Fragrance of Violets (14 page)

While he was talking, a growing sense of disquiet built up inside Abbey. Not exactly jealousy, but more like a hollow feeling in her stomach at the thought of Jack having fun with Rachel, laughing and joking together. His final sentence startled her.

“Wh-what do you mean?” she stuttered.

* * * * *

Jack hesitated before replying. He wasn’t sure how much to tell her.

“To begin with, I thought Rachel was as single-minded as you, determined to succeed in a cut-throat profession, but her ambition went much further. There were times when I knew she employed some—I guess the best word is unethical—methods to obtain information. That made me uncomfortable, but she laughed it off and said it was what you had to do to get to the top. Once she decided to switch to entertainment journalism, things started to go badly wrong between us. It wasn’t my scene at all. I’ve always been far more interested in world-changing issues—global warming, environmental problems, famine, natural disasters, etcetera. During the next year, I landed various contracts—good ones where I had to travel to the Far East and Africa. Rachel became jealous, and I guess her bitterness ended up being directed at me.”

Abbey’s face creased in concern. “That must have been hard to take.”

“Yes, it was, but the resentment wasn’t all one-sided. When I was in L.A., she insisted we went to showbiz events and parties. She wanted to network with the people who could give her the juiciest gossip, and was forever trying to make contact with B-list celebrity wannabes who would feed her titbits about Hollywood scandals. I knew this wasn’t the life I wanted, and eventually I told her I intended to come back to England. That was the night she stalked out in a fury—and was killed.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard as he remembered again the fight they had that evening, and all the things he yelled at her. Opening his eyes again, he gave a helpless shrug. “And now I’m having problems coping with the guilt. If I hadn’t refused to go to the charity bash that night, I’d have been driving, and she would still be alive.”

“Jack, you can’t take all the blame,” Abbey said gently.

He turned to her and his voice choked. “I thought I was in love with her, but I fell out of love when—okay, I have to say it, when I realised she wasn’t you. I knew it was you I loved, and Rachel had been a substitute.”

The words slipped out, and he mentally kicked himself when he saw the shock register in her eyes. During the last two days, he’d told himself he needed to take things slowly but, sitting so close to her, with the fresh scent of her hair invading his nostrils and her beautiful green eyes gazing at him with such understanding and compassion, he knew he was more in love with her now than he’d ever been. And he wanted her, urgently and desperately. Wanted to wrap his arms around her, kiss her, trail his hands and mouth around every inch of her body, and make love to her.

Instinct told him unless he backtracked quickly, she’d put up that wall around herself again. “You seem surprised, but we both admitted the other night that there’s some chemistry between us, and it’s different from when we were in our teens, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but—” She struggled to find the words. “I told you on Friday night I was confused, and I still am.”

“Wasn’t that because you thought I was still in love with Rachel?”

“Partly. I was convinced you were going to tell me you weren’t ready for another relationship.”

“Was that what you wanted?”

“Yes—no—I mean, I would have understood, and I could have handled it. I wanted us to be friends again.”

His heart sank but he didn’t intend to give up. “And that’s all you want? Friendship? And yet the way you kissed me, even the way you’re looking at me now, says you want more than that.”

She gave him a half-smile. “Am I so transparent?”

Desire rose in him again as her eyes met his, questioning but still very uncertain. He slid his arm along the back of the couch but didn’t risk moving his hand to rest on her shoulder. “Only because I know you so well.”

“And you know I’m a bundle of insecurities and the reason for that.”

He nodded. Whatever else they managed to resolve, everything came back to her father and the devastating effect he’d had on her life. “You said you knew not all men were like your father.”

“Yes, I say the words, and I believe them, but there’s still a part of me—” She broke off and gazed into the middle distance. “Louise said something the other day that made me think. Farrell, her boyfriend, told her that once she forgave her father, she’d be able to move on and take ownership of her life again. She’s decided that what Dad did in the past isn’t going to affect the rest of her life, and she’s right, but I don’t know how to do it, and I’m so unsure about things, and scared, too.”

“Do you know what you’re scared of?”

She gave a short, brittle laugh. “Everything, I suppose. Relationships. Opening myself up to—to—”

“To love?” he prompted.

“I was going to say to hurt, and disappointment, and heartbreak. I’m not even sure what love means. Oh, I know I love my mother and my two sisters, but this is different.”

“Why?”

“Because it demands a commitment from me that I don’t know how to give. I’m not even sure I’m capable of giving it.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Not really.”

“What does that mean?”

“There was someone a few years ago, when I was in my final year at drama school. We dated for about six months, and I thought I was in love with him. He was funny and good company, and we worked well together in several productions.”

“Did you go to bed with him?”

She stiffened, and he waited for her to say it was none of his business. Instead, she grinned. “You always did come straight to the point, didn’t you, Jack? The short answer is yes, I did. A group of us went to Ibiza to celebrate after we finished drama school. Josh and I shared a room—and a bed,” she added, and shrugged. “It wasn’t what I’d call the best experience of my life.”

A painful jolt of jealousy shot through him, making him wish he hadn’t asked, but he still had to know. “Why not?”

Her cheeks coloured. “It didn’t do anything for me. You know, we read things about fireworks going off, the earth moving, and all that stuff, but I didn’t feel anything.”

He made up his mind that when they made love, he’d make damn sure those fireworks went off. “Did you carry on dating him?”

“By the end of the holiday, he decided he preferred one of my friends.”

He cringed. Another man letting her down.

She must have read his thoughts, because she laughed. “Oh, I didn’t go off into a drastic decline because he finished with me. Actually I was relieved, and then I got the Jane Eyre part, so all my time and energy went into that.”

“And there’s been no one else?”

She gave him a mischievous grin. “Well, I fancied Rob Whiteley when he was my leading man in
Dark Secrets
, and Jake Lowell was okay, at least to look at, but you could get drunk from the smell of whisky on his breath, and then there was—”

“Abbey—”

“What?” Her eyes widened in innocence until she giggled. “Yes, I know. I’m doing what used to drive you mad, aren’t I? Being flippant when I don’t want to be serious.”

“Why don’t you want to be serious?” Now he did move his hand a couple of inches until it rested on her shoulder, and relaxed with relief when she didn’t flinch or move away. “Abbey, I’ve been honest with you. I’ve told you I love you, but it doesn’t mean I want to rush you into something you’re not sure about. Besides,” he tightened his hand on her shoulder, “I still have a lot of guilt to resolve, you know.”

“We both need time, don’t we?”

“Are you prepared to give it a go and see if we can make it work?”

“Can you be patient with me?”

“I think I need you to be patient with me, too. Deal?”

She smiled. “Okay, deal.”

CHAPTER 14

Abbey rested her head against Jack’s shoulder as the taxi took them back to the village. The smooth fabric of his jacket was comforting against her cheek, and his arm around her felt even better. His admission that he was in love with her gave her what she knew Louise would call the
warm fuzzies
.

That surprised her. She’d told Louise she would run a mile if Jack wanted more than a casual friendship, but her inner instincts told her she wanted more, too. At the same time, a small shiver of anxiety ran through her when she realised she’d allowed him to break through the barrier she’d built to protect her emotions. Was she capable of giving more? But he’d promised to be patient, which dissipated some of her fears.

After all, this was Jack, who understood her
and
all her baggage. Could he help her to move on, like Farrell had helped Louise?

“Okay?” he asked, after he’d paid the taxi driver and they stood on the small grass verge in front of the row of stone houses.

She smiled. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“You’ve been thinking. Are you having doubts already?”

“No, quite the opposite, but please don’t expect an overnight transformation. Give me time, Jack.”

“Take as much time as you need, sweetheart. And speaking of time, do you have to work every day in the shop? Because I’d love to go hiking and sailing with you again. We could even revisit our old haunts and sit talking for hours in the Sun Café, for example.”

“Putting the world to rights, like we used to do? Let me talk to Mum. Before I came back here, one of her friends helped in the shop. She still does when we’re busy. I’m sure I can get a few days off.”

“Good. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Are you coming to the drama club on Tuesday evening?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to interfere.”

“Interfere? Don’t talk rubbish. You gave the kids lots of ideas last week. Surely you want to find out what they come up with?”

“Yes, that would be interesting.”

“So consider yourself an honorary member of the club.” She glanced at the house and back at Jack. “Would you like to come in? The light upstairs is Mum’s room, which means she’s either reading or watching TV in bed.”

Jack shook his head. “Perhaps another night?”

He gazed at her for a long moment, and a tingle of delight simmered in her veins as he bent forward until his mouth met hers. His soft and gentle kiss was more arousing than any fierce kiss, and he put his arms around her, pulling her against him. Abbey raised her hands to his shoulders as delicious sensations rippled through her. She slid one hand round to the back of his head and parted her lips for him. When his tongue sought hers, she responded, delighting in the teasing dance their tongues made together.

Their kiss continued for several minutes. She loved the scent of his cologne, loved his strong shoulders where her hand gripped him, loved the silkiness of his thick hair between her fingers, and loved the bulge of his hard arousal against her stomach.

When he eventually broke away, she was limp with longing.

His blue eyes smiled down at her. “I need to go, otherwise—”

She forced herself back to reality. “Yes.”

“You’ll see if you can get some time off?”

“I’ll ask Mum tomorrow.”

“Night, Abbey.”

Regret, exhilaration, and relief juggled for priority in her mind. Regret because her need for him wasn’t going to be satisfied, at least not yet. Exhilaration at making at least a start on admitting her feelings for him. Relief that he was giving her time to be sure.

She watched him in the silvery glow of the moon as he walked back toward the main road. After returning his final wave, she went to open the front door.

Once inside, she stopped and inhaled deeply. Warmth enveloped her, and she tried to ignore the small shiver of fear.

* * * * *

“Mum, any chance of getting Sandra to help in the shop later this week?” she asked with careful nonchalance while they were having breakfast the next morning.

“Do I need to ask why?”

Despite the glimmer of understanding in her mother’s eyes, Abbey’s cheeks flooded with heat. “Jack suggested we might go hiking or sailing.”

Edwina nodded. “It’s about time you took some days off to enjoy yourself, and I’m sure either Sandra or Hilary would help.” She paused for a moment. “Is everything okay between you and Jack?”

“Everything’s fine.”

It was an understatement when she wanted to say,
Everything’s wonderful because he said he loves me, and I think I’m falling in love with him.

A couple of hours later, she glanced curiously through the shop window when a white van labelled
Carmen’s House of Flowers
pulled up outside.

The driver came in with a bouquet of red roses in a silver wrapper tied with a large red bow. “Ms. Abigail Seton?”

Abbey nodded. “That’s me.”

The young man grinned. “Good. He said I had to deliver these before eleven o’clock or he’d have my head on a plate.”

She laughed. “You’ve made it with twenty minutes to spare. Thank you.” She took the flowers from him. “Want a cup of tea while you’re here?”

“Thanks, but I’m parked on double yellow lines, and if your car park attendant spots me, he’ll be the one putting my head on a plate. Cheers, love. Enjoy your flowers.”

“Red roses?” Edwina said as Abbey held the flowers to her face and inhaled the musky fragrance. “Two dozen if I’m not mistaken. He doesn’t do things by halves, does he? I’m assuming they’re from Jack. Is there a card with them?”

Abbey found the small envelope stapled to the edge of the wrapper and pulled out the card, which read,
Here’s to us. Love J
.

“Do we have a vase here?” she asked.

“Abbey, do me a favour and look around the shop, will you?”

She giggled. “Sorry, Mum, I meant one of our vases, not shop stock.”

“Oh, take one of the Cumbrian crystal ones off the shelf. The flair vase should do very nicely, and we’ll display the flowers here on the counter.”

Abbey left her mother to serve the customers while she went into the storeroom to unwrap the roses and fill the vase with water.

When her phone rang, she looked up at the wall clock. Exactly eleven o’clock, and Jack’s name appeared on her screen.

“The flowers are beautiful,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

“Good, you got them. I told the guy in the shop—”

She laughed. “Yes, he said he had to deliver them before eleven.”

“That’s because I have a meeting starting at eleven-fifteen.”

* * * * *

Jack couldn’t tell her his meeting was a book signing session at Watson’s bookstore in Carlisle. He’d been annoyed when Farrell arranged it without consulting him. It was only about fifty miles from Rusthwaite, too close to home for comfort, but he couldn’t refuse once it was advertised.

“Did you manage to get any days off?” he asked.

“Yes, Mum has asked a couple of friends to help, so I’m not working on Wednesday or Thursday.”

“Good. I’m going up to Glasgow tonight, but I should be home by about five o’clock tomorrow. We can decide tomorrow evening what we want to do.”

Abbey laughed. “Do I need to find my hiking boots?”

“Only if you intend to get us stranded on Harrison Stickle again.”

“Oh gosh, I remember that. We took the wrong route down and—”

“Hold on a minute.” Jack half-turned as the manager of the bookstore approached him. He pressed his hand tightly over his phone’s mouthpiece.

“We’re ready for you now, Mr. Tyson,” the manager said.

“Thanks. Give me a couple of seconds.” He prayed Abbey hadn’t been able to hear the man’s voice.

“Sorry, gotta go,” he said quickly into the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”

“Okay. Have a good meeting, Jack.”

As he clicked off his phone, Jack tightened his lips. He hated having to resort to this kind of subterfuge, but he couldn’t risk her knowing the truth yet. All he hoped was that Farrell would have some good news for him soon.

* * * * *

When she walked up the lane to Fir Garth on Tuesday evening, Abbey could hardly believe only a week had passed since the last time she’d been there for the drama club meeting. During the past few days, her life seemed to have changed direction, and her angst had given way to elation. Her heart danced at the prospect of seeing Jack again.

He was setting out the chairs when she went into the barn, and greeted her with a kiss on her cheek before handing her a key. “It’s for the barn door. I’ve had keys made for everyone, in case I’m not here when they want to start their meetings.”

“We shouldn’t need them for very long, now the trustees have the funds to repair the roof of the Old School. Your donation was more than generous, Jack.”

“It was some of the money from the sale of our apartment in Santa Monica. I’d been thinking about giving it to charity, and in this case, charity definitely begins at home. Tom Williams called me today, by the way. The builders will start on the roof next week, and the trustees are also having plans drawn up for modernising the kitchen and bathrooms, and a more efficient central heating system installed. Oh, and the whole place will be redecorated.”

“It’s going to be palatial compared with what it was before. They should rename it the
Jack Tremayne Building
.”

“No way. It’ll always be the Old School to me. It was where I first met you.”

“I still remember that day. I was only thinking the other week about Mrs. Stewart. Wonder what happened to her?”

They reminisced about their early schooldays until the teenagers started arriving for the meeting. Many of them had done their research about the past, and they exchanged information with noisy enthusiasm. Several times Abbey’s eyes met Jack’s in an amused exchange.

When Jack encouraged them to pull their ideas together into three different strands they could use in the play, she was impressed yet again at how he dealt with the kids, steering them in the right direction but without dictating to them.

The only awkward moment, for her at least, came when Charlotte Morris produced a paperback copy of
The Copper Miner’s Daughter
, the first book of
The Rycroft Saga
. Everything inside her tensed as the devastation at not getting the part hit her again.

“Jack, this book’s about a girl who went against all the attitudes of the day and fought for what she believed in. Did girls in Victorian times do that?”

“That’s fiction, Charlotte,” Abbey said. “We should be thinking about real people.”

She shot a quick glance at Jack, wondering if he remembered how much she’d wanted the part of Maggie Rycroft.

He didn’t look at her as he replied to Charlotte. “Every generation has its rebels, the people who don’t conform to what society expects of them. What you need to consider is whether rebelling is easier for young people today than it was in the nineteenth century.”

Abbey relaxed again. “I think you now have your three themes. Local occupations a hundred years ago compared with today, the social opportunities for young people, and the rebels.”

She divided them into their usual three groups, held a quick discussion to decide which group would concentrate on which topic, and suggested they pool their ideas.

The room buzzed with teenage chatter, and she smiled at Jack. “We’re on our way now. By next week, they’ll have the basic scenarios sorted out, and we can develop those into workable playlets.”

Later, after the teenagers had gone, they went into the house where he made coffee for them both.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” he asked when they relaxed in the lounge.

* * * * *

During the next few weeks, Abbey had more fun than she’d had in a long time. Jack hired a sailing dinghy several times and, once they’d brushed up on their sailing skills, they sailed the five mile length of Coniston Water on a beautiful spring day with the right amount of wind to send the dinghy whipping easily through the water.

Other days they spent hiking. After their first ambitious attempt to reach the top of Helvellyn, one of Lakeland’s highest peaks, Jack gave her a wry grin.

“I’m not as fit as I used to be. Maybe we should try a few easier climbs before we tackle another hard one.”

She was as breathless as him, and her leg muscles screamed in protest after several months when she’d abandoned her usual fitness regime. “Why don’t we make a pact to do some early morning runs in the woods?”

Doubt creased his forehead. “What do you mean by early?”

“About six o’clock?” She laughed at the shock on his face. “It’s okay, I’m joking. Eight o’clock would be fine for a half hour run.”

She enjoyed their morning jogs, which they managed two or three times a week. They talked about anything and everything, and every so often they stopped for quick kisses that sometimes lengthened. Jack never attempted to take things any further, and she wondered whether he thought she might react as she’d done ten years before.