May gave him a long considering look before turning to get inside the passenger side of car, determined not to talk to him at all unless she absolutely had to—they had both said too much already this evening.
Luckily, Jude seemed disinclined to talk, either, driving in stony silence, the journey seeming to take twice as long to May because of the obvious tension between the two of them.
But what else could Jude have expected? He was treading on ground he had no business trespassing on.
Even if he had realised April Robine’s connection to her family, a little voice taunted her.
Yes, even then. Because it was family business, concerned the four women involved, and no one else. No matter what Jude might think to the contrary.
‘Thank you,’ she told him stiltedly once he had parked the car in the farmyard some time later.
Jude turned off the engine before turning in his seat to look at her. ‘Very politely said, May,’ he said dryly. ‘But which part of the evening are you thanking me for—the meal, or the company? Because, to my knowledge, you didn’t enjoy either one!’ he added hardly.
‘Nevertheless, thank you,’ May insisted distantly before turning to open the door and get out of the car without a second glance.
But instead of going straight into the farmhouse she walked over to barn where the last of the newly delivered ewes and lambs were being kept for the moment, switching on the low light over the door as she went in. She had already noted the lights on in the farmhouse when they’d arrived, knew that her two sisters and their fiancés were probably still up, and unwilling for the moment to go inside and face them all. Especially as they would probably all be filled with curiosity concerning her evening out with Jude.
An evening that had been a disaster from start to finish, she readily acknowledged as she dropped down onto one of the bales of hay, burying her face in her hands in total despair.
What was she going to do?
What could she do, when, despite May’s request for her not to do so, at any moment April Robine herself could come to the farm and reveal her identity to January and March? And if the other woman did that, what were January and March going to make of May’s duplicity all these years?
‘May…?’
She looked up defensively at the sound of Jude’s voice in the semi-darkness, the first indication she had had that he’d followed her into the barn rather than driving straight off after she’d got out of the car.
‘What do you want?’ she demanded, hastily wiping the tears from her cheeks as he advanced into the barn.
Jude drew in a harsh breath. ‘Why haven’t you gone into the farmhouse?’
She gave a humourless smile. ‘Why do you think?’
He moved forward, coming to sit beside her on the bale of hay. ‘I meant what I said earlier. About it being time someone was there for you for a change,’ he explained abruptly at her questioning look. ‘I’ll be there for you. If you’ll let me.’
May gave him a quizzical look. Exactly what did he mean by that remark?
Whatever he meant, she knew she couldn’t accept his offer, had to deal with this alone. As she had since her father had died.
‘Maybe there is a way in which you can help me, Jude,’ she said slowly.
He tilted his head to one side. ‘Yes?’
She straightened determinedly. ‘Buy the farm. Immediately.’
He sat back as if she had struck him. ‘Buy the farm…? But—’
‘Immediately,’ she repeated as the idea began to grow and take shape in her mind. ‘January and March can be married in London; both Will and Max are based there anyway. And—’
‘And what about you?’ Jude cut in harshly. ‘What are you going to do? Accept David Melton’s offer, after all?’
‘Of course not,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘That would defeat the whole object—’
‘Because getting away from April, as quickly and as far as possible, is the object,’ Jude finished disgustedly, turning to grasp the tops of May’s arms. ‘May, didn’t you listen to anything I said to you earlier? Can’t you see that my buying the farm under these conditions, with the sole intention of taking your sisters and yourself away from here, isn’t going to solve a thing?’ He shook her slightly. ‘April is here now. She’s real. And nothing you can do or say is going to change that.’
May shook her head determinedly. ‘Once she realises that I meant what I said earlier, she’ll go away again. Back to America—’
‘And what did you say to her that would make her do that?’ Jude frowned.