His Lordships Daughter (9 page)

“Very much so, I want to know everything you will allow me to know.”

“What had you in mind about thanking me properly.” Her voice was abrupt.

“
Dinner
, tonight?”

“It sounds very attractive but not tonight.”

For a moment he looked slightly hurt, but then cheered up. “How about tomorrow night?”

“That would be ideal. But, there are two conditions.”

“Anything.” He offered.

“Dress will be formal and it will be my treat.”

His face showed disappointment. “I am thanking you for landing the contract. It’s down to me.”

Phyllipa shook her head and drank the rest of the champagne. “What I did was for the company. And to that end I will bring work in when I deem it necessary. Even if does mean my stepping out of line.” She looked defiantly at him. “I consider it my duty.”

“Yes, well we are not going that road again.”

“So what do you think? Dress
will be formal and it
will be my treat!”

Steven sighed. “O.K you win.”

“We’ll be sitting down at eight o’clock.”

“We?”

“You and I, At the Davenport Hotel, Just ask for me.”

“And it has to be formal does it?”

Phyllipa nodded. “Absolutely! I’m not having you sit at my table in working jeans and a scruffy old pullover.”

“I don’t possess a scruffy old pullover.”

“It’s just as well because I don’t want you to wear one. Phyllipa looked at him, waiting for a riposte, but, having been caught out before by his Trouble Shooter’s unusual debating skills, he preferred to stay silent.

“That’s settled then. Eight o’clock it is, and don’t forget to bring a large appetite with you.”

Steven laughed “That’s easy. I love to eat.”

Phyllipa giggled at him as she sipped her champagne. “I wasn’t referring to your food appetite.” She
murmured
to herself.

Happy at what she saw, Phyllipa studied herself in the long dress mirror. She had chosen a deep cobalt blue silk evening gown. It was tight, almost stretched, but it showed all she wished to show off to perfection. Adjusting the diamond studs to her ears, she clipped a matching bracelet around her wrist, took one last look in the mirror then nodded her head in satisfaction. Everything looked right!

From the bedroom she turned into the dining room and smiled at the waiters preparing the table for dinner, she was in her own apartment at the Davenport Hotel. Walking behind the well-stocked bar she splashed soda water on glistening chunks of ice in a tall glass, then sipping it, spoke to the staff and checked the wine.

Her watch told her that it was ten minutes to eight! Looking around the solid silver cutlery and the spotless white napery, she nodded her head again, agreeably. She wanted everything to be exactly right but, apart from a built in respect plus an almost pathological insistence in support of etiquette, she didn’t really know why she wanted everything to be so perfect, except to show her boss how she did things. It was her treat!

Lowering the lights, she moved through to the kitchen checking that everything was in order. All the staff had gone now except one waiter and she smiled at him as she returned to the dining room to find her guest, Steven, leaning against the bar. He was gazing around as if not quite sure where he was. Clad in evening dress, his handsome face was full of curiosity.

“I thought it was just going to be a meal in a hotel restaurant.” He bent his head to kiss her cheek. “I didn’t
expect all this.” His grey eyes moved up and down Phyllipa’s body, almost insole
ntly, as if inspecting her,
nodded his head. “You look absolutely lovely!”

“You look pretty good yourself.” She retorted, removing the chilled champagne from its bucket. Filling two glasses she handed one to her guest. “Before you say anything….” She explained, indicating the champagne. “This is from my father’s cellar, he pays for it! Who shall we drink to?”

“To the person who designed your dress.” He said, as their wine glasses met.

“Are you hungry?”

, H
e pulle
d a chair out for her. “starving
!”

Phyllipa smiled and made herself comfortable whilst the hovering waiter place a dish of oysters on the table. Removing one from the dish, she picked up a knife and with a flick of her wrist opened the hinged shell and freed the contents. “The trick is not to spill the natural juices.” She carefully explained, sprinkling black pepper and squeezing lemon juice into the shell.

“Shouldn’t there be an “R” in the month?” Steven asked, innocently.

She shook her head “These are Pacific oysters, harvested right throughout the year. I hope you like them?” leaning over the table, she teased Steven’s mouth open with her fingers, then let the oyster slide from its shell down his throat. “Swallow!” she ordered, closing his mouth, and Steven swallowed. Her eyes riveted into his. “Well?”

Steven closed his eyes, and
opened them again. “Wonderful!” he cried drinking his champagne. “Slightly salty but very fresh.” Taking a
knife he picked one up, flicked in the blade and watched the lid drop onto the plate. “I can suck them blindfolded, they are one of my favourite foods!”

Phyllipa laughed as she touched her mouth with her napkin. “At least we have something in common.”

Her boss nodded and looked around at the sumptuous room. “I suppose all this belongs to you?”

“It belongs to my family, since I have been working for you, I’ve been staying here.” Shucking another oyster, she topped the shell up with champagne and popped it into Steven’s mouth. “Would you mind if I talked about business?”

Steven sighed. “
If
I said I did would it stop you?”

Phyllipa shook her head. “No!”

“In that case I don’t mind.”

“Were you thinking of paying me commission on the Kristex contract?”

Steven’s reply was emphatic “No! I wasn’t.”

“If a company rep had bought it in, commission would have been paid wouldn’t it?” she argued, a twinkle in her eye.

“Yes it would, but, as it came through you it becomes a House Account!”

Phyllipa thought for a while. “So, what happens to the commission?”

“As there isn’t any, the answer is irrelevant.”

“I think that is a little unfair. It certainly doesn’t encourage me to bring in another fat account in, does it?”

Steven looked up in alarm. “You haven’t got another one, have you?”

She shook her head. “No, not at the moment! But I have one in mind. You’ll love it, it’s a blockbuster!”

His hands came up in protest. “Please no more! In case you hadn’t noticed all our plant is now working flat out. We have no spare capacity.”

“Buy some more machinery, Steven expand!”

He laughed. “Have you any idea what those machines cost? The price would take your breath away.”

Phyllipa smiled and drank her champagne. “Well it was just an idea. But, if you are looking for money, I could lend you some.”

“Thanks but no thanks! The company can’
t afford to borrow any
more.”

“We could come to some arrangement
which would suit us both.” She argued.

“
I do not wish to borrow any money. Either from you or from the bank or anyone else. Right?”

“If you say so.” She nodded in agreement, “But, now perhaps we can get back to the subject of commission?”

“Two and a half per cent?” he snapped

“I did have this figure of three and a half floating around in my mind, but I don’t know where it came from.” She
murmured
.

“Three and a quarter? And that’s my last offer.”

“Done!” she sighed with satisfaction. “I’m glad that is out of the way I hate talking about money.!”

The waiter uncorked another bottle of champagne, placed it in the silver chiller, then removed the oyster shells from the table.

“Don’t you think it’s time you told me who you really are, Phyllipa?”

“You only have to ask the waiter.”

“I know that. I could have asked at reception, but I still would like you to tell me.”

Phyllipa gazed at the ceiling as if in deep thought. “I’ve been with the company a few months now.” She suddenly said, “And I think it is time you knew who you are dealing with.” The waiter silently put warm plates in front of them, distracting her attention. “I hope you like venison?” she pressed a hidden switch, “And I know you like Mahler.” The symphony eased gently through the air causing Steven to smile, knowingly.

“You’ve been checking up on me haven’t you?”

Phyllipa nodded “Of course! I like to know the likes and dislikes of any guest of mine.” She nodded towards the waiter filling the plates with food. “This is a ragout cooked in red wine, it’s almost fat free and one of my favourite dishes.”

“It looks delicious. They say deer meat feeds the brain. It makes clever people more clever. I believe it is something to do with the fauna they eat.”

Phyllipa gave him a challenging look. “Special fauna?”

“Very special,” he confirmed, drinking his champagne and watching her face. “I suppose it is all in the mind really. Rather like flowers which make one thirsty.”

“Touché!” Phyllipa shouted.

Taking her hand in his, he kissed it with a deliberate old fashioned charm, causing Phyllipa to giggle as they enjoyed their meal.
The food was superb and the pears in the brandy were very cold.

Steven was dicing some cheese when he suddenly said “ You know that I am in love with you, don’t you?”

Phyllipa shook he head. “No! I didn’t know.” She fibbed.

“I’ve loved you since the first day you walked into my factory.” He confessed, taking her hand and kissing it. Phyllipa beckoned to the waiter. “Alright, Robert. Thank you!” The waiter no
dded his head. “As you wish, Ms
Phyllipa. Goodnight!” Leaving the room he quietly closed the door behind him.

“Ms
Phyllipa?” Steven grumbled. “Everyone seems to know you but me.”

“The Honourable Phyllipa Antonia Inchcape hyphen Gore” she announced, introducing her full title to him.

For a moment Steven’s face was covered in astonishment and then he smiled. “Daughter od Lord Hemingham. Am I right?”

“He is my father!”

“And I am in love with his daughter.” As he leaned over the table, the handsome face was clouded with doubt. “For all I know, Phyllipa you may have someone, you may even be married.. I don’t know. But, I just thought I should tell you how I feel about you.” He shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “I’m well aware that it sticks out a mile.”

“I’m not married. And to be quite fair, at this particular moment I am not looking for a husband.” Rising from the table she went to the bar and poured brandy into two large balloon glasses.

“I didn’t t
hink you would be.” W
ith
a disappointed look on his face.

“Come and sit down.” She invited, indicating the cosy settee
. “I have many friends, but the only serious man in my life is my father.”

Steven frowned “Yes, Lord Hemingham! I don’t suppose he would give us his blessing even if you did love me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

He fidgeted, not quite sure how to explain his misgivings.

“Come on!” Phyllipa urged. “Tell me!”

“Well! You and I …..
We’re
out of completely different drawers.”

She burst out laughing and kissed his cheek. “You belong in the dark ages, in some cave with a club in your hand.”

“I’m just looking at all the angles. I love you and wouldn’t want to be pushed out of the running by some biological technicality.

Phyllipa moved her body closer and snuggled up to him. “When I am ready, Steven it will be up to me whom I choose. It will be my choice and mine alone.” Gently pulling his face towards her, looking deeply into his eyes, she kissed his mouth. “Remember that! It will be my choice! But, as I just said I am not looking for anybody. She sipped her brandy, then suddenly changed the subject. “Did you enjoy the meal?”

“It was superb! And it’s been a wonderful evening.” Looking at his wrist watch, he frowned. “It’s gone midnight and it’s time I was off.” Gently disengaging himself from her nearness, he stood up, ready to leave but quickly sat down again as her hand pulled him back.

“
You
are not going home.” She whispered, a sensuous gleam in her eyes. “There is a spare bedroom here and if you wish you may use it. You’ll find everything you require in there.

Steven’s eyes narrowed slightly and a faint stab of colour heightened his cheeks. “I wouldn’t wish to compromise you.” He muttered.

She laughed. “I do believe you are frightened of me?”

There was a
moment’s
silence. Then he sighed “Perhaps!”