Naive Awakening Read online

  He had raised them ever since her parents had died in a plane crash when she was a child, and she had never once begrudged taking over the job of caring for him as he became older.

  Now this suave outsider, because he was an outsider even though he had spent part of his life here, was beginning to addle her, beginning to make her think of things beyond the Yorkshire boundaries. Made her feel hot and defensive, although she couldn’t quite put a finger on why he should be able to do so.

  He was remarking on shops which were still around from his boyhood days, and she said sweetly, ‘You wouldn’t be so amazed at all this if you had made an effort to come back here now and again.’

  Nicholas turned to face her. ‘Outspoken, aren’t you?’

  ‘We all are in this part of the world.’

  As though to prove her point, Mrs Evans, the middle-aged lady who ran the post office with her husband, came up to them, and greeted her.

  ‘Aren’t you going to introduce us, lass?’ she asked, looking at Nicholas with interest.

  ‘Nicholas Reynolds,’ Leigh said reluctantly. ‘He came here to help with Freddie.’

  ‘Oh, yes. He was a bit off the rails, your Freddie, wasn’t he? Jacob would be turning in his grave. Nicholas Reynolds—Reynolds, name rings a bell…’

  Nicholas gave her one of his charming smiles.

  Leigh, looking at him, was suddenly struck by his attractiveness, his masculinity. He was, she thought with shock, more than simply attractive, he was sexy. What must he think of her? Of course, she couldn’t care less, but even so she must appear a complete peasant to him.

  She had dressed informally because of the weather, and was wearing only a summery cotton skirt in shades of blue and purple, and a short-sleeved jersey with buttons down the front. She wore no make-up, and had plaited her waist-length hair into a French braid which hung down her back.

  No wonder he had looked disapprovingly at her as though she were a schoolgirl, barely older than sixteen-year-old Freddie, instead of the twenty-three-year-old woman that she was.

  He was probably accustomed to a quite different type of woman. Even looking at him, any fool would know that he moved in that rarified world of the wealthy and powerful. The women who inhabited that world were no doubt as sophisticated and urbane as he was, leggy blondes with impeccably made-up faces and smiles that never quite reached their eyes.

  Leigh pursed her lips defensively, determined not to try and pretend to be anything other than what she was.

  He was chatting amiably to Mrs Evans, and the older woman was responding to his charm with blushing smiles and coy motions of protestation when he told her that he remembered her well from his youth, and that she hadn’t aged a bit.

  ‘Isn’t he terrible?’ she said, turning to Leigh. ‘Hasn’t he grown up into a fine-looking young man, and such a charmer!’

  Leigh hoped that Mrs Evans was not expecting any sort of response to her observations, but just in case she was she said succinctly, ‘He seems pretty much the same to me. Just older. As for his charm, I’m immune to it. I remember too clearly when he used to tease me.’

  ‘I don’t remember teasing you,’ Nicholas murmured to her, after Mrs Evans had left.

  ‘You used to derive a great deal of pleasure from pulling my hair.’

  ‘Well, it doesn’t seem to have done it any harm. It’s still as long and silky as I remember.’

  Leigh blushed bright red and told herself to get her act together. He might have some kind of charm, but he could forget it if he thought that he could use it on her. She might be a country girl, but that didn’t mean that she was a gullible idiot.

  She led him towards the coffee-shop, waiting impatiently while Mr Baird, who owned it, accosted her in a very similar manner to Mrs Evans. He too regarded Nicholas with undisguised interest, and Leigh fervently hoped that the scrutiny went some way to making him feel out of place. Though, she thought, eyeing him from under her lashes, it didn’t seem to. He seemed as at home with these rugged, kindly people as she herself was.

  She childishly thought it wasn’t fair.

  ‘I’m glad we’re here alone,’ he said, as they waited for their coffee and cakes. Mr Baird’s wife baked all the cakes herself and Leigh could never resist the opportunity of having one. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you about, and it’ll be easier without Freddie around.’ Something in his voice made her look at him warily.

  ‘If you’re going to lecture me about Freddie’s brush with the law,’ she began haughtily, ‘then you might as well forget it. I’m fully aware that what he did was wrong, and, believe it or not, so is he. He’s never done anything like this before, and he won’t again. He’s just gone off the rails a bit since Grandad died. They were very close. You don’t have to tell me that I’m going to need to take a firm hand with him, because that’s exactly what I intend to do. In fact, I’d be doing it now if I weren’t here instead, taking a trip with you down memory lane.’

  So there, she implied.

  Nicholas leaned back in the small chair, his broad frame looking absurdly out of place on the fragile wooden structure, and watched her impassively.

  ‘Quite a speech,’ he drawled with infuriating calm, not in the least put out by her insinuation that he was somehow wasting her time, ‘but as a barrister I’ve seen all too well how young boys like Freddie can wind up in gaol, and, believe me, speeches and good intentions can get lost in the wind very easily.’

  He looked at her thoughtfully, and when he spoke his voice was polite but hard. ‘I fully appreciate that it must be difficult for you—you’re scarcely out of childhood yourself—but don’t lull yourself into believing that things like this can get swept under the carpet after a strong talking-to.’

  Leigh looked at him speechlessly. How dared he waltz into their lives and start preaching to her about Freddie’s upbringing?

  ‘Are you suggesting that I’m not competent enough to look after my brother?’

  ‘Did I say that?’

  ‘Please don’t play these verbal games with me,’ she said, making an effort to modulate her voice.

  ‘All right,’ he replied smoothly, ‘then let me ask you this; what do you intend to do with him now?’

  Leigh frowned and had an uneasy feeling that she was being ushered into a trap. ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ she said at last. ‘I intend to give him a sound ticking off, and keep my eye on him to make sure that he doesn’t get into any more trouble. Although, as I said, I think he’s learnt a lesson from this. Freddie’s no fool. I can’t see him doing this sort of thing again in a hurry. He’ll listen to me. He won’t end up in gaol!’

  ‘You mean, that’s what you hope. Tell me something; did you have any idea that he would be involved in this sort of incident?’

  ‘Well, I know that he hadn’t exactly been disciplined since Grandad died, but—’

  ‘And you really think that you can remedy that problem?’

  ‘Yes, I do!’ Her cheeks were flaming, and she stood up, quite prepared to walk out of the shop and to hell with any need to be grateful and polite.

  ‘Sit back down,’ he grated, and his words held enough of a command in them for her to reluctantly obey.

  ‘You can’t tell me how to run my life,’ she muttered mutinously.

  ‘I don’t need to,’ he said smoothly. ‘The mere fact that I’m here says it all, don’t you agree?’

  There was very little that she could say to that, but the sheer logic of what he had just said didn’t stop her from feeling furiously angry. Angry at his arrogance, at his assumption that he could write off all her efforts with her brother without so much as an apology, and particularly angry at the way that he had somehow found precisely the right crack in her armour to render her defenceless.

  Ever since Freddie’s arrest she had been plagued by self-doubts and by her anxiety at realising that her attempts to stabilise him after their grandfather’s death had clearly failed.

  But the last thing
she needed was Nicholas Reynolds reminding her of the fact in that patronising tone of voice.

  ‘Well, then,’ she said frozenly, ‘what do you suggest I do? Keep him chained to his bed as a lesson in discipline?’

  ‘I suggest,’ he said in measured tones, ‘that you leave Yorkshire.’

  Mr Baird had brought them a plateful of home-made cakes, and she bit into one, eyeing him defensively over the pink icing.

  ‘What?’ she asked, not sure that she had heard correctly.

  ‘Leave Yorkshire.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ she bit out sarcastically, ‘perhaps we could rob a bank and spend the proceeds recuperating on the French Riviera. I hate to sound rude, Mr Reynolds—’

  ‘Nicholas, please. After all, it’s not as though we don’t know each other.’

  She ignored his interruption. ‘But I resent you swanning up here with a bag full of good intentions and telling me how to run my life here. I have a good job at the library, and Freddie will settle down.’

  ‘And what if he doesn’t?’

  Leigh almost choked on a mouthful of coffee. Just who did this man think he was anyway? Was he daring to tell her how to run her life? What right did he think he had?

  Freddie was her responsibility, and she wasn’t going to have anyone preaching to her on her suitability as his guardian.

  He clicked his tongue impatiently. ‘For God’s sake, stop acting as though I’m the big, bad wolf who has nothing better to do than pick on you.’

  Leigh’s blue eyes stormily met his cool grey ones. She didn’t care for this man one jot, even as a boy he had managed to get under her skin, so why was she even listening to him as though she were being cross-examined in a witness box instead of sitting in Mr Baird’s coffee-shop?

  ‘What,’ he continued implacably, ‘do you, for instance, intend to do about Freddie’s education?’

  ‘He’s just sat his exams, and he’ll be leaving school…’

  ‘And do you think that’s fair? He’s a bright boy; what will he be leaving school to do? He told me that he would like to go on to specialise in cabinet-making, but that he didn’t know whether he would be able to or not.’

  ‘He told you that?’

  ‘Yes,’ Nicholas informed her.

  Leigh surveyed him in silence. Right at this instant, it was a good thing that Freddie wasn’t around, because she could quite happily have strangled him.

  She knew what he wanted well enough, but money was tight, and she had guiltily thought that he had accepted the fact. She had discussed it with him, and told him that he could do whatever he wanted after he had worked for a while and got some money together. It was the only thing she could think of.

  How could he just go and pour out all their personal problems to a stranger?

  God knew what else he had told this aggravating Mr Know-it-all.

  ‘There’s not much chance of that, not just at the moment. Maybe some time in the future.’

  ‘Because of your financial situation.’

  Leigh nodded reluctantly. ‘Grandad’s money will really only help to keep the cottage running. It needs some pretty expensive repairs which we had all been putting off for a while, and which can’t be postponed for much longer. The roof needs work doing on it, I really would like to get some central heating put in, it needs repainting on the outside…’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘The list goes on.’

  ‘More or less,’ she shrugged, hating the admission and thinking of all the other million and one things that still needed doing around the place, ‘but we can manage. With my salary, we should be able to muddle along.’

  ‘And what about you? Are you going to be happy just muddling along?’

  There it was: that underlying criticism that made her feel somehow inadequate. If that was all he had to say, then she sincerely wished that he would just shut up. Did he really think she was depriving her brother of what he wanted through some perverted sense of enjoyment?

  ‘I don’t see where all this is leading, Mr Reynolds. Oh, sorry,’ she said with honeyed insincerity, ‘Nicholas. I can’t change the way things are at the moment, so if I have to accept us just muddling along for the time being, then I will.’

  ‘Have you thought about trying to change things?’

  ‘Have you thought about not sticking your nose into other people’s business?’

  She felt a heel as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but she couldn’t take them back, so she looked down at her empty coffee-cup, refusing to meet his eyes.

  ‘I’ll choose to ignore that statement, though I’d like to remind you that I’m only here at all at my grand-father’s request,’ he said with silky smoothness, and she didn’t answer. She had known from the very first moment that she had set eyes on Nicholas Reynolds that he was a force to be reckoned with, but she had not known to what extent.

  He was forcing her to face a few things which she would have been much happier ignoring for the time being, and she didn’t care for it one little bit

  The fact that he was worlds apart from her only served to make things worse.

  She glared at him, very tempted to tell him that he could choose to ignore it or not, it really didn’t matter to her. Instead she said in as controlled a voice as she could muster, ‘What do you suggest? I can’t change the way things are, I just have to cope the best that I can.’

  She glared at him, highly annoyed that he had managed to nettle her when she should just have ignored everything he had to say. True, she was outspoken, but that was simply the way of the world around here. She was not normally given to shouting matches, and she found it infuriating that he was bringing out this side of her.

  From behind the counter Mr Baird was looking in her direction with open curiosity. Now, she thought, it would be all around the village that she had had an argument with the lawyer from London, and what on earth could it be about?

  She forced herself to smile at Nicholas.

  ‘When will you be heading back? You never said.’

  It was an obvious switch in the conversation, and one which he ignored totally.

  ‘I’ve spoken with your solicitor about your financial state of affairs, and you’re finding it difficult to make ends meet, aren’t you? Admit it, that cottage of yours is falling down around your ears, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s privileged information,’ Leigh gasped, horrified.

  ‘I persuaded your solicitor that it was in your interests not to keep me in the dark about your state of affairs.’

  ‘How thoughtful of you. So now that you’ve discovered what a wicked guardian I am, and how desperately badly off we are, you can climb into that expensive car of yours and clear off back to London. I’m of course very grateful for everything you’ve done, for putting yourself out, but, before you tell me yet again that we both need a change of scenery, we can’t afford it. As you have already found out for yourself.’

  She had the awful feeling that everything private in her had just been scooped out and held up for public ridicule. Now all she wanted was to go back to the cottage and put any memories of this man to the very back of her mind.

  ‘Not so simple, I hate to disappoint you.’ He signalled to Mr Baird to bring them a fresh pot of coffee, and asked her whether she wanted any more cake.

  She had already eaten three, but she nodded and asked Mr Baird if he could bring her one of his wife’s special custard-filled eclairs. She felt as though she needed it.

  ‘Are you normally such a voracious eater?’ he asked curiously. ‘No, don’t tell me, it’s the fresh country air. Unlike all that dirty smog you get in London, which has everyone turning away from food and walking around with sallow, pale complexions.’

  Another injection of comic relief, she thought sourly. At my expense.

  ‘Hilarious,’ Leigh said.

  ‘Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes, I can’t leave just yet, because you’re quite wrong. I didn’t only drive here so that I could help your brother.’
>
  ‘Really.’ She watched him with a nervous sensation in the pit of her stomach and wondered where all this was leading.

  ‘No. You see, my grandfather was horrified when he learnt about Freddie’s trouble. He and your grandfather, as you know, were very close. In fact, my grandfather considered Jacob one of his few true friends, someone who liked him for reasons that had nothing whatsoever to do with his title, or his money. He often said that Jacob was the only man who never hesitated to give him a lecture if he thought that it was necessary.’

  Leigh felt a lump come to her throat at Nicholas’s words. She knew exactly what he meant. Her grandfather had been a down-to-earth, totally frank, and very caring man. He would never have been impressed by all the superficial paraphernalia which most people judged each other by.

  ‘Anyway,’ Nicholas continued, ‘when my grandfather heard about Freddie, he proposed that not only should I come up here, but that I should bring you both back to London with me so that he could look after both of you.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard.’

  ‘I might have heard,’ Leigh said tersely, ‘but I didn’t believe. Look, I know your grandfather means well, and tell him thanks, but no, thanks. We can manage just fine here on our own. We don’t need charity.’

  ‘There’s no question of charity,’ Nicholas said in a cool voice. ‘My grandfather suggested it because it’s what he wants to do. As for not needing it, from the looks of it, you most certainly do.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Leigh abandoned all attempt to be polite.

  ‘I think it would do you both good to leave Yorkshire for a while. My grandfather would pay for Freddie to go to college to study carpentry, which is what he wants to do, isn’t it?’

  ‘I can’t just pack in my job and go to London. What about Grandad’s cottage? Who’s going to look after it?’

  ‘A caretaker.’

  ‘I can’t accept your grandfather’s offer.’