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‘Of course.’ Marianne forced a brightness into her voice she was far from feeling. ‘But if Rafe’s father’s halfway reasonable it would solve the immediate problem. Rafe was really concerned about him yesterday.’

Crystal’s eyes were shrewd as she stared at the young woman who was like a daughter to her. ‘You seem to be getting on better with him these days,’ she said expressionlessly.

Marianne shrugged. ‘Matter of having to, with us being business partners,’ she prevaricated. ‘Anything less would have made things untenable.’ She opened the car door, effectively ending the conversation, and once on the pebbled drive said, ‘What a beautiful place this is. I remember coming carol-singing here as a child and the Haywards were always very generous. They used to have everyone in for a hot drink and mince pies.’

Crystal didn’t comment on the change of topic. ‘They are a lovely couple,’ she agreed, ‘but they’ve been missing their son and his family like mad since they all emigrated a few years ago. It will be good for them to see their grandchildren on a day-to-day basis rather than once a year.’

Marianne glanced at her. She remember

ed her mother telling her the Haywards’ son had been the same age as Crystal’s eldest son and great friends with the boy. Crystal had had so much taken away from her by the sea, which had been the village’s livelihood at one time, but she never seemed bitter or sorry for herself. Nevertheless, with the strong maternal streak she had, Crystal must have mourned the fact she would never have grandchildren of her own flesh and blood.

The thought caused her to reach out and hug the older woman briefly, saying, ‘What would I do without you?’

‘And me you.’

‘So—’ Marianne squared her shoulders ‘—let’s go and meet Rafe’s father.’

A nice smiley woman with a strong American accent ushered them through the sunlit hall and into a wood-beamed sitting room where Rafe and Andrew Steed rose to greet them. Marianne was immediately conscious of how similar the two men were, but also of how frail Andrew seemed beside the broad, vigorous figure of his son. Rafe introduced them and, as he did so, his father nodded his head, topped by a thick thatch of snow-white hair, saying, ‘So you’re Diane and Gerald’s daughter. I would have known that without being told. I suppose lots of people have told you you’re very like your mother, m’dear? But I can see Gerald, too. He had the same combination of fair hair and dark eyes. And Crystal—’ he let go of Marianne’s hand to shake Crystal’s ‘—you haven’t changed a bit.’

‘Go on with you.’ Crystal was laughing. ‘I was a slim young thing in those days and my hair colour didn’t come out of a bottle.’

‘Come and sit down.’ Rafe steered them to one of two sofas separated by a low, long coffee table, and he and his father sat down once they were seated. ‘Mary’s bringing coffee in a moment.’

Marianne tried very hard to appear as relaxed as the other three seemed to be but it was hard. She was glad Andrew Steed had mentioned her parents straight off but at the same time it had thrown her somewhat. She had expected…She didn’t know what she’d expected, she admitted silently, but not this good-looking but gaunt elderly man with a rusty charm and eyes that were still a startling blue in the tired face. And he seemed nice. Not the rancorous, embittered person she had half been prepared to face.

She listened to the others talking, adding a word here and there when it was expected of her but otherwise trying to gain her composure. It didn’t help her equilibrium one bit that Rafe was looking even more the brooding Heathcliff Victoria had labelled him all those weeks ago, his black jeans and black open-necked shirt sombre in the cream and gold room, and his tanned skin appearing even more dark against the light furnishings.

She plucked up courage to glance at him once or twice but it set the butterflies dancing madly in her stomach and dried her mouth. All in all, she was relieved when Mary appeared with the coffee. At least holding a cup and saucer gave her hands something to do. Thankfully, Crystal and Andrew were intent on going down memory lane, naming old school friends and incidents from the past that meant something to them.

Slowly Marianne began to relax. Andrew Steed wasn’t the awkward, hostile individual she had feared he might be, and Rafe was polite but distant, very much the businessman. And she could handle that. It was the other side of him—the man beneath the outward persona—she had trouble with.

After coffee, Rafe spread the plans and drawings for Seacrest on the coffee table and they all peered at them, putting in the odd suggestion and discussing timetables and procedures.

At the end of an hour it was Crystal who, after glancing at Andrew’s white face, said, ‘I think we’ve all had enough to take in for today and Marianne and I have a lunch engagement in half an hour. Do thank your housekeeper for the lovely walnut cake, Andrew. It was delicious. You must be very pleased she has agreed to come over to England with you.’ She stood up as she spoke, busying herself with slipping on her cardigan and not looking at him again.

Andrew irritably pushed Rafe’s hand away when his son made a move to help him rise, standing up before he said to Crystal, ‘Actually, Mary and Will are returning to America shortly.’

‘That’s a shame.’ Crystal fluffed her hair, her voice nonchalant. ‘Who will you have in their place, then?’

‘A daily two or three times a week, if I can find one.’

‘You’ll be lucky round here.’ Crystal tilted her head on one side, as though an idea was occurring. ‘I tell you what, though, I might be able to help here. I’m going to be somewhat redundant at Seacrest while all the alterations are going on and I was dreading the brick dust and mess bringing on my dust allergy. If you don’t get someone before Mary and Will leave, let me know and we could perhaps work something out.’

Andrew stared at her. ‘But you couldn’t leave Marianne.’

‘Me?’ Marianne took her cue from Crystal. ‘Don’t worry about me. I was worried about Crystal’s allergy, to be honest. It can be a nightmare for her.’

‘Really?’ Andrew looked from one woman to the other.

‘I was expecting to be hanging with my head out of the window most days,’ said Crystal, warming to the theme. ‘You’d be doing me a favour. But perhaps Mary and Will won’t go.’

Andrew looked slightly sheepish. ‘I booked their flight this morning, although they don’t know that yet. They’ll be leaving at the weekend.’

Rafe raised his eyes heavenwards behind his father’s back.

‘Well, think about it.’ Crystal held out her hand. ‘Goodbye for now, Andrew. It was nice meeting you again.’

‘I’ll see you out.’ Rafe gently pushed his father back down into his chair and it said a lot about Andrew’s exhaustion that he didn’t object too much.

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