again. ‘On the contrary, he’s only too ready to accept what he believes is his responsibility, and do the right thing.’
‘You mean…marriage?’
‘Yes.’
‘But obviously you don’t agree?’
‘He’s only just twenty-two. The last thing he needs at this juncture is being lumbered with a wife and family.’
‘I’d think him old enough to decide that for himself.’
The grey eyes were unrelenting. ‘Old enough, maybe; sensible enough, definitely not. Anyway, it isn’t just his future I’m concerned about. My father’s already suffered one stroke. A shotgun wedding would just about finish him off completely.’
Claire made no attempt to offer meaningless sympathy. ‘Do I take it you’re the only one of the family your brother has confided in so far?’ she got out.
‘That’s right,’ Ross confirmed. ‘He only told me about it a couple of hours ago. I decided it best to tackle you here on your own rather than come to the house.’
‘Hoping for what?’ she demanded, with a curl of her own lip. ‘You’ve more or less accused my sister of being a promiscuous little tart. Did you expect me to confirm it for you?’
His face darkened, lips compressing. ‘You’re putting words into my mouth.’
‘I don’t think so. You’ve made your opinion pretty clear.’ She drew in another steadying breath, feeling the sick churning inside her threatening to take over. ‘Does your brother know you were coming here?’
He shook his head, expression unapologetic. ‘I took it on myself to try sorting something out.’
‘Such as what?’ Claire demanded. ‘An offer of money, maybe?’
From the look that flickered across the lean features, she had hit the nail on the head. Anger momentarily swamped all over emotions, and was held in check with the greatest difficulty.
‘I think you’d better go,’ she said, voice low and tight.
The strong mouth took on a wry line, as if in acknowledgment of a tactical error. ‘All right, so money isn’t necessarily the answer. But you’d surely agree that marriage under these circumstances isn’t the best thing either?’
‘I don’t know what I think.’ Claire was close to losing her grip altogether. ‘I’m not even convinced of the basic fact yet. Why should I take your word for it?’
‘It isn’t my word, it’s my brother’s,’ he said. ‘He’s hardly likely to make such a claim for fun!’
Claire doubted it too. What man would? She felt totally at sea.
‘I’d suggest you go and confront your sister with it,’ said Ross after a moment, watching her face. ‘Tomorrow being Sunday, we’ll all be available for discussion, I take it.’ It was more statement than question. ‘I imagine Scott has your address. We’ll come over together in the morning and talk it through.’
Further protestation would be a waste of time and effort, Claire accepted. Her first priority was to get home and see Jill.
Ross had taken her agreement for granted, and was already turning away to open the door again. A fine figure of a man, that part of her brain still functioning on normal levels registered: shoulders broad and powerful, hips lean, legs long and straight. A man she might well have found vitally attractive under normal circumstances.
If what he had told her really did turn out to be true— and there seemed little chance that it might not—then where did they go from here? she wondered numbly. Jill had her whole life ahead of her, and university just around the corner. With or without marriage, she was far too young to be a mother.
The rain had stopped some time before, although the pavements were still wet when she got outside. Carrying her raincoat, she locked the door securely, then walked down to the side-street where she had parked the little red Fiat Panda.
Six years old, the car was in far from pristine condition, but it was all she could comfortably afford to run, along with all her other expenses. For once, the ignition fired on the first time of asking.
Claire put the car into motion, trying to look at things rationally. Willing though Scott Laxton might be to ‘do the right thing’, as his brother had so scathingly put it, marriage didn’t have to be the only answer. Jill might not even want to marry him. It wouldn’t be easy bringing up a child, but between the two of them they could cope. At least there wasn’t the same stigma attached to single motherhood these days.
She was getting way ahead of herself, she conceded wryly at that point. It might even turn out to be a false alarm. She hoped so. Oh, God, how she hoped so!
Set right on the edge of the Derbyshire Dales, Rowsley was normally awash with weekend traffic at this time of year. Today there was little to mar her progress out to the suburb where she and Jill still lived, in the house they had once shared with their parents.
Insurance money and savings left by her father and mother had taken care of the mortgage, and there had been enough left over to start up the boutique. Claire had sold off part of the over-large garden to the people owning the plot next door, who had wanted to extend, and this had served the dual purpose of providing a sum to invest for Jill’s future educational expenses, and shrinking the garden to manageable proportions. Claire spent much of her spare time in it, and was justifiably proud of the result.
This evening she had no eyes for the colourful display fronting the white-walled house. She left the car standing on the drive and went straight indoors, gathering herself before opening the sitting-room door.
Jill looked up from the magazine which she was flicking through, her lovely, if somewhat wilful face wearing an unusually diffident expression.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Had a good day?’
Still not certain of how best to approach the subject, Claire shook her head. ‘Not very.’ She hesitated, then decided that the only way was to go head in. ‘I had a visit from Ross Laxton.’
If there had been any doubt left in her mind at all regarding the veracity of his accusation, it was instantly dispelled by the look which sprang into the younger girl’s eyes.
‘He had no right to interfere!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘I was going to tell you myself tonight.’
Claire pushed a shaky hand through her hair, struggling to stay on top of her emotions. ‘How come I never even knew you were seeing Scott Laxton? Why all the secrecy, Jill?’
Defiance took over from annoyance. ‘Because I knew how you’d react. My A levels had to be top priority all the way through, didn’t they? Never mind what I wanted!’
‘I thought going on to university was what you wanted,’ Claire defended.
‘You never bothered to ask. You even decided which universities I should apply to.’
‘We decided that together. You never once—’ Claire broke off, taking a hold on herself. ‘There’s really no point in going into all that
