So, she understood and was making it easier for him to leave. At the stairs, she looked back one last time. “Bon voyage,” she said, dimples like little stars in her cheeks, but the eyes—her eyes—reflected a less happy message. She was as sharply disappointedas he was.
He watched her go up the stairs, the golden tanned legs he remembered so well from only last night, the round hips,the waist—
Evans interrupted. “I think we’d better get ashift on.”
Mrs B gave him a kind smile. “Have a safe journey.” She always bid him goodbye when he left, every single time since hewas a boy.
The choice was taken away from him. Hiding his feelings behind a professional face, he followed the driver out to the horse cart and climbed up on the leather seat.
Evans set a faster pace than usual as they circled towards the private drive. George wanted to turn back and see if Millie was standing at one of the upstairs windows, but too soon the cart reached the main gates. They turned right over the arched stone bridge towards the village road, and the trees hid the housefrom view.
He had the strong impression Millie had something to tell him. Or ask him.
Fields rolled past as the horse clip-clopped along the road. Farmers were out dealing with the damage from the storm. Fallen discovery apples covered the ground in the orchard, they’d destined for cider. Or cooking.
There would be apple pie at the house tonight.
He could call Millie from London, even from Brussels. Would that be good enough? No. Something needed to be discussed face to face.
He watched two women fill wooden crates with the apples, rich yellow flushedwith red.
“Evans?” George’d been struggling with himself from the moment he’d left the house. Now, he settled the dispute.
“Ay?” Evans looked over hisshoulder.
“Can you turn the horse round and take me back? I’ll have to delay another day.”
Later that night
George lay in bed, listening to the antique clock in the gallery.Cuckoo, cuckoo, and then:Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.
He kicked the covers off him and jumped out of bed. Two o’clock in the morning, everyone else should have been long asleep by now; where was Millie? He thought he’d made it very clear—as clear as it could be made with other people around—she was never alone. He hadn’t noticed before because he’d been trying to avoid her, but she seemed popular with absolutely everyone. If she wasn’t busy with his father, somebody in the house wanted her opinion on something, Mrs B needed help, Joanie wanted her to taste something, Liam had aquestion.
Finally, George had gone into the kitchen, pretending he wanted another slice of apple pie, and found Millie with the women finishing off their dinner. So he’d said, louder than was strictly necessary, that he was going to his room and would stay there reading for the rest of the night. He’d made sure to catch and hold Millie’s eye as he spoke. He couldn’t have been clearer without actually miming what was onhis mind.
Fine. If Millie didn’t come to him, he wouldgo to her.
Although, on reflection, best not to be caught coming back in the morning wearing little more than a happy expression. He pulled on his robe and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. The click of the latch sounded loud inthe dark.
He walked the length of the corridor, his feet padding softly, but in the near silence, everything seemed loud: the barely perceptible creak of the wood under his feet, the ticking of the clock. Of both clocks, because the large pendulum downstairs groaned through its swing from side to side. The sound of snoring from his father’s room stopped him just outside the door. He had no idea his father snored, but then he’d never seen his father sleep, not for twenty years. It wasn’t very loud, but the sound travelled through the bedroom door.
George stood in the corridor, a few doors away from Millie’s room, fingering the box of condoms in his pocket. His feet wanted to continue to her. And not only his feet, all of him. He’d never wanted a woman so much inhis life.
He turned back towards hisown room.
He’d thought of nothing but making love to her all day and half the night. But not here, not where they might be overheard. Millie deserved better, and his first night with her should be more than a furtive shag in his father’s house.
He glanced at his wrist watch. The Habring Doppel didn’t glow in the dark like a cheap toy, but the faint starlight from the window picked out the pale platinum markings. Good, three hours to sleep. He knew Millie’s routine—she always went out at five for an early-morning walk. Today, he thought as he closed his bedroom door, shrugged out of his robe and climbed between his sheets, today Millie would not walk alone.
OceanofPDF.com
SEVENTEEN
The Marina, 6am.
“Are you sure we can’t be seen from the house?” Millie shaded her eyes against the early-morning sun climbing slowly over the wooded hill in thedistance.
They were walking on the wide stone wall by the marina at the bottom of the garden.
