‘Harriet. Let’s not part like this.’ He drew her into his arms and she leaned against him limply. ‘Please promise me you’re going straight to bed. You look ready to drop.’
‘I am.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Thank you for bringing me home.’
‘Any time,’ he assured her. ‘Sleep well.’
When the last sound of James’s car engine had died away a sudden gurgle from her stomach reminded Harriet that she’d had nothing to eat all day. Common sense nudged her into making toast and tea, which she got down somehow before going upstairs to fall into bed. She slept like the dead and found it hard to get out of bed next morning. Her head ached and she felt thoroughly out of sorts as she rang the garage and asked for the loan of a car when they collected hers. She rang to enquire about Annabel while she waited for a mechanic to arrive, and learned that the doctor had been called back first thing.
‘I’ve arranged for a private nurse,’ Gervase said wearily. ‘The doctor swears it’s just a virus, but at three in the morning I was worried it was something a whole lot worse. Sophie was hysterical with worry.’
Harriet rolled her eyes. No need to tell her that. ‘I feel so guilty I couldn’t stay to help, but I have meetings today—’
‘For God’s sake, Harriet, you’ve no need for guilt,’ he said instantly. ‘You have a job to do. I can pay for whatever nursing is necessary for Annabel.’
Poor child, thought Harriet. ‘Give her my love. Sophie, too. Are you going in today?’
‘I must for a while, but only after the nurse gets here. From then on I’ll work from home until Annabel is on the mend.’
Monday was never Harriet’s favourite day of the week. This one was made particularly difficult by the headache, which persisted through a prolonged meeting first thing with one of her most demanding female clients. In the afternoon a long drive in an unfamiliar car to visit another client made her late getting home, with a headache warming up to full migraine standard. Desperate for a bath and bed, her heart sank when she found Miriam Cairns waiting for her. Sometimes, Harriet thought, as she kissed her, she had regrets about giving Miriam a key to the Lodge.
‘Working late again? You look ghastly,’ accused her godmother militantly, ‘and you didn’t return my call yesterday.’
Harriet explained why, and offered to make tea.
‘ Sit down; I’ll make it. And throw a sandwich together.’
‘I’m not very hungry, but tea would be good.’ Harriet smiled wanly as she loosened her hair. ‘Thanks, Miriam.’
For once it was good just to sit there and let someone else take over as Miriam set to work in the small kitchen, though Harriet could have done without the running commentary of complaints about Sophie. When Miriam came back with wafer thin sandwiches and buttered scones as well as tea, Harriet smiled ruefully.
‘You’re spoiling me!’
‘About time someone did. You ought to be eating a good roast dinner, but if you’re as tired as you look these might go down more easily,’ Miriam said, her voice gruff to hide her concern.
‘Your scones always do,’ said Harriet, touched. ‘I was going to ring you this evening. It was too late by the time I got your message last night—which reminds me; I’d better ring Sophie before I eat.’
‘Ring her afterwards, girl.’
‘No. I’ll do it now.’
Gervase reported that Sophie was lying down and Annabel was much the same, but at least not worse. Fortunately, she liked the excellent paediatric nurse the agency had sent, which was giving her parents some respite.
‘That’s good. Give her my love. How are you, Gervase?’
‘Marginally happier now we have professional nursing help.’ He sighed. ‘One feels so helpless when a child is ill. I can’t thank you enough for looking after Annabel yesterday.’
‘Only too glad to help. Tell Sophie I rang.’ Harriet closed her phone and drank some tea.
‘Sophie not available?’ asked Miriam acidly.
‘She was resting. Fortunately, Annabel likes the nurse they hired.’
Miriam snorted. ‘I’ve never had children, so I can hardly throw stones, but I remember your mother coping with all three of you through all the usual childhood complaints. You’d think Sophie could manage one small girl without paying a nurse. She ought to be on her knees giving thanks for a husband rich enough to indulge her with such luxuries.’
‘Mother had Margaret to help,’ Harriet reminded her.
‘And wonderful help she was. But Sarah was the one who actually nursed you and got up in the night when you cried!’
‘True.’ Harriet sighed. ‘I did think of taking some time off to—’
‘Not to look after Annabel?’ Miriam shook her head in disbelief. ‘Let Sophie look after her own child. Better still, find someone suitable to father one and have a child of your own.’ Her eyes gleamed. ‘I hear you’ve been seeing quite a bit of the man who took your father’s place at the bank.’
‘Have you, indeed! Nick Corbett is just someone pleasant to go out with now and then.’
‘Better than nothing, I suppose.’ Miriam got up. ‘Stay where you are, I can see myself out. By the way, did Aubrey ever discover who actually hired River House?’
‘He certainly did. We had a big, big row.’
Belligerence gleamed in Miriam’s dark eyes. ‘Let me know if he turns nasty on you, and I’ll sort him out.’
Harriet shook her head. ‘I’d better bring him up to date about Annabel. He dotes on that child.’
‘She’s a sweet little thing,’ allowed Miriam, ‘which is a miracle with a mother like Sophie. Aubrey was always too indulgent with that girl.’
‘She was such a pretty child.’
‘Handsome is as handsome does,’ retorted Miriam. ‘Eat some of this lot, finish off the tea, then get to bed, dear.’
‘I will. Thank you for coming round.’ Harriet smiled crookedly. ‘It’s rather nice, this spoiling thing. I could get used to it.’
Miriam laughed, and surprised Harriet by kissing her goodnight.
Harriet couldn’t, after all, face anything to eat. She took pills, drank tea, then put the tray on the floor and rang her father to leave a message about his granddaughter. Duty done, Harriet stretched out on the sofa. She would get up in a minute and get out of her office clothes …
She woke with a start to the sound of hammering on her door and dragged herself to her feet, head spinning. She took in a deep breath, pushing the hair from her face as she opened the door and found James, city-suited and furious, glaring at her.
She managed a feeble hello before darkness swallowed her. When she opened her eyes she was back on her sofa, staring up into James’s face as he yelled at her to snap out of it and wake up.
‘Please,’ she said faintly. ‘Stop shouting—I’ve got a headache.’
‘Amongst other things,’ he said grimly, touching her forehead. ‘You’re hot. What the hell do I do now? I can’t leave you here like this. You’ve obviously caught something from your niece.’
‘Of course I haven’t, it’s much too soon for that,’ she retorted, and with care sat up. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all.’ She peered up at him curiously. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’
‘I’m going back to Moira’s for the night, so I thought I’d check up on you on the way. I wanted to talk to you.’ He loomed over her in disapproval as he noticed the food on the tray beside the sofa. ‘If this excuse for a meal was your dinner, you obviously haven’t touched it.’
‘I was about to, but I fell asleep,’ she said with dignity. ‘Would you like a scone?’
‘No,’ he said explosively, ‘I would not. I want to take you up to your room and make sure you’re safe in bed before I leave—’ His mouth twisted. ‘Don’t worry; I’m not suggesting I join you there.’
‘I didn’t think you were,’ she snapped, and got up, willing herself to stand without wavering. ‘I am perfectly capable of getting myself to bed.’
‘You�
��re still in your working clothes,’ he said, eyeing her rumpled suit. ‘Overtime again?’
‘I had a long drive to meet with a client and got home late, at which point my godmother was waiting here for me, so I didn’t get the chance to change. She made me the snack you were so rude about, and told me to go to bed. Which I was about to do when you arrived. Satisfied?’ Harriet added irritably.
‘No, I’m not. You were totally out of it, woman. If I hadn’t knocked—’
‘Hammered!’
‘The lights were on so I thought I’d make sure you were all right before I left. Which you were not,’ he said relentlessly.
‘I am now.’ She frowned. ‘What did you want to talk about?’
‘Fate,’ he said, startling her.
‘Extrapolate.’
‘My, what big words you use, Grandma!’ He grinned, and suddenly the tension eased and Harriet managed a deep breath for the first time since he’d arrived.
‘To start with,’ he went on, ‘it was fate that led me to Charlotte Brewster when I was researching an unusual venue for my works party. Imagine my reaction when I learned that you were Ms Brewster’s accountant and, biggest surprise of all, that River House was a possibility for the party.’ James sat on the arm of the sofa, looking down at her.
‘No doubt you were euphoric,’ she said dryly.
‘I felt as though Christmas had come early! It was a minor setback when I called in at the bank and found that your father was no longer in charge. But then I saw you, and knew that you, at least, were still around and probably still living at home with Daddy, which meant I could kill two birds with one stone by hiring your house.’ James smiled bitterly. ‘Only it didn’t turn out quite like that.’
‘Because the birds got helpful publicity via your party?’
Diamond-bright hazel eyes bored down into large, weary dark ones. ‘And because if revenge is a dish best eaten cold it’s proving damned hard for me to swallow.’
Harriet could see he was speaking the truth. She could also feel the heat emanating from his body, and caught a whiff of some kind of cologne blended with James’s personal pheromones—a potent, familiar mix that was suddenly too much for her. With a stifled apology she leapt unsteadily to her feet and bolted to the kitchen to heave dryly into the kitchen sink.
A hand reached round her to turn on the cold tap and wet a tea towel. Harriet snatched it and pressed it against her hot, sweating face. ‘Nemesis,’ she muttered into it, and felt James stiffen behind her.
‘Are you delirious?’ he demanded as he turned her round.
Harriet emerged from the damp cloth, pushed wet tendrils of hair back from her face and, with great dignity, thanked him, staggered slightly as she tried to stay upright, and assured him she would be fine now. James stared down into her ashen face, then picked her up and made for the stairs.
‘What are you doing?’ she gasped.
‘Putting you to bed,’ he said through his teeth, and peered in through an open door. ‘This is your room?’
Harriet’s head spun as James deposited her on her bed, and she was sucked down into a grey mist. ‘James—’ she said in sudden desperate appeal.
‘I’m here.’ He smoothed her hair from her face, then undid her jacket and pulled it from her lax arms. She made no protest when he unbuttoned and removed her shirt, and he felt as though he were undressing a doll by the way she just lay there and let him do as he wanted as he tugged her skirt down. Yet there was nothing sexual about the process. The tenderness he’d felt for the teenage Harriet might have lain dormant through the years, but it came alive again in full force as he undressed her down to her underwear, then tucked her under the covers. He tensed as her arms came up and her dark eyes opened in dazed wonder on his face.
‘James?’
‘Go to sleep,’ he said gruffly and felt every muscle in his body harden as she pulled his face down to hers to kiss him.
‘I suppose I’m dreaming again,’ she said drowsily as her arms fell away.
Shaken, James stood looking down at her as she turned her face into the pillow. If she was delirious maybe she was coming down with the virus her little niece was suffering from. Or maybe she just needed a good rest. He cursed silently as someone knocked on the Lodge door. If this was the banker boyfriend he’d get rid of him fast before he woke Harriet up. James went silently downstairs and ran to the door to wrench it open just as Aubrey Wilde had raised a hand to knock again.
CHAPTER TEN
THE two men stared at each other in antipathy neither made any attempt to conceal. To James this was the man who’d wrecked his relationship with the only woman he’d ever loved. To Aubrey the tall, dominant man eyeing him with such hostility was the thief who’d stolen something he’d never valued enough until Harriet’s love was withdrawn from him.
Aubrey didn’t bother with a greeting. ‘I need a private word with my daughter.’
‘Harriet is in bed. She’s ill,’ said James stonily. ‘I have to go, so it’s up to you to make sure the place is secure.’
Aubrey stared in umbrage as James strode to his car and drove off. After a moment’s hesitation he went inside and closed the door. He waited for a moment, and then heard movement from upstairs and water running in the bathroom and coughed to announce his presence.
‘James?’ called Harriet hoarsely, wrapping herself in her dressing gown.
‘No, it’s me,’ her father informed her.
So she had been dreaming. She walked very carefully downstairs. If only her head would stop thumping. ‘You got my message, Father?’ she asked, peering at him through half-closed eyes.
‘Yes. Something wrong with Annabel?’
She nodded carefully. ‘She’s got some kind of virus, poor darling. I was looking after her yesterday while Gervase and Sophie were at a lunch party.’
‘Of course Sophie wouldn’t miss a party, even if her child was ill,’ said Aubrey in disgust. ‘Where was her au pair?’
‘Pilar had to rush home to Spain, Father,’ Harriet said wearily.
‘So what’s happening now? Is Gervase helping Sophie look after Annabel?’
‘He’s hired a paediatric nurse.’
‘Good God!’ Aubrey shook his head in disbelief. ‘He’s a good man, but a sight too indulgent with Sophie.’ He shot a worried look at Harriet. ‘You don’t look well at all. You should go back to bed.’
For once Harriet was in complete agreement with her father. ‘I just came down for some drinks, so now I’ll get to bed and stay there.’
Her father’s mouth tightened. ‘Crawford opened your door to me. What was he doing here?’
Harriet swallowed. So she hadn’t been imagining things. ‘He was at the same party as Sophie and Gervase yesterday and brought them home because Annabel was ill. Then he drove me home here.’
‘Why?’
Good question. ‘My car wouldn’t start so I had to get a taxi to Sophie’s. I wasn’t feeling great when it was time to leave so I accepted a lift home when James offered. He came round tonight to ask after Annabel.’
‘I see.’ He hesitated. ‘You should take the day off tomorrow. I’ll send Margaret to check on you in the morning. Now try to sleep. Goodnight.’
Harriet locked the door after him, then collected a couple of tonics from the fridge and went upstairs, groaning in relief when she finally slid into bed. The tonics were a godsend during her long, uncomfortable night. She woke with a start every time she fell into a doze, felt hot and cold in turns, ached all over, and felt deep sympathy for poor little Annabel. No wonder the child had just wanted to be cuddled. Not that Harriet had the least desire for any cuddling. She was just desperate for the sleep her headache wouldn’t allow. At one stage she got up to take more painkillers, then banked the pillows behind her and just lay there to watch the sky grow light. When the office opened she rang Lydia to say she had a migraine and wouldn’t be in that day.
Since it was almost unknown for Harriet to take a day off due to i
llness, Lydia sympathised warmly and told her to stay in bed until she was better. ‘I’ll inform the partners.’
Shortly afterwards Margaret arrived with a breakfast tray, and told Harriet to eat before she took any pills and then stay where she was until she felt better.
‘Thank you, Margaret,’ she said listlessly as a tray was laid across her knees. ‘Sorry to add to your workload.’
‘Nonsense,’ said the woman briskly. ‘Just you drink that tea while it’s hot. Could you manage a poached egg?’
Harriet shuddered involuntarily. ‘Tea and toast are just the ticket for now.’
‘Is there anything else you want?’
‘No, thanks.’ Harriet smiled as she watched the neat, trim figure whisk out of the room, then rang Sophie to ask about Annabel, and heard the child was improving rapidly, but her sister was sure she was now coming down with the same virus.
‘Please take a day off and come over again, Harriet. Gervase has to go into work today and I feel wretched.’
‘Do you still have the nurse?’
‘Yes, but she’s just for Annabel. I need someone for me!’
‘Sorry, Sophie. I’m in bed right now myself with a migraine. I feel wretched too.’
‘What? But you’re never ill!’
Harriet held her head as Margaret came in. ‘Sophie,’ she whispered, and Margaret promptly took the phone away from her.
‘Margaret Rogers here. I’m afraid your sister’s not well enough to keep talking right now, Sophie. She’ll ring you back when she’s up to it.’ She listened for a while, then rolled her eyes at Harriet and said, ‘What a shame. I hope you feel better soon.’ She disconnected and handed the phone back.
‘Thanks, Margaret,’ said Harriet. ‘Sophie wanted me to go over to her place to look after her.’
Margaret gave her a look that said plainly what she thought of that idea. ‘I’ll make you some fresh tea.’
Harriet left a message on the Old Rectory phone to postpone her lunch date with Moira for a couple of days, then gave herself up to the sleep her body craved. When she woke, to see Margaret tiptoeing in, it was early afternoon.
A Wicked Persuasion Page 11
