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‘Why?’ she asked coldly. ‘It was love that put me on the steps of a hospital when I was a few hours old wrapped in an old newspaper. It was love that—’ She stopped. She couldn’t tell him about Robin; the humiliation had run too deep. ‘I don’t believe in love,’ she finished expressionlessly.
‘But you must want to get married one day, have children?’ he persisted. ‘Every girl wants a white wedding.’
‘If I ever get married it will be in black as befits the occasion,’ she said bitterly. ‘Why pretend? Why play the game that everything is going to turn out all right in the end? It’s fairy-tale nonsense.’ She heard herself speaking the words with something akin to horror. Did she really believe that? she asked herself even as the words left her lips. She didn’t want to feel like this, be this person she could hear talking so coldly, but it was the only way she could protect herself and stop the vulnerability from showing. Argue with me, Alex, she begged silently, convince me I’m wrong, give me some hope that I’m not going to spend the rest of my life alone.
He did none of those things as they continued their walk in silence, and as she glanced at his face from under her eyelashes she saw it was set in cold and austere lines now, the light that had been there a few minutes before just a memory.
As they reached the lights of the house he still didn’t speak, not until they had divested themselves of their outer garments in the hall and she walked towards the stairs. ‘You go up,’ he said quietly as she turned to face him on the bottom step. ‘I need a drink.’
He turned and walked into his empty sitting-room, the dogs following at his heels, as she walked slowly up the stairs and away from him, and suddenly that seemed forebodingly appropriate as the last drop of magic melted away.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS snowing again when Fabia awoke late Christmas morning after a restless, troubled night. Mary was pulling back the blinds, her good-natured face smiling as always, and Fabia saw a tray on the small table by her bed that the housekeeper must have brought in with her. ‘Just a light snack of grapefruit and toast,’ Mary said as she followed Fabia’s gaze. ‘Don’t want to spoil your Christmas dinner and it’s ten o’clock already.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Mary,’ Fabia apologised as she struggled into a sitting position in the soft bed. ‘You shouldn’t have bothered with a tray for me, you must have heaps to do.’
‘No bother, Miss Fabia,’ Mary replied warmly. ‘I came in earlier but you looked so peaceful I didn’t like to wake you.’
Peaceful? Fabia thought miserably. She hadn’t known a moment’s peace since she had met the master of this household, if the truth be known.
‘Mr Alex has taken the dogs for a walk,’ Mary continued cheerfully, ‘but he’ll be back in about half an hour and wondered if you’d like to come and see the mistress with him?’
‘Yes, that’d be fine,’ Fabia said quietly. ‘I’ll have breakfast and get dressed and come down, Mary. Is there anything I can do to help you this morning?’
‘Help me?’ Mary looked horrified. ‘Oh, no, Miss Fabia, Cook and I have got everything under control. It wouldn’t do for you to help.’
‘No, I suppose not,’ Fabia agreed slowly, ‘but I’m not used to doing nothing. With looking after myself and the flat and doing a full-time job I usually haven’t got a minute to spare.’
‘Well, you just enjoy the luxury while it lasts, then,’ Mary said brightly, ‘but it was nice of you to ask, Miss Fabia, very nice.’ She bustled off after placing the tray on Fabia’s lap, her small body consumed with energy, and as Fabia ate she considered the small woman’s words.
‘Enjoy it while it lasts,’ she repeated thoughtfully. The staff didn’t expect her to be around again, then? The thought depressed her even though she had decided the same thing.
She was downstairs waiting for Alex when he returned from his walk, his face glowing and his bare head covered in snow. ‘You should have worn a hat,’ she admonished as he stood in the hall melting all over the thick carpet. ‘You lose most of your body heat from the top of your head.’
‘Really?’ He cast a sardonic eye at her. ‘And would you care if I was cold?’ He was smiling as he spoke but she knew he meant the message the words were asking. ‘Silly question, really,’ he added as he gazed at her troubled face, ‘and as I’m sure it’s one you’ve got no intention of answering I won’t wait for a reply.’
He glanced at the huge box she was holding in her arms. ‘Isabella’s present?’ She nodded slowly. The tiny mirror was in her skirt pocket but she was wondering whether to give it to him or not now. ‘Shall we go up, then?’ He picked up several presents from under the tree in the main drawing-room first and then followed her up the stairs to his grandmother’s room, where they spent a pleasant hour with the old lady, who was looking considerably better, but acceded grudgingly to Alex’s repeated orders for her to stay in bed.
Fabia was touched to find that Isabella had bought her a gift, a superb dark leather handbag with a matching purse inside.
‘You shouldn’t have,’ she said gratefully, her face expressing her pleasure more adequately than words, to which Isabella replied with a loud snort, although the old face was soft as it glanced at the young woman sitting on the bed.
Dinner was a traditional affair, a huge turkey with all the trimmings followed by plum pudding doused in brandy. It felt strange to be sitting with Alex at the beautifully decorated festive table in the lovely room surrounded by all the evidence of his wealth. She glanced at him as he spooned thick cream on to the rich pudding and her heart twisted painfully. At that moment she would have given the world for him to be a normal working man struggling to make ends meet—maybe then she would have had a chance? She caught at her thoughts abruptly. It was madness to think like this.
‘I’m glad you’re wearing it.’ As the deep slumberous voice broke into her thoughts she raised her eyes to meet his. ‘The pendant.’ He touched his own neck. ‘It suits you.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ She forced a smile to her lips as she spoke and he nodded slowly, his eyes warm and soft with their strange glowing gold light.
‘It has its own kind of loveliness but I prefer the flesh and blood kind...like yours.’ He wasn’t smiling as he spoke, and there was a strange kind of intimacy that had crept unbidden into the room. She stared at him dumbly. ‘Thank you for coming here with me, Fabia,’ he said softly as their eyes held and locked. ‘It’s been...good.’
‘Good?’ She laughed sharply, purposely trying to break the mood before it took hold of her and her mind spiralled into the inevitable confusion he always managed to evoke. ‘I got the impression I’m a trial and tribulation to you.’
‘Did you?’ He smiled slowly, his eyes dancing as he glanced at her defiant face. ‘Well, maybe I’m due for a little trouble in my life right now.’
She didn’t like him in this conciliatory mood, it was too...seductive. ‘Yes...’ For the life of her she couldn’t think up a suitable crushing reply when faced with the questioning intensity that had now taken hold of his whole body. She sat, hardly daring to breathe, as he slowly rose from his chair, only to relax with an almost painful sense of anticlimax as the phone rang piercingly in the hall, shattering the mood into a hundred tiny pieces.
‘Mr Alex?’ Mary stood in the doorway as he resumed his seat, his face expressing his irritation. ‘It’s Miss Susan on the phone. She wonders what time the party begins tomorrow.’
