hissed, her eyes blazing as she confronted Victor Mason on the door step.
‘Charming welcome,’ he said, adding with a huge grin, ‘am I allowed in, or shall I be on my merry way?’
‘Of course you’re allowed in,’ Katharine cried, and fearing he was about to depart she quickly snatched at the sleeve of the trench coat thrown casually over his shoulders, and drew him towards her possessively.
Victor turned to his driver, who hovered on the step next to him, holding a large black umbrella over them both. ‘I guess I’ll be a couple of hours or so, Gus. That is if I don’t get thrown out on my rear end before then. You can mosey off for a while. I’ll see you later. Have fun.’ His mouth twitched. ‘But don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’
‘Right you are, Mr Mason,’ Gus responded, and retreated to the car as Victor stepped inside the house.
‘Well, at least he’s stopped calling you Guv, thank heavens,’ Katharine remarked.
Victor threw her a swift, amused look, chuckled softly and said, ‘Only in front of people. When we’re alone he still calls me Guvnor. I don’t mind. In fact, I like it.’ He thrust a package at her, winked theatrically and declared ‘Beware of Italians bearing dubious gifts.’
Katharine accepted the package in grudging silence. She was not so easily placated and the tension was still flaring within her. In consequence, she was a little on edge and her patience had worn thin. There was a cold silence, during which she continued to glare at him, and then she said, ‘I thought you weren’t coming. You’re very late. Abominably late. You’ve heard of the telephone haven’t you? It’s a small instrument that enables you to communicate between two points –’
He cut in with a throaty laugh. ‘Save me the sarcasm, honey.’ Shrugging off the trench coat, he glanced around. ‘Where shall I put this?’
Katharine nodded in the direction of the hall cupboard. ‘In there.’ She looked down at the package she was holding. ‘What is this, anyway?’
‘A peace offering. Champagne. Pink champagne.’
‘Pink! Now I know what you mean by dubious,’ she retorted.
‘My, my, we are being gracious tonight,’ Victor said. But he did not seem in the least put out by her scathing words or her frosty manner. In fact, he appeared sanguine, and his voice was even as he said, ‘Look, honey, I’m sorry, I really am. The delay was unavoidable. I had to wait for a call from the Coast. An important business call. Come on, Katharine, give a guy a break.’
His smile was so sincere, and he sounded so genuinely apologetic that Katharine found herself smiling back at him. She was also shrewdly aware that it would be foolish to antagonize Victor, and by so doing put her assiduously-made plans into certain jeopardy. Need her he well might, but his goodwill was absolutely crucial to her, and since he had finally made an appearance her troubling doubts about him were subsiding, were replaced by the optimistic belief that he had not reneged on his promise to her. And so she softened her manner and her chameleon-like ability to present a different visage went into immediate play. The smile became infinitely more luminous and beguiling and the turquoise eyes were instantaneously veiled with affectionate lights.
‘I’m sorry too,’ she told him. ‘I didn’t mean to sound so sharp, but the English are very peculiar about time and the proper form and all that, as I’ve mentioned to you before.’ She returned the package to him. ‘And it was very sweet of you to bring this. Truly. But I think it would be more appropriate if you gave it to your hostess. I know she’ll appreciate your thoughtfulness. Now, come on, my darling, we’re wasting time. Let’s go in.’
Victor tucked the bottle under his arm with a jaunty flourish, glanced at himself in the Georgian mirror, adjusted his tie, and said, ‘I’m all yours, honey. Lead the way.’
Kim and Francesca stopped talking when Victor and Katharine walked into the drawing room, and Victor saw two pairs of eyes focused on him intently and with enormous interest. Considering he was a world-famous film star, and had been for a number of years, he was not unaccustomed to this kind of fixed and curious scrutiny, for everyone had their own vision of him, which was not always compatible with the man he truly was.
But what brought him up short and filled him with amazement was his consciousness of the girl in grey, seated near the fireplace, who was now slowly rising. Like a brilliant lodestar she drew him magnetically towards her, and he felt a need, indeed a compulsion, to rush over to her, was filled with an urgency not only to meet her, but to know every facet of her. He had no desire to appear foolish, even immature, and he realized, too, that this kind of behaviour would be incorrect and a rank display of that ‘bad form’ the British, and Katharine, were always muttering about. Nor did he have any intention of giving Katharine the opportunity to lecture him about his manners. Before he could take another step, the young man next to her, obviously Katharine’s boyfriend, Kim, was hurrying forward, smiling broadly.
Kimgrasped Victor’s hand. ‘I’m Kim Cunningham. Delighted you could come.’
‘So am I,’ Victor replied, shaking Kim’s hand vigorously. And he apologized and again explained his reason for being late.
‘Oh, please don’t give it another thought,’ Kim exclaimed. He grinned. ‘We’ve been very cosy here, guzzling champagne and chatting. Now, do come and meet my sister, and then I’ll get you a drink. What do you prefer? Champagne, or something else, perhaps?’
‘I’d like Scotch-on-the-rocks with a splash of soda, please.’
Kim took hold of Victor’s arm and propelled him across the room to the fireplace. ‘This is Francesca,’ he said, and, after bestowing a bright smile on them, he disappeared in the direction of the drinks chest to pour a Scotch for Victor.
‘How nice to meet you, Mr Mason,’ Francesca said.
Their hands met and held and their eyes locked, and simultaneously they exchanged a startled glance. Looking down into the delicate face upturned to him, Victor saw the shining amber-flecked eyes widen and fill with the astonishment he himself was feeling. A tremulous smile touched her mouth briefly, and was gone. I’ve never met her before, but I recognize her, he thought with incredulity. I know her. I’ve always known her, somewhere deep in my heart and soul. This strange and surprising knowledge shook him, and momentarily he was thrown off balance.
Being adroit, he swiftly pulled himself together. ‘I’m pleased to meet you too, Lady Francesca,’ he said with a slow lazy smile, but his black eyes were serious and searching, and his gaze remained unswervingly on her face.
‘Oh please, do call me Francesca.’ Two faint spots of colour stained her ivory cheeks.
‘I’ll be glad to, if you’ll call me Victor.’
She nodded and gently extracted her hand, which he was still holding tightly, and stepping back, she lowered herself into the chair. Victor remembered the package under his arm, bent forward and handed it to her, instantly wishing it were something more personal, more appropriate like – like an armful of fragile white May lilac, fragrant after a drenching of spring rain. Yes, lilac was the ideal flower for her. It suited her delicacy and freshness. He said, ‘I almost forgot. This is for you.’
Francesca looked up at him, surprised. ‘Why thank you. How very kind.’ She began to unwrap it, her head bent, her fingers moving slowly, and she wondered why she was suddenly trembling internally, not recognizing the dynamic chemistry
