“What are you thinking?”

“I was thinking that if you did want to take me to bed perhaps it might be a good thing,” she said thoughtfully, and felt him tense against her.

“Would you say that again?” he demanded.

“I’m sure I don’t have to.”

“So why do you think it would be a good thing? From my own point of view it’s a ravishing idea, of course, but—”

“I think it would give me closure.”

“Closure?” Alasdair put an ungentle finger under her chin to raise her face to his. “What does that mean?”

Kate looked at him defiantly. “Meeting you again has revived old ghosts. Maybe going to bed with you would lay them for good.”

Sweet Surrender
Catherine George

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE

KATE was about to dismiss her class of lively eight-year-olds for half-term, when the headmaster called her outside into the hall.

Bill Vincent eyed her hopefully. ‘Can you do me an enormous favour, Kate?’

‘Of course, if I can. What’s the problem?’

‘Could you possibly hang on with young Abby Cartwright for a while? Her father’s on the phone from the hospital—’

Kate winced. ‘Not the baby already?’

‘Weeks early, hence the panic. Fortunately the grandparents were arriving today anyway. Abby’s uncle is fetching them from Heathrow, and will collect her on the way back.’

‘Which means Uncle’s not likely to collect Abby any time soon, then,’ she said, resigned.

‘Afraid not. I’ve got a Consortium meeting, or I’d stay myself—’

‘Better if I do it,’ said Kate promptly. ‘I’m her teacher, the one she knows best. She’s new this term, and so shy she’s finding it hard to make friends. I’ll take her home with me.’

The Head smiled, relieved. ‘Thanks a lot, Kate. Will you give Tim Cartwright the glad news? I’ll look after your class.’

Kate picked up the phone in the office to reassure a distraught Tim Cartwright.

‘I’m on a hospital payphone, Miss Dysart, so I’ll be brief,’ he told her. ‘Julia’s desperately worried about Abby and wants me to go home, but I hate the thought of leaving her. Mr Vincent said you’ll take care of Abby, but are you really prepared to do that until my brother-in-law arrives? He could be late.’

‘No problem at all, Mr Cartwright,’ said Kate soothingly. ‘You stay with your wife and tell her not to worry. I’m taking Abby home with me. Laurel Cottage at the end of the village. But could you contact her uncle, please, and give him my phone number?’ Kate waited as he made a note of it, cut short Tim Cartwright’s fervent thanks and went back to her class to report to Bill Vincent that everything was sorted.

When the other children streamed out to join waiting parents Kate called Abby Cartwright from the window. The child turned quickly, her blue eyes anxious behind her spectacles, fine flaxen hair escaping from its bunches.

‘Abby,’ Kate said gently, ‘your father won’t be picking you up today. He’s just taken your mother to the hospital to have the baby—’

‘But he can’t come yet, Miss Dysart, it’s too soon!’ said the child in alarm.

‘You know it’s a boy, then?’ Kate smiled reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry. Baby brother’s in a hurry, that’s all. Your uncle’s coming to collect you on the way back from the airport.’

‘Then he’s gone to fetch Grandma and Grandad,’ said Abby with relief. Her face fell. ‘But do I have to wait here at school until they come?’

‘No. I’ll take you home with me.’

After Kate had collected her belongings and surrendered the classroom to the caretaker who doubled as cleaner, she said goodbye to her colleagues and took Abby out to her car. Because the village school was too short of space for a car park her elderly little runabout was outside in the village street, as usual, and as Kate approached it with Abby a man emerged from a sleek foreign vehicle parked a short distance away.

Kate stared in utter amazement, convinced for a moment that she was seeing things. But Alasdair Drummond, even taller than she remembered in a formal dark suit, was too solid a figure to be an apparition.

‘Hello, Kate.’ He strode towards her, hand outstretched, his smile familiar and self-confident.

Kate touched the hand briefly. ‘This is a surprise, Alasdair. What on earth are you doing here?’

‘I came to see you, Kate.’

He expected her to believe that?

When she made no response his eyes narrowed. ‘I realise I should have got in touch first, but I’ve been to a funeral, so on impulse I came out this way afterwards on the chance of seeing you.’

Kate turned to the child beside her. ‘I’ll just pop you in my car, Abby, while I talk to this gentleman for a moment. Shan’t be long.’

Kate fastened Abby into the passenger seat, closed the door and looked up at Alasdair Drummond, displaying none of the over-the-moon delight he’d obviously expected. At one time she would have given her soul to see him turn up out of the blue like this. But not for many a long year, and certainly not here, where they were attracting far too much attention from her departing colleagues.

‘One of your pupils?’ asked Alasdair.

‘Yes.’ Kate explained the situation briefly. ‘So I’m afraid you’ve come out of your way for nothing—I can’t even ask you to my place for a coffee.’

‘I’d hoped for a lot more than coffee.’ His eyes held hers. ‘Take pity on an old friend, Kate, and have dinner with me tonight.’

He had to be joking!

‘Sorry, Alasdair.’ Not that she was, in the slightest. ‘Even without the present complications I’m much too busy. I’m going home tomorrow for half-term—’

‘I know. Your brother told me over lunch yesterday.’

Kate’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’ve seen Adam?’

‘He’s auctioning some furniture for me.’

And Adam hadn’t seen fit to mention it?

Kate caught sight of Abby’s anxious face through the car window. ‘Look, I really must go.’

Alasdair caught her hand. ‘I’ll ring you later. Adam gave me your number.’

Less pleased with her brother by the minute, Kate detached her hand, said goodbye, got into her car, backed it away carefully to avoid contact with the pristine Italian paintwork of Alasdair’s, and, with a cool little wave to him, turned to the child in apology as she drove off. ‘Sorry about that.’

After the shock of meeting Alasdair Drummond again, Kate was halfway home before her attention returned to the tense, silent child behind her. ‘Are you all right, Abby?’

The little girl looked up at Kate, her eyes desperately worried behind her spectacles. Her lower lip trembled. ‘Does it hurt a lot to have a baby, Miss Dysart?’

Kate chose her words carefully. ‘I can’t speak from personal experience, Abby, but all six of my assorted nephews and nieces arrived without much trouble. Don’t worry. I’m sure your mother will be fine,’ she added firmly. And sent up a fervent prayer that she was right.

Kate’s home was one of a pair of small cottages a mile past the village itself. Situated deep in rural Herefordshire, Foychurch was a friendly place, with inhabitants who made Kate so welcome to the close-knit community from her first day at the village school that she’d soon felt as much part of it as she did at home in Stavely.

When they arrived Kate unlocked the front door, which opened directly into the sitting room, and ushered her guest inside.

‘What a sweet little house, Miss Dysart,’ said Abby in admiration.

‘Just right for one,’ Kate agreed, as she took the child’s coat. ‘Sit down and make yourself at home, while I make some tea and find something for you to drink.’

The phone rang while Kate was in the tiny, galley-style kitchen.

‘Miss Dysart? Jack Spencer. Tim gave me your number. I gather my niece is with you?’

‘That’s right, Mr Spencer.’

‘Look, Miss Dysart, I’m really sorry about this, but I’m stuck here at Heathrow for a while. My parents’ plane is delayed.’

‘I assure you it’s no problem. I’ll keep Abby safe until you arrive, whatever time it is.’ Kate supplied her address, then joined her little guest.

‘That was your uncle, Abby. I’m afraid he won’t be here for a while. Your grandparents’ plane is delayed.’

Abby perched on the edge of the sofa with her fizzy drink, eyeing Kate in distress. ‘I’m sorry to be such a nuisance, Miss Dysart.’

‘Of course you’re not a nuisance!’

The child smiled gratefully. ‘Uncle Jack is Mummy’s brother,’ she confided. ‘He’s a builder.’

The word conjured up a vision of low-slung jeans and suntanned torso which went rather well with the voice on the phone.

‘In a little while I’ll make something to eat, Abby,’ said Kate, ‘but first I must ring my mother.’

Upstairs in her bedroom, Kate rang home and explained why she might not be home as early as expected next day. ‘If it’s late before Abby’s collected tonight I fancy a long lie-in tomorrow before the drive.’

‘Poor little thing,’ said Frances Dysart with sympathy. ‘I hope everything goes well with the baby.’

‘Amen to that. By the way,’ Kate added quickly, ‘it wasn’t my only surprise of the day, Mother. You’ll never believe who was waiting for me outside school. Alasdair Drummond turned up out of the blue to ask me out to dinner.’

‘Ah, Adam thought he might.’

‘You knew about it? Honestly, Mother,’ said Kate indignantly, ‘you might have warned me.’

‘Alasdair wanted to surprise you.’

‘He certainly managed that.’

‘So are you having dinner with him?’

‘No way. Even without my little visitor, I had other plans for my evening.’

‘Something nice?’

‘Total bliss. Early to bed with a book.’

‘Oh, Kate!’ Frances laughed ruefully. ‘Was Alasdair disappointed?’

‘Why should he be?’ said Kate tartly. ‘He’s managed perfectly well without my company for a good few years now.’

‘I think you should know,’ said her mother carefully, ‘that Adam’s asked him to the christening.’

‘He’s done what?’

‘Darling, Adam thought you’d be pleased.’

Conceding that she’d have been euphoric at one time, Kate managed a chuckle. ‘Don’t worry, Mother, I won’t be too rough on the new daddy. How’s the new mummy?’

‘Very well. Mainly because her son lets Gabriel sleep now and then. Which is more than his father did for me!’

Kate laughed. ‘I trust Adam’s shouldering his share of the nappy-changing and so on?’

‘He’s a natural—took to fatherhood like a duck to water. Drive carefully, darling, and give me a ring when you start out.’

Kate stood grinding her teeth for a moment afterwards, furious with Adam for inviting Alasdair to the christening. Alasdair Drummond had been her first love, it was true. And even after all these years his physical presence still had an impact on her hormones. But her brain strongly objected to his assumption that she’d jump at the chance of an evening with him at the snap of his fingers. Alasdair had always been utterly sure of himself, socially and academically, and in that respect he obviously hadn’t changed in the slightest. But she had. Her eyes narrowed to a dangerous gleam. He would find that Kate Dysart was very different these days from the worshipful little student of the past.

‘Miss Dysart?’ called a hesitant voice, and Kate jerked out of her reverie and hurried from the room to find her little guest at the foot of the stairs.

‘Sorry to be so long, Abby, I’ve been chatting to my mother on the phone.’

‘Could I go to the loo, please?’

Kate ushered Abby up to the tiny bathroom hurriedly. ‘Sorry about that,’ she apologised when her guest came downstairs. ‘I’ll have a very quick bath, then I’ll make us some supper.’

‘I’ll get on with some of the reading you’ve given us for half-term, then.’

‘Good girl. I shan’t be long,’ Kate ran upstairs and stripped off her serviceable navy sweater and skirt, wishing she could lie in a hot bath for hours instead of a scant five minutes before starting on her hair. Afterwards, in jeans, sneakers and sweatshirt, Kate draped a towel round her shoulders under her wet hair and went down to join Abby, who gazed at her in astonishment.

‘You look ever so different with your hair down, Miss Dysart!’

Kate smiled. ‘Our secret, OK? Right, then, Abby, I know you’re a whiz at reading, but how’s your cooking?’

‘I help Mummy sometimes.’ A smile transformed the sober little face.

‘Good girl. Do you like pasta?’

‘I love it! Can I grate the cheese?’

Tim Cartwright rang while they were occupied, to report that things were going along satisfactorily enough, but it would be hours before the actual birth. He thanked her fervently, requested a talk with his daughter, and afterwards Abby handed the phone back to Kate with a sigh.

‘The baby won’t be here for a long time yet,’ she said despondently, then brightened. ‘But Daddy said Mummy’s fine and she’s sent me a kiss and told me to thank you for being so kind.’

‘How nice of her, especially when she’s so busy,’ said Kate, eyes twinkling, and gave Abby a wooden spoon to stir the tomato sauce. ‘Have a taste—very carefully—and tell me what you think.’

There was no space for any activity other than cooking in Kate’s kitchen, which meant that supper was eaten from trays on their knees in the sitting room, to Abby’s delight.

‘This is yummy,’ she said, tasting the pasta. ‘Just like Mummy’s.’

Kate smiled, accepting this for the supreme accolade it was. ‘Thank you, Abby. Eat it all, because I’m afraid there’s only fruit or cheese afterwards.’

‘I don’t mind,’ declared Abby, and, with the obvious intention of being a good guest, by way of polite conversation asked if Miss Dysart was going away for the holiday.

Touched, Kate explained that she was going home to Stavely for the week. ‘In time for my new little nephew’s christening,’ she explained. ‘My brother’s baby. He’s six weeks old and I’m his godmother, so I’ll be the one holding him when the vicar splashes water on his forehead.’

‘Gosh,’ said Abby, impressed. ‘I expect he’ll cry.’

‘If so I shall hastily hand him back to his mummy!’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Henry Thomas, after both his grandfathers, but known as Hal, his grandma tells me.’

‘Have you seen him yet?’

‘No. Which is why my brother arranged the christening for half-term, so I could be there.’

Not that she couldn’t have driven home to Friars Wood for a fleeting visit before now. But running home at every possible opportunity was an indulgence Kate had made herself crack down on a long time ago.

After supper Abby helped wash up and clear away, by which time Kate’s mane of dark hair was dry, and curling down her back in glossy profusion, much to Abby’s admiration. As they worked together Kate encouraged her to talk, drawing her out about her life in London before coming to Foychurch, and learned that Abby missed her schoolfriends there, but loved her new home in the country.

‘Miss Dysart,’ said Abby after a pause, her voice so forlorn Kate’s heart was wrung, ‘can I ask you something?’

Kate braced herself. ‘Ask away.’

‘Do you think Mummy will still love me the same when she’s got a new baby?’

‘I can assure you that she will, Abby,’ said Kate, thinking on her feet. ‘I’ve got three sisters and a brother, and my mother loves us all. But in a special way for each of us, because we’re all different people.’ A bit sentimental, she thought wryly, but it was worth it to see the strain fade from the worried little face.

Deciding a dose of mundane television was the best diversion for a while, Kate tuned in to an innocuous game show, and half an hour passed without more heart-searching because Abby, to her great triumph, gave some correct answers to the questions put to the contestants. Before the show ended there was a knock on the door, and Kate opened it to a man with shaggy fair hair, massive shoulders, and a rugged face with laughter lines raying from eyes which looked down at her in blank astonishment.

‘Good evening, Does Miss Dysart live here?’

‘I’m Katharine Dysart—’ But Kate got no further before a small figure hurtled past her and flung itself into the man’s arms.

‘Uncle Jack, Uncle Jack—you came!’

Abby’s uncle swept her up into a bear hug. ‘Of course I came, muggins. Sorry I’m late.’ He smiled at Kate over the fair head burrowing against his shoulder. ‘Jack Spencer. We spoke on the phone.’

‘How do you do? Please come in.’

‘Down you go, sweetheart.’ Abby’s uncle set his burden down, his smile warm for Kate. ‘My mother’s deeply grateful to you, Miss Dysart. She apologises for not coming on with me, but she was feeling rough after the flight, so I dropped her off with my father at Hope House first. My parents send their thanks.’

‘It was no trouble at all,’ Kate assured him. ‘We’ve had a very nice evening, haven’t we, Abby?’

The little girl nodded fervently. ‘I helped make supper, Uncle Jack, and we ate it in here because Miss Dysart doesn’t have a table, and we watched television, and Daddy rang, but the baby still hasn’t come—’

‘Whoa!’ said her uncle, laughing. ‘You’ve obviously had a ball, chatterbox. Now, let’s get you home to bed.’

While Abby made a trip to the bathroom before the ride home, Kate seized the chance of a private word. ‘Mr Spencer, when Abby’s father reports next will you tell him she’s afraid Mummy won’t love her anymore once the new baby comes?’

‘Good God!’ He stared at her, aghast. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll put Tim in the picture the first minute I can.’

‘Thank you.’ Kate glanced up with a smile as the little girl came hurtling through the door at the foot of the stairs. ‘Steady on, there.’

Abby smiled shyly at Kate. ‘Thank you very much for having me, Miss Dysart.’

‘It was a pleasure, Abby. See you next week when we get back to school.’

Once Jack Spencer had settled his niece in the Jeep he turned to Kate. ‘My thanks again, Miss Dysart. My mother’s been in a state all the way down the motorway, anxious about both her girls. Not,’ he added, ‘that it was necessary with Abby. She obviously had a great time here with you.’

‘As much as she could do in the circumstances.’ Kate smiled at him. ‘I wonder if I could ask a favour?’

‘Anything at all.’

‘Will you let me know when the baby arrives?’

He grinned. ‘Right—though you won’t thank me for waking you up in the small hours. I’ll ring in the morning. Always supposing the new arrival’s made it by that time.’

‘Heavens, I hope so,’ said Kate with feeling. ‘For everyone’s sake.’

He eyed her curiously. ‘You’re very young to be a teacher, Miss Dysart. Is this your first year in the job?’

She chuckled. ‘No, indeed. Not by a long way.’

‘Then you must be older than you look.’ He cast a glance at the small face pressed to a window, watching them. ‘Time to go. Goodnight. And thank you again.’

Kate went back in the house in a thoughtful mood. Abby’s ‘Uncle Jack’ might not fit her preconceived idea of him exactly; he was older by far for a start. But he looked capable of carrying hods and laying bricks with the best of them.

The phone rang yet again later, when Kate was getting ready for bed, and she snatched it up eagerly. ‘Oh—it’s you, Alasdair.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ he said wryly. ‘You were obviously expecting someone else.’

‘I was.’

‘Has your little visitor gone now?’

‘Collected by her uncle an hour ago. I was just on my way to bed.’

‘Already?’

‘I had a busy day, as we teachers do, followed by an evening trying to entertain a little girl desperately anxious about her mother.’ She made no attempt to smother a yawn.

‘I’m obviously keeping you, so I’ll make it brief. What should I buy young Dysart for a christening present?’

‘You don’t have to buy anything. I’m sure Adam doesn’t expect it.’

‘You’re to be godmother, he tells me. So what have you bought?’

‘I’ve asked Adam to keep his eye out for a claret jug.’ Kate waited, sure that Alasdair had quite different reasons for the phone call.

‘It struck me afterwards,’ he went on, ‘that I could have doubled back to see you later this evening when you were free.’

Did it really? ‘It wouldn’t have been convenient, Alasdair. Besides,’ she added frostily, ‘I’m told I’ll be seeing you on Sunday anyway.’

‘Ah. You don’t approve.’ The deep voice, with it’s hint of Edinburgh accent, was timber-dry.

‘It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘But if you don’t want me there, Kate—’

‘Why on earth shouldn’t I? We can have a nice chat about old times,’ she said sweetly.

‘I’d hoped to do that tonight.’ He paused. ‘I’m back in the UK for good, by the way. Promotion.’

Kate digested this in silence for a moment, then shrugged, unseen. Whether Alasdair lived in Britain, America, or on the moon, made no difference to her any more.

‘Congratulations,’ she said eventually. ‘Discovered a new wonder drug?’

‘Something like that. I’ll fill you in when we meet.’

‘Alasdair, I should have asked this sooner. Whose funeral was it?’

‘My grandmother’s.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Thank you. I’ll miss her.’ He paused. ‘Kate, can we meet tomorrow?’

‘No can do. I’m driving home after lunch. Goodnight, Alasdair, I’ll see you on Sunday—’

‘Don’t ring off,’ he said, in a tone which put her on her guard. ‘If I wait until Sunday I probably won’t get you alone. And after seeing you again, Kate I’m more determined than ever to solve the mystery.’

‘What mystery?’ Though she knew well enough.

‘Oh, come on—you know what I’m getting at. You were the most brilliant physics student of your year at Cambridge, Katherine Dysart. What in hell happened to make you waste your talents on a village school in the back of beyond?’

CHAPTER TWO

KATE held on to her temper with difficulty. ‘Look, Alasdair, we went through this last time we met, and the answer’s still the same. I don’t consider it a waste. I’m a good teacher, and I get damned good results with my pupils. Nor,’ she added fiercely, ‘do I look on Foychurch as the back of beyond. It’s a friendly, thriving village community. Which suits me down to the ground. I’m a country girl born and bred, remember?’

‘I do remember. But that doesn’t answer my question, Kate. It was common knowledge that your tutor thought he had another Madame Curie in the making,’ Alasdair reminded her.

‘Then he was sadly mistaken,’ she snapped. ‘And now we’ve cleared that up, I’ll say goodnight.’

‘Kate, listen—’

‘Alasdair, I don’t want to listen. I’m tired. Goodnight.’

Kate liked to sleep with the curtains drawn back, and, in bed at last, she stared for a long time at the dense blackness of the country night sky, restless and wakeful after Alasdair Drummond’s probing.

Her older sisters, Leonie and Jess, had early possessed the self-confidence that matched their looks. So had Adam, their brother. But Kate, younger by several years and far less extrovert, had compensated for lack of confidence with a highly developed work ethos, coupled with a brain that had won her a place at Trinity College, Cambridge, to read Physics.

And there she had met Alasdair Drummond, a veteran of four years at Edinburgh University, and a year at Harvard, and, by the time she’d met him, engaged in research at Trinity. To her incredulous delight, after running into her on her first day Alasdair had taken Kate under his wing, a process which had boosted both her self-confidence and her appearance so rapidly she’d soon been besieged by so many of her male peers she’d been dumbfounded by all the attention. And hadn’t cared a bit for any of it, because she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Alasdair Drummond the moment they’d met.

Kate, too intelligent to deceive herself, had known from the start that the passion was one-sided. Alasdair, five years older in age and a lot more than that in experience, had made it plain he was fond of her, and had taken it on himself to protect her from male predators. But she’d had no illusions about his feelings for her. He had treated her like a kid sister, never as a potential lover. Trying hard to be content with the relationship, she’d cheered him on at rugby matches, felt passionately grateful when he’d taken her with him for a drink afterwards, and preened in secret because it had been taken for granted that they were a couple. But the nearest thing to physical contact with Alasdair had been an occasional—and brotherly—peck on the cheek.

Madly in love for the first time, Kate had eventually grown so frustrated her work had inevitably begun to suffer. Then suddenly, just before Alasdair had been due to leave Cambridge for his first job, she’d locked herself away in her room with only her books for company, pleading pressure of work. She’d refused to socialise with anyone, a mystified Alasdair Drummond included. And, though he’d left to work for an international pharmaceutical company soon afterwards, he’d made a habit of contacting Kate occasionally afterwards to check on her progress.

Then Alasdair’s job had taken him to the States, and communication between them had become rare. But, while visiting his grandparents in Gloucester on a trip to the UK, he had made time for a memorable visit to her home just before Kate started in her first teaching post. In response to his bluntly expressed disapproval of her choice of career she’d lost her temper completely, told him that what she did with her life was her own affair, not his, ended by ordering him out of the house, and had heard no more from him since—until his reappearance today outside school.

Alasdair Drummond, the brilliant research chemist Kate had known in the past, had risen with meteoric speed in his career; she knew only too well. And the combination of success and maturity, she thought irritably, was probably a terrific turn-on for most women. But not for her.

Kate’s phone woke her on the stroke of seven next morning, and she shot up in bed to grab it, breathless as she answered.

‘I obviously woke you up, Miss Dysart,’ said Jack Spencer with remorse. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she assured him. ‘Any news?’

‘John Spencer Cartwright arrived a few hours ago, yelling his head off and complete with a full set of everything. My sister’s in reasonably good shape, apparently—unlike Tim, who’s a gibbering wreck.’

Kate chuckled. ‘Thanks for letting me know. How’s Abby?’

‘On cloud nine because her mother talked to her on the phone the moment she could. Tim passed on your message, so Jules made very sure her special girl knew Mummy loved her to bits.’ Jack Spencer added, ‘My sister’s deeply grateful to you. On all counts.’

‘Only too glad to help.’

‘Miss Dysart, Abby tells me you’re going home for half-term?’

‘That’s right.’

‘When are you leaving?’

‘After lunch. I don’t have far to go. I’ll be home in time for tea.’

‘May I ask where “home” is?’

‘Stavely. About twenty miles from Pennington.’

‘I know it well. Great part of the world. Enjoy your holiday.’

‘I will. Thank you for ringing, Mr Spencer.’

Kate dressed, went downstairs to make breakfast, and afterwards tidied up the cottage. She packed her bags, then went next door to tell Mr Reith, her elderly neighbour, that she would be away for the week, checked that he still had her spare key, then accepted his offer of a cup of coffee and stayed chatting to him for half an hour.

Later, when she was setting time switches to turn her lights on after dark, Kate answered a rap on her front door to find a smiling Jack Spencer, in faded jeans and battered leather flying jacket, holding out an enormous sheaf of early spring flowers.

‘Good morning, Miss Dysart. These are by way of thanks.’

‘How—how very kind,’ said Kate, taken aback. ‘Please come in.’

‘I’m not holding you up?’

‘Not at all. Do sit down. Coffee?’

Jack Spencer shook his head regretfully and perched on the cushioned window seat. ‘No, thanks. I’m taking Abby and my parents out to lunch shortly, while Tim gets some sleep. Then we’re off to the hospital to meet the heir apparent.’

Kate chuckled. ‘I bet Abby can hardly wait.’

‘My mother likewise,’ he assured her, keen blue eyes trained on her face. ‘You look different this morning, Miss Dysart.’

‘More like a teacher now my hair’s tidy, you mean?’

‘I suppose I do. Pity to hide those curls away like that—’ He flung up a hand. ‘Too personal. Sorry.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘I’m way past the age of letting my hair hang down my back.’

‘If you say so.’ He grinned. ‘Last night you looked like a schoolgirl.’

‘It’s a long time since I was, but thanks just the same, Mr Spencer.’

‘Call me Jack.’

Kate shook her head. ‘Not appropriate.’

‘Because you’re Abby’s teacher?’

She nodded. ‘The Head prides himself on knowing parents by their first names, but, along with the rest of the staff, I stick to Mr and Mrs.’

‘But I’m not a parent,’ he pointed out. ‘Uncles don’t count.’

Aware that she was still clutching the vast bouquet, bridal fashion, Kate set it down on a table. ‘Please thank Mr and Mrs Cartwright for these, Mr Spencer.’

‘Actually, the flowers are from me—Miss Dysart.’ His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

‘Then thank you,’ she said, surprised. ‘How kind of you to go out of your way to bring them.’

‘I came because I wanted to see you again,’ he said simply, and stood up. ‘I must be off.’

A rather bemused Kate went to the door to open it. ‘Goodbye, Mr Spencer.’

‘One day I’ll get you to call me Jack,’ he promised, and strode down the path to his mud-splattered Cherokee, which now had company. A dark blue Maserati was parked behind it.

Kate stared as she saw Alasdair exchange a brief, unsmiling nod with Jack Spencer, who gave her a wink and a conspiratorial grin before he drove off.

Kate stood in her doorway with arms folded, her face expressionless as she watched Alasdair Drummond open her small wicket gate and stroll up the path towards her. His shoulders were less massive than Jack Spencer’s, but he was half a head taller, and, though he wore jeans as vintage as her previous visitor’s, it was their only point in common. Alasdair wore polished loafers with a transatlantic air to them, his casual polo shirt was white, and his sweater a shade of almost-pink a less masculine man would have found hard to carry off. The general effect, she thought with amusement, was the acme of elegance compared with her previous visitor.

But this time, without yesterday’s shock clouding her vision, Kate was able to look at Alasdair more objectively. His brown hair, once worn close-cropped, was now long enough to curl a little, and his face was leaner than Kate remembered. But the steel-grey eyes were as searching as ever.

‘Hello again, Kate,’ he said, his smile wary.

‘I didn’t expect to see you today, Alasdair.’ She backed out of reach as he leaned down towards her. ‘Don’t tell me—you were just passing?’

He straightened, his eyes irritatingly indulgent. ‘No. I drove here specifically to see you. I thought we could have lunch somewhere before you take off for Stavely.’

‘Sorry. I’ve had lunch—’

‘With the guy I saw leaving just now?’

Leaving him to draw his own conclusion, Kate motioned him inside the cottage, cautioning him to stoop as he went in. ‘Since you’ve driven so far I’ll make some coffee.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I needn’t leave for half an hour or so.’

‘Thank you for sparing the time,’ said Alasdair wryly, staring at the huge mass of blooms. ‘Impressive little tribute. If I’d come bearing flowers would my welcome have been warmer?’

‘Have I been rude?’ said Kate, unmoved. ‘Sorry, Alasdair.’

‘I’m very conscious,’ he said, the flavour of Edinburgh very distinct in his voice, ‘that I’ve intruded.’

‘Of course you haven’t,’ said Kate lightly. ‘I’ll just make that coffee.’

‘Can I help?’

‘No. Just sit down. You make my house look small.’

‘It is small. Doll-size, like its owner.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You haven’t grown since I saw you last, Kate.’

‘Not in inches. But in maturity just a little, I hope.’ Pleased with her exit line, she left him alone.

Alasdair shook his head when she came back with sugar and milk on the coffee tray. ‘I drink mine black, remember? You should do; you made it often enough for me at one time.’

‘I’d forgotten,’ said Kate, rather pleased to find this was the truth. At one time she’d tried so hard to forget everything about Alasdair Drummond, and in minor ways, at least, it seemed she’d succeeded.

Like her other visitor, Alasdair took the window seat, his endless legs stretched out in front of him as he looked round at the small room, which was given an illusion of space by an inglenook fireplace and Kate’s knack of keeping the curtains drawn back on the walls to expose the entire window.

‘Do you light that every day?’ he asked, indicating the log fire laid ready.

‘No. Only on winter weekends, when I have time to clear it up in the mornings afterwards.’ Kate perched on the edge of a chair she normally never used, hoping its bronze velvet looked good with her yellow sweater.

Alasdair drank some of his coffee, regarding her steadily over the rim of his mug. ‘The man I saw leaving just now—is he important, Kate?’

‘Yes,’ she said without hesitation. It wasn’t a total lie. Jack Spencer was important—to his niece, his mother, his sister, and probably to several more women besides. Maybe a wife, for all she knew. It wouldn’t hurt Alasdair to think he was important to Kate Dysart, too. ‘How about you, Alasdair? You must have someone important in your life?’

He shook his head. ‘Not any more. I shared an apartment with a lady until recently, but that’s over now.’

‘Why?’

‘I suppose you could say she dumped me. Amy liked her New York lifestyle too much to try life in the UK with me.’

Which was enlightening.

‘Too bad,’ said Kate coolly. ‘Where will you be based?’

‘Near enough to commute. For the time being, at least.’

‘Where from?’

‘Gloucester. My grandmother left the house to me.’ He finished his coffee and stood up. ‘I’ve held you up long enough.’

Kate went with him to the door. ‘Sorry about lunch.’

‘Maybe I’ll be luckier tomorrow.’ He gave her a wry, assessing look. ‘In fact, Miss Dysart, I’m likely to get a far warmer welcome from your family than I have from you.’ When she showed no sign of penitence Alasdair’s jaw tightened. ‘The man I saw leaving just now—is he coming on Sunday?’

‘No. My family don’t know about him yet.’ Which was true enough. ‘Thanks for coming, Alasdair. See you in church.’

He took her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. ‘Cool reception or not, it’s good to see you, Kate.’

She returned the look head-on, doggedly ignoring her body’s reaction to his touch. ‘It’s good to see you, too, Alasdair.’

‘I’d prefer a touch more enthusiasm!’ He stooped to kiss her cheek, paused for an instant, then kissed her again, his mouth hard and hot on hers. ‘See you tomorrow, Kate.’

She shut the door after he’d gone and sat down with a thump, needing time to get herself together. How she’d longed for him to kiss her at one time. And in some ways it had been worth waiting for. Alasdair was as good at kissing as he was at everything else. Kate gave a sudden gurgle of laughter. Normally her only Saturday morning encounters were with the postman and old Mr Reith next door. This morning had been in a different league altogether. Jack, as he wanted her to call him, was something new in her experience of men. Not a rough diamond, by any means, but compared with expensively educated Alasdair he was no smooth sophisticate either. Nevertheless, Jack Spencer’s in-your-face directness was refreshing. He’d made it flatteringly plain he found her appealing.

Kate felt a surge of triumph as she took her bags out to the car. From the way Alasdair had kissed her just now, it seemed that these days he found her appealing too. For all the good it would do him.

The windows of Friars Wood, the home of four generations of Dysarts, gleamed in welcome in the pale February sunlight when Kate parked under the chestnut tree at the end of the terrace. The garden was in transition time, waking up from winter to spring, with cushions of snowdrops, clumps of daffodils about to burst into bloom, mauve heather flanked by creamy yellow primroses and purple crocus, and Kate went slowly up the steps, viewing it all with her usual sense of home-coming. Then her eyes lit up as the door to Friars Wood flew open and revealed her tall brother, grinning broadly as he held up the small bundle in his arms.

‘You’re late, Auntie. Wake up, Son,’ Adam instructed his baby. ‘Time to meet your godmother.’ He swept Kate into a hug with his free arm, and gave her a kiss. ‘Hi, half-pint. Want to hold him?’

‘Of course I want to hold him!’ She dumped down her holdall and held out her arms for her tiny godson. ‘Hello, little nephew,’ she said softly, smiling down into unfocused blue eyes. ‘Oh, thank goodness; you take after your mother.’

‘He does not,’ said Adam indignantly. ‘He looks like me.’

Kate eyed his black curly hair and dark eyes in amusement. ‘Apart from blue eyes and a wisp of hair as fair as Gabriel’s, he’s the spitting image,’ she mocked, then turned with a smile as her mother came hurrying along the hall from the kitchen.

‘Darling,’ said Frances, arms outstretched. ‘I didn’t hear the bell.’

‘It didn’t ring; I was watching from the window,’ said Adam, relieving Kate of his son.

Kate hugged her mother, then grinned as Gabriel Dysart dashed in through the front door. ‘Hi, how are you Mumsy?’

‘Very pleased with myself,’ said Adam’s wife, hugging her in turn, and waved a hand at her son. ‘Just look at him, Kate. Wasn’t I clever?’

‘You couldn’t have done it without me,’ Adam reminded her.

‘True,’ said Gabriel, laughing, ‘But I did the lion’s share.’

Kate went into the kitchen with the others, to be given tea and cake and all the latest news of the family. Shortly afterwards her father came in from walking the dog, and Adam fended off the excited retriever while Tom Dysart held his daughter close and demanded all the latest news from Foychurch. Kate sat patting Pan’s golden head while she regaled the family with the events of the night before, then sent Adam out to her car to fetch the flowers and explained that her pupil’s uncle had given them to her by way of thanks.

‘Goodness, how extravagant,’ said Frances Dysart when she saw them. ‘Enough to make two arrangements for tomorrow, Kate. I’ve done the church, but I hadn’t got round to the house yet. You don’t mind if we use them, darling?’

‘Of course not. That’s why I brought them home.’

‘I hear you refused Alasdair’s invitation to dinner, by the way,’ accused Adam.

Kate wrinkled her nose at him. ‘I had other commitments.’

Her brother eyed her warily. ‘You know I’ve invited him to the christening on Sunday?’

‘Yes. Though I can’t imagine why.’

Adam shrugged. ‘When he put some of his grandmother’s furniture into auction at Dysart’s he stood me lunch at the Chesterton. I asked him if he’d like to come, and he accepted like a shot. I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘He means well,’ said Gabriel indulgently, smiling over her son’s head.

Kate nodded, resigned. ‘I know. And that’s quite enough about Alasdair Drummond. Give me the important news. Who else is coming?’

‘Leo and Jonah, of course,’ said Frances, ‘but without the children for once. Jonah’s parents are taking them to Paris to Disneyland this weekend.’

‘Greater love hath no grandparents,’ said Tom piously.

‘How about Jess?’

‘Not this time,’ said Frances, filling teacups. She smiled at Kate. ‘She confirmed last night that she’s pregnant again.’

‘And Lorenzo’s keeping her wrapped in cotton wool!’ Kate grinned, looked at the downy head cradled close to Gabriel’s breast, intercepted the tender look Adam gave his wife and felt a fleeting pang of envy. But dismissed it. The increasing number of her siblings’ progeny was quite high enough without adding to it herself.

‘How about Fenny?’ she asked. ‘Is she going to make it?’

‘Someone’s driving her down this evening, apparently,’ said Tom, shaking his head. ‘She won’t take her car to college.’

‘Because there’s always some clown on hand ready to ferry her wherever she wants to go,’ said Adam, grinning.

‘More than one,’ said Gabriel. ‘And she doesn’t care a fig for any of them. Just good friends, she says.’

‘At her age,’ Frances said thankfully, “‘just good friends” sounds very comforting to me.’

Soon afterwards Adam and Gabriel took their son off to the Stables for his bath and supper, promising to return with him later for dinner.

‘Though whether Fenny will be home in time to share it is uncertain,’ said Frances, chuckling. ‘But she’ll ring at some stage. Fen tries not to worry me too much.’

‘Your ewe lamb,’ teased Tom.

‘Come over with us, Kate,’ said Adam. ‘I’ll show you the jug I found for you.’

She looked at her mother. ‘Unless there’s anything I can do to help?’

‘No, darling. It’s a very simple meal tonight.’

Adam took charge of the buggy as the three of them walked briskly to hurry the baby into the warmth of the stable block which had been Adam’s private quarters since his eighteenth birthday.

‘I’ll look on while you do the hard part,’ Kate told Gabriel. ‘Or is Daddy going to do bathtime?’

‘We share the process unless I’m late home,’ said Adam as they went upstairs. ‘Actually, I wanted a word on the quiet, Kate,’ he added, cuddling his son while Gabriel filled the baby bath. ‘I take it you weren’t too pleased to see Alasdair?’

‘Not at first.’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘Nor with you, either. You might have warned me! After all this time it was a bit of a shock to find him waiting for me outside school, of all places.’

‘He wanted to surprise you.’

‘I’ve never met this Alasdair, of course,’ said Gabriel, undressing her squirming baby, ‘but I gather he’s done well for himself.’

‘Unlike me, he’s done what everyone expected of him. And now he’s here to run the UK operation of the pharmaceutical giant who head-hunted him from Cambridge,’ said Kate. ‘Gosh, the baby does wriggle, doesn’t he?’

‘Terrified me the first time,’ agreed Adam, and hooked his hands under his kicking son’s armpits while Gabriel did the sponging—a process Hal objected to at the top of his voice.

‘Pass him over quickly,’ begged Gabriel, and hastily wrapped her son in a warm towel to cuddle him. ‘Dash down and get his bottle, darling, please.’

‘You’re not feeding him yourself, then?’ said Kate, mopping up splashes.

‘No. Not that I’m sorry. This way we can share the night-time feeds. At least that’s the theory,’ added Gabriel, chuckling. ‘But I wake up anyway.’

‘I bet Adam doesn’t when it’s your turn!’ Kate watched while her nephew was fastened into a stretchy sleepsuit. ‘Do you enjoy motherhood, Gabriel?’

Her sister-in-law turned with a smile, cradling her restless son against her shoulder. ‘Just between you and me, Kate, I hadn’t thought to go in for it quite yet, but now he’s here I wouldn’t give him back.’

‘Neither would I,’ said Adam, as he joined them. ‘We never get enough sleep any more, but this, we’re assured, will improve with time.’ He kissed his wife as he handed over the bottle of formula. ‘We’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.’

When Adam unwrapped the silver-mounted crystal jug he’d found on his travels Kate stroked it with pleasure.

‘Perfect. But how much would you have got at auction for a beauty like this?’

‘Irrelevant. You can have it for the money I gave for it,’ he assured her. ‘But look, if you can’t afford it—’

‘I most definitely can. I’ve been saving up ever since Gabriel told me she was pregnant.’ Kate smiled. ‘I rather took it for granted you’d ask me to be godmother.’

‘You knew I would,’ he said gruffly, and gave her a searching look. ‘Now we’re on our own, is everything all right with you, Kate?’

‘Always the same old question,’ she said, resigned. ‘And it’s always the same old answer, Adam. Contrary to some people’s belief, I like my life and I love my job.’

“‘Some people” meaning Alasdair?’

‘Who else? Due to my famed qualifications he thinks I’m mad to teach at a village school.’ Kate shot him a look. ‘Do you still agree with him?’

‘Of course not. Like everyone else, I was a bit surprised at first, but it’s very obviously what you want to do, so I’m happy for you.’

‘You don’t mind that I’m never likely to win the Nobel prize, then?’

‘No way.’ Adam smiled crookedly. ‘In fact, I’d rather you met some guy who’ll make you as happy as I am with Gabriel.’

‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Kate warned him, laughing. ‘If I do feel the need for a male presence in my life one day I’ll get a dog like Pan.’

Adam chuckled. ‘Tell me when and I’ll buy you one.’ He eyed her curiously. ‘Now he’s back in this country, will you be seeing Alasdair more often?’

Kate shook her head. ‘I doubt it. I live in deepest Herefordshire, and Alasdair intends living in the Gloucester house his grandmother left him. It’s not exactly next door.’

‘Near enough for him to come calling round twice in two days,’ he reminded her.

Kate’s mouth compressed. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t make a habit of it.’

‘Is there someone else, then?’

She shrugged impatiently. ‘You know perfectly well I see Toby Anderson and Phil Dent when I’m home.’

Adam rolled his eyes. ‘The accountant and the sports master. Wild passionate affairs both, of course.’

‘How do you know what they’re like?’ said Kate indignantly.

‘Because you go out with both of them. I can’t see you leaping in and out of bed with two blokes, turn and turn about!’

Kate gave him a shove, laughing. ‘Not everyone wants wild, passionate affairs.’

‘How about marriage, then?’

‘One day, maybe,’ she said lightly. ‘At the moment I’m happy with my role of maiden aunt to the Dysart young.’

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