“Wonderful, I love lamb, though I hardly ate it in Florida. I think I lived on a diet of salad though I’m not complaining about that. But I’d forgotten how good English cuisine can be. I mean this is just a country inn but the food’s fabulous.”
“Of course. My family love this place. It’s always had the reputation of good, wholesome food. Let me pour you another glass of wine. I can’t have more than two.”
“Goodness, I hadn’t better get tipsy.”
“You won’t. I hope you’re going to try dessert, they make these fabulous English puddings…”
Jasmine,
she thought,
did you like it here?
You ate like a bird—I’m sure you’d have loved the surroundings but you’d have played with the food.
Suddenly her eyes felt in danger of filling with tears. Just where was her sister, why was she behaving so badly?
Whatever Seth Sanderson had done, or more likely
not
done, there was no excuse for her sister to take off as she had done. Especially not when she knew her sister was leaving everything she loved to join her.
“You look a little glum. Is it something I said?” Edward’s voice was full of concern.
“Oh no, sorry. I was just thinking about…” She hesitated, swallowing, searching for a lie. “About how wonderful everything is here. I didn’t like it when I first arrived but somehow…there’s a warm comfortableness about it.”
“Really? I hate it. Bloody damp and cold most of the time. I couldn’t live here permanently, too gloomy.”
“I thought so too but…” She shrugged her shoulders and then realized with a little start that what had started as a lie was really the truth. There was something about the place and it was growing on her. But was it the place or was it the enigmatic Seth Sanderson?
That was odd too, for Jasmine and she had never shared the same taste in men. Jasmine liked men with fast cars and the reputation to go with them. Poppy had to admit she went for the strong silent type. Just what had her sister found attractive about Seth? His previous career? Did she like the idea of the glamour of journalism? But Seth wasn’t a journalist then, unless she hoped he’d go back to it. Move to London, take her to all those interesting watering holes she had no doubt Seth had frequented in the past. It was a mystery and one that wouldn’t be solved until Jasmine returned.
Edward Donnington’s voice broke into her reverie. “There you go again, into that far away world.”
“Sorry, I was just wondering, Seth hardly seems to be Jasmine’s type. I can’t imagine why she married him.”
Edward laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Jasmine had her reasons.”
“You know what they were?”
“No,” he said, and sighed. “Why would
I
know that?” He sounded just a little irritated now. “I can surmise but I don’t know. Seth’s an attractive guy.”
“Yes but he’s…” She stopped.
“He’s what?”
Now she shrugged her shoulders, caught in a trap of her own making. “I don’t know, just a little different from the usual men Jasmine went out with.”
“In what way?”
“He’s happy with his life in the country, rather quiet, a little serious.”
It felt like such a betrayal of Seth; she wanted to grab the words back.
“He’s not always like that. Perhaps he’s more worried about Jasmine than he lets on. He had quite an exciting life at one time.”
“Yes I know, he told me he was a foreign correspondent.”
“Well yes, he was. But he’s an author too…he can move in pretty important circles when he wants to.” Edward Donnington sounded a tad resentful. It was there at the back of his words. Poppy let it go. She wasn’t really interested in what Edward thought—only in what he
knew
.
“I didn’t know that.” It was a surprise and yet held more than a clue as to why Jasmine was attracted to him. He represented an inroad to the kind of life Jasmine sought but never could achieve on her own merit.
“There’s a lot you don’t know and none of it will solve the mystery of where Jas is. She’s probably gone shopping somewhere, enjoying the bright lights. She’ll be back when he cancels her credit.”
“You think he’d do that?”
“Of course. He’s done it before.”
“He has? Goodness, he must have been really angry with her.”
He wasn’t the kind of man to be walked over. If there was one thing guaranteed to bring his erstwhile wife running back it was a lack of spending money. Jasmine had no money of her own. At least not the amount she liked to spend.
“I bet he even had her sign a pre-nup. Seth likes money, Poppy, don’t ever forget that.”
Chapter 5
By the time Edward got her back the house was in darkness. Seth had given her a key; the huge thing had weighed heavy in her small clutch bag—now she was glad she’d taken it.
Edward reached for her but she backed off. “Thank you for a nice evening,” she said, and already she had her hand on the car door handle. Pushing the door open, she slid out before he had time to try again.
He leaned over. “That’s rather an abrupt goodnight,” he said brusquely.
It’s all you’re getting,
she thought but she smiled. “I had a nice time, goodnight.”
She swung away. Her heart hammered as she scampered to the door. Shoving the key in the large lock and turning it, she slid in as the door swung open, not turning as she thrust herself through the opening, pushing it closed with her back. For a long moment she stood there—she’d half expected him to follow her to the door, to take her in his arms. It was the last thing she needed. A scuffle with Edward Donnington would be sure to rouse the household and Seth in particular. Her humiliation was something she didn’t wish him to witness. It would be bad enough facing him tomorrow morning when she’d be honor bound to tell him the truth of where she’d been.
As she stood still, her heart hammering, the hall was suddenly flooded with light. Seth was there, by the library door.
“Oh it’s you, I thought…” But he didn’t finish his statement.
Turning from his stare, she turned the key in the lock, retrieving it before turning back again.
“Did you think it was Jasmine?”
He hesitated. “Yes,” he murmured eventually.
“I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”
“I didn’t say you were that,” he said, “actually I thought I heard Edward’s car. It has a particular roar.”
“Mm. Well it
was
him. He took me to the Fox and Goose for dinner.”
Seth leaned now against the architrave, casually folding his arms across his chest.
“How nice of him.”
Daring herself, Poppy swept deeper into the hall, going towards the staircase, lingering when she reached it, her hand hugging the carved banister. “The food was delicious.”
“Yes, they have a reputation for that.”
Suddenly an alarm rang in her head. He’d said he recognized Edward Donnington’s car and assumed he’d be dropping off Jasmine. She’d not picked that up right away, too concerned with finding out if he was disappointed with
her
announcement or not.
“Does she see a lot of Edward—Jasmine, I mean?”
“I know who you mean. If you ask her she’ll say no, if you ask anyone around here they’ll tell you different. Personally I couldn’t care less. I just wish she’d make up her mind.”
“About what?”
“Leaving.”
“With him?”
Seth shrugged. “Who knows? Anyway, now’s not the time for that kind of conversation.”
“I’m not tired; we could talk if you like.”
“It’s not fair to you but if you’d like a drink come and be my guest.”
She swallowed, hesitated and then decided it could do no harm. Seth pushed open the library door; the blazing fire warmed her as soon as she set foot on the Persian carpet. It was a fabulous room, lined with books, tables and comfy chairs. There was a computer; Seth had obviously been working, there were books open on the desk, as well as a mound of paper.
“Would you like a brandy? I was just going to have one, or perhaps some wine?”
“Brandy would be lovely.”
She took the red leather armchair by the fire. He brought her a snifter of the dark golden liquid, putting it on the occasional table at her side. In moments he joined her, sitting in the chair opposite her, swirling the glowing liquid around in the glass.
Poppy took a sip of brandy; it was fiery but delicious, sending a ray of warmth right down her throat and into her stomach. It was very good brandy but then she hadn’t expected anything different.
“Sorry, would you like some soda?”
“I think so,” she replied and smiled. He left his chair, sauntered to the table where there were bottles of spirits.
“Half and half?” he asked, soda siphon in hand.
“Yes please. That first sip was deliciously warming but any more of the straight stuff and I’ll be legless.”
He smiled. “There you go…” He put the glass down.
They sat in silence for long moments, only the crackling of the fire disturbing the peace. Surprisingly it wasn’t uncomfortable.
Seth stretched his long legs. He appeared very relaxed. Sipping his brandy, he glanced her, his eyes lingering on her dark blonde hair. She wondered if it was disturbed, if it looked as if a man had run his hands through it. Urgently she ran her hands over it. By the time she’d finished Seth had looked away.
Damn it but just what is he thinking?
“You’re pretty secretive, you know.”
“Am I?” He was amused; his voice was full of warmth.
“Yes, you told me you’d been a foreign correspondent, you didn’t tell me you still wrote.”
She looked at the worktable, the opened books, the computer’s light blinking.
“I didn’t think it necessary or important. You wouldn’t know me.”
“How do you know that? Do you use your own name?”
“No.”
“Are you going to make me tease every bit of information out of you?”
He leaned forward, his knees almost touching hers. “I wouldn’t mind your teasing me, Poppy. I wouldn’t mind at all.”
She heard her little gasp, and was aware too that his words caused a frisson of delight to travel across her stomach. Her cheeks burned. Realizing she had to retaliate, she said, “You shouldn’t be flirting with me.”
“Why not?”
“You’re my brother-in-law, that’s why not. You belong to Jasmine.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” he said sternly. In a fluid motion he stood, going to stand at the fireplace, resting one hand on the mantle and the other sliding in the inside of his sweater. She watched fascinated as he massaged that area between the throat and the chest.
“I suppose I should go…” she managed, standing and finding herself not quite steady on her legs. The impact of the moment was still rampaging through her; sending the blood coursing through her veins, making her feel hot and cold and hot again. He was so damned attractive and what was worse, she suspected he knew it.
He abruptly pulled his hand from his sweater, the arm hanging limply at his side, a sort of tension shown in the opening and closing of his fist.
“Things are over between Jasmine and me. If they ever were more than a…” but he stopped. “You’re not like your sister at all are you?”
“I…no, no I’m not. But she
is
my sister and I would never do anything to hurt her.”
“I wish the feelings were mutual,” he said enigmatically. Then after a moment he added, “You wouldn’t hurt Jasmine; she has no feelings for me.”
“I can’t understand why not?”
“Perhaps one day I’ll explain.”
He left his position and came to her. A hand came out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
I must keep control,
she insisted to herself,
but it’s so hard not to just throw myself in his arms.
Stepping back, she felt the press of the sofa at the back of her legs.
“I really must go.” It was a plea more than a statement.
Seth stepped back, giving her free passage.
When she reached the door she opened it before turning. He wasn’t even looking at her but staring at the flickering flames of firelight.
“Don’t wait too long for that day,” she said. Whether he heard or not she couldn’t be certain for he didn’t look around. Softly she closed the door behind her. Vaulting up the stairs, she didn’t stop moving quickly until she reached her bedroom door. Once inside she felt her heart roaring away, her limbs quivering. It wasn’t the brief exercise that caused such ructions.
If only it were.
Chapter 6
“Look after Jasmine.”
The voice echoed down from the past. Poppy, sitting on the window seat in her bedroom, her forehead resting against the glass pane, heard it loud and clear. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she saw her mother Anna. Tall and thin, long fair hair framing her face, her form covered by a flowing, flower-spattered caftan. There was the reek of happy tobacco. That smell permeated the whole house. Even now Poppy could go in anywhere and tell if weed was being smoked even if it were a mild variety. After their dad had died, Anna lost it. Smoking the illegal substance didn’t help. She took stronger drugs. She couldn’t be interested in anything, least of all her two girls.
When Poppy was sixteen and Jasmine fourteen Anna took a fatal overdose of drugs. The Coroner called it death by misadventure but Poppy wondered if her mother had wanted out of the world that seemed to hold nothing for her.
An aunt took them in. She too spoiled Jasmine, doting on the exceedingly pretty girl. Poppy went to college to take business studies and also took a secretarial course part-time. It wasn’t what she saw herself doing for the rest of her life but she thought it might be useful. It wasn’t that she was plain; that she didn’t have a personality, that she wasn’t fun to be around. It was just that no one saw her when Jasmine was there. Sighing, not liking where this indulgence was leading, Poppy left the seat; she stretched up her hands and started to do a couple of exercises. Not enjoying it without the music, she went and rummaged in her bag until she found her i-pod. That was much better. Salsa tunes always got her going. Anything with a fast Latino beat was good; soon she felt the warmth of perspiration breaking out all over her body, her breath came in little gasps. This was good.