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Sifting through the papers in his lap, Janos gave a small cry of triumph and beamed at Prudence.
‘I’ve found it. Finally. That is a relief!’ Glancing up, he looked at the grandfather clock in the corner of the sitting room and frowned. ‘I can’t imagine where Laszlo is.’ He shook his head. ‘Sometimes I think he’s less house-trained than Besnik. At least Besnik remembers mealtimes.’
Closing her laptop, a blush creeping over her cheeks, Prudence said shyly, ‘Actually, he told me he’s going to be a little delayed.’
Her blush deepened. She was still reeling from the unfamiliar experience of Laszlo earnestly telling her that he was going to be late.
Studiously avoiding Janos’s eyes, she added, ‘I think there was some problem over at the top field.’
Janos gave her a searching look. ‘I see.’ There was a pause, while Prudence gazed in concentration at the lid of her laptop, and then he said slowly, ‘I think I might need to speak to your uncle later.’
Prudence looked up at him. ‘Wh—why?’ she stammered. ‘Is there a problem?’
Janos shook his head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Don’t look so worried, my dear. I’m just wondering whether I can persuade him to let you stay for ever! First you manage to single-handedly organise forty years of paperwork concerning my collection, and now—far more impressively—you’ve trained my grandson to apprise you of his movements.’
Prudence drank a mouthful of coffee, finding it suddenly difficult to swallow. ‘I don’t think that’s all down to me,’ she said, blushing again.
Janos laughed. ‘It’s certainly not down to me! But don’t worry. You won’t have to stay in this draughty old castle for ever. I know you must be missing your family.’
She smiled. ‘I did miss them at first. But you’ve made me feel so welcome. And I love the castle,’ she said simply. ‘It’s such a perfect setting for all your beautiful things.’ Biting her lip, she paused. ‘Actually, it really reminds me of one of my favourite places—the Soane’s Museum in London. Sir John Soane used to live there, with all these incredible works of art and sculptures and clocks—just like you do there. It’s an amazing place.’
She shook her head slowly.
‘Edmund says I treat it like church: I always go there if I have something to celebrate or if I feel sad—’ She broke off in astonishment as the clocks throughout the castle began to strike the hour. ‘Is that the time? Perhaps I’d better just run down and tell Rosa that Laszlo is—’
‘Laszlo is what?’
Dressed casually in jeans and a faded grey sweatshirt, Laszlo strolled into the room, Besnik following at his heels. Reaching his grandfather’s armchair, he bent down and kissed Janos gently on the head, then turned to Prudence, his gleaming gaze making her stomach flip over.
They shared a brief burning silence and then he said, almost conversationally, ‘That I’m starving? Or that I’m on time? Hard to say which would give her greater pleasure!’
Dropping onto a sofa, he sat back and his eyes drifted over her lips. Her breath stuck in her throat.
‘How are you today, Prudence? Are you hungry too?’
His voice was teasing and warm, and she felt a corresponding heat across her skin. She glanced nervously over to Janos, for she was always worried that he would sense the tension between her and Laszlo. But she saw with relief that he had returned to sifting through his paperwork. She still disliked having to lie to him, but it was not for much longer. And then she would be back in England and she would have to lie only to herself.
She felt a jolt of misery. Don’t go there, she told herself, sitting up straighter. This was only ever going to be temporary. Nothing has changed.
She took a deep breath. Only it had. She hadn’t meant it to change, but it had. Like a tsunami warning, a cool voice inside her head kept urging her to get away from the strike zone. But she couldn’t. Her only option was to stay detached. It was only sex, after all.
She shivered. But what was going on inside her heart had nothing to do with sex. Her lower lip quivered as miserably she realised that Laszlo had been right all along. A piece of paper meant nothing. For in her heart she would always be married to Laszlo.
Shifting in her seat, she tried to steady her nerves. It’s all in your imagination, she told herself angrily. But it wasn’t. She loved him, and all she really wanted to do was forget everything that had happened between them and start again.
Looking up, her eyes collided with the stinging intensity of his gaze and she felt a spasm of pain—a pain that she knew no amount of distance in time or place would ever lessen. She might be in love with him, but he had simply and expediently reduced their relationship to the physical.
Heart pounding, fighting her misery, she looked away and said hastily, ‘I’ll just go and tell Rosa you’re here.’
‘Not necessary,’ Laszlo said softly. ‘I told her on my way up. Oh, and Jakob rang to say he’d be over this evening.’
He sat back, letting his long legs sprawl negligently in front of him, but despite his relaxed pose Prudence could almost see the restless energy coming off him in waves.
For a moment the room was silent, and then Janos looked across at his grandson thoughtfully. ‘Incredible. You’re on
time and you remembered to give me a message!’
Laszlo shrugged. His face was neutral, but his feet were tapping out a rhythm on the carpet. ‘Just keeping you on your toes, Papi.’
