happening now! ‘My mother will hate me!’ Her prevarication was no prevarication at all. No way was she going to deny herself this opportunity of a few hours of his company. ‘I’ll let you be the one to tell her she’s peeled too many potatoes while I go and get cleaned up.’
Taking Farne indoors, she left him talking with her mother while she went sedately up the stairs—and then positively flew around getting ready.
Fifteen minutes later, wearing a dress of a delicate nasturtium colour, Karrie—just as sedately—returned down the stairs and went into the drawing room. Farne got to his feet. ‘Hope I didn’t keep you too long,’ she smiled, having completed the quickest scrub-up and change on record. He made no answer—but his glance was appreciative.
‘I’ll see you when I see you,’ Margery Dalton said, knowing full well that her daughter had an appointment elsewhere for tea.
Karrie had been to The Feathers Hotel quite a few times before. But this time, lunching with Farne, everything seemed so much better, brighter—magical.
Again she enjoyed his company. He was amusing, charming, attentive—and gave every appearance of seeming to enjoy being with her as much as she enjoyed being with him. Oh, she did so hope it was true, that it wasn’t all part and parcel of his natural charm—and that he wasn’t like this with everybody. In short—she wanted to be special to him.
After lunch she excused herself and went to the ladies’ room to freshen up and to give herself something of a talking to. For goodness’ sake—special to him! They hadn’t known each other a week! She had been out with him twice. Twice—that was all—and she wanted him to regard her as someone special in his life!
Grief—he was a man about town. He could have his pick of just about anybody. What was so special about her? Karrie just then had a blindingly clear—and unwanted—mental picture of standing in front of Farne, her hair pulled back in two rubber bands, dirt everywhere—and also a picture of the polished and elegant women she was sure he more normally went out with. Special—get real!
Pinning a smile on her face, she left the ladies’ room to join him. They went out to the hotel’s car park and, striving hard not to think that the drive to her home would take only about twenty minutes—less than that if Farne happened to put his foot down on the accelerator—Karrie got into the passenger seat.
More joy was hers, however, when Farne forgot to turn left at a road junction. ‘You’ve missed the turn,’ she felt honour-bound to point out.
‘I thought we might go and take a look at the river,’ he replied. Her heart rejoiced. ‘That is, unless you’re desperate to get back?’
She was desperate to stay exactly where she was, with him. ‘It’s very pleasant down by the river,’ she answered, desperate not to be pushy, but having a hard time not grabbing at every opportunity to be in his company.
In no time they were in open countryside. When Farne pulled over by a footbridge and asked, ‘Fancy a stroll around?’ she thought it a splendid idea.
They walked over the bridge, and, keeping by the water’s edge, across a couple of fields. And it was in one particularly grassy area that Farne commented, ‘If we’d had a car rug we could sit down.’
‘You city boys are too sissy for words,’ Karrie, scorned, and was seated on the grass before it dawned on her that was exactly what Farne had intended she should do. ‘You’re too smart for me!’ she accused, but he only grinned and joined her. For the next hour they seemed to amicably fall into a discussion on any subject that happened to crop up. Music, books, ski-ing. She didn’t know how ski-ing had got in there, but it had; everything was just so relaxed and easy between them, somehow.
They both seemed to have gone from sitting to resting, lying on their elbows as they watched a couple of swans majestically glide by, when suddenly Karrie became aware that Farne was not watching the birds. He had turned and was looking at her.
‘You’re very lovely,’ he murmured quietly—and all at once her heart was rushing like an express train. There was something in his look, something in the very air that seemed to tell her that Farne wanted to kiss her. Well, that was all right by her, she wanted to kiss him too.
His head came nearer. He looked deep into her eyes, giving her every opportunity to back away. She smiled a gentle smile—and he needed no further encouragement.
Gently he took her into his arms, moving her unresisting form until they were lying together on the grass. Unhurriedly, his lips met hers in a lingering tender kiss, and it was the most wonderful experience she had ever known. Never had she known such tenderness, and, as her heart started to pound, Karrie knew that Farne Maitland was the love of her life. She was no longer falling in love with him. She did love him, was in love with him, and nothing was ever going to change that.
When their kiss ended Karrie was left struggling to make sense of what had happened to her. She moved a little way away from him, not how she wanted to move at all, but some instinct was taking over from the sudden confusion she found herself in. All she was clear about was that this would be the last she would see of Farne if he gained so much as a glimpse of her feelings for him.
She sat up, hugging her arms around her knees, as she tried with all she had to recover from his wonderful kiss—and the certain knowledge of what was in her heart.
‘What’s wrong, Karrie?’ Oh, heavens—gauche, did she say? He was so quick, able to spot a mile off that something was bothering her. Yet she couldn’t find an answer to give him. ‘I’ve offended you?’ he asked, his tone quiet, concerned.
She shook her head. I...” she said, but couldn’t bear that he should think she found his kiss offensive. ‘To be honest,’ she began, ‘that ranks as one of the nicest kisses I’ve known.’
She was aware that Farne was sitting up too. Then she felt his hand come to her face, and gently he turned her so he could see into her eyes. The concern in his voice was reflected in his eyes, though there was a twinkle there too as he asked politely, ‘Perhaps you’d care for another?’
Laughter bubbled up inside her. ‘Thank you very much all the same,’ she answered prettily, ‘but I shall be having my tea soon.’ She saw his mouth start to tweak up at the corners, and stared for a moment or two in total fascination. Then suddenly that word ‘tea’ started to get through to her, and, ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed.
‘Oh?’ Farne queried.
‘I’ve got to go home,’ Karrie said quickly. ‘Travis is expecting...’
‘Who the hell’s Travis?’
Karrie blinked. What had happened to his concern, that twinkling in Farne’s eyes? All there was now was out-and-out aggression! But she loved him too much to be able to contemplate quarrelling with him.
‘Our first row!’ she mocked, feeling wretched and anxious, but determined to laugh him out of whatever was bugging him.
He did look a shade amused, she was glad to see, but, albeit with his aggressiveness under control, he still wanted to know, ‘So who’s Travis?’
Karrie stared at him. Farne knew she was an only child, and had no brother, so he must realise that Travis was either a cousin or man-friend. Surely he wasn’t angry that she had a male friend! Her mouth went dry at the thought that Farne might be just the tiniest bit—jealous. Oh, for goodness’ sake—as if!
