Distracted by her Virtue. Maggie Cox
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His hopes lifting, Jarrett looked forward even more to seeing Sophia again. But the get-together had been underway for almost two hours and he was getting bored. There was only so much inconsequential chitchat he could bear, even for his sister, and there was still no sign of Sophia, although Beth assured him that she’d rung to say she was coming.
He was just debating whether to go up to the house and check to see if anything was amiss when the doorbell’s familiar cheery melody chimed through the hallway. As luck would have it he was standing in the vicinity, endeavouring to listen attentively to his brother-in-law Paul’s enthusiastic description of the new car he was going to buy. Privately he thought it was a bad choice, and he had just been thinking he would have a quiet word with Beth about it so she could nudge him in the direction of something better when the doorbell had rung. Without a flicker of guilt he moved down the hall to answer it. His body was already tightening warmly in anticipation of seeing High Ridge’s lovely new owner again.
‘Hi … I’m sorry if we’re a little late.’
The statement came out in a breathless rush, and Sophia Markham’s apologetic smile as he opened the door rendered him almost speechless because it was so bewitching.
Waiting patiently for his response, she drew Charlie protectively against her side. It wasn’t hard to see that the child meant the sun, moon and stars to her.
Staring at her as she stood before him, in faded jeans, colourful knitted tank-top and long unbuttoned navy blue cardigan, he likened her appearance to a breath of longed-for fresh air that a prisoner might greedily gulp down when he’d been freed from solitary confinement. Today her pretty dark hair hadn’t been left loose to flow down over her shoulders—instead she’d fashioned it into two very becoming braids. In contrast, the other women at the small party had seized the opportunity to show off their wardrobes and were dressed up to the nines. Personally, Jarrett thought such a brash display was unnecessary and over the top. He himself had dressed in a casual white shirt and black jeans faded almost to grey—his usual mode of attire when he wasn’t at work—and he was very glad to see that Sophia had opted to do the same.
‘Don’t worry about being late … Beth will kill me for saying it, but you’ve haven’t exactly missed anything. It’s good to see you.’ After speaking at last, he grinned, then leaned down to squeeze Charlie’s shoulder. ‘It’s good to see you too, Charlie. Why don’t you both come inside?’
‘Hello, there, I’m Paul Harvey—Beth’s husband. How nice to meet you at last, Ms Markham.’
‘And you, Mr Harvey.’
‘Call me Paul.’
Sophia didn’t invite the other man to call her by her first name in return, Jarrett noticed, silently approving. He had no earthly right to feel so possessive towards her, but for reasons he couldn’t begin to explain he did.
‘Let’s go and meet everyone,’ he suggested, gesturing for her and her son to precede him.
The conversations that littered the air as they walked in abruptly ceased as Jarrett escorted Sophia into the stylishly furnished living room. Even the softly playing jazz emanating from the music centre seemed to grow quieter. His sister Beth immediately peeled herself away from the trio of women she’d been deep in conversation with and presented herself to her new guest with an enthusiastic handshake, followed by the characteristic peck on the cheek with which she greeted all her friends.
‘Hi, Sophia, I’m Beth Harvey—Jarrett’s sister. I had no idea you’d be so pretty! I’m so glad you could come … your son too. Jarrett tells me that his name is Charlie?’
‘That’s right.’
Inside that perfectly decorated room, with its carefully chosen, strategically arranged amalgam of modern and antique furniture, surrounded by a bunch of curious strangers, Sophia looked ill at ease. Her coral lips were pursed together tightly as she listened to his sister gush, and Jarrett intuited that she’d rather be anywhere else but here. He was intrigued to know what had persuaded her to put in an appearance at all. Clearly she’d wrestled with the decision for some time—why else had she been so late in arriving? Something else struck him. He’d always regarded the sister who shared his own dramatic colouring of ebony hair and blue eyes as unquestionably pretty. However, next to Sophia’s finely drawn beautiful features and bewitching emerald eyes Beth seemed merely attractive.
Frowning, because he felt such an opinion somehow betrayed his loyalty to his sibling, he gently touched his palm to her back in the fitted red dress she was wearing, as if to signal filial support.
‘Say hello, Charlie,’ Sophia quietly instructed her son.
Bestowing upon Jarrett a gap-toothed grin, the charming small boy with his mop of luxuriant dark curls focused his gaze on him alone. ‘Hello, Mr Gaskill. Can I see your sister’s dog? Where is he?’
‘You’ve met Dylan before, have you?’ Beth dropped down so that she was level with Charlie.
The boy was initially wary, but when she reached for his hand and gently held it for a moment, smiling at him with her great blue eyes, he seemed to relax. ‘Yes … we were down by the stream so that my mum could take some photographs for her work. That’s when we saw Mr Gaskill and your dog.’
‘Well, if you’d like to see him again he’s out in the garden, sitting outside his kennel.’
‘What’s a kennel?’
‘It’s like a small house for a dog,’ Jarrett told him with a teasing wink.
Charlie spun round to gaze up at his mother. ‘Can I, Mummy? Can I go out to see Dylan?’
Such an innocent and natural request shouldn’t put panic into Sophia’s lovely green eyes, but disturbingly Jarrett registered that it did. She even laid a hand possessively on Charlie’s shoulder as if to prevent him from leaving.
‘Where is the garden?’ she immediately quizzed Beth.
‘Just out there through the patio doors … Don’t worry, it’s nowhere near big enough for him to get lost in.’
Biting down on her lip, Sophia was still undoubtedly hesitant. ‘I’m sure that’s true. There isn’t a gate at the back he can get out of?’
‘No, there isn’t.’
‘That’s good. Our own garden is a bit like a forest, and I have to keep a close eye on Charlie when he goes out there to play. I suppose I’ve just got into the habit of making sure he’s secure.’ She coloured, as if regretting calling attention to her own hardly humble abode. ‘It needs a lot of work doing to it, I’m afraid.’ she murmured. ‘The weeds have gone absolutely rampant in all this rain we’ve been having, but