Fiance For Christmas

‘It wasn’t like that!’

‘Whatever you were doing, Max couldn’t take it. After he threw you out he went berserk when Julia told him she was pregnant, and utterly refused to believe the child was his. He told Julia the marriage was over and she couldn’t see Alice again. Which,’ added Cassie with passion, ‘was cruel. Julia had been Alice’s stepmother for only a year, it’s true, but she’d been working in the house for a long time before that as his secretary. They adored each other. The poor little thing was only six years old. It hurt Julia horribly.’ She gave Nick a straight look. ‘It didn’t do Alice much good either. And now we haven’t a clue where Alice is, and your brother is too busy with some prehistoric tribe to come home to his daughter, let alone care that he has another one he’s never seen.’

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN they arrived in Chiswick, Max Seymour’s house was as quiet and deserted as before.

‘Let’s hope he hasn’t changed the locks,’ said Nick grimly.

Cassie sighed with relief as Nick gave a grunt of triumph and opened the door, then switched on lights to reveal an undecorated Christmas tree standing in a bucket near the foot of the stairs, looking incongruous in the panelled hall.

‘Alice!’ yelled Nick, and took the stairs to the upper floor, two at a time. Cassie started after him, then changed her mind as she saw red lights glowing on the telephone on the hall table. With no compunction for listening to Max Seymour’s private business, she pressed the button, her disappointment intense when she heard the voice of his agent, saying he needed to see Max the minute he got back from New Guinea.

You’re not the only one, she thought grimly, then a familiar small voice made her heart beat faster.

‘No one here,’ said Nick, running down the stairs.

Cassie hushed him frantically as Alice’s voice sounded on the machine. ‘Hello, Daddy, this is Alice. I’m in Janet’s house. Mrs Cartwright wanted to take me home with Laura, but I wanted to wait here for you. Janet was here, so I wasn’t on my own. When you didn’t come Janet said best to go home with her for the night and come back tomorrow, because she’s got to cook Ken’s supper. Come and fetch me when you get home,’ ended Alice, on a quavering note which tore at Cassie’s heartstrings.

‘When he does I’ll punch him in the nose,’ said Nick savagely.

‘Who’s Janet?’

‘She looks after the house for Max. She lives in during school holidays, but Ken, whoever he is, obviously had a prior claim tonight.’

‘Where does she live?’

‘Damned if I know. Let’s find out.’ Nick strode across the hall into a masculine, book-lined study dominated by a desk with a computer.

‘So this is where he writes the books,’ said Cassie, feeling a lot better now she knew Alice was safe.

Nick was rummaging through desk drawers at top speed, and seized on a leather address book. ‘Bullseye. I was afraid Max might have kept everything on disk.’ He flipped over pages swiftly, then frowned.

‘What is it?’ demanded Cassie impatiently. ‘Isn’t Janet there?’

‘Yes, she is,’ he said slowly. ‘Her name’s Jenkins.’

‘Is there a telephone number for her?’

Nick nodded, and began punching out numbers on his phone as he handed Cassie the book. ‘Read the other entry under “J”.’

She shot him a curious look, then ran her eye over the other names, her teeth catching in her lower lip as her sister’s name sprang out from the page. She held her breath as Nick began talking to someone on the phone, then let it out thankfully when his eyes blazed with relief.

‘No, don’t wake her up, Janet,’ he was saying. ‘I’m just glad Alice is safe with you. No, I’m afraid there’s no news of her father yet. In the morning tell her I’ll come round here to Chiswick about eleven, if that’s convenient. Thank you very much indeed. Goodnight.’

Nick sat down very suddenly in the captain’s chair behind his brother’s desk. ‘Thank God. Janet’s bringing her back here in the morning.’ He looked at Cassie levelly. ‘So you’ve found Julia’s address in there.’

Cassie nodded. ‘The odd thing is, Nick, it’s the Acton address, and she moved there only recently. He’s obviously keeping tabs on her.’

Nick got up, frowning. ‘On the baby, too?’

‘I don’t know.’ Cassie gave him a wobbly smile. ‘But don’t let Emily hear you say “baby”. She’s a big girl.’ Suddenly the events of the night all closed in on Cassie at once, and to her utter horror tears began rolling down her cheeks.

‘Hey!’ said Nick in alarm. ‘Don’t cry, Cassie. Please!’ He seized her in his arms, but the tears only flowed faster, soaking his thin suit jacket. ‘Look, if you don’t stop I’ll catch pneumonia. I’m not dressed for this weather—I’m freezing. If I get wet on top of it I’ll be in trouble.’

Cassie pulled herself together and pushed him away, sniffing hard as she rummaged in her pocket for a tissue ‘Sorry about that. Reaction. I kept imagining such terrible things—’

‘Don’t!’ said Nick harshly. ‘Alice is safe; that’s all that counts.’

‘Can I borrow your phone to ring Julia, please?’ Cassie’s reddened eyes flashed angrily. ‘I won’t use anything belonging to Max.’

Nick listened unashamedly as Cassie spoke reassuringly to her sister.

‘Thanks,’ she said briefly, handing the phone back.

‘You could have talked longer than that, Cassie.’

‘I couldn’t. Julia was crying too much. With relief, like me.’ Cassie sniffed inelegantly and rubbed at her eyes. ‘At least she can get to sleep now. And, if Emily permits, maybe have a bit of a lie-in tomorrow as it’s Saturday.’

‘What happens in the week?’

‘Julia works for a software manufacturer. The company provides a crèche where she can leave Emily.’

Nick scowled. ‘She’s got a job? No wonder she looks so exhausted.’

‘How else would she manage? Babies are expensive.’

He looked uncomfortable. ‘Forgive me for prying, but your parents live in the country. Wouldn’t they prefer it if she returned home to live?’

‘You bet they would! She did go home to have the baby, but when Emily was six months old Julia insisted on going back to work. Mother and Dad help as much as she allows, but Julia’s very independent. She feels she’s to blame for this mess—’

‘It’s my fault, not Julia’s!’

‘I blame Max,’ said Cassie with venom. ‘In fact, I could murder him with my bare hands at this precise moment.’

‘That makes two of us,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’ He smiled suddenly, the first real smile he’d managed all night. ‘Sorry I ruined your evening, Cassie. I’ll buy you dinner to make amends.’

Cassie caught sight of herself in the mirror on Max’s wall, and laughed. ‘With red eyes and mascara smudges? No way. Thanks just the same.’

‘You’re not quite the vision who let me in earlier on,’ agreed Nick, amused, as he locked up. ‘But I think I prefer the way you look right now—more like the young Cassie I used to know.’

‘You didn’t know me at all, Dominic Seymour!’ Which was all to the good, she thought with a shiver. If he had he might have noticed the crush she’d had on him once.

‘Cold?’ he said with sympathy, and turned the heater on full-blast.

Cassie settled low in her seat for the journey back to Shepherd’s Bush, feeling hungry, emotionally drained and in no mood for conversation. A mood which Nick obviously shared. When they reached the house he manoeuvred the Subaru into a space better suited to a Mini, then killed the engine and turned to her.

‘Cassie, I want to come in for a minute. I won’t keep you long. I need some advice.’

Cassie had rather hoped to see him off right away. Now the crisis was over she felt tired and hungry and in need of her bed. And oddly flat. ‘I suppose so,’ she said, resigned.

Once inside the house she hung up her coat on a peg with Nick’s raincoat, and because he was still shivering she turned the heating back on and took him into the kitchen, where it was warmest.

‘Before dishing out this advice you’re after,’ she said, yawning, ‘I’d better call Rupert and let him know Alice is safe.’

‘Does he know Alice?’

‘No. But he was very good about being pushed off without the meal I’d promised. And he did ask me to let him know what happened.’ Cassie marched past Nick and shut the kitchen door behind her so she could talk to Rupert in private. But he wasn’t home. Disappointed, she left a message, then went back to the kitchen to find Nick munching on a hunk of bread he’d cut from the loaf on the table.

‘Hope you don’t mind,’ he said indistinctly.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ she said impatiently. ‘If you’re that hungry I’ll give you a proper meal. But don’t kid yourself I feel any friendlier towards you, Nick. It’s only because I’m famished myself.’

Nick’s eyes glittered coldly, but instead of refusing, as Cassie expected, he forced a smile. ‘If you’re sure it’s no trouble.’

‘I wouldn’t offer if it was,’ she assured him. ‘It won’t take long.’

‘Thanks, Cassie. Mind if I have some more bread?’

‘Help yourself,’ she said, resigned, and lit the gas under the soup and the vegetables. She handed him a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. ‘Open that, please,’ she ordered, then went out to fetch the silverware and plates from the other room. The splendour of the red cloth and the candles had been for Rupert. Nick Seymour could make do with the kitchen.

He smiled sardonically as she set the table. ‘Ah! The honour of candles and tablecloth is not to be mine.’

‘No,’ she said shortly.

‘This is cosier,’ he assured her. ‘After all, we’re sort of family, you and I, Cassie.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘You mean you’re in love with your brother’s wife, who just happens to be my sister.’

For a moment Cassie was afraid she’d gone too far, but Nick held on to his temper with obvious, rather frightening effort.

‘You’re wrong!’ he said harshly at last. ‘I was a bit of a fool about Julia when I was younger, I admit, but she only had eyes for Max—always. Once they were married I steered clear of the house unless invited. I called unexpectedly that particular day because I was off to work in Nigeria for a while. I found Julia feeling off-colour and miserable because Max was about to leave on one of his endless trips into some wilderness, so I gave her a hug. Max walked in on a bit of brotherly comfort on my part and the rest is history.’ He looked Cassie in the eye. ‘I had a callow, immature crush on Julia once, it’s true. But it died a natural death. On the day in question I was just providing a convenient shoulder to cry on.’

‘It’s a pity you never managed to convince your brother of the fact,’ she pointed out, stirring the soup.

‘I tried, believe me,’ said Nick wearily. ‘No one was more appalled by what happened than I was.’

‘I seriously doubt that!’ Cassie slid the salmon into the microwave and fetched soup bowls from the cupboard. ‘The effect on Julia was shattering.’

‘I know. She refused to have anything to do with me afterwards. I haven’t seen her since, until tonight.’ He looked up, the striking blue eyes full of remorse. ‘She looks so much older, Cassie.’

‘So would you if you were a single parent juggling a lively toddler with a demanding job,’ she retorted. ‘Besides, Julia doesn’t usually look like that. You caught her at the end of a long working week, trying to get her baby to sleep. She was entitled to look tired.’

Nick nodded morosely, then brightened visibly as Cassie brought bowls of hot, fragrant soup to the table. ‘This smells wonderful. I’m impressed.’

‘I aim to please,’ she said briskly, sitting down. ‘Have some more bread.’

Cassie was almost as hungry as Nick, and neither of them said much until the soup bowls were empty. But when she put a plate of salmon and vegetables in front of him Nick gave her a wry look.

‘This was intended for Ashcroft, of course. I’m hellish sorry I ruined your evening, Cassie.’

She shrugged philosophically. ‘There’ll be other times. I see Rupert every day, anyway.’

‘So this is a regular occurrence?’ Nick began on his meal with relish. ‘If so, he’s a lucky guy.’

Cassie poured wine into their glasses, her resentment flaring up again. ‘Actually this was our first real date. I haven’t known Rupert long. He’s taken me out for a drink after work sometimes, but when he asked me out to dinner I suggested he came round here instead. So tonight was rather special.’

‘And I wrecked it.’ Nick drank some wine, his eyes sombre. ‘Something I’m bloody good at where the Lovells are concerned.’

‘Oh, get on with your supper,’ she said irritably. ‘After all,’ she added, trying to be fair, ‘when it comes to wrecking lives it was Max who did the demolition job on Julia’s, not you.’

‘He’s not doing much better with Alice, either, if today is anything to go by,’ said Nick grimly. ‘Let’s talk about something else. You, preferably. I know you went to college. What did you read?’

‘I did a BA in secretarial administration.’ Cassie added more vegetables to Nick’s plate.

‘And after that?’ he prompted. ‘Go on. I’m interested.’

‘I did temping for a while. I liked the variety, and it gave me experience, and a chance to find a job I really liked. These days I provide administrative support to a team of eight at an investment bank in the City. The group analyses the credit quality of various companies and so on.’

‘And young Rupert is one of the team,’ stated Nick.

‘Yes.’ Cassie frowned at him. ‘And he’s only a couple of years younger than you, Nick Seymour.’

‘And what exactly is this “support” you give Rupert?’

‘Exactly what the rest of the team gets,’ she said evenly. ‘All of them travel a lot, and I spend hours on the phone organising their itineraries and co-ordinating meetings.’

Nick grinned. ‘So it’s not just a spot of dictation and typing, then.’

‘No. I have all the usual keyboard skills, of course,’ said Cassie loftily, ‘but I use them to draft letters and presentations, mainly. I love my involvement in the job. I was able to smooth Rupert’s path quite a lot when he joined the team.’

‘As I said, lucky guy. Are you in love with him?’ added Nick casually.

Instead of snubbing him, Cassie thought it over. ‘I’m certainly attracted to him,’ she said at last.

‘When I arrived the scene looked set for a very intimate evening, Cassie. Was he hoping to take you to bed at the end of it?’

‘It’s none of your business!’ she said angrily.

‘I apologise, Cassie,’ Nick said promptly, and gave her a hopeful smile. ‘Would there be pudding by any chance?’

‘You’ve got a nerve,’ she said, shaking her head as she got up to take his plate. ‘As it happens I do have a pudding for once—tartelet aux cerises, to be precise.’

‘Cherry tart—wonderful!’ he said with relish. ‘I don’t seem to have eaten much these past few days.’

‘Why not?’

‘There were hold-ups on a hotel construction in Riyadh. I’ve been on site there for the last two months, troubleshooting and generally getting everything back on schedule. I’ve been working all hours so I could get back to the UK for Christmas.’ Nick’s eyes gleamed as Cassie served him the warmed tart with a spoonful of whipped cream. ‘That looks good. My Somali cook out there had certain specialities he served at every meal. I’d be happy never to see a jacket potato again.’

‘They’re my staple diet,’ said Cassie. She topped up his wine glass and leaned back in her chair. ‘Four minutes or so in a microwave, a spoonful of cottage cheese, and dinner’s ready.’

‘So you don’t cook like this every night?’

She chuckled. ‘I don’t cook like this any night.’

His eyebrows rose. ‘You mean you had this sent in?’

‘No. I just bought it all on the way home and read the instructions on the packets. I had my hair done instead. Much more important than slaving over a hot stove.’

Nick threw back his head and laughed, and suddenly he was so much more like the young man Cassie had once fancied so much she felt a pang of nostalgia for times past, before Max’s jealousy had disrupted so many lives.

‘Were you going to admit all that to young Ashcroft?’ he demanded.

‘Only if he asked,’ said Cassie honestly. ‘I was hoping he’d be too fascinated by my company and my appearance to care where the meal came from.’

‘As he was!’ said Nick emphatically. ‘I walked in on how fascinated he was.’ He sobered suddenly. ‘Was the dress new, bought specially for the occasion?’

Cassie nodded, the look in his dark-rimmed blue eyes putting her on guard. ‘Yes. Why?’

‘I feel more of a heel than ever. You obviously spent a lot of money on a dress and your hair, not to mention the meal—’

‘If you bang on about ruining my evening again, I’ll throw my plate at you,’ she said irritably. ‘Finding Alice was a lot more important than any dress, and if it makes you any happier you can jolly well pay for the meal, since you’ve eaten most of it, Dominic Seymour.’

‘All right, all right,’ he said hastily. ‘Pax, Cassie. If I’m paying, can I have some more wine? I’ve been living without such niceties these past few weeks.’

‘You’ve got to drive home,’ she reminded him.

‘How have I organised my life without you up to now?’ he said with sarcasm, and commandeered the bottle to pour himself a second glass of wine. ‘If it won’t inconvenience you too much, Cassandra Lovell, I’ll leave the car here and take a cab tonight. Alcohol doesn’t play a big part in my life, but after the shock of finding Alice missing is it a sin to fancy a glass of wine or two? Especially after two months of abstinence?’

‘No, of course not. Sorry.’ She shook her head when he made to refill her glass. ‘Not for me, thanks. I’ll make some coffee later. Bring the bottle and your glass and we’ll go and sit in the other room. You look tired.’

Nick got up, yawning. ‘Life’s been pretty hectic lately.’ He followed her into the other room and sank down on the sofa with a sigh after she curled up in a chair. He eyed her gloomily. ‘What the hell am I going to do, Cassie?’

‘About Alice?’

‘Yes. And Max, too. Frankly, I’m worried. There’s been some unrest near the particular region he was heading for. I hope he hasn’t got tangled up in any of it.’

‘So do I!’ Cassie shivered. ‘Though only because of Alice,’ she added with candour.

Nick was silent for a long interval, smiling his thanks when Cassie refilled his glass. ‘What the blazes am I going to do? How the devil do I provide a proper Christmas for Alice? I hope Janet’s willing to hang on in Chiswick. If she is I’d better take over one of Max’s spare rooms until he turns up. Whether he likes it or not,’ he added grimly. ‘We’ve seen as little as possible of each other since the break-up with Julia, but he lets me see Alice now and then.’

‘As well he might,’ said Cassie indignantly. ‘With no grandparents any more, the poor little thing’s not exactly awash with relatives!’

Nick frowned. ‘If Julia’s so fond of Alice, how has Max managed to keep her away from her?’

‘He was in such a rage that memorable day he actually threatened her with an injunction. But there are ways round that. I take letters and presents from Julia when I take Alice out from school. So does my mother.’ Cassie sighed angrily. ‘Your brother’s inhuman.’

‘Step-brother, actually,’ Nick reminded her.

‘Oh, yes. I’d forgotten that. You certainly don’t resemble each other.’

‘Max looks like his mother. She ran off with another man when he was a baby, so Dad hired a very highly qualified nanny by the name of Eileen Ryan, and fell in love with her. He married her as soon as the divorce came through, and a year or so later I was born.’

‘I’ve seen her photograph,’ said Cassie quietly. ‘You’re the image of her.’

‘I know. I miss her. I miss them both. So does Max. Which,’ said Nick, with sudden violence, ‘is why I can never understand why he keeps Julia away from Alice. He loved my mother, and she loved him. Just as Julia loves Alice.’

‘Perhaps it’s pride.’

‘Maybe he expects every woman to behave like his biological mother.’

Cassie pulled out the shoelace from her hair, which she’d grabbed from one of her sneakers in her hurry to look for Alice. The gleaming ringlets cascaded to the shoulders of her dark blue sweater, and she tugged on one of them absently with her teeth as a plan began to formulate in her mind. She looked up to see Nick’s eyes on her.

‘What?’ she demanded.

‘I was admiring the view.’ A smile tugged at the corners of his wide, well-cut mouth. ‘Poor Rupert.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m just beginning to realise what he’s missed out on tonight. A great meal—wherever it came from—and a beautiful companion to enjoy it with.’ He sighed theatrically. ‘I should feel guilty, but I don’t—even if I am just an interloper who got lucky.’

‘This is as lucky as you get,’ she warned him sharply, put out by something in his manner.

The spectacular eyes gleamed. ‘Don’t worry, Cassie. I wasn’t about to leap on your body.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ she retorted, bristling. ‘I prefer men who come without your history, Dominic Seymour.’

‘Why does my name sound like an epithet when you say it in full?’ he asked curiously.

‘It’s better than some epithets I could use!’

‘So you still dislike me?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not crazy about you, I admit. Though Julia told me you weren’t really to blame for what happened. I know you were in love with her once, of course, but that was nothing new. Most men she met fell in love with her. I just wish she’d married any one of them instead of Max Seymour.’

‘Does she still feel the same way about him?’ asked Nick soberly.

‘We don’t discuss Max, but I’m pretty sure she does. Though how she can still love him utterly mystifies me. If a man treated me like that I’d either murder him or forget he ever existed.’

‘No grand passion for you, then, Cassie?’

‘No way. I’m not the type.’ She shrugged. ‘I quite fancy Rupert, but I don’t see him as something permanent in my life.’

Nick got to his feet, yawning. ‘I’ll withdraw to your bathroom, then I’d better call a cab.’

‘I’ll make some coffee first,’ she said, jumping up.

‘What a saint you are, Cassandra,’ he mocked, and breathed in deeply to steady himself as he followed her from the room.

Cassie went out to fill Meg’s expensive Italian machine with the Blue Mountain coffee she’d bought to impress Rupert. While it was brewing she washed up quickly, obeying the golden rule of the house. No dirty dishes left until next day. At last she filled tall mugs with fragrant dark coffee, and put them on a tray with cream and sugar.

Cassie nudged the sitting-room door open with her knee, then gave a sigh of pure frustration, mentally kicking herself for taking so long. Nick Seymour was stretched out on the sofa, fast asleep.

Cassie muttered something rude under her breath, put the tray down on the table and did her best to rouse Nick from a sleep so deep it looked like a coma. And it might just as well have been for all the good it did when she tried to wake him. In the end she gave up, bone-weary herself by this time. She took the tray back into the kitchen, gulped down some of her coffee and went upstairs to borrow a blanket and a double quilt from Hannah, who was skiing with Meg in Gstaad. Cassie eased Nick’s shoes from his long, chilly feet, put a cushion under his head and tucked the blanket and quilt round his sprawled, relaxed body, careless of whether she disturbed him. But Nick slumbered on, vanquished by a combination of jet-lag and stress topped off by a good dinner and three glasses of unaccustomed wine.

‘Sweet dreams,’ said Cassie, resigned, and turned out the light.

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