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Now, though, things weren’t going at all according to plan and the tears filling her eyes weren’t entirely manufactured. Cuddled up in Verity’s arms this morning, she had experienced an emotion which had broken through the tough, protective outer shell she had created around herself. From being very young she had resented the pity she had seen in the eyes of the women who had cooed at her father and said how hard it must be for him to bring up a little girl like her on his own, scowling horribly at them when she had digested what they’d been saying. Gradually, she had come to see the adult members of her own sex not as potential allies, but as adversaries who wanted to come between her and her father.
With Verity it was different. Honor didn’t know why. She just knew that it was, that there was something soft and comforting and lovely about Verity and about being with her. She now wanted Verity as her stepmother, not just to protect her from the likes of Myra, but for herself as herself, and now, just as things were beginning to work out, here was her father being awkward and upsetting all her plans.
His suggestion that Verity might be too busy with her own life to have time for her was one she dismissed out of hand. She knew, of course, that it wasn’t true. Verity liked her. She could see it in her eyes when she looked at her; there was no mistaking that special loving look. She had seen it in Catherine’s mother’s eyes when she looked at Catherine and felt envious of her because of it.
Silas was driving past Verity’s house on his way home. Her BMW was parked in the drive. On impulse he stopped his own car and got out.
The gardens looked very much the same now as they had done when he had worked in them. There was the border he had been working on the first time he had seen Verity. Grimly he looked away and then, almost against his will, he found himself turning back, walking across the lawn.
The house might have changed since she had lived here, but the gardens hadn’t, Verity acknowledged as she paused by the fish pond, peering into it in the dusk of the summer’s evening.
Her uncle had used to threaten to have it filled in, complaining that the carp attracted the attentions of a local tom-cat, but Verity had pleaded with him not to do so. She used to love sitting here watching the fish. It was one of her favourite places.
From here she could see the small summer house where she and Silas had exchanged their first earth-shattering kiss.
An unexpected miaow made her jump and then put her hand on her heart as, out of the shadows of the shrubbery, a small, black cat stalked, weaving his way towards her to rub purringly against her legs.
Laughing, Verity bent to stroke him.
‘Well, you certainly aren’t old Tom,’ she told him as she rubbed behind his ear, ‘but you could be one of his offspring.’
Miaowing as if in assent, the cat jumped up onto the stone edge of the pond where she was sitting and peered into the darkness of the water.
‘Ah ha. Yes, you definitely must be related to him,’ Verity teased.
As a child she would have loved a pet but her uncle had always refused, and once she had become adult the business had kept her too busy and away from home too often for her to feel it would be fair for her to have one.
Now, though, things were different. When she finally decided where she was going to spend the rest of her life, there was nothing to stop her having a cat or a dog if she so chose…A cat, I suppose it would have to be, she mused. After all, cats and lonely single women were supposed to go together weren’t they? A dog somehow or other suggested someone with friends, a family…a full, vigorous life.
Bending her head over the cat, she tickled behind his ear.
‘Verity…’
‘Silas…’ Quickly Verity stood up, her stance unknowingly defensive as though she was trying to hold him off, Silas noted, as she held her hands up in front of her body.
Immediately he took a step back from her.
He couldn’t even bear to be within feet of her, never mind inches, Verity recognised achingly as she saw the way Silas distanced himself from her.
‘I was just thinking that this cat could be one of old Tom’s descendants,’ she told Silas huskily, trying to fill the tensioned silence.
‘Mmm…from the looks of him he very probably is,’ Silas agreed.
‘Look, Verity, I wonder if I could have a few words with you.’
Verity’s heart sank.
‘Yes…Yes, of course,’ she managed to agree. Whatever it was Silas wanted to say to her, she could see from his expression that it wasn’t anything particularly pleasant.
‘It’s about Honor,’ Silas told her, still keeping his distance from her. ‘I’ve had a talk with her this evening about…about the way she’s…she’s been trying to involve you in our lives…I’ve explained to her that you have your own life to live and—’
‘You’ve come here to tell me that you don’t want her to see me any more,’ Verity interrupted flatly, guessing what he was about to say and praying that he wouldn’t be able to tell just how much what he was saying was hurting her.
‘I…I think it would be best if she didn’t,’ Silas agreed heavily. ‘She’s at a very vulnerable age and…’
‘Do you think that I don’t know that?’ Verity told him swiftly, her face paling with the intensity of her emotions. ‘I’ve been there, Silas,’ she advised him jerkily, ‘remember…?’
It was the wrong thing to say, the very worst thing she could have said, she realised as she saw his mouth twist and heard the inflection in his voice as he told her curtly, ‘Yes, I remember…Honor’s got it into her head that she needs a woman’s influence in her life,’ Silas admitted slowly, ‘but…’
