She was a slight, middle-aged woman, with grey hair and rimless glasses, very still and composed, dressed neatly in a navy shirt-waister dress.
"I've laid the table in the kitchen, as you requested, and there's a lamb hotpot in the Aga."
"That will be fine, and is my room ready?" James sounded quite sharp as he spoke.
"Of course," Mrs Forbes answered, her voice cool.
Leah was aware of a frosty atmosphere between the two of them, but couldn't work out why.
"Would you like me to take your things up?" Mrs Forbes turned towards the bags that were on the tiled floor and Leah was struck by the sight of her small, scruffy canvas rucksack next to James's polished, soft leather holdall.
"No, I'll do that later,” he said gruffly. “We'll be looking after ourselves tomorrow, and leaving in the evening."
"Goodnight then, Mr Willoughby, Miss Grainger."
And with that, Mrs Forbes turned and glided towards the back of the house.
James led Leah towards a large, warm kitchen. It had obviously been newly decorated and restored with modern appliances whilst still keeping to the style and age of the house.
"Do you know anything about Agas?" he asked.
Leah shook her head. She was completely overwhelmed. The kitchen alone could have easily contained the whole floor of the little house in Clapham. There were shelves of china, glassware, copper pans and jelly moulds. Ropes of hops and lavender hung from the oak beams.
"I visited a house like this once on holiday," she said, "but it belonged to the National Trust."
"Well, just sit down at the table and I’ll pour us both a glass of wine. I'm hungry and I'm going to get the food out of this wretched monster," James picked up a cloth.
"Why didn't you let Mrs Forbes do it?" she asked.
"Because she makes me feel uncomfortable," he replied.
James set a glass of wine before Leah, then began ladling the fantastic smelling hotpot onto two plates.
"You! Uncomfortable!" Leah was surprised.
"She makes a point of calling me Mr Willoughby. I've known her since I was little. I mean, she's always been around, and she used to call me James."
"Well? Ask her to change back," Leah suggested.
"She wouldn't, and it would only make things worse. She obviously felt that once my father died and I inherited everything, it was the correct way to address me. She doesn't really want me coming here, anyway. I think she resents it. She prefers it when it's just my mother here."
Leah wondered if he brought Elizabeth to the house and how Mrs Forbes had reacted to her. She had a feeling that Elizabeth would be accepted.
The food was delicious, the hotpot and homemade crusty bread, plus an apple pie with cream in a little pottery jug, and the expensive red wine which had been opened and was at room temperature. Leah was totally full and almost relaxed. James was watching her.
"What?" she asked.
"I like to see you eat,” he smiled. “You seem to enjoy food so much."
"Too much, maybe,” Leah blushed. “I really should go on a diet."
"No. I like you as you are. Don't change."
"So? What have you got planned for the weekend?" Leah asked, stretching happily.
"Apart from the obvious, tomorrow I'll show you the house and the grounds. We could go for a walk to the village later and then eat at the pub."
"And what's the obvious?" Leah asked.
James leaned towards her and enclosed her hand in his.
"A whole night of having you here. Waking up together tomorrow. I want to take my time, Leah. I want to make you lose all your inhibitions. I want all of you, I just can't stop myself."
Leah swallowed, it was almost too much.
§
It was much later when James led her up the wide wooden staircase to his room. A corridor stretched to the left and right, into pools of darkness.
"How many bedrooms are there?" Leah asked quietly.
"On this floor there are eight rooms, and on the upper floor another six," James answered. "The whole was rather faded, my father didn't like change, so I've had all the main rooms restored. There are just four guest rooms left to do now."
He opened a door on his right, into a large room, and switched on the soft lights.
The floorboards were dark, the room furnished with heavy antique furniture, but the walls were decorated in a light green silk paper, the curtains were creamy, and there were soft rugs on the floor. In the centre stood a massive bed, high off the floor, all the linen in pure, plain white. It reminded Leah of an altar in a temple.
Was she going to be sacrificed?
"Is this king-sized?" she asked, the nerves jangling in her voice as she waved a hand towards the bed.
James shrugged. "Larger than that, a special commission," he said.
Leah wondered how many women he’d brought up to this room and slept with on this huge bed.
She wandered across and sat down on the edge.
"Wow, it's so bouncy!" she grinned, despite herself. She looked at James as she bounced again, her eyes shining.
"Oh, it can get better than that," he replied, walking towards her, slowly unbuttoning his expensive looking shirt. "Here, let me show you ..."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Leah lay back in the deep, scented water. It was almost unbelievable. They had made love into the early hours, slept for a while, then more. She had no idea of the time, but it was morning. She’d dragged herself from the comfortable bed to the luxurious en-suite which had previously been a dressing room attached to the main bedroom. She was aware that there had been no more talk during the night about getting to know each other, just the same overpowering physical need for each other. He had exhausted her; she didn't think she could take any more.
James put his head round the door.
"I've made you some breakfast," he announced.
With a feeling of total surprise, Leah hastily got out of the bath, dried herself, and put on her cotton dressing gown. First James getting the food out of the Aga last night, and now bringing her breakfast in bed! She wondered how long it would last. She really hadn't thought he was so domesticated.
There was a cup of coffee and two croissants on a tray. He obviously hadn't tried cooking, but even so, she appreciated the gesture.
"Breakfast in bed?" she said. "Thank you."
He nuzzled her neck. "You smell great," he murmured.
"Oh, James, I'm so ..."
"Exhausted?"
"Yes, but in a nice way."
"Then I'll give you a little rest. Just until later though."
§
“This is one of the guest rooms that’s finished,” James explained, as he held open the door to a very feminine room, all deep rose silk wallpaper and lace drapes, a little later that day. "I let the restorer have her head with the spare rooms. My mother has her own ideas with the rest."
He was showing Leah the upstairs of the house; the rooms that were newly decorated and the old-fashioned, faded elegance of the ones that were yet to be restored.
"This was Robbie's room," he said, as he held another door open and went in. Leah followed close behind.
"As you can see, nothing much has been changed. My mother kept all his stuff."
It was a surprisingly plain room, stripped wooden floor, and light coloured furniture and white walls. There were two single beds, covered with identical navy and white striped covers. The walls were covered in posters, everything from Star Wars, through rock bands and skimpily dressed models.
Barely an inch of the walls showed. Shelves held untidy piles of books, CDs, DVDs, magazines and a jumble of mixed objects - sweet wrappers, matches, cigarette packets, coins and pages torn from a book. A guitar was propped against the end of one bed. Leah found it all almost unbearably sad.
"Robbie and Sam always shared when Sam came to stay, although he could have had a room of his own." James leaned against the wall as he spoke, and there was a bleakness in his
voice.
"They must have been close friends," Leah observed.
"Too close,” he said. “They were trouble when they were together."
"How so?" Leah found that she desperately wanted to know more; more about James's childhood and more about the strangely unknown Sam that Lucy had married.
James looked down at one of the beds. He seemed to be thinking, about the past and his brother who had died so young.
"I can't blame Sam entirely. Imagine if you have a firework and a box of matches. Each on their own isn't dangerous, but light a match and set the firework off, and you have an explosion. That's what they were like together."
"Just high spirits?" Leah persisted. She couldn't seem to let it go.
"More than that. Vandalism. Setting fire to hay barns, letting the cattle out of the farms, going into the village and taking the wheels off cars, all just for fun. My father spent a lot of money covering their tracks. In the end he threatened to move Robbie to another boarding school and ban Sam from the house altogether."
"And did he?" she asked.
"No,” he sighed. “My mother persuaded him not to. She always had a soft spot for Sam ..."
"And was Robbie her favourite son?"
James shrugged. "I guess so, but I was older. I had my own life, and it didn't really get to me until later."
There was a pause and Leah glanced at him, leaning casually against the wall. She hoped he was going to continue.
"I was at Oxford. I must have been around twenty, and Robbie turned up one day. He was only fourteen, maybe nearly fifteen. I didn't know what he was doing travelling to see me on his own. He said he needed money. There was a girl, only fifteen, from the village. She'd been meeting them both in the woods, sharing the tent when Robbie and Sam camped out over the summer holidays. And now she was pregnant and they didn't know whose baby it was. They shared everything. I was angry that they’d been so irresponsible, getting the girl pregnant. Even at that age they should have known about precautions. I paid for a private clinic, a termination, and gave her a lump sum afterwards ... Her parents never knew."
"But you were only a student,” Leah gasped, shocked. “How could you afford something like that?”
"That was the easy part,” he replied. “I had a trust fund from my grandmother." James's voice was harsh now; he obviously found these memories of his wayward brother difficult, and he pushed himself away from the wall, as if he didn’t want to continue thinking about it anymore.
They moved on to the rest of the house, downstairs to the elegant dining room, a drawing room which looked out over a terrace towards the lake, and a library, study, snooker room and music room.
"There are more rooms at the back near the kitchen: what was the estate office, butler's pantry, outbuildings and so on, but I won't bore you," James said as they returned to the entrance hall. "Get your jacket. I'll take you around the grounds and the lake and we can follow the footpath to the village."
Leah noticed that he’d changed into casual, but expensive looking clothes – soft jeans, a blue linen shirt and navy cashmere sweater, with proper walking boots.
"Is it far,” she asked. “I only have my trainers ..."
"I noticed," he stated rather coldly.
§
It was a long walk through the grounds, past a tennis court and secluded walled garden, around the lake and down a country lane to the village. The Acorn was a simple village pub, with stone floors, beams and a cluttered mixture of benches and tables. James spoke to several people as he steered Leah towards a small table in the window.
He went up to the crowded bar and eventually came back with a pint of strong looking ale for himself and a large red wine for her.
Her heart flipped as she watched him threading through the Sunday crowds back towards her. How had this all happened, and what was she really doing here, she wondered.
"I've ordered roast beef, traditional, it's really good here. Just one drink, now. I don't want you falling asleep later ... I have plans for you." James was grinning at her as he spoke, and she blushed.
The food was just as good as he’d promised, and when they'd finished he held her hand as he led her along a different, winding lane behind the pub. The day was slipping away; it was a little cloudy and Leah wanted to be back at Thorley Manor in the high bed, just once more before their journey home in the evening.
"What do you do for relaxation?" she asked, wondering if James took any time off work.
"Well, in London, I'm in a rowing club. There's a gym and pool at the club as well. For New Year a group of us from Oxford usually go skiing at my chalet in Austria."
"Very active then. And what about the villa in France?" Leah was curious.
"It's been in the family for as long as I can remember. I've had it all re-designed, infinity pool and so on. It's a great place for taking girls," James replied.
Girls?
Leah wished she hadn't asked. Did he mean Elizabeth, or others as well? And did Elizabeth suspect? What sort of a relationship did they have anyway?
"Can you ski?" James asked.
"Never tried," Leah answered.
"I seem to remember you can swim though," he said.
"Not very well. I can just about keep my head above water, sort of a doggie paddle," Leah answered.
"I could get you swimming properly in a week at the villa," James declared.
A week at the villa in the South of France – was that what he had planned next? For her to be the latest in a string of willing girls? Leah flushed.
"It would be a bit out of my class," she snapped.
They walked on in silence, Leah was beginning to feel that the weekend was all going terribly wrong.
They came to a gate into the woods and James held it open.
"It says Private Property," Leah noticed.
"My property," James answered leading the way down a narrow, overgrown path, which led deeper into the quietness of the trees. It was darker in the woods and Leah shivered; this didn't seem to be a short cut.
He stopped and looked around, then grasped her wrist. "Down here," he said. "I want to show you something."
They entered a small clearing. James walked around it slowly, then stopped before a huge oak tree.
"Look, you can just see where I carved my initials," he said, pointing to a mark on the trunk of the tree.
It was a roughly carved heart with an arrow through, and initials: JW and ES. Who was ES, she wondered. Elizabeth?
"Evie Shore," James explained. He had read her thoughts. "Our mothers were friends and she used to come and play tennis in the summer. One really hot afternoon, we decided to go into the woods for some shade after a game. We were both thirteen. She was small and blonde, dressed in a white top and a short tennis skirt. I can still picture her. I kissed her against this tree. My first proper kiss and I was probably rubbish at it ..." He paused.
Leah waited. She wanted to hear the whole story, but she didn't want to break the spell.
All of a sudden, he put his hands on her shoulders and roughly pushed her back against the trunk.
"It was so quiet in the woods, and there we were, just like this," he growled, as he moved his hands, holding her face so firmly.
"Leah, will you please let your damned hair grow back,” he whispered, “I've got nothing to hold onto ..."
Leah shivered. Her legs were doing their usual own thing, her body responding so powerfully to him. She wanted to put her arms up around him to steady herself, but just then he kissed her.
"Then, I put my hands up inside her tennis shirt, just like this. I was trying to undo her bra, but I went to an all boys boarding school. It was all just theory. I didn't really have a clue how it worked."
He expertly undid hers and his hands slid over her breasts.
"What happened next?" Leah breathed, her voice trembling. She was losing control.
"I tried to get her tennis skirt up, but she wouldn't let me."
"Oh."
&n
bsp; "Then I grabbed the top of her skirt, around the waist like this, to pull it down, but she held onto it, so I let go."
He slipped his hands into the top of her jeans and slowly undid the top button.
"You're not going to say no are you?" he murmured.
§
It was early evening by the time they walked back to the house. The weekend was nearly over.
James had a quick shower and Leah lay again in the scented bath watching him, still thinking about how unpredictable things were whenever she was with him. She’d snapped at him about the villa in France and then he had swept her away in the woods with his recollections. She wanted to run her hands over his perfect, wet body. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to ask him where they went from here.
James threw on a navy towelling robe and strode into the bedroom.
"I'm just packing a few things," he said.
Leah stepped out of the bath and wrapped herself in a huge fluffy white towel, then followed him into the bedroom.
"Why do you have such large wardrobes in here?" she asked looking around.
"I keep whole duplicate sets of clothes,” he explained. “It saves bringing very much whenever I come down."
She realised, again, what a totally different lifestyle James lived. A house and housekeeper in London, a country estate in Norfolk, not to mention the multi million pound business he ran. Her heart sank, what on earth was she doing here. She could never fit into this kind of life.
She watched as he dressed and went back to the en-suite.
"Are you going to get dressed?" he asked, kissing the back of her neck as he passed.
Leah put on her clean cotton bra and knickers, her jeans and a different sweat shirt.
James had gone over to the mullioned window and was looking out into the distance, over the lake, at the expansive grounds and the woods. She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, leaning her head on his shoulder.
"Thank you for the weekend, it's been great," she said.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I love this place, but I look out, sometimes, and it's hard to think that this is really all mine. It's not just the house. There's the estate, too. The farms, the other people relying on me. Now it's just my mother most of the time and me occasionally. No father, no Robbie. It seems such a huge place to keep going just for us, but it's been in the family for generations."
Obsessed (BBW Billionaire Light Romance) Page 11
