to have a chance.
‘I believe it can happen if we work at it together,’ she said firmly. ‘And that’s what we’re going to do.’
Suddenly his brows drew together and he covered his bandaged eyes with his hand. Elinor could see that something vital inside him had cracked.
‘For God’s sake, go!’ he said in a shaking voice. ‘Just leave me.’
‘Certainly.’ She closed the door firmly so that he could hear that she’d gone.
Mrs Hadwick, the housekeeper, was waiting in the corridor.
‘All your bags have been taken upstairs, miss,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you the way.’
Because she was on edge over her meeting with Jason, Elinor had chosen to visit him first, before even going to her room. Now she followed the housekeeper down the corridor and round the corner. And, with alarm, she realised where she was going.
‘This room—’ she said.
‘It’s the best guest room,’ Mrs Hadwick said, pushing open a door. ‘I’ll send you up some tea.’ She vanished.
The room was big and imposing, with a four poster bed in the centre. There was a dressing table, an ordinary table and chair, and a big, comfortable armchair. There were two tall windows with drapes that swept the floor. Nothing had changed since the last time she’d slept here, six years ago.
Until now she’d managed to control her memories, but in this place they came flooding back.
Simon seemed to be with her, young and handsome, full of love and eagerness, as he’d been the day he first brought her to his home as his future bride, driving with one arm around her shoulders, and one on the wheel of his gleaming new sports car. They’d swept up the long avenue of oaks until suddenly the house had come into view, and she’d gasped at its beauty and splendour.
‘Simon, I never dreamed—that can’t be your home?’
‘What’s the matter with it?’
‘I’ve never been in a place like that before. I grew up in one of those shabby little back-to-back places at the town end. My mother was a cleaner in your father’s factory.’
He gave a shout of laughter. ‘No, really? Tell me.’
‘She used to do the early morning shift. One day she took me with her. It was against the rules, but otherwise I’d have had to stay at home in an empty house. We nearly got away with it, but one morning I bumped into your brother.’
‘Jason? You mean you’ve already met? Suppose he remembers you?’
‘I was eight years old. He won’t know me after all these years. You mustn’t tell him. Promise.’
‘I promise.’
‘Cross your heart and hope to die. Oh, dear, I wish now I hadn’t told you.’
‘Darling, that really hurts me. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean that. Truly I didn’t. Of course I trust you, but don’t you see? I don’t belong here.’
‘You belong with me,’ he said firmly.
How desperately she loved him. It seemed as if her slender form must shatter with the force of her love.
As they neared the house she saw a tall man standing on the steps. He’d been a teenager when she’d glimpsed him in the factory, but she had no trouble recognising him again as Jason Tenby.
He must have been a good six foot two, with broad shoulders and a certain massiveness about his presence that had more to do with his air than his build. His hair was dark brown with a touch of red, and his skin was tanned as though he spent a lot of time outdoors. He wore riding breeches and a tweed jacket and stood at his ease, one foot on the lowest step, his hands thrust into his breeches pocket. He looked for all the world like a patriarch watching the hordes advancing on his domain, sizing up a threat.
‘How do you do, Miss Smith?’ His voice was deep and vibrant. Had she imagined it contained a sneer, as though he was mocking her for her commonplace name?
His very handshake was unnerving. Her delicate hand was swallowed up in his great fist, and she almost gasped from the strength of his grip and the sense of power that came from him.
She remembered every moment of her first evening at Tenby Manor. It was the first time she’d been in a house where people dressed for dinner. At least, she thought, she could live up to her surroundings, for she had an expensive long gown and a delicate sapphire pendant, both of them Simon’s gifts. He was wonderfully handsome in dinner jacket and black tie, although even her adoring eyes could see that he was cast into the shadow by his brother.
Simon was twenty, slim and mercurial, with fair, boyish looks and rapid speech. Jason was twenty-eight with slow, thoughtful speech and an authority beyond his years.
Simon enchanted her. Jason awed her.
There was only a slight brotherly likeness between them. Already Jason’s face was harsh with experience, and there was a firmness about his mouth and chin that revealed his impatience with fools, or with anyone who disagreed with him. Yet when in repose his mouth had an unexpected curve, suggesting humour, sensuality, even charm. She grew nervous whenever he looked at her because his dark eyes seemed to swallow light, and it was impossible to read his thoughts in them.
The walls of the grand dining room were lined with portraits of Tenby ancestors, and under their censorious eyes she was sure she would use the wrong knife and fork, or knock over one of the lead-crystal glasses. But it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. Jason talked to her cordially enough, and showed no sign of recognising her from years ago. Afterwards he showed her around the grand house, and they sat talking in the library.
‘So, how did you meet my brother?’ he asked, handing her a sherry.
‘Hasn’t Simon told you?’
‘I’d like to hear your version. He has a tendency to—shall we say—embellish things?’
She nodded. ‘He does have a wonderful imagination,’ she agreed eagerly. To his dour brother Simon’s tendency to get carried away might be maddening, but after her dull life it was a glorious plus.
‘Wonderful,’ Jason echoed. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned. She couldn’t help herself smiling back, and for a moment a flash of understanding passed between them.
‘I was working in a shoe shop,’ she said with a touch of defiance. ‘And Simon came in to buy some shoes.’
He’d stayed two hours and left with five pairs— ‘because I couldn’t tear myself away from your sweet face’, he’d said over dinner that night.
‘Have you done any other kind of work?’ Jason asked.
‘I was going to train as a nurse, but my mother became ill and I stayed at home to look after her until she died.’
‘And you didn’t start your training then?’
