An Exception to His Rule(64)

                ‘I mean with you and Damien—I’m not a fool, Harriet,’ Isabel warned. ‘Look, I wasn’t going to say anything but you’re so obviously...upset.’

                Harriet frowned. ‘We wouldn’t suit, that’s all.’

                ‘And that’s why you’ve been working all hours of the day and night and looking all haunted and pale?’ Isabel looked at her sardonically.

                ‘I need to get this job finished,’ Harriet said sharply. ‘It’s really started to drag—I just couldn’t seem to get on top of it! Even the kitchen’s been rebuilt whilst I didn’t seem to be getting much further forward! But I need to put Heathcote behind me and I wish I’d never laid eyes on Damien Wyatt.’

                ‘I’m glad you didn’t say all the Wyatts.’ Isabel stared at her.

                Harriet looked away. ‘I’m sorry. No, of course not you, Isabel. Or Charlie. But, ideally, I’d like to be gone before Damien and Charlie get home from Darwin. Look—’ she turned back to Damien’s aunt ‘—it’s impossible for us to be in the same place now. Believe me.’

                Isabel opened her mouth, hesitated, then said, ‘So you’re not going to do the paintings?’

                ‘I...I...no.’

                ‘How about your brother?’

                Harriet licked her lips. ‘He’s making...progress.’ But of course Brett was at the back of her mind, and how much easier it would be to make ends meet if she did stay on and do the paintings. But all the guilt in the world associated with Brett couldn’t make her stay, not now, not after...

                She sighed inwardly and pushed the plate of fruitcake towards Isabel. ‘I made it to welcome Charlie home,’ she said desolately and stood up abruptly to cross over to the window and stare out at the dismal, rainswept landscape. ‘He loves fruitcake.’

                ‘They’ll be home shortly.’

                * * *

                ‘Autumn has come with a vengeance,’ Brett said.

                Harriet huddled inside her coat and agreed with him.

                They were outside, despite the chill—Brett loved being outdoors whenever he could so she’d pushed him in his wheelchair to a sheltered arbour in the grounds. The breeze, however, had found its way around the arbour and it wasn’t as sheltered as she’d thought it would be.

                ‘I want to show you something,’ he said.

                Harriet looked enquiring and hoped he didn’t notice that she was preoccupied but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She was not only preoccupied but she was trying to dredge up the courage to tell him she was going back to Sydney...

                ‘Here.’ He took the rug she’d insisted on draping over his legs and handed it to her.

                ‘Oh, I’m all right,’ she protested.

                ‘Actually, you look half-frozen,’ he responded with a grin, ‘but all I want you to do is hold it for a couple of minutes.’

                And, so saying, he levered himself out of the wheelchair and, with a stiff, slightly jerky gait but, all the same, walked around the arbour completely unaided and came to stand in front of her.

                Harriet’s mouth had fallen open and her eyes were huge.