Something in his tone of voice made Fleur look up quickly. ‘Will you mind that?’ she asked quietly.
‘I’m getting used to the idea,’ he said. ‘Of course, I knew it would come to an end one day, but I never expected it to happen quite so soon.’ He paused. ‘I’ve made a lot of friends in London that, with the best will in the world, I’ll eventually lose touch with. It’s inevitable. I’ll be well and truly buried down here for keeps. I’ve just got to accept it.’
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. ‘It’s very annoying—to say the least—when your life is planned out for you,’ Fleur began, and he interrupted.
‘You sound as if you speak from experience,’ he said, and she smiled up at him quickly.
‘Well, in a way I do,’ she said. ‘Not that I have been given the responsibility of having to hold the reins of a large family estate, nothing like that, but…’
‘Go on,’ he said, wanting to know more.
‘It’s just that, well, I had my own plans for what I wanted to do with my life but my father had other ideas.’ She paused. ‘He persuaded me…’ she didn’t utter the more truthful word insisted ‘…that my true vocation was in the sciences, and that with my “exceptional brain”—his words, not mine—I had a duty to use it for the good of others. So that’s why I’m in medical research.’ She shook her head briefly. ‘I enjoy the work—of course I do—it’s fulfilling and very exciting when we make any sort of breakthrough. But such a lot of it is painstaking and repetitive and often very disappointing.’ She looked up at him again. ‘So there you are—that’s my life sorted out for me. And I had such ideas of my own. Probably ridiculous when I really think about it.’
He grinned back at her and for the first time Fleur saw his heart-stopping smile, a smile enlivened by immaculate, strong white teeth. ‘Go on—I’m waiting for the punch-line,’ he said.
Fleur sighed, looking away. ‘I always imagined myself as an opera singer,’ she said, almost apologetically. ‘I realize that it was probably an impossible dream—the professional stage is overwhelmingly competitive, and luck is such a huge factor. But it would have been good to at least have tried.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Not that luck is my second name—I mean, I never win anything, never win raffles or anything that relies on chance. Some people win things all the time.’
‘Yes, they do,’ he agreed. ‘Actually, I do win things now and then.’ He didn’t bother to add that in the circles he mixed in he was constantly asked to purchase massively priced tickets for good causes and that he always obliged, very generously. Which probably increased his chances. ‘But do go on,’ he said. ‘You’ve obviously had musical training?’
‘Oh, yes—I was allowed that,’ Fleur said, a slight trace of bitterness in her tone. ‘I achieved all my grades up to the point where I should have gone on to gain higher qualifications…then the paternal foot was well and truly put down. So—’ she sighed ‘—as you so rightly said, it’s hard to do two things at once. In my case, impossible.’ She shrugged. ‘So I content myself with enjoying music at a distance, as a listener and a devoted member of numerous audiences. And singing along with my CDs. When I was still living at home, that was how I learned all the famous arias, making sure that my father was never around when I was doing it. He would not have approved!’
The tangible note of regret in her voice made Sebastian’s brow crease slightly. That didn’t sound fair, he thought. ‘Well, in a way, our situations are not dissimilar,’ he said. ‘We’ve both ended up doing what others have decided we should. Although—’ he smiled down at her again ‘—in my case it was the hand of fate that merely hastened my inevitable destiny.’ He hesitated. ‘But it’s not too late for you, is it? You could change the course of things, couldn’t you?’
Fleur chuckled. ‘My father would never forgive me if I did that,’ she exclaimed. ‘And he would make me feel so guilty if I gave up my career to pursue such a dramatically different path. Which, in his view, would be a very flippant one. I mean, you don’t save lives by singing songs, do you? He has no time for music and rarely listens to any. But my mother does—though she doesn’t often play the piano any more because it disturbs my father when he’s working.’ She shook her head. ‘No, it is much too late for me now, Sebastian.’
With a little jolt of surprise, Fleur realized that that was the first time she had called him by name…but the easy conversation had seemed to put them on a more comfortable footing.
By this time they’d walked on quite a bit further than Sebastian had intended, and he glanced at the dog, who was padding rather forlornly behind them.
‘I think we ought to go back now,’ he said. ‘Benson’s had enough and we shan’t be able to see a thing in a minute, though I did bring my torch.’
Fleur smiled up at him. ‘We don’t want to tire Benson out, but I could carry on like this for hours!’
Yes, I believe she could, Sebastian thought. Even though she was obviously more used to being in town, Fleur had a definite affinity with the countryside, had picked her own way over the pits, humps and bumps of the terrain without any help from him. He hadn’t once felt the need to put his hand under her elbow, or steady her as they’d made their way. Perhaps she wasn’t as fragile as she looked.
When she knew that their walk was coming to an end, Fleur made a sudden decision—thanks to the rather unexpected familiarity which seemed to have developed between them. Keeping her eyes fixed firmly ahead, she said lightly, ‘By the way, Sebastian, you needn’t worry that I’m going to get in the way of your plans while I’m here.’ She hesitated. ‘And I’m…sorry…that Mia has put you in the unenviable position of being my “minder”. But I assure you that I am very used to looking out for myself. I do it all the time, because I live alone.’ Now she did look up to find his searching eyes—black and intense and clearly visible, even in the gloom—staring right into hers. ‘It was wrong of Mia to expect anything from you where I’m concerned—anything at all—I certainly don’t. It’s extremely kind of you—of both of you—to invite me to stay, and I don’t anticipate being bored. I can never remember being bored, in any situation,’ she added. She smiled. ‘I shall explore the area thoroughly, and lock it all into my memory so that when I get home I can relive it. And you must just…just pretend that I’m not here.’
Sebastian was ready to admit that it would be hard to follow that instruction! Fleur Richardson was the first woman for a very long time to excite his interest. But, although it was patently clear that the conversation with his sister had been overheard, it didn’t worry him in the least. He was seldom embarrassed or fazed by anything any more.
‘Isn’t there a man at home who’ll be gasping for your return?’ he asked bluntly.
Fleur smiled at that. ‘No,’ she said simply. ‘No, there isn’t.’
His rather peremptory enquiry made Fleur feel that she could ask a similar question. What was sauce for the goose…
‘And you?’ she asked coolly. ‘Don’t you have a lady ready to be mistress of Pengarroth Hall?’
‘Don’t bother to ask,’ he replied, his mouth tightening at the thought.
Just before they stepped into the pool of light shining from the house, they both automatically slowed in their tracks, as if neither of them wanted to bring this particular time to an end, and standing closer to her now, closer than he had during their walk, Sebastian looked down at her.
‘I do have things to do during January,’ he said, ‘but I’m also due for some time off. So…as Mia has told me I must, it will give me great pleasure to spend some of