Trust in Me (6 page)

***

Theo caught up with Rosie in the ancient kitchen – the room looked as though it had been badly updated at some time in the sixties and barely touched since. He winced as he sat down at the Formica topped table, but was quickly distracted by the sight of Rosie on her knees, rummaging in one of the cupboards. She emerged, triumphant with a food can in her hand.

She placed her free hand on her hip and stared up defiantly. “I can only offer you beans on toast for lunch.”

These days Theo’s meals were prepared by the finest chefs at his hotels. He hadn’t contemplated eating beans on toast since his impoverished childhood, but suddenly, no meal had ever seemed more tempting. “Sounds fine to me.”

She dished up with little fuss, putting a plate in front of him and another on the table for herself.

“Your sister isn’t joining us?”

Rosie shook her head. “She’s eating at a friend’s.”

He picked up his knife and fork and a blinding flash of intuition warned him she wasn’t being awkward in offering him such basic food. It wasn’t like him to make such an oversight, especially when it was obvious to anyone that she was living in a state of abject poverty. He should have been more sensitive to the fact she would be worried about the extra financial burden an uninvited guest would bring and he should have immediately put her mind at rest.

“I’ll provide the meals from now on,” he told her. “I don’t expect you to pay for my upkeep.”

The fleeting look of relief that crossed her pale face was unmistakeable and the very fact she didn’t argue told him all he needed to know.

They ate in companionable silence and when they were tidying away, Theo opened up the conversation, hoping to coax her into relaxing in his company. “You were going to tell me about you father?”

She made a production of laying the cutlery back in their drawer, obviously carefully considering her answer. “Dad was a working class lad made good,” she eventually shared. “He bought the manor when he was at the height of his fame, but by that time the band was squabbling over rights and royalties. They didn’t last at the top as long as they might have done. He married Mum shortly after his band imploded.”

“And your dad settled down to the life of a country gent?”

“Hardly.” Rosie wrinkled her nose. “Dad wasn’t the settling down sort. A wedding ring couldn’t curtail his extra-curricular activities.”

“He had an affair?”

She didn’t answer straight away and he thought he’d pushed too far. “Plural. He had affairs.” Rosie took the plates he handed over, her concentration on stacking them in the cupboard out of proportion to the difficulty of the task. “Legend has it he went off with one of the bridesmaids half way through the wedding reception. Neither of them was seen for two days.” Rosie gave a short, humourless laugh.

“Why did your mother stay with him?”

Rosie shrugged and slammed the cupboard door shut. “Guess we’ll never know the answer. If I’d married a man who did something like that I’d divorce him before the ink dried on the marriage certificate. That’s if I hadn’t murdered him first.”

“You didn’t get on with your father?”

***

Rosie thought briefly about the father she had adored. She’d loved him without question – still did – but she’d never quite understood why he’d behaved the way he had towards his wives and girlfriends. “Oh, I got on fine with him. But I didn’t condone his lifestyle. Even though they didn’t always get on, the rest of the band all moved to live on the estate which didn’t help. He had no incentive to be a grown up while his childhood friends were encouraging him to live on the wild side.”

Why was she revealing so much to this stranger? Why was she confiding things to Theo she barely acknowledged to herself? Immediately, she stopped talking. She’d said more than enough already and shared more about herself than she’d ever want to do. She could feel his eyes on her and it seemed he could read her mind. And she was furious with him for it.

“What’s wrong, Rosie?” he asked softly.

“Nothing.” She stared at him through narrowed eyes. What had just happened? She didn’t understand. Theo Bradley had to be in cahoots with the devil – that was the only explanation. How else could he have tempted her to speak so freely?

Chapter Six

“I know you’ll never control that lot who live in the cottages, but I thought you’d put an end to shenanigans up at the manor at least...” Miss Morris, the village shopkeeper didn’t mince her words as she cast a beady eye towards Rosie’s uninvited guest.

Rosie was appalled. “There are no shenanigans at the manor, I can assure you.”

“Hmm.” Miss Morris made a song and dance of glancing meaningfully over at Theo again before turning her attention to packing groceries into shopping bags. “If you say so.”

Rosie could feel her colour rising and glared at Theo with her best look-what-you’ve-done-now expression firmly in place. Infuriatingly, he didn’t seem in the least concerned. Definitely not a gentleman or he would have backed her up. Instead, as she watched, he shrugged a shoulder and she could have sworn he was suppressing a grin. She grabbed a carrier bag and left the shop with as much dignity as she could muster.

“Why did you let her get to you?” Theo asked as they stowed the shopping in the boot of his car.

Could he really be that dense? Rosie closed her eyes and counted to ten. “This is a small community and there’s already been enough gossip about my family.”

She had no doubt there would be more after today. Miss Morris was a fast worker and a word in her ear was more effective than taking out a full page ad in one of the Sunday papers.

***

Theo shook his head. Rosie Farnham was a mass of contradictions – on the one hand, she was about as prickly as a hedgehog and overflowing with don’t give a damn vibes and yet, on the other, she was obviously mortified by the prospect of a scandal... “There are worse things than gossip.”

“And you’re speaking from experience?”

“You learn not to care – to grow a thick skin.”

She shuddered visibly. “There’s not just me to consider,” she told him quietly. “Evie’s at an impressionable age.”

There was more to it, Theo was sure. But the journey back to the manor would take only a few minutes, not enough time to get to the bottom of the matter. No worries, there’d be many opportunities over the next few days to find out exactly what was going on in Rosie Farnham’s head.

He powered the engine and turned the car back towards the estate. Rather disconcertingly, it already felt like he was going home. He decided to ignore the feeling and pressed his foot onto the accelerator.

While there wasn’t time for in depth probing, the journey would take a good few minutes where he could try to come to grips with the complicated family tree.

“How long ago did you lose your mother?” He glanced across in time to see Rosie bite her lip and wondered if, perhaps, he’d been tactless.

“She died giving birth to me,” Rosie answered after a moment. “I never got the chance to get to know her, but I still miss her.”

“What about Harry’s and Evie’s mothers?”

“Harry’s mother’s still alive – but she, understandably, didn’t have any time for me or Evie. Dad left them when Harry was a baby and I think she’s still bitter. Evie’s mother, Glory, disappeared shortly after Evie was born and we haven’t seen her since.”

Theo drew the car up in front of the manor and glanced over to see Rosie’s green eyes swimming with unshed tears and something in his gut twisted. He was furious with himself. Only a complete idiot would have interrogated her with so little sensitivity.

He was overwhelmed by a yearning to take her in his arms, to kiss away her tears to promise her everything would be fine. He guessed she wouldn’t thank him for it, though. In all honestly, he wouldn’t thank himself, either – he’d never been fond of rescuing damsels in distress. He much preferred his women to be self-sufficient, especially emotionally. But something about Rosie made him behave in all sorts of strange ways.

***

Rosie threw the cash book down onto the desk. The task in hand was proving impossible.

She’d asked George to show Theo around the estate so she could go over the books without his very disturbing presence. Not that she’d put it in those terms – she did have the ability to be tactful when needed. She wanted everything to be in order. No, she
needed
everything to be in order. If she had any hope of persuading Theo that she’d be an asset as an employee, she had to impress on him how efficiently she’d run the estate. But however hard she tried she just couldn’t focus.

Shame burned her cheeks and she cringed inwardly as she tried to forget Miss Morris’s less than subtle insinuations at the shop earlier.

Theo had insisted on accompanying her – wanted to see something of the village, he’d said. And, heaven help her, she’d had to let him pay for the groceries. Rosie hated to think what message that had given out. By now, Miss Morris had probably told the entire village that Rosie Farnham was a kept woman.

It might not have been so bad if he’d allowed her to drive in the estate’s old Land Rover, as she normally would have done. But he’d insisted on taking her in his flashy black boy toy car. It was sleek and expensive looking – just like him. Nothing could have drawn more attention in such a small community.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have found the experience so shaming if she was entirely innocent, but the way she’d stared at Theo yesterday had been bordering on obscene. Her cheeks burned even hotter. And he’d known – no way could he have missed it. Heaven help her, she’d been ogling him, she realised with distaste. Since Theo’s appearance she’d behaved in all sorts of strange ways. Who knew physical attraction could elicit such a strong reaction?

She only knew one thing with absolute certainty: It had to stop. She wanted a working relationship with Theo, a professional arrangement whereby she would run the estate for him and he’d allow herself and Evie to stay and in return. On no account could she contemplate using feminine wiles to get her own way – she wasn’t and never had been that sort of woman.

So what should she do?

Helplessly, she punched her brother’s number into the phone again. Although it was mid afternoon, she knew Harry would consider it an unearthly hour – Harry had turned nocturnal and tended to party until dawn. But she didn’t care how annoyed he’d be if she woke him. She listened hopefully for the requisite number of rings, but there was no real surprise when the answering machine kicked in.

“Harry, this is Rosie. I need to speak to you urgently. Phone me back, please.” Would he bother to call her back this time? Probably not. That lack of expectation weighed heavily on her as she turned back to the papers on the desk in front of her.

She frowned, unable to concentrate on the facts and figures as a sense of utter desolation engulfed her. The estate was the only life she’d known. How would she earn a living when Theo became fed up of this cat and mouse game and exerted his right to have her thrown out? She needed to feed and clothe Evie and keep a roof over their heads.

In addition, Evie had been distraught the one time Rosie had broached the subject of moving on. She’d pleaded and cried, explained that this was where her mother would look for her. A good few years had passed since then, but Rosie still recalled her sister’s utter devastation and that was why she’d battled so hard to keep things together.

Evie’s ties to the place were even stronger now – the donkey sanctuary she’d set up meant the world to her. She hoped, eventually, to have it declared a charity and that volunteers would continue with the work when she went to university.

With a desperate sob, Rosie buried her face in her hands.

“Rosie?” a very male voice broke into her despair.

She snapped around to face him with such speed she cricked her neck. “How long have you been there?” She rubbed furiously at her eyes, mortified that he’d caught her at such a vulnerable moment.

“Long enough.” He gave a half smile that might have been an apology and, despite her upset, Rosie’s stomach fluttered.

“I can’t believe you don’t have better things to do than to sneak up on people.”

“I did not sneak. I never sneak.”

“If you say so.” She sniffed and turned huffily back towards her work. Trust him to catch her crying. And she was sure her nose must be red. Noisily, she shuffled some of the papers on her desk. If she’d found it hard to concentrate with just the memory of Theo Bradley to keep her company, then the task would prove well nigh impossible with the man himself in the same room. Infuriatingly, the warmth of a blush creep across her skin, turning her face as red as her nose must be. “I have work to do,” she told him primly.

“Rosie.” He sighed softly. “You don’t need to do anything. I have a team who’ll take care of it.”

Her shoulders slumped in utter defeat. There was no mistaking his message – she had no rights in this office anymore. Bradley International Investments would appoint members of its own staff to oversee matters. Rosie was redundant. “You don’t even know the extent of the overdraft.”

He seemed unconcerned and shrugged a broad shoulder – the action drew her attention to his body. Although he was casually dressed, the overall effect so effortlessly elegant that Rosie had no doubt his outfit was designer. In stark contrast to her own bargain basement clothing – not that she was knocking bargain basement, without such outlets she’d be forced to roam the streets starkers.

“I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be dealt with.” He stepped closer and Rosie’s heart thumped in her chest.

Really, this wasn’t fair. She was so not interested in him as a man – so why did her body refuse to listen?

“Rosie?” He sat back on his heels and took her hands in his, much as he’d done yesterday. And, again, she was assailed by the need to lean forward and brush her lips against his. With disgust, she pushed the thought to one side and concentrated, instead, on the fact this was the man who’d turned her life on its head. “You have nothing to worry about,” he promised softly. “I’ll take care of everything.”