But though he was obviously roused, he had made no attempt to take advantage of the situation. Rather he had backed off.
She felt a rush of gratitude. If he had stopped the car and touched her, she would have been lost, and to get involved with someone like Simon Farringdon would be madness.
He might be used to casual sex and one-night stands, but she certainly wasn’t. And while he would no doubt be able to walk away afterwards without a second thought, she knew instinctively that she wouldn’t be able to.
The experience would at best be unforgettable, at worst, scar her. Either way she would never be the same again.
For what seemed an age, but in reality could only have been a minute or so, they drove in silence. Then, unable to bear the tension a second longer, Charlotte rushed into breathless speech.
‘Just a moment ago I thought I glimpsed some buildings behind those trees…’
‘That’s Aston Prava…’ Simon’s voice sounded restricted ‘…it was purpose-built about ten years ago to house the estate workers. Though the hamlet looks in period, the houses are slap up-to-date with all mod cons, and the tenants even have their own village shop and post office. Until then the outside staff had been scattered in various small cottages throughout the estate, without mains water or electricity.’
‘How did they manage?’ she asked abstractedly.
‘With bottled gas, and water pumped from the nearest stream or their own well.’
‘I can’t imagine any of them minded moving.’
‘The majority were delighted.’ Simon’s voice sounded more normal now. ‘Only Ben Kelston, our old gamekeeper, asked to stay where he was. His two-up, two-down cottage is in the woods miles from anywhere, and, as he was turned sixty at the time and doesn’t drive, Grandfather tried to talk him out of it. But he said firmly that he’d been born and bred at Owl Cottage—his father had been gamekeeper before him—and he didn’t want to leave. While a move might have been in Ben’s best interests, it would be a real shame if Owl Cottage was allowed to stand empty. It’s a picturesque timber-framed, cruck-trussed building that dates from the early fifteen-hundreds.’
‘It sounds delightful.’
‘It’s a perfect little gem. Unfortunately it’s so isolated that it’s unlikely anyone else would want to live in it.’
Grasping at the conversation as she would have grasped at a lifeline had she been drowning, she asked, ‘So is Ben still there?’
‘He was until a few days ago, when he fell and broke his hip. Frank happened to call in as he was passing, and found him lying on the scullery floor. He’s in hospital at the moment, and Frank and his wife are looking after things until he’s well enough to return home.’
‘Will he be all right, do you think?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Up to now he’s looked after himself well enough, and he’s kept the cottage spotlessly clean.’
‘But surely he won’t be able to manage the stairs?’
‘A few months ago, when he had a minor accident, Frank and I brought his bed downstairs, so that won’t present a problem…’
To Charlotte’s great relief, by the time they reached the electronically controlled north gates any awkwardness seemed to be forgotten, and she began to look forward to the evening ahead.
In the event, it proved to be a great success. The food at the Oulton Arms was tasty and satisfying, and they both thoroughly enjoyed the concert.
Though earlier the threatened bad weather had manifested itself only as a brisk wind and some light rain, by the time they left the village hall it was blowing a gale and pouring down.
Simon took her hand and together they sprinted for the car, arriving wet and, in Charlotte’s case, breathless. A condition caused more by the touch of his hand than by the run!
Jumping in beside her, he switched on the engine and turned up the heater, before passing her a folded handkerchief. ‘I’m afraid this is the best I can do in lieu of a towel.’
‘Thank you.’ She wiped the rain from her face and hair, and handed it back.
He followed suit in a cursory manner before dropping the sodden ball of linen onto the floor.
His fair hair was darkened by water, and fine beads of moisture still clung to his eyebrows and thick lashes. She watched a single drop trickle down his lean cheek, and shivered as she felt a sudden mad urge to brush it away.
Noticing that involuntary movement, he said, ‘We’d best take the most direct route and get back as quickly as we can so you don’t catch a chill.’
The wipers, even going at top speed, barely managed to keep the windscreen clear as they eased carefully through the crush of home-going cars and headed out of the village.
Once they were through the Hall gates and into the wooded area of the estate, the road became littered with torn-off twigs and small branches.
Their lights making a dazzling tunnel between the trees, he drove with even greater care, picking his way through the fallen debris.
Charlotte had turned her head to look at a swollen brown stream rushing past, when all of a sudden they swerved and left the track, coming to a halt halfway up a shallow, mossy bank.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured her quickly, ‘there’s no problem. I just had to swerve to avoid a badger.’
He turned the ignition key to restart the car.
She waited for the reassuring roar, but apart from the wind and rain there was silence.
As he tried again the headlights abruptly died, leaving them in total darkness.
‘Hell!’ he swore softly. ‘I’m afraid we do have a problem after all.’
‘What’s wrong?’ She managed to keep her voice even.
‘Frank said that last week the electronics had developed an intermittent fault, but this looks more like the battery. He took the car into the local garage, and when he picked it up the head mechanic assured him the fault had been fixed. But it seems he was mistaken.’
‘Can you phone for help?’ she asked hopefully.
‘I could if I had my mobile with me. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring it.’
‘Oh,’ she said in a small voice.
‘The last time I took it to a concert I’m afraid I forgot to switch it off, and it rang in the middle of ‘‘Silent Worship’’.’
She laughed, then asked as cheerfully as possible, ‘So what do we do now? Walk?’
There was a rending, splintering sound, and a sizeable branch crashed down close to the car, making her jump.
She saw the gleam of his eyes in the darkness. ‘I think not. It’s a devil of a long way, and apart from the fact that neither of us are equipped for it, it wouldn’t be safe to walk far in this kind of weather. Our best bet would be to shelter until morning, then reassess the situation.’
‘You mean stay in the car?’
‘No. As we’re already wet and the heater’s not working, that would be much too cold and uncomfortable. Our best bet is Owl Cottage.’
‘Is it far away?’
‘Not more than a hundred metres or so. It’s on the other side of the stream we’ve been running parallel to, but the bridge is just up ahead. Once at the cottage we’d be able to light a fire and have a hot drink of some kind.’
Though the thought of having a fire and a hot drink was more than welcome, she asked practically,