got the Spode dinner service, and an entire boxful of household linen, not to mention ornaments, and Mr Lionel’s snuff box collection…’
Joanna groaned inwardly. She said quietly, concealing her private dismay, ‘Mrs Elcott has permission to take the things, Grace. Mr Gabriel said she could have whatever she wanted. I—I discussed it with him earlier.’
Although I didn’t expect her to be quite so quick off the mark, she amended inwardly. Or so thorough.
‘And I think you’ll find everything’s only on loan. The whole lot will be coming back to the Manor in due course.’ Along with its new mistress, she added silently.
‘Just as you say, of course, madam.’ Mrs Ashby sounded doubtful. She paused. ‘I understand neither Mrs Elcott nor Mr Verne will be dining at home this evening. Is there anything special you’d like?’
Just for a moment Joanna wondered if this was Grace Ashby’s way of telling her that she knew what was going on, but a swift look at the other woman’s patient, rather puzzled expression convinced her that she was wrong.
She said with an effort, ‘I’m not all that hungry. Some clear soup and grilled fish would be fine.’
She bathed and changed into a plain grey woollen dress, long-sleeved and full-skirted. Its severe neckline needed some enhancement, she decided, taking out the pearls Lionel had once given her and clasping them round her throat.
Her solitary dinner over, she took her coffee into the drawing room. She switched on the television but found herself unable to concentrate on anything being offered on any of the channels.
She thought, I’ll play some music.
Lionel had not been fond of what he termed ‘gadgets’, but he had invested in a handsome hi-fi system with a CD player, and they’d spent many companionable evenings listening to their favourite works.
Joanna made her selection from the rack of discs, and a moment later the emotive chords of Elgar’s ‘Cello Concerto’ filled the room.
Curled up in a corner of the sofa, eyes closed, Joanna gave herself up to the poignant, dramatic flow of the music.
The final movement was reaching its climax when instinct told her that she was being watched.
Her heart began to thud. Slowly she opened her eyes and turned her head, to see Gabriel lounging in the doorway.
Joanna sat up hurriedly, searching for something—anything—to say, when she saw him raise a quiet finger to his lips, indicating that they should both be silent until the music was over.
When the room relaxed into stillness again, he came forward. He was smiling faintly, his brows drawn together in a slight frown. ‘Do you always listen to such sad music when you’re alone?’
‘I don’t know,’ she returned stiltedly. ‘Solitary evenings are a comparative novelty.’ She paused. ‘And I don’t find it all that sad. I think it’s powerful and—exhilarating.’
‘I bow to your superior wisdom.’ Gabriel removed his jacket and tossed it onto a chair, before seating himself opposite to her. He met her startled look levelly. ‘Is something the matter?’
‘I—I wasn’t expecting you back so early.’
His frown deepened. ‘Did I say I was going to be late? I don’t think so.’ He slanted a faint smile at her. ‘Anyway, it means we can enjoy some domestic bliss together. Why don’t you put some more music on?’
She said stiffly, ‘Actually, I was on the point of going to bed.’
‘Really?’ His brows rose sceptically. ‘Now, I got the impression that you were totally relaxed, lost in some world of your own.’
‘Appearances,’ she said, ‘can be deceptive.’
‘Ain’t that the truth?’ he murmured. ‘But please don’t let me drive you away. You never know. Music might prove the common ground where we can meet without quarrelling.’
‘I doubt that exists.’
‘Well, we can try. And for starters you could stop being so uptight.’
Joanna bit her lip. ‘I’m—sorry. As I said—you startled me.’
‘I don’t know why. And I’m afraid, darling, you’re just going to have to live with my arrivals and departures.’
She said coolly, ‘I find the departures easier to handle.’
His mouth twisted, but he made no immediate reply. Instead the tawny eyes began a comprehensive survey of her, from the tendrils of soft hair brushing her flushed face, pausing momentarily at her exposed throat, then down over the cling of the grey wool dress to her rounded breasts, to the soft folds of the skirt outlining the slender length of her thighs. And back to her throat again.
He said softly, ‘You look like a ghost—a little grey ghost. But my mother’s pearls look good on you.’
‘Your mother’s?’ Joanna’s hand flew defensively to the smooth string. ‘I—I didn’t know—Lionel didn’t tell me…’
He shrugged. ‘Why should he? He gave them to her when I was born. Under ordinary circumstances they’d have come to you anyway—probably to mark the birth of our own first child,’ he added unsmilingly.
Her flush deepened. ‘Then I’m wearing them under false pretences.’ She put her hands up, fumbling for the clasp. ‘You can have them back now.’
‘Leave them,’ he directed briefly. ‘Pearls should be worn, or they lose their lustre.’
‘My—successor might not agree with you.’ Cynthia, she knew, had always coveted the necklace.
‘Let that be my problem, rather than yours.’ His tone brooked no further argument. ‘Consider them on loan, if you wish.’
‘After all, what’s one more thing among so many?’ Joanna muttered.
‘I beg your pardon?’ His brows lifted.
She said wearily, ‘It doesn’t matter,’ wondering at the same time if he’d gone to Larkspur Cottage to oversee the disposal of his property.
‘I’m going to have a nightcap.’ Gabriel rose and went across to the antique corner cupboard. ‘Care to join me?’
Prudence suggested she should refuse and go. On the other hand, she didn’t want to seem altogether churlish…
She said sedately, ‘Thank you. I’ll have a brandy.’
He nodded. ‘Then choose some more music for us to drink to.’
Joanna went reluctantly to the CD player. If he imagined she was going to allow this to develop into a cosy evening tête à tête, then he could think again. Just because his rendezvous with Cynthia clearly hadn’t worked out as planned…
A lot of the music was frankly too overtly romantic for the occasion. I need drama rather than passion,
