A Wedding Worth Waiting For

Like a shot! Her heart went all fluttery. She wasn’t going to have to wait to see him! She wasn’t going to have to wait and hope he would phone! This was happening now! ‘My mother will hate me!’ Her prevarication was no prevarication at all. No way was she going to deny herself this opportunity of a few hours of his company. ‘I’ll let you be the one to tell her she’s peeled too many potatoes while I go and get cleaned up.’

Taking Farne indoors, she left him talking with her mother while she went sedately up the stairs—and then positively flew around getting ready.

Fifteen minutes later, wearing a dress of a delicate nasturtium colour, Karrie—just as sedately—returned down the stairs and went into the drawing room. Farne got to his feet. ‘Hope I didn’t keep you too long,’ she smiled, having completed the quickest scrub-up and change on record. He made no answer—but his glance was appreciative.

‘I’ll see you when I see you,’ Margery Dalton said, knowing full well that her daughter had an appointment elsewhere for tea.

Karrie had been to The Feathers Hotel quite a few times before. But this time, lunching with Farne, everything seemed so much better, brighter—magical.

Again she enjoyed his company. He was amusing, charming, attentive—and gave every appearance of seeming to enjoy being with her as much as she enjoyed being with him. Oh, she did so hope it was true, that it wasn’t all part and parcel of his natural charm—and that he wasn’t like this with everybody. In short—she wanted to be special to him.

After lunch she excused herself and went to the ladies’ room to freshen up and to give herself something of a talking to. For goodness’ sake—special to him! They hadn’t known each other a week! She had been out with him twice. Twice—that was all—and she wanted him to regard her as someone special in his life!

Grief—he was a man about town. He could have his pick of just about anybody. What was so special about her? Karrie just then had a blindingly clear—and unwanted—mental picture of standing in front of Farne, her hair pulled back in two rubber bands, dirt everywhere—and also a picture of the polished and elegant women she was sure he more normally went out with. Special—get real!

Pinning a smile on her face, she left the ladies’ room to join him. They went out to the hotel’s car park and, striving hard not to think that the drive to her home would take only about twenty minutes—less than that if Farne happened to put his foot down on the accelerator—Karrie got into the passenger seat.

More joy was hers, however, when Farne forgot to turn left at a road junction. ‘You’ve missed the turn,’ she felt honour-bound to point out.

‘I thought we might go and take a look at the river,’ he replied. Her heart rejoiced. ‘That is, unless you’re desperate to get back?’

She was desperate to stay exactly where she was, with him. ‘It’s very pleasant down by the river,’ she answered, desperate not to be pushy, but having a hard time not grabbing at every opportunity to be in his company.

In no time they were in open countryside. When Farne pulled over by a footbridge and asked, ‘Fancy a stroll around?’ she thought it a splendid idea.

They walked over the bridge, and, keeping by the water’s edge, across a couple of fields. And it was in one particularly grassy area that Farne commented, ‘If we’d had a car rug we could sit down.’

‘You city boys are too sissy for words,’ Karrie, scorned, and was seated on the grass before it dawned on her that was exactly what Farne had intended she should do. ‘You’re too smart for me!’ she accused, but he only grinned and joined her. For the next hour they seemed to amicably fall into a discussion on any subject that happened to crop up. Music, books, ski-ing. She didn’t know how ski-ing had got in there, but it had; everything was just so relaxed and easy between them, somehow.

They both seemed to have gone from sitting to resting, lying on their elbows as they watched a couple of swans majestically glide by, when suddenly Karrie became aware that Farne was not watching the birds. He had turned and was looking at her.

‘You’re very lovely,’ he murmured quietly—and all at once her heart was rushing like an express train. There was something in his look, something in the very air that seemed to tell her that Farne wanted to kiss her. Well, that was all right by her, she wanted to kiss him too.

His head came nearer. He looked deep into her eyes, giving her every opportunity to back away. She smiled a gentle smile—and he needed no further encouragement.

Gently he took her into his arms, moving her unresisting form until they were lying together on the grass. Unhurriedly, his lips met hers in a lingering tender kiss, and it was the most wonderful experience she had ever known. Never had she known such tenderness, and, as her heart started to pound, Karrie knew that Farne Maitland was the love of her life. She was no longer falling in love with him. She did love him, was in love with him, and nothing was ever going to change that.

When their kiss ended Karrie was left struggling to make sense of what had happened to her. She moved a little way away from him, not how she wanted to move at all, but some instinct was taking over from the sudden confusion she found herself in. All she was clear about was that this would be the last she would see of Farne if he gained so much as a glimpse of her feelings for him.

She sat up, hugging her arms around her knees, as she tried with all she had to recover from his wonderful kiss—and the certain knowledge of what was in her heart.

‘What’s wrong, Karrie?’ Oh, heavens—gauche, did she say? He was so quick, able to spot a mile off that something was bothering her. Yet she couldn’t find an answer to give him. ‘I’ve offended you?’ he asked, his tone quiet, concerned.

She shook her head. I...” she said, but couldn’t bear that he should think she found his kiss offensive. ‘To be honest,’ she began, ‘that ranks as one of the nicest kisses I’ve known.’

She was aware that Farne was sitting up too. Then she felt his hand come to her face, and gently he turned her so he could see into her eyes. The concern in his voice was reflected in his eyes, though there was a twinkle there too as he asked politely, ‘Perhaps you’d care for another?’

Laughter bubbled up inside her. ‘Thank you very much all the same,’ she answered prettily, ‘but I shall be having my tea soon.’ She saw his mouth start to tweak up at the corners, and stared for a moment or two in total fascination. Then suddenly that word ‘tea’ started to get through to her, and, ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed.

‘Oh?’ Farne queried.

‘I’ve got to go home,’ Karrie said quickly. ‘Travis is expecting...’

‘Who the hell’s Travis?’

Karrie blinked. What had happened to his concern, that twinkling in Farne’s eyes? All there was now was out-and-out aggression! But she loved him too much to be able to contemplate quarrelling with him.

‘Our first row!’ she mocked, feeling wretched and anxious, but determined to laugh him out of whatever was bugging him.

He did look a shade amused, she was glad to see, but, albeit with his aggressiveness under control, he still wanted to know, ‘So who’s Travis?’

Karrie stared at him. Farne knew she was an only child, and had no brother, so he must realise that Travis was either a cousin or man-friend. Surely he wasn’t angry that she had a male friend! Her mouth went dry at the thought that Farne might be just the tiniest bit—jealous. Oh, for goodness’ sake—as if! Still, all the same she wanted only ever to be as open and honest with Farne as he was with her.

‘My date—last night. The one I broke to go out with you was with Travis.’

‘You’re seeing him this evening?’

Dearly did she want to explain that Travis was just a friend and nothing more than that. But this newly awakened love she felt for Farne made her sensitive to everything. To explain anything of the sort might make Farne think she saw her friendship with him as more important than just two dates should signify.

‘I—promised,’ she said.

‘Did you tell him why you were breaking your date?’ he questioned, his expression unsmiling.

Karrie wanted him happy again. She remembered Travis saying something when she’d phoned him yesterday about being passed over for something better, and smilingly asked Farne, ‘You think I should have told him I’d had a better offer?’

Farne’s glance went to her upward-curving mouth. ‘You’ve charm enough for a man to forgive you anything,’ he commented. And Karrie thought he was going to kiss her again.

She wanted him to kiss her again. But this newly found love was making a nonsense of her. Abruptly, she stood up. Farne followed suit, making no attempt to touch her, or to dissuade her from keeping her promise to Travis. She wished she hadn’t got to her feet, because she knew now that this wonderful interlude with Farne was over. And it was.

Back at her home, he got out of the car and stood on the drive with her for a minute or so. Karrie wanted to invite him in, to prolong this wonderful time in his company. But she’d noted that his car keys were still in the ignition. Quite obviously he wanted to be away.

‘Thank you for rescuing me from the weeding,’ she smiled, and without thinking went to shake hands with him. She saw his right eyebrow go aloft, and quickly put her hand behind her back—and could have groaned aloud. How was that for sophisticated?

But at least her action caused Farne’s expression to soften. ‘Charm, did I say?’ he smiled, and, leaving her to guess whether he meant she had or had not charm, he placed his hands on her upper arms and bent down and kissed her lightly on her left cheek. ‘Thanks for dropping everything to come out with me’ he said, and went to his car. Without another glance or a wave, he drove off down the drive.

Karrie felt bereft. She was unsure whether Farne truly thought she had charm. But what she was sure about was that she’d been totally crass to think for so much as a moment that Farne felt even the smallest iota of jealousy about Travis.

For such an idea to have any substance it would have to mean that Farne Maitland cared sufficiently to be jealous in the first place. And he’d just shown how much he cared, hadn’t he? He’d gone away without so much as a backward glance.

‘Thanks for dropping everything to come out with me’ he’d said. Karrie supposed that there were few women of his acquaintance who would not do likewise. Did he know that? She tried to get cross. Tried to make believe that in the unlikely event that he was passing next Sunday, and stopped by to ask if she’d like to join him, she would tell him that she couldn’t possibly. Fate gave a cruel chuckie—on two counts.

Firstly, having fallen in love with Farne—and Karrie freely owned that this ranked as the most idiotic thing she had done to date—she could not see her denying herself any chance of spending some time with him, if chances there were.

Secondly, there would be no chance. She had been out with him twice—today only because he was passing. Somehow, bearing in mind the way he had departed just now, she had a very strong feeling that there would not be a third time.

CHAPTER THREE

KARRIE dressed with care to go to work on Monday. Much good did it do her. She had not truly expected Farne to walk past her desk on one of his rare visits—so why should she feel such a dreadful ache of disappointment when five o’clock came and she had not so much as seen a glimpse of him?