The Deserving Mistress

What?

His gaze narrowed as he studied the two women more closely, noting the ebony hair, the creamy brow, deep green eyes, the generously kissable mouth, pointed determination of the chin, the slender curvaceousness of the body.

My God…!

Apart from the difference in their ages, these two women might have been sisters. But as they couldn’t possibly be sisters, that only left—

But it couldn’t be!

Could it…?

&n

bsp; CHAPTER TEN

‘YOU know, don’t you?’ May said huskily, her gaze not quite meeting Jude’s.

She had been dreading seeing him again this evening, ever since this morning at the hotel when she had finally broken her gaze from April Robine’s to turn and see Jude looking at the two of them as if he had just been punched between his eyes—or that he couldn’t quite believe what his eyes had been undoubtedly telling him. Except, May was sure by the shutter that had suddenly come down over those silver-grey pools, that he had believed it…

But after that first shocked reaction, he had continued to chat quite amiably with the two women, obviously had had no intention of going anywhere, leaving it to May to have been the one to make her departure, knowing there had been nothing further she could do there that morning. In fact, if what she suspected concerning Jude was true, she had probably made things worse.

And so she had left the hotel, totally distracted as she’d carried out the work on the farm for the rest of the day, picking up the telephone in the hallway at least half a dozen times with the intention of cancelling their dinner engagement for this evening, only to have put it down again as she’d accepted that she would only have been delaying the inevitable. Besides, there was always the possibility—more than a possibility—that Jude had questioned April once May had left the hotel…

His expression had been unreadable when he’d arrived at the farm to pick May up at exactly seven-thirty, looking extremely handsome in a dark business suit, grey shirt, and neatly knotted tie, receiving raised-brow looks from both Max and Will as they’d helped January and March prepare their own dinner, although neither man had actually made any comment about the fact that Jude and May had obviously been going out to dinner together.

May had chosen her own clothes carefully for this evening, not wanting to give the impression she’d thought she was actually going out on a date with Jude—which she most certainly wasn’t—but at the same time needing to look a bit more glamorous than she usually did. If only to give her more confidence than she’d actually felt. The fitted dark green above-knee-length dress, teamed with a contrasting black jacket, had seemed about right to her.

Although she hadn’t been quite so sure of that when they’d arrived at the French restaurant where Jude had booked them a table for the evening, having heard of its exclusivity, of course, but never having even contemplated coming here herself; a farmer’s income didn’t stretch to frequenting places like this.

Jude had been chattily polite on the drive here, very solicitous as they’d been seated at their table, consulting her on her preference to wine before ordering. But to May that had all been just delaying the inevitable, and now that they had ordered their food, the wine had been opened and poured, she knew she couldn’t delay any longer.

‘Jude?’ she prompted softly when he didn’t answer her earlier comment. ‘Did you—did you talk to April once I left this morning?’ She couldn’t exactly blame him if he had; from the look of stunned disbelief she had seen on his face this morning he had a lot of questions he needed answers to.

‘Well, of course I talked to April once you had left this morning; it would have been rude not to,’ he drawled dismissively, sipping his wine. ‘What do you think of this?’ He held up his glass. ‘Is it dry enough for you—?’

‘It’s fine,’ May dismissed impatiently, not having even tasted it, but sure that it was going to be as perfect as everything else about this tastefully decorated and efficiently run restaurant. ‘Would you stop avoiding the issue, Jude, and just—?’ She broke off, drawing in a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly before looking across at him. ‘You do know, don’t you, Jude.’ It was a statement this time rather than a question.

He grimaced, leaning forward to put down his wine-glass before answering. ‘I—damn it, May, how can it be possible?’ He frowned darkly. ‘You’re—April is—’ He made an impatient movement with his hand.

‘Yes?’ May prompted softly, almost feeling sorry for him as she sensed his confusion, his disbelief.

He gave an abrupt shake of his head. ‘Even if you hadn’t told me so yourself, Max and Will have both informed me, on separate occasions, that both your parents are dead,’ he said exasperatedly.

‘They are,’ she confirmed abruptly.

Jude gave a decisive shake of his head now. ‘We both know that isn’t true,’ he rasped. ‘May, my eyes weren’t deceiving me this morning—’

‘I never implied for a moment that there is anything wrong with your eyesight,’ May assured him dryly.

‘Then we both know that April is your mo—’

‘She gave up the right to that title twenty-two years ago when she walked out on her husband and three small daughters,’ May cut in harshly.

‘So it is true,’ Jude breathed softly, looking totally stunned now, as if, despite what he had already said, he hadn’t quite been able to believe his own suspicions until that moment of confirmation.

May picked up her glass and took a sip of her wine, giving Jude the time he needed to collect his thoughts, but at the same time giving herself some Dutch courage; this was turning out to be more traumatic than she had even imagined.

‘You didn’t ask April?’ May couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice; the pair seemed to be such friends, it had seemed logical to her that he would have talked to the other woman about his suspicions.