‘Or Lucy, even,’ Tessa murmured, and when he frowned and leaned forward to catch what she had said, she smiled brightly and nodded in the direction of her sister. ‘I said, here’s Lucy!’
Curtis felt another spark of intense irritation and the uncomfortable feeling that she was somehow getting away, though there was no reason to think that. He would corner her later on, somehow, but in the meantime he smiled as Lucy approached and pulled a low, fabric-covered stool next to them.
‘I always wondered how Boxing Day things were conducted in the houses of the Great and Good,’ she exclaimed, grinning and flopping down on the stool, which was so low that she had to stretch her legs out in front of her at an angle.
‘The Great and Good. Hmm. Not sure too many of my family members would allow me into that particular club, but does it live up to expectations anyway?’
‘An awful lot of hard work, from what I see. Don’t you agree, Tess? I mean, on Boxing Day we normally run to a couple of people, left-over turkey sandwiches and drunken games of charades once we’ve polished off all the chocolates in the house.’
‘Which just goes to show how far apart our worlds are, Luce!’ It was an opportunity too good to pass up. The opportunity to project just the smallest of warnings to her sister that this man was definitely not all he cracked himself up to be. ‘This is Curtis’s reality, even though he does such a brilliant job at being one of the ordinary people!’
Lucy seemed stunned by this observation, but then giggled a little nervously. Curtis looked enraged. Quietly, darkly and silently enraged. Tessa smiled blandly at him, as though there were absolutely nothing wrong in stating the obvious.
She wondered whether she should push the boat out with another ingenuous observation, but those narrowed, furious eyes, so far from the teasing charm that came naturally to him, made her think again. She stood up and excused herself.
‘I’m going to see if I can find your mum,’ she said, scanning the room. ‘If not, I think I’ll corner Anna again. I’ll leave you two to it. Oh, you can have a look at Lucy’s portfolio! She said you were interested in some of the stuff that she was doing!’ If the portfolio had been some kind of ruse, then too bad. Lucy would have to sit through an inspection and suffer any consequent embarrassment.
She saw them exchange a quick look and then Lucy hurried into speech, apologising in advance for the quality of her work but unable to suppress the excitement in her voice.
Tessa slowly walked off, head held high, feeling Curtis’s eyes boring into her from behind.
If she could spend the remainder of the time avoiding him, then she would.
It largely worked out that way. His relatives were all highly sociable people and she found that her foot was an immediate ice-breaker with them. The fact that she worked for Curtis was a further source of conversation, most of it highly entertaining. And Isobel, busy and flustered, was a delight, since Tessa had only ever thought of her as the embodiment of elegance and calm. It was nice to see this big family group, with their long-time friends, enjoying the fact of being together.
From wherever she was in the room, she was aware of Curtis with Lucy, aware of his eyes following her, trying to puzzle out her mood, was even aware when they disappeared for a short while, Lucy with her portfolio under her arm.
She saw them slip away, towards the middle of the afternoon, just when the curtains were being drawn and coffee was being served with liqueurs. Her heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds and she was aware of the catch in her throat as she continued to chat to Anna and Isobel, while her mind swelled with images of what they might be getting up to.
A quick, cursory flick through some pictures and then what…? A kiss? One of those hungry, urgent kisses that she herself had been a victim of? A kiss aimed at catapulting down any barriers? Not that there would be any barriers between them. Lucy wasn’t a barrier kind of girl. Tessa didn’t think there would be any angst-filled questions, any doubts. She had to force herself back into the conversation, but her body was taut when they eventually emerged, both talking urgently together, his dark head inclined to meet her fair one.
Curtis spotted her immediately. She was sitting down on one of the plump chairs, foot resting on a small, velvet-covered footstool, chatting to old Colonel Watson, one of his parents’ friends. For a few seconds he just stared at her, drinking in that calm, serious expression as she listened to whatever George Watson was rambling on about. She had tucked her hair neatly behind her ears, but every time she moved her head some escaped and swished against her cheek and then she would automatically tuck it back into position.