The Second Bride (8 page)

'You're an unusual lady, Jo Fielding. Have another sandwich.' Rufus offered the platter, but she shook her head, wondering what he meant by 'unusual'.

'I'm sorry, Rufus, after you took the trouble to make them, but I'm really not hungry.'

'Because you're too damn tired to eat,' he said forcefully, and pushed the plate away. 'Do you have to work behind that bar so much?'

'Actually, I don't have to work there at all, if you mean from a financial point of view.'

He propped his elbows on the table and leaned his chin on his hands, eyeing her intently. 'Then your freelancing is actually profitable?'

'Profitable enough to feed me, certainly. But even if I get my book published I'll probably still put in an hour or two at the Mitre because I like the contact with other people.' She sobered abruptly. 'Unless fate conspires against me, of course.'

Rufus reached across the table and took her hand. 'Cross that bridge when you come to it, as my mother's fond of saying.'

'
So's
mine.' Jo managed a smile. 'How
is
your mother? I used to see her quite often at Claire's—I mean your place—the other house—'

'I know what you mean,' he said, amused. 'And my mother's very well. She's away with my father, walking in the
Trossachs
—part of her new health regime for him. Father's threatening to come out of retirement to get some peace.'

Jo chuckled. 'If your mother intends him to get fit he'd better resign himself to it first as last.'

'Exactly what I told him. Mother's a very determined lady. She likes you,' he added casually. 'She asked me quite recently how you were. I had to admit I didn't know. She gave me rather a tongue-lashing on the subject.'

'Goodness! Is that why you came to see me?' Jo's teasing smile faded as she met the look in Rufus' eyes.

'You know it wasn't. I came that night because you were the one person in the world I could talk to.' His eyes held hers. 'I never meant to do more than talk, Jo. You must believe that.'

She breathed in shakily, and removed her hand. 'Oh, I do. With no difficulty at all. I know perfectly
well I'm not your type—any more than you're mine.' Which was such a downright lie that she looked away hurriedly.

'What's "type" got to do with it? You're very attractive, Jo Fielding. More cerebral than Claire in one way, and yet a lot more earthy in another. And that's the last comparison I ever intend to make on the subject,' he added emphatically, and raised a sardonic eyebrow. 'I'm not alone in my opinion of your charms, am I? Earlier on, the prospective bridegroom forgot his approaching obligations when he saw you. He could hardly tear himself away from the bar all evening.'

Jo looked at him in surprise. 'I thought you'd gone.'

'I just went into the other bar and did the crossword. I could see you from where I sat.'

'You were checking up on me?' she said, scowling.

'No. Just making sure the drunken bridegroom gave you no real hassle.'

'What would you have done if he had?'

'Shown him the error of his ways.'

'I might have welcomed his attentions, for all you know.'

'I seriously doubt it.'

He was dead right on that score, thought Jo. With Rufus in the vicinity all other men paled into insignificance. She stood up, suddenly brisk. 'I really must go home. I'm not used to working every night. I'm tired.'

Rufus got up. 'Stay in bed as long as possible in the morning.'

'If I do that the newsagent will run out of my
favourite
Sunday paper,' she said, yawning as they went along the austerely elegant hall.

Rufus paused before opening the door. 'I'll buy it for you and bring it round after midday. Then you can lie in as long as you want.'

Jo was tempted. Then she remembered that all this attention from Rufus was for a very specific reason. 'That's very kind of you, but the shop doesn't open until ten. And that's quite long enough to stay in bed. Even on my day off.'

Rufus shrugged, and during the journey home told her about his brother's forthcoming wedding. 'My parents will be back long before then, of course. Mother bought her outfit ages ago, so she could wear it in the evenings at the hotel in Scotland.'

Jo laughed. 'Practical lady, your mother.'

'I've got a secret suspicion that only care for my feelings prevented her from attending Rory's wedding in the outfit bought for mine,' he said drily.

'Would you have minded if she had?'

'To be honest I can't remember it.'

Because he'd had eyes only for Claire that day, thought Jo, downcast, and got out of the car. Rufus accompanied her to the door, waiting until she'd unlocked it.

'Jo, you'd be doing me a very great service if you came to Rory's wedding with me,' he said casually.

She stared up at him, aghast. 'You're joking!'

'I'm not. In the light of our previous connection no one would think it odd if I took you as my guest.'

'I
would,' she said bluntly. 'Sorry, Rufus. Nothing doing.'

'Not even to rescue me from Susannah's endless matchmaking? Rory tipped me off that one of her unattached friends has been invited to partner me.'

'You're
more
than capable of dealing with the situation!' Jo assured him tartly.

"Think it over,' he said casually. 'You may change your mind. Goodnight.'

To
her
secret regret Jo heard no more from Rufus for several days, each of which grew longer and less bearable. Her concentration deteriorated to the point of non-existence, and because she was back to her normal routine of three evenings a week at the Mitre even the noise and diversion there was denied her some days. By mid-week Jo could stand it no longer. She bought a pregnancy-testing kit and confirmed what she'd known, in her heart of hearts, all along. Horrified, she made an appointment with her doctor, but the official test, just like her own, was obdurately positive.

When she reported for work on Friday evening she asked Phil Dexter if she could take the next week off as he'd mentioned, and he agreed promptly, telling her to take a fortnight. Jo thanked him warmly and turned away to serve a customer, and almost at once the usual pre-dinner rush began, with no sign of Rufus, and very little time to think of him or her predicament. It was almost nine, and all the diners had departed for the restaurant, effecting the usual mid- evening lull, when Jo saw Rufus come in and make straight for the bar.

'Hello,' he said, settling on a stool.

'Hi,' said Jo, trying to hide her delight at the sight of him. 'What can I get you?'

'Just a beer tonight.'

'Not your usual tipple,' she commented, filling a pint glass.

'I can make beer last longer than whisky, which makes my presence easier to account for while I wait for you,' he informed her.

Jo looked at him levelly as he handed her the money for the drink. 'You needn't, Rufus. I know my way home.'

'Nevertheless, I'll drive you.' He eyed her searchingly as she handed him the change. 'Sleeping badly?'

'Yes,' she muttered, glad when a new influx of customers made further conversation impossible, and Rufus retired to a corner to read his paper.

To her surprise half an hour later Phil Dexter handed her a
paypacket
and told her to go home. 'One of Louise's girls is coming to give us a hand. You look done in, Jo. Enjoy your holiday.'

'Thanks, Phil.' She smiled at him gratefully. 'I'll collect my bike tomorrow. I've got a lift home.'

He nodded, grinning. 'I thought so. That's why I'm letting you off early. Regular little fairy godfather, that's me.'

Jo chuckled. 'Thanks, Phil. Goodnight.' She collected her jacket and glanced across the crowded room at Rufus, who rose to his feet and followed her outside to the car park.

'You're early tonight,' he commented.

'Dispensation from the boss.'

'Good.' He looked down into her face as he helped her into the car. 'You look tired.'

Jo shrugged. 'Busy night.'

'Let's go back to my place—'

'I'd rather go straight home.' She eyed his profile diffidently as he got in beside her. 'Would you care to come in for a while?'

He shot a look at her. 'Of course I would.'

Neither of them made any attempt at conversation on the short journey to
Bruton
Road. Jo unlocked the door and went upstairs ahead of Rufus, and only broke the silence when she asked him to sit down once they were inside the flat.

'I've got some beer, or there's the remains of the brandy,' she said nervously as he remained on his feet.

Rufus looked down at her, one eyebrow raised. 'Why don't
you
sit down and I'll get the drinks?'

Jo shook her head. 'Actually, I'm rather hungry. Have you had dinner?'

'No. I had a long, boring lunch with one of my clients today.' Rufus shrugged. 'I was going to put something together for us at my place. Not that it was a success last time. You hardly ate anything.'

'To be honest—' she began, then stopped as he winced. 'What's the matter?'

'I tend to duck when you say that.'

'I was just going to say I'm not used to one-to-one situations with you, Rufus.' Her eyes gleamed pale in her sun-darkened face. 'Last time it acted like an appetite suppressant! But tonight I'm hungry. How about an
omelette
?'

'Perfect. What can I do?'

'Help yourself to a drink while I cook. It won't take long. The beer's in the fridge.'

He looked round. 'I'll pass on that for the moment. Coffee, maybe, after the
omelette
?'

Jo had been modest when she'd described herself as a no-nonsense cook. The sizzling, golden creation she handed
Rufus
ten minutes later was fragrant with herbs grown in her own window-boxes. He accepted it with mock reverence, and obeyed with alacrity when told to get on with it while the chef cooked her own. Accompanied by crisp rolls from the nearby bakery, followed by an apple for Jo and some deliquescent Brie for Rufus, the meal was eaten with
despatch
while they discussed items in the news that day.

Afterwards Jo refused Rufus' half-hearted offer of help and took the dishes into the kitchen, returning afterwards with two mugs of coffee.

'Instant and decaffeinated,' she said without apology, and gave him a wry smile.

'What is it?'

'I was just thinking how wonderfully
civilised
we are.'

'Conversing politely, even though you invited me solely to answer the question I'm burning to ask,' he said promptly.

'You're a clever devil, Rufus,' she allowed. 'In some ways it's surprising you were attracted to Claire. She would have been the first to admit she wasn't academic.'

'I was drawn to her for the same reason you were her life-long friend—the attraction of opposites.' He leaned back in his chair, watching her closely with dark, half-veiled eyes.

'I didn't mean anything derogatory,' said Jo hastily.

'I know you didn't. You and I, Jo Fielding, are very alike in some ways.' He smiled at her scathing look of disbelief. 'Oh, yes, we are. I follow your thought processes with surprising ease on occasion.'