His Lordships Daughter (29 page)

Phyllipa got to her feet and went to the door. “Come on June, you know as well as I, there are some things Managing Directors just don’t discuss with the rank and file!” laughing she slipped into the outside corridor as the flying steel ruler, thrown by her friend, banged against the door frame, then rattled to the floor. Returning to her own office, she collected her handbag and car keys, then walking through to the print floor, loitered for a few moments, listening to the roar of the machines. Shaking her head in wonderment, she approached the door leading to the company car park. “That’s my kind of music.” She shouted, proudly, taking a last look at the busy scene. They were all on station!

Phyllipa walked through the house to Steven’s bedroom. She was feeling happy, excited and a little apprehensive, for this could be the visit which could irrevocably alter her life, her life style and hopefully her destiny. She shuddered as negative thoughts shuttered through her busy mind. Perhaps Steven had changed his mind about loving her? Perhaps he had decided that sh
e wasn’t quite the one? Perhap
“Oh shut up Phyllipa!” she snarled
rudely
, opening the door to the sick room.

“You got here then?” he was sitting up in bed, looking at her with a peculiar look on his handsome face.

“
she smiled, and
nodded at the nurse quietly leaving the room.

bending
over his bed and kissed him. “Good evening! I hope you are comfortable.”

Steven stretched his muscular body causing the hardware supporting his leg to rattle ominously. “I’m alright, but I’m fed up with lying here.”

Phyllipa steadied the gantry. “The doctor tells me all this stuff can come down at the end of the week.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

She nodded. “Really.”

“That’s good news, anyway. Is this what this visit is all about? Or have you merely called in to listen to the explanation which you demanded?” he looked at her hopefully. “You did say you would call our first row, quits.”

“I have forgiven you Steven, so there is nothing to explain.”

His eyes opened wider as he pushed himself more upright.

“Do you mean we’re friends again?”

“that
s
what you want isn’t it?”

“More than anything in the world, but not at the expense of your magnanimous integrity. I mean I wouldn’t like you to think you are just forgetting what happened between us out of some charity guilt trip.

Her eyes turned angry. “What do you mean charity guilt trip?”

Steven threw back his head and laughed. “I knew that would get you going. But, it was worth it, just to see you annoyed.”

“Oh!” for a few seconds she just stood there, slightly bemused, not quite sure who had won the point.

“Well it has nothing to do with guilt trips, compassion or even charity. I just thought it was time we called time on one another.” She fingered the corner of her mouth. “After all there may have been a little truth in what you said.”

“What sort of truth?”

“Don’t push it Steven! That’s as far as I go right?”

Shoving his head back hard against his pillows, he nodded. “Right!
Welcome back!”

Leaning over the bed, her lips brushed against his mouth. Pulling a chair up to the side of the bed, she sat down. “We do have things to discuss.”

“What sort of things?”

“I think you and I should get married!”

He swallowed, hard, his face coloured as he wriggled his body, not quite sure whether she was on one of her fun runs, retaliating for his “Charity guilt trip” crack. The chromium harness swung, wildly. “What?
You mean to one-another?”

she
snorted
in mock anger. “Who else
?”

He shook his head, still not quite sure what was going on. “For nearly a year I have been asking you to marry me.” His voice was soft as he gazed at her face. “And for nearly a year you have been turning me down. So what’s changed?”

“I am doing the asking. That is what has changed.”

Steven shrugged his shoulders. “Suddenly I break my leg and here you are wishing to be my wife. You’re up to something aren’t you?”

She laughed. “That’s one of the nicest things about you. You can be obtuse. I am not up to anything, but if you don’t fancy being my husband I can always go and…”

“You are not going anywhere!” he grabbed her waist, pulling her on to the bed. “Now tell me what this is all about?”

Phyllipa pulled her legs on to the bed and snuggled at his s
ide ,
He
r
fingers crept up his pyjamas, over his chest then swooped between his thighs, but he moved away in alarm.

“Please…”

She laughed again, withdrawing her hand. “Killjoy!” swinging herself from the bed, she kissed his cheek then sat in the chair again.

“Last night I decided to spend the rest of my life with you!”

“Just like that?”

She shook her head. “No, not just like that! I had to think about it, it is important. I have to be
quite positive about this
.”

“And you have chosen me?”

“If you agree?”

Holding her o
nce again, he embraced her, and gently k
issed her face. “It will be an honour to marry you.” His voice broke with emotion. “I will always love you.”

Phyllipa smiled “If you are going to accompany me through life, there are things you should know about me. I don’t want you on the outside looking in, centre page is where I am and that is where you will be. Up to now, most of my life has been spent away from home, so apart from my holidays I didn’t see much of this place.” Her voice dropped to almost a whisper. “When I was young
, someone in a distant world decided they needed my mother than I leaving only my f
ather to come back to
, just the two of us. A brace of Inchcape-Gores!” taking a white lace handkerchief out of bag she touched her mouth with the edge of it, pulled Steven’s face toward her and kissed it. The gesture was almost mechanical, as if checking he was still there. Her voice strengthened. “I’m worth a great deal of money on the hoof. My ancestors were extremely generous to me, the older I become the richer I become. The family title falls through the male blood line, but the old wealth tumbles down the family money line to the first born.” She executed a half bow from the waist up as if introducing herself. “And here I am!”

The look on her face turned wistful again. “Both my father and I knew that my being sheltered all those years could possibly attract the wrong sort of men friends. And, that is why I have always played fast and a little bit loose, avoiding anything serious. So you must forgive me if I gave you a hard time, but I had to be absolutely sure.” She gazed at some spot in the ceiling. “I didn’t foresee your overdraft problems and in my wildest dreams, didn’t envisage your broken leg.” Her eyes hardened, ready for any opposition, but Steven, his eyes shining with affection, lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You were always in control weren’t you?”

“I thought I was but Lord Braseby spoiled things a little, but that’s history now isn’t it.” They both looked up in surprise as Phyllipa’s father edged cautiously into the room. “I’m just checking on the patient.” He looked at his daughter. “Is he comfortable?”

Phyllipa nodded. “Ask him.”

Steven caught the conversation. “I’m absolutely marvellous, couldn’t be better.”

“We have something to
tell you father!” with
a slight blush on her face. “Steven and I have settled our differences and he has agreed to become my husband!”

A large smile, almost of relief crossed her father’s face. “That’s marvellous news.” He hugged his daughter to him whilst pumping Steven’s hand enthusiastically. “You have both made
me a very happy man…” he paused
, an expression of surprise on his face. “I didn’t know this was a leap year?”

Phyllipa sighed,
“You stick to your conventions father, and I’ll stick to mine right!”

“Yes of course!” he chuckled. “Now perhaps we can keep the nursery door locked and bolted at night.” Phyllipa giggled.

“There was another reason for me visiting you.” Her father went on. Putting his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket, he brought out a black velvet covered jewellery case. “I never did like the way in which I won the bet. It was all a bit shady.” Opening the box, he removed the necklace, allowing it to cascade through his hands, then carefully placed it around his daughter’s neck. Watching in awe
, Steven gasped at the scintillating layers of precious gem stones. Blue and yellow cabochon sapphires, glittering ice cold blue and white diamonds, backed by black
lustred
ocean deep pearls were festooned like bunches of grapes on a golden vine. It was swanking nature at her very best.

“Your grandmother always called this her necklace of love.” Her father explained. “So, it is fitting it should now belong to you.”

Phyllipa looked at her reflection in a wall mirror, then turned back again to her only parent. “Both you and I won the bet.” She said fondly. “There were no losers!”

“When is the big day?”
Asked
father.

“We shall marry when his leg is better. I’m not having anyone with a broken leg in my bed.”

He grinned
. “This calls for a huge party! We’ll fill the house with guests.” But Phyllipa shook her head. “No! You can announce our engagement to the papers but no party. Sorry father, I don’t want this room filled with champagne bottles and well wishers.” She glared at Steven. “It is a sick room!”

“Just as you wish!”

“Spoilsport!” Steven shouted, pulling a long face.

“It could be boi
led fish time again.” She
threatened.

Her fiancée
grimaced, shaking his head. “O
k
no party!”

Phyllipa, unlocking the diamante clasp, removed the necklace and handed it back to her father. “I know the rules about this. It must go back to the bank…but, it was wonderful of you to give it to me.”

Taking it back, her father, smiling with satisfaction, turned toward the door. “Now I shall
leave you. Yesterday there was
two of us now there are three.”

Phyllipa
watched him leave the room, she
turned to Steven. “You and I have made my father very happy.”

“I’m glad. He’s a wonderful guy!”

“Yes that is why I always wish to be near him. I don’t want him growing old alone.” Suddenly the tone in her voice changed. “Now back to business.
Let me ask you something
…”

“Whoa! Hold it. Before we go any further I just have one serious question for you that must be answered.”

“Fire away.”

“What is going to happen to the new Yorker?”

“What do you mean?”

“I will
never be able to use it
. I will never be able to bring myself to inflict pain upon you whether it is your pleasure or not.”

S
he
looked at him, a strained look in her eye. Although she had forgiven him for calling her what he called her, the nettle beating she had received wasn’t that easy to forget. It wasn’t the pain or the rash that dwelt in her memory, it was that, when it suited him, through anger, fury or whatever, he could bash away with the best of them.

“I know what you are thinking.”

“Go on then.”

“If I had really wished to hurt you on that day, I would have brought a walking stick with me or a cane or something. As I told you at the time, I bought the nettles in for drying out in the boiler room! I’ve done it hundreds of times!”

“What has that got to do with it?”

“In my temper, I grabbed the first thing that came to mind.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know they would hurt you. If they had been
thorn less
roses I would have still used them…”

“Roses, eh?” Phyllipa mused, interrupting him. “Soft French classical roses?... yes they would have been different.” Her eyes gleamed. “But please leave the thorns on.” She bought herself back to reality. “Oh well. You didn’t mean to hurt me then?”

“Of course not!”

“That’ll do for me
.” She smiled. “As I have often told you, I can feel explanations.” Opening her handbag, she bought some papers out. “Now where was
I
?”

“Just a minute.” He quietly said. “Can we get back to my original question?”

“What was it?”

“The new Yorker!”

“Oh that old thing
. Don’t worry about it. I gave it to June and Clive for their wedding present! Now where was I?”

Steven gazed at her, almost mesmerised. “I don’t know, but wherever it was, it is bound to be intriguing.”

“Right! Pay attention. Why do you go out to work?”