Distracted by her Virtue (4 page)

The idea of her elderly relative giving short shrift in response to those enquiries brought an instant smile to Sophia’s lips. It also reminded her of the great responsibility of taking care of such a house. With the proceeds from the sale of the house she’d shared with her husband and a not insubstantial part of her inheritance from her aunt already gone to help pay off his debts, it was vital that she was able to revive the photographic career that had promised to take off when she’d left college. The career that when she’d had Charlie she’d foolishly and naively put aside, to be the stay-at-home wife and mother that her husband had demanded she be.

A residence the size and importance of High Ridge demanded that she earn a healthy income to maintain it. What little money that was left from her inheritance after all her outgoings were met wasn’t going to last very long. Thankfully she’d kept a note of some of the contacts she’d made after leaving college, and had already been in touch with two very interested parties who liked the sample photos she’d sent them.

Her thoughts gravitated back to Jarrett. The idea of him using his sister’s invitation to seize a chance to view the house at close quarters seriously bothered Sophia. She didn’t know if that
had
been his motivation for a fact, but still she preferred the notion that it was her company he sought and
not
a closer acquaintance with her home. Warning herself not to forget even for a second that she’d sworn off relationships with men for good after enduring the living nightmare that had
been her marriage, she determinedly buried the familiar feelings of failure and loneliness and reaffirmed her vow to put any further thoughts of Jarrett Gaskill aside.

Feeling somewhat calmer at this resolve, she carefully transported her still sleeping son inside the house. Settling him down on the threadbare old couch, she decided to let him doze for a little longer … at least until she’d prepared their dinner.

To please his sister, Jarrett did what she told him he was so naturally adept at and effortlessly mingled and chatted to her and her husband’s friends at the little
soirée
she’d arranged—even though he secretly
hated
it. He did enough schmoozing at the corporate functions and meetings relating to his property business without replicating the behaviour in his supposed free time.

It was rare that he had a weekend off, and when he did he much preferred to be left to his own devices. He liked to take long walks in the countryside surrounding his house, listen to opera on his state-of-the-art music centre or catch up on the stack of films he had missed at the cinema because he’d inevitably been working. Yet agreeing to be sociable with his sister’s friends and neighbours wasn’t the
only
reason that he’d agreed to be present at her house this warm spring Saturday afternoon. All week Jarrett had hardly been able to think about anything but seeing Sophia Markham again. He couldn’t forget the sight of her beautiful emerald eyes bathed in tears. It troubled him that she might be sad or lonely, yet if he was honest underneath his compassion he couldn’t help wondering if there might be a way to persuade her to sell High Ridge to him. Painting her sitting room by herself didn’t suggest that money
was exactly plentiful, he mused. And if she agreed to entertain the idea of selling he would pay her a more than fair price.

His hopes lifting, Jarrett looked forward even more to seeing Sophia again. But the get-together had been underway for almost two hours and he was getting bored. There was only so much inconsequential chitchat he could bear, even for his sister, and there was still no sign of Sophia, although Beth assured him that she’d rung to say she was coming.

He was just debating whether to go up to the house and check to see if anything was amiss when the doorbell’s familiar cheery melody chimed through the hallway. As luck would have it he was standing in the vicinity, endeavouring to listen attentively to his brother-in-law Paul’s enthusiastic description of the new car he was going to buy. Privately he thought it was a bad choice, and he had just been thinking he would have a quiet word with Beth about it so she could nudge him in the direction of something better when the doorbell had rung. Without a flicker of guilt he moved down the hall to answer it. His body was already tightening warmly in anticipation of seeing High Ridge’s lovely new owner again.

‘Hi … I’m sorry if we’re a little late.’

The statement came out in a breathless rush, and Sophia Markham’s apologetic smile as he opened the door rendered him almost speechless because it was so bewitching.

Waiting patiently for his response, she drew Charlie protectively against her side. It wasn’t hard to see that the child meant the sun, moon and stars to her.

Staring at her as she stood before him, in faded
jeans, colourful knitted tank-top and long unbuttoned navy blue cardigan, he likened her appearance to a breath of longed-for fresh air that a prisoner might greedily gulp down when he’d been freed from solitary confinement. Today her pretty dark hair hadn’t been left loose to flow down over her shoulders—instead she’d fashioned it into two very becoming braids. In contrast, the other women at the small party had seized the opportunity to show off their wardrobes and were dressed up to the nines. Personally, Jarrett thought such a brash display was unnecessary and over the top. He himself had dressed in a casual white shirt and black jeans faded almost to grey—his usual mode of attire when he wasn’t at work—and he was very glad to see that Sophia had opted to do the same.

‘Don’t worry about being late … Beth will kill me for saying it, but you’ve haven’t exactly missed anything. It’s good to see you.’ After speaking at last, he grinned, then leaned down to squeeze Charlie’s shoulder. ‘It’s good to see you too, Charlie. Why don’t you both come inside?’

‘Hello, there, I’m Paul Harvey—Beth’s husband. How nice to meet you at last, Ms Markham.’

‘And you, Mr Harvey.’

‘Call me Paul.’

Sophia didn’t invite the other man to call her by her first name in return, Jarrett noticed, silently approving. He had no earthly right to feel so possessive towards her, but for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain he
did
.

‘Let’s go and meet everyone,’ he suggested, gesturing for her and her son to precede him.

The conversations that littered the air as they walked in abruptly ceased as Jarrett escorted Sophia into the
stylishly furnished living room. Even the softly playing jazz emanating from the music centre seemed to grow quieter. His sister Beth immediately peeled herself away from the trio of women she’d been deep in conversation with and presented herself to her new guest with an enthusiastic handshake, followed by the characteristic peck on the cheek with which she greeted all her friends.

‘Hi, Sophia, I’m Beth Harvey—Jarrett’s sister. I had no idea you’d be so pretty! I’m so glad you could come … your son too. Jarrett tells me that his name is Charlie?’

‘That’s right.’

Inside that perfectly decorated room, with its carefully chosen, strategically arranged amalgam of modern and antique furniture, surrounded by a bunch of curious strangers, Sophia looked ill at ease. Her coral lips were pursed together tightly as she listened to his sister gush, and Jarrett intuited that she’d rather be anywhere else but here. He was intrigued to know what had persuaded her to put in an appearance at all. Clearly she’d wrestled with the decision for some time—why else had she been so late in arriving? Something else struck him. He’d always regarded the sister who shared his own dramatic colouring of ebony hair and blue eyes as unquestionably pretty. However, next to Sophia’s finely drawn beautiful features and bewitching emerald eyes Beth seemed merely attractive.

Frowning, because he felt such an opinion somehow betrayed his loyalty to his sibling, he gently touched his palm to her back in the fitted red dress she was wearing, as if to signal filial support.

‘Say hello, Charlie,’ Sophia quietly instructed her son.

Bestowing upon Jarrett a gap-toothed grin, the charming small boy with his mop of luxuriant dark curls focused his gaze on him alone. ‘Hello, Mr Gaskill. Can I see your sister’s dog? Where is he?’

‘You’ve met Dylan before, have you?’ Beth dropped down so that she was level with Charlie.

The boy was initially wary, but when she reached for his hand and gently held it for a moment, smiling at him with her great blue eyes, he seemed to relax. ‘Yes … we were down by the stream so that my mum could take some photographs for her work. That’s when we saw Mr Gaskill and your dog.’

‘Well, if you’d like to see him again he’s out in the garden, sitting outside his kennel.’

‘What’s a kennel?’

‘It’s like a small house for a dog,’ Jarrett told him with a teasing wink.

Charlie spun round to gaze up at his mother. ‘Can I, Mummy? Can I go out to see Dylan?’

Such an innocent and natural request shouldn’t put panic into Sophia’s lovely green eyes, but disturbingly Jarrett registered that it did. She even laid a hand possessively on Charlie’s shoulder as if to prevent him from leaving.

‘Where is the garden?’ she immediately quizzed Beth.

‘Just out there through the patio doors … Don’t worry, it’s nowhere near big enough for him to get lost in.’

Biting down on her lip, Sophia was still undoubtedly hesitant. ‘I’m sure that’s true. There isn’t a gate at the back he can get out of?’

‘No, there isn’t.’

‘That’s good. Our own garden is a bit like a forest, and I have to keep a close eye on Charlie when he goes out there to play. I suppose I’ve just got into the habit of making sure he’s secure.’ She coloured, as if regretting calling attention to her own hardly humble abode. ‘It needs a lot of work doing to it, I’m afraid.’ she murmured. ‘The weeds have gone absolutely rampant in all this rain we’ve been having, but I’m getting the house into shape before I see to the garden.’

Rising to her full height once again, Beth reassuringly patted the other woman’s arm. ‘Well, compared to the gardens at High Ridge our garden is fairly modest, I promise you. Charlie can’t get lost out there. And there are no ponds or anything like that to worry about either. Besides, he’ll have Dylan to play with. Do you want to get his ball and throw it for him, Charlie?’

‘Yes, please!’ The lad didn’t need much inducement.

‘His ball is in a box just under the steps,’ Beth told him.

As Sophia reluctantly released the light grip on his shoulder, as if intuiting his mother’s concern, Charlie turned to throw her a disarming grin. ‘I’ll be all right, Mummy—promise!’ he said, and without further ado he flew out through the open patio doors onto the decking area, where two long tables were laden with platters of what remained of the delicious food Beth had prepared.

The repast still looked appetising in the watery spring sunshine, even though the hungry guests had helped themselves to a fair amount of it already.

Pounding down the wooden steps, fetching the dog’s ball and racing out into the neatly mown garden,
Charlie called loudly, ‘Dylan! Dylan! Do you remember me? I’m Charlie. Come here, boy!’

‘I’ll introduce you to everyone in a moment—but first let me get you a drink, Sophia.’

Beth cleverly brought the other woman’s attention back from her anxious perusal of her disappearing son. Paul had joined them just as Charlie had run out into the garden, and now Jarrett’s sister turned to him with one of the dazzling persuasive smiles that her husband had always found so hard to resist.

‘Darling? Would you be a love and get Sophia a nice glass of champagne?’

‘No!’

The loud, vehement refusal sent a buzz of shock eddying round the other guests—Jarrett included …

S
HE
felt like a fool, blurting out her refusal as forcefully as she had. As soon as the impassioned exclamation had left her mouth Sophia had wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. It made her feel like the one jarring note in a symphony that had been harmonious until her arrival. Yet, blunt as her refusal had been, she had good reason to detest alcohol. Living with a violent alcoholic whose behaviour had been coloured by terrifying unpredictable rages was apt to make a woman deeply despise it—
fear
it as well.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, reddening. ‘I just meant to say that I’m teetotal. Do you have some lemonade or cola, perhaps, instead?’

‘Sure. No problem.’

Paul Harvey shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos and Sophia saw that his initially welcoming manner was now tinged with wariness. It made her bitterly regret deciding to attend the party. It was true she’d wrestled with the idea of staying away.
That was why she and Charlie had arrived so late
. As her host turned away to get the promised soft drink, his wife Beth issued her a sympathetic smile. Along with her guests, no doubt she was privately wondering at the
reason why the newest member of the village should have reacted to the offer of champagne so violently.

Sophia prayed that the other woman wouldn’t take it upon herself to quiz her at any point. The last thing she felt like doing was explaining herself to her perfect-looking hostess with her perfect-looking life, friends and husband. How could such a protected woman even
begin
to understand the pain, degradation and humiliation of the life Sophia had led with her husband? And all the reasons
why
she hated alcohol?

Silently warring with the strongest urge to just turn around and leave, she let her anxious gaze fall into Jarrett’s. His strong brow was etched with the faintest frown, yet when his clear blue eyes met hers he somehow transmitted reassurance. She found herself latching onto it like a life raft.

Jarrett didn’t yet know what Sophia’s issues with alcohol were, but he was determined to find out. He’d genuinely hoped that this party would help her to make some friends, so that she and Charlie wouldn’t feel like isolated strangers in the community for long, but already he sensed that her unconventional appearance—not bowing to the dictates of current fashion trends—and her forthright refusal of an alcoholic drink had put the other guests on their guard.