‘Darling? Would you be a love and get Sophia a nice glass of champagne?’
‘No!’
The loud, vehement refusal sent a buzz of shock eddying round the other guests—Jarrett included …
SHE felt like a fool, blurting out her refusal as forcefully as she had. As soon as the impassioned exclamation had left her mouth Sophia had wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. It made her feel like the one jarring note in a symphony that had been harmonious until her arrival. Yet, blunt as her refusal had been, she had good reason to detest alcohol. Living with a violent alcoholic whose behaviour had been coloured by terrifying unpredictable rages was apt to make a woman deeply despise it—fear it as well.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, reddening. ‘I just meant to say that I’m teetotal. Do you have some lemonade or cola, perhaps, instead?’
‘Sure. No problem.’
Paul Harvey shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos and Sophia saw that his initially welcoming manner was now tinged with wariness. It made her bitterly regret deciding to attend the party. It was true she’d wrestled with the idea of staying away. That was why she and Charlie had arrived so late. As her host turned away to get the promised soft drink, his wife Beth issued her a sympathetic smile. Along with her guests, no doubt she was privately wondering at the reason why the newest member of the village should have reacted to the offer of champagne so violently.
Sophia prayed that the other woman wouldn’t take it upon herself to quiz her at any point. The last thing she felt like doing was explaining herself to her perfect-looking hostess with her perfect-looking life, friends and husband. How could such a protected woman even begin to understand the pain, degradation and humiliation of the life Sophia had led with her husband? And all the reasons why she hated alcohol?
Silently warring with the strongest urge to just turn around and leave, she let her anxious gaze fall into Jarrett’s. His strong brow was etched with the faintest frown, yet when his clear blue eyes met hers he somehow transmitted reassurance. She found herself latching onto it like a life raft.
Jarrett didn’t yet know what Sophia’s issues with alcohol were, but he was determined to find out. He’d genuinely hoped that this party would help her to make some friends, so that she and Charlie wouldn’t feel like isolated strangers in the community for long, but already he sensed that her unconventional appearance—not bowing to the dictates of current fashion trends—and her forthright refusal of an alcoholic drink had put the other guests on their guard.
Unfortunately the insular nature of village life didn’t exactly nurture a broader view in its inhabitants, he mused. He was thankful that he had seen enough of the world to know that it was the differences in people that made them interesting. But he also realised that his desire to help her integrate could turn out to be much more complicated than he’d envisaged. He had been the one to encourage her to come to this little get-together of his sister’s and now, without being party to the reasons why, he saw for himself that what might be deemed an enjoyable experience by others might actually be torture for her. Observing her flushed cheeks and over-bright eyes, it wasn’t hard to guess that what she’d really like to do was escape as soon as possible.
‘Sophia?’ He stepped towards the slim brunette, but not so close that he might overwhelm her. ‘Why don’t you and I go and join Charlie and Dylan in the garden? We’ll get your drink on the way, and go sit on the veranda outside the summerhouse.’
Her relief was palpable. Right then, observing her shining green eyes and schoolgirl plaits, Jarrett thought her the very personification of beauty and innocence, and all his protective instincts surged to the fore, making his heart miss a disturbing beat. It was easy to forget about his desire to purchase High Ridge for himself when he was with her. Yet the thought still occurred that it might help persuade her to sell if he seriously started to woo her.
In the large, meticulously mown garden, with its uniformly neat borders of flowers and shrubs, Jarrett sat down next to Sophia on the varnished wooden bench outside the white-painted summerhouse. He silently observed her son throwing the ball to Dylan. The dog’s dark eyes and wagging tail gave the impression he couldn’t believe his luck that somebody wanted to play with him.
Folding her slim, elegant hands with their short unvarnished nails round her glass of lemonade, Sophia drew in a long breath, then softly released it. ‘They look like they’re having fun,’ she commented, her glance cautiously alighting on Jarrett.
‘Labradors and small boys were meant to be together,’ he agreed, silently owning to feeling more content at this moment, in this lovely woman’s company, than he could remember having felt in a long time. The revelation was an unexpected and tantalising gift that made the idea of wooing her even stronger.
Several guests had moved outside with their refreshments onto the patio, he noticed, and immediately the sight put him on his guard. Every now and then they glanced over at Jarrett and his companion, clearly speculating on their apparent closeness. He made a point of deliberately meeting their glances and staring right back.
‘It’s a shame that Beth and Paul haven’t got kids that can play with Dylan,’ he commented, seeking to divert Sophia from the realisation that his sister’s guests were paying them an inordinate amount of attention.
‘How long have your sister and her husband been married?’
‘About ten years, I think.’
‘Do they want to have children?’
‘They’ve said many times that if it happens it happens … but in the meantime they’ll concentrate on their careers and just enjoy each other’s company.’
‘Are they happy?’
Pausing, Jarrett gave the question proper consideration. He had straight away registered the apprehension, hope and even envy in the arresting emerald eyes that studied him so fervently, and he guessed the answer was important to her. ‘I think so.’ He shrugged, smiling, then added, ‘Although anyone can present an image of happiness, contentment and togetherness, can’t they? In truth, only the individuals concerned know if they’re happy or not.’
‘I agree. Unfortunately if they seem happier than you, then you can feel a bit of a failure.’
Intrigued, Jarrett leaned forward a little.
‘Have you ever asked yourself why happiness seems to come so easily to some and not to others?’ she pondered. ‘Do you think it’s got anything to do with deserving it?’
‘No. I don’t think it’s got anything to do with deserving it,’ he replied. ‘There are too many examples in the world to disprove that. Why? Has someone told you that it has?’
‘No. Maybe I just feel too guilty about the wrong turns I’ve made.’
‘It sounds to me as if you’re much too hard on yourself. Maybe if you could just dump all the guilt that weighs you down and try to be more optimistic things might get a little easier for you, Sophia? I know you can’t control everything that happens in life, but I must confess I’m a strong believer in creating your own luck … being captain of your own ship.’
‘Oh.’
‘Do you have other views on the matter?’
Working her even white teeth against her plump lower lip, Sophia lightly shook her head. ‘I do—but I think they might be somewhat prejudiced. I started out being very optimistic about life … convinced that I knew which road to take to make me happy. But although I remained optimistic and hopeful I made some very poor decisions that made me anything but. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?’
‘We all make poor decisions and mistakes from time to time. It comes