To Tame the Playboy: The Playboy of Pengarroth Hall / A Night with the Society Playboy / Playboy Boss, Pregnancy of Passion

Happily, Fleur did as she was told, sitting on the edge of Mia’s bed as Mia began rubbing her hair briskly.

‘I hope you don’t mind sharing my room,’ Mia said breathlessly, ‘and I’m asking the others to share as well.’ She peered out from among the folds of the towel. ‘It’s not that there aren’t enough rooms to go around in this place, of course, but I didn’t like to give Pat all the extra work. And I know the boys won’t mind sharing—you’ll like them, Fleur. Gus and Tim are old friends in any case, and Rupert and Mat are really nice.’ She draped the towel over the back of a chair and reached for her hairdryer.

‘Of course I don’t mind sharing,’ Fleur said at once. ‘It’ll be like old times.’ She paused. ‘Your hair’s grown so long, Mia. I’ve never seen it like that.’

Mia was strikingly tall, and her dark brown hair, reaching well below her shoulders, made her seem even taller. Her hazel eyes twinkled.

‘Well, that’s Mat’s fault. He likes it this way,’ she said, switching on the dryer.

Fleur raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh? So Mat is—important—is he? The man of the moment?’

Mia smiled briefly. ‘Sort of,’ she said vaguely. ‘We’ve been going out for a bit—nothing too heavy. In fact, I thought it wise to mix him up with others for Christmas—before we both get carried away.’ She paused. ‘What about you—anyone special on the scene?’ She raised her voice slightly above the noise of the dryer.

‘No, there isn’t,’ Fleur replied flatly. And probably never will be, she could have added, but didn’t. Mia shot her an understanding glance, but said nothing. She knew that Fleur’s father had always discouraged his daughter from having relationships. ‘Don’t waste your intelligence and education on marriage and children,’ was his frequent advice to his daughter. ‘There’s plenty of time for that.’

‘Well, let me remind you that next year we’re both going to be twenty-seven,’ Mia said, somewhat ruefully. ‘Not that our biological clocks are running out exactly, but time does seem to be on wheels, doesn’t it?’ She switched off the dryer for a second and sighed. ‘I love the idea of marriage and a family, but finding the right partner seems an impossible task. As soon as I get to know someone, really get to know how he ticks, I lose interest.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘It’s obviously all my fault.’ She waited a second before going on. ‘Has there been anyone special since you and Leo split up?’

Fleur shrugged, looking away. ‘No, not really. A few of us from work get together fairly regularly for drinks or a night out somewhere, but I always go home alone, like the good girl that I am.’ Her lip curled slightly as she made that remark. Looking back on her time with Leo, when they’d meant so much to each other, she couldn’t believe, now, that she’d allowed her father to come between them. But in the three years that had elapsed since that time, she’d come to realize that it had all been for the best, after all. Because she’d become utterly convinced that marriage was not for her. She would never risk being in the position which her mother had occupied all her life—to be subservient, having to fall in with every wish of her husband’s. Although Fleur acknowledged that he was basically a good man, he had totally domineered his wife—and his daughter—because there was only one opinion that mattered: his own. And he could never accept that he might sometimes be wrong, or that others might be right. With her reasoning, analytical, intellect, Fleur know that it was fundamentally wrong for one human being—whoever he was—to always have his own way, and that she would never put up with that state of affairs.

She got up and went over to the window, gazing out across the garden and the woods beyond.

Mia, sensing her sudden sadness, said cheerfully, ‘Well, unfortunately for the rest of us, when we were all young and innocent, you were the one that the guys all fancied, and we were very jealous, I can tell you. I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay single for so long, Fleur Richardson, I really don’t.’

It was true that Fleur had always been attractive to men, her dainty figure and heart-shaped face dominated by thickly lashed large green eyes crying out for attention and admiration. Plus those two other seductive characteristics—a high intelligence coupled with a teasingly vulnerable nature making men automatically feel protective towards her.

‘Oh, there’s nothing to it—staying single, I mean,’ Fleur replied. ‘Just keep your head down and go on working. There’s always—always—stuff waiting to be done in the lab. Stuff that can’t wait.’ Besides,’ she added, ‘in my experience, men always seem to need to be in control all the time…and I want to be in control of my own life, thanks very much.’

‘Some of them do,’ Mia agreed, ‘but there are ways of dealing with that. A little feminine cunning and you can often bring them around to your way of thinking.’

‘Hmm,’ Fleur said. ‘If you say so. But I can do without the hassle. If I’ve only got myself to please, there’s no emotional conflict. And I like a quiet life, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, there’s going to be someone out there, somewhere, who’ll change your mind one of these days,’ Mia said, ‘you mark my words.’ Her shrewd eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced over at Fleur, and she thought how fragile the girl looked—fragile and pale. She also seemed to have lost weight, which she could not afford to do.

Fleur turned, shrugging. ‘We’ll see,’ she said lightly. There was a pause. ‘As a matter of fact, I’ve not been very well lately, Mia. I’ve completely lost my appetite and I’m tired all the time. The doctor mentioned “stress”—how I hate that word—but I have agreed to take a longer than normal Christmas break, so I’m not due back to work until mid-January.’

‘Well, why not stay on longer here, then?’ Mia said at once. ‘All the others are going back the day after Boxing Day, but I’m not returning to London until the second of January…We’ll have some lovely extra time together. It’ll do you good to be here in the peace and quiet, and Pat will love looking after you, spoiling you. And if her cooking can’t bring your appetite back to life, no one’s can. You’ve not made other plans, have you? Haven’t got to go back to the parents for some TLC?’

‘No, I haven’t promised anything,’ Fleur said quickly. ‘I…haven’t said anything to them about not feeling well lately…I don’t want any fuss…’

‘Well then, stay here and relax. Read. Walk. Watch telly. Stay in bed till mid-morning if you like. No one to please but yourself—that is what you want, isn’t it?’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ Fleur said slowly, ‘but I couldn’t outstay my welcome like that, Mia—I’d feel awful having someone to wait on me, prepare my meals…’

‘I’m telling you—Pat will be ecstatic,’ Mia assured her. ‘It’s a funny old life for her, really, looking after a big house that’s got no one in it, sometimes for weeks on end.’ She finished drying her hair and opened her wardrobe, peering inside. ‘What to wear, what to wear,’ she muttered to herself, before selecting jeans and a chunky woolen jumper. ‘We must bring in all your stuff from the car,’ she said over her shoulder, ‘and then I’ll leave you alone for an hour to settle in.’ She smiled. ‘It’s going to be just the two of us until tomorrow evening, so we can have a good old gossipy natter.’ She pulled her still damp hair free from the high neck of her jumper, and picked up her hairbrush. ‘I only got home myself a couple of hours ago,’ she added. ‘Hasn’t Pat made the tree look fantastic? That woman really is a treasure.’

‘She doesn’t live in all the time, then?’ Fleur asked.

‘Oh, no, only when one of us, or some friends, are here. She lives in one of the estate cottages with her mother, but the two of them make sure everything’s OK while the house is unoccupied. My brother is regularly away, working for a law firm who engage him on a part-time basis—of course, he’s the one in charge of the estate now that our parents aren’t here any more.’ Mia stopped brushing her hair for a second, biting her lip.

Fleur said quickly, ‘It must be difficult for him, juggling work and the estate. I don’t expect he thought he’d have to take over here quite so soon.’

‘He certainly didn’t. Neither of us did,’ Mia said. ‘For both our parents to die so unexpectedly, four years ago, before either of them had reached sixty, was a dreadful shock.’

‘I know,’ Fleur said sympathetically. She had never met Mia’s parents, or her brother, but knew all about them from her friend.

‘And it dropped Pengarroth Hall prematurely right into Seb’s lap,’ Mia said. ‘He was only thirty, and enjoying his life in London—rather too much, in some people’s opinion! But my playboy brother had to grow up some time—to the disappointment of the party crowd and his many lady friends. I don’t think he was best pleased. Still—’ she brightened up quickly, as Mia always did, whatever the circumstances ‘—he’s got used to it. And it pleases Gran. She and Gramps loved Pengarroth Hall—where they lived too, of course, for most of their lives.’

‘Goodness—is your grandmother still alive?’ Fleur asked.

‘You bet!’ Mia said. ‘And we both visit her often. As a matter of fact, I believe she was a bit of a girl-about-town in her youth, when she met my grandfather. And she still loves being in the big city, where she lives in the most amazing flat. She’s in her mid-eighties now, but she’s got a large circle of friends…They go to the theatre, out to meals, play bridge regularly. There’s no stopping her. But she loves to think that Pengarroth Hall is still in the family. Worships Sebastian, of course. He’s the golden boy.’

‘She’s not coming here for Christmas?’ Fleur asked.

‘We couldn’t persuade her,’ Mia replied. ‘Especially when she knew there’d be a crowd of us in residence. Said she’d rather spend it with her own friends, and leave us to ours. She always spends a couple of months here in the summer, though.’

‘She sounds a lot of fun,’ Fleur said wistfully, thinking what a solitary sort of life she had led, with no siblings and never having known her grandparents, or any other family members.

‘She’s fantastic,’ Mia said breezily. ‘We love her to bits.’

Going downstairs to collect Fleur’s belongings from the car, Mia stopped to pat the sleeping dog’s head as they went by.

‘Poor old Benson,’ she said softly. ‘He’s so old now, snoozes most of the time, but Sebastian won’t have another dog on the premises, not until Benson has popped his clogs. Says this is Benson’s territory.’ She rubbed the dog’s nose with her forefinger. ‘Anyway, Frank, our groundsman, has enough to do without having a young animal to train.’

Fleur made a face. ‘I think I met Frank earlier,’ she said, ‘and was roundly told off for trespassing. I came in at the wrong gate—the upper one—by mistake.’

‘Oh, you mad woman!’ Mia said. ‘But I’m a bit scatty with directions so that was probably my fault. Why—what did he say?’

‘More or less told me to clear off and to be more observant in future and follow appropriate signs.’

Mia giggled. ‘He can be a bossy boots and rather short-tempered,’ she said, ‘but he’s worth his weight in gold. Seb relies on him totally when he’s not here. And of course when visitors come to shoot game in the autumn, Frank runs everything.’

Later, when she was alone, Fleur unpacked and, taking the hint from her friend, changed into jeans and a green jumper that did marvelous things for her eyes and brushed her hair back into a ponytail. Then she wiped off all her make-up before moisturizing her skin. It felt so good not to have to bother about looking immaculate and put aside her heels for the evening. She suddenly felt upbeat, looking forward to a cosy evening with one of her best friends. Then, slipping her bare feet into her Uggs, she left the room and went downstairs, almost colliding with Pat at the bottom.

‘Oh, there you are,’ the woman said. ‘Mia’s just dashed down the road to deliver some Christmas presents. Go into the sitting room—the one there on the left. I’ll bring you some tea in a few minutes.’

Fleur wandered along the hallway to the room which had been indicated, going straight over to the huge fireplace, where some logs were burning brightly in the grate. This holiday had all the elements of a real Dickensian Christmas, she thought, feeling thrilled all over again that she was a guest here. The large room was comfortably—though not opulently—furnished, with sofas and armchairs, none of which were new. The carpet, though worn, felt soft under her feet and she kicked off her Uggs as she sat down on the armchair nearest to the fire. Leaning her head back contentedly, she closed her eyes. She could get used to this, she thought dreamily, this serenity, this feeling of well-being. Perhaps—perhaps she could allow herself to be persuaded to take Mia up on the offer to stay on for a while longer…just so long as she was certain she wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. Perhaps for an extra week, she thought, wiggling her bare toes in front of the flames, a delightful drowsiness beginning to seep over her.

After a few moments, something made her open her eyes and with a start she found herself staring up into the familiar face she’d seen before today. The groundsman stood there, wearing well-cut jeans and dark polo shirt, one hand thrust casually into his pocket. He was obviously very much at home here, Fleur thought instinctively. She smiled faintly.

‘Oh…hello,’ she said non-committally, nestling back down into the chair. ‘We meet again.’ She hoped he would feel a slight pang of conscience when he remembered his curt behaviour earlier, especially when it was obvious that she was a guest.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in her appearance, noting the willowy figure and unblemished skin devoid of artifice, but, before he could say a word, Mia breezed into the room—stopping short as she saw him standing there.

‘Seb! What on earth are you doing here?’

‘I do live here from time to time, remember,’ he said, going towards her and giving her a bear hug. ‘Hi, Mia.’

‘Yes—but you said you wouldn’t be home until Christmas morning,’ Mia protested. ‘What made you change your mind?’