Judgement By Fire (34 page)

“So that’s what
all the whispering in corners was about,” she said sternly to Lucy, but she
found it hard to maintain the anger when she saw the caring look on her
friend’s face. Instead, she was flooded with despair. She had seen the anger
cross Jon’s face when he saw her at the table and realized there was no
matching response in him to the fast tattoo of pleasure her own pulses had
played on first seeing him.

“It won’t work,
Lucy,” she said sadly.

So, taking her
cue from Jon, she tried to play things as casually as he was, paying attention
to her fellow dinner guests and chatting brightly. She knew his relaxed manner was
only skin deep and the coiled tension inside him seemed to glitter in the air
between them. Several times tears welled up in her eyes as she watched the
stiff set of his shoulders and the white rim around his mouth as he courteously
accepted condolences for the death of his cousin from acquaintances who paused
by the table.

She felt his
pain and grief in her own heart, and wished there was something she could do to
spare him the ordeal she knew he must face at every public gathering. But there
was nothing he wanted from her.

She could at
least remove from him any burden of guilt he might be feeling on her behalf by
continuing her masquerade of a happy and relaxed woman.  When the time came,
she walked proudly and gracefully up to the podium to accept the elegant
figured silver award for the most promising wildlife artist from John O’Keefe,
co-owner of the gallery and chairman of the board of directors of the voluntary
body which judged the work and presented the awards.

Her friends
gathered around to exclaim over the award and offer congratulations, and Lauren
basked briefly in the admiration of her fellow artists. However, when a large
hand descended on her shoulder and a well-loved voice spoke in her ear, her
heart took off into a pounding orbit that had little to do with pride in her
achievements.

Dreamlike, she
allowed herself to be drawn onto the dance floor, her every sense responding to
the nearness of Jon’s hard body pressed against her own. Once again she
breathed in the sensual scent of him, shampoo, soap, and clean, warm male, and
her traitorous body molded itself to his in the dance. Unfortunately, her
pleasure was to be short-lived.

“I take it you
didn’t have anything to do with planning this charade?” Jon asked brusquely,
his fingers splayed against her bare back in an intimate gesture while his eyes
were hard and cold on her face.

“Of course not.
Believe me, if I’d known you would be here, I’d have stayed home with a good
book,” she answered waspishly. “And when I get my so-called friends alone,
they’ll get a tongue lashing like you wouldn’t believe.”

His face
softened for a moment and his eyes lit with humor. “I bet you’ll just do that,
too,” he said, smiling.

Lauren wished he
wouldn’t smile because it was making it harder and harder to maintain her
composure. If he looked down at her any longer with that flicker of laughter in
his eyes, she’d either throw herself on him in front of the whole damned room
full of people, or run howling out into the crisp spring night. Either way, it
would be a source of gossip amongst Toronto’s upper echelons for months to
come.

“You’re
beautiful when you smile.” His voice was like warm maple syrup, running sweetly
over her senses. She had to make him stop.

“Jon, I look
awful—like I’ve been run down by a bus. Oh!” her eyes widened as she realized
what she’d said. Quietly, she continued, “I’m sorry, that sounded crass in the
circumstances. How is Pippa Williams?”

Jon’s eyes were
dark, focused inwards, and for a moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer. “Pippa
is doing very well. She’s still in hospital but undergoing physiotherapy and it
looks as though she’ll be left with a slight limp. But, as she says herself,
she’s pretty lucky to still be alive. She’s raring, in fact, to get back to
work.”

“I think
possibly getting back to something as near to normal as possible is what we all
need,” Lauren said, while her heart cried out that her life would never be
normal again.

As if he had
read her thoughts, Jon stood still, holding her to him even though the dance
music had stopped moments before. “That brings me to something I’d like to talk
to you about,” he said, studying her face.

Lauren expelled
a long breath as hope flared in her heart.

“You’re still on
that residents’ committee, and there are some business issues surrounding
Haverford Castle that I need to settle.” Jon’s voice washed over her, cool and
impersonal, and Lauren’s fingers twitched with the desire to pound his chest in
her frustration and hurt.

All she said
was, “I’ll call a meeting of the committee if you tell me when it’s
convenient.”

“No, I don’t
want to meet with the committee. This is mostly to do with the structure
replacing your studio, and I think we have to discuss compensation.”

“I’ve already
told you, I don’t want your money!” Lauren said through clenched teeth.

“Nevertheless,
there is a contract between yourself and Haverford Castle, and the terms of
that contract have been transferred to us as the new owners. You have certain
liabilities under that contract, including the insuring and maintenance of the
property you were inhabiting.”

“God, you sound
like some legal contract yourself,” Lauren flung at him, pulling herself out of
his arms. “If you really have something to say that can’t be done through the
mail, I’m staying with Jane Rollands’ tonight, we could meet tomorrow.”

“No, I don’t
want to meet you here in Toronto. I’ll come out to West River, two days from
now—about 5 p.m. okay?” Jon’s voice was still cool, as if he was simply making
another business appointment, and Lauren’s blood boiled.

“Sure, I’ll try
and set some time aside from my busy schedule,” she said coldly.

Then turning her
back on him, she walked away with her head held high.

*
* *

How hard it was
to let her go! He’d thought it would be easier now that some time had elapsed,
but she still had the same effect on him, that feeling of bathing in moonglow
when she was near him. He was bereft as she moved away from him, leaving him
cold, and barren.

In the blink of
her beautiful eyes, he’d gone from determination never to go near her again to
longing like a teenager in the grip of a crush to see her just one more time.

Certainly, any
one of his staff could have explained the plans for construction work on the
cottage site, answered whatever questions she might have had, gotten her to
sign the agreement, and that would have been that. Yet he’d told her he would
see her, and he knew he had to—one more time.

Jon lay awake
all night after the awards dinner, his every sense alight with Lauren, turning
over his feelings, twisting the situation this way and that, until his head
ached and he knew he had to take some drastic action before he lost everything.

By the time the
sun rose pale pink and turquoise over the barn and fields beyond his window,
Jon had made a decision that he knew would reverberate in his life for a long
time to come. He shared his ideas briefly with Mary, feeling it was important
for her to know, and was both irritated and gratified by the old-fashioned look
she gave him.

“About time,
too,” she declared, then unexpectedly she hugged him before dismissing him
summarily as she went about her work, the pups at her heels.

His next task
was to meet with Warren. His old friend’s understanding and approval helped to
cement his own resolve.  A further call to his administrative assistant, and
Cathy quickly agreed to call meetings of his board of directors and
departmental heads, followed by a press conference the following morning. He
could hear the unspoken questions in her voice, but was grateful that she once
again went about her work in a cool, professional manner and held back from
asking him any questions. He asked her to sit in on the meeting, feeling she,
too, should be among the first to hear of his decisions.

Three hours
later, after a long, involved meeting with the company solicitors, Jon
straightened his tie, picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and, taking a
deep breath, marched into the executive boardroom to face one of the most
difficult meetings he was ever to undertake.

“You’re sure you
and Paul need to go out tonight?” Lauren asked plaintively as Lucy pulled a
velvet jacket on over a short black evening dress.

“You think I
want to stay here and witness the fireworks between you and Mr. Company
Executive Rush? No way. Just remember, bloodstains are hard to get out and I’m
very fond of the Berber rug in the living room,” Lucy replied with a grin.
“Besides, have you any idea, between my book tour and happy hours in the
hospital, how long it’s been since Paul and I went out for a romantic dinner?
We might even make it a romantic all-nighter. He’s taking me to Sidewinders and
you know they have rooms there.”

“Yeah, well,
make sure he brings his flannelette pajamas,” Lauren muttered savagely.

            “Who needs his
flannelette pajamas?” Paul asked, coming into the hallway, and Lucy dissolved
in peals of laughter.

            “Good Lord, look at
her, helpless at my every word. Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight.” With a
theatrical leer towards his wife, Paul treated Lauren to one of his bear-like
hugs. “Good luck, kiddo,” he said softly. Then, taking his wife’s hand tenderly
in his, he opened the big oak front door of the cottage, and they were gone.

Left alone,
Lauren roamed restlessly from living room to kitchen, to sun porch and back
again. It sounded like Jon thought she had some indebtedness under her contract
with Haverford Castle. Maybe he wanted her to foot the bill for replacing the
cottage his cousin had burned down!

Lauren pounded
the kitchen counter with her fist. In her heart, she didn’t believe that Jon
intended making such outrageous claims on her, but she shivered nonetheless as
she wondered just what business issues he felt had to be discussed between
them.

Tears rose to
her eyes as she remembered how insistent he’d been that he couldn’t meet her in
Toronto. Was it that he didn’t want to be seen with her there, where so many
people knew him? Was he so determined that she be kept out of his ‘real’ life
that he was prepared to make the trek all the way down to West River late in
the day rather than have her name linked with his in the city?

Hearing the soft
purr of a well-tuned engine coming along the laneway, Lauren wiped her tears
away with a handy tea towel. Her reflection in the kitchen mirror was wan, so
she ran a lipstick over her pale mouth and brushed her hair. This ‘business’
meeting would probably leave her a total wreck, but she had no intention of
letting Jon see her that way.

*
* *

            Rush’s stomach tensed
as he turned his 1950’s truck into the Haverford Castle driveway. His eyes were
drawn first to the construction fence that surrounded the gaping hole where
once Lauren’s cottage had stood, and a brief image of himself half-carrying her
limp body out of the blazing pyre made him catch his breath.

Then he
glanced towards the woods, and heard again in his head Stephen’s harsh voice,
Lauren’s panicked scream, the gunshot which had shattered his world.

He
turned off the engine and sat in the silence for a few moments, hearing the
voices of ghosts in the wind. Then he shrugged himself out of the seat belt and
climbed down from the cab.

Tonight
he intended to leave those ghosts behind him.

* * *

            She opened the door
so quickly after he pressed the buzzer that he knew she must have heard the
truck and been waiting for him.

            “You’re late,” was
her terse greeting.

            “That’s a lovely
welcome.” This was not going to be an easy meeting, not that he had expected it
to be anything else. It probably wouldn’t compare with the difficult meetings
he’d held all day, but its outcome might be even more devastating.

            “Yeah, well, you
didn’t exactly expect fireworks and champagne did you?” Lauren asked, grinning
despite herself. Lord, but being around this man always made her feel so
good!

            “
No, I don’t
suppose I did. A cup of coffee, maybe?”

            “Will that be cream,
sugar and rat poison?” she asked sweetly, taking his coat and leading the way
down the narrow corridor into the living room.

            “Just cream and
sugar, hold the rat poison,” he answered, matching her bantering tone.

            “Shame,” she replied,
moving through into the small galley kitchen.

            “This place is a lot
different from your studio,” Jon commented, taking in the cozy sitting room and
kitchen. “Lucy and Paul keep their working areas separate, do they?”

            “Yes,” Lauren said,
coming back to where he leaned casually against the doorframe of the living
room and handing him a steaming mug of fragrant brew. “Lucy likes to be able to
close her door on her work, and with two of them living here it makes things a
lot more comfortable to have a family home with her office space kept
separately.”