Second Chance with the Millionaire
His next words made it clear that she had not.
‘Philip Patterson tells me that you’re more or less wholly responsible for Oliver and Tara.’
‘My father appointed me as their guardian along with Fanny,’ Lucy agreed. ‘I think he was worried that Fanny would not be able to cope alone—emotionally rather than financially.’
‘So he burdened you with the responsibility for two young children plus your stepmother. Didn’t either he or Fanny stop to think that you might want a life of your own? That you might marry… have your own children?’
‘He did what he thought was best—for everyone,’ Lucy told him quietly. ‘Fanny…’
‘Fanny is a clinging vine.’
He turned to look at her, and unbelievably he smiled.
The effect on her was dizzying… electrifying. She felt as though she were suspended in space… flying almost. She put down her sewing and stood up.
‘Fanny told me this morning that she… that you possibly believe that I resent the fact that you have inherited the Manor.’ She looked down at her own interlinked fingers, searching for the courage to go on. His smile had died and when she looked into his eyes they were not encouraging.
When he made no effort to help her she released her breath in a faintly helpless way and stumbled on. ‘I want you to know that that isn’t the case, Saul. I’ve always known that you would inherit and never resented it. In fact Neville probably…’ She broke off, biting her lip, not wanting to use her other cousin as an excuse for her own behaviour. ‘I feel your inheritance is probably more of a burden to you than an asset.’ She looked directly at him now, forcing herself to meet and hold the cold grey of his eyes.
‘I see… and it’s because you don’t resent me that you’ve been studiously avoiding me ever since I arrived, is that it?’
His voice was quite calm, but so underlined with cynicism that she was engulfed by despair. This was not how she had anticipated tendering her apology and explanation.
‘Even Oliver and Tara seemed to think I was some sort of intruder… and they didn’t get that from Fanny.’
‘No, they got it from my father.’
The words were out before she could stop herself, and she bit down on her lip once again, angry with herself for being betrayed into that admission.
‘OK, so you don’t resent me. Fine.’
For some reason he seemed angry, thin lines carving cynically from his nose to his mouth. He turned, and she knew instinctively that he was about to go. Despairingly she reached out and touched his arm, and then withdrew in shock as she felt the warmth of his skin and the hardness of his bone beneath the covering of his casual shirt.
He looked at her, still frowning, watching her. Tension made her mouth dry, her tongue circling her lips defensively, watched by the narrowed gaze of those grey eyes. He was waiting, but she knew he would not wait for ever.
‘Saul I owe you an apology as well.’ She took a deep breath trying to steady her jumpy nerves. He hadn’t moved, but she was conscious of a difference in his stillness, a waiting quality that increased the tension already in the air.
‘One that’s over twelve years overdue,’ she continued shakily. ‘That summer when you came here I behaved appallingly, and I want you to know I’ve always regretted it. I hoped when you came this time we’d be able to make a fresh start…’ She risked a faint grimace. ‘Even that you might have forgotten how unkind I was. I’m afraid that summer was something of a traumatic one for me. I’d just lost my mother… and in those days I was too green to see through Neville. Not that I’m trying to shift the blame to him. I knew the way he was behaving was wrong. But I had a mammoth crush on him then and… Well, suffice it to say, since then I’ve learned exactly what he is—and isn’t—and I’ve always regretted how I behaved; not because I knew you would inherit the Manor, I’d have regretted my behaviour whoever it was directed towards, but knowing that you, too, had endured emotional and family problems that year made it much worse.’
‘Why didn’t you say any of this to me when I arrived?’ His voice was low and completely without any expression.
‘I wanted to although I must admit I hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. That you’d want to forget the past as much as I did and have a fresh start. Then when I realised you hadn’t forgotten—or forgiven—I thought that if you had time to get to know me first my apology might have more worth… more reality.’
For a moment it seemed to her that he was simply going to turn away and leave her without a word and the pain that exploded inside her was almost unendurable, far more intense than something caused by a mere blow to the pride.