Love in Spring BoxSet

by Jenny Lane

  For an answer, he took her in his arms and whispered against her hair, “Rhianna Delroy. I love you deeply and want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  “Yes - oh, yes, please,” she breathed, blue eyes shining.

  There was a resounding cheer from the direction of the garden gate as he kissed her.

  Looking up, they saw a sea of grinning faces.

  “Aunty Tish said you’d be here…If you’re getting married, can I be a bridesmaid?” asked Katie.

  Rhia bent down to the little girl’s level.

  “You certainly can, because you’ve just given me such a good idea.”

  She walked to Letitia’s side and threw an arm about the elderly lady’s shoulder.

  “How would it be if I called you, Grandma Tish?”

  Letitia Delroy beamed. “That would be just fine, my darling grand-daughter.”

  CORNISH RHAPSODY

  Table of Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  For my Aunt Winifred who shares my love of Literature.

  ONE

  The journey from Paddington to Cornwall had turned out to be more enjoyable than Tamara had expected, for the man sitting opposite had provided her with a mine of interesting information about the West Country.

  She studied him now while pretending to read her novel. She judged him to be in his mid-thirties. He was tall and broad-shouldered. Crisp dark hair accentuated his bronzed skin and blue-grey eyes. She sensed that he was a man who was used to getting his own way, for there was a determined set to his jaw. Suddenly he caught her gaze and smiled – the smile revealed the suspicion of a dimple in his chin. Embarrassed at being caught staring, Tamara turned away.

  She twisted Cassie’s ornate emerald engagement ring and the fat gold wedding-band nervously round her finger. She had kept her gloves on until the very last moment, but it would have been ridiculous to have eaten cheese sandwiches with one’s gloves on! Bother Cassie, and this crazy charade Tamara was undergoing for her benefit. She must have been weak in the head to have consented to it.

  Tamara turned back to her copy of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, but she could not concentrate. It was strange how she had met up with her travelling companion. She had been struggling with her luggage into the station buffet and had cannoned straight into him, scattering the contents of her shopping-bag about his feet. For a moment he had stared at her incredulously, almost as if he had seen a ghost, and then he had rescued her magazine, tissues and other paraphernalia, guided her to a seat and insisted upon buying her coffee.

  It hadn’t taken them long to discover that they were both catching the Cornish Riviera. It was a relief to have him steer her to the right platform and assist her with her luggage. Strangely enough, he half reminded her of someone too, but she couldn’t think for the life of her who it was. He cut across her thoughts now.

  ‘We’re almost there – not a bad journey, was it? Is your husband meeting you?’

  They had kept clear of personal details throughout the journey, but here it was – the inevitable casual question. For one wild moment, Tamara found herself wanting to say airily, ‘Oh, no, I’m not married. It’s my sister Cassie, you see. I’ve taken her place for a few weeks to let her off the hook.’ He was looking at her curiously and she knew he wouldn’t understand – not unless he had met Cassie, at any rate. ‘I’m so sorry, I was miles away. Did you ask me something?’

  He repeated his question and Tamara, meeting his gaze steadily, said, ‘Oh, no – Oliver is away on a trip to the Amazon – exciting, isn’t it? I couldn’t accompany him and so I’m off to stay with my in-laws – I haven’t met them before, you see... They didn’t come for the wedding.’

  ‘Really?’ He seemed to invite further information.

  ‘We live in America,’ Tamara explained. ‘The Cassell-Boyds aren’t too keen on travelling that far and so…’ She trailed off, for he was giving her such a strange look.

  ‘Cassell-Boyd… You surely can’t be Oliver Cassell-Boyd’s wife?’

  Tamara wanted to say, ‘No, you’re quite right — I’m just plain Tamara Simpson — spinster schoolteacher from a rather unsalubrious London borough.’ Instead she smilingly nodded assent, supposing he’d read about the wedding in the local rag or something.

  He got up abruptly as they announced her station over the loudspeaker, and collected her suitcases for her while she hastily gathered her clutter together. She supposed her nylon shopping-bag looked rather incongruous with Cassie’s smart outfit.

  ‘Well, Mrs Cassell-Boyd, I hope you enjoy your holiday. It’s been nice speaking with you. Thank you for your company.’ He took her hand briefly. ‘Perhaps we’ll run into each other again – Falmouth’s not far after all, and I’ll be around for a week or two even if I don’t get the job.’

  Tamara smiled at him rather uncertainly. Since he had discovered her identity (or thought he had) his attitude towards her seemed to have changed. Could it be that he knew Oliver, and perhaps didn’t like him, she wondered? ‘Well, all the best for your interview,’ she said lightly.

  The train slid into the station and he picked up her cases. They exchanged goodbyes, and she waited on the platform, waving frantically as if to an old friend, until the train pulled away. As she reached the exit it suddenly dawned on her why he had looked so familiar. He was very like the man in the photograph that adorned her mantelpiece. A man she had never met — her brother-in-law, Oliver Cassell-Boyd!

  *

  During the short taxi journey to Rosemullion House, Tamara couldn’t get her travelling companion out of her mind. He had seemed so startled when she had told him who she was. Tamara licked her lips nervously and twirled Cassie’s rings round her fingers. Just supposing Cassie had made some dreadful mistake… Supposing Oliver’s expedition had fallen through at the last moment and he had come to Cornwall after all! What would Tamara do then? How would she explain her presence, and would anyone believe her?

  Common sense prevailed, and Tamara told herself that the man on the train couldn’t possibly have been her brother-in-law, for Oliver really was in the Amazon jungle involved in some scientific research. Cassie had received a letter from him posted in Brazil.

  The countryside they were passing through was interesting, but not picturesque. Apparently it was the seascapes that were so spectacular here in Cornwall. Gradually Tamara relaxed, and by the time she arrived at Rosemullion House, she was perfectly composed. After all, Cassie had obviously worked everything out to a fine art and besides, just in case of any problems, she had promised to keep in touch.

  Tamara was enchanted with the house. She had not realised that the Cassell-Boyds were so wealthy. The colonel and his wife, Miriam, were a charming couple who greeted Tamara affectionately. She felt a sham.

  Tamara had never before seen such opulence. Her room was the very lap of luxury with everything she could possibly need. Suddenly she felt annoyed with Cassie for being so selfish. Why couldn’t she have made an effort just for once? It surely wouldn’t have hurt her. Tamara sighed and began to unpack.

  She came across the elaborately wrapped gifts that Cassie had selected for her in-laws and put them carefully to one side. Tamara thought of the Degas prints that her sister had bought her. That was the trouble with Cassie – she always seemed to think that an expensive present would buy favours, and put everything right.

  ‘I knew they’d be just right for your flat, darling, and I shall get them framed for you – Yes, I insist,’ she had said. ‘But you must paint the walls a brighter shade… I’d help you if I’d time.’ And then she had turned to Tamara, a pleading expression on her face.

  ‘Darling Tam – will you do me a very big favour?’ And Tamara had waited, just as she had waited so many times in the past for Cassie to drop the bombshell.

  Cassie had perched on the
edge of Tamara’s old studio couch and explained about the opportunity that had suddenly arisen for her to take an acting job here in London and how, since their marriage, Oliver wouldn’t let her work. It was while working as an actress in America that she had met Oliver and, after a whirlwind romance, had married him.

  It transpired that a friend of Cassie’s was the producer of a play that was due to open in less than a fortnight. One of the cast had suddenly been taken ill and, unfortunately, the understudy just wasn’t up to the mark. It was a part that Cassie had played before on Broadway, and in desperation her friend, Sophie, had turned to her for help. As Cassie had spoken, her face had become animated.

  ‘Tam, it’s so simple… We can help each other and no-one, apart from Sophie, need ever know. It’s mean of Olly not to let me work, and meaner still of him not to let me go on the expedition and to palm me off on his parents instead… but if I back out, I’ll never hear the last of it. Besides, I don’t want to offend my in-laws. My idea would be a perfect compromise… You say you can’t afford a holiday this year?’

  ‘Not with this large mortgage recently tied round my neck... Okay, Cassie, what scheme are you hatching up now?’ Tamara had demanded.

  Eyes shining, Cassie had outlined her plan. On the surface it had all seemed very straightforward. Tamara was sufficiently like Cassie to pass for her amongst strangers, and so she would go to visit the in-laws that Cassie had never met and have a holiday in Cornwall, her train ticket already purchased by her sister. Cassie would remain in London and take the acting part.

  It had all seemed so tempting to Tamara, who desperately needed a holiday after a particularly exhausting term with a class of thirty demanding children, but she had still not been convinced. Cassie, however, had been extremely persuasive.

  ‘Oliver can’t contact me from the Amazon, and I’ve told him to phone your flat when he returns, because I’ll probably be staying with you by then – so it’s all very simple, don’t you see?... Oh, you know how I adore London and the theatre... Please be a sport, Tam.’

  Cassie had been so pleading that Tamara’s heart had melted as it invariably did, and she had decided to throw caution to the winds. Cassie had won once again.

  Tamara carefully hung the clothes that Cassie had insisted she borrowed in the capacious wardrobe, admiring her sister’s excellent taste.

  ‘Darling, I shall be practically living in jeans and sweat-shirts, and you’re the one that needs to make a good impression, after all,’ Cassie had told Tamara. Finally she had removed her rings. ‘People would think it very strange if you didn’t wear any and I shan’t need them on the stage... Oh, don’t look so worried, Tam, they’re properly insured!’

  Reluctantly, Tamara had taken the proffered rings and slipped them on her own finger and, from that moment, the masquerade had begun.

  At first glance, Tamara bore quite a striking resemblance to Cassie, but her sister’s features were more finely moulded than hers. Cassie’s skin was more creamy, her hair a richer chestnut and her eyes a clearer grey. Yes, Tamara thought wistfully, I am just a shadow of Cassie, even though I’m the eldest. She has the strong personality, the vivacity and sparkle. I’m just a quiet little mouse in comparison, who couldn’t even make a success of romance. Tamara had been jilted at the eleventh hour almost a year ago.

  ‘Never mind, darling,’ Cassie had consoled her once, ‘you have the beautiful name.’ Cassie’s name had never ceased to be a bone of contention. ‘Our parents must have run out of inspiration after you were born,’ she had grumbled. Cassandra had been a family name for generations and Cassie loathed it, but didn’t object to the diminutive. It was just like her to marry someone called Cassell-Boyd.

  ‘I’m always telling Olly that’s why I married him – for his name... and his money, of course,’ she had said with that incorrigible smile of hers.

  ‘I do so hope you won’t be bored, Cassie,’ Miriam Cassell-Boyd said. Tamara looked around her at the elegant drawing-room. Through the French windows were sweeping lawns and flowerbeds brilliant with fuchsias and godetias, and in the distance there would be the sea.

  ‘Why no, I’m sure I’m going to love it here,’ she replied honestly.

  ‘Can’t understand Oliver,’ the colonel remarked, puffing away at his pipe. ‘Pretty young gal like you and he sends you down here instead of taking you along with him... Didn’t you want to go on the expedition?’

  Tamara tried to sound convincing. ‘Oh, yes, but Oliver couldn’t take me this time... He said I wouldn’t have enjoyed it... all those snakes and things.’ She shuddered quite genuinely.

  ‘Perhaps not... Well, when are we going to see him, then? This year, next year, some time, never, I suppose.’

  ‘I don’t really know,’ Tamara said uncomfortably.

  Miriam patted her shoulder. ‘Of course she doesn’t, Arnold. You know how unpredictable Oliver is – and his work is very important and trying. After all, he did phone before he left for the Amazon – all the way from New York... It sounded just as if he were in the next street, Cassie – as clear as a bell.’

  The colonel peered at Tamara over his spectacles. ‘You play bridge, don’t you?’ he barked suddenly out of the blue.

  ‘A – a little,’ Tamara confessed uneasily. Cassie was a brilliant player. She had attended evening classes and never looked back; it was more her scene than Tamara’s. The colonel tapped his pipe.

  ‘Mm – if what Oliver tells us is right, you’re being modest, young woman. He says you’re very good indeed.’

  ‘We must have a bridge party,’ Miriam beamed brightly. ‘Ask a few people over to meet Cassie.’

  Tamara tried to look pleased, but was inwardly dismayed. Cassie had assured her that the Cassell-Boyds entertained very modestly nowadays. It would be quiet at Rosemullion House, just how Tamara would like it. She could read, sketch, swim and go for long walks to be alone with her thoughts.

  ‘It’s just the sort of peaceful holiday you need, darling, to get over that wretched Ian… Who knows you might even meet someone else…’ She had trailed off as she had caught sight of the expression on Tamara’s face. ‘Sorry, Tam, but you can’t go on carrying a torch for him for ever, you know.’

  ‘I’m not,’ Tamara had denied fiercely. ‘But once bitten twice shy so far as I’m concerned. Just don’t expect me to become involved with anyone else, that’s all. I’m going to remain single for the rest of my days, so you might as well get used to the idea... I’m perfectly happy as I am, thank you very much.’ But was she? All the while she was busy it wasn’t so bad, but now during the long holiday would come the test –the time when she had to pretend the hardest.

  The colonel was regarding Tamara expectantly, and she realised that he must have been talking to her. ‘I’m sorry, you were saying?’

  ‘Nothing important, my dear, just prattle. You must be tired after that long journey – have an early night if you feel like it.’

  The conversation turned to Tamara’s parents. She told the Cassell-Boyds how her father had recently retired and they had gone to stay with her brother William and his wife, in Canada for three months.

  ‘And do your brother and his wife have any children?’

  ‘Two – a boy and a girl.’

  Miriam Cassell-Boyd smiled and looked meaningfully at Tamara.

  ‘I can’t wait for my first grandchild.’

  Tamara thought of Cassie’s comments on the subject of babies, but she didn’t like to disappoint Miriam, who took her silence to be embarrassment. ‘You’ve got a sister too, haven’t you?’

  ‘Yes, Tamara. She’s older than me and a school-teacher. She’s got a flat just outside London and I’ve spent the last few days with her.’ Tamara left it there unwilling to discuss herself any longer.

  Suddenly the telephone shrilled making them all jump.

  ‘Whoever can that be at this time of night?’ asked Miriam.

  ‘The easiest way to find out is to answer the wretched thing,’ said
the colonel abruptly. He got to his feet, and a few moments later they heard the sound of rapid and surprised conversation. Mrs Cassell-Boyd was straining to hear.

  ‘I just can’t imagine who that can be...’

  Tamara had a strange feeling that something was about to happen to change the quiet course of events in that household. Perhaps she was a bit psychic.

  Eventually the colonel’s footsteps sounded across the hall and he reappeared in the doorway looking bemused.

  ‘Miriam – you’ll never believe it! That was Richard phoning from Falmouth... He’s coming home at last!’

  When she had got over the initial shock, Miriam began to think of all the things that would have to be done before her son’s arrival the following afternoon. His bed was unaired and the curtains needed repairing. In all the excitement, the Cassell-Boyds seemed to have temporarily forgotten Tamara. Miriam clasped her arm now.

  ‘My dear, you must forgive us for neglecting you – it’s all so unexpected, you see... I dare say Oliver will have explained that his brother’s a doctor, although they don’t get on too well, I’m afraid. Richard’s been away in Africa at some kind of mission hospital in one of the more undeveloped countries.’

  It was with a sense of shock that Tamara learnt that Oliver’s brother was coming to stay at Rosemullion House. Frantically, she racked her brain to try to remember anything of significance that Cassie had told her about Richard, but she was sure that her sister had scarcely mentioned him. Tamara wondered if Richard Cassell-Boyd was going to make things difficult for her. How long had he been in Africa? Had he by any chance gone to his brother’s wedding and, if so, would he realise that Tamara was an imposter? It was all very disturbing. She chanced a question.

  ‘Didn’t you know Richard was returning to England?’

  The colonel shook his head. ‘We’d no idea – it’s come as a total surprise. It appears he didn’t decide himself until the last moment. He was considering whether or not to renew his contract when he saw this post advertised at a hospital near Falmouth.’ He turned to his wife. ‘I suppose Melissa must have kept him informed. We haven’t mailed him any medical journals recently, have we?’