Just then, their conversation was interrupted by someone practically shrieking Jake’s name across the room. Two women with almost identical sleek and high-lighted hairstyles sashayed over and began to monopolise him. One leaned forward to kiss his cheeks in an exaggerated show of affection, while the other put a proprietorial hand on his arm. Their behaviour made Melissa want to grit her teeth.
‘Jake, darling, how are you? You never turned up for Anne’s party last week, we were so worried about you. Was it work again?’ The taller of the two fixed Jake with a look of concern that was as fake as her spray-tan.
‘Er, yes, too much to do as always.’ Jake nodded, a slight frown appearing, as if he didn’t like being questioned like that.
‘Poor man, you work too hard. All work and no play, it just won’t do, you know, we’ve told you before.’ The other woman playfully smacked his arm as if he’d been a naughty schoolboy. ‘Come on, let’s go and have a cup of tea. They must have started serving it by now. The girls can make their own way down to the dining room.’
The two chattering women started to lead Jake away, but he dug in his heels and protested. ‘Hold on a minute. I was just talking to Mr Jones and Ms Grantham. Perhaps they’d like to join us?’
The women turned enquiring glances on Steve and Melissa and for once she was glad when Steve answered for both of them.
‘Thanks, but we’re not quite done here yet. Maybe we’ll catch up with you later.’
‘Of course. Come and join us when you’ve finished looking at your daughter’s little efforts.’
The woman’s words made Melissa see red, since they seemed to imply that Jolie’s artwork was nothing to write home about. ‘Patronising bitch,’ she murmured without thinking after their retreating backs, then looked up as Steve chuckled.
‘Too right. Come on, princess,’ he ushered Jolie towards the display, ‘show us your “little” efforts. I bet they’re a hundred percent better than anything that woman’s kid can produce.’
His words helped to smooth things over and made Jolie laugh. Melissa was grateful to him. Jolie’s self-confidence was still fragile and the stupid woman could have done more damage than she had intended if it hadn’t been for Steve.
She watched Jake leave the room and a sensation of acute loss overwhelmed her. It was like a pain twisting her insides and she wanted to bend double to contain it. With an effort she stayed upright, cursing under her breath.
This is crazy.
‘Mum, come and see! And look what Amy’s done. She’s incredibly talented and she wants to be an artist when she grows up.’
‘Hmm? Oh, yes, very nice.’
Melissa dutifully admired Amy’s paintings, which really were extraordinarily good, but her mind was still on Jake. She breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made their way to the dining room for the promised tea. Soon she would be able to leave, then she could escape back to her ordered world of family trees where she felt safe.
‘Really, Sir Roger, you seem to have led a most interesting life. It sounds so romantic, being a knight.’ The Lady Isobel sighed, laying a dainty hand on his muscular forearm as she spoke. He had to force himself not to snatch his arm away; the gesture felt too familiar after such a short acquaintance.
‘Do you think so, my lady?’ Roger privately thought that only a silly, empty-headed female could perceive any romance in the life of an itinerant knight. The reality was for the most part tedious and a lot of hard work, although there were moments of excitement from time to time.
‘Oh, yes! Only think of all the wonderful places you must have visited, the sights you have seen. We poor ladies seldom travel much.’ She fluttered her eyelashes at him, but her limpid blue eyes failed to impress him in the slightest.
Roger realised that before arriving at Idenhurst, Lady Isobel was precisely the type of woman he would have admired. Small and exquisitely beautiful, well-rounded and with a ripple of corn-coloured, elaborately coiffed hair peeping out from under her headdress, she was similar to any number of women he had dallied with in the past. Her rather blatant overtures would have pleased him, rather than repulsed him as they did now, and he would have gladly taken what she was offering. Now, however, he yearned only for one woman. A tall, red-haired female with grey eyes and dimples. He wanted no other.
‘Later,’ he had promised her, and he suppressed a sigh as he resigned himself to spending more time with Lady Isobel first. She was an important guest, and it wouldn’t be wise to offend anyone if he wished to stay on in this household. For the moment, he most certainly did.
And he wasn’t leaving without Sibell.
Jake stifled a sigh and followed Anne Dowling and Celia Montgomery to the dining room. They’d been friends with Karen and, since her death, they had been trying to persuade him to socialise, claiming it wasn’t good for him to sit at home and brood. Although he knew they were right about that, spending time with them wasn’t the answer, he was convinced of that. He couldn’t stand either of them.
‘Now Jake darling, you are coming to Caroline’s party this weekend, aren’t you?’
‘Party?’ he echoed, vaguely remembering a fancy embossed invite which he’d tossed onto the table without really reading.
‘Really, Jake, it’s the social event of the season around here. Even you must know that.’ Celia laughed and Jake wondered why her low, seductive voice and lovely features didn’t have any effect on him. He was sure she was the sort of woman most men would fancy, but she did nothing for him.
‘Umm, I’m not sure if I’m free,’ he hedged. ‘Lots of people off on their holidays still, you know, so we’re run off our feet.’
Anne tut-tutted, as if he were a naughty child. ‘No, that simply won’t do. Tell the others you’ve got to have a night off. We insist, don’t we, Celia?’
‘Absolutely.’
Jake felt hunted, trapped by two predators with no way out. But perhaps they were right? What harm could it do to go to a cocktail party, after all? They normally didn’t last very long and if he remembered correctly, Caroline whatever-her-name-was entertained on a lavish scale. The canapés would be to die for.
‘All right, I’ll see what I can do,’ he said, caving in. ‘Remind me again about the details?’
Anne and Celia were only too happy to fill him in and made him enter the date and time in his diary.
‘Now don’t you dare stay at home, or we’ll come and drag you out of your lair,’ Celia purred and slapped him playfully on the arm again, just as Melissa and her ex-husband and daughter entered the dining room. Jake mumbled some reply to Celia, but his entire attention was focused on Melissa, whose brief glance at his two companions was decidedly unfriendly.
For some reason that pleased him, as did the fact that she kept her distance from Steve and carefully positioned Jolie between them when they sat down. The green-eyed monster which had stirred when he was introduced to Steve subsided and a warm glow spread inside him.
There was hope.
Chapter Nineteen
A sob escaped Sibell as she undressed in her little chamber at home, folding her best gown carefully and putting it in the chest at the foot of her bed. Roger hadn’t kept his promise and she was back at Ashleigh without having exchanged so much as one word with him.
In all fairness, Sibell didn’t know how he could have managed it. Her father hadn’t let her out of his sight all evening, even going so far as to send one of her brothers to stand guard over her when she went to the privy.
‘Rotten swine,’ she murmured. They were all in it together. Her brothers knew there would be rewards for them if they helped to marry her off safely to Sir Fulke. ‘Curse the lot of them!’ She kicked her shoes out of the way and they hit the wall with a satisfying thump.
Too angry to sleep, Sibell tossed and turned on the narrow bed for ages, listening to the loud snores emanating from the next room, where her brothers slept. All was quiet in the hall below, which housed everyone else except her father. He slept alone in the solar at the other end of the hall in a magnificent four-poster bed, big enough for at least four people. Tonight he’d had to be carried in, too drunk to walk. Sibell hoped his head would be extremely sore in the morning. If he asked her for a tisane to help him cure it, she vowed to make him some foul concoction that would make it worse instead.
At first she didn’t hear the faint scratching noise, but when it grew louder she sat up in bed and peered into the darkness. It sounded as if it was coming from the window and she padded over on bare feet to have a look. She opened the casement and barely had time to draw in her breath before she heard a muted ‘Shhh!’ Her heart stopped beating until she realised who was outside.
Roger manoeuvred himself in through the window with some difficulty, only just managing to squeeze his large frame into the narrow opening.
‘Roger, have you taken leave of your senses?’ she breathed, terrified he might wake her brothers.
He smiled in the faint moonlight and took her into his arms. ‘No, sweeting, but I made you a promise and I always keep my promises.’ He kissed her to stop any further protests and all thoughts flew out of her head as she melted into his embrace.
Her joy knew no bounds. He had come after all and suddenly everything was right with the world. Her family was forgotten, as was her anger. Roger would somehow protect her and save her from Sir Fulke and there would be nothing anyone could do about it. Her faith in him was absolute. She hugged him tightly and revelled in the feel of him, so solid, so strong.
His kisses were gentle at first, in the way she had come to expect from him, but soon they became more demanding. Sibell wasn’t alarmed and followed his lead without hesitation. A delicious warmth spread through her, right down to her toes, and there was a fire building within her which couldn’t be quenched by anyone other than him.
When a while later he lay down next to her on the bed, she made no objections, nor when his questing fingers undressed her. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to give herself to this man, who in a few short weeks had become so precious to her. His caresses awakened longings within her that she had never known existed. She wanted him, as she had never wanted her husband, with an intensity that was almost painful. Roland had been a fumbling boy, whereas Roger was a man. She soon found out the difference it could make as a whole new world was opened up to her. When he guided her to the final shattering explosion he took her cry of pleasure into his mouth. Even if her brothers had been wide awake, they would have heard nothing.
By morning he was gone and only the scent of him remained. Sibell inhaled it and smiled, restraining the urge to sing. Her whole body felt vibrant and alive as never before. She had no regrets.