Bittersweet Passion

Dane dealt her a sardonic smile. ‘Was that your Roller or someone else’s I saw at the cemetery? Good God, none of you are broke except Claire,’ he breathed contemptuously.

‘I shall continue now,’ Mr Coverdale cut in hurriedly before hostilities escalated afresh. ‘There is a small bequest and … an alternative. To my grandson Dane, I bequeath my Bible.’ A pindropping silence fell. ‘To James and Celia, nothing because …’ He hesitated fatally.

‘Nothing?’ Celia screeched incredulously. ‘Because of what?’

The solicitor breathed in like a man girding his loins. ‘Because during my lifetime I on several occasions advanced certain monies to my son James, which he did not repay although I did remind him of the debts …’

‘Come, James.’ Celia arose majestically. ‘Steven! We’re not staying here any longer.’

‘And in the event of my granddaughter Claire pursuing that relationship which I did not approve of and no marriage taking place with my grandson, my estate, is to be sold and the proceeds given to the Temperance Society.’

‘Who shall I serve first?’ Maisie asked as she noisily wheeled in the tea trolley.

Carter cleared his throat. ‘What relationship, Claire?’

She got up quickly. ‘I believe that’s my business, Carter. Please excuse me for a moment, Mr Coverdale,’ she murmured and followed her aunt and uncle’s sweeping departure to the hall.

Steve clasped her hand, his boyish face wreathed with embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean …’ he began awkwardly.

‘I didn’t take offence.’ She forced a smile because she liked him. Clearly Celia’s behaviour had mortified him. How often had Adam embarrassed her in front of others? Once too often today, she thought, going down the steps to speak to her aunt and uncle.

‘Oh, it’s not your fault,’ Celia was saying petulantly to her hen-pecked husband. ‘I hated him. He was a miserable, cantankerous old goat and I don’t care if he was your father, James! I never had a polite word from him.’

‘Won’t you stay to dinner?’ Claire pressed unhappily.

Celia spun on her diminutive niece. ‘You have to be joking,’ she said cuttingly. ‘I wish you joy with Carter. He’s an Adam in the making!’

Her uncle squeezed her hand apologetically. ‘She doesn’t mean it, you know. Carter’s a fine young man.’

She watched them depart and then found Mr Coverdale already hovering in the hall behind her. ‘I had finished, Miss Fletcher. If you have any queries, please don’t hesitate to call.’

‘He left nothing for the staff here?’ In her anxiety she double-checked.

‘Unfortunately not. I’m afraid my client was not of a benevolent disposition,’ he said heavily.

What an understatement! Still in shock, Claire glanced into the drawing-room where Carter and Sandra were in close confab. Dane was nowhere to be seen. She suspected him of taking refuge in the library. Striving to calm herself down, Claire went into the kitchen. But what on earth was she going to do?

Her grandfather had removed her from school at sixteen. She had no training for any career. She hadn’t even got to sit her O-levels. Maisie was sitting tiredly by the kitchen table. Claire looked away again, a terrible bitterness consuming her as she tasted the full portent of her grandfather’s selfishness. She did not have a penny of her own to give the Morleys. Would ceding them that pitiful cottage for the remainder of their lives have been such a sacrifice? How mightily self-satisfied he must have been after penning that will to explode upon all of them but Carter.

She dragged out the vegetable basket and piled potatoes into the sink. It was after five. She might as well start dinner early.

‘Here. I got it from my car.’ A liqueur glass landed on the edge of the draining board. Dane gave her a mocking smile. ‘You need a drink more than you need a cup of half-cold tea. Are you all set to celebrate your nuptials with Carter?’

His amusement struck her as cruel. Yes, in a sense Celia had spoken truly. Dane didn’t have a clue what it felt like to be a charity case or to be humiliated as she had been by that will. Her grandfather had literally proffered a bribe to Carter to marry her.

‘No.’

He lounged with indolent grace back against the old wooden cupboards. ‘Then you’re going to pursue the unsuitable relationship?’ he guessed. ‘You surprise me. I never thought you had the guts to rebel.’

Her cheeks flamed. ‘You’re very frank.’

He shrugged indifferently. ‘I came to tell you I’d give you a lift down to London if you want one, and I’ll fix you up with somewhere to stay,’ he offered casually. ‘Knowing Adam, you haven’t even got the price of your next meal.’

She lifted the potato peeler and resisted an urge to dig it into his lean, muscular ribcage. If only it were that easy. Her hopes had been dashed to smithereens. She had foolishly dared to dream and by doing so had tripled her own disappointment. When was she going to learn? The thought train verged too close to self-pity and she killed it stone dead. There would be no farm for Max, no home that she could finally call her own. Thanks to Adam, Max was on the dole queue, sacked without a reference because he had dared to offer her marriage and that hadn’t fitted in with Adam’s plans.

How could she go to Max now, penniless, with only a few shabby clothes to her name? What prospect did she even have of supporting herself? She had no qualifications, no marketable talent outside the domestic sphere. She would be a millstone round Max’s neck.

Yet for so long she had dreamt of making Max’s dream come true and sharing that dream with him. Rigid with self-discipline, totally unaware of Dane’s sharply assessing scrutiny, she noticed Maisie quietly tidying up in the pantry, and her selfish absorption in her own predicament left a nasty taste in her mouth. At least she had health and youth on her side. The Morleys had only the expectancy that a lifetime of service would lead to an easier old age. And now even that was to be denied them

Carter’s peevish voice sprung her from her depressing introspection. ‘What are you drinking, Claire?’

Dane expelled his breath. ‘Oh, put the lid on it, Carter. You were always a dead bore. You don’t need to labour the point the way you do,’ he drawled.

Ignoring Carter, Claire glanced hopefully at Dane. ‘You’ll stay to dinner?’ she urged. ‘It won’t be anything special, of course, but …’

‘Shall I send my chauffeur out for some steak?’ Dane interposed calmly. ‘We could all do with a decent meal. I’ll go and tell him.’

Carter’s mouth worked convulsively as Dane breezed past him. ‘Who does he think he is?’ he finally managed.

‘He was being practical,’ she countered with unwitting defensiveness. ‘He knows what the housekeeping budget is like here and I assume he’s hungry.’

‘I wasn’t talking about Dane’s appetite!’ he parried shortly.

Claire continued doggedly to peel potatoes. ‘I didn’t suppose you were, Carter, but I really don’t have anything else to discuss with you,’ she stressed coldly.

Impervious to hints, he murmured with an air of self-restraint. ‘I’ll speak to you later.’

Claire managed to smile at Maisie. ‘I think it’s time you went home. You must be exhausted. I can manage fine.’

Alone then, she pictured a life sentence of Carter and abandoned the picture with a shiver. The assiduous toadying with which he had paved his every visit here to Adam had made her stomach heave. Now resentment hurtled fiercely through her in addition. The will doesn’t specify which of your cousins. The solicitor’s deadpan aside produced a humourless smile on her mouth. As if she was ready to barter herself to anyone for money! Unless it wasn’t a real marriage … the insidious thought crept in. In an illuminating flash she saw the possibility of solving all her problems in one fell swoop.

Maisie and Sam would be secure. She could be with Max without being a burden. No, it was a fantastic notion, born out of sheer despair, and there was only one possible candidate. Dane. He was Adam’s grandson, too. But Dane would think she was crazy. The idea of even approaching him on such a mission plunged her sharply back to cold reality.

She flushed guiltily when he reappeared to dump a carrier bag on the table. ‘I like beef Stroganoff,’ he informed her, oblivious to her blushes as he departed again.

Dane always spoke with the assurance and habit of command. Even in his normal garb of jeans, the aura of power and unspoken expectations clung to him. But then from birth Dane had had everything he wanted. He was bound to be pretty selfish and spoilt by the fashion in which women pursued him. Her weary mouth down-curved. Who the heck did he think was going to toil over a hot stove to make his wretched meal? But why should he think? Used as he was to servants, it would not occur to Dane that he was creating hassle she could well do without.

The atmosphere round the table in the icy cold dining-room was tense. Dane ate with unblemished appetite. Carter, who looked upon anything remotely different in the food line as suspicious, poked his food round his plate, and Sandra was too busy trying to flirt with Dane to notice what she was eating.

‘Is it OK if I stay tonight?’ Dane enquired lazily. ‘I’m jet-lagged and I don’t feel like another journey.’

Claire nodded politely. ‘That’s fine.’

Another two beds to make up, unless he expected his chauffeur to sleep in the car! She trailed worn, thin sheets from the airing cupboard and trekked into the bedrooms. The rooms were so cold her breath was fogging in the air, and she went downstairs again to fill hot-water bottles that would take the chill off the rarely used beds. Then she lit a fire in Dane’s room. He was sure to be finding it colder than anyone else.

By the time she had done all that and embarked on the dishes, she was practically asleep standing up. When Carter came in and demanded to know where Maisie was, she nearly screamed at him. Slowly she counted to ten. ‘It’s late, Carter. I sent her home hours ago.’

‘Leave those, then. It’s time we talked.’

Setting the last dish to drain, she dried her hands. ‘Sorry, I’m going up to bed. It’s been a very long day.’

His mouth narrowed in exasperation. ‘For everybody, Claire,’ he rebuked condescendingly.

A fuse blew, Claire planted her hands on her hips. ‘Has it been? Were any of the rest of you involved in making beds, cleaning this wretched house or making meals? Has one of you so much as lifted a finger? Sandra and you arrived two days ago, and neither of you have done a single thing,’ she condemned. ‘Who do you think has been doing it? The fairies? The past week has been one long, relentless slog for me. I haven’t been sitting around sipping tea. I’ve been serving it. I wouldn’t marry you either, Carter, not if you went down on your bended knees and begged. I’m sorry your little plan has failed at the last ditch,’ she lied in a shaking voice. ‘Goodnight, Carter.’

She swept past his turkey-red face and mounted the stairs, hearing his shocked murmurings to his sister in the hall below. Well, she wasn’t ashamed of herself! Whatever the future held for her, she wasn’t going to be used by anyone again!

She recalled the social worker who had ferried her up here thirteen years ago. ‘You’re a very lucky little girl,’ that lady had said innocently. ‘You still have a family and you’re going to live in a lovely big house. I expect you’ll have lots of fun there.’ And Claire could still remember the coldness of the non-existent welcome mat, the lady’s uneasy, almost guilty departure.

On the surface, the passage of time had changed very little. However, she was a grown woman now, not a frightened, dependent child and if she didn’t fight, no one else would do the fighting for her, Automatically she readied herself for bed.

‘You’ll be taken care of. I’ve seen to that,’ Adam had pronounced piously weeks ago.

Taken care of? By what right had he chosen to reach out from beyond the grave to demand that she marry a man who didn’t even have the saving grace of respecting her? And she owed Carter nothing. Neither he nor his sister had even tried to ease the burden of nursing their grandfather. But oh, yes! they all had time to attend the funeral and none of them had the smallest interest in what happened to the Morleys. For the first time she appreciated that Maisie and Sam’s future was dependent on what she herself chose to do and the lunatic idea that had occurred to her earlier suddenly didn’t seem quite so fantastic any more.

Her hands shook with suppressed rage as she buttoned her robe. After all these years was she to let the Morleys go from this house penniless? Things might have been different had she been allowed to train as a secretary … or something. She could have helped them financially then. Instead, she had spent the past seven years being nothing more than a glorified servant. God knows, there weren’t even jobs out there for qualified people—what hope did she have? And Max? Being fired hadn’t helped his prospects. He’d done nothing to deserve such treatment. Neither had Maisie and Sam. Adam owed all of them more than that. If she married Dane, the terms of the will would be fulfilled. It would cost him nothing, yet it would mean so much to everyone else concerned.

What harm would it do just to mention the idea to him? You’re a coward. She glowered at herself myopically in the mirror. You could at least try. So what if he laughs? When are you likely to see him again?

Buoyed by a courage that was three-quarters desperation, she left her room and crept down the corridor to knock on Dane’s door. His quiet answer encouraged her in.

To her dismay he was already in bed, lying back against the pillows like a rather gorgeous sleek and tawny tiger, replete, the covers dipping dangerously low on his flat stomach. A curling mass of dark hair covered a triangular V on his muscular chest and then tapered down to an intriguing silky furrow below his waist. Framed against the white sheets, his golden skin was all the more noticeable. The interior of her mouth ran dry and she hastily averted her eyes.

He smiled. ‘I was just about to put out the light. Tell me, did everyone else qualify for a fire?’

Claire blushed and glanced at the fire she had kindled earlier. ‘No, but since you’re just back from abroad I thought you might feel the cold more. I need to speak to you … could you put something on?’ she asked hesitantly.

He laughed. ‘Don’t be such a prude, Claire. I don’t have pyjamas, and I distinctly recall you spending half the night with me when you had toothache years ago. It didn’t bother you then.’

‘I was eleven.’ Her breath was snarling up in her throat and she could feel her courage fleeing her second by second, so although she hadn’t planned it that way, she just hurled it at him.’ Dane … will you marry me?’

CHAPTER TWO

IF she had ever desired to see Dane the unshockable shocked, she saw it now. Sapphire-blue eyes arrowed over her incredulously. ‘Christ, you’re not still hung up on me, are you?’

Her small hands dug into the pockets of her dressing-gown. How conceited could a man get? So he had noticed. She supposed she ought to be thanking her lucky stars that he hadn’t felt the need to crush her with his cruel sarcasm back then.

‘Naturally not,’ she fielded stiltedly, wishing she had not gone too far to retreat. ‘I’m in a fix or I wouldn’t ask you. I’m not talking about a proper marriage, for goodness’ sake. I don’t know why you’re looking at me like that! I only need a licence to satisfy grandfather’s will.’

Dane pulled himself semi-upright in the bed and fixed his unsettling gaze on her tiny figure in the homespun dressing-gown, her slippered feet showing beneath the hem. ‘Underneath, you’re a real Fletcher, aren’t you? Anything for money,’ he derided. ‘I just never figured you would have the colossal impertinence to even consider me! Stick to Carter.’

A tide of painful heat scorched her skin. But she could not leave him with the false impression he had. ‘The Morleys will be in a terrible situation if there’s no money …’

Dane surveyed her grimly. ‘And who the hell are they?’

She thrust up her chin. ‘Grandfather’s two survivng servants. Sam is the gardener. He’s not very well at the moment. Maisie’s the housekeeper. They’re both in their seventies. No, it’s not funny, Dane.’ Her husky voice abruptly developed steel. ‘They live in a cottage over at the Meadowfield. It’s a hovel. Grandfather never did a single thing for them. If I don’t marry someone, no one else is likely to help them.’

‘You’re breaking my heart,’ he jibed softly. ‘Couldn’t you think up something more convincing than that?’

Valiantly she tamped down her anger. ‘It’s true, but apart from them … well … I’m in love …’

‘With me?’ he grated shortly. ‘Go back to bed, Claire.’

‘Damn you!’ For the second time in the day, Claire lost her temper. ‘There’d be something quite peculiar about me if I’d carried a teenage crush this long without encouragement! I’m in love with Max and he wants to marry me and I want to marry him,’ she recited with relish. ‘But I can’t go to Max without a penny, Dane. It’s not fair. I can’t even get a decent job. And if you want to know, well I do resent the way I was taken from school before I even sat my exams. It left me fitted for nothing. One tiny sacrifice from you would settle all my problems.’ Her voice had sunk down to a less forceful hiss as she ran out of steam.

Dane’s appraisal was close to fascinated. His mobile mouth twitched. ‘One tiny sacrifice?’ he queried.

‘Nobody outside the family would need to know,’ she protested tightly. ‘And I doubt if you have any deep-seated hang-ups about divorce.’

‘I’m hanging on your every word,’ he encouraged silkily. ‘I never expected to be so diverted at Ranbury. It’s been a truly amazing day.’

Claire interlinked her fingers tautly. ‘It would be the perfect solution for everyone. The money could be divided up between all of us and then no one could be offended.’

‘If you think Carter would thank you for a quarter when he’s expecting the whole, you’re a fool. And yes, you can absolve me of circumventing the will to get a share.’

His contempt was a new experience for Claire, but she kept going. ‘I have thought about that, and sometimes it’s a matter of what’s really right rather than paying dues to principles one can’t afford …’

He swore half under his breath. ‘Yes, you have thought about this.’

She flushed miserably. ‘It’s not any less ethical than Grandfather trying to force me into marriage with Carter, and it’s certainly wrong that he made no provision for Maisie and Sam. But I quite see that since you don’t get any profit out of it, it doesn’t appeal.’

‘Now that was below the belt,’ he murmured.

Claire bit her lip. ‘Perhaps, but I’m getting a little tired of being patronised, Dane.’

A winged ebony brow lifted with icy hauteur. ‘Really?’

‘Really!’ She was trembling now. ‘You think this is so damned amusing and so pathetically pushing of me, and you know very well I’m not like that. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if there was any other choice! But you don’t care what happens to those old people because they’re not your responsibility, and you’re acting insulted because I’m not the least pretty. I suppose it would have been less insulting if I had been,’ she muttered tearfully. ‘But I’d face anything before I had to face life with Carter, and I won’t do it, which proves that wretched money isn’t that important to me!’

She whirled out of the room before she could let her tongue make a bigger fool of herself. Why had she done it! Dane required neither the money nor the hassle, and if he had ever put himself out for anybody she had yet to hear of it. For all his scathing comments on Carter, she would not be surprised to discover that at the back of his mind Dane considered him a very fair match for her.

To give him his due, Carter had made no mention of love. He was not that big a liar. ‘We get on well and we have tastes in common,’ he had assumed in a rallying tone. ‘And I don’t need to tell you how pleased it would make Grandfather. But I see I’ve surprised you and I’m sure you want some time to think over the idea of marrying.’ He had dealt her a smug, conceited smile. ‘I expect you imagined you’d be staying single.’

She wondered bitterly if she might have considered such a loveless union had she not, through Max, realised how much more was available to her. Her desire for children might have tempted her. She saw again how devastated Dane had been, the insolent way his mouth had curled when she talked of loving Max, and she so wished Max had been here in the flesh to silence Carter. Had he been, she wouldn’t have had to stupidly ask Dane for help. Dane didn’t give a damn about things that didn’t affect his comfort. She wiped her damp eyes crossly, deeply regretting the dignity she had abandoned with Dane.

‘Claire … wake up!’ A firm hand was shaking her shoulder and her eyes flew open with a start, blinking at the light shining from the bedside lamp.

It was Dane standing over her, a sweater and a pair of jeans now covering him. ‘What time is it?’ she mumbled.

‘Three, and I’ve been thinking it over.’ He delivered her a searching glance as she sat up, pushing her copper hair off her brow, her drowsy eyes embarrassed and semi-veiled. ‘I guess you do feel pretty desperate, so I can understand why you suggested it.’

Three? Claire suppressed a groan, dredged as she had been from a deep sleep. Dane was smoothing over the unpleasantness and about to unleash, she suspected, all the reasons against such a preposterous arrangement.

‘For some reason, it doesn’t seem to have occurred to you that I might have someone in my life who would make a marriage—discreet or otherwise—impossible.’

Her astonishment was unconcealed. ‘Have you?’

A very faint bar of colour accentuated his hard cheekbones. ‘No, as it happens. That doesn’t seem to surprise you,’ he noted drily.

Helplessly she smiled. ‘You’re not the marrying kind.’

‘No,’ he agreed, a mocking slant to his beautiful mouth, a night’s dark stubble increasing his raw sex appeal. ‘I enjoy my freedom and I intend to keep it that way. Tell me about Max.’

‘Is that necessary? It’s private … I mean …’ she stammered under his amused scrutiny.

‘What does he do?’

‘He went to agricultural college. He’s twenty-five, and came up here to work with Roy Baxter as a trainee.’

‘So what happened to him?’

Claire linked her hands loosely. ‘Grandfather sacked him once I told him that we wanted to get married. Max is in London now and he’s still out of work,’ she breathed bitterly.

‘And you want to bestow all your worldly goods on a guy who didn’t even have the interest to take you with him?’ Dane derided unfeelingly.

‘That’s unfair. Max knows I had no choice and he wouldn’t have asked me when he had nowhere to take me,’ she argued vehemently. ‘For goodness’ sake be practical, Dane. Max lives with his family.’

His lashes screened his eyes to a mere glimmer of midnight-blue. ‘And maybe he didn’t want you without the blessing of yours.’

Her breath rattled in her throat. My God, what a cruel cynic Dane was! ‘That’s a horrible thing to say. Max didn’t even know Grandfather was a rich man,’ she protested. ‘He could hardly have guessed, the way we live up here!’

‘Adam’s wealth is widely talked about locally and he was a legend of eccentricity.’ Dane viewed her furious face and sighed. ‘OK, I’ll make you a deal.’

Her forehead furrowed. ‘A deal?’

He came down lithely on the edge of the mattress and stretched out his long legs. ‘What do you propose to do after the ceremony?’

She took in his implication with a fast-beating heart. ‘Move in with Max,’ she confided shyly.

Dane treated her to a cold smile. ‘You’ve certainly grown up. I’ll do it, however, but on one condition.’

‘What?’ she prompted apprehensively.

‘I control Adam’s estate.’ He interpreted her blank stare. ‘I’m not prepared to stand by and let you gaily dispose of the money as soon as you get it. Adam clearly wanted that money to be yours, and I wouldn’t agree to you making any big decisions on what you do with it too quickly,’ he assserted. ‘You’ll surely be the first to admit that you have no experience of handling large sums of money. At least, they’ll be large to you but I seriously doubt he was one quarter as wealthy as this family imagines. He couldn’t have been if he mortgaged this house.’