A Vengeful Reunion

by Catherine George

  When Jonah Savage was shown in Leonie was describing her life in Florence to some of her parents’ friends. She felt Kate stiffen with apprehension beside her, but Fenny charged across the room, her face aglow, and before Jonah could do more than murmur a conventional greeting the little girl had towed him to the far side of the room to join the group round her parents. Leonie saw him shake his head, smiling, as her mother offered him supper, then turned her attention back to the Andersons, who had known her all her life, and were doing their level best to behave as though they’d never received an invitation to the wedding of Leonie Dysart and Jonah Savage.

  Sheer will-power forced Leonie to carry on eating, talking and behaving as though the arrival of her onetime fiancé was of no more note than any other guest. But sensitive Kate promptly rescued Leonie’s abandoned supper, and roped her into taking trays of plates off to the kitchen, where Mrs Briggs, who helped in the house on weekdays, was firmly in charge, with the help of one of her daughters. Leonie spent a few minutes chatting with them in the kitchen, then took Kate by the arm.

  ‘Right then, love,’ she said firmly. ‘Time for you to join the younger set.’

  Kate looked at her in entreaty. ‘I can’t go in there on my own—’

  ‘You don’t have to. I’ll come with you.’

  As Adam had promised, Kate was instantly absorbed into a crowd of friendly young people, and Leonie, wanting nothing more than a bed to herself in the dark, returned to the drawing room to help Jess circulate with wine.

  Jonah Savage was talking to some of her father’s friends as Leonie and Jess removed plates, and refilled glasses.

  ‘Are you sure I can’t get you anything to eat, Jonah,’ asked Leonie, smiling brightly as she poured more wine into his glass.

  Before he could reply a great thumping beat began to reverberate through the room, and Fenny let out a screech of excitement.

  ‘It’s the disco, Mummy. Please can I go in the party now?’

  ‘I’ll take her, if I may,’ Jonah offered.

  Frances nodded and Jonah bowed formally to the ecstatic six-year-old.

  ‘May I have this dance, Miss Dysart?’

  Tom Dysart grinned ruefully at the assembled guests, and suggested that everyone join the party to hop around to the noise for a few minutes. ‘Afterwards,’ he added, ‘we’ll leave the energetic bit to the young and get back here for coffee and medicinal brandy.’

  The moment Leonie and Jess joined the dancers they were drawn into the throng, where Kate was dancing happily with one of Adam’s friends, showing no trace of her earlier shyness. For a breathless few minutes the older set valiantly kept pace with the young, then Adam had a word with the disc jockey and turned to grin at his parents as Frank Sinatra began to sing ‘My Funny Valentine’.

  Frances Dysart, née Valentine, blew her son a kiss, and Adam scooped Fenny up and settled the beaming little girl on his hip as he jigged slowly round with total disregard for timing.

  ‘Mind if I cut in?’ said Jonah, and Leonie’s partner, unversed in the skills of ballroom dancing, surrendered her to him with a rueful grin.

  In Jonah’s arms Leonie moved in silence to the music, her body in instant, perfect rhythm with his, as it had always been in the past, both on the dance floor and in private. Jonah held her lightly enough, but the touch of his hand on her back burned through the silk of her dress. She tensed, certain that everyone must be watching and speculating, felt his fingers tighten on her hand, and at last surrendered to the eyes that were willing her to look up.

  ‘It’s been a long time,’ said Jonah softly, and pulled her closer. Her heart leapt as she felt his body stir against her. She tried to put space between them, but his hand hardened against her back, keeping her in contact so close her face flamed, and her dress felt suddenly too tight as her breasts hardened in response impossible to control. She stared blindly over his shoulder, trying to ignore the heat which penetrated through their clothes, her gossamer silk and the fine Italian wool of Jonah’s suit no barrier to the desire that surged between them like an electric current.

  Then the music stopped and Jonah released her, smiling at her in narrow-eyed triumph. He thanked her with impeccable courtesy, then to Leonie’s secret rage deserted her to partner Jess.

  Leonie left them to it, and went upstairs to Fenny’s room for a few private moments of recovery and repair. Afterwards she went to help serve coffee and drinks in the drawing room, and stayed there, chatting for a while, until her mother asked if she felt brave enough to detach Fenella from the party.

  ‘You know she’ll do anything for you, Leo, but be firm,’ said Tom Dysart, puffing on a large cigar.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Leonie assured him. ‘She’s probably worn out by now.’

  Fenny was tired enough, but tearfully reluctant to leave the revels. She clung to Jonah’s hand, pleading to stay a little longer.

  ‘Darling, it’s very late,’ said Leonie gently. ‘Say goodnight to everyone, there’s a love.’

  Adam solved the problem by stopping the music. He ordered everyone to bid farewell to Miss Fenella Dysart, and after a chorus of goodnights and blown kisses Fenny allowed Jonah to lead her from the room.

  ‘Will you come up and read to me, Jonah? Please?’ she cajoled.

  He smiled at her indulgently. ‘I’m told you can read very well yourself.’

  ‘I’m too tired,’ said Fenny, sounding so forlorn Leonie relented.

  ‘I’ll take you along to Mother and Dad to say goodnight very quickly to everyone, and when you’re tucked up in bed perhaps Jonah would be kind enough to read a very short story?’ she said, casting a look at him.

  ‘With pleasure,’ he said promptly.

  In her parents’ rather draughty bathroom later, Leonie hurried the drooping little girl through her preparations for bed, then settled her down on the folding bed in the dressing room off the main bedroom, and went out onto the landing to beckon Jonah inside.

  It was a painful, disturbing experience to listen while Jonah read to Fenny. Watching, Leonie felt a sharp, agonising pang for what might have been; survived it, then, when Fenny was asleep, went ahead of Jonah through her parents’ room and out onto the landing.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said formally. ‘If you’d like to go downstairs to join whichever company you prefer, I’ll be down in a few minutes. I need repairs.’

  ‘I’ll wait here for you.’

  ‘Please don’t,’ she said coldly.

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Ah. Back to square one again.’

  ‘What did you expect?’

  ‘Are you telling me I imagined what happened when we were dancing?’ he demanded fiercely.

  ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I’m not. We were always very—compatible in that way. But you can’t use sex like a dose of antibiotics, Jonah. Some things it can’t cure.’

  ‘Sex,’ he repeated, after a taut, throbbing silence. ‘How succinct. A shame you’re not equally so on other subjects. Our broken engagement, for instance.’

  ‘Hypocrite! You know—’ She turned away abruptly as a group of girls came streaming up the stairs in search of a bathroom. ‘See you later,’ she added out loud, and gave him a fever-bright smile of dismissal.

  A peep in at the dancers later showed Adam, Jess and Kate quite literally having a ball, but Leonie, feeling a hundred years older than her siblings, made no move to join them. She returned to the less frenetic atmosphere of the drawing room instead, and circulated among the company, topping up drinks, stopping to chat here and there. And she took good care to extend her civility and her smile in equal measures to Jonah when he came in, knowing full well that everyone in the room was speculating on his presence and her reaction to it. When her parents’ guests began to leave at last Leonie seized on the job of escorting them out, and eventually found herself alone at the door with Jonah.

  ‘Say my goodnights to Adam and your sisters,’ he said coolly.

  ‘You’ve given up dancing already?’

&
nbsp; His eyes shuttered. ‘I’ve given up a lot of things, Leo. Hope included.’

  Leonie shivered in the open doorway in the icy wind blowing up from the river. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said politely.

  ‘Are you?’ He shrugged. ‘You know, Leo, for a moment, as I held you in my arms, I was fool enough to hope things had changed.’

  ‘Nothing’s changed,’ she said with sudden passion. ‘How you can act the innocent, Jonah, when all the time—’ She broke off, suddenly weary. ‘Oh what’s the use? You and I both know what happened. Why do you think I stay away from home so much?’

  ‘I wish I knew,’ he retorted. ‘Enlighten me.’

  She stared at him, shaking her head. ‘What a marvellous actor you are, Jonah Savage. You’re so brilliant in the role of wronged fiancé—’ Leonie smiled brightly as her parents escorted the last of their guests along the hall towards them. ‘Thank you so much for sparing the time tonight, Jonah,’ she said distinctly. ‘You made Fenny very happy.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ he responded in kind. ‘She’s a delightful little girl.’ He turned to smile at Tom and Frances Dysart. ‘It was a great party. Thank you for inviting me.’

  Jonah departed with the Andersons, after general farewells that required nothing more of Leonie than the smile which felt pasted to her face. Afterwards she told her parents she was too tired to rejoin the dancing.

  ‘You won’t get much sleep,’ said her mother ruefully. ‘I’m afraid the music won’t stop until two at the earliest.’

  ‘Never mind.’ Leonie eyed her spike-heeled scarlet sandals with hostility. ‘At least I can take these off!’

  Later, huddled under a quilt on the inflated mattress set up beside Fenny’s double bed, Leonie knew that even if the house were perfectly quiet she would still be awake. Seeing Jonah again, and, worse still, discovering that the old, familiar chemistry was as strong as ever, was no recipe for sleep. Seven long years, she thought bitterly, yet the pain still cut like a knife. When she’d posted Jonah’s ring to him and fled back to Italy that fateful spring her astounded parents had taken a lot of convincing before accepting her repeated explanation about changing her mind. They had taken to Jonah from the first. And very obviously still looked on him as the injured party. She gritted her teeth in frustration. Now he was in the neighbourhood, it was an impossible situation. And because everyone knew the school was closed she could hardly hurt her parents by running back to Florence again to keep out of the way. Nor would she. Jonah couldn’t be allowed the satisfaction of spoiling her unexpected holiday.

  ‘Are you awake?’ whispered Jess, closing the door quietly.

  ‘You have to be joking!’ Leonie switched on a lamp and sat up, eyeing the tray Jess put down beside her. ‘Do I smell hot chocolate?’

  ‘You certainly do. I’m a star,’ said Jess, handing her a steaming mug. ‘I take it I share with Kate? Good thing she’s so small.’ She sat down on the edge of the bed with a yawn, then sipped with relish. ‘I hope this sits well with champagne.’

  ‘So do I. If you get up in the night don’t wake me!’

  ‘Do you boss Roberto round like that?’

  Leonie smiled demurely. ‘No. He’s the masterful type.’

  Jess stared. ‘Really? Does that turn you on?’

  ‘A bit, I suppose.’

  ‘Personally,’ said Jess, grinning, ‘I think this Roberto of yours must be really something if he outdoes Jonah in the turning-on department.’

  ‘That was a long time ago,’ said Leonie dismissively.

  ‘Who are you trying to kid?’ Jess’s dark eyes mocked beneath the ash-blonde hair. ‘I saw you earlier on tonight.’

  Leonie felt heat rush to her face. ‘You could see?’

  ‘Only because I was just behind you. No one else noticed, Leo. But from where I was standing—shuffling about, really; the boy couldn’t dance—it was pretty steamy.’

  Leonie groaned and laid her head down on her knees. ‘Jonah was making an experiment to prove something to me. And it worked, damn him.’

  ‘Chemistry lesson?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  Jess sighed. ‘No wonder you looked a bit hacked off when he asked me to dance.’ She grinned. ‘Not that I was flattered. I just happened to be nearest. He never said a solitary word except to thank me politely afterwards and take off as soon as he could.’

  Leonie raised her head again, her eyes heavy. ‘It was so mortifying, Jess. The hormones still responded to Jonah no matter how hard the brain tried to put on the brakes.’ She shrugged. ‘Not that it matters. I’m unlikely to see him again.’

  Jess frowned. ‘But if you still feel like that after all these years, Leo, couldn’t you bring yourself to forgive Jonah’s one indiscretion and get together again? I assume it was just the one?’ she added.

  ‘As far as I know. But don’t be fooled by what happened tonight, there’s absolutely no chance of my getting back with Jonah. Ever.’

  ‘Pity.’ Jess sighed, then stood up to wriggle out of her dress. ‘Though that’s tempting fate a bit, Leo. Never say never.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  NEXT morning, after what felt like only a few minutes’ sleep, Leonie got up early to help her mother provide breakfast for any of the guests who could face it. She slid out of bed as quietly as she could to let Jess and Kate sleep on, washed and dressed in Fenny’s little bathroom and went downstairs in the pale light of a cool spring morning.

  Glad to find the kitchen empty, and her parents and Fenny still presumably sleeping, Leonie laid the big table, set out an array of cups and beakers on the central island, then filled kettles and got out coffee, sliced bread. Afterwards she made herself a pot of tea and some toast, surprised to find she was hungry. When her mother arrived a little later she smiled in surprise.

  ‘You’re early, darling, I hoped you’d sleep in for a bit.’

  ‘I opted for the inflatable mattress,’ said Leonie, grinning. ‘It was no hardship to desert it for the lures of breakfast.’ She poured tea for her mother, and offered to make toast.

  ‘Thank you, I think I will. Frankly I could have stayed in bed a lot longer this morning, but I had visions of pallid, hungover young things needing coffee and no one here to provide it.’

  ‘They could have gone over to the Stables and made Adam feed them.’

  ‘Always supposing they could wake him.’ Frances laughed. ‘I wonder how everyone slept? I imagine there was quite a fight for beds.’

  ‘Students are used to sleeping on floors,’ Leonie assured her. ‘I did it often enough in my youth.’

  ‘Darling, you talk as though you were Methuselah!’

  ‘I’m staring thirty in the face, Mother,’ Leonie reminded her.

  ‘You don’t look it this morning in those jeans. And last night you positively dazzled in that amazing dress. Nor was I the only one to think so.’ Frances buttered her toast and bit into it appreciatively. ‘I needed this. I didn’t eat much last night. And you abandoned your supper the moment Jonah arrived.’

  Leonie eyed her mother in amusement. ‘Nothing gets by you, does it?’

  The interlude of peace was short. In twos and threes the yawning party goers came down to join them. When Tom Dysart arrived with Fenny and Kate he gave a wry look into the room full of chattering females, and accepted with alacrity when offered a tray in his study.

  Leonie took it in to him with the Sunday papers, stayed to chat for a while, then volunteered to fetch Marzi from the farm while Fenny and Kate had breakfast with the other girls. She collected a jacket from a peg in the scullery and went out alone into the crisp, bright morning, her lips twitching at the sight of drawn curtains and total absence of life in the Stables.

  Leonie walked briskly down the drive and out on to the main road, passing only the occasional churchgoing car in the quiet of early Sunday. After a mile or so she turned down the lane which led to Springfield Farm, smiling at the sounds of yapping and barking in the distance as pungent, familiar smells ca
me up to greet her. When she reached the farmhouse a young giant in stockinged feet opened the door in answer to her knock, Chris Morgan’s yawn changing to a grin at the sight of his visitor.

  ‘Well, well, Leo Dysart, home from foreign parts! Come in, come in.’

  ‘Hi, Chris, nice to see you again.’

  Leonie kicked off her muddy boots in the back entry and followed Chris into the welcoming warmth of a kitchen where tempting smells of fried bacon hung in the air. Chris gestured towards the table and pushed the teapot towards her.

  ‘Sit down, help yourself. My father’s taken your dog out with ours. They’ll be back in a minute. My mother’s away, visiting my sister and new sprog.’

  Leonie exclaimed in surprise. She’d attended primary school with both Chris and his sister Jenny. It came as a shock to hear that the new ‘sprog’ was Jenny’s third son.

  Chris was all for providing Leonie with a vast fry-up, like the one he was devouring himself, but she shook her head, laughing.

  ‘I’ve had breakfast. And if I ate one like that every morning I’d need a new wardrobe.’

  He grinned. ‘My turn for the milking this morning, I need refuelling. Besides, I’m a growing lad.’

  ‘Heavens, I hope not!’

  ‘How did the party go?’ he asked, as he went on with his meal.

  ‘Very well. I’ve left Mother and Kate serving coffee to the female revellers. There was no sign of life from Adam’s place.’

  Chris made himself a sandwich with the last of his bacon and sat back, looking at her with open pleasure. ‘You look very perky for the morning after, Leo. Downright gorgeous, in fact.’

  ‘Why, thank you, kind sir,’ she retorted, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Though if I do it’s a wonder. I spent half of yesterday travelling, and the other half partying. I’ll probably collapse in a heap today at some stage.’

  Chris got up, eyebrows raised, in response to a knock on the back door. ‘Like Piccadilly Circus here this morning,’ he said, grinning.

  The grin was missing when he returned with the new arrival.