Hidden on the back of a cart, Red had heard the shots and the screams of terror. The cries of the children too. It was a sound he would never forget. He sometimes dreamt he was back there in that small French village having rewound the clock so that innocent people weren’t murdered because of him.
‘Are you quite warm now?’
He spun round at the sound of Romily’s voice, his hand catching on the snow globe. It fell from the mantelpiece and crashed onto the stone hearth. The glass shattered on impact and liquid splashed into the fire with a hiss.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, bending to pick up the debris. ‘I’ll replace it for you. Of course.’
‘You’ll do no such thing,’ she said, putting the tea tray down, then coming over to him. ‘In fact, you’ve done me a favour by breaking the thing. I’ve never liked it, but out it comes each year because it was a gift and I’ve never had the heart to throw it away. Careful with that glass,’ she added.
Her warning came too late and with a perversity that served him right for his clumsiness, a shard of glass sliced his thumb, drawing from him a muttered expletive.
‘Here, let me see,’ she said.
‘It’s okay, I’m not about to bleed to death all over your hearthrug.’
‘I couldn’t give a damn about the rug. Hold out your hand.’
He did as she said. What man wouldn’t when confronted with those violet eyes? Goddammit, she was even more beautiful than he remembered!
After inspecting his hand, she took a linen napkin from the tray behind her, and deftly wound it tightly around his thumb.
‘My surprise visit is not going well, is it?’ he said. ‘Should I just fetch my coat and leave you in peace? God knows what next I might break or inflict on you.’
‘Curiosity makes me inclined to let you stay,’ she said, ‘if only so I can see what else you get up to. But you must warn me if there’s a danger of you breaking anything of value.’
He held up his hand with its makeshift bandage applied. ‘I knew there was something about you I liked. Your absolute commitment to making me look more foolish than I already am.’
‘Nothing could be further from the truth. Now please, sit down and have your tea and cake, then I’ll find a proper dressing for your thumb, Mr St Clair.’
‘Are we to be so formal now . . . Mrs Devereux-Temple?’
She placed the dainty cup and saucer and plate on the occasional table next to him. And then her face broke into a smile. It was the smile that had lured him thousands of miles across the Atlantic on a mission to win her over. As Rudyard Kipling said, ‘Nothing is ever settled until it is settled right.’ And he was here to do exactly that.
‘I don’t know why I said what I did,’ she said, sitting down, ‘it just came out.’
‘It’s probably because I have put you on the spot by arriving unannounced.’
‘Was that your intention?’
‘No. And this may come as a surprise to you, I came all this way because I wanted to apologise to you. I was unforgivably rude to you. Not to say, pig-headed too. You should speak to my sister on that particular subject; she’s an expert on my manifold failings.’
‘You could have simply written.’
He drank some of his tea, before saying: ‘I did.’
‘Oh? I haven’t received a letter.’
‘That’s because I lost my nerve and didn’t post it. And you know what? It was a masterpiece of writing. Possibly my best.’
She smiled. ‘I’m disappointed I was denied the pleasure of reading it.’
He took another sip of his tea. ‘And this is the bit when you say, but instead of a mere letter, you have the pleasure of seeing me in the flesh once more.’
‘Red, it’s a pleasure to see you again.’
He smiled. ‘With a little more conviction, if you could manage it. You know, just to put me at ease.’
‘Do you feel very ill at ease?’
‘You bet I do!’
She too drank her tea, while he took a bite of the cake. Followed by another. It was delicious. And he was starving into the bargain. He settled back into the armchair and stretched out his legs in front of him.
‘What are your plans?’ she asked, as though warning him not to get too comfortable.
‘For the rest of my life?’
A smile twitched at the corners of her lips. ‘I was thinking more of the immediate future. Have you booked somewhere to stay tonight?’
‘You afford me more common sense than I possess. Forward planning is not one of my strong suits. Half-baked schemes, that’s more my line.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind. In the absence of a plan, you must stay here.’
‘I couldn’t possibly put you out. Well, no more than I have already.’
‘Come, come now,’ she said archly, ‘don’t be disingenuous. You know jolly well that I could no more turn you out into the cold, than I could accept your apology without giving you one of my own.’
‘What do you have to be sorry for?’ he asked, surprised.
‘Something which has been on my mind since we last saw each other. I was inexcusably rude to you and overreached myself when we were talking. And if we’re speaking of failings, that is one of mine. I’ve always been too meddlesome for my own good.’
‘You did nothing wrong,’ he said. ‘I overreacted to a question which . . . which scratched at a raw spot. As you doubtless suspected it would. Which is why you asked the question in the first place; you were trying to shake me out of my evasiveness.’
‘I had no right to do that. You were perfectly entitled to be as evasive as you wanted. More cake?’
‘Thank you.’ He leaned forward and held out his plate with his injured hand.
‘How’s your thumb? Has it stopped bleeding?’
He gave it a cursory look. ‘I believe it has. But I’m afraid your napkin may never be the same again.’
‘A good soak overnight and it’ll be as right as rain.’
‘If only all life’s problems could be so simply resolved,’ he said with a smile.
‘And what problems do you have that you wish you could be rid of?’
He fixed his gaze directly on hers. ‘I have one very tricky problem and I’m darned if I know how to go about resolving it.’
‘Can I help in any way?’ she asked, relaxing into the cushions behind her on the sofa.