Sommersgate House (14 page)

She couldn’t,
and wouldn’t, let it go. It wasn’t in her nature or her upbringing.
She’d been working since she was sixteen, getting a job at the
local Dairy Queen so she could buy herself clothes and go out with
her friends and not put a strain on her mother’s already seriously
strained finances. She wasn’t about to let him “provide” for
her.

She pushed it.
“Douglas, I understand but –”

“The subject
is closed,” he announced.

She stared at
him, not knowing whether to laugh out loud or scream, wishing she
could do both at the same time.

“I can’t –”
she began again.

“How, may I
ask, do I get you to do what you’re told?” he queried calmly but he
didn’t look calm. His eyes were glittering and she was so used to
Douglas’s complete indifference she couldn’t tell if he was
enjoying himself or if he was immensely annoyed.

“I never do
what I’m told,” Julia informed him, having decided that, for her
part, she did not find this amusing at all.

“
That
does not
bode well for the next thirteen years,” he declared, his tone
showing he had chosen the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I
can’t just live here and contribute nothing.”

“You’ll be
taking care of the children.”

“One day, I’ll
be working too. What then?” she asked.

“
We’ll
cope, people do these things every day,” he replied with a shrug of
his shoulders.

“Yes, but I’ll
need more commitment from you with the children. Especially now,
especially Lizzie. I think she’s looking to you –”

He stiffened,
all amusement gone, and he interrupted her again, his words curt.
“I have no idea how to heal her grief and further I have no
intention of filling Gavin’s shoes.”

“But –” Julia
began, stunned at his reaction and his words.

“Have we
covered everything on your lists?” he asked politely and pointedly,
this discussion, according to Douglas, was obviously closed.

“Yes. But,
Douglas –” Julia tried again.

Douglas
interrupted again. “Good, I have a phone call to finish.”

And to her
amazement, he walked to his desk.

She was
dismissed.

She stood
there not knowing what to do. She’d never met the like of him. One
minute, he was so good-looking, so damned sexy that he made her
legs tremble and her stomach pitch, the next minute he was so
impossibly autocratic, she felt like throwing something at him.

He picked up
his phone as he rifled through some papers and she realised that he
didn’t even intend to acknowledge her presence in the room.

She’d
been there less than a week, she’d left her entire life behind, the
life before her was still uncertain and in the midst of all this
she had three children who depended on her and, by the way…
him.

She wasn’t
supposed to do it alone. Tammy and Gav wanted her to have help and
that meant far more than a free meal ticket, the use of a car and
Douglas publically bestowing his “favour” on her at art
galleries.

She didn’t
even wage the battle to control her temper, she just let it lose.
She downed the contents of her whisky, gagged momentarily as the
fire hit her throat and stormed his desk.

“
Excuse
me!” she slammed her glass down on its shiny surface making his
head come up with a jerk. “I’m sure you’re used to strolling into a
board room or wherever you work and making everyone do your bidding
but I’m afraid that does
not
work with me. May I remind you that
your
sister and
my
brother expect us, no, they trusted us,
no
, they
honoured
us by allowing us to raise those children together and I’m
not going to let you throw money at it and then get on with your
life like nothing’s changed. You’ll pull your weight, you’ll get
involved and you’ll damn well quit telling me what to do all the
time, because I’m up to here…” she indicated her chin with an angry
thrust of her hand, “with it.”

He had the
receiver in his hand but, after she finished, he slowly returned it
to its cradle.

“Are you
finished?” he asked, his tone completely civil.

She took a
deep breath.

Was she
finished? She didn’t know. Maybe she went too far.

“No, Julia,”
he said quietly, “that was too magnificent to question. Simply
score your point and go.”

She faltered.
“Did I?” He raised his brow in question. “Score a point,” she
explained.

He inclined
his head briefly.

She was
stunned. She was pleased.

For some
reason, she was also scared.

One
point meant only one point which meant there was a game afoot here.
And she did not want to play games with Douglas Ashton. Douglas
Ashton always,
always
won.

Nevertheless,
she thought it prudent to take his advice.

“Well then,
thank you for the chat. I feel much better,” she lied.
“Goodnight.”

She turned to
go but his voice calling her name stopped her.

She turned
back.

“Yes?” she
asked.

He was looking
at her in that pleasant way again, something akin to admiration in
his eyes, a look that stole her breath away.

His voice was
smooth as silk when he spoke. “Last time you said goodnight to me
in this room, it came with a kiss.”

The pleasant
tremor slid so far up her spine, it went up her neck and made her
scalp tingle just as her stomach flipped.

With a supreme
effort of will, Julia ignored it.

“I wasn’t
annoyed with you last time,” she informed him haughtily.

There was
definitely a game afoot and even after this discussion of their
“arrangement”, she wasn’t sure of the ground rules.

“I’ll bear
that in mind the next time we have a late evening conversation,” he
replied, then he picked up the phone and she felt her best bet at
that point was to flee the room.

Which was
exactly what she did.

Douglas’s
Decision

The next
morning, Douglas rose early and, instead of his usual run, he went
to the stables to take one of his horses out to be exercised. They
were getting fat and lazy with inattention. Tamsin and Gavin used
to come to Sommersgate once a week to take them out but now that
they were gone, he was the only one who could do it.

He saddled his
chestnut stallion and for over an hour rode him through the wood
surrounding Sommersgate. When he was done, instead of leaving it to
Carter, Douglas brushed the horse down himself. When he was
finished, he went back to the house where he showered, dressed and
picked up the phone to call Samantha.

She answered,
her voice sounding as if she’d been awake for hours and in that
time had arranged peace in the Middle East while baking a
complicated soufflé.

He instructed
her to clear his schedule as best she could so he could be at
Sommersgate in the evenings and to make an appointment at his bank
for himself and Julia.

“
I see,”
she responded meaningfully. “Does this decision have anything to do
with a fab… you…
las
green satin
dress?”

Sam had been
with him for several years and had lasted longer than all of his
PAs. She was able to do this because she was incredibly bright, had
the energy of a litter of four week old puppies, was completely
circumspect and didn’t fear him. Therefore, he often cut her a fair
amount of slack which he would never do for others.

“Just do it,”
he told her.

“Righty-ho,
boss,” she confirmed jovially and rang off.

He headed to
the dining room and could hear the children’s chatter and Julia’s
husky-soft voice floating up the stairs.

Yes, in answer
to Samantha’s question, it was the green dress. The green dress
Julia wore on Saturday evening was superb. That green dress could
even be described as sublime.

It was also
the green eyes, the way they looked when Julia laughed with
Charlotte or when they flashed at him last night when she was
angry.

It was also
something else, something surprising.

He’d been
partial to acquiring empty-headed women because they were easy to
acquire and just as easy to throw away.

There was
something different about being with Julia.

Julia Fairfax
was anything but empty-headed.

He watched as
she chatted away with Charlotte and Oliver at dinner, drawing both
of them out skilfully and allowing Charlotte to animate the dinner
with her usual flair without competition. Then, as Charlotte
introduced her around at the gallery, he noted how Julia listened
intently to what people said and the judgmental faces changed as
she melted their reserve with her natural charm, charm she was able
to command even though she admitted to jetlag.

He found he
felt what could only be pride when she returned to his side to
smile up in his eyes and cock her ear to hear some banal thing he
forced himself to say simply to keep her attention.

She rarely
seemed ill at ease with anyone (although often appeared that way
around him). She picked up remote friendships, as she apparently
had with Mrs. Kilpatrick, and acquaintances, as with Charlotte, as
if thousands of miles and months had not divided them.

Last night,
however, there was a different Julia. Impassioned and eloquent, he
found himself admiring her not only when she calmly read from her
lists, smoothly stating her case, but most especially when she lost
her temper with him.

“No man has a
prayer in the world with Jewel.” Douglas heard Gavin say once, loud
enough so Julia could hear him. “She’s bossy, stubborn, too damn
fiery and she’s got attitude. She’s more of a headache than she’s
worth.”

Gavin may have
said those words to tease but the look on his face said he felt
they were valuable qualities.

Douglas was
beginning to agree with him. He had known many women who attempted
to be a challenge in order to make themselves seem more attractive,
less easy, more interesting.

He had never
met a woman who was an actual challenge.

Thinking of
this, Douglas recalled several times in the past when Julia had
caught his attention with her passionate nature and natural
eloquence.

He remembered
once when Julia and Gavin were having a discussion on politics
which escalated into an argument. Tamsin had wisely kept neutral
and Douglas had just watched as Julia’s magnificent moral fury
built up in the face of Gavin’s teasing goading. Remarkably
articulate, Julia finished her tirade with a crushing set down that
shredded even the mellow Gavin and forced him to accede the
point.

The problem
with Julia, Douglas thought with satisfaction, had turned vaguely
interesting.

Before he
arrived at the dining room, Carter stopped him.

“You have a…
call, sir,” Carter said and this practiced speech was not lost on
Douglas.

Instead of
going into the dining room, Douglas went to his study. He should
have closed the door but he could see Julia and the children
sitting across the hall and they’d not hear him from this far away.
He found he had the unusual desire to have their pleasant chatter
in the background.

He saw which
line was blinking, blew out a sigh and picked up the phone.

Nick was on
the other end. Douglas listened and his mouth thinned into an angry
line at what he heard.

“I’ll be there
by the evening,” Douglas said before he hung up. He quickly rang
Samantha and explained the change of plans.

“You know,
you’ve got to stop doing this. Those kids –” she started to say,
her words and tone highly inappropriate. Douglas might be lenient
with Sam but now she was treading on dangerous ground.

He cut her
off. “If I wish your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

“Okay then,
I’ll make it so.” Efficiency restored in her tone, she rang off
again but this time he could tell she did it with disapproval.

He put Sam out
of his mind and walked into the dining room amidst the children’s
welcoming voices. Julia looked up and quickly looked away. He could
tell she was tired and she looked drawn and, he regarded her
closely, a little angry.

He nearly
smiled to himself.

She hadn’t
wasted any time; there was a sugar bowl, a butter dish and three
pots of jam on the table.

“Look, Unka
Douglas! Marmalade!” Ruby shouted, apparently in a phase where
everything had to be said at the top of her lungs. She was waving a
piece of toast so exuberantly that marmalade went flying, landing
with a splat on the floor behind her.

“
Yes,
Ruby,” he said while he sat down, “perhaps you should
eat
it rather than making the
dining room
wear
it.”

Ruby giggled
and Douglas saw Julia’s lips twitch but she wouldn’t allow herself
to break out in a full smile.

Douglas spared
Lizzie a glance and his amusement faded.

The girl
bothered him. She was obviously taking the death of her parents
very hard. Julia thought Douglas should take her in hand but he was
at a loss of what to do.

He found the
girl difficult to be around. She looked almost exactly as her
mother did at twelve years old, big, dark blue eyes and a mass of
shining brown hair. He was counting on her eventually pulling
herself together and in a short time Julia had managed to at least
achieve some small success. Lizzie’s hygiene had been slipping and
she was losing weight. Now, her hair had some of its lustre back
and she sat eating a stack of toast slathered with butter and
jam.