Without Saying a Word (4 page)

“Well, as the man of the house, I suppose I’d better ask what your intentions are toward my mother.”

Rhean inclined his head at the question

“Honorable,” he replied. “As to what happens in the future, that’s up to her. I will tell you something, though.” He looked up at Theo. “I won’t stay here nights, nor will I interfere with the way the family works.”

Theo was silent for a few moments.

“You won’t hurt her will you?” he asked. “Physically or—?” He left the rest of the question unspoken.

“Never,” Rhean stated firmly. He stood up and walked toward Theo. “I would never hurt the woman I love—ever,” he reassured the boys and left the living room.

The car swept up the path to Kirkleigh Grange, past extensive grounds and a smaller double-fronted cottage. The wide driveway was lined with majestic oak trees shedding gold, crisp leaves. It was a beautiful house, four stories high and made of gray stone. Large windows at ground level were framed with heavy cream curtains. Around the house were large gray ornamental containers filled with fragrant herbs. The stairs to the front door held pots of shrubs turning varying hues of green, red and brown. Rhean parked the car at the front and everyone piled out. Theo and James followed Rhean and their mother up the stoop to the front door. When they entered the large hall, the boys disappeared, Theo to the den and James to the kitchen in search of food, leaving Laura and Rhean alone together in the cavernous hallway.

“Make yourselves at home kids.” Rhean laughed. “You never said why Maisie didn’t come.”

Laura’s face turned red. “I said she could have some friends round.”

Rhean made an O with his mouth. “Boys?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not sure, but I think so. I won’t badger her about it.”

Rhean nodded. “While there is no one around...” He leaned  toward her, and pulled Laura close to him. His lips met hers, and he held her close. Surely she could feel the effect she had on him through the long purple tunic that clung to her curves.

****

Laura lost herself in the kiss, feeling his strength and passion. He took her mouth hungrily, sending spirals of ecstasy through her. She felt his arousal against her body and felt somewhat conflicted about why Rhean decided to make his move, and why she responded to his attentions. Up until now, she’d thought herself devoid of all romantic feelings toward a man, and maybe even dead inside.

Laura attempted to pull away, aware that they were still in the entrance hall, but Rhean rested his head on hers and murmured, “Not bad for a novice.”

“Who?” Laura looked up at him. Her hazel eyes flashed with passion, savoring the feelings he awoke within her.

“Me,” Rhean stated. Laura’s eyes widened at his unexpected comment. Taking her hand he led her down a wood paneled picture gallery, and opened a heavy oak door.

Inside the room, on one expansive mahogany desk, piles of paper were strewn in varying sizes of heaps in a complete contradiction to the way the study had been decorated. The opposite desk—that Laura guessed was Lady Leighton’s—had a similar amount of papers but in a more orderly fashion. Rhean sat on the leather chair behind the desk and quoted ruefully,”One day my son, all this will be yours.”

“When did he say that to you Rhean?” Laura inquired.

“Last night when he rang to update me on what was happening and when they would be back home.” Rhean reached over to the mantel and pulled on a long cream-colored silken rope. “Can you help?”

“With what?” Laura asked in bewilderment.

“Organizing the Fayre and Ball,” he explained. “Look, I know it’s going to be hard work, but I think if we work together, we can pull it off.” There was hope in Rhean’s voice.

“Okay, but we will need tea and lots of it if we are going to tackle it,” Laura announced looking at the papers on the desk. She had something to focus on, and take her mind off her problems. The Fayre and Ball were the major Kirkleigh events that brought the community together. The door to the study opened and Graham, the butler, walked in.

“You rang Master Rhean?” he asked in a very formal voice, ready to carry out his master’s instructions. In his late fifties, the butler stood erect with his graying blond hair cut military short. Six feet tall in height, Graham was devoted to the family and kept Kirkleigh Grange running smoothly and with strict protocol. He always dressed formally in his butler’s uniform of black tails and a pristine white shirt.

Rhean glared at him. “Cut the formal rubbish, Graham. Can you bring us some tea and lots of it please?” he asked, winking at Laura.

Graham inclined his head. “Of course, sir,” he replied.

“Would you also find out what the boys are up to please?” Laura requested.

The butler nodded again.

“Mrs. Stevens wishes to know if lunch is required.” Rhean and Laura looked at each other and started to chuckle.

“Of course,” said Rhean. “Imagine not feeding hungry teens; you would have a riot on your hands.” He raised his eyebrows. .

“Dinner too?” Rhean looked to Laura for confirmation.

“I’d definitely say dinner too” she said with a forced smile as she stared at the pile of papers in front of her. “Rhean, are you sure your mother won’t mind me going through these?”

“Not at all. I arranged with Mum’s secretary to get the papers ready,” he replied.

The door closed with a click as Graham left the study.

As Laura flicked though the papers, a sudden thought cropped up in her mind.

“Rhean?”

“Yes Laura?” he replied without looking up from the computer.

“What made you decide to go into teaching rather than follow your father into law?”  It was a question she had often wanted to ask him.

Rhean looked over at her, and then leaned back in his chair.

″I thought you already knew.″

Laura shook her head.

″I had a fantastic headmaster when I was at boarding school. He knew every student by name, and stamped out bullying. He encouraged us with achievable goals.” Rhean’s voice softened when he spoke of his mentor. “Dr. Colwell was firm but fair—the kind of man I’ve always wanted to be. Devoted to his wife and family, and also devoted to his pupils. He’s the reason I took up teaching. I wanted to make a difference.” Rhean smiled over at Laura. “Does that answer your question?”

″Perfectly,″ Laura replied and went back to her myriad of paperwork.

The door to the study opened and Graham stalked in with a large tray. He placed it on a table in the middle of the room.

“Masters Theo and James are playing computer games,” he informed them. “Lunch will be at one,” he announced, then bowed and left the room.

“So much for informality,” Rhean said dryly. Laura giggled, got up and poured the tea. Both of them sipped their drinks from delicate china cups and saucers as they tackled the mound of papers in front of them.

After an hour of plowing through reports of previous Fayres, Laura stretched her back in the high back leather chair and lifted her arms above her head. She glanced over at the sofa in front of the fire where Rhean sat tapping away on his laptop. The fire blazed and crackled. She moved away from the desk and walked around the study, trying to wake up a little. The room was large, with a central Adams fireplace, above which a large portrait of a gentleman in full court regalia hung. Around the fireplace itself, a fawn fabric sofa and two Queen Anne armchairs were positioned in a U shape and on the mantelpiece sat many informal family photographs. That the Countess put her stamp on the male domain was evident in the way that her desk— although mahogany in keeping with the dark color scheme—looked decidedly feminine.  Both desktops were scattered with black and white photographs of the family. Laura picked up the photograph of the earl and stared at it trying to see Rhean in him. Both the earl and his son were similar in appearance. They shared the same high cheekbones and full lips. However, Rhean and his mother seemed to share the gypsy curls that tumbled over their foreheads carelessly, but Rhean’s curls caressed his forehead like a kiss.

A kiss? Where had that come from? Laura wondered. Her gaze fell on him, relaxed on the sofa with the laptop on the coffee table. His sleeves were rolled up past his elbows, exposing thick, dark-haired muscular arms. Laura felt relaxed and comfortable with Rhean, even more so than when she had been with her ex-husband. Rhean exuded safety and confidence. When he  kissed her last night, it brought out feelings Laura had never before experienced, even with Max. She thought she’d experienced love with Max, but the kiss last night completely shook her to the core. Laura’s arm went around her waist instinctively and her mind hurtled back to the day that her marriage died. She could still hear the hurtful expletives Max yelled at her, frustrated at being found out And the agony as first, he knocked her to the floor, then kicked her. Two of Laura’s ribs had broken, but he stopped only when James and Theo leaped on him, pushing him out of the way, as Maisie dragged her to safety. It was much too much for her to remember. Laura’s knees buckled and she would have collapsed had it not been for a strong pair of arms that held her up and led her to the sofa.

Laura lay there with her eyes closed, trying hard to block the bad memories with good ones. Rhean’s face appeared above her. She thought of the way she’d felt when he took charge yesterday and looked after her, his strong masculine features clearly defined. And the way his lips felt on hers, his interaction with her children, and most of all that he’d needed no words to make her feel like a woman. When she opened her eyes, her hand was engulfed in his, his thumb making a circular pattern on her wrist, and his intense midnight-blue eyes fixed on her, full of concern and worry. She knew now that there was something very special about this man.

“Laura what happened? Are you okay now?” Rhean whispered, but didn’t release her hand. Laura shook her head.

“Rhean, I am really sorry. I guess I had an anxiety attack.” As Laura tried to explain, her voice trembled.

“I think we should get you an appointment to see the doctor.” His voice was uncompromising, yet gentle, but Laura shook her head.

“I’ll be fine Rhean, trust me. I just got a bit overwhelmed and felt...” her voice trailed off as she tried to find the words. “I think I’m out of my comfort zone,” she finally said and winced at the dreadful phrase.

Rhean nodded, put his arm firmly around her waist, and helped her up from the sofa.

“All right, Laura, if you’re sure you’ll be okay,” he told her. “However, another attack like that and I’ll take you down to the surgery myself, no hesitations. Deal?” Rhean used his best headmaster tone of voice, but it failed to impress her. She nodded, and allowed Rhean to take control for once.

*****

Rhean continued to hold Laura, and his grip on her hand tightened some. He was reluctant to let her go even for a second. When he saw her collapse at his father’s desk, his first instinct was to ring the doctor after placing her on the sofa where she lay still.  The look of agony and horror on her face had been evident. She’d obviously been reliving some dreadful event in her mind; whatever had happened in the past had obviously affected her deeply. The way she recoiled when his arm touched her underneath her ribcage intimated the abuse Theo told him about. Rhean felt a flash of rage at what she’d been through. But being angry wouldn’t help her. Instead, he swallowed his anger and concentrated on helping Laura calm down, and feel protected and safe.

He heard his stomach growl. Laura looked at him. A hint of a smile lifted her soft lips.

“I think its lunch time,” Rhean said, leaning his forehead on hers, offering her more comfort. Laura curled into him, as if trying to absorb some of his strength. Then her stomach joined in too. She blushed, the tops of her cheeks turning pink.

“Yep,” Rhean said, as he stood up and held his hand out to hers. “Come on woman, let’s go and fill our bellies, as my mother would say.”

****

Lunch was an informal affair. Mrs. Stevens made a hearty vegetable soup, sandwiches and piles of crisps in a buffet style. They all sat down in the garden room at the back of the house, and one of Laura’s favorites, talking about nothing in particular. Laura stared out the window, watching the leaves chase each other around, smiling to herself when one of the Countess’s many King Charles spaniels joined in the game, bouncing and frolicking around. Theo and James seemed to love the huge screen in the lounge for the many console games.

“Speaking of the library...”  Rhean spoke to Laura out of the blue.

“Yes?” she answered him, still subdued. Laura was still on edge and her stomach was in knots after her earlier attack.