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Authors: Anne Fraser / Lynne Marshall

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‘What about Lord Cavendish?’

‘He was distraught when Jonathan’s mother died. But his way of dealing with it was to throw himself into work. He couldn’t see that Jonathan needed him more than ever. Then six months after Jonathan’s mother died, Lord Cavendish returned from an overseas trip married to the second Lady Cavendish. That didn’t last too long. He
divorced the third wife a year or so ago, and now it looks as if he’s preparing to marry again.’

‘His fourth marriage?’ Rose couldn’t keep the shock from her voice. ‘Surely that’s a little excessive?’

‘Ah, well. He always did have an eye for the women.’ She moved her gaze back to the window and her eyes glistened. ‘I don’t think he’s ever got over the first Lady Cavendish. Now, she was a real lady. Not in the sense of being from aristocracy, you understand, her own background was quite humble, but in terms of knowing how to treat people.’ She pointed a gnarled finger to the floor. ‘That woman will never compete in a hundred years.’

There was a tap at the door and Jonathan walked into the room. With a guilty start, Rose realised she had been gossiping.

‘How’s my favourite girl, then?’ Jonathan said. ‘Has Rose managed to talk you into going to the hospital?’

Before Mary had a chance to protest, Rose interrupted smoothly. ‘I think Mary will agree to go to the hospital. She’s just a wee bit worried that your father will replace her while she’s away.’

It looked as if a thundercloud had descended on Jonathan’s face. ‘Whatever gave you that idea? I agree you could do with more help, but no one is thinking of replacing you. This house would fall down without you to look after it—and us. You’ve been here as long as I can remember. It’s your home, Mary. Don’t ever forget that.’

Mary looked relieved but then her mouth puckered. ‘But it’s not just to do with you, Master Jonathan, is it? At least, not for some time. Right now your father makes the decisions, and if he marries again, it’ll be the new Lady Cavendish’s wishes that take precedence.’

‘My father might have his faults, Mary, Lord knows, but he’ll never agree to replacing you.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I had no idea he was planning to marry again.’

‘Now, don’t you go saying anything,’ Mary protested. ‘It’s not official yet. At least, he’s not said as much. It’s just I heard his guest speaking on the phone. She was telling them not to make plans for the summer because she was planning a big party.’

Jonathan’s lips thinned. ‘You leave my father to me, Mary. Come on, I’m going to drive you to the hospital. They’re expecting us. If you want to get a few things together, I’ll let my father know what’s happening.’ He turned to Rose. ‘I can’t apologise enough, but there’s only room in my car for Mary and I. If I ask my father to take you to the railway station, would you manage to find your own way home from there?’

‘Of course. Really, it’s no problem.’ She smiled. ‘It’s far more important that Mary gets investigated, and the sooner the better.’ She got to her feet. ‘We’ll leave you alone to pack your things, Mary. Take your time. There’s no rush.’

Jonathan still looked livid when they left Mary. ‘I need to go and find my father. It shouldn’t take too long. Would you like to wait downstairs?’

‘I think I’ll take a stroll in the garden while I’m waiting. And if it’s inconvenient for your father to take me to the station, perhaps you can call me a taxi?’

‘He’ll take you,’ Jonathan responded grimly. ‘One thing you can say about my father is that his manners are impeccable.’

The grounds of the hall were as lavish as the inside. Rose kept close to the house in case she was needed. To her right,
a small rose-coloured archway invited her to explore. She dipped her head and entered a small hidden garden. She gasped with pleasure. Someone had taken the time to make this little spot less formal than the rest of the gardens. It was a mass of flowers and the smell of rosemary, lavender and mint drifted up her nostrils. Seeing a bench with views out to the open hills off to one side, Rose took a seat and closed her eyes.

Something was badly wrong between Jonathan and his father. She wondered if he’d have taken her to the house, or even to the gatehouse, if he’d known his father was at home. Somehow she felt sure he wouldn’t have. How could someone not get on with their father? Especially when he was the only family member Jonathan had left. Rose couldn’t remember ever having cross words with her parents.

She was beginning to realise that Jonathan was a much more complex man than she had ever imagined and she knew that every moment she spent with him she was falling deeper and deeper in love. The realisation was not a welcome one.

Voices drifted from the open window behind her. She recognised Jonathan’s and his father’s. Both men sounded heated.

‘How can you think of marrying yet again?’ Jonathan’s voice was raised.

‘What I choose to do with my life is none of your goddamn business. And speaking of marriage, when are you going to stop seducing every woman on the planet and get into a real relationship? You can’t carry on the way you do for the rest of your life. At some point you’re going to accept you have responsibilities.’

‘That’s rich, coming from you.’

Rose got to her feet. The last thing she wanted was to overhear the argument between father and son. She started to edge away from the window.

‘What about that prissy little thing you brought with you? She looks like she has a sensible head. Why, for God’s sake, can’t you find someone like her to settle down with?’

Rose froze in mid-stride. This was so embarrassing. How dare Lord Cavendish refer to her as prissy? Even if she supposed there was an element of truth in the description. But she had to admit she was dying to know how Jonathan would respond.

‘Rose? As the future Lady Cavendish?’ Jonathan laughed harshly. ‘Now you mention it, she’d be a lot more suitable than the last two
you
chose to marry. At least she has brains and a kind heart under that prissy exterior, as you call it. I can tell you she’s worth a hundred of the women you married after Mother.’

Lord Cavendish dropped his voice and Rose could hear the sadness and regret in it. ‘Why are we always arguing, son? You know I need your help. I’m not getting any younger and running my businesses as well as this estate is getting too much.’

‘Are you all right? You’ve not being feeling ill, have you? When did you last have a check-up?’ This time it was Jonathan’s voice that was full of concern. Despite their earlier angry words, Rose could tell the two men cared about one another.

‘I’m fine. I promise. I’d feel a lot better if I knew that you were settling down. You can’t keep on living the way you do. God, man, your name is in the paper every other day. Always with a different woman. You need to get
married—have children. I need to know before I die that there is going to be someone to carry on the family line.’

‘You’re a fine person to talk.’ The anger was back in Jonathan’s voice. ‘Is that why you married Mother? Just to provide an heir for the future? My God, didn’t you love her at all?’

‘Love her? Of course I loved her. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.’

‘Which is why you married again within six months of her death.’

Rose couldn’t bear to hear any more. She tiptoed away until she could no longer hear the voices and waited by the front door of the house. She was tingling as she recalled the words Jonathan had used to describe her. Kind and clever. Well, she hoped she was. But she would have liked to hear herself described as beautiful and sexy as well, even if it was untrue. This way she felt like Jonathan’s sister and that wasn’t how she wanted him to see her at all. She wanted someone to find her exciting and interesting. She wanted
Jonathan
to find her exciting and interesting. If she didn’t have a future, she wanted a here and now. And why not? Where had playing safe got her? She felt her blood heat her veins. Prissy. She’d give them prissy. She could be as exciting and interesting as the next woman and with a bit of help—possibly a lot of help—she could do sexy as well. It was as if she’d been sleeping up until the moment she’d realised her life could be snatched away at any time. Now she wanted to wake up and experience life before it was too late. And who better to show her that life than Jonathan Cavendish? After all, it wasn’t as if she could break his heart.

Chapter Seven

‘I
CAN’T
wait for it! Do you think there’ll be loads of celebrities there?’ Jenny was practically bouncing out of her chair with excitement. Jonathan had informed everyone that he was taking a table at the annual fundraising ball and they were all invited. It had been on the tip of Rose’s tongue to refuse, but instead she had found herself agreeing. What harm could it do? And it was one more thing to add to her list. Besides, it was another opportunity to be with Jonathan outside work and although she knew she was storing up heartache for the future, she couldn’t bring herself to deny herself a moment of him.

‘I get the feeling there will be one or two.’ Rose had to smile at Jenny’s enthusiasm.

‘We’ll have to go shopping for something to wear,’ Jenny said. ‘And you’ll have to go to the hairdresser.’ She pulled out her mobile. ‘You must go to mine. He’s fantastic. He’ll know exactly what to do with your hair.’

‘What’s wrong with my hair?’ Rose protested. She eyed her colleague doubtfully, recalling the spiky hairdo she usually sported outside her job. If Jenny thought she was going to go punk, she had another think coming.

Jenny looked at Rose thoughtfully. ‘I would die for hair
like yours. It’s just a little old-fashioned, you know. It could do with an update. In fact, and I don’t mean to be rude or anything, the whole of you could do with an update.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘That cardigan you’re so fond of wearing, for example. That has to go.’

‘Hey, there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s warm and comfortable,’ Rose protested.

‘And makes it seem as if you’re wearing a sack. Come on, Rose. You don’t want to look like someone’s maiden aunt. Not when all those glamorous people are going to be there.’ She held up her hand, cutting Rose’s protests off. ‘You will not let the side down. I simply won’t allow it.’

Dowdy? Someone’s maiden aunt? Now she had two more derogatory adjectives to add to the steadily growing list. Up until recently nobody had ever complained about the way she looked. Or complimented her either, she had to admit. But she hadn’t minded. Hadn’t she always told herself that external appearances weren’t important? But this was the new Rose, she reminded herself. The one who was determined to break out of her shell. Hadn’t she promised herself to try different things? And if that included a new image, so be it.

By Saturday afternoon, Rose had been done to within an inch of her life. Jenny’s hairdresser had cut her hair into a sharp modern style while keeping it long. He had parted it to one side and now it fell over one side of her face. If she had to keep blowing out little puffs of hair so she could see what she was doing—as Jenny had said, what did it matter if she looked chic and alluring? But the hair over her eyes wasn’t the only thing obscuring her vision. Jenny had insisted that no way was she allowed to wear her glasses.
She had marched her to the optician and Rose was now trying contact lenses. She finally managed to get them in and blinked furiously as water streamed from her eyes. She’d give them until she had to apply her make-up and if they hadn’t settled it was on with the glasses. The last thing she needed was to turn up looking like she had spent the day crying.

She and Jenny had been shopping for a dress and eventually, after what had seemed like hours of tramping around London, had settled on a silky, two-tone red number that shimmered as Rose walked.

‘Wow! I had no idea you had a figure like that underneath those dreadful clothes you insist on wearing,’ Jenny had said. ‘I could diet for a year and still not have a body like that. Why on earth do you cover it up?’

‘I’m too thin,’ Rose had said. ‘I hate the way my bones stick out all over the place. They used to call me pin legs when I was in school. Someone even accused me of being anorexic.’ The memory brought painful feelings flooding back. At school she had been teased for being too thin and she had never lost that gawky, unattractive feeling. Now all the worries and anxieties about the way she looked seemed so petty and pointless. And Jenny was right. The dress did amazing things to her figure. The way it hung, the way it moved when she moved. For the first time in her life, Rose felt glamorous.

‘And don’t even think you’re going to get out of buying new underwear,’ Jenny had said. ‘Are these mum pants or what?’

‘There is nothing wrong with my underwear,’ Rose protested. ‘Okay, they might be serviceable rather than sexy, but who is going to see?’

‘Seeing, as you put it, isn’t really the point. At least not
all of it. If you don’t feel sexy under your clothes, how are you going to look sexy?’

Rose had to laugh. She let Jenny steer her to the lingerie department and allowed her to bully her into buying several lacy bras with matching panties. Rose dreaded to think what her credit-card bill was going to be like. But she had to admit she had plenty money in the bank and it was fun. It was the first time she could remember that she had spent so much money on herself. After all, she reminded herself with a stab, who knew if she would ever have the opportunity to dress up like this again? And right now saving her pennies for a rainy day seemed like an exercise in futility. One thing her illness had done was to free her from the small pointless worries of everyday life.

As she finished putting the finishing touches to her makeup, almost the way the girl at the cosmetics counter had shown her, she had to admit that now she was as far away from prissy as it was possible to be. She giggled. All she needed was a cigarette holder in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, and she’d look like Mata Hari, even though she didn’t smoke. And while the contacts had settled, she was sure the famous seductress hadn’t blinked quite so often.

She sashayed down the stairs, revelling in the feel of the soft fabric of her dress against her skin.

Her father glanced up when she entered the sitting room and attempted a wolf whistle.

‘Can this really be my little girl?’ he said, his eyes glistening. ‘So grown up and so beautiful?’

Over the last couple of weeks his condition had continued to improve. He was getting about fairly easily with one stick and his speech was less slurred. He was able to manage more of the activities of daily living by himself,
even if it still took him twice as long as it used to. Being more independent had cheered him up enormously and Rose knew that soon her parents would be able to cope without her. It lifted some of the burden from her shoulders when she thought about what the future could bring—for them as well as her.

‘Yes, Dad. I know it’s hard to believe.’ She whirled around. ‘I find it hard to believe too.’

‘I’ve never seen you so lit up,’ her mother said quietly. ‘Is it just the night out or is there another reason why you’re glowing inside and out?’ Rose had made sure her mother didn’t see her torment and worry. Around her mother, she forced herself to think only about things that made her happy. Like Jonathan.

He had insisted on sending a car for her. She had tried to protest, saying she’d be quite happy to take the tube, but he had been adamant.

‘You and the rest of the gang are my guests. There is no way I’m going to let you arrive on foot.’ He had smiled down at her and her heart banged against her ribs. ‘Just give in gracefully, kid. For once.’

But she hadn’t expected to find him at her door. He looked jaw-droppingly handsome in his dinner suit and bow-tie. When he saw her, he looked taken aback. He bowed briefly from the waist. Then he whistled. ‘You look absolutely stunning,’ he said. ‘Have you had your hair cut? It suits you.’ Rose felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. Perhaps he was just being polite, but the look in his eyes told her he meant ever word.

‘You don’t look so bad yourself,’ she quipped.

‘I’ll just wish your parents good evening,’ Jonathan said, stepping inside the small hallway. He was so close she
could smell the faint scent of his shampoo and the familiar spice of his aftershave. He touched her briefly on her shoulder and a shiver ran down her spine. ‘There are going to be a few women there tonight with their noses severely out of joint. You do know that, don’t you?’ His breath was like a caress on her skin.

After a few brief words with her parents, he ushered Rose out to the waiting car.

Inside the stretch limousine was an over-excited Jenny, as well as Vicki and her husband. It was another new experience for Rose. There were seats along one side as well as a small bar. Jonathan reached into the bar and brought out a chilled bottle of champagne, which he popped with a flourish. When everyone had their glasses filled he toasted them. ‘I hope you all have a great time tonight and remember it’s all for a good cause.’

‘I’m so glad you could manage,’ Rose said to Vicki after she had introduced her husband, Russell. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Much better. I don’t know how long I’ll last, but I couldn’t miss it. It’s my favourite night of the year. The one and only night I really get to let my hair down.’

Vicki, who had declined the champagne in favour of fresh orange juice, waved her glass at Jonathan. ‘Are you going to be auctioned as usual tonight?’

‘Not if I can help it,’ Jonathan replied. ‘I made a deal with the organisers this year. They’ve agreed I don’t have to take part as long as I match the highest bid for one of the other guests.’

‘Auctioned?’ Jenny said, sounding puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Every year at this do they ask some of the eligible
bachelors to agree to auction a date. They have to parade up and down a catwalk while women bid for a date with them. It can get quite heated. At least, it did last year,’ Vicki replied, grinning.

‘What happened?’

Jonathan was frowning at Vicki, shaking his head from side to side. But she wasn’t to be deterred.

‘It almost caused a riot. The organiser made Jonathan remove his jacket and shirt. He was allowed to leave his bow-tie on. Not that that gave him much to hide behind.’ Vicki chuckled. Jonathan was looking mortified.

Rose almost spluttered into her champagne. The image of a semi-naked Jonathan strolling down a catwalk was almost too much.

‘Who won?’ Jenny asked.

‘That was the best part. It was one of the elderly matrons. You should have seen her excitement when she learned her bid was the highest.’

Everyone, even Jonathan, laughed. ‘She actually bought the date for her daughter. I don’t know who was more embarrassed, her or me. Still, we had a pleasant enough meal. But I will never do that again. No way. Uhuh.’

By this time they were pulling up outside the hotel where the dinner-dance was to be held. Although the hotel was famous, Rose had never been inside before.

As they climbed out of the car, they were swarmed by photographers.

‘Look this way, Jonathan,’ they called out. She pulled back inside the car. She hadn’t expected this. There was no way she wanted to be photographed, even if it wasn’t her they were after.

But she had reckoned without Jonathan. As the rest of
the group made their way into the hotel, he jumped back into the car and pulled the door closed.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

‘I don’t want to go out there,’ Rose whispered. ‘I hate having my photograph taken.’

‘I don’t much like it either,’ Jonathan replied, ‘but the best way to cope with it is to pose for a couple of photographs and then walk away.’

‘I can’t.’ Rose shook her head.

‘Yes, you can,’ Jonathan said firmly. ‘They are going to want a picture of the amazingly beautiful woman who has arrived with me.’ He looked regretful. ‘I’m an idiot. If I had thought for one minute that you’d hate the attention, I would have arrived separately. But it’s too late now. The more you hide away, the more curious they’re going to be. There’s nothing else for it. We have to brave the lions in their den.’ He grinned. ‘Just follow my lead and it’ll be over in a few minutes. Okay?’

Rose nodded and, head held high, stepped out of the car. Once again, there was an explosion of blinding flashes.

‘Who is your lady friend, Jonathan? Is it serious? Are you settling down?’

Rose’s heart sank as she realised that her climbing back into the car had only made matters worse. Now they thought she was someone.

‘Hey, guys, give us a break.’ Jonathan kept his tone even. ‘Ms Taylor is just one of several guests I have with me this evening.’

‘Does this mean your relationship with Jessamine Goldsmith is over?’ another reporter asked.

‘Ms Goldsmith and I are good friends and have never been anything more.’

‘So there’s no truth that she dumped you because you refused to name the day?’

‘None at all. Now, if you’ll excuse us,’ Jonathan replied smoothly, ‘I have guests waiting inside.’

‘Could you tell us a bit about yourself, Ms Taylor?’ Another reporter thrust his microphone into Rose’s face and she almost stumbled. As quick as a flash, Jonathan reached out to steady her with one hand while with the other took hold of the microphone and pushed it away. ‘Just carry on walking,’ he said into her ear. ‘I’ll keep them busy.’

‘It’s okay,’ Rose replied, lifting her head again. ‘I can deal with this.’ She took a deep breath and turned to the journalists with the biggest smile she could manage. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t much to tell. I work with Dr Cavendish. I’m his practice nurse. As he’s told you, I’m one of a party of his staff. Now, I know that you are all interested in what this evening is in aid of. Perhaps you’d like me to bring you up to speed with the work of the charity?’

From the corner of her eye she saw the look of surprise on Jonathan’s face, followed by a look of approval. She had made a point of looking the charity up on the Internet during a quiet spell at the clinic. She carried on, inching her way towards the hotel door as she briefly outlined the work of the charity, making sure that she kept smiling. Fortunately it seemed to work. As soon as another car pulled up at the kerb, the reporters turned away to catch the new arrival.

Inside, Jonathan was immediately surrounded by people. Rose left him to greet his friends and acquaintances, and spying Jenny and Victoria from the corner of her eye went over to their table. Jenny’s eyes were alive with excitement.

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