Teresa Hill – Diamonds are for Deception: The Carlotta Diamond / The Texan's Diamond Bride / From Dirt to Diamonds (страница 14)
‘And Sir Nigel believes that her spirit still lingers here?’ Charlotte asked with a shiver.
‘Yes.’
‘What do
‘I keep an open mind,’ he said lightly.
Charlotte would have liked to know more, but the brevity of his answer seemed to preclude any further questions.
‘Now, about ready for our outing?’ he queried.
‘I will be in a second or two when I’ve fetched my jacket and bag.’
‘While you do that, I’ll just put my head round Grandfather’s door and tell him we’re off.’
Outside, the air had turned appreciably colder and a rising wind was hustling ragged, charcoal-coloured clouds across a leaden sky.
As they made their way through a wide stone archway to the right of the house, Simon, who was wearing a short car coat, remarked, ‘It looks like the forecast’s correct and we’re in for some rain.’
‘If I’d been thinking straight I would have packed a mac instead of a jacket,’ Charlotte said ruefully.
But excitement had precluded straight thinking.
‘It won’t matter if it rains while we’re in the car, and I’ll try to park near the entrances to both the pub and the village hall… Of course if everyone has the same idea—’
‘We’ll just have to run between the drops,’ she finished, smiling.
He returned her smile.
Watching his excellent teeth gleam and laughter lines form at the corners of his eyes, she felt her heart begin to beat faster.
The force of his attraction was powerful, as if he were true north and she, like a magnet’s needle, couldn’t resist the pull.
‘As we’ll be going cross-country,’ he told her, when they reached the creeper-covered garage block, ‘what I will do is take the vehicle Frank Moon, our estate manager, uses, rather than my own car.’
Retrieving a large bunch of keys from a locked cupboard, he added, ‘A lot of the roads through the wooded areas are just rutted tracks, so if it does rain heavily, we may well need a four-wheel-drive.’
Glancing around her, Charlotte observed, ‘This looks like part of an old stable block.’
‘It is,’ he confirmed as he helped her into the big estate car. ‘There are still a couple of stalls left in the other part, but we haven’t kept horses since I was in my teens.’
‘Did you learn to ride as a child?’
Sliding behind the wheel, he answered, ‘Yes, but when I went to university there was only Lucy left and she didn’t care for horses, so Grandfather gave them to a local riding school for the blind.’
As the engine roared to life and they headed north through rolling parkland dotted with grey woolly shapes, he went on, ‘From time to time I’ve considered getting a couple of horses so I, and possibly a guest, could ride at weekends.’
Only half listening, she watched his hands on the wheel—strong, exciting hands with long, lean fingers and neatly trimmed nails—and pictured them touching her intimately, so that her breath came faster and butterflies danced in her stomach.
Making an effort to banish such erotic thoughts and concentrate, she pulled herself together, and said, ‘It sounds a wonderful idea. But wouldn’t you need someone to exercise them during the week?’
‘Our present chauffeur used to be a groom, and he’s declared himself more than willing to take them out on a daily basis.’
Then thoughtfully he asked, ‘I gather you ride?’
‘Yes, I learnt when I was about eleven. Of course, it wasn’t
‘Tell me about it.’
‘I rode a black horse named Milord. Though he stood seventeen hands, he was as gentle as a lamb. The problem was, we were always trailing behind the others.’
‘Why was that?’
‘His mouth was so hard he was able to do exactly as he pleased. He used to amble along at his own pace, stopping whenever he felt like it to tear chunks from people’s hedges and snatch whatever he could reach from their gardens. I often spent a lot of my ‘‘lesson’’ apologising,’ she added wryly.
Watching the corner of his long, mobile mouth lift in a smile, she found herself imagining that mouth moving against hers.
As though he knew exactly what she was thinking, he turned his head and their glances met.
In that instant, as green-gold eyes looked into grey, desire flared between them with a white-hot furnace heat.
Damn! Simon thought, returning his gaze to the road. Normally his feelings were well under control, but that unexpected and unplanned explosion of lust had taken him by surprise.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Charlotte’s face was as red as a poppy and she was staring fixedly ahead.
It was clear that the feeling had been mutual, which in some ways was satisfying. But it had come too soon.
He had every intention of seducing her, but when the time came to put his plans into action, he didn’t want her to be on her guard. It would only make things more difficult.
Feeling as though her very bones had melted like candle wax, Charlotte gazed through the windscreen, while she wondered confusedly how so much strong feeling, so much mutual passion could be whipped up in just an instant.
And surely it
A surreptitious sideways glance confirmed that Simon’s jaw was tightly clenched, and a dull flush lay along his hard cheekbones.
But though he was obviously roused, he had made no attempt to take advantage of the situation. Rather he had backed off.
She felt a rush of gratitude. If he had stopped the car and touched her, she would have been lost, and to get involved with someone like Simon Farringdon would be madness.
He might be used to casual sex and one-night stands, but she certainly wasn’t. And while
The experience would at best be unforgettable, at worst, scar her. Either way she would never be the same again.
For what seemed an age, but in reality could only have been a minute or so, they drove in silence. Then, unable to bear the tension a second longer, Charlotte rushed into breathless speech.
‘Just a moment ago I thought I glimpsed some buildings behind those trees…’
‘That’s Aston Prava…’ Simon’s voice sounded restricted ‘…it was purpose-built about ten years ago to house the estate workers. Though the hamlet
‘How did they manage?’ she asked abstractedly.
‘With bottled gas, and water pumped from the nearest stream or their own well.’
‘I can’t imagine any of them minded moving.’
‘The majority were delighted.’ Simon’s voice sounded more normal now. ‘Only Ben Kelston, our old gamekeeper, asked to stay where he was. His two-up, two-down cottage is in the woods miles from anywhere, and, as he was turned sixty at the time and doesn’t drive, Grandfather tried to talk him out of it. But he said firmly that he’d been born and bred at Owl Cottage—his father had been gamekeeper before him—and he didn’t want to leave. While a move might have been in Ben’s best interests, it would be a real shame if Owl Cottage was allowed to stand empty. It’s a picturesque timber-framed, cruck-trussed building that dates from the early fifteen-hundreds.’
‘It sounds delightful.’
‘It’s a perfect little gem. Unfortunately it’s so isolated that it’s unlikely anyone else would want to live in it.’
Grasping at the conversation as she would have grasped at a lifeline had she been drowning, she asked, ‘So is Ben still there?’
‘He was until a few days ago, when he fell and broke his hip. Frank happened to call in as he was passing, and found him lying on the scullery floor. He’s in hospital at the moment, and Frank and his wife are looking after things until he’s well enough to return home.’
‘Will he be all right, do you think?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Up to now he’s looked after himself well enough, and he’s kept the cottage spotlessly clean.’
‘But surely he won’t be able to manage the stairs?’
‘A few months ago, when he had a minor accident, Frank and I brought his bed downstairs, so that won’t present a problem…’
To Charlotte’s great relief, by the time they reached the electronically controlled north gates any awkwardness seemed to be forgotten, and she began to look forward to the evening ahead.
In the event, it proved to be a great success. The food at the Oulton Arms was tasty and satisfying, and they both thoroughly enjoyed the concert.
Though earlier the threatened bad weather had manifested itself only as a brisk wind and some light rain, by the time they left the village hall it was blowing a gale and pouring down.