her. ‘He’s decided to shower and change before dinner.’
‘Well, at least he is joining us.’ Sam grimaced.
‘Of course he is.’ Gideon’s grin widened. ‘I only had to point out the advantages of having such a lovely and accomplished woman join us for dinner for him to agree to that.’
Oh, and what was she? Molly wondered disgruntledly. Chopped liver?
Probably, as far as Gideon was concerned, she accepted heavily.
Sam’s actress sister—at the moment splattered with grease from basting the duck, her face flushed from the Aga, her hair frizzed up from the heat—couldn’t really compare to someone as coolly beautiful and caring as the doctor she had met earlier today.
Rather depressing, really, she acknowledged ruefully. Even if it was true.
‘You two lovely ladies apart, of course,’ Gideon added dryly. Rather too tardily, as far as Molly was concerned.
‘Too late, I’m afraid, Gideon,’ Crys told him laughingly, turning to link her arm with Molly’s. ‘Let’s all have a bit of fun and dress up for dinner. After all, it is Christmas. Molly, what say you and I leave these two men to lay the table while we go upstairs and change before dinner?’
‘Sounds good to me!’ Molly grinned conspiratorially, deliberately putting her nose in the air as the two of them swept out of the room.
Crys gave a rueful shake of her head as they climbed the wide staircase together. ‘So tell me, what’s really been happening today while Sam and I have been upstairs with Peter?’ she prompted dryly.
‘Not a lot,’ Molly said lightly, deliberately keeping her expression deadpan.
‘Liar!’ Her friend laughed softly. ‘You and Gideon seem to be getting along together?’
‘If by that you mean I haven’t actually hit him over the head with one of your saucepans yet, then, yes, I suppose that we are,’ Molly answered disgustedly.
Crys’s chuckle deepened. ‘Gideon is a love.’
Molly almost stumbled up the last stair in surprise at this statement. A love? Gideon?
‘Well, I think he is,’ Crys added with a frown of consternation at Molly’s reaction to this statement.
‘Probably because he is, as far as you’re concerned,’ she dismissed. ‘I’m a completely different matter, I’m afraid. Perhaps it’s just that he doesn’t approve of actresses,’ she added, as Crys looked less than happy.
‘But he did come and dispose of that spider for you last night,’ Crys reminded her cajolingly.
‘Crys, it’s a mistake for you to try to matchmake between Gideon and me.’ Molly didn’t even attempt to correct her friend concerning Gideon’s ‘disposal’ of the spider. What was the point? Probably she and Gideon would never meet again after this Christmas holiday. There was no point in upsetting Crys’s friendship with Gideon just because she found him a sadistic swine.
‘Sam’s been talking to you,’ Crys guessed indignantly.
‘Not at all,’ Molly said easily, having no intention of implicating Sam in any of this. ‘I would have to be blind not to see what you’re up to,’ she told her friend affectionately. ‘But just stop, hmm? I’m not Gideon’s type. And he certainly isn’t mine,’ she added more forcefully. ‘I’ve never been attracted to that arrogant, macho type.’
‘But—’
‘Excuse me, ladies,’ cut in an icy-cold voice from behind them. ‘But you appear to be blocking the stairway,’ Gideon added pointedly as he stood on the step behind them.
Molly closed her eyes briefly before looking up at the ceiling above them, all other thoughts fleeing as she saw the yellow rose painted in the dome above. James’s trade mark…
She became completely still. She had forgotten that she had recommended James’s work to Sam when he’d been looking for an interior designer to come here four years ago, but that yellow rose above them in the domed ceiling reminded her all too forcefully of the friend, husband and brother the three of them had all lost.
For a few seconds everything seemed to stop, including time and sound, and a mellow calm settled over her before she once again became aware of exactly where she was. And whom she was with.
She turned sharply, hoping that Crys hadn’t seen her brief distraction, or the reason for it; the last thing she wanted to do at this time was to remind Crys of the husband she had loved and lost. But she needn’t have worried; Crys had been distracted herself by one of the Christmas decorations on the stair banister that had come loose, and she was attempting to fix it back in place.
Not so Gideon, Molly saw with dismay. His jaw was set rigidly, blue eyes glittering with fury as he glanced up at the domed ceiling and then back at her.
Molly stepped away. ‘I’ll see you both later,’ she managed to murmur before hurrying up another set of stairs to her bedroom on the third floor.
She closed the door thankfully behind her, knowing it was pointless even trying to explain to Gideon what had happened just now; he didn’t seem to believe a word she said anyway. And especially when it came to the subject of his brother James…
She was almost knocked off her feet as the door was pushed open behind her, and regained her balance to turn and see Gideon silhouetted in the doorway.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he snapped furiously, moving into the room to close the door behind him with barely suppressed violence, his eyes glittering dangerously as he looked across at her with unconcealed contempt.
Molly swallowed hard. She could try pretending she had no idea what he was talking about, but she had a feeling that would just make him angrier still. If that were possible! But at the same time she knew he wasn’t going to believe her if she told him the truth—that just for a moment, for a very brief moment, she had felt a closeness with James, an emotional affinity, and had mentally assured him that Crys was happy again now, that Sam would take care of her always.
If she even tried to put that into words she knew how stupid it would sound.
And to someone like Gideon, who seemed to enjoy thinking the worst of her, it would sound so much worse than stupid…
‘Well?’ he bit out harshly, a nerve pulsing in his jaw, hands clenched at his sides.
Molly drew in a deep breath. What could she say? How could she explain?
‘How dare you moon about like some lovesick idiot?’ Gideon rasped before she could formulate any sort of reply. ‘James is dead,’ he snapped viciously, before stepping forward to grasp her arms painfully in his hands and shake her slightly. ‘Dead—don’t you understand? When are you all going to accept that!’
Molly felt the colour drain from her cheeks at the stark brutality of his words. She knew James was dead, they all did, but that was no reason not to think of him sometimes. Especially now. Christmas was like that—a time of warmth and joy, but also a time to think of loved ones who were no longer here.
She
