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“Happy birthday,” Miranda said.
His mother pulled off the wrapping to reveal a half dozen brandy snaps filled with cream, and a finger lick at the end of one had her whimpering with delight.
It stunned Callum that Miranda had taken the care to make the sweet he’d told her his mother loved. But her consideration warmed his heart. For an instant he was guiltily conscious of the fact that she should be spending Christmas with her own mother and brother—not his.
As the afternoon passed, Miranda was supremely aware of Callum’s every move whenever they were together, and she grew increasingly uncomfortable with the number of times his fingers would brush hers, or his hand would settle on her waist, the fine, soft jersey fabric of her dress failing to present any substantial barrier to the warmth of his touch. She knew he was making certain that Gordon harbored no hopes of a reconciliation between his daughter and Callum. But she disliked the deceit and the flare of pain in Petra’s eyes. And on top of that, it troubled her deeply that she was deceiving Callum. He still had no idea of the damage Adrian had done to an Ironstone car…and more significantly that she hadn’t disclosed it to him.
Yet how could she? She couldn’t have gone against Adrian’s wishes. And ultimately it was Adrian’s problem. How would he ever learn to take responsibility for his life if she fixed all his problems for him? Look what a mess Flo made simply because she expected everyone to leap around and fix things for her. Her father treating Flo as a china doll had only worsened the problem.
But now Christmas was over. Adrian’s worry about being locked up over the holiday with little chance of bail was no longer valid. And every time her gaze connected with Callum’s, Miranda wished she hadn’t agreed to keep quiet until she returned to London. As much as she hadn’t wanted to raise something controversial on Christmas Day or his mother’s birthday, she now needed Callum to be in the picture.
Then maybe they could finally advance their strained relationship. But would he still even want to be friends when he found out she’d deceived him?
Tea had been served in delicate china cups. Miranda sneaked out to take a five-minute break in the downstairs study and decided she would call Adrian. Maybe he would agree to let her tell Callum the truth—presuming she got the opportunity.
Adrian answered his mobile on first ring. “What’s up, sis?”
She told him, and when he spoke again the breezy note had vanished. “No,” he said adamantly. “I’ll tell him when I’m ready.”
“On Monday when I get back, you said,” she reminded him.
“Maybe.”
He was trying to wriggle off the hook. Her brother must be truly scared of the consequences.
“It’s not going to get easier—and if you leave it too long, I’ll tell him myself.”
“I know that.” Adrian sounded so despondent she felt like an absolute witch. Then he said, “I’ve been getting threatening calls. I’ve managed to put them off because I told them you were away.”
“It doesn’t make any difference whether I’m there or not. I’ve told you—they’re not getting my money. Absolutely not.” She breathed deeply. “Look, Callum will give you a break.”
Adrian’s sin wasn’t anything like what their father had done. They couldn’t use that as a yardstick for judging Callum’s likely reaction. “I’m sure Callum will understand.” Miranda hoped that he would live up to her brave claim.
Adrian muttered something she was grateful she couldn’t make out, and then hung up.
Well, she’d handled that just beautifully!
“Why the frown?”
She started at the sound of Callum’s voice and discovered he was standing in front of her. Had he overheard her conversation? She hoped not.
She forced a smile. “Nothing much.”
“You were on the phone. Trouble? Is it your mother again?”
At least Callum hadn’t homed in on Adrian. “A little.”
“She takes advantage of you.” Callum held her gaze.
“And you,” she said.
“And me,” he conceded. “We’re not doing her any favors. By always fixing her problems, we’ve allowed her to become totally irresponsible.”
