Lee Wilkinson – The Bejewelled Bride (страница 5)

A shade breathlessly, she added, ‘Often that kind of bracelet was accompanied by a matching necklace and earrings, which would have made it a lot more valuable. I would have loved a set, but unfortunately it was sold as a single item.’

‘May I ask what kind of price a thing like this would fetch?’

She told him what she’d paid for it.

A muscle jumped in his jaw as if he’d clenched his teeth, but his voice was even as he remarked, ‘I would have thought—as it’s gold and rubies—that it was worth a great deal more than that.’

She shook her head. ‘Had it been gold and rubies it would have been, but the stones are garnets.’

‘They look like rubies. I always understood that garnets were transparent?’ he pursued.

‘They are. It’s the way these stones are set that makes them look like rubies. Even the seller thought they were.’

‘I see.’ His expression relaxed.

There was a short silence before he changed the subject by saying, ‘I suppose you must meet some interesting people in your line of business?’

Noting how his thick, healthy-looking hair had now dried to its natural ripe-corn colour and longing to touch it, she answered distractedly, ‘Yes, you could say that.’

When he waited expectantly, she added, ‘The old lady I went to see this morning looked as if she’d stepped out of the pages of some period novel.

‘She was dressed all in black, with jet earrings, and was still talking to her husband, who’d been dead for over five years.’

Joel smiled, then, his voice casual, queried, ‘She had some antiques she wanted to sell?’

‘An attic full,’ Bethany said drily.

‘Did you find anything worth having?’

She shook her head. She had been hoping to discover something rare and valuable, both for the old lady’s sake and—needing to appease Tony’s anger—her own. But the ‘antiques’ had turned out to be, at the best, collectibles, at the worst, junk.

‘No valuable silver or porcelain?’

Wondering why he was displaying such interest, she answered, ‘The only thing we might have considered buying was a Hochst group of porcelain figures. But unfortunately it had been damaged and mended so badly that it’s virtually worthless.’

Leaving his chair to pile more logs on the fire, he remarked, ‘So it was a fruitless journey.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

In reality it had been anything but. She was with Joel at last and they had the whole of the night in which to get to know one another.

Watching his broad back, noticing how the fine material of his dark sweater stretched across the mature width of his shoulders, she felt a fluttery excitement in her stomach.

The fire blazing to his satisfaction, he gathered up the crockery and put it on the draining board before washing his hands.

While they talked, almost imperceptibly the light from the lamp had got dimmer, and beyond the glow from the fire shadows were gathering.

Picking up the lamp, Joel moved it from side to side gently. ‘I’m afraid we’re almost out of oil.’

After a quick search through the cupboards he said, ‘There doesn’t appear to be any more, so it’s a good thing it’s almost bedtime.’

He filled the kettle and put it on the stove, remarking, ‘It might not be a bad idea to get the bed made up while we can still see what we’re doing.’

Recognizing the truth of that, she went to the cupboard and took out bed linen, pillows and a duvet.

Instead of presuming it was woman’s work and leaving her to it, as some men would have done, Joel came to help.

The moment she moved away from the fire the cold air had wrapped around her, and she began to feel thoroughly chilled.

As they made the bed together, seeing her shiver, he remarked, ‘The duvet appears to be a reasonable weight, so it should be warm enough in bed.’

Suddenly focusing on the fact that there was only the one bed, she felt her stomach start to churn.

Picking up her excitement and apparently interpreting it as alarm, he said, ‘Don’t worry, the bed’s all yours.’

In a strangled voice, she queried, ‘Well, if I have the bed, where will you sleep?’

‘I’ll make do with the armchair and a blanket.’

‘There aren’t any blankets, and only one duvet.’

Sounding anything but worried, he said, ‘In that case I’ll have to keep the fire well stoked…

‘Now, as I estimate that the lamp has only a few minutes’ burning time if we’re lucky, you’d better have the bathroom first.’ Tongue-in-cheek, he added, ‘There’s soap and towels, but I suppose you don’t fancy a cold shower?’

‘You suppose right,’ she said with feeling.

He grinned. ‘A kettle of hot water?’

‘Absolute luxury.’

‘Not a difficult woman to please.’

‘The only thing I mind is not being able to clean my teeth,’ she admitted.

Opening the nearest cupboard, he produced two cellophane-wrapped courtesy packs each containing a disposable toothbrush and toothpaste. ‘As to all intents and purposes we’re hotel guests, I suggest we borrow a couple of these.’

‘Wonderful.’

He handed her the packs, then carried the lamp and the kettle through to the bathroom and set them down on a shelf.

‘Will you manage at that?’

‘Very well, thank you,’ she said gratefully.

‘Then I’ll leave you to it.’ He went out, closing the door behind him.

Bethany cleaned her teeth in water so cold it almost made them ache, then slipping off her bracelet, washed in half a kettleful of hot water, leaving Joel the other half.

It was so cold in the bathroom she could see her breath on the air, but just the knowledge that he was close at hand made her feel warm inside. Being together like this, she could almost imagine they were married.

When she had finished, she hastened back to the fire to comb out her long dark hair while he took her place in the bathroom.

When he returned he brought the oil lamp, which was on its last expiring glimmer, and the empty kettle.

‘Generous woman,’ he remarked, adding, as he refilled the kettle and lit the gas, ‘I thought you might like a hot drink before we turn in?’

‘I would, please.’

Having washed their two mugs and made coffee, he came to sit beside her again, stretching his long legs towards the hearth.

The lamp flame had finally died, leaving the rest of the room full of shadows and making the circle formed by the flickering fireglow cosy and intimate.

Their coffee finished, she had just taken a breath to ask him about himself when he invited casually, ‘Tell me how you got into the antiques business.’

‘It was something I’d always wanted to do. Though my father is an accountant, he’s always been fascinated by old and beautiful things. A fascination he passed on to me, along with quite a bit of knowledge, so when I left school I got a job with Feldon Antiques in London.’

‘London’s a big place…and I’m quite sure we’ve never met. It’s just…’

Studying her lovely heart-shaped face in the firelight, the long-lashed grey eyes and dark winged brows, the neat nose and generous mouth, the determined chin that added such character, he went on with a half smile, ‘I have the strangest feeling I’ve seen you somewhere before…You have a face I seem to recognize. To remember…’

When, suddenly transfixed and with her heart racing wildly, she just gazed at him, he went on, ‘But perhaps you don’t know the feeling of something half-remembered…?’

As she held her breath a log settled with a rustle and a little explosion of bright sparks.

‘Maybe it was in my dreams that I met you…’ He reached out and ran a fingertip down the curve of her cheek to the little cleft in her chin. ‘Maybe in some dream I’ve kissed your mouth, held you close, made love to you…’

Tracing her lips, he added softly, ‘It’s what I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I saw you…’