Michelle Douglas - A Deal To Mend Their Marriage

‘Certainly not.’

In his youth, Paul had trained as a chef. With the help of an army of maids, who came in twice a week, Paul had kept this house running single-handed for nearly thirty years. Although, as her father had rarely entertained, the position hadn’t been a demanding one.

When she was a child she’d spent most of the year away at boarding school. So for nearly fifteen years—before her father had married Barbara—it had just been her father and Paul rattling around together in this big old house.

Some sixth sense—a hyper-awareness that flashed an odd tingling warmth across her skin—informed her that Jack stood in the shadows of a large rhododendron bush to her left. It took all her strength not to turn towards it. She’d wanted to let Paul in on their plan—his help would have been invaluable, and for a start she wouldn’t be tiptoeing through the house in the dark, unlatching doors—but Jack had sworn her to secrecy.

And as he happened to be the surveillance expert...

She reached Paul’s side and drew him to the right, away from Jack, pointing up at the steepled roofline. ‘Did you know that one night, when I was ten, I walked all the way along that roofline?’

Paul glanced up and pressed a hand to his chest. ‘Good grief!’

‘I’d read a book about a cat burglar who’d made his way across London by jumping from roof to roof.’

‘Tell me you didn’t?’ Paul groaned.

She laughed. From the corner of her eye she saw a shadow slip through the door. ‘Mrs Thomas-Fraser’s Alsatian dog started up such a racket that I hightailed it back to my room before the alarm could be raised.’

‘You could’ve fallen! If I’d know about that back then it would have taken ten years off my life.’

Caro shook her head. ‘I can hardly believe now that I ever dared such a thing. Seriously, Paul, who’d have children?’

He chuckled and patted her shoulder. ‘You were a delight.’

To Paul, perhaps, but never to her father.

‘Come along.’ He drew her into the house. ‘You’ll catch a chill if you’re not careful.’

She wanted to laugh. A chill? It was summer! He was such a fusspot.

‘I don’t suppose I could talk you into joining Barbara and I for dinner?’

‘You suppose right. It wouldn’t be seemly.’

Seriously—he belonged in an England of a bygone age. ‘Oh, I should go and lock the other door.’

‘I’ll take care of it.’

To insist would raise his suspicions. ‘Paul, do we have any headache tablets?’

He pointed to a cupboard.

When he’d gone, she popped two tablets and unlatched the kitchen door—just in case. This sneaking around business was not for the faint-hearted.

* * *

Barbara sliced into her fillet of sole. ‘Caroline, do I need to remind you that if your father had wanted me to inherit any portion of his estate, he’d have named me in his will?’

Caro swallowed. ‘You only call me Caroline when you’re cross with me.’

Barbara’s gaze lifted.

‘I didn’t know he was going to do this, Barbara. I swear. I wish he’d left it all to you.’

Her stepmother’s gaze lowered. She fiddled with the napkin in her lap.

‘And if he had left it all to you,’ Caro continued, ‘I know you’d have made sure that I received a portion of it.’

‘Of course—but that’s different.’

‘How?’

‘This money has been in your family for generations. It’s your birthright.’

Twaddle. ‘I mean to give Paul a generous legacy too. He’ll need a pension to see him through retirement.’

‘That man’s a rogue. I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t weaselled enough bonuses out of your father over the years to see him through two retirements.’

‘Even if he has, he’ll have earned every penny.’

The other woman’s gaze narrowed. ‘You and your father—you never could find any common ground. You didn’t understand each other. You never brought out the best in him. And—you’ll have to forgive me for saying this, Caro, darling—you were never at your best when you were around him either.’

Caro opened her mouth to dispute that, then shot her stepmother a half smile. How could Barbara still defend him after he’d treated her so shabbily? ‘Okay, I’ll concede that point.’

Where was Jack at this very moment? Was he in Barbara’s room, scanning its every hiding place? Had he found the snuffbox yet?

The thought of Jack prowling about upstairs filled her with the oddest adrenaline rush—similar to the one she’d had as a ten-year-old, when she’d inched across the mansion’s roof. It made her realise how boring her life had become.

Not boring! Predictable.

She stuck out her chin. She liked predictable.

‘Caro?’

She snapped her attention back to Barbara.

‘You had the oddest look on your face.’

Jack had always had that effect on her. ‘Just trying to work out the morass that was my father’s mind. And yours.’

‘Mine?’ Barbara set her fork down. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

‘If our situations were reversed you’d be happy to share my father’s money with me. Why aren’t you happy for me to share it with you?’

Barbara picked up her clutch purse and rose. ‘I find my appetite has quite fled. I really don’t wish to discuss this any further.’

Caro nearly choked on her sole. Jack! If Barbara should happen to find him in her room...

‘Please don’t go! I—’ She took a hasty sip of water. ‘I’m tired of feeling lonely in this house.’

Barbara’s face softened. She lowered herself back to her chair. ‘Very well—but no more talk about your father and his money.’

‘Deal.’ Caro did her best to eat her new potatoes and green beans when all the while her stomach churned.

Please be careful, Jack.

She glanced over at her stepmother. ‘Paul tells me you’ve barely been out of the house lately? Don’t you think you should get out more? Being cooped up like this can’t be good for you.’

Barbara sent her a tiny smile. ‘On that subject we happen to be in complete agreement, darling. Lady Sedgewick has invited me down to their place in Kent this very weekend. She’s having a house party. I thought I might accept her invitation.’

‘Oh, yes, you should! The Sedgewicks are a lovely family. I was at school with Olivia. Do go. You’ll have a lovely time.’

It was beyond time that Barbara started enjoying herself again.

* * *

Caro tiptoed into her room ninety minutes later. ‘Jack?’ she whispered into the darkness, before clicking on the light.

Her room was empty. She tried to crush the kernel of disappointment that lodged in her chest. He hadn’t said that he’d wait for her in her room. She’d just assumed he would. She checked her phone for a text.

Nothing.

Maybe he’d sent her an email?

She was about to retrieve her laptop when a shadow on the far side of the wardrobe fluttered and Jack detached himself from the darkness. Her mouth went dry and her heart pounded. She tried to tell herself it was because he’d startled her, but she had a feeling her reaction was even more primal than fear.

Dressed in close-fitting jeans and a black turtleneck sweater, Jack looked dark, dangerous and disreputable.

Delicious, some part of her mind pronounced.

She wanted to tell herself to stop being ridiculous, but ‘delicious’ described him perfectly. What was ridiculous was the fact that every atom of her being should swell towards him now, with a hunger that robbed her of breath.

But why was it ridiculous—even after five years? It had always been this way between them.

Yes, but five years ago he’d broken her heart. That should make a difference.