be able to ask him for yourself tonight. He’s coming for supper.’ He looked guiltily at her. ‘Your mother invited him. She worries about him, living all alone in the Vicarage. You know what a fusser she is.’
So it was Dominic who had bought the Vicarage. Christy’s heart sank as she registered her father’s words. She could hardly fabricate an excuse to absent herself tonight.
‘You needn’t worry about what to cook. Your mother said to tell you that the freezer’s full. We miss Dominic’s parents. The four of us used to have some good times together …’
Guiltily Christy chastised herself for her selfishness. Dominic’s father had died four years ago, and then his mother had gone to live with her widowed sister in Berkshire. They had been her parents’ closest friends, but until now all she had been conscious of was her own relief that their absence meant that there was no longer any reason for Dominic to return to Setondale. But he had returned …
‘Is Mum awake? I thought I’d go up and see her.’
‘Yes, do. She’s complaining already that she’s getting bored, but Dominic has told her that she has to stay in bed at least another week.’
Her mother was sitting propped up against her pillows when Christy walked into her parents’ bedroom. Sarah Marsden was a striking-looking woman, with her daughter’s green eyes and the high cheekbones of the Celtic Scots. She smiled warmly as she saw Christy, and patted the bed. ‘There you are, darling. Come and sit down and talk to me. I’m bored out of my mind lying here, but Dominic insists.’ She watched her daughter carefully as she added, ‘You know, of course, that he’s back?’
Sarah Marsden had far more intuition than her husband, and she was well aware of her daughter’s reluctance to talk about anything or anyone connected with Dominic Savage. She knew about her adolescent crush on him, of course; it had been glaringly obvious, but Dominic had been at pains to treat her gently. She had never fathomed out what it was that had led to Christy’s abhorrence of the very mention of his name, and she knew her daughter far too well to pry. Instead she said calmly, ‘I invited Dominic to come round for supper. A man living on his own never eats properly.’
‘Nonsense, Mum,’ Christy interrupted crisply, ‘there’s no reason why on earth a man shouldn’t be able to take care of himself in much the same way as a woman has to.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t suggesting that Dominic wasn’t capable of looking after himself, Christy,’ her mother corrected gently. ‘I’m sure he can. But as a very busy doctor, I’m also sure that he doesn’t have the time to do more than grab the odd snack. There’s a ragout in the freezer; I thought you might give him that. It always used to be his favourite …’
‘Stop worrying about Dominic Savage and try and get some rest,’ Christy instructed her. Really, her mother was impossible at times! Here she was recuperating from major heart surgery and all she could think about was Dominic Savage’s stomach.
It wasn’t because she wanted to impress Dominic that she took particular pains with her appearance that night, Christy told herself, donning an elegantly sophisticated jersey dress that David had urged her to buy from a shop in South Molton Street.
The camel-coloured jersey, so dull on anyone else, on her was the perfect foil for her copper hair, the knitted material designed to cling lovingly to every inch of her body. Despite the fact that it covered her from throat to knees, it was undoubtedly a dress designed for women with men in mind. Which no doubt was why David had chosen it in the first place, she thought wryly, remembering her own doubts the day she had tried it on. That had been before David had told her how he felt about her. Her mouth compressed slightly as she busied herself blow-drying her unruly curls into sleek copper order.
Now her make-up: just the merest hint of green eyeshadow, and then mascara to darken the blonde tips of her eyelashes. Blusher to emphasise her cheekbones, and then the merest slick of lip gloss. She stood up and slipped on her high heels, smiling rather grimly at her reflection.
Yes … This was the woman she now was, not the child she had once been. No one looking at her now could doubt her maturity. As she walked away from the mirror she didn’t see the glimmer of vulnerability that darkened her eyes, nor the soft quiver of her mouth.
Her father’s eyebrows lifted slightly as she walked into the kitchen, but he was familiar enough with her London clothes and the sophistication that went with it not to make any comment. She found the ragout in the freezer and started the preparations for supper. She couldn’t very well avoid eating with her father and Dominic, but once the meal was over she intended to excuse herself on the pretext that she was tired. After all, she thought cynically, Dominic could hardly want her company.
A pain, as though someone had twisted a knife in her heart, tore through her as she remembered the open warmth of his smile, for all the world as though he had actually been glad to see her. No doubt there were times when a doctor needed to conceal his true feelings, and he had obviously more than mastered that art.
Her mother wasn’t allowed any heavy meals, so just before Dominic was due, Christy took her up a light snack.
‘Oh, very nice; I do like that, Christy,’ Mrs Marsden approved, as she studied her daughter’s dress. Despite the fact that she lived a rural existence, Sarah Marsden had retained a vivid interest in fashion and was able to comment knowledgeably on her daughter’s outfit.
‘David chose it,’ Christy told her, failing to notice the look of concern darkening her mother’s eyes. ‘I wasn’t sure if it was really me, but you know what he’s like. He overruled all my objections.’
‘Yes, he can be a very forceful man. And a very magnetic one as well …’ She paused, and Christy looked across at her.
‘You’ve always seemed so happy in your job, Christy. Your father and I were a bit surprised to hear that you’d given it up. I hope it wasn’t anything to do with this silly heart of mine.’
‘It wasn’t,’ Christy assured her truthfully. ‘As I told Dad this morning, David has been offered some work in Hollywood, and since there’s every chance that he might stay on over there, naturally I couldn’t go on working for him.’
‘But he could have taken you with him.’
Christy could sense the direction of her mother’s thoughts. ‘Yes, I suppose he could,’ she agreed airily. ‘But he didn’t, and quite fortunately, as it turns out that that means I’m free to come home and spend some time with you. Unless, of course, you’re trying to tell me that my help isn’t wanted …’
‘Christy, darling, this is your home. We’re both delighted to have you back. Umm … that sounds like Dominic’s car. You’d better go down and let him in. Your father will never hear him. He’s getting dreadfully deaf, you know.’
Reluctantly Christy headed for the door. As her mother had predicted, the sound of the doorbell had not brought her father out of his study, so she made her way down to the hall, shivering in the blast of cold air that swirled in as she opened the front door.
Dominic had changed out of the suit he had been wearing earlier and was now dressed casually in navy pants and a matching jacquard sweater. His eyebrows rose as he saw her, and for a moment something almost like pain seemed to flicker in his eyes.
‘I’ll just tell my father that you’re here,’ Christy told him formally, stepping away from him. ‘Supper shouldn’t be long.’
Her
