Lucy had wandered off to play with the kids, and for a moment his eyes lingered between the two of them, musing on how physically different they were. Blonde and vivacious stacked against brunette and wary.
From across the room, Tessa caught that look as his eyes followed Lucy thoughtfully. He was comparing them. She read that as clearly as if he had it written in large script across his forehead. Comparing and contrasting. Or perhaps just contrasting. She couldn’t remember a time when she had been jealous of Lucy. Lucy was Lucy and her stream of boyfriends and adoring admirers had been a source of amusement for Tessa but nothing else. But now jealousy filled her like a poison and she closed her eyes for a few fleeting seconds. When she opened them it was to find that Curtis had bridged the space between them and was standing by her, gazing down from his great height.
‘Oh!’ Tessa said, flustered that she had been speculating about him and now here he was, as if he had read her thoughts and decided to wander over to find out more. ‘You’re back.’
‘Back?’
‘From having a look at Lucy’s portfolio. What did you think of her work?’ She turned to the colonel and began explaining what her sister did, taking much longer with the explanation than was necessary, just to garner some self-control, while Curtis stood and stared down at her.
The colonel made one or two jocular remarks about his lack of artistic talent, his admiration for anyone who knew what to do with some charcoal or a paintbrush, and then excused himself to check up on Isobel, make sure she hadn’t collapsed from overexertion. Which left her all alone with Curtis.
He sat down in the colonel’s chair. When he spoke, his voice was normal enough but his blue eyes were watchful and assessing. Assessing what? Assessing how she would react to his budding involvement with her sister? The sickening, faint feeling that had plagued her since she had first overheard that conversation was replaced by a dead, still, cold calm.
He was asking her something about whether she was having fun. Tessa nearly laughed aloud at that one.
‘Absolutely,’ she said neutrally. ‘Your relatives are all so nice and it’s great seeing Anna again. She looks wonderful.’
‘In her twenty-first-century clothing.’ Curtis grinned, trying unsuccessfully to drag her from her zoned-out state. ‘I think she’s done a ritual burning of the old-fashioned frocks and Alice bands.’
‘She hasn’t, has she?’ Tessa gasped, momentarily distracted, and he laughed and touched her cheek with one brown finger.
‘I hope not. Those clothes cost quite a bit. I’ve told her that the least she could do is give them to charity. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that she doesn’t interpret that as free rein to go and buy whatever she wants in the expectation that I now have no right to object.’
Where he had touched her had left a hot, stinging trail. It was all she could do not to wipe it away with the back of her fist.
‘I’m sure she’s far too sensible to do that,’ Tessa said obligingly, and he gave her another quick, frustrated look from under his lashes.
‘Tessa, what’s goi—’
‘Lord, is that the time?’ she interrupted quickly, before he could start on any difficult conversations. ‘Work tomorrow. We really must go. I wonder if your mother needs any help with the clearing up?’
‘No, she definitely doesn’t need any help with any clearing up,’ he grated, catching her by her wrist as she began to stand. ‘She might insist on doing all the cooking but she does relent when it comes to the aftermath. She has people come in to do that for her. We’ve barely exchanged two words all day, do you realise that?’
‘It’s difficult at something like this,’ Tessa said on a note of desperation. Caught in mid-motion, she didn’t know whether to sit back down or wrestle her hand out of his vice-like grip. ‘So many people around,’ she elaborated vaguely.
‘You should try my mother’s New Year’s Eve parties.’ Curtis relaxed enough to grin. ‘Always starts small, just a few close friends, and by the time December the thirty-first has come round, the few close friends has always managed to swell into eighty-odd and counting. We have to talk. There’s something I need to tell you…’ The grin got a little wider and Tessa felt panic hit her like a fist right in her stomach. She just knew, with sudden foreboding, that somewhere in his next sentence her sister’s name would be mentioned.
‘It’s about Lucy…’
CHAPTER NINE
REFLECTING back, Tessa was amazed that those three little words, unintentionally aimed straight at her heart, hadn’t resulted in an immediate breakdown. Right there, half standing, half sitting, with Curtis’s firm hand closed over her wrist. In fact, her utter composure had been a great reminder to her that she would be able to get through this and put it behind her. An ability to keep up appearances was everything. After all, didn’t you eventually believe the myths you started creating about yourself? Show the world that you were strong, that you hadn’t been hurt, and sooner or later you would find yourself no longer having to pretend.