But how often did that happen? How many leopards were really capable of changing their spots? Was Max capable of undergoing such a transformation? Or was she doing him a disservice, had he already put his past behind him?
The bigger question she had to ask was far more difficult to answer – was she capable of changing? Could she shake off her own spots sufficiently in order to trust her feelings for Red?
If she thought only of the smaller picture, she could happily throw herself into a relationship with Red, but the moment she panned out to see the whole picture, she lost focus. Perhaps that was her mistake, trying too hard to gaze into the crystal ball of life. Why not simply enjoy the moment? It was what they had all done during the war. They had made whatever fun they could, and whenever they could.
There was no getting away from it, she had enjoyed herself immensely today going out into the village with Red and throwing herself into a snowball fight with him. Not since Isabella, Annelise, and Stanley had been children had she done anything like that. Nor, in a long time, had she kissed a man in the way she had Red.
They had been on their way to the village with the sledge when, and with no one else around, he had swept her up in his arms and kissed her, pressing her against the snow-covered tree. It had been the most delicious kiss, full of breathless passion, just as when they had kissed the night before. There was no mistaking the desire that existed between them. But could she trust it?
Since when had she been so distrustful of her feelings? Did it go back to that awful day – a day she had tried so hard to forget – when she lost her child?
Her mind instantly dodged answering the question by thinking of Annelise. Poor Annelise suffering just what Romily had all those years ago. What would she decide to do?
It was easy to think that in 1962 they lived in more enlightened times, but an illegitimate baby was still frowned upon. Just as it was when Romily discovered she was carrying a child who would never know its father.
She could have cast herself as a victim, but what good would that have done? It would only have been a lie. She had made love with Matteo with her eyes wide open, somehow believing that the worst couldn’t happen. Not to her. Why would it, when she saw herself as practically invincible? She had survived the crash in the Walrus, and any number of near misses, before and after, why would her luck run out and she fall pregnant?
Hearing the library door creak open, she looked up and was surprised to see Red peering in at her. He had gone to bed the same time as Isabella and Max, and she had assumed he would be out for the count like last night.
‘Waiting for Santa to arrive?’ he asked.
‘Just thinking over a few things,’ she said, closing the lid on the box.
‘May I come in?’
‘Of course.’
She motioned for him to sit in the comfortable chair to one side of the fire, which was still glowing and throwing out plenty of warmth.
‘So why aren’t you fast asleep?’ she asked, moving away from the desk to sit opposite him.
‘I was thinking about you and how much I’d enjoyed today.’
She smiled. ‘I enjoyed it too.’
‘That’s good to know.’
‘Is it?’
He leaned forward, his dressing gown opening slightly to reveal the blue silk of his pyjama top. ‘And what sort of a question is that?’
‘A fairly straightforward one, I’d say.’
‘The hell it is,’ he said with an easy laugh. ‘Everything with you is loaded with complicated significance. Do you ever just trust your gut and act on impulse?’
‘Not as much as I once did.’ Without meaning to, her gaze slid towards the box on her desk. ‘But since many years ago, it hasn’t been so easy for me to be quite so impulsive.’
His own gaze followed hers. ‘Did somebody let you down?’ he asked.
She shook her head at the leap of thought he’d made. ‘Yes. But I let myself down more. It’s perhaps the only thing I’ve done in my life that I regret.’
‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
She thought of all that he had shared with her about his time in France, and of Sophie. But she couldn’t bring herself to be as honest in return. ‘Another time maybe,’ she said evasively.
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘You look and sound like you have a lot on your mind,’ he said.
‘You’re right,’ she said, ‘I do.’
‘Are you very bothered about Isabella and that fellow, Max?’
She smiled. ‘Does it show very much?’
‘You don’t approve of him, do you?’
‘I have my reasons.’
His elbows resting on the arms of the chair, he laced his hands together in front of him. ‘Were you and he, well . . . you know, an item some time ago?’
Her smile widened. ‘No. Max loved to charm and flirt, but it was no more than a game between us.’
‘No harm in that when you’re young and the sap is rising. But you know, he seems sincere enough around Isabella. To a complete stranger, that is. And I don’t regard myself as being too gullible when it comes to these things.’
‘I agree with you, he does seem to be genuinely concerned about Isabella.’
The clock on the mantelpiece chimed the hour; it was one o’clock.
‘It’s late,’ she said, ‘I suppose we really should go up.’
‘Suddenly I’m not in the least bit tired. Are you?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ she said. ‘Why don’t you put some more coal on the fire, and I’ll pour us some brandy?’
‘I shouldn’t have anything to drink, not given my resolve to keep a cool head around you.’
‘I’m prepared to risk the consequences if you are.’
He smiled. ‘Go on then.’
She fetched two generous measures of brandy from the cabinet where she kept a selection of drinks. They stood in front of the fire and he raised his balloon glass to hers. ‘Happy Christmas to you, Mrs Devereux-Temple,’ he said softly.
‘And a Happy Christmas to you, too, Mr St Clair.’
‘I have a confession to make,’ he said, after they’d both taken a long sip of their drinks.
She eyed him warily. ‘You’re full of confessions, aren’t you?’
‘I’m afraid I’m about to break another promise I made to myself.’
She looked at his face in the soft light cast from the lamp on her desk as well as the glow of the firelight. How handsome he was, and how mesmerising his brilliantly dark eyes were. She put a hand to his cheek, something she had longed to do all evening. But with Isabella and Max around, she had kept herself in check. Now though, just the two of them, her desire for him raged through her.