Authors: Unknown
'I'm sorry,' he said.
'So am I. Please take me home.'
She hoped that he would argue, and she was stunned when he turned off the interior light and started the engine. He had called her 'love', but maybe it was just a word to him. Was it really to end like this? Defeated, Dani slumped in her seat, jostled against the side of the car as it was turned back on to the road, and then staring out into the darkness with dull eyes that kept misting over.
'You know, I have this terrible feeling,' he began quietly, 'that I've made more mistakes in the last fifteen minutes than in the rest of my life put together.'
'I doubt it,' she answered him wearily. 'You've just been honest.'
'I'm not even sure of that.' The car slid to a gentle halt and Prentice turned the engine off. 'Look . . .' He nodded through the front windscreen of the car. ' . . . there's our duckpond. I came out of there thinking that I wanted to wring your neck—after I'd kissed you first.'
'I can walk from here.' Dani got out of the car quickly, surprised that she could move so fast when her legs felt like lead. She could take no more. Not the anger, the jealousy, or the soft words that he had just uttered. He was torturing her with his changing moods, even while she recognised the emotions behind them.
Prentice McCulloch was a lonely man. Brian had said so and Dani believed him. She also suspected that for all his life he had forced his head to rule his heart, and now—maybe for the first time—the loving man inside him was fighting for recognition. And she could not help him. Dani thrust her hands deeply into the two pockets of the bright red cloak and began to walk more quickly away from him.
Footsteps on the path behind her almost made her stop, but she forced her feet to carry her onwards.
'It's a pity it's frozen over.' He loomed up beside her and slid his hand through her arm, nodding towards the duckpond. 'If it wasn't I could return the favour.'
'You could try.'
'Oh lady, that's a challenge!' She was swept up into his arms and she struggled against the powerful embrace as he held her cradled like a child.
'Will you put me down!' she blazed. 'Don't be such a fool!'
'Sorry.' Immediately she was set gently on her feet, but he kept an arm around her shoulders. 'You seem to bring out the worst in me.'
'Then it's just as well I'm leaving.' Immediately she regretted the words. They had been unnecessary and cruel.
'Don't go, Dani-girl.' He swung her around to face him, and his eyebrows were drawn together in a frown. 'Give it just a little longer.'
'Give
what
just a little longer?' she flared back at him. 'I don't understand!' Liar, liar, an inner voice mocked. 'We can't talk without your prejudice getting in the way. Prentice McCulloch, it's time you grew up and decided just what you do want!' Remember the lonely man, that inner voice warned. He can't change overnight.
'Just a child, am I?' The well-loved voice was very soft, with all the threatening quietness of a slumbering volcano. 'Just a kid? You sound like a schoolmarm, Dani Robertson.'
'That's just what I am!'
'A Victorian schoolmarm. Don't treat me like one of your pupils, damn you!'
'Then don't act like one!'
The accusation was unfair and she knew it. Deep inside him there might be a little of the child left, but he was a man. A man from the top of his russet hair to the soles of his feet. She had responded to his maleness that morning when she had found him in Brian's bed, and she had been vitally aware of it ever since.
'I'm sorry.' She took a deep breath. 'I didn't mean that. None of it. At least you're honest enough to . . .'
'To what?' He turned her and began to walk with her towards her flat.
'To tell me how you feel.' His arm was still around her shoulders. They could have been two lovers enjoying the crispness of the night before going home to bed. Only they weren't.
'Did Brian tell you that my parents were divorced?' he asked.
'Yes.' And now he would probably accuse her of gossiping.
'I'm glad. Maybe you can see why . . .'
'Yes,' she interrupted him quietly, 'I think I know what's going on inside your head. I just wish you could see me as a woman instead of a divorcee.'
He was silent after that, and Dani walked with him and listened to their footsteps on the frozen ground and wished she could find the words to help him.
'May I stay with you tonight?' He made the request very steadily and their pace did not falter. 'Father Christmas gets lonely, you know.'
He was nervous. Dani knew it just as she knew what her answer was going to be.
'No,' she said, just as quietly, while her heart cried out against the denial. To be loved by him for just one night—couldn't she give herself that? To hold and be held; to know his passion and give her own desire free rein—couldn't she give herself that? 'No,' she said again. 'I. . . can't.' And with her words, she denied both of them.
His arm around her tightened and she slipped her own arm around his waist to soften the definite words. In the silent village street, she felt as if the world was holding its breath and that the old houses were waiting—as she was—for his reply. Yet she knew he would not be angry.
'I didn't think you would,' he said finally, and this time the silence stayed with them until they reached the stairs to her flat. Then he spoke again. 'Goodnight kiss?' he asked, and his face under the street lamp was vulnerable.
Dani linked her arms around his neck and looked up into his smiling face. She felt that something had been settled between them, but she did not know exactly what it was. She just felt peaceful and happy.
'Why not?' she whispered.
'You turn my world upside-down,' he murmured. 'And I think tonight I may have behaved like the fool you called me. Forgive me?'
'Yes.'
She raised her face for his kiss and closed her eyes as his mouth found hers with tenderness and a muted passion that shook her as much as his earlier anger had. She arched her neck back for more, and he gave more, moving his lips over hers in silent, loving desire that made her bones tremble. His warmth enshrouded her, his mouth promised love, and his arms were both a trap and a haven. When he released her, she felt alone and bereft.
'You'll come to the Manor on Christmas Eve?' he asked. 'You said you would.'
'I'll come,' she murmured. She could still feel the imprint of his lips on hers, as if she had been burned.
'Goodnight, love.'
'Goodnight.'
He turned and walked away. Dani watched him go and knew that she would not be able to accept the teaching post if it was offered to her. She could not leave him. No matter what the future held for them—anguish or happiness—she could not walk away. She kicked at a stone by her feet and it rattled noisily into the gutter. She saw him turn.
'Dani. . .' His voice just reached her.'. . . this fool loves you!'
'Prentice!' She called his name, but he just waved his hand and kept walking away from her.
'Dani
, you look gorgeous!' Brian stood in the doorway of her flat and appraised her. 'Prentice will. . .' He stopped and grinned.
'Prentice will—what?' Dani picked up her evening bag and arched an eyebrow at the artist.
'Nothing.' Brian was still staring appreciatively. 'I'd like to paint you in that dress,' he continued thoughtfully. 'The shade of green is unusual and I like the cream lace. You look like ...'
'. ... a Victorian schoolmarm,' Dani finished lightly.
'No. More like a young princess.'
Dani was taken aback by the words and by the sincerity in them, and Brian returned her quizzical glance guilelessly, unnaturally tidy in a dinner jacket with his hair combed and his beard trimmed.
'Careful,' she warned, 'I'm not used to compliments from you.' Yet the words gave her a little confidence. She wanted Prentice to look at her with love in his eyes. She wanted him to see her and no one else in the room, and the thought made her smooth the skirt of the dress with the palm of her hand in a small gesture of excitement.
It was a velvet dress; simple, classical and elegant, the cream-coloured lace at her wrists and throat being echoed by a row of tiny cream-coloured pearl buttons that ran down to her waist. She had chosen it for Prentice, although she guessed he would not realise that the colour matched his eyes.
Brian helped her down the steep stairs from her flat and she stared in surprise at the familiar Volvo.
'Prentice seems to think my old car isn't good enough for his lady,' Brian said, but there was no resentment in his voice. He sounded amused. 'So he sent this over.'
His lady. Had he really said that to Brian? Dani suppressed a quiver of delight and smiled. Yet she was also curious, wondering if Prentice had been talking about her to Brian and if so, what had been said. When she was seated in the big car, she looked across at the artist.
'What has Prentice been saying?'
'Not an awful lot.' Brian snapped his seat belt into place. 'I saw him and his Dad last night and Mac was doing most of the talking.'
'Sounds like a family conference.' Dani reached for her own seat belt and tried not to sound inquisitive.
'Something like that,' Brian admitted. 'I don't think I'd be giving any secrets away if I told you that Prentice hadn't understood all the facts of his parents' divorce: He always thought hi§ mother abandoned him to live with my father. She didn't. She only left Prentice until she and my father could set up home together, and then Mac wouldn't let his son go. He got custody of Prentice and Prentice was too young to remember. Mac set him straight about a lot of things. Things I hadn't known either. From what I gathered, neither of them had sat down and really talked for a number of years. They've always been too busy and Mac didn't realise how much Prentice's attitude to women had been coloured by what happened between his mother and father. Mac was . . . very honest.'
Dani fiddled with the lace at her wrist, nervously aware that the evening was going to be important and wondering what Mac had said to his son. Immediately Brian's big hand covered her restless fingers.
'You'll spoil your dress.' The deep voice was reassuring. 'Don't worry.'
'Prentice . . .' she began hesitantly.
'Prentice is a whole lot of things.' He squeezed her fingers and then returned his hand to the steering wheel. 'Self-contained, confident and single-minded. When he ' gets an idea into his head, and when he's sure that he's right, he can give himself a lot of problems. But he listened to his father last night,' Brian turned left on to the lane that led to the Manor, 'and he isn't the kind of man to believe he can't make a mistake. You can always rely on him, Dani. I promise you that.'
It was a good testimonial to the man she loved, and Dani knew that Brian was telling the truth. It gave her hope. Prentice had said he loved her—had said it arid then walked away as if the words had scared him as much as they had thrilled her. Now, tonight, she knew that all the uncertainties would be resolved and perhaps she would get a chance to ask him why he had left her when, if he had just lifted one finger, she would have run down the street to throw herself into his arms.
'Here we are.' Brian turned into the drive of the big house and Dani caught her breath on a gasp of wonder.
The Manor was alive again. It looked so beautiful, as if all the decay and the shabbiness had been swept away and the old place was proud of itself again. Coloured lanterns were strung along the trees on each side of the drive, and these led her eyes to the house itself, blazing with lights from almost every window, triumphant in its re-birth. It seemed to be holdings out its arms in welcome to her. The two great cedars and the immaculate lawns sparkled with the frost that had lain on the ground for several days, and the stars were a bright and compelling backdrop in the clear sky.
'It's so beautiful,' Dani said softly. 'Just like a Christmas card. All it needs is some people standing outside the front door singing carols with one of those old-fashioned lanterns.'
'It is pretty,' Brian agreed. 'I'm glad you like it. The way this place looks now, we should be arriving in a coach-and-four.' He slowed the car down almost to walking pace. 'My brother has some very traditional ideas.'
The great holly wreath on the front door confirmed that opinion, and as Dani and Brian approached it, Mac appeared to greet them.
'This is what I call a real Christmas!' His eyes ran over Dani from head to foot and then the boyish grin that had so endeared him to her on their first meeting crossed his face. 'Come in, both of you. Danielle, you look beautiful.'
'Thank you.' Unused to being called by her full name, Dani suddenly felt shy, overwhelmed by the two big men on either side of her, both of whom were treating her like a highly-honoured guest. Bemused, aware that they were smiling at one another over the top of her head as if sharing some secret, Dani walked into the. hall and allowed herself to be directed upstairs to a small suite of a bedroom and bathroom decorated in soft shades of blue. It did not seem like quite the right sort of decor for a country club, and as Dani tidied her hair and stared at her reflection in the glass, her eyes looked back at her with puzzlement lurking in their depths. What was happening? It seemed as though there was some sort of conspiracy going on, some kind of drama in which she was the central character without knowing a word of the play.
It had to be Prentice. He was stage-managing the evening and as Dani watched herself, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth and her face softened. He had a flair for the dramatic, this beloved man of hers. What was he planning?
It was with a sense of delicious anticipation that Dani walked slowly along the wide galleried landing to the top of the stairs and gazed downwards. As she had expected, he was waiting for her at the bottom, his head tilted back and the lights in the hall making his russet hair gleam. He smiled and held out his hand to her.
Carefully, step by step, she descended the stairs, conscious that the soft velvet dress accentuated her slenderness and that the lace emphasised the fragility of her wrists and throat. It moved gracefully with her, seeming to give her a dignity that she had never possessed before, and as she came closer to him and saw the look of gentle pride in his eyes, she knew the truth.