Second Best Husband Part 2

Infact, she told herself firmly, she would be better advised to put thewhole incident right out of her mind. After all, her emotions had beenthrough so many traumas recently that it was hardly surprising if sheexperienced the odd un expected reaction.

As she saw the shadowy bulk of the manor house taking shape in thedarkness ahead of them, she tried not to listen to the small, sharpvoice that told her that her reaction to Stuart had been physical andnot emotional.

After all, she knew herself well enough to feel completely secure andconfident that she was not the type of woman who would ever need to seekrea.s.surance and comfort, or even a confirmation of her desirability andfemininity, in any compulsion to experience an intimacy with a man whichwas purely physical. After all, she reminded herself bitterly, hadn'tAnna and Ian already made it devastatingly plain to her that she was notthe kind of woman whom men desired or found physically attractive? Shewould be a fool even to think of putting that denunciation to the test.of trying to prove them wrong by. The direction of her thoughts broughther to an abrupt and shocked halt. A physical relations.h.i.+p with a manwho wasn't Ian? A man she did not love? Was she out of her mind? Had the shock of recent events virtually unbalanced her mentally as well asemotionally?

Stop it, she warned herself angrily. You've got enough problems to dealwith without looking for more.

It had been several years since Sara had last visited the manor house--aduty visit with her mother one Christmas to the old man who used to livethere--but as a child she had always found the place fascinating, andnow, as Stuart brought the Land Rover to a halt at the rear of thebuilding in what had originally been the stable yard, she turned to himand asked him impulsively," What made you decide to buy this place?"

He gave her a brief smile. He had a nice smile, she noticed, and anunexpected dimple on the left- hand side of his mouth. She had to subduean odd urge to reach out and touch it. It gave him a vulnerabilitytotally opposed to her initial impression of him as a man as tough asgranite.

He might not have lan's golden good looks, but he was a very attractiveman none the less, she recognised, on a small spurt of surprise, a man awoman would feel she could depend on, trust. a man who would make a goodfather.

She was startled by the waywardness of her own thoughts. Where on earthwere they coming from? A good father. What a ridiculous thought to haveabout a man she barely knew.

" It was the woodland," she heard him saying to her, and frowned untilshe realised he was answering her own question.

" Not because of the quality of the trees in it. In all honesty they'repretty poor. Most of the oaks have had to come down, although I've beenhoping to be able to use the wood once it's matured. No, it was becausethe soil here... the land, is perfect, or as near perfect as I'm likelyto get for my purposes. The acreage that goes with the house issufficient for my needs, and the land is sheltered by the Welsh hills.

It's well watered but not marshy. I must admit I was worried at firstabout the risk of transplanting our stock up here, but so far our losseshave been minimal and the new trees we've planted are doing very well.

It's always risky transplanting mature trees; that's why, before we sellone, I like to check on where it's going and to make sure the buyer isaware of the maintenance programme that's necessary until it's securelyrooted. Of course, with all the recent storm damage, we've done verywell on the sales side, but that also puts pressure on us to producemore stock, which takes time." Sara was both fascinated and confused.

" I didn't think it was possible to transplant mature trees."

" It isn't unless they've been specially grown for that purpose. Myuncle started the business, seeing a gap in the market, and in the mainsupplying councils. When he died I inherited it from him. I was alreadyworking for the Forestry Commission. In fact I was on secondment inCanada at the time.

At first I intended to sell the business, but then we had the storms of'87 which put pressure on all suppliers of mature trees--and therearen't many of us--and somehow or other I found I was hooked and thatthe business had grown on me, so to speak, but we needed to expand andso I started looking for somewhere to relocate."

" It sounds fascinating," Sara commented, and genuinely meant it, butshe could see from the sudden tightening of his mouth that he thoughtshe was being sarcastic.

Impulsively she touched him, and said quickly," No, I meant it. It doessound fascinating. I had no idea that it was possible to transplantlarge trees."

There was a small pause and then he replied," If you really areinterested, while you're up here, I could show you round... show youwhat we're doing."

" I'd like that."

She was surprised to discover that she genuinely meant it, and not justbecause it would be a means of keeping Ian out of her thoughts if onlyfor a short s.p.a.ce of time.

" Are you feeling OK now?" he was asking her.

" Or--' " No. No, I'm fine," she a.s.sured him quickly. It was one thingto tell herself that that momentary and discomfiting s.e.xual response tohim meant nothing and was hardly likely to happen again. It was quiteanother to put that belief to the test, especially so soon after thatfirst uncomfortably enlightening occurrence.

" So far I haven't been able to do much to the house," he warned her asthey crossed the yard, and security lights came on, illuminating thecobbles and the empty stables as well as the jumble of windows and doorsthat studded the weathered stone of the building.

" As I said, Mrs. Gibbons comes up from the village a couple of times aweek.

I've managed to make the kitchen habitable, plus one of the bed rooms, but as for the rest..."

" It's a very large house for one man," Sara ventured.

They had almost reached the back door and he paused now, turning to lookat her.

" Yes," he agreed bleakly.

" When I bought it, I hadn't actually visualised living here alone."

Immediately Sara guessed what must have happened Like her, he hadobviously been rejected by the person he loved. Perhaps she had notwanted to live in such an isolated spot. Perhaps she had been someone hehad met in Canada who had not wanted to come and live in England, whohad not loved him enough. No one knew better than she how much that kindof rejection hurt. how it scarred and wounded. She wanted to reach outto him, to touch him, to offer him her sympathy, her understanding, buthe was al ready taming away from her, extracting some keys from hispocket and unlocking the kitchen door.

As he held it open for her, he reached inside and flicked on the lights.

Sara stepped past him and into the generous- sized room, catching herbreath in admiration as she saw how it had been transformed from the dreary place she remembered.

Walls had been moved to make the room larger; the kitchen range, whichshe vaguely remembered as a crouching evil monster that belched smokeand was covered in rust, had been transformed somehow or other into amodel of polished perfection, whose presence warmed the entire room,offering the two cats curled up on top of it a comfortable place tosleep.

Where she remembered a haphazard collection of tatty utilitariancupboards, and a chipped stone sink, there were now beautifully madeunits in what she suspected was reclaimed oak, from the quality andsheen of their finish. The original stone floor had been cleaned andpolished and was now partially covered with earth-toned Indian rugs; the walls had been painted a soft, warm, peachy terra cotta colour; onthe dresser, which like the units was oak and softly polished, stood acollection of pewter jugs and a service of traditional willow-patternchina.

A deep, comfortably solid-looking settee was pulled up close to therange, and the table in the centre of the room looked large enough andsolid enough to accommodate agood-sized family.

In fact all that the room lacked to make it perfect was perhaps someflowers in the heavy pewter jugs, and of course the delicious warm smellof food cooking which she always a.s.sociated with her mother's kitchenand her mother's love.

" This is wonderful," she commented admiringly, swinging round to faceStuart and to say wryly," I don't know who installed these units foryou, but I do know that they must have cost the earth the quality of thewood alone..."

" Reclaimed oak," he told her offhandedly.

" I picked it up quite cheaply, and as for the units..." He shrugged,and turned away from her.

" I made them myself. Not a particularly difficult task."

He sounded so offhand that for a moment Sara felt embarra.s.sed that she had enthused about them so much, and then she recognised that her praisehad probably embarra.s.sed him, that he perhaps wasn't actually used tohis talents being admired.

While she a.s.similated these thoughts, she chalked up another black markagainst the woman who had rejected him. Had he built this kitchen forher, working on it with love and hope, only to find.

Tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away hurriedly, and heard herselfsaying in an oddly choked voice," Well, no matter what you say, / thinkthey look wonderful. The wood--there's something about it that makes youwant to touch it... to stroke it almost..." She broke off, feelingthoroughly embarra.s.sed as she realised that he had turned round and wa.s.scrutinising her.

" Not many people recognise that quality in wood, that appeal; to mostof them it's simply... wood. They don't recognise its tactile appeal..."He stopped.

" Sorry, I'm starting to lecture you. If you haven't eaten all day youmust be starving. I'll see what Mrs. G. has left."

He opened the door and disappeared in the direction of what Sararemembered as being one of the house's cold pantries, returning withinseconds with a covered dish.

" It looks like shepherd's pie," he told her.

" Wonderful." She could feel her empty stomach starting to grumblehungrily at the thought of food.

This was the first time she had actually felt hungry since Ian haddropped the bombsh.e.l.l announcement of his engagement. The first time shehad found herself able to forget her own problems and become interestedin something and someone else, she recognised as Stuart switched on theoven and opened it, placing the pie dish on one of its runners.

" Mrs. G. tells me that it is possible to cook things in the range," hetold Sara ruefully.

" But as yet I haven't quite mastered the knack."

" I'm not surprised."

Sara told him about her visits to the house as a child, admiring the wayhe had managed to re store the range.

" I enjoyed it. In the winter, when the daylight hours are so short,having the house to work on is an ideal means of finding something todo."

He paused, his face slightly shadowed, and Sara wondered sympatheticallyif he was thinking about her, the woman he loved. thinking about how different things might have been were she here to share his life withhim. He looked so sombre that she half turned away from him,instinctively wanting to give him privacy for his feelings and she wa.s.surprised to hear him saying," The problem is that, instead ofrenovating the house, what I ought to be doing is tackling the mountainof paperwork that's ama.s.sing in the study.

" That's proving to be my biggest headache since I inherited thebusiness. It seems that an inability to deal accurately and efficientlywith paperwork is a family trait. My uncle's affairs were in such a messthat I had to hire a firm of accountants to get them straightened out.

They recommended a computer and a software program, both for thefinancial aspects of the business and for keeping a record of thereplanting schemes I intend to set up, but the first time I tried to usethe d.a.m.n thing..." He sounded so exasperated that Sara turned to look athim. He had pushed his fingers into his hair as he spoke to her in agesture of impatient irritation which con firmed her earlier opinionthat it needed cutting.

His hair was thick and glossy, almost black, so very different fromlan's expertly styled blond hair.

" I don't know why it is, but I seem to havea blind spot where paperworkis concerned." He was scowling slightly, suddenly looking very muchyounger. almost like a little boy. The thought of anyone consideringsuch a large and tough-looking man as a little boy amused Sara enough tomake a small smile curve her mouth. She saw Stuart looking at her, andrealised that he was focusing on her face. on her mouth itself.

The instant reaction that ricocheted through her body stunned her intoimmobility, followed by an astonis.h.i.+ng urge to touch her tongue-tip toher lips to relieve their unfamiliar dryness. It was so long since shehad been aware of how very erotic it could be to have a man's attentionfocused on her mouth in that particular way that it was several secondsbefore she recognised her reaction for what it was.

Immediately her face became suffused with a wave of hot colour, whichintensified as she realised abruptly that Stuart probably hadn't beenfocusing on her mouth in any remotely sensual way at all, but had farmore likely mistaken her smile for contempt at his inability to copewith his paperwork.

Embarra.s.sment and a desire to rectify matters rushed her intoill-considered speech, so that be fore she knew it she was sayingquickly," Well, if there's anything / can do to help... I'm going to behere for... for some time. I might not be familiar with your software,but I could perhaps make some headway with the ordinary paper work."

He was watching her with so much surprise that she stopped speaking, herface burning again.

" I'm sorry," she started to apologise.

" You've probably made arrangements of your own. You ' " No. No, Ihaven't," he a.s.sured her.

" And if you really mean it... I can't tell you what a headache it'sbeen. I just don't seem to be able to get to grips with it at all.

You're intending to be around for some time, then?"

" Er yes..." She fidgeted with the b.u.t.tons on her suit-jacket, bitingher lip.

" As a matter of fact..." She couldn't bring her self to look at him, butsooner or later everyone locally was bound to know anyway that she hadgiven up her London job.

" I've... I've decided to take a brief sabbatical. Spend a few months athome. I... I miss the country and my family."

She was struggling for an explanation that would sound acceptable,logical, mature. and not the impulse decision of a child.

To her relief he didn't question her, but said instead," I don't blame you.

London, or any other city, has never appealed to me."

While he talked to her, Stuart was moving easily round the kitchen,taking knives and forks from a drawer, putting two of the plates to warm.

For sucha big man he moved very deftly, quietly and calmly in a way thatwas somehow like his very presence, soothing and rea.s.suring.

When the oven timer pinged to announce that their supper was ready, heserved it up on to the two plates and handed Sara hers, suggesting thatshe should sit with her back to the range in order to keep warm.

" I'm afraid I'm not exactly fit to sit down and eat with someone," heapologised ruefully as he took his own place.

He had discarded his Wellingtons when he'd come into the kitchen and hadwashed the mud off his hands, but he was still wearing the worn s.h.i.+rtand ripped jeans he had had on when they first met. However, now,instead of contrasting them with lan's immaculate pin-striped suits andperfectly laundered s.h.i.+rts, Sara discovered that she actually felt morecomfortable with him because he was so casually dressed. It made herfeel at ease in a way she had never done with Ian. more able to relaxand be herself instead of being crippled by the necessity of looking andbeing her best. She was, she discovered as she tucked into her food,enjoying being the recipient of his concern and attention, instead ofhaving to do all the work. instead of having, as she had always felt shehad to when she was with Ian, to do all the entertaining.

It was only as she ate that she recognised how artificial even herworking relations.h.i.+p with Ian had been, and how she had always beenstriving to attain a standard of perfection which would somehow or otherchange his att.i.tude towards her, make him turn to her. make him wanther. She had been like someone bewitched, someone pursuing an impossiblegoal, she recognised uncomfortably, and yet she loved Ian; that should have meant that he of all people was the one she had feltmost at home, most comfortable, most happy with.

She pushed such disturbing and unwanted thoughts aside, concentratinginstead on drawing Stuart out about his plans for his business and thehouse.

He had a fascinating fund of stories about his years abroad working forthe Forestry Commission in a variety of locations, she discovered, andtheir supper had long been eaten, their coffee drunk and everythingwashed up and cleared away, before she happened to glance at her watchand discover that it was almost one o'clock in the morning.

" Heavens, what must you think of me?" she apologised.

" Talk about guests overstaying their welcome! And I expect you'll haveto be up early in the morning."

" Not that early. Besides, it isn't often that I have the pleasure of anattractive and intelligent woman's company."

Sara froze. Intelligent she might be. but attractive." Have I saidsomething wrong?"

The quiet question threw her a little. She was so used tolan sometimesalmost s.a.d.i.s.tic method of extending a compliment, only to withdraw itwhen she reached out to grasp it, that she had no idea how to react to aman who genuinely seemed not to understand that she was well aware ofher lack of s.e.xual desirability, and knew quite well that he could notpossibly have found her attractive. Even so, there was no doubt that hehad meant the compliment as a kindness rather than a cruelty, and shehad no wish to spoil the harmony of the evening they had shared bypointing out to him that it was unnecessary for him to flatter her withremarks she knew were not true.

" I'm just rather tired," she fibbed.

" I really ought to be making a move."

" Yes. It is getting late. I'm afraid I've selfishly kept you herelonger than I should. I'll drive you back now." He paused, and seemed toconsider something before asking her," You'll feel quite happy aboutstaying in the house on your own?"

His thoughtfulness surprised her. She was so used tolan expecting her tobe self-sufficient that she found it oddly heart-warming to be treatedas though she were vulnerable. fragile al most.

" I'll be fine," she a.s.sured him, adding apologetically as sheremembered something she ought to have said earlier," I feel very guiltyabout the way I've taken up your evening and eaten half of your supper.

So stupid of me to faint like that. I..."

" You never faint," he broke in, grinning at her.

" Yes, I know. That was the first thing you said to me when you cameround, as I remember."

" So stupid of me... rus.h.i.+ng down here without stopping to eat andwithout phoning to check that Mum and Dad would be here. I must ringthem in the morning. See how Jacqui's getting on."

" It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to leave London and... and yourjob, then?" Stuart asked her a few minutes later as they walked towardsthe Land Rover.

She knew that in the circ.u.mstances it was a natural enough question, buteven so she could feel herself tensing, her skin tight with discomfortand despair, her heart aching as she dwelt on exactly why she had comehome so precipitately, like a child running back to the comfort of itsparents' arms.

" In a way..."

Something in her response must have warned him off, because he said, farmore formally," I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

" No, that's all right." She was, she realised, probably over-reacting,and besides, besides, suddenly, for some reason she couldn't reallyfathom, she wanted to tell him the truth. She had always loathedpretence, deceit." I gave up my job because..." She turned away from himand told him quickly, tersely," Because I'm in love with Ian, my boss.