A Wicked Persuasion (12 page)

‘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.

T
HE
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 illness, 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.

‘Your father’s downstairs. He wants to see you, Harriet. Are you up for that?’

Harriet blinked owlishly. ‘I need a few minutes to tidy myself up.’

When Harriet was back in the bed Margaret had remade Aubrey tapped on the door, but stayed in the open doorway.

‘How are you, Harriet?’

‘My head has settled down a bit, but a migraine always leaves me feeling feeble for a bit.’

‘You’ve obviously been overdoing things. You need a holiday.’

She frowned as the doorbell rang. ‘Is Margaret down there?’

‘No. She’s out shopping. I’ll see who it is.’

He came back a moment later with a vast basket of flowers. ‘I’ve brought them up to show you, but then I’ll take them downstairs in case they affect your head.’

Harriet stared at the extravagant display, her lips twitching as she read the message on the card.

‘They’re from James,’ she informed her father.

His jaw clenched. ‘I see. I’ll take them down and leave you in peace, then. Margaret won’t be long. Can I get you anything?’

‘No, thanks.’ She smiled a little. ‘I’m drowsy again. It’s all those pills.’

‘By the way, I called in at the garage. The car’s ready, and someone’s driving it up here this afternoon.’

Next day Harriet had showered, dressed and graduated to the sofa downstairs to listen to an audio book, but was soon feeling so bored with her inactivity she was delighted when Moira Graveney arrived.

‘If you don’t feel up to it I can go away again, Harriet.’

‘I’d love you to stay,’ Harriet assured her.

Moira sat on the end of the sofa, eyeing Harriet closely. ‘Are you better? Really? You don’t look very marvellous.’

‘Migraines tend to do that for me, but I’ll be fine by tomorrow.’

‘Has someone been taking care of you?’

‘Margaret Rogers, the wonder woman who looks after River House. I need to get back on top form because Julia’s bringing her crew down soon to do a photo shoot for her magazine,’ said Harriet, pulling a face.

Moira laughed. ‘Sounds like fun.’ She looked at the basket
of flowers in the window embrasure. ‘Someone’s been extravagant. Mr Corbett?’

‘No. Your brother. Let’s have some coffee,’ said Harriet, getting up.

‘I can make it,’ said Moira promptly, but Harriet shook her head.

‘I need to get back to normal.’ She went off to the kitchen and came back with the drinks and a plate of almond biscuits. ‘Margaret made these, too.’

‘Tell her that if ever she wants to change jobs there’s one waiting for her at the Old Rectory—these are heavenly.’ Moira put her coffee down. ‘Now, let’s get to the reason for my visit. I did, of course, want to see how you are. But I also have a proposition to make.’

‘Sounds exciting!’

‘Marcus owns a cottage overlooking a tiny private beach in Pembrokeshire. You obviously need a break, so why not take time off and pop down there for a couple of days? It would do you good to just lie in the sun, if there is any, and eat dinner in the local pub. What do you say?’

Harriet eyed her, tempted. ‘It sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.’

‘Then don’t. I think you’d like it there. Take some food basics with you, but there’s a very good village store.’ Moira smiled. ‘And the cottage will be immaculate, because Mrs Pugh who cleans it for us believes that cleanliness is next to Godliness, and in that order. So what do you say?’ She took out a key and dangled it in front of Harriet’s eyes.

Why not do something impulsive for once? Harriet smiled warmly. ‘I say yes, Mrs Graveney. Thank you very much indeed.’ She thought for a moment. ‘I’ll go down tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.’

‘Absolutely fine. Let’s hope nothing crops up in your life to get in the way. How’s your little niece doing?’

‘Much improved once Gervase hired a paediatric nurse to take care of her. But the real boost to Annabel’s recovery was the news that the Spanish girl who normally looks after her is returning to the Barclay household soon. It was a boost for my sister, too. Sophie was sure she was coming down with the same virus, but when she heard about Pilar she made a miraculous recovery.’

‘James told me he met your sister at some lunch party, while you were looking after her daughter, and then drove you home afterwards because you looked so exhausted.’

‘It was very kind of him.’

‘He says your sister looks nothing at all like you.’

‘No. She’s the pretty one. Julia is the brilliant one, and I’m—’

‘The hardworking one everyone relies on from the way your father talked about you at the party,’ said Moira, and grinned. ‘Though that was a bit hard to swallow when you wowed us with your tango!’

Harriet grinned back. ‘I get a mad moment now and then like anyone else, so I’ll have one now and snatch that key from you to skive off to Wales.’

‘That’s the spirit!’

Harriet paused, thinking—as she did far too much—of the dream-like episode in her bedroom. Had she really kissed James or had she just wanted to? Either way, she didn’t fancy talking to him any time soon. ‘Would you do me a favour? Could you pass on my thanks to James for the flowers? Tell him they were much appreciated.’

After Moira left Harriet’s recovery was rapid at the prospect of a weekend away from River House which, much as she loved it, sometimes felt like a millstone weighing her down. Her mood was boosted even further when her father
called in with a parcel containing a paperback crime novel and the DVD of a film she’d been looking forward to seeing. The note with it said:

‘How very nice of him,’ Harriet exclaimed.

‘I mentioned you were under the weather when I was in the bank today so he asked me to call back after lunch for this,’ said Aubrey. ‘You look better now. Mrs Graveney obviously cheered you up.’

Harriet told him about her proposed trip at the weekend, rather surprised to find her father strongly approved.

‘Splendid idea—do you the world of good. Let’s hope for good weather. You’ll need to be fit for Julia’s fashion shoot, so take a break while you can.’

‘Have you found somewhere to stay during the shoot?’

‘Oh, yes, no problem there,’ he assured her, but didn’t give details and Harriet didn’t ask for any.

Harriet was thoughtful after he’d gone. It had been a surprise to learn that her father thought of her with any approval at all, let alone as the most reliable of his three daughters. The mad moments she hadn’t told Moira about were few, but, unlike the tango, some had resulted in life-altering developments. The first had been her plan to leave home to live with James Crawford. When her father put a stop to that her eventual demand to take over the Lodge permanently had struck the final blow to détente between them. Yet lately, once he’d recovered from his anger over her deception about James and the party, Aubrey Wilde had been in a more conciliatory mood than usual, which made her suspicious. If he imagined she might return to live with him at River House he was sadly mistaken.