Friday's Child Read online

  There was silence for a while, then Jay said harshly, as if something was grating in his throat, ‘You say I was the son my father always wanted, but can you say the same of his wife? Wasn’t Lady Jayston more relieved than disappointed at not being called upon to give house-room to her husband’s bastard?’

  ‘No!’ Mirry denied that vehemently. ‘She wanted whatever would make David happy. There was nothing small about Georgie, least of all her heart.’ But she could tell from his expression that he didn’t believe her.

  She turned in her seat, tucking her legs up so she was facing him. ‘Jay, why do you think Georgie was ready to embark on the upheaval of converting two-thirds of her home into flats… at her time of life and in her indifferent state of health?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea.’

  She was nettled at his apparent display of indifference, and decided to let him have the unvarnished truth. ‘Because she couldn’t bear to think that, having finally inherited what was rightfully yours, you’d have to sell because you couldn’t afford to live there.’

  Jay never took his eyes off the road, but she saw his jaw clench. ‘That mattered to her?’

  ‘It mattered. Because even though it had been your mother’s demands over the years that left the estate in such a bad way financially, Georgie felt guilty.’

  This time he darted her a frowning glance. ‘What did she have to feel guilty about?’

  ‘My own reaction entirely. She was just as much a victim of the situation as you were. But she felt that, because of David’s love for her, she’d always stood between you and your father, between you and your rightful place at Wenlow. So she thought up the conversion scheme to make the house self-supporting, and intended to use her own money—which David had always refused to touch—to put the scheme into action. She wanted you at Wenlow. She wanted you to feel secure there, to feel you belonged. She wanted you to be part of the family. Does that sound like a woman who bore a grudge?’

  At first he didn’t respond, then she saw the grim lines of his profile relax. ‘I don’t know how it is, Miss Grey,’ he said with a reluctant laugh, ‘but you seem to turn every preconceived notion I’ve ever had on its head.’

  Mirry relaxed too, recognising his tacit admission that he believed her. ‘I can tell you about the history of Wenlow too, if you like. When I was about sixteen I helped your father go through the archives. Jaystons have lived at Wenlow for more than four hundred years.’

  ‘You don’t think all those highly respectable ancestors will be turning in their graves at a bastard stepping into their hallowed shoes?’ he asked drily, and Mirry wondered if his illegitimacy still rankled.

  She decided the best way of handling the question was to treat it lightly. ‘I think “wrong side of the blanket” would be the term they’d use, and what makes you think they were all respectable? Some of the stories would curl your hair! Anyway, what difference does it make? You’re no less of a Jayston by blood, and it’s still your family history.’

  This time the fleeting glance was amused. ‘You should have taken up law, not architecture. You could convince any jury the most blackhearted villain was innocent. So, tell me some of my family history.’

  Elated, Mirry spent the rest of the journey telling him of the first Jayston who had fought on the side of Henry Tudor at the Battle of Bosworth, and had been rewarded with the Manor of Wenlow, where he had built the original Hall that was now the Dower House. And how, in the sixteen hundreds, a Jacobean Jayston had built the present Hall, only to almost lose it by backing the Royalist side in the Civil War. She had reached the return of the heir on the restoration of Charles the Second when they drew up in the courtyard of the Dower House.

  Jay lifted out her bag and, before she could thank him, her mother was at the door to greet them. ‘Simon rang to tell me you were bringing Mirry home, Jay. Thank you. You must stay for dinner, of course. I insist,’ she added, though Jay had made no sign he was about to turn the invitation down. ‘I’ve already told Martha not to expect you till later.’

  To Mirry’s joy, he accepted with every appearance of pleasure. It had to mean he’d made no definite arrangement to see Annabel tonight, so she could enjoy the bittersweet pleasure of his company for a few more hours.

  Nick volunteered to take Jay to one of the bathrooms to freshen up, asking eagerly after Tricia Charlesworth as they climbed the stairs. His speech had improved a lot in the weeks since Jay’s arrival at Wenlow, and it brought home to Mirry once again that it was time she began to organise her own future.

  Later, relaxing with a drink in front of the sitting-room fire because the evening had turned cool, Mirry managed to overcome her inertia to ask, ‘Isn’t it time we were serving up, Mum?’

  Cathy glanced at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. ‘It won’t hurt for a few more minutes. We’re just waiting—’ She broke off, turning towards the door.

  ‘Oh, here they are now.’

  And to Mirry’s disconcerted confusion, Annabel Frost walked in. Her first thought was that she had been invited for Jay’s benefit, but then Andrew followed her in, his bright blue eyes challenging Jay as he curved a proprietorial arm around Annabel’s waist.

  Anxiously, Mirry glanced at Jay as he rose to his feet to greet them, but his smile was warm and friendly, displaying neither surprise nor resentment. Annabel, too, though taken aback in the first few moments at finding herself face to face with the man she’d shown every sign of falling in love with only days ago, greeted him as though their friendship had never been more than platonic.

  So it was a puzzled and preoccupied Mirry at the dinner-table that night, only showing a flash of her usual sparkle as she related the meeting between Jay and Lord Shilbury. Had Annabel been mistaken in her feelings for Jay? she wondered. And what about Jay? Was he putting a good face on it in the light of her apparent defection? Mirry knew very well how good he was at hiding his feelings.

  But it wasn’t until much later, when Mirry was walking him out to his car, that Jay himself brought the subject up, saying drily, ‘It looks as if Annabel’s decided to forgive Andrew at last.’

  ‘You—you knew about that?’

  ‘That he trod heavily on her feelings in the past? Yes, she told me.’

  ‘And—and you don’t mind? That she’s turned back to him, I mean?’

  ‘Should I?’ He had moved closer, not touching, but close enough that she could feel his body heat.

  ‘Well, I thought you must.’ She moistened her dry lips. ‘I was there when the two of you met, remember. It was instant attraction between you.’

  In the light from the porch, something seemed to flare in his eyes. ‘Were you jealous, Mirry?’ he asked softly.

  Colour burned her cheeks. ‘It hurt,’ she said honestly, ‘when you made it so obvious you disliked me.’

  Jay sighed. ‘I’m ashamed to say I meant it to hurt.’ And then, at the wounded look on her face, ‘Oh, Mirry, you can’t be that innocent. If we’re talking about instant attraction, the air positively crackled every time we met. But you were a Grey, a member of the clan I’d been brought up to hate and resent. So instead of rushing you to the nearest bed and making passionate love to you— which is what I ached to do—I was as nasty to you as possible.’

  Mirry’s whole body was suddenly molten with heat. No man had ever spoken to her like that, and the images he had created in her mind made her dizzy. ‘And do you still hate us—me?’ she croaked.

  His hands came up to fondle her shoulders, drawing her closer, and once again she experienced the sweet, heady intoxication of his kiss. ‘Does it seem as if I hate you?’ he whispered.

  She shook her head, too breathless with wonder for words, and he laughed softly, as if pleased with the effect he was having on her emotions. ‘Then why don’t you come over to the Hall tomorrow? We can discuss that conversion plan of yours.’

  ‘Y-you’re going to stay, then?’ She couldn’t hide her eagerness.

  He kissed her ag
ain lingeringly, then, putting her from him, got into the car, lowering the window to say smilingly, ‘Let’s say I’m open to persuasion. You’ll come tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, yes…’ she breathed. ‘In the afternoon?’

  Watching his receding tail-lights, Mirry could hardly believe how things had changed in just a few hours. Had Jay really implied that he’d been attracted to her all along? Could he really be feeling the same turbulent emotions that were turning her life upside-down?

  She thought of Annabel’s astonishing change of heart and frowned. He hadn’t just said those things to save face, had he? No, hadn’t he behaved last night as if he really did like her, after all, hadn’t he even kissed her, and all before he knew Annabel was seeing Andrew?

  When Annabel greeted her at the stables the next morning with, ‘Did you have a nice time with Jay in London, then?’ Mirry’s doubts returned. Not for anything would she have her actions hurting someone else.

  ‘Oh, Annabel… is that why you were with Andrew last night?’ If Annabel had somehow known about it, then maybe she had been saving face, and that meant Andrew too could be hurt. ‘Look, I wasn’t trying…I mean, I knew how you felt about Jay, and I wouldn’t—’

  ‘Oh, that.’ Oddly, Annabel looked embarrassed. ‘I wish you’d forget about that, Mirry. Actually I made a bit of a fool of myself. And anyway, I didn’t know about your date with Jay till you spoke about it last night. I— I’d already been out several times with Andrew.’

  ‘To make Jay jealous?’ Mirry asked anxiously.

  ‘No!’ Annabel’s denial was emphatic. ‘If the truth be known, I only went after Jay in the first place to make Andrew mad. Only, well, he is very attractive, all that cool authority. And I suppose I got a bit carried away. The thing is, Mirry, I knew all along I was getting nowhere, especially,’ she pulled a rueful face, ‘as he spent most of our time together asking about you.’

  ‘Me?’ Mirry was astounded.

  ‘I know you thought he disliked you, but believe me, he was always talking about you. Don’t worry.’ Annabel gave a laughing shrug. ‘It was only my pride that was hurt. And then, after Jay went back to London the last time, I bumped into Andrew by accident and… well, discovered I’d never really stopped loving him.’

  Mirry’s face lit with a delighted smile as she hugged the other girl. ‘Oh, Annabel, I’m so glad! I love the idea of having you for a sister.’

  Annabel coloured like a peony. ‘Hey, we haven’t got that far yet! We’re only just getting to know each other again.’ Her expression softened. ‘But thanks for the sentiment.’

  When Mirry took the path through the gardens to the Hall that afternoon it was with a feeling of acute nervous excitement, and where in the past she would have gone through the kitchen, she carried on round to the front, her nervousness increasing as she rang the bell.

  A nervousness that seemed justified when Jay opened the door, frowning and demanding, ‘What’s all this in aid of?’

  Had he forgotten? Mirry wondered, flustered. Had the warmth he’d shown her last night been a mirage? He was wearing jeans and a light cotton sweater, both garments displaying a well-muscled body and her awareness of him only increased her confusion. ‘I—you asked me to come round this afternoon, if you remember.’

  ‘Of course I remember!’ And then, when she winced at his impatience, ‘Did you always ring the doorbell when my father was alive?’

  ‘No, of course not, but—’

  ‘Then don’t do it now.’

  Her brow clearing as she realised the source of his impatience, Mirry allowed herself to be drawn inside, murmuring mischievously, ‘No, sir, of course not, sir.’

  ‘There’s only one way to deal with that kind of insubordination.’ Jay drew her closer, a smile softening his threat, and Mirry was sure he would have kissed her but for Martha Barks’ breathless, ‘Oh, you’ve seen to it, Mr Jay. I thought—Mirry! Why on earth were you ringing the doorbell?’

  ‘I’ve just chastised her about that, Mrs Barks.’ Jay turned to the housekeeper and the moment was gone, for when he took Mirry through to the library he was completely businesslike. At first, as she went over her plans with him, her feeling of disappointment made it hard to concentrate, but, by the time they were moving around the house so that he could visualise for himself how it would all work, her enthusiasm for the project took over.

  ‘You see the east wing already has a separate entrance and staircase,’ she pointed out, ‘and splits perfectly into four flats, two one-bedroomed ones on the ground floor—ideal for a retired couple who don’t want stairs— and two much larger flats upstairs. It will mean putting a staircase into each of them up to the attic floor, and knocking some dividing walls down in those attics to make three good-sized bedrooms.

  ‘The west wing posed more problems as there’s no staircase on that side of the house. But I got round that by making each floor a self-contained unit. Come and see what I mean.’ She rushed him back through the main part of the house to the big formal drawing-room with french windows opening on to the terrace.

  ‘I did think of making this the entrance to the ground floor flat, but it’s such a lovely room I was reluctant to spoil it, so…’ She took him through the french windows and round the back end of the wing where there was a window that almost reached ground level. ‘I decided if that window came out and was replaced by a door…and that one too…’ she pointed up at the first floor ‘then build an outside staircase—the first and second floor flat would share the outer door, and in the hallway inside there’s room for a stair up to the attic floor. Because of the size of the drawing-room, the ground floor will have only two bedrooms, but the other two floors will have three.’ She took him inside again to show him how the layout would be.

  Jay looked and listened, but made no comment until, as they came to the end of their tour, he asked, ‘What about the main house?’ And, at her puzzled look, ‘I see you’ve made no plans for any alterations there to make up for the rooms it will lose.’

  ‘But the wings haven’t been used for years, except for the music-room, and very occasionally the drawing-room. You’ll still have the library and dining-room, as well as the little sitting-room, with the hall for large-scale entertaining. And there’ll still be the four main bedrooms—five if you turn Georgie’s sitting-room into a bedroom, though I suppose that would only work if the adjoining room was a nursery.’ She found herself blushing as she mentioned the nursery. ‘Anyway, the main house is your concern. You must have your own ideas how you would like it.’

  He seemed to be taking an inordinate interest in her flushed cheeks, and after a few moments said softly, ‘Tell me, Mirry, are you a virgin?’

  She flushed even redder until her fine skin burned, then, telling herself she had nothing to feel embarrassed about, lifted her chin challengingly. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Are you?’

  His mouth twisted into a wry smile. ‘No.’ Appropriately enough, they were descending the marble staircase that had been the scene of Mirry’s first embarrassing meeting with Jay. Not that he was showing any embarrassment when he went on, ‘I’ve always been too aware of the dangers of bringing an unwanted child into the world to be a womaniser, but I have had a couple of relationships, the first when I was at university…’

  Mirry didn’t want to hear, but, completely oblivious that these unasked-for revelations were hurting her, he steered her towards the library. ‘We shared a flat for more than a year, and I saw it as a preliminary to sharing the rest of our lives. I was very young, of course, and possibly greener than most. When she took her first job she moved on to a new man.’

  He had loved her, Mirry thought, and half her anguish was for his hurt, the rest for her own.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘The second woman in my life was when I was working in New York.’ Jay ushered her to the sofa and bent to switch on the electric fire. ‘And although the affair lasted for a couple of years, I knew right at the start she was a career girl with no ambit
ions to settle for domesticity, so when Alpha Hotels offered me a directorship and I came back to England, there were no bones broken on either side. What would you like to drink? Sherry?’

  ‘I—thank you,’ she answered automatically, while still wondering why he had been telling her all this. But, glancing at her watch, she was staggered to find it was almost seven o’clock. ‘Do you mind if I cancel that drink? Mum will have the meal ready.’

  ‘I’ll phone and tell her you’re eating with me.’

  ‘Oh! But what about Martha? She won’t—’

  ‘Martha had her instructions first thing this morning.’ He put the glass in her hand. ‘And we do still have things to discuss. What’s the number?’

  Mirry told him, but if she expected that discussion was to be about the conversion plans, she was mistaken.

  After they had gone into the dining-room, where Martha had left everything in the heated trolley so they could serve themselves, Jay disconcerted her by asking, ‘Were you serious about never having slept with any of your boyfriends?’

  Again she felt the betraying colour sweeping across her cheeks, but, hanging on to her poise, she answered obliquely, ‘I assume “slept” is a euphemism, since I suppose sleeping is the last thing one does on such occasions.’

  ‘You suppose!’ She was striving valiantly to spoon up her soup, but could feel his gaze boring into her.

  ‘I haven’t even talked about it with a man before, let alone done it,’ she admitted with a rush, and finally looked up to see him shaking his head. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I believe you. I was shaking my head in wonder.’ He finished his soup and, collecting her empty bowl too, returned them to the trolley and began to serve Martha’s delicious chicken casserole. ‘Why? I mean, you can’t have lacked opportunity. You’re twenty-three years old, you lived away from home for two years, and with five brothers you can’t have lacked admirers among their friends. So it has to be because that’s the way you wanted it—or didn’t want it in this case—because you’re not going to tell me no man’s ever been tempted to warm his hands, if not his heart, on a girl like you.’