Summer's Awakening (57 page)

Summer told her the gist of their conversation on the subject. It was not one she was likely to forget.

'So you didn't tell him you were in love with him?'

'No! How could I?'

'Why not? Men have been laying their hearts at our feet for centuries, and they haven't always been turned down gently and tactfully. Equal rights involve equal risks. If you laid your heart at his feet, I doubt if he'd kick it or trample on it. He'd be flattered and possibly delighted. For all you know, he may have discovered that he feels more warmly towards you than he did at the time he proposed.'

Summer shook her head. 'I—I think he may be beginning to fall in love with someone else.'

'Will she make him happier than you would?'

'No.'

'Then fight for him, my dear. Who is this other woman you think he may be interested in?'

But this wasn't something which Summer felt able to confide. 'I could be mistaken. Anyway he can never marry her.'

'In that case you've nothing to fear. From my knowledge of his character, James is not the type to allow his life to be blighted by a yen for a woman he can't have. If she's married and won't leave her husband because of children or whatever, I'm sure he will cut his losses. He has a romantic streak but he's primarily a realist—as I am.'

She paused, concentrating on her work for some moments before adding, 'I've loved three men in my life and I know that, if I hadn't met them, I shouldn't have gone through life alone. There are other men in existence whom I could have loved equally deeply had my life taken a different course. I don't expect you to believe that because at the moment, for you, James is the sun and the stars. Perhaps he always will be. There are women who love only once. But one thing I do know for certain is that, when you are my age, it's the chances you
didn't
take, the opportunities you
didn't
seize, which you regret. If I were you, my dear, I shouldn't dither any longer. I'd go back and tell James how I felt.'

When Summer returned to the apartment she found a message waiting for her. The other two, who had gone to Cambridge for the day so that Emily could meet one of her heroes, Sir Clive Sinclair, a pioneer of British electronics, were dining there and wouldn't be back until late.

This threw her into a fever of impatience. Never had time passed so slowly. She attempted to read and, when she found she couldn't concentrate, to watch television. That didn't grip her attention either, so she switched off the set and began to pace restlessly about, rehearsing ways to tell James how much she loved him.

Many times during that interminable evening, her courage faltered. What if he turned her down? How could she bear it if he rejected her: either the immediate mortification or the long-term despair of facing a future without him? For if, however tactfully, he made it clear that he didn't want her, she couldn't possibly stay on as Emily's companion.

It was after ten o'clock when she heard the scrape of a key in the outer door. Sitting down with the discarded book, she took some deep breaths to steady her vibrating nerves. When Emily burst into the room, exclaiming, 'You should have come with us. We've had a fabulous day,' she was able to put the book aside and say calmly, 'Have you? Tell me all about it.'

Emily's description of the delights to be found in the Fitzwilliam Museum, and of their meeting with the admired Sir Clive Sinclair, took a full fifteen minutes. By the time she paused for breath, James had been to the kitchen to make coffee for himself and Summer and to fill a glass of milk for his niece.

'What have you been doing with yourself?' he enquired.

'Exploring London... nothing special.'

She thought he looked rather worn; not as if he had been enjoying himself.

He said, 'I think we've spent enough time here. Tomorrow we'll move on.'

'Where to?' asked Emily.

'To Austria. I was planning to spend Christmas there and then return to New York early in January.'

'What fun! I'll go and start packing. Thanks for a super day, James. 'Night.'

Carrying her glass of milk, she dropped a kiss on his head and blew one to Summer before she waltzed out of the room.

As the door closed behind her, James slid down in his chair, stretched his long legs across the rug and leaned his dark head on the backrest.

Watching him lounge with closed eyes, his hands thrust into the pockets of his trousers, Summer wished she knew what he was thinking.

After some moments of silence, she said quietly, 'Are you exhausted?'

At once he opened his eyes and rolled his head to look towards her. 'No, not at all. Just glad to relax in your restful company.' He smiled at her.

It was the encouragement she needed. 'Actually there's something I'd like to discuss with you.'

'Go ahead.'

'A long time ago... in Nantucket... you said that we... you and I... had the makings or a "workable marriage". Do you remember?'

She paused, half expecting a frown or a look of discomfiture at the reminder of an offer which he now regretted. But although he looked surprised, James didn't appear to be embarrassed.

'Yes, of course I remember,' he said evenly.

'You said at the time that you hoped to make me change my mind... and you'd raise the subject again at a later date. But you never have.'

There was a considerable pause before he answered, 'Are you telling me
you
have changed your mind?'

She swallowed, her mouth dry with nervousness. 'Yes... yes, I have.'

James sat up. His expression as he watched her make this difficult admission had never been more poker-faced. She felt herself redden under his thoughtful scrutiny. At last he said one word.

'Why?'

'A lot has happened since then. We're not the same people we were. The objections I raised last time are no longer valid. I—I think now we
could
make a life together... if you're still willing to try?'

'Perhaps... I'm not sure,' he said guardedly. 'As you say, the situation has altered since you turned me down flat in Nantucket. However, I hadn't realised that your views on marriage had undergone a transformation. At that time, I recall, you were adamant that the only basis for marriage was both parties loving each other to the extent of being unable to live without each other.'

'I still believe that's the ideal. But if the ideal isn't possible then one has to compromise. When we talked about this before I—I didn't think you were capable of taking
any
woman seriously. Your detachment repelled me. It seemed so... inhuman. Now I know that you are capable of caring for someone, it makes all the difference. Even if you can never feel that way about
me,
having loved someone and not been able to tell her must make you more understanding of other people's emotions.'

His dark eyebrows drew together in a forbidding frown. 'I don't know what you're talking about.'

She could see he was deeply displeased by even an oblique reference to his hopeless passion for the one girl who could never be his.

'Don't be angry, James,' she appealed. 'Surely you know you can trust me with your secret?'

When he continued to scowl at her, she went on, 'After tonight I shall never speak of it again. I realise how painful it must be. I wouldn't have mentioned it now except that I've come to realise that you are too strong a character to let it affect your whole life. And I don't believe that, after being in love with Emily, you can ever revert to those soulless relationships you used to have with women.'

It was in the open at last. Would he deny it? Would he be bitterly angry with her for divining the cruel come-uppance which life had had in store for a man who had once dismissed love as nonsense?

Being James, whose reactions were never predictable, he didn't deny it, nor did he lose his temper with her. For some seconds, which seemed like minutes, he sat in silence, looking at her, his eyes narrowed almost to slits, the muscles of his jaw bunched under the taut brown skin, showing how tightly his teeth were clamped together.

When at last he spoke, his voice was quiet and controlled.

'You're ready to marry me... believing me to be in love with Emily?'

She nodded. 'You see I've changed as well.' Unconciously she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders before she gave away her own secret. 'I've discovered I love you. I've known it for quite some time and... and it seems to me that, if you can never have the person you really want, you might as well settle for me, as you once intended to.'

For a few ghastly moments she thought he was searching for the least humiliating way to reject her proposal.

Then, slowly, he rose to his feet and came to stand towering above her.

'It seems to
me
that we don't know each other well enough to marry. I was under the impression that you'd never been at ease in my presence since the night I tried to take you to bed. And if you seriously believe I'm nursing an incestuous passion for my teenage niece, you're way off beam about my feelings. The girl I want isn't Emily?'

'She isn't?'

He reached down and grasped both her hands. 'Of course she isn't... you dumb blonde.'

The next instant she was in his arms, held close to his tall strong body with her face pressed against his shoulder.

'Oh, God—it seems like
a
decade since I held you... touched you,' he exclaimed hoarsely. 'How could you possibly believe that I felt this way about Emily? Not only is she my niece, but she's years too young for
a
man of my age.'

'But she isn't fully your niece... and she is such a darling.'

She felt him tense slightly. 'What do you mean? Not fully my niece?'

Summer lifted her face to look up at him. '
I
know you and Lord Edgedale were only half-brothers... that you're the son of a high-ranking American army officer.'

His face didn't darken with anger as she feared it might. He seemed no more than surprised. 'Where did you hear that?'

'I went to see Diana Kendall. After I'd admitted that I loved you, she told me. Oh, James, I can't believe you care for me.'

'I thought I was making it plain enough by spending most of my time with you. How was I to know you'd dream up the crazy idea that Emily was the magnet who drew me?'

'I feel I may be dreaming this... being in your arms at long last. Kiss me before I wake up.'

He bent his head and pressed a soft, tender kiss on her upturned mouth. Her lips quivered under his. She couldn't believe that it was happening; that one simple act of courage had brought this amazing reward.

The kiss deepened, igniting the passion which had blazed between them those precious times before. This time her response wasn't forced from her. She gave it willingly, eagerly.

'We've wasted so much time already. Need we waste any more?' he asked, in a husky murmur, a little later.

For answer she pressed herself closer, as impatient as he was to give full rein to their desire. 'Not a single minute,' she whispered, against his hard cheek. 'I want to sleep in your bed... in your arms. I never want to sleep alone again.'

Holding her by the hand, he switched out the sitting room lights and led her swiftly to his room. There he locked the door and crossed the room to close the curtains, shutting out the faint glow from the street lamps and plunging the room into deeper darkness. But only briefly.