His Rags-to-Riches Bride: Innocent on Her Wedding Night / Housekeeper at His Beck and Call / The Australian's Housekeeper Bride
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She found she could even manage the sweet pastry tart filled with tiny strawberries that ended her meal, while Daniel followed his vichysoisse and river trout with a tiny pot of something dark, rich and alcoholically chocolate, of which she sampled a taste.
‘This is a magical place,’ Laine said, looking around her with shining eyes. They had been given a secluded table in the corner of the Manor’s famous conservatory, where the massive vine above their heads was already loaded with bunches of small grapes. Because of the evening’s warmth the doors stood open to the garden, and subdued lights had begun to edge the scented borders outside as the daylight faded.
She added, more stiltedly, ‘I—I’ll remember it always.’ She tried to smile. ‘I don’t think Spain is going to be anything like this.’
‘I don’t suppose so either,’ he said. ‘So why go?’
She stared down at the linen tablecloth. ‘You speak as if I have a choice.’
‘Actually, you do,’ he said quietly. ‘You could stay here in England—with me.’
The world seemed to stop suddenly. She found she was fighting for breath. For the ability to say, in a voice she barely recognised, ‘You’re offering me a job?’
‘Not exactly.’ He smiled at her across the steady flame of the little lamp in the centre of the table. ‘I’m asking you to be my wife.’
There was a silence, then she said, in a tone that wobbled slightly, ‘If that’s a joke, it’s not a very kind one.’
He reached out and took her hand, stroking her slender fingers. ‘Do I make a habit of being unkind?’
Mutely, she shook her head, trying to banish from her mind the memory of that seemingly endless procession of blondes.
‘Well, then.’ There was another long silence, then he said on a note of faint amusement, ‘My sweet, this hesitation on your part is doing my self-esteem no good at all. You see, I thought you liked me.’
‘I do.’ I love you—love you. I always have and I always will.
‘But not enough to marry me—is that it?’
She still couldn’t look at him. ‘I suppose—I’ve never thought of you as—the marrying kind.’
He said slowly, ‘I could say I’ve been waiting for you to grow up, but I doubt you’d believe me—not when you’ve watched me sow a whole series of wild oats.’ And, as he saw her bite her lip, he added more urgently, ‘Is that the problem, darling—my past? Couldn’t we agree to bury it, and simply concentrate on the future instead?’
He paused. ‘Unless you’re determined to marry another virgin? And I really hope that’s not true, for all kinds of reasons.’
She felt her face warm involuntarily, and said on a little gasp, ‘Oh, no, I—I’m not.’ I just don’t know what to say to someone who’s made all my wildest, sweetest dreams come true at once.
‘That,’ he said, ‘is a definite relief.’ He studied her for a moment, then said gently, ‘I’ve startled you, haven’t I, sweetheart? I didn’t intend that. I thought your female intuition would have warned you why I’d whisked you away with me this evening.’
She tried to smile. ‘Perhaps I’m not very female.’
‘Now, that I don’t believe.’ Quite casually, he turned her hand over and began to trace a gentle circle in its soft palm with the ball of his thumb. It was the lightest of touches, but Laine felt it piercing her, transfixing her with a shaft of desire so swift, so intense and so totally unexpected that she almost cried aloud in amazement. And in overwhelming need.
She was suddenly melting, liquid with a hunger she’d never even guessed could exist. Aware, too, that her nipples were swelling, hardening against their flimsy constraints, and that her every sense was on fire with the consciousness of him, and his proximity to her. Knew, at the same time that she wanted to be even closer. To be joined to him. To be part of him for ever, totally and irrevocably. To be a woman—his woman.
His voice reached her in a quiet murmur of sound. ‘Marry me, Laine.’
Her mouth was dry, the breath catching in her throat, but somehow she managed to whisper back, ‘Yes.’
And saw him bend his head in brief acknowledgment.
He released her hand, his mouth twisting in faint ruefulness. ‘And now,’ he said, ‘we’d better go and break the news to your mother.’
She wanted to cry childishly, But I don’t want to go yet. You’re staying here—you said so—and I want to be alone with you.
But of course she said nothing of the kind, just smiled and nodded, and tried to conceal the feeling of inner dread that was uncurling deep inside her, praying that it wouldn’t be justified.
She was wrong.
‘You want to marry Elaine?’ Angela stared at Daniel with narrowed eyes. ‘This child? But that’s quite absurd. I couldn’t possibly agree to any such thing.’
Laine stood beside him, her hand in his, wanting to sink through the floor with humiliation. She was aware of Candida sitting bolt upright, her face like a mask carved from stone, and Jeff Tanfield standing gaping by the drinks table, a glass in one hand, a whisky decanter in the other, as his already pink complexion deepened to crimson.
Daniel said quietly, ‘I’m not asking your consent, Mrs Sinclair. I don’t have to. I’m merely informing you of our intentions as a matter of courtesy. We plan to be married within the next few weeks.’
‘But that’s quite impossible.’ Angela gestured wildly. ‘I have this house to sell—a move to Spain to arrange. I couldn’t possibly organise a full-dress wedding as well.’
‘You won’t be asked to,’ Daniel said curtly. ‘I’ll talk to the Vicar myself about a mid-week date, and the guest-list—on my side anyway—will be minimal. We’ll hold a small reception here afterwards, and I’ll book the caterer and supply the champagne. The only contribution you need make is to help Laine choose something to wear and send the bill to me.’
‘You must have lost your mind,’ Angela said shortly. ‘For one thing the Daniel Flynns of this world simply do not get married at the drop of a hat to some little nobody in an out-of-the-way place like this.’
He gave her a level look. ‘Well, naturally I can’t speak for the rest of us, but this Daniel Flynn generally pleases himself. And my current intention is to make Laine my wife as quickly and as simply as possible.’ He turned to the girl at his side, lifting the hand he was clasping to his lips. ‘Which seems to be what she wants too.’
‘Yes.’ She found a voice from somewhere. ‘I do.’
‘And what about her mother in all this?’ Jeff Tanfield put down the decanter and moved forward with sudden belligerence. ‘Angela was relying on Elaine’s active support in this new venture of ours in Spain. We both were—as she well knows. As part of the team she’d gain valuable and exciting work experience—and also the chance to see something of the world.’
Daniel looked at him, his lip curling. ‘She’d provide you with a valuable skivvy, certainly. However, I think Laine will find living and travelling with me rather more amusing than the view from some Spanish laundry room. And I guarantee that the pay and conditions will be better too.’
Angela’s laugh was metallic. ‘Quite a Cinderella story—isn’t it? Except I can’t really visualise you as Prince Charming, my dear Daniel. I hope, for her sake, that my daughter knows what she’s taking on.’
‘If not, I’m sure you’ll tell her.’ His gaze flicked her contemptuously, then he turned and looked down at Laine, his expression softening. ‘The cab’s waiting, darling, and the driver has another job later. I have to go.’ He saw the desperation in her eyes and smiled reassuringly. ‘But I’ll be over first thing in the morning to take you shopping for a ring.’
Take me with you, she begged silently. Don’t leave me here with them. Take me away now—please.
‘Elaine has work to do tomorrow.’ Angela’s voice was inimical. ‘Besides, she’ll also be needed to show prospective buyers around.’
‘Use the estate agent,’ Daniel advised with equal coldness. ‘That’s what you’re paying him for. And I’ll get on to an agency and hire someone to take over Laine’s kitchen duties.’ He put his arm round Laine’s waist. ‘Now, come and say goodnight to me, sweetheart.’
The night was warm, but Laine shivered as she stood with him at the main door. ‘That was so horrible.’
‘It could have been worse, believe me.’ His tone was wry.
‘I don’t know how.’ There was a touch of desolation in her own voice. ‘Dan—I could go on doing the housework here. Mother might appreciate it, and I really don’t mind.’
‘But I do. I want your hands beautifully soft for our honeymoon.’ He grinned teasingly as her face warmed, then bent his head and kissed her swiftly and sensuously on the mouth. ‘Sweet dreams,’ he told her, and went.
Laine couldn’t face going back into the drawing room, so she went upstairs to get ready for bed—although she seriously doubted whether sleep would be an option.
She was just about to switch off her lamp when the door opened and her mother came in.
‘Well, you’re certainly a dark horse. Feed him some sob story, did you?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or is there another reason for this hasty wedding? He hasn’t got you pregnant, by some mischance?’
Laine’s face flamed. ‘You know that’s not true.’
Angela shrugged. ‘I can’t think of any other reason for him to bother with you. Although I suppose young flesh will always have its appeal—even to a sophisticate like Daniel Flynn. But marriage?’ She laughed harshly. ‘Never in this world, my dear.’
Laine sat up very straight, her throat so dry it hurt. ‘It doesn’t occur to you that he might be in love with me?’
‘No, frankly, it doesn’t. Is that what he’s told you?’
‘Of course.’ Surreptitiously Laine crossed her fingers under the covers. Because she suddenly realised that Dan had never mentioned the word ‘love’. Not when he’d proposed. Not in the cab-ride back to Abbotsbrook. Not while they were saying goodnight.
Not once.
And after Angela had finally left, and she was alone, it was a thought that came back to haunt her over and over again throughout the long night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SO, WHY did I go on with it, as if everything was all right? Laine asked herself wearily. Because our engagement was a pretty muted affair by anyone’s standards. Even with my inexperience I could see that.
Not that he’d been there very much, she reminded herself. And when he had come to see her he’d never stayed at the house, but made Langbow Manor his base again. And, though she’d dined with him there, it had always been in the restaurant. He’d never once suggested that they should be alone together in his suite. And she had been too shy to ask. To tell him how desperately she wanted to go into his arms—to belong to him completely.
‘So, where’s your ardent lover this weekend?’ her mother had once asked witheringly. ‘Conspicuous by his absence yet again.’
‘Wordwide are involved in a takeover bid for a German magazine company,’ Laine had said quietly. ‘It’s—thrown up some problems, and he needs to be there.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Besides, we have the rest of our lives to be together.’
‘If you say so,’ Angela had retorted with a shrug, and left Laine to her own devices.
But even when absent Daniel had been as good as his word on other matters. All the arrangements for the wedding had been in place without fuss or argument, and Laine had found that a bank account had been opened for her, containing more money than she could ever envisage spending.
In addition, a Mrs Goodman had been installed as temporary housekeeper, and had listened patiently to Angela’s orders and counter-orders, then gone her own briskly efficient way.
And Laine had received a phone call from a local driving school, requesting her to obtain a provisional licence as a course of lessons had been booked for her.
Everything I could have wished for, she thought. Except one—the most important—the most crucial of all. The knowledge of his true feelings where I was concerned.
So why didn’t I simply face up to the problem—ask him if he loved me?
Well, she told herself, she knew the answer to that. She’d loved him, and wanted him more than anything in the world. And Daniel’s own restraint—those brief, gentle kisses and fleeting caresses which aroused but did not satisfy—had only served to intensify her longing to fever-pitch.
It was as well, she thought, that she’d had so much to do, or she might have gone a little crazy. As a result, she had just allowed herself to be carried forward on the non-stop tide of activity, and tried not to think too much.
One of her tasks had been to sort through her books and other personal possessions, and transfer those she wished to keep to Daniel’s London flat—something had made the idea of being his wife seem slightly more real. That and the exquisite ruby and diamond cluster that they’d both spotted at the same moment from the myriad brought out for their inspection, smiling at each other and saying in unison, ‘That’s the one.’
The tangible evidence that he truly was going to marry her, she’d often thought, touching it gently.
She’d tried to be ruthless and only take the things that really mattered into her new life, giving the rest to the local charity shop. Nothing could have stayed where it was, anyway, because Abbotsbrook had been sold, and the buyer wanted vacant possession almost immediately.
‘It’s going to be a very expensive care home,’ she’d told Daniel on one of the occasions when they were dining together.
‘Apparently he has a chain of them.’
‘You don’t approve?’
Laine sighed. ‘It’s sold, and my mother is pleased, which has to be a good thing. But I think I always hoped that it would go on being a real home—for a family. That there’d be other children growing up there who’d love it as I did.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘Are your memories of it really so happy? I didn’t realise.’
‘Not all,’ she said. ‘But a great many of them.’ And most of them to do with you, my love—my love …
She forced a smile. ‘Anyway, it’s gone, and as far as Mother’s concerned it’s hasta la vista.’
‘I hope she got a good price,’ Daniel commented caustically. ‘She’ll need it to afford the upkeep on the glamorous Mr Tanfield’s cosmetic dentistry, quite apart from anything else.’
Laine nearly choked on a mouthful of turbot. ‘His smile is—dazzling,’ she admitted, trying not to giggle. ‘But they do seem happy together, I suppose.’
‘Heart-warming,’ Daniel said dryly. ‘And probably temporary. Has she considered drawing up a pre-nuptial agreement?’
Laine looked down at her plate, aware she was flushing. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I don’t think so.’ But, by a horrible coincidence, that was the exact advice she gave me last night—and one of the reasons we’re barely on speaking terms right now. The other being she’s invited Candida to the wedding.
‘And if he dumps you when the novelty wears off—what then?’ Angela had demanded. ‘He’s a very rich man, my dear—a multimillionaire, no less. He can afford to pay for his pleasures.’
‘If he dumps me,’ Laine had replied, wincing at the crudity, ‘then no amount of money could ever make things better, believe me.’
What neither she nor her mother had foreseen, of course, was that she would be the one who walked away.
It rained on her wedding morning, but the skies brightened just before she set off to the church, and Celia, who was helping her get ready, told her it was a good omen—the best.
‘Do you know where you’re going on honeymoon?’ she asked. ‘Or is it a surprise?’
‘We can’t go too far away while this takeover business is still simmering.’ Laine examined herself from all angles in the mirror, making sure the expensively demure white satin suit she’d chosen hadn’t developed any unsightly wrinkles or bulges overnight. ‘So Daniel’s rented us some secluded hideaway in the depths of the countryside.’
‘Good God,’ Celia said blankly. ‘Does it have plumbing?’
Laine laughed. ‘I think so—plus a swimming pool, so it can’t be too primitive.’ Although a shed in someone’s garden would do, as long as I was with him….
‘And when things settle down at Wordwide he says he’ll take me somewhere glamorous and romantic to make up for it,’ she added.
‘He hasn’t a brother, by any chance?’ Celia’s eyes were dancing. ‘Or even a cousin by marriage?’
‘Sorry, love.’ Laine grinned back at her. ‘But I gather the best man’s unattached—just.’
Celia gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘Then I’ll simply have to lower my sights.’ She wandered across to Laine’s suitcase, open on the bed, and ran a reverent hand over the folds of the delicate white voile nightgown lying on top.
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘Gorgeous, but a total waste of money.’
Laine concentrated fiercely on transferring her engagement ring to her other hand. ‘Oh, I thought I’d better have one—in case of fire.’
There was a silence, then Celia said, very gently, ‘Lainie—there’s nothing to worry about, truly.’
Laine looked at her, stricken. ‘Oh, God, is it so obvious?’
‘And if it is—so what?’ Celia returned robustly. ‘You bypass the frogs and get to kiss your prince first time around, that’s all.’ She paused. ‘Although, to be honest, I find it hard to figure how the pair of you have managed to keep your hands off each other.’
Laine’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. ‘Sometimes I wonder too.’ She picked up her bouquet of white roses and freesias and walked to the door. ‘It’s time we were going.’
Jamie was waiting for her in the hall. ‘Hey, you look pretty good,’ he informed her with brotherly candour. ‘The Lily Maid personified. Maybe Dan isn’t completely off his head after all.’
Laine gasped. ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
‘Just that he’s never seemed the marrying type,’ Jamie retorted as he helped her into the back of the waiting car. ‘And I bet the news went down like a lead balloon with Ma, although she couldn’t really have thought—’ He broke off abruptly, then started on a different tack. ‘Did you know she insisted we invite that Tanfield bloke to Dan’s stag night? Guy, the best man, reckons the slimy git wears a toupée, and if we’d had a bit more to drink we might have found out,’ he added, grinning. ‘But it turned out to be a pretty sober affair in the end. I guess my future brother-in-law didn’t want a serious hangover affecting his bridal performance.’
‘It would have to be more than serious to last for twenty-four hours.’ Laine spoke lightly, trying to hide her embarrassment.
Jamie gave her a derisive look. ‘If he intends to wait that long. There’s no law saying sex can only take place under cover of darkness, sister dear. As you may well find out before too long.’
Laine said quietly, ‘Could we change the subject, please?’
‘Absolutely,’ he agreed, unabashed. ‘Because it so happens I want a quiet word with you about a business matter.’
She gasped. ‘On the way to church?’
‘Why not? It’s good news, Lainie. The Beaumonts have decided to retire to Portugal—and they’ve given notice on the flat. It’ll be empty by the end of the month, and I’d like to move in there, but as it belongs to you too I have to get your written consent.’
He gave her an anxious look. ‘You won’t make waves, will you? After all, it’s not as if you’ll ever need the place yourself.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I won’t. And it’s fine with me. Send me whatever I need to sign when I come back from honeymoon.’
There were more people at the service than she’d expected, and not all of them wishing her well, she thought with a pang as she stood beside Daniel at the altar. But the ceremony itself, with its calm traditional words, was a comfort and a reassurance. She heard Daniel promise to love her until death, and vowed she would do the same. And the warmth of his mouth on hers became a benediction that made her tremble inside.
As they sat together in the back of the car returning them to Abbotsbrook for the brief reception, Daniel drew her close against him, his lips caressing her hair. He said softly, a smile in his voice, ‘Well, Mrs Flynn. Here we are at last.’
And Laine, staring down at her wedding ring, felt joy unfurl inside her like the buds on a springtime tree.
As soon as the toasts had been drunk and the cake cut, she slipped away to change. Celia, she saw with amusement, was flirting with the best man, and clearly did not wish to be disturbed.
But, Laine thought, I’d rather be on my own too—for these last moments in my old home before I leave it for ever as Dan’s wife.
She was in bra and briefs, just stepping into the pale yellow shift she planned to wear for the journey, when there was a knock on the door.
Daniel, she thought, her heart leaping, and called, ‘Come in.’
But when she saw her visitor she felt sick with disappointment.
‘Candida,’ she said. ‘What a surprise.’
‘It’s been a pretty surprising day all round,’ the older girl returned. She walked across the room, and sat down without invitation, on the edge of the bed, next to the case which, thankfully, Laine had just closed. ‘So Daniel actually went through with it. I’m amazed.’
Laine drew up her dress, sliding her arms into the brief cap sleeves, then began to fasten the long line of small fabric-covered buttons which closed its front.
She said quietly, ‘If you’ve come here to be unpleasant, I’d prefer you to leave.’
‘Oh, very dignified,’ Candida said mockingly. ‘The publishing tycoon’s lady to the life. He may not want to be married to you, but at least you’ll play the part—while it lasts.’
Laine walked to the door and opened it. ‘That’s quite enough,’ she said stonily. ‘Now, get out.’
‘When I’m good and ready. And only when I’ve finished saying what I came to say. So I suggest you come back and listen. I really do.
‘That’s better,’ she went on, as the younger girl slowly closed the door and went over to sit on her dressing stool. ‘You see, Elaine, I actually feel sorry for you. When Daniel said “I will” today, you must have thought you’d just won the major prize in life’s lottery.’
She smiled slowly. ‘But what you really heard, my poor child, was a man reluctantly stepping into the shoes of his dead friend. Steeling himself to accept responsibility for Simon’s hopeless and helpless little sister—just as he once promised.
‘A promise he made totally against his will, because he never believed he’d be called on to keep it. Because he was counting on Simon coming back and letting him off the hook.
‘Only Simon didn’t come back. Not for him—or anyone.’ Her voice took on a vicious note. ‘And suddenly Dan had you—round his neck like an albatross—weeping and wailing about the hand life had dealt you, with no qualifications and no prospects. Making him pity you all over again, and reminding him that he’d given his word he’d look after you.’
Laine said thickly, ‘I—don’t believe you.’
‘Of course not.’ Candida shrugged lightly. ‘And I don’t blame you. In your shoes I’d much rather persuade myself that Daniel had fallen in love with me. Except that his attentions haven’t been exactly marked since your engagement—or before it, for that matter.’
She gave a silvery laugh. ‘In fact I’d be most surprised to discover that you’re any more than just good friends. Although I’m sure Daniel will do his duty by you tonight.’
‘Duty?’ Laine lifted her chin disdainfully, trying to conceal the fact that her heart was thudding like a battering ram against her ribcage, and that she felt sick to her stomach with fright. ‘You imagine that’s all it will be?’
Candida regarded her calmly. ‘You still don’t believe me, do you? Would you like proof?’
No, thought Laine. I want you to disappear. I want the last five minutes never to have happened. I want the door to open all over again, and Daniel to come in and take me in his arms.
She sat and watched as Candida unfastened the clasp on her slim black bag and extracted a folded sheet of notepaper.
‘I’m afraid I found this among Simon’s things,’ she said. ‘Please believe it gives me no pleasure to show it to you.’