‘Nonsense!’ How could he think, even for one second, that his appearance was so revolting that it could give a woman nightmares – and worse still, seem to accept it?
Yes, he had scars, and his nose was broken in two, if not three places. Yes, his voice was hoarse, harsh and raw, and he might not be in the top physical shape he had been before his accident. But he was still strong and incredibly attractive, and one look from his tawny eyes and her heart did somersaults, her skin prickled all over and her thoughts took a decidedly hot and naughty turn. She wasn’t the only one feeling that way either. Brenda and gorgeous Sadie fancied him too – not that she could tell him.
‘The waitress was clumsy, that’s all and—’ she started, but Stefan stopped her with a hard look.
‘It’s all right, Cassie, you don’t need to make excuses for the girl. I don’t resent her for being put off by me, honest… She isn’t the first, and she won’t be the last.’
He looked at his plate, ate a few mouthfuls of steak pie and put his fork down. ‘Just what I thought… It’s good, but not as good as yours.’ He looked up. ‘Are you not hungry?’
‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ She cut a piece of sausage, but her appetite had vanished.
‘By the way, what were you saying earlier about your great-great-aunt Ruth and Hardy’s relative?’
She doubted he really was interested, but it might help him forget the unpleasant episode with the waitress.
‘I recently found out that they were once engaged,’ she replied.
‘Did they ever marry?’
She shook her head. ‘Ruth broke up with him before drowning at Wolf Tarn during the winter of 1919.’
‘She drowned?’ His face seemed paler. It didn’t make sense. Why should he care about one of her ancestors?
‘On Christmas Eve, actually. Everybody believed it was an accident,’ she carried on, ‘but I think she committed suicide.’
He put his knife and fork down. ‘Why would she do that?’
‘She was desperate. Her family had disowned her when the man she loved – a French pilot who was convalescing at Belthorn – abandoned her. I recently got hold of some letters that led me to believe that they had become lovers and planned to elope together. Unfortunately, he returned to Paris to care for his mother who was poorly with the flu. She died, and he too fell ill. The last letter Ruth received was from his sister, who asked her not to write again because André didn’t wish to pursue the relationship. She wrote that André would return her letters unopened… and that’s exactly what he did.’
She shook her head in disgust. ‘The cruel, despicable man seduced her and didn’t even have the courage to break off their liaison himself but asked his sister to do it for him. It must have been devastating for Ruth to receive all the letters she had poured her heart out in and he hadn’t even opened, let alone read. Her body was recovered from Wolf Tarn on Christmas Day, a hundred years ago exactly this year.’
She stopped. It seemed incongruous to talk about Ruth’s death with happy Christmas music playing and people laughing in the background.
Stefan frowned. ‘I think you’re wrong. Vaillant was a good man. Something must have happened that prevented him from coming back to Red Moss.’
She let out a startled laugh. ‘How do you know that? And how do you even know his name?’
‘I found his journal at Belthorn, and from what I’ve been reading, he did mean to marry Ruth. He was planning to come back to Belthorn, that’s why he left his diary behind.’
The diary must be the brown leather-bound book she had seen in the drawing room. ‘How very peculiar that it should fall into your hands,’ she said. ‘Will you let me read it?’
‘Of course, but it’s in French, so I’ll have to translate it for you.’
‘Yes, please, and I’ll show you Ruth’s letters. That way perhaps between the both of us, we can figure out what really happened. It will be like putting together a puzzle.’
‘Talking about puzzles,’ Stefan said, ‘what is the “Guess the Santa” contest everybody is talking about?’
‘It’s a village charity event in aid of the Mountain Rescue Team, like Comedy Night. Someone dresses up as Santa and people put a bet on to guess their identity. If nobody gets it right, all the money collected goes to the mountain rescue charity. Otherwise they split the money.’
‘It sounds like a good plan.’
‘Except that nobody wants to be Santa this year. Mason even suggested that I do it. He said nobody would ever guess it was me.’
Stefan shook his head. ‘I would.’
‘Really? How?’
‘Your perfume. Lemon. Clean. Fresh. Summery. It would be a dead giveaway.’
Her heart sank. ‘Oh. I see. You think I smell of cleaning products.’
He arched his eyebrows. ‘Is that what it is? I like it. Beats expensive French perfume any day.’
He was making fun of her… Her chest tightening, she heaved a shaky sigh and looked down to glance at her watch ostensibly. Better not show that she was upset. After all, she knew what he thought of her. She shouldn’t be surprised that he thought she smelled like a bottle of ecological disinfectant.
‘We’d better have coffee before collecting the props from the warehouse,’ she said, glancing back up.
Stefan reclined against the back of his chair and grinned. ‘Ah yes, the props for the infamous Tarzan and Jane wedding…’
It was a real smile, and the first time he’d looked carefree and unguarded, and she had a glimpse of the man he must have been before his accident. She held her breath as a thousand feelings assailed her. The tips of her fingers tingled with the need to follow the line of his face, run through his brown hair, and rest on his shoulders. She longed to snuggle against his chest, feel the strength of his arms closing around her and the heat of his skin, and hear the beating of his heart… like that time, when she had woken him up and he had pulled her to him.
A sudden thought took her breath away. This physical attraction was confusing, burning, maddening, and felt very much like… infatuation.
She swallowed hard. Was she falling in love with Stefan Lambert?
She glanced up. He was looking at her. His eyes reflected the soft, golden glow of the fire, and a smile still played on his lips. She’d better pull herself together, or he would see right through her, and how mortifying would that be?
‘About Kerry’s wedding on Saturday,’ she started, scrambling through her heated thoughts for something suitable – anything – to say. ‘Don’t worry if you can’t come. It wasn’t fair of me to put you on the spot earlier. You may have other things planned already.’
‘I said I would come… as long as I can keep my shirt and trousers on, and you don’t expect me to perform the Tarzan jungle call, and rescue Jane from the tree tops.’
The image made her sigh. What wouldn’t she give to be Jane and be rescued by Stefan?
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was late afternoon by the time they arrived back at the campsite, but it was so dark by then it could have been the middle of the night. With only a few static caravans and chalets rented out and nearby Monks Water Lake looking like an abyss under the starless sky, the campsite had the look and feel of a ghost town. The pebbly beach and the jetty were deserted, and the tarpaulin covering the rental kayaks flapped noisily in the cold wind. The restaurant was shut for the winter, and only a handful of lights from houses dotted the shoreline.