Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Over the next week, the Starlings went back and forth to Ansford Keep to visit the new baby. They cooed and admired Abby and Reeve’s new addition, all eager to declare him the sweetest and most handsome baby they had ever seen. Until the next one arrived, of course.
Nigel, in particular, was very excited. Will’s daughter clutched her father’s leg, peeping around it cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure the baby was real.
Some, like Meg and Molly, offered advice—whether it was asked for or not.
Christine spent some time there as well, but she had no practical advice to offer, so once again she busied herself arranging meals and tending to any crises that came up.
At least that way she felt she was being useful.
Zek Nash paid his respects now and again.
He and Reeve had business to discuss, after all.
Now that Christine realised they were involved in helping places like Allingham Farm, she felt she better understood their connection.
She did not have any private conversations with Zek, but there were moments they shared together.
Catching his eyes over the dinner table, seeing the faint twist of his lips as he gazed back at her.
Questions asked as a part of dinner conversation, polite and yet with undercurrents.
The experience left her feeling warm and flustered, as if he had kissed her again.
And despite what she had said before, she wanted him to kiss her again.
All that changed one sultry afternoon. Storm clouds were on the horizon, and Zek had arrived with his sister.
“I hope you don’t mind,” he said to Reeve at the front door. “Izzy tells me she is bored and asked if she could come.”
Reeve had no problem with this, and suggested the girl make herself at home. “My wife is sleeping,” he said, “but perhaps when she wakes, you can visit her and the baby.”
“Have you chosen a name yet?” Izzy asked. She wasn’t the only one who was curious. So far neither Reeve nor Abby had discussed a name with the rest of the family.
“Abby and I haven’t come to any decision,” he said evasively.
“Not Hamlet, then?” Christine interjected.
That made Reeve laugh, though Izzy didn’t seem to think it was funny.
“My uncle is called Fortunatus,” Zek said. “It means fortunate one. But it is a bit of a mouthful so everyone calls him Nat.”
“I suppose if you’re incapable of deciding, there is always Reeve junior.” Christine suggested. Zek smiled at that.
Had they been alone, more might have happened with him than a brief smile.
But then he and Reeve went off to have another of their business discussions, leaving Izzy behind.
Christine tried to be friendly, asking her questions, but Izzy was having none of it, shooting suspicious glances from dark eyes that were so like her brother’s.
In the end, Christine gave up and set off for the kitchen, only to have Izzy follow her and then stand watching by the doorway.
Christine was helping the cook put the finishing touches to their meal.
She wasn’t much of a chef, but she did know how to make things look pretty.
Satisfied, the cook went to check on an issue with a cream jug, leaving them alone.
That was when Izzy stepped forward, coming so fast and so close that Christine felt genuinely uneasy.
“Zek is just pretending to like you,” she said with a fixed stare. “You know that, don’t you?”
Christine looked at her in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”
Izzy smirked. “He wants to make you feel sorry for the way you treated us before. He always said you should be punished, and now he’s going to do it.”
Christine stared at Izzy for a moment, her mind a blank.
“I never liked you,” Izzy went on. “You were horrible to us when we were younger. Zek is right to punish you.”
“And just how is he going to punish me?” she asked at last, but she had a horrible feeling that she already knew.
“He’s going to make you fall in love with him,” Izzy said with a wicked grin. “And when you confess your love, he’s going to tell you he doesn’t want anything to do with you. Not if you were the last woman in the whole world. He’s going to break your heart. That’s what he’s going to do.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Christine whispered, her voice barely audible.
“I wanted to see the look on your face.”
Christine was still standing, frozen, when Izzy flounced away.
She should be angry. It was a ridiculous notion, and yet... Could it be true? Was Zek playing with her emotions so that he could take revenge on her?
Once upon a time, she would have had no trouble believing it. But lately she felt she had come to understand him better, even to like him. Surely it could not be true?
Or perhaps it was just that she didn’t want it to be true. The kiss they had shared had been special to her. She had felt as if there were possibilities opening up between them. Possibilities she had never thought available to her, especially not with the man she had loathed when he was a boy.
Should she confront him about it? Or should she take the warning for what it was and maintain a safe distance?
The trouble was she didn’t want to. She found she enjoyed seeing him involved with Reeve and the Starlings.
It was as if he were part of her family.
She wanted more of him, and now she didn’t know if she could trust a word he said to her.
At that moment, Molly came into the kitchen. Something must have shown in Christine’s expression or her manner, because she asked anxiously, “Are you well?”
“I’m perfectly well,” Christine said, hiding her confused feelings like the actress she was.
“I think everyone is ready for dinner, but if you don’t feel up to joining us, I am sure they will understand.”
“I am quite well, thank you. Will Abby be joining us?”
“She said she would,” Molly said. “But we’re not to make a fuss of her—her instructions.”
Christine considered that unlikely. The Starlings would swamp her with love, each trying to outdo the other. Besides, Abby deserved to be the star of this show.
The meal was served in the formal dining room.
Everyone had already sat down when Abby arrived, flushed and happy, and glasses were filled and raised, toasting her and the baby.
It was a celebration, filled with chatting and laughter.
But Christine would have enjoyed it so much more if those poisonous words from Izzy’s tongue were not still echoing in her mind.
Could she believe the girl? Was Izzy telling her the truth about her brother or just trying to make her miserable?
A glance down the table showed her the girl in question, glaring in Christine’s direction.
Zek raised a glass, which brought her gaze back to him.
“As you know, Reeve and I have been working hard on our plans for improving the lot of many of our farmers around Barton Lacey, arranging for better transportation to more distant markets. I would just like to say that as of today, the final paperwork has been signed and sent to London. So, a toast to our new business venture.” He smiled at Reeve.
“Let us hope it is as successful as we believe it will be.”
There were murmurs of agreement. Zek caught her eye and smiled. She wanted to smile back, but her face was frozen, her mind warring with itself. The actress in her looked for any signs of a performance from him, rather than genuine emotion.
Zek sipped from his glass, but he was frowning. He could tell something was wrong. Christine turned to Will next to her and began to tell him about her visit with Josh. When she risked a glance at Zek again, he was still watching her, still frowning.
She needed to speak to him, but the truth seemed too intimate.
And what did she expect him to say? Surely he wouldn’t admit it, so any denial from him wouldn’t set her mind at ease.
Perhaps she should turn back the clock and learn to hate him again?
But she feared that was now impossible. She didn’t hate him, she liked him a great deal, and she knew now that it would not have taken much encouragement for her to fall in love with him.
Which, according to Izzy, was exactly what he wanted. The same Izzy who had everything to gain from lying, and almost as much from telling the truth.
After the meal, the ladies retired to the drawing room. Lady Meg busily poured coffee into small cups and handed them out. She had conscripted Izzy to help, to Christine’s quiet amusement, and was instructing the girl on matters of etiquette. At least that kept her busy and away from Christine.
“Christine?” Abby beckoned her over to her comfortable armchair by the large picture window.
Christine took her sister’s hands in hers. “And how is that little boy of yours?” she asked. “I have not held him today.”
“You are welcome to hold him whenever you wish,” Abby assured her. “Apart from in the middle of the night, and I am sure you won’t want to do that anyway!” Abby gestured to the chair beside her. “Do sit down a moment. You have been rushing about all evening.”
Christine sat down beside her. “It’s no trouble. Did you enjoy the dinner?”
“Very much. And thank you. I know you had a lot to do with making it look so special.”
“Your cook didn’t need my help, not really.”
Abby shook her head. “She says otherwise. You were full of interesting ideas.”
“Mostly stolen from some of the restaurants I have visited in London, I assure you.”
“Is this modesty I’m hearing?” Abby said playfully.
“Don’t act so surprised, dear sister. I am not a child any longer.”
“That is certainly true. So, these restaurants you visited. Is this when you were squired about by some important gentleman?” Abby teased.
“When Christina Silk was squired about.”