The Firebrand Who Unlocked His Heart

‘What can you tell me about Harry’s treatment and progress to date?’ she asked.

Sister Lipton took her through a detailed summary of Harry’s medical treatment. ‘As far as we can tell, there is no reason why Harry shouldn’t make a good recovery over time. There appears to be no lasting damage to his brain. In fact, we’re a little surprised that he hasn’t progressed quicker. He seems to understand simple instructions, but we’d really be expecting him to be saying more than the odd word by now. He also has some movement, but not as much as we would expect at this stage.’

‘We both know that patients even with apparently identical injuries can progress at different rates. No brain injury is exactly the same,’ Colleen said. ‘I’ve seen many cases, as I’m sure you have, where recovery is sudden and dramatic. Perhaps this will be the pattern for Harry?’

No doubt Sister Lipton was an excellent nurse but the way she had spoken about Daniel had made Colleen’s blood boil. Just like patients, relatives were different when it came to how they dealt with their loved ones’ injuries. Perhaps Lipton was the kind of nurse who expected the relatives to treat her with deference. Frankly Colleen preferred the relatives who made it their business to be involved with their child’s care. And despite Daniel’s high-handedness, she was sure he only wanted the best for his child.

When Colleen had finished speaking to Sister Lipton, she went along to see Harry.

With the blinds drawn, she could barely make out the frail figure lying on the bed in a tangle of sheets. An older woman in a nurse’s uniform was checking Harry’s blood pressure while Daniel stood looking out of the window.

Careful not to make any sudden noise, Colleen approached the young boy and her heart constricted. Even in sleep, Harry’s forehead was creased in a frown. His legs and arms twitched, as if he was being chased by the hounds of hell. Poor mite.

As if sensing her presence, Harry’s eyes slowly opened and stared right at her. His eyes were the same startling green as his father’s, but where Daniel’s were sharp and focused, Harry’s were clouded with confusion.

‘Hi, Harry,’ Colleen said softly, ‘My name is Colleen. I’m a nurse and I look after people who have hurt their heads.’

Harry’s eyes shifted from Colleen to Daniel and back again.

Keeping her voice as soothing as possible, Colleen continued. ‘May I sit down on your bed, Harry? That’s great. There’s no need to be scared, I’m here because your dad asked me to come and meet you. He loves you very much.’

Mutely, Harry continued to stare at her.

‘Harry, I want to hold your hands—is that okay?’ She slipped her fingers round his. They felt stiff and cold. ‘That’s excellent, Harry. Now squeeze as tight as you can, sweetheart. Squeeze as if I’ve just pinched your MP3 player and all your favourite tunes.’

The minutes passed and still Harry continued to stare at her. Colleen willed him with every fibre of her being to respond. Please, Harry, come on, you can do it, darling. Squeeze, squeeze.

She hadn’t realised she’d been holding her breath until she felt the slightest of pressure from Harry’s fingers. His eyes locked on hers, only for a moment, but long enough for her to see the fear in his eyes. She held the boy’s hand until he relaxed and the fear gradually receded. She already knew there was no way she could walk away from this child.

‘That’s excellent, Harry. Well done. We’re going to be great pals, I just know it. In a few days we’re going to take you home with us.’

Harry’s eyes shifted until he was looking over Colleen’s shoulders. She was aware that Daniel had come to stand behind her.

‘Go!’ Harry said clearly.

‘What is it, Harry? Do you want me to go?’ Colleen asked.

With an enormous effort Harry raised his hand until he was pointing at Daniel. It was obvious that he wanted his father to leave the room.

Colleen turned around. Daniel looked shaken. ‘Why don’t you wait for us outside?’ she said.

Daniel hesitated. ‘Go on,’ Colleen said. ‘I’ll only be a moment.’

When Daniel left she turned to face Harry again.

‘What is it, Harry? Don’t you want to go home and be with your father? I’ll be there, too.’

Harry looked at her. A tear slipped from his eye and Colleen brushed it away.

‘Mum,’ he said. ‘Want Mum.’

‘Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry your mum isn’t here. But your dad wants you at home with him. Together we’re going to do everything we can to make you better. You can speak a little now, so there’s no reason your speech won’t come on. And you can move your arm, so with a bit of work we should be able to get much more movement back. It’ll mean hard work, but your dad and I will be there to help you every step of the way. C’mon, what do you say? Shall we give it a go?’

Green eyes studied her for a moment. ‘‘kay,’ Harry said finally, before turning away and closing his eyes.

Outside Daniel was pacing up and down, looking as if he wanted to find something to kick.

‘Maybe he should stay here,’ he said. ‘He clearly doesn’t feel comfortable with me.’ It was the first time Colleen had seen Daniel look anything less than certain and her heart went out to him.

‘The brain injury could be causing confusion, or it could be that he simply doesn’t recognise you. Patients with head injuries often suffer from memory loss on and off for quite some time. When we get him home and he has his familiar belongings around him, I’m sure he’ll settle down.’

A look of relief crossed Daniel’s face. ‘You said “we”. Does that mean you’ll take the job?’

‘It does. I think I can help.’

Daniel pulled a hand through his hair and studied her. It was a few minutes before he spoke. ‘At least I got one thing right. I found you. Thank you for agreeing to stay. Harry needs you.’

And something tells me you do, too, boyo.

‘Okay,’ she said, ‘let’s make plans to get your son home.’

CHAPTER FOUR

COLLEEN had flown home later that day on Daniel’s plane. Moving to London for what could be months necessitated more than the few belongings she’d packed. And if Harry was to be discharged on Tuesday she needed to be back in London tomorrow evening at the latest. Daniel had offered to send someone to her flat to pack her things for her, but she’d refused. No one was going to trawl through her cupboards except her. After she’d packed and cleared out her fridge, she had phoned Ciaran to let him know what she’d decided. He’d been disappointingly blasé about the fact he wouldn’t see her for a few weeks.

She was being daft, of course she was. Ciaran loved her. Just because he didn’t create fireworks because he might not see her very often over the next few months was no reason to feel a little … disappointed? Deflated? Unappreciated?

Relieved?

If anything, the last twenty-four hours had deepened the feeling of unease she felt whenever she thought about her impending marriage.

As before, she flew back to London on Daniel’s private plane. Her third flight in less than two days. She could get used to this way of travelling. No endless queueing for her bags to be checked, or to go through security or to have her passport examined. Everything happened as if by magic. As soon as she stepped into the arrivals’ hall, Daniel’s driver was waiting to take her suitcase, his car right outside, so she barely had to walk.

Colleen reached for the car door before the chauffeur had a chance to open it for her. She looked up at him and smiled. ‘I’ll lose the use of my own arms if I don’t use them.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘Oh, no. None of that madam stuff. Please call me Colleen.’

‘Yes, madam.’

Oh dear.

Suddenly the driver grinned and held out his hand. ‘I’m Mike.’

She shook it, feeling relieved. Much more of that madamising malarkey and she would have gone crazy.

They had driven through London before coming to a halt in front of large wrought-iron gates that swung open as if sensing their arrival.

Once again, Colleen got to the door before Mike could do it for her.

‘I don’t suppose I can carry my own bags?’ she said to him.

‘No need. They’ll be taken up to your room and unpacked for you,’ Mike replied, taking her embarrassingly bedraggled-looking bags from the boot.

Colleen looked up at the most enormous mansion she’d ever seen. It was like something out of Country House Rescue, except she had no doubt that there would be no crumbling plasterwork or peeling paint in Daniel Frobisher’s palace. Hooking her handbag over her shoulder, she skipped up the sweep of steps. As if by magic, the huge front door swung open, revealing a man in his early fifties, wearing the same black suit, white shirt and tie as the uniform of the chauffeur.

‘Welcome to Carrington Hall, Miss McCulloch.’

Colleen held her hand out. ‘Mr Haversham, I presume?’

The man couldn’t have looked more shocked had she attacked him with a deadly weapon. Colleen let her hand drop.

‘Mr Haversham is Mr Frobisher’s personal assistant. I’m Burton, Mr Frobisher’s butler.’

Did people really still have butlers? This felt more and more like she was in a period costume drama.

‘Please call me, Colleen. Don’t you have a first name, Mr Burton?’

‘Just Burton, miss. Please follow me,’ the butler said, taking her bags from Mike. ‘Mr Frobisher sends his apologies. I am to tell you that he is unable to welcome you personally, but unfortunately he has pressing business to attend to. He says he’ll see you at dinner.’

Colleen hid her dismay. Daniel had made all that effort to get her here in the first place, but couldn’t spare the time to greet her! If he truly cared about Harry, shouldn’t his son and not a business deal be his first priority? The sympathy she’d been feeling towards him faded. If he thought he could hand Harry over to her and leave it at that, he’d made a mistake. She was here to help him care for his son and Daniel’s involvement was absolutely critical. She had to make that clear and the sooner the better.

‘He had pressing business, did he? Well, I would like you to get Mr Frobisher on the telephone and let him know that his presence is needed here.’

Burton raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Mr Frobisher does not care to be interrupted when he’s working.’ Was she mistaken or did Burton shudder slightly, as if remembering a time when he had made the mistake of interrupting his boss? Well, she wouldn’t be so easily intimidated.

‘If you could let me have his telephone number, then I’ll call him myself.’ Colleen scrambled around in her bag for her phone, eventually finding it caught up in some sweet papers. One day she would have to find the time to give her bag a good clear-out. She waved her mobile at Burton. ‘Number, please?’

This time, the penguin-suited man did shudder. And folded his arms. And looked at her with unmistakable resolve. ‘As I said, Mr Frobisher will see you at dinner. In the meantime, maybe you’d like to see your room?’ He looked at her and his lip curled. ‘And freshen up. Perhaps change?’

The cheek. There was nothing wrong with her freshly washed jeans and T-shirt. She was here to work—not look like something from a catwalk.

‘I’d rather go straight to Harry’s room to make sure everything’s in order,’ Colleen said stiffly. She’d only been here ten minutes and already she was wondering what she’d let herself in for. ‘That’s why I’m here. I understand from what Mr Frobisher said that his son will be coming home the day after tomorrow. I’m sure there is a fair bit to organise before then.’

Burton jumped back, startled, as she swept past him. The marbled hall with its high-vaulted ceilings and imposing staircase took Colleen’s breath away. This was more like the entrance to a private hotel than a house. But despite the grandeur, it wasn’t a place she would call home. It was too dark and gloomy with its wooden panelled walls and deep-green wallpaper.

‘But, miss, Mr Frobisher insisted …’

‘Mmm … well, see, here’s the thing.’ Colleen waved a finger in the air. ‘I’m here for Harry. Everyone—and I mean everyone—is second in importance to that. So, which way to Harry’s room?’

‘If you wait here, miss, I’ll just get Mr Frobisher for you. He’s working from home today,’ Burton replied, regaining his composure.

So Daniel wasn’t even at work? He was here all the time, yet couldn’t be bothered to make the time to greet her. If possible, she felt even more uneasy. None of this matched the little she knew of Daniel. In Dublin and at the hospital, she hadn’t doubted for a second that he cared about his son.

She heard Daniel’s footsteps on the marbled floor before she saw him. Somehow she’d expected him to be suited and booted again, not wearing faded denim jeans and an open-necked pearl-grey shirt. His dark hair was kind of mussy, as if he’d been pulling his hands through it, and he had the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. It made him look more approachable and really quite sexy in an uptight British way.

‘Colleen, welcome. Did you have a good flight?’ he asked, with only the briefest of smiles.

‘Everything about my trip was great, thanks,’ Colleen replied, coolly.

‘I gather you wish to speak to me. What is so important that it can’t wait?’

‘I’d like to see Harry’s room, but Mr Burton appears reluctant to show it to me. He seems to want to pack me off to my room so I can change. I tried to tell him that I don’t need to rest or change or freshen up, or whatever it is that he seems to think I need to do, but he’s not having it. I’m not in the least bit tired, I’m almost as clean as I was when I showered this morning and I want to see Harry’s room. Is that a problem?’

A smile, more genuine this time, crossed Daniel’s face.

‘Of course not. Burton was just following instructions. Guests normally like to settle in to their rooms when they arrive.’

‘But I’m not a guest, sure I’m not.’

Something glinted in Daniel’s eyes. If she didn’t know better, she would have sworn it was laughter. He regarded her calmly without saying anything. She already that knew that he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox. But if he thought his silence would make her back down meekly, he had another think coming.

‘Here’s the thing,’ she continued doggedly, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing, ‘I’m here to do the best job I can for Harry, but in order to do that—what I say goes. Do we understand each other?’ Colleen held her breath as she waited for Daniel to reply. Despite the instant connection she’d felt with Harry, she couldn’t work here unless she had free rein to do what she thought was best for him. She needed to make that absolutely clear from the start. Daniel studied her through narrowed eyes.

‘Perfectly. But let me make something clear, too. If, at any time, I feel you are not up to the job, I will find someone else.’

He was pinning her with that look again. Her heart was galloping like one of the horses in the field back home. Jeepers, life in this household wasn’t going to be easy.

‘Have you forgotten that you were the one who hounded me to take the job and not the other way round? But that’s fine by me, just as long as whatever happens, you don’t renege on your donation to the rehab unit.’

‘I never go back on my promises, Colleen.’ The words were quietly spoken, but held a thread of steel. ‘And something tells me you don’t either.’

Colleen just couldn’t make Daniel out. For two pins she’d insist on being taken back to Ireland. If it weren’t for the fact that Daniel was right—she never backed out of a promise. She’d told Harry she’d be here when he came home and she’d keep that promise.

‘Despite the way you went about securing my services, I’ve agreed to care for your son and I would never, ever let my—er—relationship …’ damn, that was the wrong word, but it was too late now to find a better one ‘… with a parent affect the way I treat a patient.’ And that was true. Even if she’d never felt like kicking someone before.

His smile was catlike. ‘At least we understand each other.’

Colleen let her breath out slowly, willing her heart rate to return to normal. ‘Okay, now that that’s out of the way, shall we get on?’

Daniel looked at his watch. ‘It’s okay, Burton, I can manage from here.’ He turned his gaze back to Colleen. She’d forgotten just how green those penetrating eyes of his were—even when he was frowning. ‘I can give you ten minutes. Follow me. Harry’s bedroom is on the second floor.’

Colleen remained silent for the rest of the way up the curving stairs and along the carpeted hallway lined with old-fashioned portraits of stuffy men in uniforms and aristocratic women in evening dresses. Daniel threw open the very last room at the end of the long corridor.

‘This is Harry’s room,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘I’ve installed a hospital bed as you can see. You’re in the suite next door.’

Colleen glanced round, taking in the bare walls and almost-empty shelves. An electric wheelchair stood in front of the unlit fireplace. She walked over to the bookshelf and tilted her head to the side, reading the titles along the spines: Great Expectations

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