Cally kept her voice steady somehow. 'It's good to see you, too, Adele. And nice to know you haven't changed.'
Adele laughed. 'Oh, Nick's the one for alterations. You won't recognise the place since your last brief visit. I gather he's transformed that gothic horror of a master bedroom that Ranald was so stubborn about into a real love nest. Of course, I had no idea it was intended for you.'
'Well, life's just full of surprises,' Cally said lightly. She turned to the housekeeper, who was standing behind them, looking faintly agonised. 'Perhaps you'll show me this amazing transformation upstairs, Mrs Thurston? I'd like to tidy myself after the journey. And then we'll all have tea in the drawing room.' She smiled up into Nick's icy face. 'Please entertain our guest for me, darling. I won't be long.'
Without hurrying, she began to climb the stairs, following the housekeeper along the gallery at the top until they reached a pair of double doors, which Mrs Thurston threw open.
"This is the master suite, Lady Tempest. I do hope you'll be comfortable.'
Cally found herself in a large bedroom with pale walls and a low ceiling. There was a pretty Edwardian dressing table, with a satin stool, and apart from that the major piece of furniture was a four-poster bed, canopied in a rich dark blue edged with cream, with a matching quilted cover. The large windows were hung with the same fabric.
Cally forced a smile. 'It's—absolutely lovely.'
Mrs Thurston permitted herself a pleased smile then hurried to open a door on the other side of the room, revealing a short passage, with more doors on either side.
"There's another bedroom at the end, which Sir Nicholas has been using up to now,' she announced. 'The dressing room, which is shared, is on the left, and the bathroom is directly opposite. If there's anything you need, you have only to ring.'
'I'm sure you haven't forgotten a thing,' Cally assured her.
The other woman hesitated. 'If I may say something, your ladyship? I—I'm really sorry about what happened downstairs just now. I knew Sir Nicholas wouldn't want any kind of intrusion today, but I didn't realise Lady Tempest was in the house.'
She shook her head. 'It was such a beautiful day, I opened the French windows in the drawing room. I suppose she walked across the garden from the Dower House and simply came up the terrace steps. I couldn't believe my eyes when I went in with the flowers and found her sitting on the sofa.'
Mrs Thurston paused. 'And, of course, she used to live here..."
'Which makes it doubly difficult to ask her to leave,' Cally supplied wryly. 'Please don't worry, Mrs Thurston. I'm sure my husband will deal with the situation.' She pulled a face. 'I suspect he's used to it.'
Mrs Thurston smiled dutifully, but she still seemed troubled as she left the room.
And why shouldn't she be? Cally asked herself, tossing her handbag on to the bed. I'm pretty troubled myself. Things are bad enough without Adele aiming her poison darts at every available target.
To find her waiting was turning the clock back with a vengeance.
She found her way to the bathroom, and washed her face and hands in cool water. It was die height of luxury, she thought, eyeing the creamy marble that tiled the walls and floor with reluctant appreciation. She was less certain about the big sunken bath and enormous shower cabinet, both of which looked as if they'd been deliberately designed for dual occupation.
What would she do if Nick insisted on those kind of intimacies? she wondered, her throat dry. What could she do?
When she emerged, she paused, then walked the few yards to the other bedroom and peeped round the door. With its double bed, in a fitted olive-green coverlet, and matching oak tallboys, it was a much plainer room, its ambience uncompromisingly masculine.
This was where Nick had been steeping—when he slept at home. And maybe he would still choose to spend some of his nights here.
Her senses seemed to pick up the faint fragrance of the cologne he used, making his presence suddenly and formidably real, and she retreated hastily back to the master bedroom, feeling like Bluebeard's wife.
While she'd been in the bathroom their overnight bags had been brought up, and as she rummaged in her case for her brush and comb she saw the nightdress she'd worn the previous night was lying on top of the other things. She lifted it out, shaking the creases out of its folds, wondering whether or not she would be permitted to wear it tonight. Asking herself too, her stomach cramping nervously, exactly what Nick would expect from her.
In physical terms she knew what to anticipate, of course, although it was all theory without practice. And while she might resent the idea of his body invading hers, it wasn't particularly scaring. No, it was that extra emotional dimension that haunted her, made her curse her inexperience.