Mistress On Loan

An elderly ladder had been propped against the lower trunk, and after that you’d climbed up through the branches until you reached the treehouse.

It had had a roof of sorts, and three walls constructed out of timber oddments, but to Adrien it had been a magic place—a castle, a palace, a cave where anything could happen.

She had known, because he’d let her look through his binoculars, that Chay went there to watch birds mostly, but sometimes he’d come to read or just think. He’d kept books up there, and a sketchpad, and a tin of biscuits.

She’d asked once, ‘Isn’t it funny—being all on your own here?’

He’d looked at her thoughtfully, not smiling. ‘It’s good to be alone sometimes. You need to be comfortable in your own company before you can be happy with other people.’

Adrien hadn’t been sure what he meant, and her face must have shown it, because he’d laughed suddenly, and reached out, tugging gently at a plait.

‘Is it so awful, Adie—the thought of having no one to talk to?’

‘I’d hate it,’ she’d said, shivering as a breeze stirred the leaves and made them sigh. ‘I’d be frightened. Up here by myself.’

I actually told him that, she thought. I put the weapon in his hand and he used it against me. Used it to punish me. Unforgettably. Unforgivably.

There was no ladder there now, or platform, no flapping roof. No trace of the little girl who’d knelt there, crying, for all that endless time, convinced she’d been deserted and forgotten.

It was just—a tree.

His voice reached her quietly. ‘It’s been gone a long time, Adie. Angus had the gardener dismantle it and put it on a bonfire. I had to watch it burn.’

She spun round, her hand flying to her mouth. ‘What are you doing here?’ She’d had no inkling of his approach until he spoke.

‘You have a short memory,’ he said. ‘I own the place now—remember?’ He looked her over, absorbing the dark grey linen suit and the white silk camisole beneath it. ‘What happened to this morning’s Pollyanna?’

She said shortly, ‘Pollyanna grew up—fast. And I meant how did you know where I’d be? Because I never come here.’

‘Your Jeep was there,’ he said. ‘But the doors were still locked. I—obeyed an instinct.’

She supposed she had done the same thing, and it irked her. She lifted her chin. ‘I’m—trespassing. I apologise. I came to clear out my stuff.’

He glanced round, brows raised. ‘You’ve been camping in the wood?’ he enquired. ‘How enterprising.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s in the house. I—I’ll go and fetch it—if that’s all right.’

He shrugged. ‘Be my guest.’

She offered him a frozen smile. ‘I think that’s carrying hospitality too far.’

‘As it happens,’ he said slowly, ‘you’ve already been under my roof for nearly a week.’

She swallowed, forcing her legs to move, walking back down the track. ‘The sale went through that long ago? And I wasn’t told? Oh, but I suppose it all happened in Portugal.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I was in London, and so was Piers. He came over to sign the necessary papers before leaving for Brazil.’

For a moment she couldn’t speak. She certainly couldn’t move as she digested this latest blow.

Piers had been in England, she thought with anguish, and she hadn’t known. He’d been here, and he hadn’t warned her. She wanted to sink to her knees and howl her misery to the sky.

Chay watched her. He said, ‘Obviously he didn’t make contact.’

It was a statement, not a question. But then, he’d been able to observe her shock and desperation at close quarters earlier that day. He knew how brutal the deception had been.

Adrien straightened her shoulders and set off again. She said coolly, ‘That’s understandable. After all, I might have taken it badly—learning I’d been jilted as well as saddled with a mountain of debt. Far better to let me find out once he was at a safe distance. I suppose Brazil could be considered a safe distance. Besides, he knew what fun you’d have, breaking the news to me in person.’

His mouth twisted. ‘You have a weird idea of what I find enjoyable. But I’ll say this for you, Adie, you’re not a whinger.’

‘Give me time,’ she tossed back over her shoulder. ‘I’m planning a whinge of cosmic proportions. Would you like to buy a ticket? It seems I need every penny I can get. And you don’t have to follow me,’ she added with aggression. ‘I’m not planning to rob the place.’

‘Don’t be paranoid,’ he said. ‘We just happen to be going in the same direction.’

‘No,’ she said forcefully. ‘No, we don’t. Not now, not ever. Could you wait somewhere, please, while I collect my things? Then I’ll be out of your face.’

‘Sorry.’ He shook his head. ‘I want to look over the Grange—see what’s been done and what’s left to do.’

‘I have the whole thing on computer,’ she said. ‘I’ll send you a print-out.’

‘It might be useful.’ He was walking beside her now. The track was narrow, and it was difficult to avoid contact with him. ‘But I’d prefer a guided tour and a detailed breakdown of the renovations process from the person responsible. You.’

She halted, lips parting in a gasp of outrage. She’d transformed the Grange for Piers and herself. Her hopes and dreams were woven intimately into the fabric of each room. Too intimately to share with an interloper. She felt as if he’d asked her to strip naked.

She said jerkily, ‘I have a better idea. Hire another design team and let them fill in the missing pieces. Although you could probably sell it as it stands, if you want a fast profit.’

He gave her a hooded look. ‘What makes you think I’m going to sell?’

My accountant, she thought. She’d telephoned him earlier—asked, trying to sound casual, what he knew about Haddon Developments.

Chay, she’d learned, was a mover and shaker. ‘His speciality,’ Mark had told her, ‘is identifying major building projects that have run into financial difficulties, buying them for bottom dollar, then selling them on after completion for megabucks. He’s good at it. Why are you asking?’

‘Oh,’ she’d said. ‘Someone was mentioning his name, that’s all.’

Mark had laughed. ‘Friend or foe?’ he’d enquired. ‘Word has it he’s a good man to have on your side, but a bad one to cross. Generally he doesn’t arouse lukewarm opinions.’

She’d said lightly, ‘Thanks for the warning.’ Adding silently, It’s only sixteen years too late.

Now, she looked back at her adversary. ‘Because that’s what you do. You move in, clean up, and move on.’

‘Not always,’ he said. ‘And not this time. Because I’m going to live here.’

‘But you can’t.’ The words escaped before she could stop them.

‘Why not?’

‘You already have somewhere to live.’ Mark again. ‘You have a flat in a converted warehouse by the Thames, and a farmhouse in Suffolk.’

‘You’ve really done your homework,’ he said appreciatively. ‘When interior design palls, you could always apply to MI5.’

She shrugged. ‘Local boy makes good. That’s always news. Even if it’s the housekeeper’s son.’

‘Especially when it’s the housekeeper’s son,’ he said mockingly.

She glared at him, and walked on. When he spoke again his voice was quiet, ‘I was sorry to hear about your parents, Adie. I know how close you all were.’

She said tightly, ‘Clearly I’m not the only one to do homework.’ And they completed the rest of the walk back to the house in silence.

Outside the side door, Adrien paused and drew a deep breath. ‘If you want to make your inspection in privacy, I can come back another day for my things.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Get them now. That is, if you’re sure you won’t come round with me.’

‘I’m certain.’

‘Don’t you want to boast of your achievements?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t feel particularly triumphant. Anyway, you’re the expert,’ she added with edge. ‘I don’t need to point out a thing.’

‘You used to like company.’

‘That,’ she said, ‘would depend on the company. I’ll see myself out when I’ve finished.’

Once inside, she headed for the stairs, and the room she’d been using. She hadn’t brought much, and her travel bag was soon packed. She was just rolling up the sleeping bag she’d been using when Chay appeared in the doorway.

‘So you chose this room?’ He looked round, brows raised quizzically as he took in the narrow camp bed. ‘I’d have thought the master bedroom was the appropriate place for the mistress. Don’t you find this a little cramped for passion? Or did Piers like you to keep still?’

Her face flamed. ‘You bastard. You know nothing about it—nothing. Piers and I were engaged.’

His glance skimmed her bare left hand. ‘Really? Well, at least you don’t have to send the ring back for—er, recycling.’

There was a silence, then she said huskily, ‘That was an unforgivable thing to say.’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘But so much between us, my sweet, has been unforgivable. And unforgiven.’

She snatched up the travel bag and walked towards the door which he was still blocking.

She said, ‘Will you let me pass, please?’

‘In a moment. I have a proposal to put to you.’

My God, Adrien thought. He’s going to ask me to finish the house.

Naturally, she would refuse. It would break her heart to go on working here, with all the might-have-beens. Yet—if she agreed—she could charge him a fee that would enable her to start paying her creditors. Could she really afford to turn down such a chance?

She said discouragingly, ‘Well?’

Before she could guess what he was going to do, or take evasive action, his hands had slid under the lapels of her jacket, pushing them apart, while the grey eyes made a slow, lingering survey of the swell of her rounded breasts under the clinging camisole.

He said softly, ‘Very well. Quite exquisite, in fact. You’ve grown up beautifully, Adie.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ Shaken to the core by the sudden unprovoked intimacy, she pulled away, horrified to realise that behind their silken barrier her nipples were hardening in swift, shamed excitement.

‘And don’t handle me either,’ she added, her voice quivering. ‘You have no right…’

His mouth twisted unrepentantly. ‘Not even the droit de seigneur?’

‘You bought a house,’ she said. ‘I was not included in the price. Now, let me past.’

‘Only because Piers didn’t think of it.’ His voice was reflective, and he made no attempt to move. ‘But as you’ve raised the subject, Adrien, what value do you put on your services?’

She said slowly, hardly daring to hope, ‘Are you offering to pay for the work I’ve done?’

‘That would rather depend,’ he drawled. ‘You see, it occurs to me that this house lacks something. And so do I.’

She drew a deep breath. ‘You mean that it isn’t quite finished. But it wouldn’t take much…’

‘No,’ he said. ‘That isn’t what I mean at all.’

‘Then what?’ she asked defensively, hating the way his grey gaze held hers, yet somehow unable to look away. Or walk away.

‘It needs a mistress,’ he said softly. ‘And so do I. And you, my sweet Adrien, are the perfect candidate. So, maybe we can do a deal. What do you say?’

CHAPTER THREE

SHE said thickly, ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’

‘Do you see me laughing?’

No, she thought, swallowing. The grey eyes meeting hers in challenge were cool, direct—even insolent. The firm mouth was equally unsmiling. No—it seemed he was shockingly—incredibly—serious.

‘So you’re just adding insult to injury.’ She tried to laugh, but the sound choked in her throat. ‘Time hasn’t mellowed you, Chay. You’re still a bastard.’

He smiled. “‘Now, gods, stand up for bastards!’” he quoted softly. ‘However, I see myself more as a white knight riding to your rescue.’

‘Very chivalrous.’ Her voice bit.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m a businessman. You claim to be a businesswoman, and you’re in financial trouble. I’m offering you a lifeline.’ His gaze touched her parted lips and travelled down to her breasts. ‘A very personal loan,’ he added softly.

Adrien bit her lip. She said savagely, ‘Mr Davidson needs to learn some discretion.’

‘Mr Davidson didn’t tell me a thing.’ Chay propped a shoulder against the doorframe. ‘He didn’t have to. I could sense the shock waves as soon as I arrived. And when I was here earlier today, a plasterer and an electrician turned up waving major bills which had been refused payment. I’d make an educated guess that they’re just the tip of the iceberg. That you’re facing serious trouble.’

Adrien lifted her chin. ‘And if I am,’ she said curtly, ‘I’ll manage. I can survive without your particular brand of knight errantry.’

‘Then I wish you luck,’ Chay said silkily. ‘But I hope you’re not counting on a bank draft arriving from Brazil. You’d do better to rely on the National Lottery.’

‘You utter swine,’ she said unevenly. ‘You’ve got everything you’ve wanted, haven’t you? How you must be enjoying your moment of triumph.’

‘I’ve had to wait long enough,’ he said. ‘But they say that revenge is a dish best eaten cold.’

‘I hope it poisons you,’ she flung at him. ‘Now let me out of here.’

He straightened. Moved out of the doorway. ‘You’re not a prisoner,’ he pointed out mildly.

‘No,’ she said. ‘Nor do I intend to be, either.’

‘Do you imagine I’m going to keep you chained up like some sort of sex slave?’ He had the gall to sound amused. ‘What a vivid imagination you have, darling.’

‘Don’t you dare laugh at me.’ Her voice shook. ‘You can’t pretend what you’re suggesting is a normal arrangement.’

‘On the contrary, very little in your life would change.’ He sounded the soul of reason, she thought incredulously.

‘After all, you’re already living here,’ he went on.

‘That,’ she said swiftly, ‘was just a temporary convenience.’

‘Which would become a permanent one.’ The return was incisive. ‘But you’d have your debts paid, plus a free hand to finish the house exactly as you want, and staff to manage it for you. You’d go on running your business quite independently. And when I have guests you’d act as my hostess.’

‘And that’s all there is to it?’ Adrien enquired ironically.

‘No,’ he said equably. ‘My work takes me abroad a great deal. I’d expect you to accompany me sometimes. But not always.’ He paused. ‘I take it your passport’s in order?’

‘Of course,’ she said, staring at him. ‘And this conversation is totally surreal.’

‘Before commencing any project I like to establish the ground rules,’ he said silkily. ‘When I’m away, you’ll be free to come and go as you please. Entertain your own friends. Live your life.’

‘It sounds too good to be true,’ she said. ‘Which of course it is. Because when these business trips were over, you’d come back.’

‘Naturally.’ He was smiling faintly.

‘Expecting precisely what?’

‘You’re no longer a child, Adrien.’ There was a sudden harshness in his voice. ‘Or a romantic teenager, dreaming of first love. I’d expect you to fulfil your side of the deal.’

‘Just the idea,’ she said, ‘makes me physically sick.’

‘Once,’ he said slowly, ‘you didn’t feel like that.’

‘What do you mean?’ She stiffened defensively.

‘It was your birthday,’ he said. ‘You were eighteen, and you looked as if someone had lit stars behind your eyes. I wished you many happy returns of the day, and you came flying across the room and offered me your mouth to kiss. Or had you forgotten?’

There was a brief, loaded pause. Then, ‘A moment of weakness,’ she said. ‘And a long time ago.’

‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘So you do remember?’

His glance brushed her mouth in overt reminiscence, and she felt her skin warm suddenly.

She said between her teeth, ‘And before I discovered what a treacherous, money-grabbing sneak-thief you really were.’

‘Ouch,’ Chay said thoughtfully. ‘Well, at least neither of us will be embarking on this liaison with any illusions about each other. That bodes well for our future, don’t you think?’

‘You don’t want to know what I think. And, thanks to you, I don’t have a future.’

‘How do you reason that?’

She spread her hands, then realised there was an element of weakness in the gesture and let them fall to her sides instead.

‘You say I could live my life, but that’s rubbish. What kind of existence would I have, living here as your kept woman? Who the hell would want to know me under those circumstances?’

‘Get real,’ he said wearily. ‘You’re not some Victorian virgin, ruined by the wicked squire. What difference will it make to anyone?’

‘It will make a hell of a difference to me,’ she threw back at him.

‘You didn’t mind selling yourself to Piers Mendoza.’ The casual contempt in his voice cut through the uneasy turmoil of emotion within her, bringing only swift, searing anger burning to the surface.

She said, ‘Bastard,’ and her hand came up to slap him across the face.

But his fingers caught her wrist, not gently, before the blow could reach its target.

‘I see time hasn’t soothed that temper of yours,’ he remarked with a touch of grimness as he released her. ‘Keep the fires damped down, Adrien, and don’t trade on your gender. It won’t work.’

She rubbed her wrist, staring at him with resentful eyes. ‘I thought that was exactly what you wanted me to do.’

‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘But on my terms, not yours.’

‘Which I’m not prepared to meet. So, buy someone else to share your bed. Because I’m telling you to go to hell,’ she added fiercely.

He shrugged, unperturbed. ‘That’s your privilege, Adie. Go off—explore what other avenues you like. But don’t be surprised if they all lead back to me.’

‘I’m sure you’d like to think so,’ she said. ‘But if I have to degrade myself, I’d prefer to do it in my own way.’

‘As you wish.’ He paused. ‘My offer stands, but it has a time limit. So, if you decide to change your mind, don’t wait too long to tell me. I can be reached at the King’s Arms.’

‘Slumming at a hotel, Mr Haddon?’ Adrien asked with contempt. ‘I thought the new lord of the manor would have taken immediate possession.’

His glance went past her to the camp bed, standing forlorn and solitary beneath the window. His brows lifted mockingly. ‘On that, darling? I prefer comfort—and room to manoeuvre.’ He watched sudden colour invade her face, and laughed softly. ‘I’ll be waiting for your call.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Don’t hold your breath,’ she advised scornfully, and walked past him, out of the room.

He said, ‘You’ll be back.’

‘Never.’

‘If only,’ he continued, ‘to collect this bag you’ve packed with such care.’

Adrien swung round, mortified, to find he was holding it, his mouth curved in amusement.

‘Here,’ he said. ‘Catch.’ And tossed it to her.

She clutched it inelegantly, caught off-balance in more ways than one, then gave him one last fulminating look before turning and heading for the stairs.

Walk, she told herself savagely, as she descended to the hall. Don’t run. Don’t let him think for one minute that he’s got to you—even marginally.

But for all her bravado she was shaking when she got into the Jeep. She sat gripping the steering wheel until her hands ached, fighting for her self-control.

She thought, There must be something I can do. Oh, God, there just has to be…

Somehow she had to find a way out—a way of escape. But her immediate priority was to start the engine and get away. The last thing she wanted was to give Chay the satisfaction of finding her, sitting there as if she’d been turned to stone.

She drove home with immense care, using every atom of concentration she possessed. Not relaxing until she found herself turning the Jeep into the parking area at the rear of Listow Cottage. As she switched off the engine a small group of women came out of the workroom and walked past her, laughing and talking. When they spotted her, they gave a friendly wave.

And one day soon I’m going to have to tell them that they’re out of work, Adrien thought, feeling sick as she lifted a hand in response. As she climbed out wearily, a football bounced towards her, with Smudge running behind it. His small, rather pale face was alive with excitement.

‘Adie—Adie, guess what? We’re getting a puppy. Mum says we can go and choose it this weekend.’

Adrien paused, forcing her cold lips into a semblance of a smile. ‘Well—that’s terrific,’ she said, trying to ignore the sudden hollow feeling inside her.

Zelda had hesitantly asked a couple of weeks before if Adrien would mind her acquiring a dog.

‘Smudge would really love one,’ she’d said wistfully. ‘And so would I. Dad would never let me have a pet of any kind when I was little.’

‘I think it’s a great idea,’ Adrien had immediately approved. ‘Have you any idea about breeds?’

Zelda laughed. ‘I guess it’ll be strictly a Heinz,’ she’d said cheerfully. ‘They’ve got a couple of litters at the animal sanctuary that’ll be ready soon.’

I’ll have to talk to Zelda straightaway, Adrien thought now, her heart sinking. Warn her that she may not be able to stay on here. That the whole place could be repossessed.

Zelda’s door was standing ajar, so Adrien tapped and peeped round it, scenting the aroma of freshly ground coffee. Zelda was chopping vegetables at the table, but she looked up with a welcoming grin.

‘Hi, stranger. I saw Smudge nail you. It is still all right about the puppy?’

She waved Adrien to a chair, set a couple of mugs on the table, and checked the percolator.

It was an incredibly warm and welcoming kitchen, Adrien thought, looking round. Zelda had chosen rich earth tones to complement the stone-flagged floor, and homely pine units. Smudge’s paintings occupied places of honour on the terracotta walls, and several of them, Adrien saw with a pang, featured dogs.

Zelda had changed her own image too. The dark hair was now cut sleekly to her head, and she was wearing the black leggings and tunic that comprised her working gear. She looked sophisticated and relaxed, Adrien thought, a young woman in control of herself and her environment. But what would happen to her new-won confidence if she had to go back to the crowded family house and her father’s unceasing complaints and strictures?

And how would Smudge cope? He’d been a quiet, almost withdrawn little boy when Adrien had first met him. A child who’d never had his own space. Who’d not been allowed to play in the garden in case he damaged the prize-winning begonias that his grandfather exhibited with such pride at the local flower show. A kid whose every word and action had been subject to restriction.

‘Are you OK?’ Zelda was staring at her. ‘You’re very quiet.’

Adrien smiled constrainedly. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’

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