Voice of the Heart (99 page)

The turquoise eyes pinned so intently on his were stretched wide with surprise. ‘What do you mean by
again
, Nicky?’

Her bewilderment registered with him at once, and he realized Katharine had most definitely been kept in the dark about Victor. His mind raced, and he improvised, ‘Once, when I was visiting her in Yorkshire, I got the impression she had met someone, but that it hadn’t worked out for her. Frankie seemed a bit hurt about it.’

‘What year was that?’ Katharine probed inquisitively.

‘Oh, er, let me see, I guess around 1959 or thereabouts,’ Nick lied, and lit a cigarette to gain time, to cover his own confusion.

‘No, you’re wrong,’ Katharine pronounced firmly. ‘I would have known, yes, I really would.’ Nodding her head with great confidence, she proceeded, ‘Frankie was too involved with
Sabres
to even lift her head up from the typewriter long enough to
see
any man, let alone become embroiled with one. Anyway, she would have told me, we don’t have any secrets between us.’

Not strictly true. Nick thought, but said, ‘Just like a man to make an assumption, isn’t it? I guess I was mistaken.’

Nodding again, Katharine remarked softly, ‘You know, Nicky, Ryan is a sweet person. He would never hurt Frankie, or anyone for that matter.’

‘Spoken like a devoted and loving sister,’ Nick teased.

‘Perhaps, but nevertheless, I am right about him. And look, it’s lovely of you to be protective of her, but don’t overdo it, don’t worry so much. You said yourself she was very mature. She’ll be able to handle the relationship.’ Katharine’s incomparable smile flashed, and she exclaimed with vivacity, ‘I hope they
do
have a romance. After all, Frankie’s never been in love before. I think it’s exciting, don’t you?’

Nick could only nod, but he returned her smile, tried to look pleased, despite his misgivings about Ryan O’Rourke.
He was also beginning to detect Katharine’s manipulative little hand in this situation. Although he had shed his hatred of her completely, had grown to like her immensely in the past three years, he nevertheless disapproved of her tendency to meddle. And he was fully aware of her infinitely complex and brilliant mind with its many subtleties. He was never quite sure what she was up to, or what schemes she was concocting.

Impulsively, he said, ‘I have a strong feeling you’ve been playing the matchmaker, my pet.’

Her lovely laughter tinkled around the yard. ‘Not really, Nicky. But sometimes people do need a little shove. Don’t you agree?’

‘Most definitely,’ he replied, and could not help thinking that a little shove, as she called it, was fine, providing it was in the right direction and
not
over the edge of a cliff. Then he made an effort to shake off his thoughts, admitted to himself that Francesca was capable of looking after herself. Another thought struck him and he began to chuckle.

‘What’s so amusing?’ Katharine asked.

‘Our group does have a penchant for getting involved in the most incestuous way! You were in love with Kim, now Frankie appears to have fallen for your baby brother, and—’

‘You were crazy about Diana,’ Katharine finished for him. ‘Quite a merry-go-round.’ She stood up, sauntered around the garden, touching the flowers lightly, and then she floated up to the sundial. After examining it for a few minutes, she lifted her dark head, asked, ‘Does this really work, Nicky, my darling?’

He glanced at her swiftly. ‘Yes,’ he said, and his voice was so quiet it was practically a whisper. He found he could not take his eyes off her, was mesmerized. The sun was pouring down, bathing her in a shimmering light, and she looked glorious, her vividness of colouring more spectacular than ever. Unaccountably, his throat tightened and it struck him
how young she seemed at this moment in the simple blue linen dress and low-heeled sandals. And she was so tiny and defenceless, and she seemed hardly to have aged a day in all the years he had known her. Unfamiliar emotions stirred within him, startled him with then intensity.

Katharine said, ‘You’re staring at me, Nicky. Is something wrong?’

‘Er, no, nothing’s wrong,’ he muttered, deciding everything was very very right. ‘I was only thinking how lovely you looked.’

‘Why thank you,’ she said sweetly, returning to the table.

Nick experienced a strange and sudden breathlessness: he leapt to his feet and loped over to the silver ice bucket, which he had placed under the tree to keep it cool. ‘How about another glass of wine?’

‘Yes, thanks, that would be nice.’ Katharine peeked at her watch. ‘I wonder what’s keeping Frankie and Ryan?’

‘I’m sure they’ll be here any minute,’ Nick replied, topping up their glasses. He sat down next to her, feeling light-headed, almost euphoric now, and he had to suppress the urge to take hold of her, to kiss her. He was conscious of her closeness, his nostrils filled with the perfume of her. Smiling hugely, he exclaimed, ‘I’m glad you’re in New York, Kathy. I know the play’s going to be a sure-fire hit. We’ll have some fun this fall.’

‘I hope you’re right… about the play I mean.’ Her eyes lingered on him. ‘And I’m happy to be here. You’ve been so sweet, and it’s lovely to be with Frankie. She’s a jewel, so loyal and devoted, and I adore her. I’m also thrilled she’s decided to live in the States.’

Nick’s forehead puckered. ‘Do you really think she means it? That she’s serious? After all, she’s got an awful lot of des in England.’

Katharine said emphatically, ‘Oh yes, I know she has. She told me she finds it easier to write about English historical figures here, because distance gives her a better sense of
perspective. And she has a marvellous contract with her American publishers, as well you know, for three more books. Besides, she’s crazy about New York, much prefers it to London.’ Katharine paused, took a sip of wine, dashed on gaily in a positive tone, ‘Of course she’ll be backwards and forwards to see her father, but she realizes he doesn’t need her quite so much any more, and hasn’t since he married Doris. He’s very engrossed in his new family, adores Marigold, and Doris has made him happy, has turned out to be a wonderful wife and mother.’

Nick’s mouth twitched. ‘I thought you didn’t like Doris very much. You’re being pretty generous about her,’ he laughed. ‘Why the sudden about-face?’

‘Oh it’s not so sudden,’ Katharine remarked cryptically. ‘Getting back to Frankie and her intentions. I don’t think she would have brought Lada over here if she hadn’t planned on staying. If she ever returned to England permanently she’d have to put her in quarantine for six months, and that would just about kill Frankie. She loves Lada like a child.’

Yes, Nick thought, because Vic gave her the dog. He nodded. ‘Of course, I’d forgotten about Lada for a minute. What’s Frankie going to do with our four-legged friend at Christmas? She mentioned she was going to Langley for two weeks in December—when we had lunch last week.’

‘Like you, Frankie believes the play will be a big hit, and I’ve promised to look after Lada for her. If the show closes, I’ll just stay on until she returns. I’ve no reason to hurry back to the Coast. Anyway, I rather fancy a Christmas in New York, and I’m hoping it snows so that it’ll be a real old-fashioned holiday,’ she finished, looking suddenly like a small excited child at the prospect of this.

Nick smiled at her. ‘Hey, that’s great news.’

Rising, Katharine strolled around the garden again, and paused near the fountain. ‘It’s so peaceful here, Nicky, and I am enjoying being with you, but I do wish Frankie and Ryan would arrive. I’m starving.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Usually you eat like a bird. I’ve made a terrific lunch. You’re going to have a real feast,’ he informed her jubilantly.

‘You cooked lunch?’ she giggled. ‘
You
. I can’t believe it!’

‘Of course I didn’t, you silly girl,’ he retorted. ‘You know I’m no culinary genius. I ran over to Zabar’s earlier and picked up lox, cream cheese and bagels, smoked white fish, herring in cream with sliced onions, plus kosher pickles, rye bread, chopped liver and a whole bunch of cold cuts. Enough to make your mouth water, isn’t it?’

She smiled and her eyes danced, and then, adopting a rolling gait, she ambled over to the table, remarking in a deep, gruff voice, ‘Sure does, old buddy, sounds like the whole enchilada to me.’

Nick cracked up. ‘And you sound like Katharine Tempest doing an imitation of Victor Mason doing an imitation of Katharine Tempest. The walk’s not bad though.’

‘
Grazie
, kid.’ She raised her glass to him, inclined her head, and asked, ‘By the way, have you heard from Victor? Or Jake? When are they coming back to the States?’

‘Vic called me last week from Morocco. They were about to wrap, so they should be in Paris by now, hitting L.A. in about ten days. From what he said, the shooting has been pretty gruelling. It’s damned hot in Marrakesh right now. A hundred degrees in the shade. But he sounded great, and delighted with the footage.’

‘I’m pleased it went well.
The Sabres of Passion
has been a pet project of his for the past year and it’s totally absorbed him.’ Katharine paused and peered at Nick, wrinkling her nose. ‘I can’t make Frankie out sometimes. She’s not a bit enthusiastic about the film, or even remotely interested in it. Imagine, having your first book bought for the movies, and for such an enormous amount of money, and then not caring about how it’s made, the finished product. Not only that, it’s quite a compliment to have you write the screenplay and Victor star in it. That would thrill most authors, and yet she’s
been singularly cool, almost cavalier about the whole thing. If I didn’t know her as well as I do, I’d say she was acting in a very blasé manner. I was flabbergasted when she didn’t want to be special consultant on the picture, weren’t you? Did she ever give you her reason for turning it down?’

Nick said nothing, merely shrugged, remembering the battles he had had with Francesca, who at first had refused to sell motion picture rights to Bellissima Productions. He had found himself doing a lot of fast talking, and Victor had kept raising the offer until it hit ceiling. Finally her exasperated, impatient and baffled literary agent had persuaded her to sell, pointing out that no other producer was battering down her door for the property and explaining that the price was the highest ever paid for a work of nonfiction. Perversity on her part, perseverance on Vic’s, Nick thought. But he did pay too much for the book. Guilt, perhaps? Or only the desire to be near her again?

He became aware that Katharine was waiting for a response, cleared his throat, said off-handedly, ‘She told me she wasn’t prepared to break off, to leave the new book on Richard III hanging fire, just to go to Morocco with the unit.’ And Victor Mason, he added to himself.

Katharine twiddled the stem of her glass. ‘I had the distinct impression she didn’t like the idea of Victor playing Chinese Gordon. I can’t imagine why, unless she felt he wasn’t good enough to portray her great British general, who became something of a hero to her. She had such an obsession about Gordon when she was writing.’ Katharine shrugged lightly. ‘Maybe she wanted an English actor for the part.’

Oh God, Katharine, if only you knew what you were saying, Nick thought. He drank a little of his wine, shook his head negatively. ‘I don’t know about that,’ he began, then broke off when the doorbell shrilled. ‘That’s Frankie and Ryan now. Don’t let’s stay on this subject, love, it only makes her huffy,’ Nick cautioned, striding towards the house.

‘Yes, I know,’ Katharine murmured and stared into her glass, wondering why this was so.

A second later, Francesca came into the garden, looking lovely in a white-and-pink cotton dress, and breathless and laughing, ‘Sorry we’re late, Kath,’ she apologized, going over to kiss her friend.

Katharine returned the embrace, smiled affectionately. She was overjoyed to see Francesca’s most transparent happiness, her glowing and radiant face. ‘That’s all right, my darling. Nick and I had a leisurely hour together chatting. Where’s Ryan?’

‘In the kitchen with Nicky, who’s making him a rum and coke of all things,’ Francesca replied and flopped into a chair.

‘Ugh!’ Katharine made a face. ‘My brother’s taste leaves a lot to be desired.’

‘I wouldn’t say that, Katie Mary,’ Ryan remarked from the doorway, his eyes automatically flying to Francesca. ‘I think I have terrific taste.’

‘Yes, you do,’ Katharine agreed with a little laugh. ‘When it comes to women. However, not when it comes to drinks. Why don’t you have a glass of wine like us civilized folk?’

‘This suits me just fine right now.’ Ryan, boyishly handsome in corduroys and a green checked cotton shirt, stepped outside. Bending over Katharine, he kissed her and said, ‘Sorry we were delayed. My fault. I had a call from Da.’

‘Oh.’ Katharine took one of Nick’s cigarettes, wishing Ryan would not persist in using his childish name for their father. ‘What did
he
want?’ she asked, after Ryan had given her a light. Her cold tone reflected her continuing and unalloyed antipathy for Patrick O’Rourke.

Ryan sat next to Francesca, placed his drink on the table and regarded his sister carefully. He said in a more subdued voice, ‘Nothing in particular, other than to check the time my plane gets into O’Hare tonight.’

Naturally. He can’t bear to have you out of his sight for
one minute, Katharine thought to herself. Aloud, she said, ‘It’s a six o’clock flight, if I remember correctly. You’d better take my limousine to the airport.’

‘Thanks, Katie, I’d sure appreciate it.’ He gazed at Francesca. ‘You’ll come with me, won’t you, honey?’

‘Of course, Ryan darling.’ Francesca returned his adoring look. ‘I’ll bring Lada too, if that’s all right.’

‘Sure, honey. Anything you say.’ He reached for her hand, took it in his, began to stroke it.

Nick hurried out with a bottle of white wine. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting, Beauty,’ he said to Francesca. Filling her glass, he handed it to her.

‘Thanks, Nicky,’ she said.

Dropping into a chair between Katharine and Francesca, Nick asked, ‘How’s the new book coming along, kid?’

‘Very well. I should be finished in about six months.’