Hostile engagement

by Jessica Steele

  Well, it was a weight off her mind to know Rupert wasn't going to drive home after celebrating, Lucy thought, as she put down the phone. And as the afternoon wore on she wished for the umpteenth time that Rupert had never taken up with Archie Proctor. Their father had gambled away most of Rupert's heritage; she just prayed that as well as inheriting Brook House from his father, Rupert had not inherited his gambling streak as well. She shook the thought away, but it came back to haunt her again and again as afternoon gave way to early evening, she couldn't quite see Rupert at the races, and with Archie Proctor, and not having a bet on one of the horses.

  She set about making herself a salad with the long evening stretching before her. There were plenty of people she knew in Priors Channing, but she had no wish to call any of them, though she knew most of the evening would be spent in worrying what Rupert, with Archie Proctor as ringleader, would be up to.

  In the act of giving a lettuce close scrutiny as she washed it, Lucy turned off the kitchen tap to hear the sound of a vehicle coming up the drive. Hastily she dried her hands and hurried into the hall. Rupert had decided not to stay

  away overnight after all, was her first heartening thought as she reached the front door and flung it open. But it was not Rupert's two-seater sports car that came to a standstill in front of the house. It was a sports car, admitted, but a larger, more expensive model than the one Rupert owned, and the man who was now swinging himself on to the shingled drive was not Rupert at all, but none other than her mock-fiancé-Jud Hemming. What he could want she had no idea, but as she waited for him to join her at the front door, the smile of welcome that had been for Rupert disappeared.

  `I wondered if you'd be in,' said Jud, as he came up to her. 'I meant to mention this morning that I would prefer it if you didn't date anybody while you're engaged to me.'

  The problem of whether to accept invitations from any of the men of her acquaintance hadn't struck her before, and now that he mentioned it she could see it was certainly something she would have to think about, but for him to call at her home and calmly announce that part of their bargain was that she declined any invitations from the opposite sex during the next three months had small sparks of anger spitting within her.

  "That's what you've come to tell me, is it?' she asked, her voice becoming heated. 'Well, let me tell you, Mr Hemming

  `Jud,' he broke in. 'The name's Jud, remember?' he repeated, resting his gaze on the smooth creaminess of her skin, his eyes not missing the fire she was struggling to hold down. 'That isn't the only reason I came to see you,' he added coolly, and looked quietly at her, not saying another word until Lucy was forced, by his unspoken message that he had no intention of discussing anything with her on the doorstep, to invite him in.

  She led the way into the sitting room, seeing the room as he no doubt would view it. It was a large room, a room large enough to take far more furniture than it housed. The

  three-piece suit looked lost in it, Lucy thought, but he couldn't know having never been in the room before that it hadn't always been this sparsely furnished, she comforted herself, though he would know the few ornaments dotted about were of not much value. He couldn't know, sharp as he undoubtedly was, that the more valuable pieces of porcelain had been sold, she thought, and she knew his first glance had catalogued the room.

  Jud Hemming didn't comment on the room, in fact he looked as though it didn't matter much to him in which room he said what he had come to say-it flashed through her mind he had been equally at home in the kitchen that morning. 'May I?' he asked, indicating one of the chairs.

  `Yes, of course,' Lucy replied, having been so taken up with what he might be thinking about the room that she had for the moment forgotten her manners. He waited until she too was seated before taking the chair nearest to him, and she was struck to think she liked this common courtesy. She ousted the thought that she liked anything about him as it came to her that by being seated it looked as though this wasn't going to be a brief 'Call.

  `Your brother not in?' he enquired, looking relaxed as he sat back in his chair.

  `No,' Lucy answered, sitting on the edge of hers. Then because that short answer had him looking at her questioningly, 'He won't be back tonight. Did you want to see him?'

  `Does he often stay away overnight?'

  It wasn't anything to do with him what Rupert did, and that was another question he hadn't deigned to answer, not that she could think of any good reason why he should want to see her brother.

  `He's twenty-five, he can make his own decision whether he comes home or not.' She felt aggression rising on her brother's behalf.

  `And how old are you, Lucy?' he asked smoothly, ignoring her aggression.

  `Twenty-two.' She hadn't wanted to answer but couldn't see any good reason why he shouldn't know how old she was. 'How old are you?' She didn't see why he should be the one to ask all the questions.

  `Thirty-five,' he supplied. 'You don't mind that your brother goes off and leaves you here on your own-you're quite isolated here and you don't have any live-in staff, do you?'

  `We don't have any staff at all,' she said shortly before it came to her that he knew anyway, and that his reference to `live-in staff' had been his tactful way of saying she was there completely on her own. She had never associated him with such sensitivity, and it had her rising out of her chair and asking him merely for something to say to get off the subject, 'Would you care for a drink?'

  She subsided into her chair again as with, 'No, thanks,' he refused, then looking at her steadily, he said quietly, `Since you appear to be all on your own this evening, perhaps you would like to come back with me and have dinner

  `Up at the Hall?' The question was out when she had no intention of going any further than the front door with him. `At the Hall,' he confirmed.

  `No, thanks.' It was a pleasure to turn down his invitation even though she had no idea what had motivated his issuing it—it wasn't from any desire to have her company, of that she was positive. Was it, she wondered, his way of ensuring she didn't date anybody else while she was engaged to him? If he thought ...

  `That's a pity,' he broke in on her thoughts. 'My mother was looking forward to your joining us for dinner.'

  `Your mother?' Lucy gasped, her surprise showing as her dark brown eyes opened wide. 'Does ... Your mother doesn't know about-us, does she?'

  `She does.'

  His confirmation in those two controlled words had her rising out of her chair, only to find he had risen too. `How could you tell her?' she demanded angrily. 'I thought we agreed not to say anything to anybody.' They hadn't agreed exactly, she remembered after the words had left her lips. In fact she remembered clearly that Jud had left before she'd been able to get any sort of answer from him.

  `I don't recall agreeing to keep our engagement secret,' he said shortly. 'But for your information, it wasn't I who told my mother—I think I can say I was as surprised as she when she came home after having had tea with Mrs Arbuthnot and said how pleased everyone was that Lucy Carey was marrying her son. I think my mother would have appreciated hearing the news first hand from me rather than have the bank manager's wife pass on the information.'

  His voice sounded hard and inflexible, and Lucy groaned inwardly. She remembered the older woman who had stood with him, Carol and Joyce Appleby yesterday; she had been totally unlike her son in looks, Lucy recalled, having a more gentle look to her. She thought she knew exactly what must have happened, and wished she had thought to tell Rupert not to mention her engagement to anyone. But she hadn't thought it necessary, hadn't thought at all if it came to that, believing that Rupert, knowing the circumstances of her engagement, would want to keep it as quiet as she herself. It had never dawned on her that he would go and tell Mr Arbuthnot that his sister was engaged to the owner of Rockford Hall. Poor Mrs Hemming, she must have been dreadfully hurt at receiving the news from a stranger.

  Lucy looked up and across to where Jud Hemming was standing. His look was chillin
g and she hoped she never knew him when he let go of his temper. That would be a truly formidable sight—and experience—for the person on

  the receiving end; she only hoped he would hold on to his temper long enough for her to apologise.

  `I ... I'm very sorry, Mr—Jud,' she managed at last. 'I'm very sorry your mother heard about—us this way. I'm afraid I must take the blame.' She looked away from him as his eyes iced over. 'I told Rupert everything this morning, and he went to see Mr Arbuthnot later—I can only suppose my brother told the bank manager and he relayed it to his wife—' Her voice faded and she ended lamely, 'I never thought to tell Rupert not to say anything to anyone.'

  Silence greeted her confession, and still unable to look at Jud, Lucy stared at the crisp white shirt he had on beneath his dark jacket. Then the shirt was coming nearer to her, and she lifted startled brown eyes to his face as two strong hands were raised and came to rest on her shoulders.

  `It would appear that since everyone in Priors Channing will soon know of our engagement, the bargain is well and truly sealed.' His eyes were glinting down at her, and Lucy felt fear streak through her as he hauled her up against him until their bodies were touching. 'I think under the circumstances I can be forgiven if I take some of the dubious pleasures of that bargain,' he told her, his voice none the warmer for what she was terrified he was about to do. Her own voice felt bolted up inside of her, making her powerless to say anything to dissuade him from his intent. Then before she could begin to struggle away from him, his head came down, the mouth she had thought so hard was against her own, and as their lips met the hardness left his mouth and became a warm, searching mouth that surprised her as much as the situation she now found herself in.

  Pushing against his chest was useless, she found. Jud Hemming was kissing her as if he meant it, and there was no way he was going to let her go until he had assuaged the cold anger in him. The worst thing about it was, Lucy thought as she struggled, that the mastery of his kisses was having the oddest effect on her. If she didn't dislike him so

  very much, she would, she thought, have found the experience quite enjoyable.

  This thought alone had sufficient strength for her to give one gigantic push, which happened to coincide with what must, she thought, be Jud's own opinion that he had had enough, for she found herself free of him with the space of a yard or so separating them.

  A mixture of emotions rioted through her as she found herself free of him. His face was looking as unconcerned as ever, but to her regret, the best she could come out with as she whipped anger into every word was a sarcastic :

  `I thought you said you were choosey.'

  `Stung, did it?' he enquired coolly, in no way put out by her anger. Lucy looked away from him. If she could be sure he wouldn't try that trick again she would have turned her back on him, but she wasn't taking any chances. 'You have no need to worry,' his voice reached her, 'I'm not likely to kiss you again.' His tone indicated that he thought once was enough for any man, which had her wanting to fly at him. Only with the greatest of effort did she restrain herself. Then out of the blue he asked, 'Where's your engagement ring?'

  It irritated her that he should refer to it as her 'engagement ring'. 'In my bag,' she replied shortly, and found herself commanded

  `Put it on.'

  Lucy could see little point in arguing. As he had said, the bargain was well and truly sealed, and in any case she had a feeling if she didn't voluntarily 'put it on', Jud Hemming would slip the ring over her knuckle if it meant he had to break her finger to do so. Going over to the side of the settee, she picked up her bag and delved into it to extract the ring. As she knew it would, it fitted.

  `Anything else?' she asked, and wanted to add `sir' but thought better than to risk it, for all she was no longer afraid of him.

  `Yes,' he answered. 'Make sure you're wearing it when I introduce you to my mother.'

  `Intro ... You don't think I'm coming back with you, do you—not after that ...'

  `Good God, you'll be telling me next you've never been kissed before,' he interrupted her scoffingly.

  `I've been kissed many times before,' Lucy returned smartly, 'and always enjoyed it before.'

  She expected some stinging sarcasm to come hurtling her way for that 'before', but to her utter amazement she saw she had amused him, saw for the first time a hint of amusement in his face, quickly gone, as he said, 'You may have been kissed many times, but you still have a lot to learn,' then went on in a different tone, 'I think it only fair, Lucy, in view of the hurt my mother received today, that you come with me and meet her.'

  He couldn't have said anything more calculated to get her to agree to go with him. She could fully understand, Lucy thought, the pain his mother must have felt at having someone outside the family telling her of her son's engagement.

  `Have you told your mother our engagement will end in three months' time?' she questioned.

  `I think she's had enough hurt for one day,' Jud told her. `She's old-fashioned enough to believe in love, and is tidied pink at the idea that I've at last found the "right one".' Not without much searching and sampling either, I'll bet, Lucy wanted to put in, but thought better of it, though Jud's lips twitched again briefly, which gave her an idea he knew exactly what she was thinking. would rather she kept her illusions for the time being,' he went on, nu sign of humour on his face now. 'She hasn't been well—seeing me ensnared seems to have put new life into her.' He paused, then with his eyes not leaving her face, asked bluntly, 'Well, will you come?'

  `Have I any choice?' She didn't expect an answer, which

  was just as well, because she didn't get one.

  Up in her bedroom Lucy would have loved to dawdle as she dressed herself ready to meet Jud's mother. She was being contrary, she knew, but it still irked her at having to give in to his order that she have dinner up at the Hall—as she had already told him, she reflected as she shook out a pale apricot-coloured dinner gown prior to stepping into it, she had had very little choice. No choice either when Jud Hemming had elected to wait downstairs while she changed. Oh, she'd tried to get rid of him, but her, 'I'll be ready if you call back for me in an hour,' had had him replying, 'You'll be ready in half that time, and I'll wait right here.' His eyes had been cold as he had surveyed her then, and she had slammed up to the bathroom to take a quick shower with the very definite feeling that if she was one minute over the half hour, she would hear his footsteps charging up the stairs to get her. Oh damn, now her zip had stuck.

  Backing towards the mirror, Lucy struggled to see where the metal had caught the fine apricot material. The minutes ticked on as -she wrestled with the recalcitrant zip, but all she achieved was to jam it so tight it would go neither up nor down. Marvellous, she thought, sitting down on her dressing table stool and staring glum-faced at her reflection; she would have to ask that brute downstairs to take a look at it because the zip had stuck so fast she couldn't even take the dress off and put on something else. Fortunately her face was made up and her hair smoothly brushed and swinging loosely to her shoulders; she was ready apart from that stupid zip. She listened thinking she heard a movement downstairs and considered that was all she needed for Jud Hemming to start to become impatient. Standing up, she slewed round and saw in the mirror the expanse of bare back that would be open to his view if she asked him to see if he could fix her zip.

  With the resigned thought of 'what else can I do?' she

  left her bedroom and as she reached the head of the stairs saw that Jud had come out into the hall and was looking up at her from the bottom of the stairs. Even from that distance the expression on his face looked distinctly chilly.

  `Ready?' he called, when she made no move to join him.

  `No,' she called back, and before she could add anything further, the intimacy of the request she had to make causing her to hesitate to voice it, Jud did no more than begin to ascend the stairs. 'You can't come up here,' she protested, wasting her breath as he joined her on the lan
ding.

  `Your half hour is up,' he told her icily. 'You look ready and you've already agreed to come-so don't start playing games with me at this stage. I warn you now ...'

  `My zip's stuck,' Lucy cut in, not liking the ominous threat behind his words.

  Jud looked at the front of her, seemed to notice only then that the front of her bodice was not fitting as snugly as it might have done, and that her dress had never been designed to reveal any part of her breasts, the creamy swell now open to his gaze. 'Turn around,' he instructed coolly, clearly unaffected by the sight of her charms, and unspeaking Lucy did as she was bidden. 'The light's no good here,' he said after a moment or two. 'Let's try your bedroom.'

  `The light is better downstairs,' Lucy lied, feeling unaccountably nervous at having this suddenly still man in the intimate closeness of her bedroom.

  `Believe it or not,' said Jud, as the silence lengthened between them, 'I'm more interested in having my dinner at this moment than taking advantage of anything you have to offer.'

  Stung once more by his sarcasm, his very tone telling her whatever else other men might think of her, she left him cold, Lucy stormed ahead of him, mindless that he had a clear view of her, as her flapping dress fell off her shoulders to reveal a goodly proportion of her naked back. She left him to please himself whether he followed her into her

  room, and stood silently fuming with her dress held to the front of her her back to the open door. She didn't care then whether her dress was mended or not; one more word out of him and he could return to the Hall by himself.

  Lucy knew the instant he came into the room and her body tensed when she felt his hands warm on her back. `Relax,' the quietly spoken word reached her. 'I can't do a thing while you're trembling so badly.' Up to that point she hadn't been aware she had been trembling; it was pure fury of course that had got her into this state. 'I've said I won't take advantage-surely that bit of a kiss downstairs hasn't unnerved you to this extent?'