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‘Not usually, though I did once deliver a baby where the mum had a broken ankle,’ she said with a smile, and set up the chess board on the table that slotted over his bed. ‘And I’d better check before I give you these—you’re not allergic to strawberries, are you?’
‘No. And I love strawberries. Thank you.’
She sat on the edge of the bed, so it would be easier for her to move the chess pieces according to his directions, and fed him the strawberries.
‘I can see why Ed’s so taken with you,’ he said when she’d finished. ‘He tends to be a bit cagey about letting us meet his girlfriends. Probably because we’re all so full on and we’ve been nagging him about…’ His voice tailed off. ‘I’ll shut up. I was about to be really tactless.’
‘Nagging him about it being time he got a life after his divorce?’ Jane asked.
George raised his eyebrows. ‘He told you about Camilla?’
‘Yes.’
He blew out a breath. ‘I told him he was making a huge mistake, but she’d told him she was pregnant, and Ed always does the right thing—so he married her.’
‘Pregnant?’ Ed hadn’t told her that bit.
It must have shown in her expression, because George grimaced. ‘So he didn’t tell you everything. Sorry. I didn’t mean to be tactless.’
‘That’s OK. So are you telling me that Ed has a child?’ But there hadn’t been any photographs of a baby in his flat. He hadn’t mentioned a child. And she just couldn’t see Ed turning his back on his child. He wasn’t that kind of man.
‘No. She lost the baby just after they got married.’ George left a very significant pause. ‘Or so she said.’
Ah. Now Jane understood. And she was relieved that she hadn’t been wrong about Ed. ‘And you think she was lying to him in the first place, to get him to marry her?’
George nodded. ‘Even though she was from the same kind of background as us, they really weren’t suited. She wanted different things and she definitely didn’t want to be a doctor’s wife. But Ed thinks it was all his fault for not giving her the life of luxury she wanted, and he’s been wearing a hair shirt ever since.’ He looked at her. ‘You’ve been good for him. You’re definitely helping him lighten up.’
Jane couldn’t help laughing. ‘That’s so ironic.’
‘How come?’
‘They used to called me “Plain Jane, Super-Brain” at school.’ Jenna had managed to get the whole school to chant that one. Especially the popular crowd she hung around with; Jane’s refusal to wear a ton of make-up or give up her studies to fit in with them had gone down very, very badly.
‘So you’re a nerd? Nerdy’s good,’ George said with a smile. ‘My sisters are all nerds. Have you met the girls yet?’
‘No.’
‘You’ll like them. They boss Ed around, and he…’ George grinned. ‘Well, he just lets them. He’s putty in their hands.’
She could just imagine it. And she’d just bet that the girls adored both their brothers. ‘Do they boss you about?’
‘They try—but, until one of them can beat me down a double black diamond ski run, they’re not going to get very far.’
She laughed. ‘Right now, even I could beat you down a nursery ski slope. You can’t ski when you’ve got a pin in your leg.’
‘Tell me about it.’ He rolled his eyes, looking disgusted. ‘The doctor said I can’t ski until the end of the year, at least. Ed says they’ll take the pin out when I’m healed, because I’m under forty.’
‘Ed’s been, how shall I put this?’ She gave him a wicked smile. ‘Well, he’s been boning up on orthopaedics.’
George laughed. ‘Oh, I love that you do bad puns. So will Charlotte. Actually, the girls will all love you.’
To be part of a big, noisy, warm, close family… Jane would give a lot for that. But she knew she was already presuming far too much. She and Ed had known each other for only a month. Yes, they were getting on well. Really well. But, given her track record in relationships, she’d be foolish to let herself hope for too much.
She pushed the thought away. ‘Have you met your physio yet?’
George grimaced. ‘Yes. He made me get up and walk about the day after the op.’
‘Absolutely. You need to keep you moving so your muscles don’t seize up—it’s going to drive you mad, but you really need to do what he says, to save yourself a lot of pain and hard work in the future.’
‘I can follow directions, you know.’
‘Can you?’ she asked.
He gave her a rueful smile. ‘OK, so I like to run my own life.’
‘At a hundred miles an hour.’
He laughed. ‘That Queen song was made for me.’ He sang a couple of bars from the chorus of ‘Don’t Stop Me Now’.
‘I think you might be right.’ She smiled back at him.
‘I’m glad Ed’s met you. You’re definitely more his type than the debutantes who used to throw themselves at him.’
‘Debutantes?’ What debutantes?
George frowned. ‘You mean he hasn’t told you?’
‘Told me what?’
‘Forget I said anything,’ he said hastily.
‘No. Especially as you’re in check. Told me what?’
He ignored the chessboard. ‘What do you call him at work?’
‘Ed.’
‘No, I mean, do you call him Dr Somers?’
‘No, he’s a qualified surgeon. He’s a Mr.’
‘Uh-huh.’ George paused. ‘Did he tell you what I do for a living?’
‘He said you’re in the family business.’ And that his family was well-to-do, though Jane hadn’t paid any real attention to that. It was Ed she found attractive, not his bank account.
‘I am. But I’m guessing he didn’t tell you what the business was.’
She frowned. ‘No.’
‘I’m learning to run the estate. Which comes with a country pile whose roof just eats money.’ He paused. ‘And, as the eldest son, that makes me heir to the barony as well as being the future custodian of said money-eating roof.’
Barony? Jane felt the colour drain from her face. Their father was a baron. Which meant that Ed, George and their sisters would all be targets for the paparazzi. The kind of people Celebrity Life was desperate to run stories about—the magazine that had judged her so very harshly, just recently.
George’s eyes widened with dismay. ‘Oh, God, I’ve really messed things up now, haven’t I?’
‘No.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘I suppose you get snapped a lot by the paparazzi.’
‘Usually doing something dashing, with my arm around a leggy blonde,’ George said ruefully. ‘I’m afraid I’m a bit of a stereotype. Well, I hope there’s more to me than that, but that’s how the press sees me. The playboy with a taste for blondes.’
Jane thought of Jenna, and felt sick.
As if he guessed part of what was worrying her, he said softly, ‘Jane, they tend to leave the rest of the tribe alone. They’re scared Alice will skewer them in court. Bea’s learned to turn it round so they end up being wowed by her architecture instead of her private life and give her the right sort of column centimetres. And Charlotte… well, she just speaks Latin to them and they don’t understand a thing she says, so they can’t get a story out of her. And Ed, they can’t work out at all. The only stories they can dig up about him tend to be him as the hero doctor, and he downplays it, so they can’t get a quote. Honestly, it’s just me they go for, normally.’
‘So am I going to get snapped on my way out of here, because I’m visiting you?’
‘I very much doubt it,’ he said. ‘I can hardly do anything scandalous with both wrists in plaster and a pinned leg.’
‘Oh, I think you could.’
He smiled. ‘Teasing me back—I like that. You’ll fit in to the family just fine.’
‘Ed and I are just good friends.’
‘Are you, hell. I haven’t seen him like this about anyone, and that includes Camilla. He moons about you.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘No, he doesn’t.’
‘Yes, he does, when you’re not with him. And that’s good.’ George looked solemn, for once. ‘I worry about him being too serious, and he’s way too hard on himself.’
‘He worries about you going too far.’
‘I might have learned my lesson. Almost a week of being stuck in here has given me an awful lot of time to do nothing but think.’
‘So you’re going to settle down? Every cloud has a silver lining, hmm?’
‘Something like that. He’s serious about you, Jane. Don’t hurt him. He’s a good man—the very best.’
‘I know.’
‘You’re in love with him, aren’t you?’
No way was she admitting to her feelings. ‘Can we change the subject? And, by the way, you’re in check again.’
‘Why didn’t you warn me how good you are at chess?’ George grumbled. But to her relief he changed the subject, and the conversation stayed light for the rest of her visit.
That evening, Ed said, ‘You’ve made a real hit.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘George. It was your day off, and I gather you spent half of it playing chess with him. And you took him strawberries. Hand-fed them to him, I hear.’
‘Well, he can hardly feed himself, given that his fingers are splinted and his wrists are in plaster as well. Wielding a spoon for him isn’t a big deal.’ She paused. ‘Do you mind?’
‘No.’ Though he didn’t meet her eye. ‘George talks a lot,’ he muttered.
So that was what was bothering him. He was worried that George had told her things he’d left out. Which was pretty much the case, she had to admit. She brought Ed’s hand up to her mouth and kissed his palm, then curled his fingers round the kiss. ‘He told me a lot about you. Probably things you’d rather I didn’t know, and I’m not breaking his confidence. But I can tell you that he really loves you.’ And she’d guess it would be the same with his sisters and his parents. How she envied him that. Knowing that he was loved for being himself.
She paused. ‘So when were you going to tell me what the family business was?’
Ed grimaced. ‘Sorry. I know I should’ve said something to you myself. But… how do you tell someone that you’re the son of a baron, without sounding as if you’re a huge show-off?’
‘The same way you do when your mother used to be a supermodel thirty years ago.’ She shrugged. ‘So do I need to start watching out for paparazzi?’ That was the one thing that had really worried her. George had said it wouldn’t be a problem, but she couldn’t imagine George being upset by the press, the way she was. Ed knew her better—not well enough to know about the reasons why, but he’d guess that her childhood had been partly in the spotlight because of her mother. And not always in a good way.
‘No, you don’t need to worry about them,’ Ed confirmed. ‘Something you should know,’ she said carefully. ‘I’m really not good with paparazzi.’
‘They must’ve been so intrusive when you were young, with your mum being a model.’
‘Something like that.’ She knew she ought to tell him about Jenna, about the article and the full story about what had happened with Shaun—but she just couldn’t bear to see the pity in his eyes.
‘I’m only the second son. They’re not interested in me,’ Ed said, kissing her. ‘I’m boring Mr Edward Somers, consultant obstetrician, who doesn’t even have a private practice delivering babies to the stars and minor royalty. So they leave me alone. George is far more interesting.’ He sighed. ‘Sometimes I think that George only does what he does to draw their fire away from us. But I could put up with a bit of annoyance from the paparazzi if it meant he’d stay in one piece.’
The following evening saw Ed sitting at George’s bedside. ‘I gather you ratted me out to Jane.’
‘Ah. Sorry about that.’ George looked faintly guilty. ‘When she said you’d told her about Camilla, I thought you’d told her the lot. Including about the baby.’
Ed blew out a breath. ‘Oh, great. She didn’t mention that.’
‘Because she’s tactful and I talk too much.’
‘Actually, no, you don’t talk enough,’ Ed said, seizing the opening.
‘Why do I get the distinct impression that I’m not going to like this conversation?’ George asked.
‘Because I want you to tell me what’s wrong.’
‘Nothing’s wrong. I’m just grumpy about having to be more sedate than I usually am.’
‘No, I mean before that.’ Ed paused. ‘I’ve been thinking. Are you feeling trapped?’
‘In this hospital bed, and knowing I can’t drive for weeks?’ George rolled his eyes. ‘Totally.’
‘I mean trapped by all the expectations on you. You’ve grown up knowing everyone expects you to take over from Dad. But if there’s something else you’d rather do—maybe there’s something we can work out.’
George shook his head. ‘Ed, you don’t have to worry about that. It’s not the barony stuff. I’m just an adrenalin junkie, that’s all. I’m fine with taking over from Dad. Actually, I’m beginning to see what he likes about managing the estate.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ George confirmed.
‘And you’d tell me if something was wrong? Even if I couldn’t help you fix it, I’m always here to listen. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do. Just as I’m here for you, Tarzan.’ George raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re serious about Jane, aren’t you?’
‘Don’t try to change the subject.’
‘I like her,’ George said. ‘She gets what makes you tick. She wouldn’t make you miserable, like Camilla did.’
‘That’s not fair, George. I made Camilla just as miserable as she made me.’
‘But you’re taking the blame for it. And that’s not fair either. She trapped you into marriage. She lied her face off, knowing you’d do the right thing by her.’
Ed waved a dismissive hand, not wanting to talk about it. Or about how much he’d loved the idea of being a father. Or how something in him had broken when Camilla had made it very clear that she didn’t want to try making another baby, and he realised he’d married completely the wrong woman for him. ‘I still think something’s up. Something you’re not telling me.’
George just laughed. ‘You’ll turn into a conspiracy theorist next! I’m fine. Let’s set up the chess board.’
He wasn’t fine, Ed thought. But clearly his brother wasn’t ready to open up yet. Ed had a strong suspicion that it was something to do with their mother and the meeting George had had with her solicitor, but he was just going to have to wait until George was ready to talk. And when he was ready, Ed would make sure he was there.
CHAPTER TEN
‘I KNOW it’s a big ask, and it’s not really a “come and meet the folks” thing,’ Ed said on the Friday night. ‘George is bored out of his mind, you’re the only person who’s managed to beat him at chess in five years, and he’s desperate for a rematch.’
‘And it’s going to be easier for us to go and visit him than for you to bundle him into your car and bring him here, especially as he’s probably not going to be too comfortable in a car,’ Jane finished.
Ed looked relieved that she understood his worries. ‘Yes.’
‘So is your whole family going to be there?’ she asked.
‘Um, yes. George is staying with our parents until he’s out of plaster. But I’ll tell them to back off and keep their questions to themselves. And there won’t be any paparazzi. Though I can guarantee that lunch will be good—Frances is a fantastic cook.’ He looked beseechingly at her. ‘So will you come with me on Sunday?’
To meet the rest of Ed’s family. But she’d already met George and liked him; plus the heat would be off her, because everyone’s attention would be on George and they’d all be trying their hardest to persuade him not to do anything reckless once he was out of plaster again. ‘So am I going as your colleague who just happened to beat George at chess?’ she asked carefully.
‘Um, no. George has told them all that my new nickname’s Tarzan. And why. And I can’t even shake him for it because he claims he might still have concussion.’
Ed looked so disgusted that Jane couldn’t help laughing. ‘Poor George. He really is bored, isn’t he? Of course I’ll come.’ She paused. ‘Um, what do I wear?’ Fashion had never been her strength. What did you wear when you met a baron? Was she going to have to grab Sorcha for an emergency clothes-shopping trip?
‘Wear anything you like. It’s the country pile, so I’d suggest something dogproof. If it helps, I’m wearing jeans.’
On Sunday morning, Ed drove them to his family home in Suffolk. It didn’t take as long as Jane had expected before Ed turned into a long tree-lined drive. Finally, the house came into view and Ed parked on the gravel in front of it. The hall was a huge redbrick building with stone mullioned windows; at each corner there was a narrow tower, each capped with a leaded domed roof.
‘Wow, it’s gorgeous,’ she said. ‘And I take it that’s the money-eating roof George was telling me about?’
‘It certainly is,’ Ed said with a rueful smile.
‘Has your family lived here very long?’ She grimaced. ‘Sorry, I’m being nosey. I didn’t look you up on the Internet because—well, it felt a bit too much like spying.’
‘Ask whatever you like. And it’s not spying.’ Ed took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Yes, the Somers family has lived here ever since the house was built, nearly five centuries ago. Dad’s the fifteenth baron. There is a little bit of family money left, but back in Victorian times there was a baron who dabbled in scientific experiments and rather neglected everything else, and my great-grandfather lost a small fortune in the Wall Street Crash. So I guess we’re like a lot of old families—land-rich and a bit cash-poor, because the maintenance is crippling and everything’s entailed.’
‘Meaning you can’t sell because it has to go to the next generation?’
‘Exactly. Dad says we’re custodians and we’re privileged to have grown up here. And he’s right. We are.’ He stole a kiss. ‘We have a maze. I am so showing you that.’
‘A maze. Like Hampton Court?’ she asked.
‘Sort of, but on a much smaller scale. And the rose garden. Dad’s got a thing about roses. But it’s fabulous—at this time of year, you walk through and you just breathe in the scent and it’s like drinking roses.’
‘So it’s a big garden?’
He nodded. ‘It’s open to the public on Wednesdays and Saturdays, and whatever national garden open days Dad wants to do. The estate has to support itself. Frances got the hall licensed for weddings five years ago, so we can offer packages; and there’s a minstrel’s gallery in the Great Hall, so we sometimes hold concerts here.’ He shrugged. ‘Most summer weekends, there’s something on; we’re lucky that this weekend it’s just us. Come on. Dad and Frances are expecting us.’
She followed him over to the front door, feeling ever so slightly out of her depth. As soon as Ed opened the front door, three dogs bounded down the hallway, barking madly and their tails a wagging blur. Jane crouched down to greet them and had her face thoroughly licked by the chocolate Labrador.
‘That’s Pepper,’ he said. ‘The Westie’s called Wolfgang, and the setter’s Hattie, short for “Hatter” because she’s as mad as one.’
‘They’re lovely.’ She continued making a fuss of them. How lucky Ed had been, growing up in a sprawling place like this. She’d just bet that the children had all been encouraged to run around the garden, with no shouting if they got grubby because it would all come out in the wash. Her own family had lived in a smart London apartment with too much glass and all-white furniture you didn’t dare touch in case you left finger-marks. Which was fine for Jenna, who’d perfected elegance at a very early age, but Jane had always been in trouble for breaking things and making a mess. Even in her parents’ new home in Cornwall, the furniture was so carefully arranged that the rooms felt ready for a photo shoot; you didn’t dare relax in case you moved a cushion out of place.
‘Ed, we’re so glad you could make it.’ A tall, elegant woman hugged him.
Jane got to her feet, aware that she was already covered in dog hair and slightly dishevelled. Not exactly the best impression she could make on Ed’s family, but never mind.
‘And you must be Jane. I’m Frances.’ The older woman looked at her for a moment, as if considering shaking her hand, and Jane felt even more intimidated; and then she was enveloped in as huge a hug as Ed had received. ‘It’s so lovely to meet you. Come into the kitchen. It’s a bit manic around here—but, then, George is home, so of course it’s going to be manic.’
All her nervousness vanished instantly. Everything was going to be just fine. Ed’s parents weren’t in the slightest bit snobby; they were warm and welcoming, like Ed himself. As she followed Ed and Frances into the kitchen, Jane was shocked to realise that she already felt at home here—far more so than she did in her own parents’ home. Here, she knew she’d be accepted exactly for who she was; and she didn’t feel like a disappointment, the second-best child.
The man sitting at the table with the Sunday papers spread out before him looked up. Even before they were introduced, Jane could see that this was George and Ed’s father; he had the same colouring and strong features.
Ed’s father stood up and hugged him. ‘Ed, my boy.’ Jane received the same warm greeting. ‘It’s so nice to meet you, Jane. Welcome.’
‘Um, shouldn’t I be curtseying or something?’ she asked.
‘Good God, no!’ David smiled at her. ‘Don’t even think of standing on ceremony. We’re perfectly normal. Well, possibly except George, and you’ve already met him—and you’re just as he described you.’ He gave Ed a speaking look. ‘At least one of our sons tells us things, Tarzan.’
‘Oh, no—he’s got you at it as well,’ Ed groaned, but he was laughing. ‘And may I remind you that one of your sons doesn’t also spend his time narrowly avoiding avalanches or paragliding into cliffs? You can’t have it both ways, Dad. Sensible and silent, or mad and gossipy. Your choice.’
‘Oh, stop it, you two.’ Frances flapped a tea towel at them, laughing. ‘Jane, you’ve just come all the way from London, so you must be gasping for some coffee.’
‘I’d love some, but I can see you’re up to your eyes.’ Jane gestured to the pile of broad beans that Frances had clearly been podding. ‘Shall I make the coffee for everyone, or would you prefer me to help you with the beans?’
Frances gave her an approving smile. ‘Making the coffee would be lovely. Thank you.’
‘So where’s George?’ Ed asked.
‘In the library, plotting,’ David said. ‘He’s thinking about setting up some ghost walks for the winter. And just talk him out of this fireworks idea, would you? It terrifies me that he’s going to take a course, get qualified and start blowing things up.’
‘Since when does George listen to me?’ Ed asked.
‘You’d be surprised. And he’s set up the chess board, Jane; he’s desperate for that rematch with you.’
‘So Ed told me.’ She smiled back at him.
‘Are the girls here yet?’ Ed asked.
‘Bea’s got a meeting but she’ll be down just after lunch. Alice is bringing Charlotte with her from the ivory tower,’ Frances said. ‘They’ll be here any time now.’
Jane made the coffee, and Ed added milk and sugar to various cups. ‘We’d better take one of these to George.’
‘With a straw,’ Frances added. ‘He’s not coping very well with losing his independence.’
‘I did warn you he’d be a terrible patient,’ Ed said dryly. ‘If he gets too fed up, he can always stay at my place.’
‘In your flat, he’d be too cooped up. At least here he can limp around the garden with the dogs and mutter that he’s never going paragliding again,’ David said with a smile.
Ed ushered Jane through narrow corridors to the library—a light, airy room with more bookshelves than Jane had ever seen in her life, with several battered leather sofas scattered about, a grand piano and a huge, huge fireplace.
George was reclining on one of the sofas with a pair of crutches propped next to him, and a small table on his other side with a chessboard set out on it.
‘Janey. Lovely to see you. Excuse me for not standing up; I hurt a bit, today. And, yes, Ed, I have done my physio today, before you ask.’
‘I didn’t say a word.’ Ed spread his hands. ‘I know better than to nag.’