Conflict Of Hearts

She stared uncomprehendingly for a moment. ‘How did you know?’

‘You lied about the luggage. Since you were planning to leave, this was the obvious place to look. I’ve already moved it to my car.’ He stood back, his face expressionless. ‘Shall we go?’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ she protested. ‘I’m going to stay with a friend in Islington for a few days until I sort myself out. And I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.’

‘Nonsense,’ he snapped. ‘You’re in no condition to drive anywhere.’

‘I’m just fine.’

‘Really?’ He grasped her wrist and held her hand in front of her eyes. ‘You’re shaking, Elizabeth. And how many glasses of champagne did you drink?’

‘I wasn’t counting,’ she snapped back.

‘There was no need to. I don’t imagine you were planning to drive yourself down the M40 into London on this Saturday evening. You were going to let Peter Hallam do that.’

Damn the man! Why did he have to be right about everything? She took a deep breath. ‘You can give me a lift,’ she compromised.

‘How generous of you.’ And, with an ironic little twist to his mouth, he straightened and opened the door wide for her. She slipped out of her seat and fled across the yard to his car, not waiting for him to open the door.

‘Ready?’ he asked as he climbed in beside her. She took a last long look at the garden and the people standing about in small knots—friends, relations, people she had known all her life. Then she saw Peter. As if he could feel her eyes upon him, he turned and stared at her. Then Fran followed his glance and she also stared at Lizzie, her brow drawn down in a small frown. Noah had seen it too.

‘Fasten your seatbelt, Elizabeth,’ he said abruptly. She did so, then sank back against the old leather and closed her eyes. ‘And take off your hat, or you’ll lose it. There’s a scarf in the glove box.’

Would she never have a moment of peace to shed a tear for what she had thrown away? Apparently not. When she made no immediate move to obey he leaned across and removed her hat for her, flipping it onto the rear seat to keep his top hat company. Then he opened the glove compartment and thrust a long silk chiffon scarf at her.

‘Here.’ She continued to stare fiercely at her gloves, unwilling to betray her weakness, but he caught her chin and turned her face towards him. She blinked furiously, but too late.

For a moment he stared as the tears welled onto her cheeks, then with an impatient gesture he wiped them from her face with the pads of his thumbs. And he wrapped the scarf around her hair in a movement so practised that she was certain he had done it a hundred times before, holding her against his chest as he tied it at the nape of her neck. ‘Just how old are you, Elizabeth?’ he asked.

‘Twenty-one.’ Her voice was muffled against the lapel of his morning coat, her ear only hearing the steady thump of his heart.

‘As old as that?’ The doubt in his voice touched off a dangerous spark of anger, driving her away from the deceptive comfort of his broad shoulder. She fought down an intense desire to slap the man, but only because she knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would slap her back. ‘Far too old to be mooning over a calf-love. Did you actually believe him when he said he would marry you?’ She stared at him. ‘Surely your mother told you that a young man in the grip of his libido will promise anything to get his way?’

Dark colour seared her cheek-bones. ‘Doubtless you speak from experience.’

‘No, Elizabeth. I’m old enough to take care not to make promises I have no intention of keeping.’

‘I can imagine. Although your status as a confirmed bachelor is so public I can’t imagine that expectations on that score can be very high.’

‘I have never failed to make my position clear.’

‘That’s all right, then.’

‘It saves complications.’

‘What about love? Doesn’t that complicate things?’ she demanded.

‘Love?’ He turned away, switched on the ignition, pressed the starter and the car purred into life. ‘I learned a long time ago to distrust the word. Much safer to treat the whole idea as a spectator sport—on a par with bungee-jumping or free-fall parachuting.’

‘Didn’t I read somewhere that you once were a member of the Dangerous Sports Club?’

‘Did you?’ He shrugged. ‘I didn’t say I never participated, Elizabeth, only that I knew the risks involved.’ His lips tightened in a horrible parody of his smile as she drew in a sharp breath. ‘Have I shocked you? Well, you’re very young. Still naive enough to believe in such rubbish. You’ll learn.’

‘Just how old do you have to be before you get that cynical?’ she asked.

‘Not very old,’ he said, with feeling, and she thought for the most fleeting moment that she had managed to dent his insufferable arrogance. But then the blade-edged smile was firmly back in place. ‘I’m not quite in my dotage, but by your own demanding standards, Elizabeth, I’m far too old for you,’ he replied very firmly. ‘I can assure you that whatever you may hear to the contrary you will be perfectly safe under my roof. I wouldn’t touch you with a bargepole.’

‘You...’ She barely managed to stop herself from telling him in the most graphic terms what he could do with his bargepole. ‘You kissed me,’ she pointed out, and achieved a certain sharp satisfaction in contradicting him.

‘And I shall do so again if the situation requires it,’ he replied, unmoved. ‘But we’ll both know that it doesn’t mean a thing.’

The slow burn of anger helped, she found. While she kept her mind simmering on the obnoxious Noah Jordan she could almost forget about Peter.

‘You kiss very... thoroughly...’ she said, deliberately provoking him. ‘I’m sure I shall learn a lot.’

‘And you kiss like a virgin.’

She pressed her tongue hard against her teeth to stop herself from screaming at him that there was a very good reason for that.

‘Kissed once when I wasn’t looking,’ she misquoted a little shakily, ‘and never kissed again, even though I was looking all the time?’

‘No doubt you’ll improve with practice.’ For a moment she thought that she detected that errant touch of humour in his voice. But his face, when she turned, was stony.

‘Don’t bother to apply for the position of coach. It isn’t vacant.’

‘On the contrary.’ Her blush deepened painfully under his searching glance, but she refused to be intimidated. ‘However, tonight I think we must do our best to convince the new Mrs Hallam that it has already been filled.’ He slowed as they reached the main road, and for a moment concentrated on the traffic. Once they were moving along smoothly again he continued. ‘After that you can do whatever you like.’

‘What would you suggest?’ she prompted. Anything rather than dwell on the thought of Mrs Hallam, she thought.

His eyes lingered on her for a moment, then he turned away. ‘I hardly think I’m the best person to advise you,’ he said abruptly.

‘You’ve been pretty free with your advice until now,’ she declared.

He shrugged. ‘I suggest you do whatever is necessary to take your mind off Peter Hallam. Isn’t there something you’ve always wanted to do, but never had the chance?’

Another reminder that it was time to be moving on? ‘So long as it isn’t bungee-jumping or free-fall parachuting?’ she offered sourly.

‘You’re young enough to survive a few painful landings.’ Heartache wasn’t fatal, then? She thought it was a little early to say. She was still numb with shock. But fighting with Noah Jordan was certainly a very effective diversion. He threw her a fleeting glance. ‘Have you ever lived away from home? Actually worked for a living?’

He made her sound like a parasite. ‘No. But it looks as if I’m about to get my first taste of both. I don’t have much choice, do I? I’ve been given my marching orders.’

‘Marching orders?’ His surprise was very convincing, but she wasn’t fooled.

‘Frankly, Noah, I don’t understand why you’re taking so much interest.’

His mouth thinned. ‘Like you, Elizabeth, I had my arm twisted.’

‘Well, you can consider it untwisted. Just take me to Islington.’ He didn’t bother to reply, and for a while they travelled in silence. Then Lizzie glanced at the man beside her. ‘Was I really so transparent? Back there?’ she was finally driven to ask.