Everything about her mother was controlled and careful, from her coiffured blonde head down to her moderately heeled black shoes, the latter worn to complement the black suit and cream blouse she was wearing today.
Sabina loved her mother dearly, had always admired her—she had just never been able to talk to her! Which was one of the reasons these half-yearly lunches together were such a trial. To both of them, Sabina felt sure.
‘I only asked because I’m thinking of taking a short holiday early in the autumn, and I wouldn’t like it to clash with your wedding,’ her mother continued evenly.
‘That will make a lovely change.’ Sabina nodded approvingly; her mother seemed to lead a very uneventful life at her cottage home in Scotland. ‘Are you going anywhere nice?’ she added interestedly, relieved to have a neutral topic they could converse on.
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ her mother dismissed with a brief smile. ‘I—I’m going with a friend,’ she added awkwardly, her gaze suddenly not quite meeting Sabina’s. ‘We thought perhaps Paris for a few days might be rather fun.’
Sabina frowned across the table at her mother. Fun? It wasn’t a word she usually associated with her carefully controlled mother. There was something—
‘Do I know this friend?’ she prompted lightly, suddenly knowing, from the blush slowly creeping up her mother’s cheeks, that she didn’t.
Because the ‘friend’ was male!
Quite why Sabina should feel so shaken at the knowledge, she wasn’t sure. Her father had been dead for five years, her mother was only in her mid-sixties, and still a very attractive woman; tiny, her figure slim, shoulder-length blonde hair always neatly styled, the beauty of her face barely lined. But somehow the thought of her mother going away on ‘a short holiday’, to romantic Paris of all places, with a man other than Sabina’s father, threw her into total confusion.
All in all, she decided now as she gave one last check of her appearance in the mirror before going downstairs to wait for Brice McAllister’s arrival, this had not been a good day.
And she very much doubted dinner with Brice McAllister was going to make it any better!
CHAPTER FIVE
IT HADN’T needed a mind-reader, when Brice had arrived at the house to pick Sabina up half an hour ago, to know that she wished she were spending her evening in any other way than having dinner with him!
Even now they had arrived at the quietly elegant restaurant, Sabina was anything but relaxed. It was up to Brice to see that she became so. Because she might not have been looking forward to seeing him this evening, but he certainly didn’t feel the same way about spending the evening with her!
Sabina intrigued him. Her beauty was mesmerising, very much so in the simple figure-hugging black dress she wore tonight, everyone in the restaurant turning to stare at her admiringly a few minutes ago as the two of them had walked to their table. But it was the woman behind that beauty that interested Brice too, the intelligence behind those deep blue eyes.
Wary blue eyes. Which was why Brice had decided, before coming out this evening, rightly or wrongly, that he wouldn’t pursue the subject of her reaction to the arrival of the letter in the green envelope. Not that he intended forgetting about it, but if he pressed Sabina for an explanation this evening he probably wouldn’t see her for dust. Also, a part of him knew that she was half expecting him to ask her about it, and, perversely, he had decided not to do so!
‘How did your lunch go with your mother?’ he asked lightly instead as they perused the menus.
‘Fine,’ she answered brightly.
But Brice wasn’t fooled by that dismissive façade, had seen the shadow that had entered her eyes at the mention of her mother. He had what he considered a pretty healthy relationship with his own mother—they were good enough friends that he didn’t interfere in her life as long as she didn’t interfere in his.
But he knew from the little Sabina had told him of her own mother that the two of them didn’t have that sort of relationship.
He gave Sabina a considering look. ‘Sure?’
She frowned across at him. ‘Of course I—’ She broke off with a sigh. ‘No, not really,’ she conceded ruefully, fidgeting with her wineglass. ‘It wasn’t like our usual lunches together at all.’
Brice put down his menu, already knowing what he was going to choose, having been to this restaurant many times before. ‘In what way?’
She shrugged. ‘It seems that my mother has a boyfriend,’ she disclosed reluctantly. ‘Well…not a boyfriend, exactly.’ She grimaced at the term. ‘But there is a man she intends going on holiday with to Paris in the autumn,’ she added frowningly.
‘Isn’t that good?’ But Brice already knew that in Sabina’s eyes it wasn’t, could hear the underlying strain in her voice. ‘She’s been on her own for five years, and she must only be in her mid-sixties…?’ Sabina was only aged in her mid-twenties, and she had said her mother had been forty-one when Sabina had been born…
‘Sixty-six,’ Sabina confirmed, giving a self-conscious grimace. ‘I’m being selfish, aren’t I? I’ve just never thought of my mother in that way.’ She shook her head.
‘Obviously this man has,’ he said without thinking—and then wished he hadn’t when he saw the disconcerted look on Sabina’s face. ‘I’m sorry, Sabina,’ he at once apologised. ‘It’s just—’
‘I know, I know,’ she cut in self-derisively, taking a sip of the white wine Brice had chosen for them to enjoy before their meal. ‘I really don’t know why I’m even bothering to tell you this.’ She gave an embarrassed laugh. ‘I’m sure you can’t be in the least interested.’
Now there she was completely wrong; as Brice was only too aware, everything about this woman interested him! In fact, he couldn’t remember being this interested in a woman for years…
‘But I am,’ he assured her softly.
She shook her head. ‘Please forget I ever mentioned it. I’m being silly.’
And Brice knew she was also unhappy with herself for having spoken to him about it!
‘What is it you find strange about the situation?’ he persisted lightly. ‘The fact that your mother may have found a man she obviously enjoys spending time with? Or the fact that it isn’t your father?’ he added gently, already knowing it was probably the latter.
‘Stupid, isn’t it?’ Sabina murmured self-disgustedly.
‘Not in the least,’ Brice instantly assured her. ‘I don’t think you’ve met my cousin Logan and his wife Darcy…?’
Sabina shook her head, her puzzled expression showing she had no idea where this conversation could possibly be going. ‘I believe they were at the Hamilton party the night we first met, but I wasn’t introduced to them, no.’
‘Well, the two of them fell in love with each other while they were trying to prevent a relationship between Darcy’s father and Logan’s mother.’ And a merry old tangle it had been at the time, as Brice easily recalled.
But he could see he definitely had Sabina’s attention now.
‘What happened to the father and mother?’ she prompted curiously.
Perhaps, he realised too late, making that particular comparison hadn’t been such a good idea, after all! ‘They were married about a month before Logan and Darcy,’ he revealed reluctantly as he realised that was probably the last thing Sabina wanted to hear.
‘Oh,’ she concluded flatly.
But Brice could see her thoughts were still preoccupied as they ordered their meal. She really didn’t diet to keep that wonderful figure, ordering asparagus smothered in butter as a starter, followed by steak in Stilton sauce accompanied by Lyonnaise potatoes as her main course.
‘I’ll probably have something gooily chocolate as dessert too,’ she apologised as she saw him watching her indulgently once the waiter had departed with their order.
Brice wasn’t complaining; after years of having dinner with women who chose the items on the menu with the least calories, and then proceeded to only pick at even those when they arrived, it was a refreshing change to be with a woman who obviously enjoyed her food.
‘Be my guest,’ he invited warmly. ‘You’re just the sort of customer Daniel loves to cook for,’ he assured her.
‘You know the chef here?’ She took another sip of her white wine.
Brice gave a rueful grimace as he realised he had done it again. ‘Would you believe Chef Simon is Darcy’s father?’
Sabina laughed huskily. ‘I’d believe it.’ She smiled. ‘He’s married to the actress Margaret Fraser, isn’t he?’
‘My Aunt Meg.’ Brice nodded. ‘They’re very happy together.’
‘I said I believe you!’ Sabina laughed again, visibly relaxing. ‘I wonder who this “friend” of my mother’s is?’ she mused curiously. Obviously having now spoken about it, she was slowly coming to terms with the fact that her mother was involved with someone.
‘Why don’t you ask her next time you talk to her?’ he prompted lightly. ‘She would probably appreciate that.’