Never Too Late (28 page)

Molly silently sipped her tea, but the hot liquid did nothing to calm the churn of feelings inside her.

“Though I won’t deny it’s a darn sight better for everyone if you own this house, Molly. Some of those city folk who came with Jake on Saturday, they’d leave you shuddering in your grave. Not a precious clue among any of them how to live in a village and be a proper part of it.”

An image of Elka Blom and her disdainful smile flashed up in Molly’s mind and she put her mug down with a thump. “Nan, do you really want to stay here at Barrowdene?”

Nan sighed. “It was your grandad’s life. Wherever I go, it feels like a part of him is here. Of course I’d live out my days here if I could.”

Molly nodded. It was Nan’s one wish, and now it was in her power to grant it. “Don’t worry, Nan. I’ll do what’s right for us.”

“Remember Molly,” Nan said with a smile. “It’s not Barrowdene that’s important. I will always stay in Appleby because your grandad and dad are buried here. That’s my fate, and I chose it. But your fate is for you to choose. Just don’t let fear do the choosing for you.”

* * *

Jake swam to the far edge of the heated pool and leaning on it, stared at the night city below. Monte Carlo glowed like a dark basket of bright orange and yellow lights, with roads slicing through the middle like ceaseless rivers of white headlamps. Beyond the city, the dark curving waters of Port Hercule reflected the neon blue and purple underwater lights of yachts decked out for onboard parties. The nightlife was in full swing, but this high up, he was completely cut off from the noise and hubbub. 

This was the solitude he’d craved and the reason he’d booked the penthouse suite, but four days on and restlessness still held him in its vise-like grip.

He kicked away from the edge and swam back slowly. Monaco should have reset his focus. His days on the hotel project were busy enough, but the endless nights saw him tossing and turning, a fathomless craving in his groin, and aching loss in his heart. He struck out with greater force over the last few metres. He had to rid himself of this mindless need. Maybe it was time to hit the town. There was never a shortage of eager partners out there.

Gripping the pool edge, he hauled himself out. The night air was mild on his wet skin, and grabbing a thick towel from the rail, he dried himself, and raked quick fingers through his damp hair.

The patio doors slid open with barely a sound and a white-haired man in a smart butler’s suit came out. He picked up the white towelling robe Jake had earlier discarded on one of the padded pool chairs and held it ready. 

“Merci, Arnaud,” Jake said, shrugging into it.

Arnaud smiled and inclined his head before leading the way to the patio doors and waiting for Jake to step through into the elegant grey and white interior. “There is a lady, Monsieur Hennessy, wishing to see you,” he said once they were inside.

Jake paused, one familiar face immediate in his mind. But it couldn’t be. “Her name?”

“Mademoiselle Perrot.”

Lilayni. 

Disappointment dragged at his heart, but he swept it aside, irritated. He would get a grip on this. The more important question right now was why Lilayni was here. “Let her up, Arnaud.”

With a nod, Arnaud left, and Jake strode to the bar to pour himself a whiskey. He’d taken his first sip of the warming golden liquid when Lilayni entered, dressed for travel in casual beige trousers and a flowing blue tunic top, and pulling a wheeled cabin bag behind her.

“Cheri, you are looking well.” She left her bag at the door and caught him up in an enthusiastic hug which he promptly returned.

“You too, Lilayni, but what are you doing in Monaco?”

She stepped back with a laugh. “You think I should not visit my cousin?”

“That you should.” He looked pointedly at her cabin bag. “And you’re welcome to stay.”

“It is not necessary. I fly to New York tonight.”

His brows rose. “Damon?”

“Oui.” She tucked a strand of loose red hair behind her ears and smiled wryly. “I love him, and I go to tell him, whether he wishes to hear or not.”

Jake nodded. It had been hard this past month to watch the two people he cared so deeply about fall apart from each other. It had something to do with Sienna’s death, of that he was sure, but neither Damon nor Lilayni would tell him. They probably thought they were protecting him from things he’d rather not know, but he wanted nothing more than their happiness. Hopefully Lilayni would be able to make Damon see sense. 

He held up his whiskey glass. “A drink to your courage?”

“Whiskey? Non.”

With a smile, he returned to the bar and pulling a bottle from the wine rack, checked its label, then opening it, poured the deep-red liquid into a wine glass and handed it to her. “Chateau Latour. Just as you like it.”

She swirled the wine and sniffed it appreciatively before taking a sip. “Ah, it is the good taste of home.” She regarded him for a moment. “I had another reason for seeing you.”

Taking a sip of his whiskey, he indicated for her to precede him to the sitting area. “And that is?”

“You,” she said, lowering herself elegantly on to one of the grey wool couches. “You are holding on to old ghosts.”

“If you mean Sienna…” He frowned and took the identical couch opposite her.

She nodded. “And allowing vultures to circle.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Elka is here in Monte Carlo. Did you know?”

“Is she?” He took another slow sip, his expression a blank, not giving away the fact that he already knew.

Lilayni sat forward, her eyes earnest. “There is a reason her husband left you and Damon in charge of his property. He did not trust her. And now she looks at you to take his place in her life.”

“Lilayni, we manage those assets with Elka’s permission. She herself acknowledges she would be lost on her own. That doesn’t make her untrustworthy. And my relationship with her isn’t open for discussion.” He looked at her pointedly. “Is this why you came all the way here? To warn me?”

She glared at him, exasperated. “This is the problem! You are too ready to trust any woman who shows you big tears, but when one returns to you honesty, you run.”

“I can always expect honesty from you, Lilayni,” he said with a smirk. “And I’m not running.”

“Oh! I did not mean me. But you will get your honesty. And then you can throw me out. I will not care. But before I go, we will talk. Why did you leave Molly?”

Irritation swept through him and he sat back, resting his glass on the couch arm. “You’re assuming there was something there to leave.”

“I have eyes in my head. I can see. You were happy with her.”

His grip on the glass tightened, and he willed his fingers to relax. “Then your eyes were deceiving you. You don’t have to feel sorry for her. Molly is more than capable of seeing to her own needs.”

“Non, I feel sorry for you,” she said with a sad smile. “Now you tell the truth. It was fear, non? You think Molly will end like Sienna.”

“That’s enough!” All the pent-up rage of the last few days surged through him and he leaped to his feet, almost spilling the whiskey in his hand. He stalked away to stare out of the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the twinkling night city. “I thought Molly to be an innocent. I didn’t want her hurt…” he bit back the rest of his words.

“You thought Sienna innocent too,” Lilayni said quietly, coming to stand beside him. “But she made her choices, and you could do nothing for her.”

“I could have protected her better.”

“From herself?” Lilayni shook her head. “You did not truly know her. She used you. The life you offered by your side, it was too boring. She wanted fame, all the lights on her. Molly is not that.”

He bowed his head. In the end he hadn’t been under any illusion as to what Sienna wanted, but was Molly really any different? Did women ever offer love without conditions? At least in Molly’s case, he’d seen it early. Wasn’t Barrowdene what she’d really wanted? 

“I am not Molly’s keeper, nor do I need her.” He shot Lilayni a direct look. “And right now, I don’t need anyone.”

A knowing smile curved her lips. “You cannot wish away love, cheri. I tried and failed.” She sauntered back to the sitting area and placed her wine glass down on the coffee table. “When you choose not to be alone anymore, come find your friends.” And with a smile she left.

Jake turned back to the window and the uncaring city below, the whiskey he sipped unable to wash away the niggling feeling that she was right.

Molly stared at herself in the mirror. The woman staring back was paler than usual, her nervous blue-white eyes huge in her face, and her usually crazy frizzy hair now a smooth tumble of light golden curls artfully framing her face and flowing down her back. 

She bit her lip, still unable to recognize herself a week on. This was Francine’s doing. No sooner had Molly set foot in London, than Francine had whisked her off for a big city pampering session. A manicure, pedicure, spa massage, and hours-long hairstyling session later, this was the result. She looked beautiful and sophisticated, as if she belonged in places like this first class airport lounge she stood in now on a Friday evening. But that was a huge lie.

She looked around herself in disbelief. Even the washrooms here were out-of-this-world luxury, with individual bathroom cubicles complete with shower, white marble basins, gold trimming, and a vase of large red roses beneath the mirror. When she’d called Lilayni for help, she hadn’t been expecting all this.

Rummaging in her purse, she pulled out a tube of pink lipgloss and slicked it on her lips. Better. At least the touch of colour banished the pale waif look from her face, but it did nothing to bring the spark of confidence to her eyes she desperately needed. What would Jake think of her like this? He’d always liked her wild hair… She frowned at her reflection. It didn’t matter what Jake liked. That wasn’t why she was here. 

She straightened the sweetheart bodice of her turquoise dress and ran her hands over the mermaid-style skirt that hugged her hips. The silky material clung less than she remembered and the lace three-quarter sleeves were looser. Had she lost weight? It wouldn’t be surprising. In the ten days since Martin and Francine had visited her at Barrowdene so much had happened, and she’d barely stood still. She’d taken up Martin’s offer of work and this past week had seen her single-handedly reorganizing his chaotic London office and taking on even greater responsibilities for him. She’d even picked up evening class brochures for a certificate in Historic Building Conservation. It was as if she’d finally found confidence in herself, and it was Jake who had helped her find it. Life had a destination now, but she still had this one last chapter to close before she could move on, heart intact.

She frowned at herself in the mirror again. Maybe this dress hadn’t been a good idea. She’d have happily gone in her jeans and coat, but Lilayni had insisted she needed to look the part, be stunning, if she was going to blag her way through. Apparently, they didn’t let any old riffraff into Chateau Blanc, and this was as close to stunning as she owned. 

Opening her small pull-along navy case that was on the marble counter top, she took out the turquoise heels that matched the dress, and slipping off her black ballet flats, swapped them for the heels. Instantly she stood inches taller. She took an experimental step, but the unfamiliar heels wobbled precariously beneath her and she had to grab for the vanity. Just great. Now she had to make sure she didn’t break her neck before she managed to see Jake. Straightening, she took a few more steps. Her feet adjusted and within minutes she was walking smoothly up and down the narrow confines of the bathroom cubicle. She was ready.

She returned to the case and checked through it again, picking up the pocket-sized book of French phrases and placing it in the front compartment for easy access. She had little else in the case save for her cream fur-lined parka and the jeans and top she’d changed out of as soon as she’d entered this washroom cubicle. She didn’t need extra clothes. Her return flight was already booked and she’d be out of here later tonight. Pulling out the parka, she slipped it on over her dress. Chateau Blanc may have strict evening dress codes, but it was late September, and half past six in the evening at that, and she wasn’t going to freeze to death in the chilly outdoors, not until she reached that place at least. 

That was another thing. How exactly did she reach Chateau Blanc? It was a mountain resort half an hour from the airport. That was all she knew. 

She’d phoned Lilayni yesterday evening, to ask how she could get in touch with Jake and within hours Lilayni had emailed her a first class plane ticket to France with a note saying everything was arranged. 

And here she was. 

She shook her head for the umpteenth time at her own recklessness. She hadn’t even waited to think, hadn’t told Nan or Martin her plans, had packed up the few things she needed, stepped on an airplane for the first time in her life and flew out here to her mother’s country. She double-checked the case, making sure the carefully addressed package was still there, and then zipping up the case, placed it on its wheels on the floor. 

Nothing for it now but to see this through. 

The smartly dressed young woman at the first class lounge’s reception desk looked up from her computer screen as Molly approached. 

“Mademoiselle?” she asked with a professional smile.

Molly leaned against the tall dark wood desk, taking some of the weight off her high heels. “I need to get to Chateau Blanc. Could I book a taxi?”

The woman typed on her keyboard and checked her screen. She glanced up. “You are Mademoiselle King?”

“Yes… er… Oui.”

“Un moment, s’il vous plait.” She checked the screen again and then got to her feet with a smile. “Your car is waiting. I shall show you.”

Molly nodded dumbfounded. First class seats, and now a car. Lilayni had gone out of her way to help. It was a ray of comfort to know that someone was looking out for her in the uncertainty facing her. No way could she even think of backing out now.