More Than Neighbors (12 page)

“Please, Catalina, it will only be for a few days. You’ll like Hallcourt Abbey; you’ll be able to paint there. I promise you it’s one of the most beautiful places in England. I’ll even make a donation to your school. Please . . .”

Cat was finding it very difficult to resist his imploring expression. “I’m going to feel like a paid escort.”

“I said I’d make a donation to your school, not you,” her neighbor corrected her.

“And what’ll happen when we call off our engagement after the trip? What will your mother think?”

“I’ll let her think we’re still engaged for a few months; it’ll buy me some more time.”

He made everything seem so normal that Catalina began to doubt her own reservations. “Of course, we won’t be doing any more fooling around . . . And we won’t sleep in the same room, will we?” she asked, as if the idea had just occurred to her.

“Of course not. My mother’s the old-fashioned sort, and anyway, my family’s never been prone to public displays of affection. I’ll treat you in a politely affectionate way; you won’t have any complaints.”

“I don’t know, Leo,” she eventually said, looking doubtful. “I think we’re treading on dangerous ground. We’ve just agreed that our relationship will be purely platonic, and now, not two minutes later, you’re telling me I have to act like we’re engaged. We could be playing with fire.”

“Nonsense. Nothing will happen. Do you accept my invitation then?” He gave her an expectant look.

Cat examined his manly, serious face and wondered how those tight lips could be the same ones that had kissed her with so much passion. She shook her head; she shouldn’t think of such things, she told herself. Now she had to focus on another matter: a friend was asking for help with a problem. “Okay, I’ll go with you to Hallcourt Abbey,” she agreed with some reluctance.

“Perfect.” Leopold slowly let out the breath he’d been holding in without realizing it. He had a sudden urge to leap and cheer, but naturally, he contained himself.

“Will I need any special clothes?”

“I’m sure we’ll receive invitations from neighbors, but mostly it will all be quite relaxed. Take something to ride in, and of course, your painting things. It’s a beautiful place. I promise you won’t regret this, Catalina,” he assured her affectionately.

CHAPTER 14

A couple of days later, on a sunny midspring morning, they were traveling down the A38 in Leopold’s Range Rover stuffed with luggage; Cat’s canvases, paints, and easel; and of course, Milo, heading west to Cornwall.

Now that she’d gotten used to the idea, Catalina enjoyed admiring the landscape of bucolic green fields and picturesque little villages that flew past the window. She’d only been in Cornwall once, as a child, and she remembered loving it.

Leopold glanced at her face, lit up with a smile, and was pleased that he’d persuaded her to come. The very day she’d agreed to go, he decided to abandon his plans to seduce her. Catalina was right: it would be better if they remained friends.

When Leopold finally pulled the car up in front of the gigantic iron fence that skirted the estate, he felt as if the journey had taken no time at all. After passing through the gate adorned with coats of arms, they drove down a broad gravel path, flanked by immense centuries-old oak trees, through a vast park to the imposing manor house. The Venetian Renaissance–style house was built from local stone, with a large cupola and numerous chimney stacks on the roof. In the lovely classical gardens that surrounded it, flowering lilacs emitted a sweet scent. Cat’s eyes opened wide. “Gosh, Leopold, what a beautiful house!” Her neighbor enjoyed the evident delight on her expressive face.

The giant timber door opened, and an immaculately uniformed old man came out to meet them. “Welcome, Master Leopold. It’s a pleasure to have you here again after such a long time,” the elderly man said solemnly.

“Thank you, Saunders, I’m glad to be here, too. This is Miss Catalina Stapleton, my fiancée.” The old butler bent over in a bow fit for a queen, and Catalina felt a little flustered. “What room have you prepared for her?”

“The green room, Master Leopold.”

“Perfect,” he said with a smile, satisfied. “Call James and have him take our luggage up. Oh! And get him to take care of the dog.” Leopold took Cat by the hand and climbed the grand stone staircase with her.

“Leo,” she whispered nervously. “I don’t know if I’m up to playing the part. I wasn’t expecting all this.”

“What did you expect?” He looked at her with amusement.

“I don’t know, but I didn’t realize you were so tremendously rich.”

Leopold squeezed her hand, trying to put her at ease. “Don’t worry, you’ll soon get used to it.”

“Ahem.” Someone subtly cleared his throat behind them. Catalina quickly turned and found herself face-to-face with the expressionless butler. Unnerved, she wondered whether he had heard her. “Master Leopold, your mother instructed me to show you to the yellow drawing room as soon as you arrived.”

At his words, Leo’s attractive face darkened a little and he shrugged. “Very well.”

Saunders, followed by Leopold and Catalina, who listened, awestruck, to the echo of her footsteps on the beautiful marble floor of the immense entrance hall, led them to one of the many doors, opened it, and announced, “My Lady, Miss Catalina Stapleton and Master Leopold have arrived.”

Leopold glanced sidelong at Cat, trying to guess what she thought of the formality with which his mother liked to surround herself, but all that the young woman’s face betrayed was interest and wonder at everything she saw.

The room was beautifully furnished with antiques, but despite the sun pouring in through the large windows, a fire blazed in the hearth, making the temperature unbearable. They approached an uncomfortable-looking settee upholstered in gold silk, upon which sat an elderly yet arresting woman, waiting for them with her back as straight as a board. With a stiff “Hello, Leopold,” she greeted him and regally lifted her almost wrinkle-free face for him to kiss.

“Hello, Mother.” Leopold barely brushed his lips against her smooth cheek.

Cat was surprised by the icy welcome but tried not to show it. The woman turned toward her. “Welcome to Hallcourt Abbey, Miss Stapleton.”

“Pleased to meet you, Lady Sinclair. Thank you very much for welcoming me to your beautiful home, but do call me Cat.” Catalina gave Leo’s mother one of her most charming smiles and held out her hand. The woman shook it languidly as she looked her over with icy gray eyes, very similar to her son’s. For a moment, Cat felt an almost irrepressible urge to run out of the room, but she stood firm, reminding herself that Leo needed her. She suddenly felt sorry for her rich neighbor for having a mother like this.

“Sit,” ordered Lady Sinclair, pointing at a pair of chairs that matched the settee and looked even less comfortable, if that was possible. “I’d be interested to hear what it is you do . . . Cat.” She hesitated before saying her name, as if it was a bad word.

Suddenly, the fear that Cat had been feeling ever since she’d arrived at the imposing, stately home evaporated, and she saw the funny side of the situation; she knew that her friend Fiona would fall to the floor laughing when Cat told her about all this. “I’m an art teacher. I work with children with disabilities,” she answered with some formality, sitting straight in her chair.

“How interesting,” her hostess declared in a tone that suggested she thought quite the opposite.

“Yes, it really is. I love my job!” she exclaimed.

“And tell me, dear, who are your parents?”

“My father’s Martin Stapleton, a retired English teacher, and my mother’s Marisa Herrera, a nurse, also retired. They live on a little farm in Herefordshire.”

“For a moment, I thought you were related to the Stapletons; you know, the relations of the Duke of Norwich.”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Cat shook her head with force, and her hair flapped from side to side. “There’s not one drop of blue blood in my veins. More like black, considering my great-grandfather was a Welsh coal miner.”

The look of horror on his mother’s face made Leopold want to bellow with laughter, but he remained impassive and merely watched the exchange of questions and answers as if it were a hard-fought tennis match.

“Did you know, the first Sinclair we know of arrived with the cortege of William the Conqueror,” his mother declared, as if wanting Cat to see just how insignificant she was.

“Oh, Leo! You never tell me anything!” Cat looked at him with feigned outrage.

“I’m sorry, darling, I’d forgotten all about it,” her neighbor replied with unwavering English stolidity.

“Leo!” His mother wrinkled her nose as if there were a bad smell.

“William the Conqueror, eh! What a wonderful story,” Catalina continued, as if she hadn’t heard her. “Anyway, as I was saying, Lady Sinclair, I can only go back as far as my Welsh great-grandfather. No one ever knew who the father of my maternal grandfather was. The poor wretch was abandoned at the door to a convent in Seville.” She gave a sad sigh, then turned to Leopold with a wicked glint in her eyes. “Darling, what say we call our first son Guillermo?”

Leopold took her hand in his and held it to his lips. “I’d like nothing more, my love.”

“As you can see, Lady Sinclair, Leo and I are so in love that we agree on everything.” She gave him such a look of adoration that his pulse accelerated.

“So I see,” the lady of the house replied dryly, and with a majestic gesture she signaled that the audience was over. “You should go up to your rooms and freshen up; dinner will be served at seven sharp.”

Relieved, Leopold and Cat stood at the same time and left the suffocating room as quickly as possible, like two small children narrowly escaping punishment. “Well done, Catalina.” Her neighbor congratulated her in all seriousness. “You’ve made it through the first set with not a hair out of place. We’ll see how the rest of the match goes.”

“You could’ve warned me, Leo,” she protested, frowning. “Is she always like that?”

“Ever since I’ve known her.”

“Poor rich boy,” whispered Cat with compassion, as she gently stroked his cheek.

“Don’t feel sorry for me. My privileged upbringing more than made up for it.” Visibly stiffening, he quickly separated from her.

Catalina realized that, once again, he was putting up his defenses. She changed the subject. “It’s a gorgeous house, Leopold; I want you to show me everything!” She spun in place, gazing up at the beautiful paneled ceiling.

“I promise I will, but I’d better show you to your room first. Come on.” Leo took her by the hand, and they quickly climbed the impressive marble stairway that split into two before reaching the upper floor. Leopold opened a door and stood aside to let her in. The room was fresh and bright, clad in wallpaper with an ivy motif. There was an immense stone hearth by the large four-poster bed, and a curved bay window with a wooden bench running around it, topped with a comfortable cushion, made a romantic nook for reading.

Catalina couldn’t contain her enthusiasm when she saw the room, while Leopold discreetly watched all the emotions flashing across her expressive face. “It’s the most stunning bedroom I’ve ever seen!”

“Look, this is the bathroom. You’ll have to share it with me; that’s the trouble with old houses, it’s difficult to sort out the necessary plumbing.”

The bathroom was immense, and natural light poured in through a large window, across from which was an old claw-foot bathtub. “I love it, I love it. My God, what a bath I’m going to have in this fabulous tub!” Cat went from one side of the room to the other, admiring everything.

At the end of the room was another door disguised as a wall panel, which led to another bedroom. “And this is my room.” Leo opened the door and invited her in. “For privacy, all you have to do is fasten the latch on the other side.”

“Perfect.”

Leopold’s room was sensational, too, but the décor was much more masculine. Instead of a reading bench, in front of the bay window, identical to the one in Cat’s room, was an old mahogany desk and a chair. “I can’t wait to see the rest of the house!” Catalina’s enthusiasm was contagious.

“Don’t you want to rest for a while?” he asked, amused by her extraordinary energy.

“Do
you
?” she asked, clearly disappointed.

Leopold suppressed a burst of laughter. “All right, I’ll knock on your door in twenty minutes.”

Cat shot him a dazzling smile and disappeared through the bathroom door, closing it behind her.

Exactly twenty minutes later, Leopold called on Catalina, and they spent the next two hours exploring the immense manor house from top to bottom. Cat appeared tireless and kept up a continuous stream of questions, and through his detailed answers, he began to see the stately home through different eyes.

Leopold had a love-hate relationship with Hallcourt Abbey. He had spent a solitary childhood between its walls. His father died when he was just five, and a private tutor had been responsible for his education until his mother sent him to Eton College when he was twelve. On a material level, he’d had more than anyone could wish for, but his mother had always been more demanding than affectionate, and as the only son and heir, all the family’s expectations fell on him.

From early on, his mother’s painful lack of tenderness and an absence of playmates his own age had made the solitary boy erect protective barriers around himself. As he now showed Cat the nooks and crannies that brought back so many memories, Leopold understood that the walls that he had raised around himself when he was a child still remained in place, even if, since he’d met Catalina, a few stones had begun to crack and were threatening to crumble.

He watched the young woman; she was captivated by the portrait gallery of his ancestors. He suddenly understood why he’d initially thought he didn’t like his neighbor: from the beginning, he somehow had sensed that Catalina would be the earthquake that would shake the foundations of his defenses, and, terrified, he’d clung to them tooth and nail. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to crumble; after all, they’d protected him for most of his life, and without them he would feel naked.

“Who’s this? He looks a lot like you.” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Catalina was pointing at a painting of an impressive-looking man, dressed in the fashions of the nineteenth century, staring down at her with severity.

“It’s John Leopold Saint Clair Sinclair, my great-great-grandfather. He was the one who restored the family fortune, trading goods he imported from India. His overseas enterprise laid the foundations of Sinclair & Associates.”

“He looks formidable. If you wore a frock coat like his, you’d be identical,” she said, fascinated.

“Do you think I look at you with such a disapproving expression?”

Cat turned to him, smiling. “You certainly do. You’ve always looked at me as if I were an insect in your path that only courtesy stops you from treading on.”

“I’m sorry you think that,” he replied stiffly.

“See?” Cat gave a burst of laughter. Then she stretched out her hand and massaged his brow with the tips of her fingers. Leopold stood stock-still at her delicate touch, wishing it would end but at the same time praying it would go on for eternity. When the lines in his forehead relaxed, he moved away. “We should go and change for dinner,” he said, still recovering from the sensations stirred up by his neighbor’s cool fingers on his skin.