‘Hello, there.’ Richard calling to them from the open doorway of the garden interrupted what Hugh had been about to say.
For which Sabina was more than grateful; she hadn’t known what she would have said if Hugh had persisted along this line of questions concerning her feelings towards Brice! The realisation of her love for Brice was still too new, the whole situation too raw to emotional turmoil, that she didn’t want to even think about it just now, let alone talk about Brice!
Although she wasn’t sure she felt ready to face Richard at the moment, either…
‘Look who I just met outside,’ Richard told them lightly as he stepped to one side to reveal someone standing behind him in the garden doorway.
Sabina found herself looking at her own mother!
What—?
Sabina looked at her mother frowningly, totally bewildered at the suddenness of her appearance here, of all places. If Brice had dared to carry out that threat to telephone her mother—
‘Joan…’ Hugh croaked gruffly.
Sabina turned to look at him, only to find that Hugh looked more than a little uncomfortable himself at this sudden turn of events, embarrassed even, a flush of those ruddy cheeks, anxiety in the deep blue of his eyes.
And then the truth hit Sabina with the force of a blow between the eyes.
Hugh had talked to her of having recently fallen in love.
Her mother had done something similar when they’d met in London for lunch last week.
Hugh McDonald, Brice’s grandfather, was the man in her mother’s life!
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘SABINA, I think you’re totally overreacting—’
‘I didn’t ask for your opinion!’ She turned harshly on Brice as he sat on the side of her bed watching as she threw clothes haphazardly into the suitcase beside him. ‘In fact, in the circumstances, I think the best thing you can do is not to say a single word on the subject!’ She glared at him angrily, eyes glittering deeply blue, her whole body tense with repressed fury.
Some of which, Brice conceded grimly, she was perfectly entitled to feel.
He had arrived downstairs a few minutes ago, just in time to see Sabina come storming through the front doorway, hot wings of temper in the usual paleness of her cheeks.
‘What on earth—?’
‘Leave her, Brice,’ his grandfather had instructed harshly as he’d followed closely behind Sabina.
‘But—’
‘I said leave her!’ his grandfather rasped coldly, both men standing in the hallway watching Sabina before she disappeared round the curve of the stairs.
Brice turned back to his grandfather. ‘What on earth is going on?’ he demanded to know; Sabina might be in some strange sort of mood with him, but she had seemed to like his grandfather well enough last night. ‘What have you done to Sabina?’ he prompted accusingly.
Something flickered in his grandfather’s gaze, an emotion he quickly masked, although his expression remained grim. ‘I haven’t done anything to her, laddie,’ he grated, his accent all the stronger because of his own repressed anger. ‘At least—’ he frowned ‘—nothing deliberately designed to hurt or upset her.’
‘You seem to have succeeded in doing both,’ Brice pointed out tersely, torn between a desire to run after Sabina, and the need to stand here and hear what his grandfather had to say.
His grandfather held up defensive hands. ‘It seemed like an act of providence when you told me you were bringing Sabina here this weekend.’ He shook his head. ‘But, unfortunately, before I had time to explain the situation to her—’
‘Go back a step, Grandfather,’ Brice cut in evenly. ‘What was providential about my bringing Sabina here…?’ He frowned his wariness of the possible answer.
Although he couldn’t for the life of him think what that answer might be. As far as he was aware Sabina and his grandfather had never met before, so what could the elderly man possibly have needed to explain to her…?
‘I think I might better be able to answer that for you,’ a calm, female voice remarked from the direction of the doorway.
Brice turned frowningly. A tiny blonde-haired woman stood there, a woman probably aged in her sixties, despite the shoulder-length of her hair, the pretty face and slenderness of her figure. A woman Brice knew he had never seen before.
And yet…
As he looked at her he realised there was something tantalisingly familiar about the deep blue of her eyes, those high cheekbones, and the creaminess of her skin…
Sabina had said she looked like her father, and yet here was clear evidence that wasn’t completely true…
Brice drew in a ragged breath. ‘I see.’
The woman tilted her head engagingly to one side. ‘Do you?’
‘I believe so.’ Brice nodded slowly, turning back to his grandfather. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Because it was more than obvious to Brice now that it was Sabina’s mother who was his grandfather’s ‘friend’.
Was it any wonder that Sabina was upset?
His grandfather moved to put a protective arm about the shoulders of the woman Brice only knew as Sabina’s mother. ‘Joan didn’t exactly have a pleasant time of it when she tried to tell Sabina about us the other week,’ his grandfather rasped. ‘You young people seem to think you have some sort of monopoly when it comes to falling in love!’ he added disgustedly.
‘Excuse me.’ Richard Latham spoke icily from behind the older couple, stepping into the hallway as they moved to one side. ‘Is Sabina upstairs?’ he prompted curtly.
‘She is,’ Brice confirmed grimly; he had been wondering where the other man had got to!
Richard Latham nodded abruptly. ‘Sabina and I will be leaving shortly. We’ll need a taxi to drive us to the nearest airport,’ he added arrogantly.
‘I’ll drive you,’ Brice told him coldly.
Richard Latham gave him a scathing glance. ‘I don’t think so. But if you could see to the ordering of the taxi…?’ He gave a dismissive nod before following Sabina up the stairs.
Almost as if he were some sort of hired help. Brice fumed angrily, finding himself wanting to follow the other man up the stairs and punch him squarely in the face!
‘Richard doesn’t like me, I’m afraid.’ Joan Smith spoke ruefully. ‘I’ve been a little too outspoken concerning his suitability as a fiancé for Sabina,’ she admitted with a grimace.
‘In that case—’ Brice turned back to the quietly spoken woman ‘—I like you very much!’ he told her with satisfaction.
Joan laughed huskily, a laugh so like Sabina’s, Brice felt an ache in his chest just at the sound of it.
Sabina…
What must she be feeling? More to the point, what must she be thinking?
‘I have to go up and talk to Sabina,’ he told the older couple distractedly. ‘Before Latham has a chance to add his particular brand of poison to the confusion,’ he added harshly.
‘You’re wasting your time, I’m afraid,’ her mother told him sadly. ‘In the last few months I’ve watched my beautiful, self-confident daughter turn into someone I hardly recognise.’ She shook her head regretfully.
Brice looked at her frowningly, wanting to pursue the subject, but at the same time knowing he had to speak to Sabina. Now.
‘Hold that thought,’ Brice told Joan forcefully. ‘And don’t go away before I have a chance to talk to you again,’ he urged even as he began to ascend the stone stairs two at a time.
‘Joan isn’t going anywhere,’ his grandfather assured him firmly.
Brice hadn’t been sure whether he’d been relieved or disappointed when he’d entered Sabina’s bedroom a few minutes later to find her alone; half of him had still been hoping to actually carry out his urge to hit Richard Latham. Although, in the circumstances, that probably wasn’t such a good idea at the moment…
‘Sabina,’ he tried again now, ‘is it really so awful that my grandfather and your mother have become—friends?’ he concluded awkwardly, having no idea how far the relationship between the older couple had progressed. Although the two of them did intend holidaying in Paris together.
Sabina resumed throwing her clothes into the suitcase. ‘I told you I don’t want to talk about it!’ she snapped.
Brice frowned. ‘Is that the way you usually deal with things nowadays—bury your head in the sand and hope they’ll go away?’ he challenged.
She looked at him with narrowed eyes. “‘Nowadays”…?’ she repeated warily.
He shrugged. ‘Your mother seems to be of the opinion that you’ve changed since you became engaged to Latham.’ Brice saw no harm in trying to get a few answers himself as to the reason for the change in her that Joan had noticed.
‘Really?’ Sabina dismissed with a shrug. ‘I’ve already told you that my mother and Richard don’t like each other.’
Implying her mother was simply prejudiced in her opinion. Except that Brice found he didn’t believe that of the woman he had just met downstairs…
He was still amazed at the fact that his grandfather and Sabina’s mother had somehow found each other and apparently fallen in love. The chances of that happening had to be incredible.