pointed out practically.
Eve shook her head very firmly. ‘You know very well that I never travel.’
Sophy’s mouth tightened. ‘That’s only because you’ve allowed——’
‘Besides,’ she cut in determinedly, wanting to avoid Sophy saying anything further that was detrimental to Paul, knowing the other woman usually lost no opportunity to criticise him, even if it wasn’t always valid.
She simply didn’t want to travel, it certainly had nothing whatsoever to do with Paul’s aversion to her becoming involved with the artistic set that could become such a threat to their privacy.
‘I’m just too busy working with my grandmother on the arrangements for the wedding in September.’ Not that that was really taking up so much of her time; it was only going to be a small affair, with close family and a few friends.
And, if there was still this animosity between Paul and Sophy at that time, she had the feeling he was going to insist Sophy and Patrick not be included in the latter. It was going to be a serious bone of contention between them.
Sophy arched mocking brows. ‘Is September when Paul has decided the wedding is to be?’
She gave a weary sigh. ‘That’s when we have decided it’s to be, yes.’
The other woman gave a sceptical snort. ‘But I have no doubt the date fits in very nicely with Paul’s schedule.’
‘Well, of course it does.’ Eve was becoming more than a little irritable now. ‘As the wedding can really be at any time, there would be no point in arranging it for when it’s completely inconvenient for everyone involved.’
‘September suits you too, does it?’ Sophy derided drily.
‘Sophy, I know you and Paul don’t get on, but——’
‘That has to be the understatement of the year!’ the other woman scorned.
‘—but he is the man I love and intend to marry,’ Eve finished firmly, glaring fiercely.
Sophy was unaffected by that glare. ‘More’s the pity.’ She looked totally disheartened by the prospect, even lacking her usual grace of movement as she dropped down into an armchair. ‘OK, I’m sorry.’ She waved an elegantly long hand dismissively. ‘But the man can be so bloody-minded.’
Eve smiled without rancour at this familiar accusation. ‘You just don’t like him because he doesn’t readily agree with what you want.’
Sophy drew in a ragged breath, raising sleepy lids. ‘Is that what you think?’ she frowned.
‘I know it,’ she chided indulgently.
Her friend just looked at her for several seconds. ‘If you say so,’ she finally sighed. ‘So what are the chances of the two of you coming to dinner this week?’ she drawled in a bored voice.
Eve smiled. ‘You didn’t have to come all the way over here to ask me that; a telephone call would have sufficed,’ she said tauntingly.
Sophy had too much self-confidence and outright nerve to look even the slightest bit disconcerted by the sarcasm. ‘I wasn’t about to waste this opportunity to talk to you about the exhibition we want to set up for you this winter——’
‘I didn’t think you needed an excuse to do that,’ she teased, moving to look out of the huge studio window, loving, as always, the utter peace and tranquillity that met her gaze. The work she had been able to have done on this old family house was the biggest reward she had received from her painting, and from the legacy she had had from her parents on her twenty-first birthday that had allowed her to concentrate fully on that career that had brought so many rewards.
Her gaze softened with love as her grandmother glanced up from where she was working on her rose garden to see her standing at the third-floor window, and the old lady straightened to wave happily in the sunshine.
Her grandmother had been the most important person in Eve’s life after the death of her parents twenty years ago, when Eve was only six and Evelyn Ashton was already in her early fifties.
The elderly woman hadn’t hesitated about taking over the care of both of her young granddaughters after the road accident that had robbed her of her only two children, her son and his wife, and her daughter and her husband, the four returning from a weekend in the country when their car had lost control and gone over the side of a bridge. Four-year-old Marina and six-year-old Eve had been left orphaned after the crash.
Ashton House had become a haven for Eve and her young cousin, and Evelyn Ashton a source of never-ending love. It hadn’t been until Eve was in her teens that she had realised her only two children’s lives wasn’t the only price her grandmother had paid all those years ago; because of some unsound investments on the family’s behalf by her only son, investments he hadn’t had time to correct before his untimely death, everything but the family home had been sacrificed, too. And the house, far from being the palatial place that Eve had always imagined it to be, was run-down and very much in need of repair.
The money her parents had left in trust for her until she was twenty-one hadn’t been enough to carry out all the work that needed doing, and her grandmother had insisted that she use part of it to pursue the career that might otherwise have been denied her. The first thing she had done when she’d begun to earn money from her paintings was to finish restoring the house to its former glory; Ashton House was now the home her grandmother could be proud of.
‘She’s a wonderful old lady,’ Sophy murmured appreciatively at Eve’s side, having noiselessly crossed the room to join her at the window.
Eve glanced round at her. ‘I wouldn’t let her hear the old part of that statement,’ she said drily.
The other woman grimaced. ‘Now there’s someone I do respect.’
Eve continued to gaze fondly at her grandmother. ‘She’s particularly happy at the moment because Marina is coming home for a few days this weekend.’
‘Your lovely cousin has found time from her busy social schedule to visit the woman who brought her up?’ Sophy said scoffingly. ‘How nice!’
Eve sighed, shaking her head. ‘There aren’t many people you do like, are there?’
The other woman shrugged. ‘I like you, I like your grandmother, I even like Adam Gardener—and not just because of the good he could do your career and my gallery,’ she drawled, without apology for her earlier remarks about Eve’s cousin. ‘I have little time for fools.’ She gave a graceful shrug.
The mention of his name had brought the image of Adam Gardener to mind; somehow she had the feeling he didn’t suffer fools gladly, either. He certainly hadn’t suffered what he considered to be her foolish behaviour without comment!
‘Dinner tomorrow,’ Sophy announced briskly. ‘Can that be arranged? I know you have to talk it over with Paul before making any definite arrangements, but are there any other plans he can put up as a valid excuse not to come?’
‘I doubt it,’ Eve said drily. ‘But of course, I’ll have to check with him first.’
‘I never expected anything
