Well, Laura was a nice girl and she had an easy smile which she offered generously whether it was deserved or not. One of those people for whom smiling came easy. She and Liam were a match made in heaven.
Adam shrugged. Time to move off the subject. Reaching for his notes, he busied himself entering the test results and his assessment.
Lord M, though, wasn’t finished. “Sadly, she’s the last thing our gentle Liam needs.”
A gust of wind shook the windowpane. “Cold day,” Adam said. “Shall I bring you a blanket?”
“In my day, she’s what we used to call a wild filly.” Clearly it was going to take more than weather to drag him off the subject. “A girl who needed a strong hand to tame her. You can see it in her eyes behind the meek polite answers, there’s a flame that won’t go out. Liam, nice chap that he is, doesn’t stand a chance.”
Adam privately disagreed. Lord M may have had his fair share of women in the past. If the gossip around the breakfast table was reliable, he’d had several men’s shares of women. On the other hand, an obstetrician-gynaecologist saw a lot of women – usually when they most needed help.
His impression of Laura told him that underneath the confidence, she was vulnerable, too anxious to please, just the kind of woman to allow herself to be bullied. Just this morning, she’d stood here like a trapped bird as Lord M told her how to do her job.
A woman like her needed protection.
The thought hit him like a punch to the diaphragm. What was he thinking? Whatin hellwas he thinking? Who did he think he was, Sir Lancelot?
Adam turned from Lord M and pretended to pack away his medical bag.
Women didn’t need a man’s protection, and he, especially, had no business protecting any woman of any kind. Hadn’t he learnt anything?
Chapter Ten
Laura’s workroomwas at the far end of the south corridor where the house came to a sort of rounded end. She like to call it the tower because from the outside, viewed from the right angle it looked like a tower attached to the old chateau. It was roughly circular with windows on three sides which let in a lot of light. Whatever sun the day offered would be visible from one of the windows. Perfect for a workroom. It was a long way down to the kitchen, but Laura didn’t mind going down for meals. Mrs B had offered to bring her up a tray. Nicole, who considered herself too important to eat with ‘the staff,’ always had a tray in her office.
Adam always took a packed lunch and went for long walks. She’d seen him out of her third-floor window, walking down to the marina and disappearing below the harbour wall then coming back later with damp hair. Perhaps he lost his footing and fell into the sea, every time. Or perhaps he’d come upon a hidden waterfall. Either way, it mean he was never in the kitchen for lunch.
So, with thebad cop-bad cop, away, Laura really enjoyed going down at midday, sitting round the unpolished huge table near the AGA and exchanging a friendly gossip with the women.
Now, back in her room, she was just getting into her painting when there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” She looked up from the leaf she was painting on the silk square in front of her. She expected it to be Mrs B or Pierre, but when the door opened it was Dr Cold Shoulder himself.
“Hello, may I come in?” he asked, already coming in. Clearly in his world, no one ever said no.
Laura was in leggings and a red tee-shirt, both slightly spattered with paint, but if he thought she was going to rush to change clothes and welcome him, he had another ‘think’ coming. She said nothing, just sat still, her brush in hand and watched him.
“Erm…” He cleared his throat. “You’re working?”
No, I’m milking a cow. Can’t you tell?
Hoping he might realize she was busy and leave her alone, she glanced down at the various samples of painted fabric in front of her. The long, slim brush in her hand was wet with orange colour.
He gave a half nod. His eyes settled briefly on her paint splattered tee-shirt, which had slid slightly off one shoulder, then he looked away. He even walked away towards the large window overlooking the marina.
The room was warm as a greenhouse. Despite the chill breeze outside which blew the tops of trees, the sky was a clear, bright blue, and the sun streamed through the glass. Moments passed with Adam just standing at the window looking out, his back to her.Seriously, spirit world? He’s now seeking me out in my own room so he can ignore me?
Fine! Two could play at that game.
She turned back to her work. She’d been trying out different paints on different fabric samples before deciding on the perfect fabric to order, so the large table was covered in partially finished pieces. She touched the tip of the brush to the centre of the flower she’d been trying to recreate. The island was full of those, mauve daisies with a yellow-orange centre. The trick was to keep the painted version small; too much paint caused the fine fabric to drag. She’d been alternating two or three mauve brushstrokes with one pale orange. It wasn’t an accurate image, but this was fashion not a botanical diagram.
“Erigeron glaucus,” Adam said from right behind her, making her hand jump.
“Excuse me?”
He indicated the flower she’d been trying to paint. “They’re all over the island here. You can see them from the window.” He turned back to show her.
Before she realized it, her body had swivelled slightly in her chair to watch where he pointed at the cliffs carpeted with mauve growing between rocks and green grasses.
