The Cinderella Factor Page 18

  The car coasted silently to a stop beside a gleaming hedgerow. Meticulously, Patrick applied the handbrake and switched off the engine before turning to face her, one arm along the back of her seat. His eyes were dancing.

  ‘You are the love of my life,’ he repeated obligingly. ‘Everyone else knows it. Simon. The Morrisons. Even that damned interfering physiotherapist. It’s extremely irritating to have them all tell me to do what I’ve been trying to do for days.’

  Jo ignored the last part of his remark. Her eyes widened and widened.

  ‘Love of—but you—I—you said—I can’t be,’ she stammered.

  He took her hands between both of his.

  ‘Jo. Listen, my darling. I said a lot of damn silly things. You don’t seem to see it, but I’m not a nice man, you know. I’m cold and arrogant and I don’t give a stuff for the majority of my fellow humans. I wouldn’t take responsibility for Crispin the way you cared for Mark for a million bucks.’

  She had seen the driven, reckless fury in him. ‘I know,’ Jo said softly.

  He looked surprised. ‘Do you? Maybe you do. You know an awful lot in your way, don’t you, Jo?’ He pulled her into his arms. He did not kiss her, but rubbed his face against her soft hair over and over again.

  ‘After I was shot I seemed to be completely powerless. I’d lost my job. I couldn’t adopt Pavli. Couldn’t make anything right that we in the West had done so wrong. I felt that I was a total waste of space in a vile world. And then, that day by the stream…’ his voice softened ‘…I saw you.’

  Jo blushed. She drew herself out of his arms and smoothed back her disarranged hair.

  ‘I remember.’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘I’m glad of that. You looked so—happy. Just playing around in the water. And then you saw that kingfisher and you looked—enchanted. I wanted that. I wanted to feel like that. And I wanted you.’ He paused expectantly.

  Jo blushed harder and held her peace.

  ‘As I think you knew,’ Patrick said, amused.

  She swallowed. ‘I—er—I didn’t realise. I wasn’t very experienced in things like that.’

  ‘No? So why did you run away from me that day?’

  Jo stared at him in some dudgeon. ‘I said I wasn’t experienced. I didn’t say I was a fool. I knew there was something going on—and it was out of my league. Of course I ran.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘I’d been on my own for years. I’d been through some sticky moments. I never really had too much trouble with sex, though. I was too busy surviving. But I knew it had to be handled carefully. And that it was best left alone by people like me.’

  Patrick looked amused and concerned at the same time.

  ‘Why people like you?’

  ‘People,’ Jo explained carefully, ‘with no one to run to if things go wrong.’

  He winced. ‘I was afraid of that. That’s why I was so torn about telling you how I felt. You had nowhere to go if you didn’t feel the same.’

  Jo stared at him. ‘But I did feel the same. I do.’

  The hand on her face stilled. ‘So why didn’t you come to me for help this morning?’ said Patrick, as if he couldn’t get this failure of trust out of his mind.

  ‘I wanted you. You weren’t there. Then I had to do something, fast, and…I wasn’t absolutely sure that it would matter to you,’ Jo said simply. ‘I mean—you’d never said you loved me or anything…’

  Her voice trailed off into silence at his expression.

  ‘What did you say?’ Patrick said in a frozen voice.

  Jo lifted her chin. ‘Don’t start bullying me. It’s true. We made love all night and you never said you loved me. Not once. And I,’ she said with sudden rancour, ‘did.’

  ‘Oh, my darling,’ said Patrick remorsefully. ‘You’re right. What an idiot I’ve been. I should have thought. Told you.’

  ‘Yes, you should,’ Jo said crisply.

  She was beginning to feel a great happiness building up inside her head. But she was not going to admit it yet. ‘You knew I didn’t have experience in that area. You should have realised I’d need a clear message.’

  Patrick smiled straight into her eyes. It was a heady sensation. The happiness was very close to overflowing.

  ‘Then I’ll tell you now,’ he said. ‘You are the love of my life. I don’t want to live any longer without you beside me. I won’t marry any other woman if you won’t have me. I am not good enough for you. But if you’ll marry me I’ll do my best to care for you and love you and not disturb the kingfishers for the rest of our lives. How’s that?’

  ‘Message received, loud and clear,’ said Jo softly. ‘Yes, please. I’d love to marry you.’

  The happiness spilled over. Laughing, she leaned forward and kissed him. He held her as if she were very precious. They kissed for a long time. Then he put her away from him, smoothed the hair out of her eyes with a hand that was not entirely steady, and turned back to the steering wheel.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Jo, suspiciously.

  ‘I’ve told you. My favourite place.’ Patrick sent her a mischievous look as he started the car. ‘Nice and private, with a beautiful view.’

  Jo began to laugh.

  He went on solemnly, ‘I’d like another chance to see that kingfisher. And you might like to swim again. I’ll even join you this time.’

  And so he did. Eventually.

  EPILOGUE

  A YEAR later there was a small ceremony at the château.

  The restored gardens were opened to the public, to support a refugee village in a distant mountain range. The cheerful crowd also paid large sums to be driven round the grounds in one of Patrick Burns’s famous vintage cars. Mrs Burns drove the Bugatti.

  Among the crowds was Mrs Burns’s brother, a budding racing driver by his own account. Also a tall woman with chestnut hair, whose relationship to Mrs Burns was unmistakable. Not just because of her elegant height, either. It was the way she could not take her eyes off her laughing daughter.

  And at the end of the day dashing Patrick Burns strode up to the podium and switched on the microphone. After a welcome, and some words about the village they were supporting, he waved a hand to the turrets behind him, just touched with the first rays of midsummer.

  ‘When my wife first saw this place it was tired. It had seen too much and was falling apart at the seams,’ he said. ‘Rather like me.’

  Much laughter in the crowd.

  Tim from Mercury Television said under his breath, ‘God, he’s good.’

  ‘But she loved it,’ said Patrick Burns. ‘She said it should have pennants flying. So—’

  There was a fanfare. From the turret of the Ladies’ Tower a thin flag unfurled and fluttered bravely in the breeze.

  Patrick stood back and raised his arm. Across the crowd his eyes met Jo’s. The love, the laughter, the total trust were there for all to see.

  ‘My lady’s standard,’ he said.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-5522-0

  THE CINDERELLA FACTOR

  First North American Publication 2006

  Copyright © 2006 by Sophie Weston

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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