’t answer for a moment.
‘Thank you, Kate,’ he said at last.
She put down the telephone and settled down to eat by herself, pushing the food around her plate, wondering why she had even bothered.
‘Kate?’ She jumped. Jay was standing beside her, his plate in one hand, a bottle of wine and two glasses in the other, and her heart gave an involuntary leap of pleasure. ‘It seemed silly to sit in there on my own. Can I join you? Or will you throw something at me?’ He hadn’t slept. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes over-bright.
‘Frankly, I’m not capable of throwing so much as a tantrum.’
He sat in the chair opposite her and poured two glasses of a dark red wine. He held a glass up, swirling it in the light. ‘I brought this back from Tuscany last year. It’s really rather good.’
He semed to be making an effort at normal conversation and Kate tasted the wine and agreed. They toyed with their food for a while in silence.
‘Kate—’
‘Jay—’
They both stopped. Don’t go.’ Jay’s words fell into the silence.
‘Go?’
‘Isn’t that what you’re going to say? That you’re leaving?’
‘Leaving?’ The word was shocking and she shook her head. ‘No! I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about last night.’
‘Sorry!’ He was stunned. ‘What on earth for?’
‘You know why…’
‘I was the one who behaved like a mindless oaf.’ He stared at her. ‘But when Tisha mentioned on the phone that you were going out with Mike I couldn’t believe it. After all that high-minded stuff about how much you love Sam. How could you?’ he demanded.
‘It was just a pleasant evening out, Jay. I’m quite capable of having a friendship with a man.’
‘So next time you phone him and pick up the tab at the end of the evening?’
She knew he was right, but she persisted. ‘Why not?’
‘I doubt if Mike sees the relationship progressing in quite that way. He just isn’t as frank about it as I am.’
She lowered her eyes. There was precious little frankness in their relationship. But she could put one thing right. ‘Jay, I didn’t mean what I said. About accusing you of…’ Kate broke off, unable to say the words. ‘I wouldn’t have done that.’
She felt him staring at her. ‘You had every right.’
‘Please, let’s just forget it,’ she begged, keeping her gaze firmly fixed upon her plate.
He reached across the table and lifted her chin with the tips of his fingers. ‘Forget it? Just like that?’ he asked, the faintest, self-mocking smile touching his eyes. ‘You’re very generous.’
Generous. The word mocked her. What would he say if he knew about the things she wrote in her column? she wondered. The wretched thing had taken on a life of its own. “Cathy” had begun to receive mail from old ladies offering heartfelt advice to find a new employer as quickly as possible. Her editor had forwarded them and it was only by luck that she had been intercepted by the postman in the courtyard, happy not to have to get out of his van in rain, and been handed a manilla envelope with the Evening Mail logo printed large in the corner along with the rest of the post. Tense as a bow-string, she gave up any pretence of eating.
After a while Jay said, ‘Kate, I’ve been approached by a children’s charity who want to hold a Teddy Bear’s Picnic in the grounds. What do you think?’
She made an effort, dragged her mind back from its misery. ‘It would be good publicity. I’m sure you’d get plenty of coverage in the press.’
‘That would be an added bonus, but it is a cause I happen to hold rather dear.’
A children’s charity? Shaken she said, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be flippant. I think it’s a great idea.’
‘I’d like to open the Conservatory for them. Since we’d have to do it on a Saturday and the house will be open again on the Sunday it will mean a great deal of extra work. Can you manage that?’ He sat forward, pushing the plates to one side.
She saw with some surprise that it really was important to him. ‘Of course we can manage. Have you a date in mind?’
‘Towards the end of May. I have the letter in the study. I’ll get my office to go ahead and organise some advance publicity.’ He offered her another glass of wine. Kate shook her head, stifling a yawn. ‘Perhaps you’re right. Besides, I have to walk that dratted dog.’ He rose. ‘Will you come with me? It’s stopped raining.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘I’ll make you a promise, Kate.’ He took her hands and drew her to her feet. ‘The next time I kiss you it will be at your invitation.’ He placed a finger on her lips before she could protest. ‘And I would be grateful for the company. I’ve been holed up in the study all day, working on some figures. Penance enough, believe me. Besides, I’ve a couple of other ideas I’d like your opinion on.’ He was still holding her hand as he opened the door.
* * *
Jay arrived from London one Friday evening with a package. She was working in her tiny office and looked up as his shadow fell across her desk.
‘This is yours, Kate.’ He took a videotape from the envelope. She had forgotten all about it and for a moment couldn’t think what it was. ‘It’s you doing your stuff for the television. Sorry it’s taken so long.’
‘Thank you.’ She looked at the newspaper clippings he was holding and a quiver of alarm shot through her. ‘What are those?’
‘The press cutting agency I use sent all the Fullerton Hall clippings to me in London. I thought you might like to see them.’
She let out a careful breath. ‘I can’t believe there are so many.’
‘They’re not all the result of the publicity. Some just mention the house.’ He flipped through them. ‘This one might amuse you.’ She took the slip of newsprint he offered.
‘“Where is Kate?“’ she read and looked at him.
‘What is this?’ He merely smiled and she read on. ‘“Fun-loving bachelor Jay Warwick has been keeping his head down lately, apparently far too busy with the opening of his stately home in Norfolk to frequent his usual nightspots. Of course, it might just be the mysterious Kate who’s keeping him so busy…”’ Her voice trailed away. ‘What on earth does that mean?’
‘I’m afraid I took your name in vain one night on the television.’ Kate remembered only
too well the numbing shock. ‘Very silly of me under the circumstances. Am I forgiven?’ he asked carelessly.
‘It was nothing. Really,’ she said quickly.
‘Ah, so you saw the programme?’ His eyes sparkled. ‘You never told me.’
‘Sam had it on,’ she said, without thinking, and the light died from his eyes. ‘I wasn’t watching particularly,’ she lied. ‘If you’ll excuse me I have to get on with dinner.’
‘Please don’t cook for me. I’m eating out tonight,’ Jay said.
‘I noticed Annabel Courtney was home again. It must be very convenient having her so close.’
‘Very.’
* * *
Mike telephoned after dinner to ask her if she could spare the time for a drink and she forced herself to go out. Anything was better than sitting alone wondering what Jay and Annabel were doing. The thought induced a spasm of guilt, and when Mike brought her home she allowed him to kiss her. There was none of the helter-skelter of emotion she has experienced when Jay kissed her, but Mike didn’t seem to notice anything lacking.
‘Dinner next week?’ he asked.
Headlights in the drive panicked her. ‘Ring me, Mike.’ She fled indoors, anxious to get up to her room. But Daisy whined to go out, and she was still struggling into her outdoor shoes when Jay walked in. Her fingers were lifeless as she fought with the laces and he bent and tied them firmly for her. When he looked up, his face was inches from her own.
‘Pleasant evening, Kate?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her heart ragged in her throat. ‘Thank you.’
‘No need to thank me. I’m sure you thanked Mike very adequately.’ He stood up and walked quickly away.
‘Damn!’ Daisy nuzzled against her cheek, and Kate rubbed her head. ‘Come on, girl. Let’s go.’
* * *
Life proceeded peacefully enough. Jay came and went without warning, courteous but distant. If Kate’s heart lifted disquietingly at each appearance, she coped. At least he made no further raids on her emotions. He was too occupied with Annabel, as their picture in the gossip columns constantly reminded her.
She continued to write her column for the Evening Mail, adding little snippets gleaned from her day-to-day work, hard pushed to fulfil her editor’s demands to hear more of Jack and his wicked ways. Since their clash over Mike, Jay had been on his best behaviour and there had been little to write.
