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'Of course she will,' Robert said robustly. 'She must find life damned slow down here, spending her time with an old fellow like me.'
Nicholas Tempest's brows lifted. 'Then we shall have to find some means of keeping her entertained,' he said softly.
Cally freed herself hastily, murmured something about unpacking the groceries, and escaped. But even as she busied herself, stowing things away in the larder and the big old-fashioned refrigerator, she found herself assailed by the memory of the touch of his hand on hers. And scared by it too, in a way that was both unfamiliar and totally unwelcome.
And that, she thought tiredly, was how it had begun. Meeting him socially at dinners and parties in the locality, and when he came to visit her grandfather for reasons she'd never been able to fathom—not then. Occasionally she'd encountered him when she went riding, and he'd joined her astride a smart bay gelding that was a marked contrast to her own gentle, ageing Baz.
That had been the only time they'd ever met alone. Their conversation had always been general, and Cally had been astute enough to realise that she was being kept at a distance mentally as well as physically. Because he'd made no attempt to touch her again.
Yet before long she'd found herself looking out for him— hoping that she'd see him. Finding herself curiously at a loss when the business of his various companies had called him away. Shyly delighted when she'd learned of his return.
She'd never found the visits to Wylstone Hall much to her liking, particularly as Sir Ranald's widow Adele had still been snugly ensconced there, acting as Nick's hostess. Cally had been discomposed to find herself pinpointed by Lady Tempest's contemptuous violet gaze on more than one occasion, and the crimson lips had been quite capable of uttering limpid remarks, supposed to be teasing, yet designed to make Cally feel like a gauche schoolgirl. She'd found herself half-dreading those uncomfortable occasions.
'Says she doesn't want to be known as a dowager because it sounds so elderly,' Robert Naylor snorted after one of them. 'But Nicholas should pack her off to the Dower House just the same, and be quick about it—before the gossip starts. All this drooping around in black doesn't fool anyone, and I'd put money on her not having shed a single tear for poor Ranald. God only knows where he found her, but she's no intention of going back there.'
He shook his head. 'Wouldn't surprise me if she was banking on becoming Lady Tempest for a second time.'
'You mean Sir Nicholas might marry her?' Cally was startled in a number of ways, not all of which she wanted to examine too closely. 'But she's older than him.'
'Well, he's thirty, so there can't be more man a few years in it,' her grandfather said with a grunt. 'And she's a looker. I'll grant her that. No one could blame her for trying.' He gave another wag of the head. 'And proximity's a damned dangerous thing.'
'Yes,' Cally conceded with an odd feeling of numbness, 'I suppose it must be.'
Lying in bed that night, she thought of Adele, her beautiful face crowned by the sheen of her red-gold hair, her voluptuous body set off by the designer wardrobe that managed to make mourning seem a sexual experience. It was whispered locally, with nods and winks, that it was her excessive physical demands which had hurried her late husband into a relatively early grave.
'There's a woman who won't want to find herself in an empty bed,' was a remark Cally had overheard in the village shop.
But perhaps she isn't alone, Cally thought, lying awake, tormented by her imagination.
Looking back now, it seemed ludicrous that she could have been jealous of Adele.
But I was, she thought. And, being on my guard against her, I was diverted from seeing where the real danger lay.
Her unhappy musings were interrupted when she realised that Nick had once again turned off the motorway.
She sat up. 'Is this the right junction?'
'No, but it will do,' he returned briefly. 'I want to stop off in Clayminster first'
He parked in a side street near the cathedral close and turned to her. 'Do you want to come with me?'
Cally examined a non-existent fleck on her nail. 'Thank you, no. I'd prefer to remain here.'
'Very well.' She watched him remove the keys from the ignition and pocket them. 'I won't be too long.' He paused. 'Please don't do anything stupid, or I might get angry.'
'God forbid,' she bit back at him. 'Why don't you have me electronically tagged?'
His mouth twisted in wry acknowledgement. 'I'll keep it in mind.'
Left alone, Cally examined and reluctantly discarded the idea of running away again. Both the bus and train stations, she knew, were right on the other side of town, and he would catch her before she'd gone half the distance.
