‘And this is the guest room…’
The guest room was equally spacious and beautiful, with period furniture and a four-poster bed with a dark blue tester.
One of the first things Tina noticed was that her coat and case had been brought up and placed on a low blanket chest.
Though Richard must have noticed it too, he made no comment. He merely went on, ‘At one time this room was used as a dressing room. It was Mother’s idea to make it into a guest bedroom, in case I wanted to bring a friend. Though I never did,’ he added wryly.
Indicating the guest bathroom, he asked, ‘How long do you need? Will fifteen minutes be enough?’
‘Ample, thank you.’
‘Then I’ll have a quick shower and shave and wait for you in the hall.’ He turned away.
Remembering the intimacy of that morning, she felt a queer sense of loss and disappointment. But she recognised that it was her attitude that was responsible for the change in him. She had altered things by her refusal to get involved any further.
Biting her lip, she went into an ivory and peach tiled bathroom which was not only well-equipped but sumptuous in the extreme, with a shelf full of luxurious toiletries, a couple of towelling robes and a pile of big soft towels.
It was in marked contrast to the bathroom in Ruth’s bedsit, which was small and dingy, with a rusty boiler, a cracked sink and a shower stall that leaked.
When Tina had finished showering and dried herself, she wondered whether or not to change. Perhaps Richard wouldn’t bother as they were going straight back to London after they’d eaten?
But a suit and flat-heeled shoes seemed all wrong for dining in a castle, and as her case was handy…
After a quick sort through what few clothes she had brought, she decided on a silky dress the purply-blue of heliotrope and, her ankle having so far stood the strain, a pair of high-heeled court shoes.
As she stood in front of an elegant cheval-glass to brush and re-coil her hair, she saw the four-poster reflected in it and imagined her friend’s reaction to a bedroom like this.
Thinking about Ruth, it struck Tina what a lot she would have to tell her on Monday.
Only there were some things she couldn’t even tell Ruth. Things that were far too intimate, far too precious, to talk about to anyone.
Sighing, she gazed into the mirror. Her eyes looked big and dark with secrets, her cheeks and lips a little pale.
With eyebrows and lashes that were naturally several shades darker than her hair, she didn’t need mascara, but some blusher and a touch of lip gloss would improve things enormously.
Her small cosmetic case was in her bag and she toyed with the idea of slipping downstairs to fetch it, before deciding there wasn’t really time.
Ready to go down, she debated whether or not to take her coat and case with her. But in the end she put her coat over her arm and left her case where it was. No doubt Richard would ask whoever had taken it up to fetch it down again.
Though she was in good time, as she descended the stairs she saw that he was waiting for her in the hall. He had not only showered and shaved but had changed into a well-cut dinner jacket.
He looked heart-stoppingly virile and handsome and she felt all quivery inside to think what might have happened if, rather than going back to London, she’d been staying here.
But she wasn’t staying, she reminded herself sharply. As soon as dinner was over they were leaving for town.
Stepping forward, he took her hand. ‘You look delightful. That colour exactly matches your eyes.’
A shade awkwardly, she said, ‘I wasn’t sure whether you’d bother changing.’
Relieving her of her coat, he put it over a dark oak settle and tucked her hand through his arm. ‘Given the circumstances, I wouldn’t, only Mullins had laid everything out ready for me and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
‘Now, how about a pre-dinner drink in the study?’
‘A drink?’ She sounded as horrified as she felt.
Glancing at her, he burst out laughing.
He had a nice laugh, deep and infectious. ‘If you could see your face!’ Still smiling, he went on, ‘I don’t blame you for being wary, but I promise I was going to suggest something innocuous. A small sherry at the most. Nothing that would induce a hangover.’
‘Thank heaven for that,’ she said with feeling. And thought that with his tawny eyes still gleaming with amusement and his lean cheeks creased with laughter lines, he was totally irresistible.
He led her to the library-cum-study, where a cheerful log fire burnt in the grate and a drinks trolley waited.
‘So what’s it to be?’
Taking a seat by the fire, she said, ‘I’ll have that small sherry, please.’
‘Cream or dry?’
‘Dry.’
When he’d handed her a glass he sat down opposite and smiled at her.
‘Aren’t you having a drink?’
‘As I’ll be driving shortly, I’d better stick to a glass of wine with the meal.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I feel guilty.’
‘There’s really no need. You made it clear from the start that you intended to go back to town and book into a hotel. I was just hoping that when you saw Anders you might change your mind.
‘If you don’t like the idea of sharing my bed,’ he went on, ‘you could always sleep in solitary state in the guest room.’
She was sorely tempted. But if she agreed to stay and he turned on the heat, could she trust herself to hold out against him?
As he waited for her answer, he decided that if this gamble didn’t come off he would have to use delaying tactics until he found some other way to keep her here. Without rousing her suspicions.
When still she hesitated he asked, ‘Have you ever slept in a four-poster bed in a castle?’
Silently she shook her head.
‘Then why don’t you try it?’ he said persuasively. ‘It would be a new experience.’
Through lips that felt oddly stiff, she said, ‘No, I’d rather stick to my original plan,’ and braced herself to withstand an onslaught.
But, to her surprise, he gave in immediately and with good grace. ‘Very well. If that’s really what you want…’
Seeing that surprise and knowing he needed to disarm her, he added in a businesslike tone, ‘With regard to a hotel, I suggest the Rochester on Crombie Street. It’s far from luxurious, but it’s pleasant and central and not too expensive.’
‘That sounds fine,’ she agreed. ‘As we’ll be late back, it might be as well if I fetch my bag and give them a ring now.’
Damn! he thought. So much for trying to disarm her.
As she started to rise, he pressed her gently back. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll talk to reception while you drink your sherry.’
He crossed to his desk and, picking up the phone, queried, ‘Shall I make it tonight and tomorrow?’
Already regretting her decision, but knowing it was the right one, she said huskily, ‘Please.’
Depressing the receiver rest, he pretended to make the booking.
While she