To Tame the Playboy: The Playboy of Pengarroth Hall / A Night with the Society Playboy / Playboy Boss, Pregnancy of Passion

There were, as yet, only a few customers drinking at the bar, and the woman beckoned to Fleur to follow her. ‘I’ll get you a decent towel, dear,’ she said. ‘There are only paper ones in there.’ She smiled at Sebastian, handing him a menu. ‘And you can be looking at this, Sebastian.’

Alone, Fleur sighed briefly. Why did she have to fall down and make such a fool of herself? She took off the jacket, examining it closely. All that mud would hopefully brush off when it was dry, she thought, putting it over the back of a chair for a moment, and noting that her jeans were relatively unscathed. She stared at her reflection in the rather dingy mirror and groaned. She had nothing with her to restore some of her confidence—no blusher, no lipstick, not even a comb to run through her hair, which she’d left loose that morning.

Sitting at a table by the roaring log fire in the bar, Sebastian half-stood as Fleur came back to join him, and he pulled out a chair for her. ‘You look better,’ he said casually. Then, ‘Are you really sure there was no physical damage, Fleur?’

She smiled up at him quickly, shaking her head. ‘Quite sure, thanks,’ she replied.

While he’d been supposedly studying the menu, Sebastian’s thoughts had been more occupied with what could have happened to Fleur, down there by herself. She could have badly sprained—or even broken—an ankle, and been lying there for goodness knew how long if he hadn’t decided to try and find her. And it had only been a last-minute thought as he’d left the farm that had prompted him to check whether she was still around. He shuddered slightly, reminding himself that he’d actually not intended to go back to the house until much later on—so, if Fleur hadn’t returned, it could easily have been dark before anyone had realized she was missing.

He’d handed her the menu and, after studying it for a moment, she gave it back and looked up at him, properly. ‘I’m really sorry if I’ve…interrupted…your day,’ she murmured.

Her bewitchingly long eyelashes were still wet from washing her face, and he noticed again the way she had of sometimes blinking in a kind of slow motion…which he admitted to finding strangely titillating. At this moment, she was totally unadorned, he thought, her face rather pale and her unusually untidy, loosely flowing, wavy hair touching her shoulders.

‘You’re not interrupting anything,’ he lied. ‘Stop worrying. And I’ve ordered red wine because I’ve noticed that’s what you seem to prefer…’

Fleur couldn’t help feeling surprised at the remark. She wouldn’t have thought he cared enough about her—or any of Mia’s friends—to be that observant. She bent forward slightly to warm her hands by the fire. ‘I don’t ever drink at lunch time,’ she said, ‘but I could be persuaded to make an exception—under certain circumstances. Thank you, Sebastian. Just one glass will be perfect.’

He grinned at her now, and she was aware again of his startlingly white teeth, which seemed to light up his rather serious bronzed features. ‘And, as I’m driving, I’d better follow suit.’ He paused. ‘Joy will keep the bottle safe for us. We’ll finish it another time.’

Fleur was about to say—Look, there doesn’t have to be another time—you don’t have to do this, Sebastian. I’m all right by myself…but she didn’t. Because after that first stab of embarrassment when he’d turned up by the river, she’d been grateful of his presence and his company.

Suddenly, he bent forward too and took one of her hands in his, looking down intently. ‘Look, you have hurt yourself, Fleur,’ he said, almost accusingly. ‘See—there’s quite a bad graze here on your knuckles…Didn’t you see it, feel it?’

‘A bit,’ Fleur conceded. ‘But it’s nothing, Sebastian, really. No blood. So, no blood, no tears. My father’s maxim all my life.’

He said nothing, but didn’t let go of her hand, gently tracing the affected part with his forefinger, and Fleur couldn’t help liking the sensation it gave her!

Just then, Joy appeared with the wine, and she glanced down, her quick eyes taking in the scene. Sebastian Conway had not had a woman with him for far too long, in her opinion. And this one was obviously someone special. Even with all the hubbub on New Year’s Eve she’d noticed her amongst Mia’s crowd. And she’d also noticed Sebastian’s eyes following her every move. Well, about time, the woman thought.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘THIS is always the worst bit of Christmas,’ Pat said, from her lofty position on top of the stepladder as she handed down the last of the decorations to Fleur.

‘Yes, it is rather sad—the ending of something you’ve really enjoyed,’ Fleur agreed, kneeling down to coil all the fairy lights into a large box. ‘But time goes by so quickly, it’ll soon be happening all over again.’

Just then, Sebastian came in and glanced at the two women. ‘Hi there,’ he said briefly. Then, ‘Good—putting all the junk away and getting back to normality.’

‘Oh you, Sebastian!’ Pat exclaimed. ‘Talk about not being in the spirit of the season!’

Still intent on her task, Fleur glanced quickly up at Sebastian and their eyes met for the fleetest of seconds. He was dressed, as usual, in outdoor gear, and his hair was tousled and wet from the early morning rain.

‘I could murder a black coffee,’ he said. ‘Can I get us all some?’

‘No, you cannot,’ Pat said firmly, as she climbed carefully down from the ladder. ‘I’ll do that, Sebastian, if you’ll be so kind as to take this tree outside.’

‘My pleasure,’ he said at once, as Pat left the room.

Fleur finished putting the lights away, then closed the box carefully and got to her feet.

Sebastian said, ‘How’ve you been doing, Fleur, over the last few days?’ He was feeling somewhat guilty because he’d seen hardly anything of her since her fall, not only because he’d had to be elsewhere, but because he was determined to avoid—as much as he could—any emotional entanglements, and he was honest enough to admit that Fleur could, if only she knew it, change his mind on the matter. When they’d sat together in the pub the other lunch time, two whole hours had passed like five minutes…He’d found her an engaging conversationalist, unpretentious without being coy, and with firm opinions which, though freely expressed, were never combative. And, as she’d become thoroughly relaxed in front of the fire, her face had glowed, enlivened by her eyes glistening in the light from the flickering flames. At the point when he’d reached for her hand and held it for those few moments—ostensibly to make sure she wasn’t really hurt—a sudden warmth had coursed through him, too. But with that sensation had come a wariness of being entrapped again. Easier to start than to stop, he’d reminded himself cynically. Hadn’t he always considered himself an astute judge of human nature—didn’t his profession hang on that premise?

So how could he possibly have been blinded to the essential components of Davina’s nature? He’d learned the truth eventually—fortunately before he’d made her his wife. But it had been a close run thing, the possibility of their union becoming the subject of much discussion, both at work and down here. The news of their split had travelled fast too, and his independent, rather private nature had resented the publicity bitterly. Not that all the facts of the debacle had ever generally been known, which was somehow worse because what people didn’t know they made up. And the locals who’d been expecting a glitzy wedding to talk about had had to go away empty-handed. The lesson, for him, had been a hard one, and there would never be a next time. That much he’d promised himself.

Besides, was there a twenty-first century woman alive who’d be prepared to incarcerate herself down here in the wet Cornish countryside for the rest of her life? He very much doubted that! Today’s women were different. They didn’t want to be tied to someone else’s expectations and demands. It might work for the first few months, or a year, but after that the novelty would soon wear off. No, he had set his singular course straight ahead, with no distracting turnings. Here, pretty much alone, was where he was to spend his days. And he knew that that was the best possible thing for him, and for Pengarroth Hall. It would have to be a child of Mia’s who, eventually, took charge of the estate. Even if the name died out, the blood line would almost certainly continue.

‘Oh, I’ve been having a great time, thanks,’ Fleur replied cheerfully, in answer to his question. ‘I’ve had the chance to really explore the area, and I’ve finally stopped getting lost every time I leave Pengarroth Hall. All the locals are so friendly…they love to stop for a chat. I feel as though I’m becoming part of the scenery!’

‘Hmm,’ Sebastian said briefly. No doubt tongues were beginning to wag already, he thought. He’d been aware of the landlady at the Black Horse darting them knowing glances from time to time. He cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been around for a while,’ he said, ‘but I knew I was going to be caught up…’

‘Please—there’s no need to apologize,’ Fleur said quickly, ‘and…’

‘No, perhaps not,’ he said, ‘but I did promise Mia that I’d be able to sort of…’

‘You shouldn’t have promised Mia anything—and she shouldn’t have asked!’ Fleur said, her colour rising, and angry again that Mia had taken it upon herself to interfere. Perhaps now was the time to invent that phone call, she thought, and go back home. ‘If I’d thought,’ she went on more calmly, ‘that you—or anyone—were going to feel responsible for me, I’d have refused the invitation in the first place. I told you, I’m used to being alone, and I like it! I like doing my own thing without the constraints of having to fall in with other people’s wishes.’ She paused, looking up at him, her face flushed. ‘Please—for heaven’s sake—pretend I’m not here!’

He half-smiled as he looked down at her, resisting the temptation to cup her chin in his hands and place his lips on hers. How could he—or anyone—pretend this woman wasn’t here? Even Pat, who had been known to show her disapproval of one or two of Mia’s friends, seemed to genuinely like Fleur.

‘OK,’ he said easily, ‘but first, you can guide this tree outside for me…We’ll have to use the side door to the garden. Here, put these on.’ He handed her his gloves, then went across and with surprisingly little effort heaved the tree out of its pot and leaned it towards Fleur, who immediately took it by a bough near the top and helped him guide it out of the hall, appreciating the gloves which protected her hands from the prickly pine needles.

‘Coffee’s ready,’ Pat called out and, after they’d deposited the tree outside, Fleur and Sebastian joined her in the kitchen. Benson was stretched out in front of the warm stove and Fleur automatically bent down to pet him.

‘I suppose Benson’s tired from his walk?’ she said, glancing up at Sebastian.

‘No, because he hasn’t had one yet,’ Sebastian replied. ‘I couldn’t persuade him to accompany me earlier. And I’m seeing Frank up at the top end of the estate this morning, so this lazy dog will have to wait until later on for his stroll.’

‘Oh, can I take him?’ Fleur asked eagerly. ‘I know the places we’re allowed to go. Will he come with me?…I haven’t been out myself yet, anyway.’

‘I’m sure he’d love to go with you,’ Sebastian replied, taking his mug of coffee from Pat.

The three of them sat there for a few minutes making light conversation, then Sebastian got up decisively. ‘I must go,’ he said, then turned to look at Fleur. ‘I’m going into Truro tomorrow morning—would you like to come? And you too, Pat,’ he added as an afterthought. ‘I know how you women like shopping.’

‘It’s kind of you to offer, Sebastian,’ Pat said firmly, ‘but I’ve lots of things to do and, besides, I want to be with Mum as much as possible. But Fleur will enjoy Truro—there’s lots to see, apart from the shops.’ She threw a shrewd glance at the two of them as she spoke. Sebastian had always been a bit of a dark horse where women were concerned, but she could definitely feel something in the air every time she caught him looking at Fleur. So she wasn’t going to play gooseberry, thank you very much. Her expression softened as she looked at Sebastian. He was a good man, and a fantastic employer—as his parents had been—never over-demanding and always appreciative. And, although he had a bit of a short fuse at times, it was usually justified; he had a very keen sense of right and wrong. She knew Frank worshipped him, would do anything for him, and now Frank’s son, Martin, always a bit of a tear-away, had come to work on the estate as well. And Sebastian had seen the youngster’s potential as a carpenter and was paying for him to go part-time to college to learn the trade properly. But Fleur…this young woman…she could be just the one for Sebastian, Pat thought. She was different from other hopefuls who’d turned up occasionally at Pengarroth Hall…She seemed to sort of fit in with the atmosphere of the place, and to really enjoy being here and wandering about by herself. And she wasn’t always looking at herself in the mirror, either.

‘Oh, fine,’ Sebastian said casually. ‘How about you, Fleur? I promise there’s enough to keep you interested while I’m seeing the accountant.’

She looked up at him. ‘Are you sure it won’t be rather inconvenient, thinking about me when you’ve got other more important things on your mind?’ she asked.

He was just about to reply when Fleur’s mobile rang, and she paused to answer it. It was Mia.

‘Hi, Mia! Yes…fine, absolutely fine! Having a great time…and feeling great, too.’ She smiled as she listened to her friend’s exuberant tones. ‘Oh, poor you, having to work so hard…but it’ll be the same for me in just over a week…unless I’m called back earlier,’ she added quickly, giving herself the option of cutting her stay short—and of letting Sebastian hear it. There was another pause, then, ‘Yes, he’s standing right here by my side. Do you want a word?’

She passed the phone up to Sebastian and listened as he and Mia exchanged the usual pleasantries. Then, ‘Yes, you know that I always do as you tell me, and I’m taking Fleur into Truro tomorrow so that she can have a look around while I’m with the accountant and the solicitor. What? Oh, yes, we might do that as well…OK, OK, I’ll pass you back. Be good.’

Fleur raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t said she’d go with him—he was assuming that she would. But then, why not? she thought. She knew Truro wasn’t that far away, and they’d only be gone for the morning…there’d still be plenty of day left for Sebastian after that, without having to think about her.

She watched his retreating back, then took their mugs over to the sink.

‘Now, you leave those things to me, dear,’ Pat said, thinking how pretty Fleur looked in her huge cream chunky sweater, her golden hair loose around her face. ‘And, by the way, Mum says why don’t you come up to the cottage for afternoon tea one day? Then you can bring back the novels she promised to lend you.’