AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Cally stopped dead, her whole body stiffening, her eyes blazing. Oh, God, she thought. Oh, dear God—no... He not only knows, but he's told her—he's told her.
Cally's voice shook. 'You have no right—no right at all to intrude into my personal circumstances. Or comment. And if ever I should want your damned advice, I'll ask for it. But don't hold your breath.'
Vanessa Layton threw back her head. 'Don't you even care that you're having Nick's child?' she demanded.
'Jealous, Mrs Layton?' The horrible, unforgivable words were out before she could stop herself. 'Wishing that it was your pregnancy instead?'
The pain in the other woman's eyes almost made her flinch. She said, too evenly, 'That will never be possible, Lady Tempest, as I'm sure you already know. And now my-—my father is waiting to attend to your hand.'
While other wounds are left to bleed on both sides, Cally thought, hating herself.
Inside the cottage, the rooms were on the small side, with low ceilings, but light paint on the walls and pale floor coverings and fabrics had created a sense of space that was elegant and peaceful.
But what did I expect? Cally asked herself. The woman had trained in interior design. And Nick's London apartment had the same cool, uncluttered look, she thought, biting her lip. She could remember thinking how lovely it was—until she d recalled exactly who was responsible for it.
There was a tray of tea and a plate of biscuits ready on a side table, and Geoffrey Miller was waiting with hot water, antiseptic cream, and a box of plasters.
'Oh, please, it's really nothing.' Cally tried to withdraw her hand. She was aware there was no sound from upstairs, where Vanessa Layton had gone after quietly excusing herself.
But he was firm. 'Better to be safe than sorry about these things. And I don't want Vanessa to be evicted for harbouring a dangerous dog.'
'As you see, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.' In spite of herself, Cally found she was smiling as the sinner sat up in front of her, urgently waving his paws. 'But I'm sure a biscuit would.'
'You have a very forgiving nature, my dear.' Geoffrey Miller said as he carefully adjusted the strip of plaster.
All evidence to the contrary, Cally thought bleakly, as she broke off a piece of shortcake and threw it to Tinker, who leapt joyfully and caught it. By dint of keeping him supplied, she was able to pretend she was eating, and managed to swallow most of her cup of tea before she heard the arrival of the car outside.
'That sounds like my lift.' She rose hurriedly. 'Thank you for taking care of me, Mr Miller.'
'It's been my pleasure.' He hesitated. 'I'm sorry you didn't get more of a chance to talk to Vanessa. I think she's feeling the strain of her morning's visit. But there'll be other times, I'm sure. And I think the rain has stopped.'
He opened the front door as he spoke. Cally had expected that Frank or Margaret would come for her. Instead, she was confronted by the sight of Nick approaching up the path—tout he was not alone, she realised, anger and hurt twisting inside her.
Because somehow Vanessa was no longer upstairs, but walking beside him, her voice soft and rapid, as he listened, head bent towards her.
The sight of them together was suddenly a torment impossible to bear, and Cally gasped, her head swimming, nausea hot and acrid in her throat.
'My dear child, you're ill.' Geoffrey Miller's hand grasped her arm. He raised his voice. 'Help me, would you? Lady Tempest is fainting.'
Then Nick was there, his arm like a ring of steel round her swaying body, his voice harsh. 'Let me take her. She needs to get home and rest, that's all.'
She heard herself say, 'Please—I'm all right—I'm fine,' as she tried to free herself and stand straight, but his grip simply tightened inexorably.
'Whatever,' he said curtly. 'You're coming with me, Cally, and you're coming now.'
She was put into the passenger seat of the car, and sat fumbling with the seatbelt while Nick strode round to the driver's side, almost flinging himself behind the wheel. With an exclamation of impatience, he took the buckle from her unsteady fingers and slotted it home.
'Thank you.' Cally took a deep breath. 'You must be wondering ...'
'Wondering?' His voice cut across her stumbling words. He was, she realised, molten with rage. 'I come home to be informed that my pregnant wife is wandering round the countryside in a thunderstorm on the back of an elderly horse with a heart problem, and that you were due back an hour before. It takes a phone call from a neighbour to tell me where you are.'
A neighbour, she thought. A neighbour...
Nick hit the steering wheel with his clenched fist. 'Well, that stops now, Cally. From now on you take your exercise on your own two feet.' He added grimly, 'Do I make myself clear?'
