Stronger Than Yearning

Too intelligent to practise self-deception, Jenna acknowledged as she banished the image, she suspected that her contempt for the male sex sprang from a deep-seated need to protect herself from the same sort of agony her sister had known. Where sex itself was concerned, her feelings were even more confused. She had never met any man who aroused in her a sexual desire that was strong enough to overcome all her deeply buried fears. Perhaps because she equated sex with what had happened to Rachel. Whatever the case she had been scrupulous about not passing on her own feelings to Lucy. She desperately wanted Lucy to have everything she herself had never had. That was why it hurt so much when Lucy had flung her heedless adolescent accusations at her.

As she dressed, an unusual surge of optimism swept through her, banishing all her doubts. Who could tell? Perhaps once Lucy had accepted the fact that Jenna intended them to move to Yorkshire, she would grow to love the old Hall as much as Jenna herself did. Lucy was at a difficult age, Jenna reminded herself fairly, but in another few years she would be an adult. Perhaps then they would be able to talk about Rachel, Jenna thought contemplatively, acknowledging that she would like to talk about her sister with someone, to share her memories of her, and who better than Lucy? As it was, only Bill and Nancy had known Rachel, and could share her memories with her. Maybe that was why she was so afraid to let a man into her life, she reflected. Because if she did so, she would have to tell him about the past, about Rachel and Lucy …

What was she really afraid of? she asked herself, as she tugged a brush through her hair and studied her reflection pensively in the mirror. That a man might reject her because he thought she had had an illegitimate child? Or that if she cared deeply enough about someone to tell them the truth they might not share her view of the enormity of the crime against her sister. It had been a long time since she had examined her own deep feelings so intensely, perhaps too long.

In London, with a growing, demanding business to take up all her time and Lucy to worry about, there never seemed to be an opportunity to sit down and think about herself. Or was it that she didn’t want to dwell too deeply on her own emotions or lack of them? Harley had accused her on more than one occasion of being a-human. Who knew? Perhaps he was right. A self-mocking smile curved her generous mouth. What would they say, all those men who had striven so hard to get her into their beds, if they knew the truth? That far from being a cool, composed, experienced woman, she was in reality no more than a frightened, inexperienced virgin. The thought was ludicrous enough to make her laugh. What did it matter? No one was ever likely to know the truth, apart from herself.

Once again, irritatingly, a mental image of the man who had admired her car with words and her body with his eyes flashed across her mind, the blue eyes taunting, the curl of his mouth suggesting with arrogant maleness that he knew everything there was to know about her sex. Why had she allowed him to antagonise her so intensely? The man was a stranger, someone she had never met before, nor was ever likely to meet again. Shrugging aside the memory of how he had looked at her, Jenna went downstairs.

‘Sorry I’m so late,’ she apologised to Nancy as she walked into the kitchen. ‘I can’t think what happened.’ She wrinkled her nose ruefully. ‘I haven’t slept so deeply for years. Where’s Lucy?’

‘Gone out,’ Nancy informed her drily, adding bluntly, ‘I know you won’t like my saying this, Jenna, but it’s high time you told her the truth. If you don’t ——’ She broke off as they heard a car outside.

‘Funny!’ she exclaimed, her forehead puckering in a frown. ‘I wasn’t expecting Bill back so soon. He’s driven down to the village to get some more bread. There’s nothing wrong with young Lucy’s appetite, whatever else might be ailing her.’

But it wasn’t Bill who came to the kitchen door. It was Lucy, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushed, and with her, to Jenna’s complete consternation and shock, was the man whose features had so annoyingly impressed themselves upon her mind, to the extent that twice during the last half an hour she had recalled them in vivid detail. As she looked at him, she realised that her memory had not played her false. His eyes were as intensely blue as she remembered, his skin as healthily tanned.

‘Lucy, where on earth have you been?’ she asked her niece frostily, dragging her attention away from the male figure lounging in the open doorway and forcing herself to concentrate instead on the teenager’s flushed and rebellious features. What was Lucy doing with this stranger, a stranger whose overt sexuality made her mouth compress in bitter contempt? He flaunted his sexuality like a banner and it disgusted her, riveting her attention until Lucy spoke.

‘Out!’ The pert toss of the dark hair which accompanied the defiant challenge only increased Jenna’s perturbation, but she managed to mask her fear with a coolness she was far from feeling.

How many times had she warned Lucy against the folly of talking to strangers; any strangers. It made no difference that every instinct she possessed told her that this man was definitely not the type who needed to waylay young girls in order to obtain sexual satisfaction.

‘I’m afraid the fault lies with me.’ His words fell into the thick pool of silence, stagnant with antagonism, that had fallen on the kitchen after Lucy’s defiant remark, and it goaded Jenna unbearably to know that beneath the conventional apology he was probably laughing at her.

‘I met your daughter down at the Hall and offered to give her a lift back here. It seems that you and I are going to be in competition at the auction this morning.’

Jenna’s eyes left his face and darted to Lucy’s. What had Lucy been doing down at the old Hall? For now her concentration on her niece was something she could use as a defence mechanism to block out the shock of what she had just been told. He wanted to buy the Hall. Her mouth curled unwittingly into a bitter smile. So much for her initial assumptions about him.

‘And what exactly were you doing down there, Lucy?’ she questioned curtly, trying to blank out the feeling of tension invading her veins. What had happened to the excited euphoria with which she had woken up? It was gone, banished by the presence of this dark, mocking man.

‘I just wanted to see what it looked like.’ Lucy’s reply was sulky.

‘Without telling anyone where you were going?’ Jenna knew she was overdoing her chastisement, and that it would be wiser to keep her criticisms until they were alone, but something about the enigmatic scrutiny of the man watching them was driving her on. It was as though somehow they were locked in some sort of secret battle … If that was the case, establishing her parental authority over Lucy was hardly likely to win it, Jenna reflected, slightly ashamed of the way she had spoken so sharply to the younger girl. She wasn’t so far removed from her teenage years herself that she could not remember how touchy and vulnerable a teenager’s pride was. Her voice softened slightly. ‘I’m sorry, Lucy,’ she apologised, curling her fingers into her palms and refusing to look in the direction of the sardonic stranger. She didn’t want to see him gloating over her apology. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that but …’

‘She shouldn’t have accepted a lift with me.’

Once again the cool drawl raised tiny goosebumps of prickly resentment on Jenna’s sensitive skin. ‘My fault again, I insisted. It seemed foolish to let her walk when I was coming this way …’ He shrugged powerfully broad shoulders, this morning encased in a thick navy jumper that added to his ruggedly masculine appearance.

‘Really?’

The moment she spoke the coolly dismissive word, Jenna knew that she had fallen into a carefully baited trap.

‘Yes.’ He ignored her cool withdrawal and smiled instead at Nancy. ‘If I might come in for a second?’

He was still standing just by the door, and Jenna watched with narrowed eyes and a prickling sense of foreboding as Nancy coloured slightly and said quickly, ‘Oh, my goodness, of course! Please do.’

He was a charmer all right, Jenna thought critically, but even if Nancy was not immune she was. She was looking at him, studying him as he walked into the room, watching the lean, long-legged way he moved, his movements as fluid as those of a great jungle cat — and just as dangerous — when suddenly she was conscious that she was staring and that, worse, he was aware of it. The look he gave her as their eyes clashed made her feel as though he could see right into her mind and read every thought in it. He knew how antagonistic she was to him. A fine shudder of apprehension rippled through her body. An outright reaction to her antipathy she could deal with, but somehow his deliberate refusal to show any response at all was unnerving.

‘Well, thank you for bringing Lucy back for us, Mr ..?’ Jenna paused and he obligingly filled the space for her. ‘Allingham,’ he told her laconically, ‘James Allingham.’

His name meant nothing to her, but the smile that curled his mouth without reaching his eyes chilled her.

‘Lucy tells me you’re hoping to buy the Hall and use it as a headquarters for your business interests,’ he commented, observing her, Jenna noticed, with eyes that were suddenly almost frighteningly watchful.

‘Yes,’ she agreed, not knowing what else to do. Who was this man? Obviously not the farm labourer she had originally supposed. He might be wearing casual clothes — a checked shirt, a thick sweater and a pair of cords — but they were expensive casuals. It irritated her now that she had allowed his blatant sexuality to blind her to the fact that he was a potential rival for possession of the Hall. ‘And you, Mr Allingham,’ she challenged, lifting her head and looking directly into his eyes, letting him know that she wouldn’t be easily intimidated, ‘what is your purpose in wishing to acquire the property?’ It crossed her mind that he could quite possibly refuse to tell her, but he didn’t.

His smile widened, but still did not reach his eyes. ‘Well, as to that,’ he drawled, making her remember that she had previously thought that his heritage wasn’t entirely British, ‘my ancestors originally came from here and I kinda thought it would be rather nice to keep the property in family hands.’

Jenna went white, a small gasp escaping her lips before she could stop herself from betraying her shock. James Allingham was a Deveril! No wonder she had felt so antagonistic towards him, she reflected bitterly. Her senses must have known what her mind had not. Don’t be ridiculous, she chided herself mentally, her antagonism had initially sprung from the fact that he was so overpoweringly and blatantly male, and nothing else. Even so, it was a shock to discover that he was related to the Deverils.

Suddenly she remembered the portrait she had seen in the house and how stunned she had been on first seeing James Allingham’s resemblance to it. Just for a moment all her old hatred of the Deverils surged up inside her, but she had herself under control almost immediately.

‘Really,’ she exclaimed in a marvelling voice. ‘You do surprise me. I had heard that the solicitors made extensive enquiries and had decided that the Deveril family had completely died out.’

‘So, I believe, it has,’ James Allingham agreed, with mocking urbanity. ‘But there is a connection none the less. One of my ancestors was born here in this village. His mother was the wife of the then Sir George Deveril.’ His mouth twisted slightly as he added, ‘Unfortunately, he fell into disgrace and was packed off to the Indies. Once there he married the daughter of a wealthy sugar planter.’

Jenna froze, and as though sensing her disbelief James Allingham said coolly, ‘Oh, it’s all quite true, I can assure you, but the father of the girl whom James Deveril married insisted as part of the marriage contract that James change his surname to Allingham.’ He shrugged. ‘The story goes in our family that James wasn’t all that reluctant to part with a surname he despised.’

‘A most romantic story, Mr Allingham,’ Jenna said crisply, suddenly understanding why James Allingham would want to possess the house. No doubt like her he harboured a feeling of resentment against the Deveril family, but she must not start feeling sympathy for him, she told herself sharply. That was what he wanted … what he was angling for.

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ he agreed, giving her a bland smile, the glint in his eyes telling her that he was amused rather than annoyed by the coldness in her voice.

Bright patches of colour stained her high cheekbones as she happened to glance at Lucy and saw that the younger girl was enjoying seeing her bested by James Allingham. Hard on the heels of her initial anger came pain. What had happened to her and Lucy? They had once been so close. But she knew what had happened. Lucy resented her refusal to discuss her father with her.

It was infuriating that James Allingham should so easily have got the better of her and in front of Lucy too, but what was more infuriating was that he was making it clear to her that he felt he had a greater right to the Hall than she did. Her chin went up, her eyes unknowingly flashing warning signs at him. ‘Well, it’s a most interesting story, Mr Allingham,’ she conceded graciously, ‘and I can quite understand why you should want to buy the old Hall.’

‘The auction is due to begin in half an hour,’ he commented briefly, glancing at what Jenna could easily recognise as an extremely expensive gold watch. What she could see of his wrist beneath the cuff of his woollen shirt was well muscled, covered in fine dark hairs and extremely masculine. For some reason the sight of it disturbed her, setting off tiny flurries of sensation in her stomach.

‘Why don’t I give you a lift down there?’

His arrogant assumption that she would want to travel with him infuriated Jenna, her fury fuelled by the unfamiliar sensations she had just experienced. Part of her realised, or at least suspected that he was deliberately trying to get her off balance, and yet even knowing this, another part of her still reacted to what she suspected was a deliberate encouragement of her anger. No doubt her red hair had already betrayed to him her quick temper, and perhaps he hoped to push her into some sort of hasty hot-headed reaction which would unnerve her before the auction. She had come across this sort of tactical manoeuvre before and thoroughly despised it. Her upper lip curled slightly. He was everything she most detested in the male sex, she thought furiously. Arrogant, an overweening belief in himself, a masculine air of superiority that she longed to challenge, but most of all, an amused and slightly taunting manner towards herself, as though she, like Lucy, was little more than a child. He could not be more than thirty-six or so: the seven-year age-gap between them was scarcely large enough to warrant his almost paternal mockery of her. It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse him when Nancy suddenly interrupted, ‘Oh, what an excellent idea. You know you said your car wasn’t behaving very well,’ she reminded Jenna.

‘Then it’s all settled.’ The smile James Allingham gave Nancy was pure sexual coercion, Jenna told herself distastefully, refusing to admit to the strange feeling she experienced when she saw the warmth in his eyes as they rested mischievously on the older woman’s plump face.

She had already noticed that Lucy seemed ready to hang on his every word and she was not very pleased when the girl burst out impulsively, ‘Oh, Mother, surely you aren’t going to go ahead and bid for the house now? Not when you can see how much James wants it. After all, it did once belong to his family.’

Jenna had to grit her teeth together to stop herself snapping at Lucy’s mock-virtuous tone. No doubt it would suit Lucy very well indeed if she were to back out of the auction, but she had no intention of doing so. And as for the house once belonging to James’s family … Anger and pain — both were there inside her. Oh, Lucy, if only you knew, she thought wryly. But Lucy did not and how could she tell her? Her smile for James Allingham was tight and slightly bitter. ‘Yes, I can quite see that Mr Allingham has a valid claim to the house, Lucy,’ she agreed, ‘but as I’m sure he is aware one can’t allow oneself to be clouded by emotion when it comes to business matters.’

As she swept towards the door, Jenna thought she heard Lucy mutter rebelliously, ‘Or when it comes to any matters …’ but even as she stiffened and was about to turn, she heard the inner door slam as Lucy walked into the hall.

‘A very attractive young lady, your daughter,’ James Allingham remarked a few seconds later as he settled her into his car — a Mercedes saloon, she noticed absently as she fastened her seat-belt.

‘I think so.’ Her cool voice was meant to warn him not to trespass any further, but James Allingham refused to take the hint.

‘There’s just the two of you, or so she tells me,’ he persisted. That he should ignore her warning and continue with his line of questioning angered Jenna even further.

‘That’s right,’ she agreed, knowing as she did so that her voice sounded brittle, defensive almost, and that angered her even more.