CHAPTER TWO
‘WERE you in love with the lady?’ said Gabriel, quite liking the idea of Adam Dysart, betrayed lover.
‘Lust, not love,’ he said bluntly, and shrugged. ‘I’m a sight more cut up about Charlie than Della.’
‘Maybe there was a perfectly logical explanation,’ said Gabriel after a pause. ‘Perhaps he was just taking a shower.’
Adam shook his head. ‘Della had a certain look about her. At the risk of embarrassing you, Miss Brett, it was blatantly obvious that Della had just emerged from a hectic session in bed with Charlie Hawkins.’ His mouth tightened. ‘Which she was perfectly entitled to, of course. But I’m not into sharing in that context.’ His eyes met hers. ‘You think I’m unreasonable?’
‘Not in the least.’
Adam drained his glass and stood up. ‘Thanks for the drink, and the sympathetic ear—hope I haven’t bored you rigid.’
‘You haven’t,’ she assured him. It was infinitely pleasing to know that the path of Adam Dysart’s life failed to run smooth at least once in a while.
‘Harry told me you lived in London.’ He looked round at the big, low-ceilinged room. ‘How do you like it out here in the wilds?’
She smiled wryly. ‘I’m used to city traffic outside my window, so I find it a bit quiet in this part of the world.’
‘Isn’t there anyone who could come and keep you company?’
She shook her head. ‘My mother lives in London. She runs an employment agency. And no one else is available. Not at this moment in time, anyway.’
He looked sceptical. ‘But there must be some man in London missing your company right now?’
‘There is someone,’ she admitted. ‘But Jeremy also has a business to run. Besides, he suffers withdrawal symptoms if he’s away from city pavements for long.’
Adam subjected her to a lengthy scrutiny from the mane of fair hair to her feet and back again. ‘If you were mine, Gabriel Brett, I wouldn’t let a little matter of city pavements keep me away.’
She stared at him, startled into silence.
‘This afternoon it was hard to know what you looked like in your working gear, though it was obvious you’d changed a lot since last time we met,’ he went on, enjoying her reaction. ‘But you must have noticed I was totally poleaxed by the vision who opened the door to me tonight.’
Gabriel knew perfectly well that she could hold her own in the looks department when she exerted herself. And she’d had no trouble in registering Adam Dysart’s satisfying reaction at the sight of her. But she’d never thought of herself as a vision. ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly.
‘Normally, Gabriel, I’d invite you to stay at Friars Wood,’ he went on, surprising her again, ‘but at the moment I’m in sole residence, so I know you’ll turn me down. My parents are in Italy with my sister Jess and her family, and Kate is away, educating the young.’
‘Three sisters? And just you to be the centre of their attention?’
‘Actually it’s four. Fenny’s in her first year at university. Though I doubt that any one of them sees me in that light,’ he said, grinning. ‘In any case, even when they’re around I don’t live in the bosom of my family. I’ve got a converted stable block all to myself.’
A piece of news which stopped Gabriel’s thaw towards him stone-dead. Spoilt brat, she thought bitterly. ‘Thank you so much for coming round,’ she said aloud, her voice suddenly so frosty Adam frowned. ‘By the way, Dad’s in Pennington General. He’d quite like a visit if you fancy calling in. Only if you have time, of course.’
He gave her a baffled look as he walked out past the door she held open for him. ‘Of course I’ll have time.’
‘Then I know he’ll be pleased to see you. And if you bring the portrait round first thing in the morning,’ she added briskly, ‘I’ll have a look at it, give you an idea of how much time needs to be spent on it.’
‘Right,’ said Adam, his manner chilly as hers. ‘Shall we say nine? Thanks again for the beer. Goodnight.’
Gabriel closed the door on him, feeling thoroughly out of sorts. Her slice of humble pie had not been remotely humble enough for someone beholden to Adam Dysart for keeping a roof over her father’s head. Nor had it given her any enthusiasm for her supper. But preparing something would at least postpone going to bed a bit longer. Gabriel assembled a salad, made an omelette, then switched on the small portable television in the corner and watched the news while she ate. And found, ten minutes later, that most of the food was gone, the newscast was over, and she hadn’t paid attention to either, because she’d been thinking of Adam Dysart. Not least of his compliment. His reaction to his first proper sight of her had been deeply satisfying after his callous indifference all those years ago. Her eyes flashed. But if he was expecting her to massage the ego his faithless Della had injured he’d be disappointed, roof or no roof. Though it wasn’t as impossible a prospect as it should have been. Resent him or not, she could see that to most women Adam Dysart would be a pretty irresistible male specimen.
With the television on for company Gabriel made a batch of almond biscuits to take in to her father next day, then forced herself to go outside with a torch to make sure that the barn was securely locked, even though she knew perfectly well she’d seen to it as soon as Wayne and Eddie had left for the day. Afterwards she scooted inside at top speed, locked the door, switched off the television, checked that the alarms were functioning, then went on a tour of the brightly lit house before she went to her room, armed with a cup of tea and a couple of still-warm biscuits.
Sitting up in bed later, with the radio on high to drown out the creaks and groans of the old timbers as they adjusted to the falling temperature, Gabriel promised herself that when Adam Dysart arrived in the morning she would be all sweetness and light. Otherwise he might complain to Harry Brett. Who would give his daughter hell for alienating someone who was not only his favourite client but his benefactor, and endanger his own recovery in the process.
Gabriel was up early next morning, after her usual restless night, and by eight-thirty she was zipped into a fresh white cotton coverall, her hair pinned up under the baseball cap, face bare of anything other than moisturiser, and looked a lot different from the ‘vision’ of the night before. She opened up the barn, prepared her workbench with a thick, doubled blanket, and laid out the tools of her trade alongside a book sheet magnifier mounted on a wooden stand, ready to receive Adam’s mystery lady. Afterwards she went back to the house to unlock the vault in the cellar, and took out the prints Wayne and Eddie had been working on the day before. Both young men were only a couple of years out of art college, but to her relief the work they were doing under Harry Brett’s tutelage was of a standard high enough to please even his daughter’s demanding eye.
When both young men arrived on Wayne’s beloved Harley-Davidson, they were pleased, and not a little startled, to receive warm praise for their work of the previous day.
‘Thanks, Gabriel,’ said Eddie. ‘How’s your dad?’
‘Better. Much better,’ Gabriel assured him, smiling.
‘Brilliant!’ said Wayne with relief. ‘In that case, could we pop in and see him for a minute on the way home?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ she said. ‘Do him good to talk shop with you two. Oh, and by the way, I told him about Adam Dysart. And you were quite right.’ She pulled a face. ‘Feel free to crow. Dad insists I start work on the latest Dysart find right away, and leave the rest until I’ve finished it.’
‘We’ll do anything we can to help,’ said Wayne eagerly.
‘Thanks.