A Mistletoe Proposal (5 page)

In the kitchen they found Nora, a cheerful, middle-aged woman in a large apron, presiding over a variety of dishes.

‘I hope I didn't make your life difficult, coming unexpectedly,' Pippa said as they were introduced.

‘There's plenty to eat,' Angela said. ‘It's always been one of my husband's maxims that a successful house has food ready all the time.'

Pippa smiled, but she had a strange, edgy feeling. Angela spoke almost as if her husband were still alive.

Nora poured wine and Angela handed them each a glass and raised hers in salute.

‘Welcome to our home,' she said to Pippa. ‘I'm sure you're going to make everything all right.'

It was a charming scene, but it would have been more charming, Pippa thought, if she'd waited for Roscoe to join them. It was a tiny point, but it troubled her.

From the kitchen window, she had a view of the back garden, with a large garage at the far end. As she watched,
Roscoe came out of a side door of the garage and began walking to the house.

‘Here he is,' she said, pointing.

‘Oh, good. I was afraid he'd keep us waiting. Honestly, he can be so inconsiderate.'

Over supper, Angela was on edge, constantly turning an anxious expression on Charlie, then a frowning gaze at Roscoe, as though silently criticising him for something. To Pippa, it seemed as though she'd given all her love to one son and barely registered the existence of the other.

Of course, she argued with herself, Charlie was a vulnerable boy threatened with disaster, while Roscoe was a powerful man, well able to take care of himself. But still…

Charlie's cellphone rang. He went out into the hall to speak to the caller and, as soon as he'd gone, Angela clasped Pippa's hand.

‘You see how he is, how he needs to be cared for.'

‘And he's lucky to have a brother who cares for him,' Pippa couldn't resist saying.

‘Oh, yes, of course there's Roscoe. He does his best, but when I think of what might happen to my darling…maybe prison…'

‘He won't go to prison,' Pippa said at once. ‘It's a first offence, nothing was stolen and nobody was hurt. A fine, and perhaps some community service is the worst that will happen.'

‘But he'll have a criminal record.'

‘Yes, and that's why we're working so hard to defend him.'

‘Oh, if only my husband were here,' Angela wailed. ‘William would know what to do. He always does.'

Roscoe's eyes met Pippa's and a little shake of his head warned her to say nothing. She nodded, feeling all at sea, glad to keep quiet.

‘But you've got me to help, Mother,' Roscoe reminded her.

‘Oh, yes, and you do your best, but it's not the same, is it?'

‘No, it's not the same,' Roscoe said quietly.

‘If only he hadn't gone away. He should be here now that we need him so much.'

Again, she might have been speaking of a living man, and Pippa wondered uneasily just how much she lived in the real world.

As she spoke, Angela fiddled constantly was a ring on her left hand. It was an engagement ring, with an awesome central diamond, surrounded by smaller diamonds.

‘That's my engagement ring,' Angela said, seeing her glance. ‘It was much too expensive and William couldn't really afford it in those days, but he said that nothing was too much for me. All these years later, I still have it to remind me that his love never died.' Her voice shook.

Pippa was uncertain where to look. Angela's determination to thrust her emotion on everyone was difficult to cope with, even without knowing that it was misplaced.

Charlie returned after a moment, bearing a cup of tea which he set before his mother.

‘Why, darling, how kind of you to think of me!' She turned to Roscoe. ‘Isn't Charlie a wonderful son?'

‘The best,' Roscoe agreed kindly. ‘Now, drink up, and have plenty of sugar because that always does you good.'

‘Here,' Charlie said, spooning sugar madly into the cup. His mother beamed at him.

So the spoilt child got all the credit, Pippa thought, while Roscoe, who was genuinely working hard to ease her troubles, was barely noticed.

Then she reproved herself for being over-emotional. Roscoe was only doing what was sensible, supporting his mother and Charlie so that the family should not disintegrate. The idea
that he might be saddened by being relegated to the shadows of Angela's affection was too sentimental for words. And if there was one thing Roscoe was not, it was sentimental.

And neither was she, she reminded herself.

Nonetheless, she couldn't help warming to him for his generosity and patience.

A little later Angela went away into the kitchen, and she seized the chance to tell Charlie about Ginevra. He was reluctant to believe the worst, but Pippa was firm, saying, ‘I don't want you to contact her unless I say so. Give me your word.'

‘All right, maybe I was a bit mad but she made my head spin.'

‘Well, it's time to stop spinning. Mr Havering, do you have a computer here that I could use?'

‘It's upstairs,' Roscoe said. ‘I'll show you.'

‘Beware,' Charlie warned. ‘He's taking you up to his bedroom, a place where no sensible woman goes.'

‘Cut it out,' Roscoe advised him wearily. ‘Miss Jenson, I hope you know you have absolutely nothing to fear from me.'

‘That's not very flattering,' Charlie protested illogically.

‘Unflattering but sensible and businesslike,' Pippa said. ‘Mr Havering, let me return the compliment by declaring that I too am entirely free from temptation. Now, shall we go?'

‘I'll come too,' Charlie declared. ‘To protect you.'

‘I need no protection,' she declared firmly. ‘Ask your brother how I deal with troublesome men.'

Charlie's eyes widened. ‘Hey, he didn't—?'

‘No, I didn't,' Roscoe said, exasperated. ‘But I witnessed the fate of someone who did. Take it from me, you wouldn't like it. Stay here and look after Mother.'

Roscoe's room was much as she would have expected—full of straight lines, plain, unadorned, unrevealing. The bed was
narrow and looked hard, the wallpaper was pale grey, without pattern. There was a television, modest, neat, efficient; a set where a man would watch the news. A monk could have lived in this room.

But his real home was an apartment elsewhere, she reminded herself. She wondered if that was any different, and doubted it.

But then she saw something that made her stare and gasp with delight.

‘Wow!' she breathed. ‘How about that? Let me look at it. Can you just—? Yes, that's right. Oh, it's the most beautiful thing I've ever—yes—yes—yes—' Her hands were clasped in sheer ecstasy, her voice full of joy, her eyes glowing with blissful satisfaction.

Roscoe regarded her, fascinated. It wasn't his first sight of a beautiful woman in transports—in his arms, sometimes in his bed.

But this one was looking at his computer.

A touch of the switch had caused the machine to flower into glorious life, making her watch, riveted, as one state-of-the-art accessory after another leapt into the spotlight.

‘Oh, goodness,' she breathed. ‘Why haven't I ever—? I've never even heard of some of these.'

‘One of my clients owns a firm that makes software and computer peripherals,' Roscoe said. ‘He's at the cutting edge and I get everything ahead of the game. I'll tell him you're interested and I'm sure he'll fix you up.'

‘Oh, yes,
please
! And look at the size of that screen, the biggest I've ever seen.'

‘You should try one,' Roscoe said. ‘It's useful for having multiple documents open at once.'

‘Ah, yes,' she murmured. ‘Useful. How do I go online?'

He touched a switch and in a moment she'd connected with her work computer, entered the password and brought up a
list of documents. A few more clicks brought Ginevra's face to the screen just as Charlie entered the room.

‘Hey, that's her!' he exclaimed. Then he stared at the caption. ‘But who's Biddy Felsom?'

‘She is,' Pippa said. ‘Known to the police as a small-time offender and pain in the neck. She enjoys getting stupid boys to do things they shouldn't, pulling their strings, like she pulled yours.'

‘Well, she's history,' Charlie said. ‘I know that you'll save me from her.'

‘Good. Now it's time I was going home,' Pippa observed.

‘I'll drive you,' Roscoe said.

‘No you won't, I will,' Charlie was quick to say.

‘Neither of you will,' Pippa said. ‘Mr Havering, will you call me a taxi?'

‘I'll drive you,' Charlie insisted.

‘Shut up!' his brother said impatiently. ‘Can't you see she's had enough of the pair of us tonight? Miss Jenson, I suggest that the next meeting should be at my office. My secretary will call you to fix a time.'

‘Certainly,' she said in her most efficient tone.

‘I know you can rescue me,' Charlie said. ‘We'll do it together because I'm going to take your advice in
everything
.'

He said the last word with a breathless sincerity that made her regard him wryly. His eyes twinkled back at her and they laughed together.

Angela came in and demanded to know what was happening. Charlie proclaimed his faith in Pippa, which made his mother embrace her.

Roscoe took no part in this. He was calling the taxi.

Just before it arrived, Charlie came to stand before her. ‘There's something I've just got to know,' he breathed.

‘I'll tell you if I can,' she promised. ‘What is it?'

‘This,' he said, putting a hand behind her head and whipping out the clip in her hair, letting her glorious locks flow free.

‘I've wanted to do that ever since we met,' he said.

‘Then you should be ashamed of yourself,' Roscoe growled. ‘That's no way to treat a lady.'

‘Pippa's not offended,' Charlie pleaded. ‘Are you?'

‘No, I'm not offended, but right this minute I feel like your nursemaid. I think you should call me Nanny.'

‘Not in a million years,' he said fervently.

She gave a crow of laughter. ‘Well, my taxi seems to be here, so I'm leaving now. I'll see you soon.'

Charlie and Angela came with her to the gate, but Roscoe stayed back, declaring curtly that he had work to do. At the last minute he pushed a scrap of paper into Pippa's hand and turned away to climb the stairs.

As the taxi drew away she strained to read what was on the paper, mystified by Roscoe. When her hair flowed free she'd caught a glimpse of his face, full of shock as though he'd been stunned. But that made no sense. He'd seen her hair the night before. There was nothing to surprise him. Yet a man who'd been punched in the stomach might have looked like that.

Now he was giving her secret notes, and she wondered if his stern facade had melted long enough for him to send her a personal message. Could he be reacting to her as a man to a woman? She found herself hoping so. There was something about him that made her want to know more. In another moment she would find out…

Then she passed under a street lamp long enough to see what he'd written to her.

It was the address of his client's computer firm.

N
EXT
morning Roscoe's secretary called and they set up the appointment at his office for the following day. An hour later Charlie came on the line, wanting to see her that night. Since there was still much she needed to discover she reluctantly agreed to let him take her to The Diamond, although a nightclub wasn't the place she would have chosen.

She supposed she should notify Roscoe, but she stopped her hand on the way to the phone. He was just a tad too controlling for her taste, and yielding to it would only make him worse. She would make a report afterwards.

That evening she dressed carefully, choosing a fairly sedate black satin gown with a long hem and modest neck. She'd beguiled Charlie enough to secure his attention, but she had no wish to entice him further.

Downstairs, he had a car waiting, complete with chauffeur.

‘I hired it for the evening,' he said, getting in beside her. ‘I don't want to drive, I want to concentrate on you, now I have you all to myself.'

‘That's lovely,' she said. ‘Just you, me and my notebook.'

‘Notebook?'

‘Well, this is a professional consultation, isn't it? You're going to fill me in on any aspects of the case that were overlooked before.'

He grimaced.

At The Diamond she had to admit that he was a skilled host, recommending dishes from the elaborate menu, knowing which wine to order. He seemed in a chirpy mood, but at last she looked up to find his face pervaded by a wry, almost hangdog look.

‘I guess you were right about Ginevra,' he said. ‘I tried to call her. I know you told me not to, but I had to try.'

‘What happened?'

‘She hung up. I can't believe I was taken in so easily. But at least now I've got you. You're my friend, aren't you? Really my friend, not just because Roscoe has hired your legal skills?'

‘Roscoe does a lot for you,' she reminded him.

‘I know I should be grateful to him. He's always looked after me, but…but he does too much, so that sometimes I feel I don't know who I really am. What would I do if I was left to myself? Stupid things, probably.'

‘Why don't you tell me about it?'

Once Charlie started to talk, it all came tumbling out—the years of growing up in the shadow of tragedy, the crushing awareness that he was all his mother lived for, the feeling that he could never be free.

‘My dad killed himself,' he said sombrely, ‘but Roscoe won't allow it to be mentioned, especially to Mum. That's his way. “Do this, Charlie, don't do that. Join the firm, Charlie—”'

‘Did he make you join his firm?'

‘He suggested it, and what Roscoe “suggests” tends to happen.'

‘Couldn't you have held out against him?'

‘I suppose. Actually, I feel a bit guilty about Roscoe. I get mad at him, but I do know the truth.'

‘Which is?'

‘That he's always had the rough end of the stick. I think Mum blames him for Dad's death, not openly but she says things like, “If only he hadn't been so tired that day, he might not have crashed.” And she says other things—so that I just know she thinks Roscoe wasn't pulling his weight.'

‘Do you believe that?'

‘No, not now I'm in the firm and know a bit about how it works. Roscoe was the same age I am now, still learning the business, and there was only so much he could have done. And I've talked to people who were there at that time and they all say there was a big crash coming, and nobody could believe “that kid” could avoid it.'

‘“That kid,”' she murmured. ‘It's hard to see him like that.'

‘I know, but that's how they thought of him back then. And they were all astounded when he got them through. I respect him—you have to—but I can see what it made him. Sometimes I feel guilty. He saved the rest of us but it damaged him terribly, and Mum just blames him because…well…'

‘Maybe she needs someone to blame,' Pippa suggested gently.

‘Something like that. And it's so unfair that I feel sorry for him. Hey, don't tell him I said that. He'd murder me!'

‘And then he'd murder
me
,' she agreed. ‘Promise.' She laid a finger over her lips.

‘The reason I don't deal with Roscoe very well is that I'm always in two minds about him. I admire him to bits for what he's achieved in the firm, and the way he puts up with Mum's behaviour without complaining.'

‘Does he mind about her very much?'

‘Oh, yes. He doesn't say anything but I see his face sometimes, and it hurts him.'

‘Have you tried talking to him about it?'

‘Yes, and I've been slapped down. He shuts it away inside
himself, and I resent that. He's been a good brother to me, but he won't let me be a good brother to him. That's what I was saying; one moment I admire him and sympathise with him. The next moment I want to thump him for being a tyrant. I'm afraid his tyrant side outweighs the other one by about ten to one.'

‘If you weren't a stockbroker, what would you have liked to do?' she asked.

‘I don't know. Something colourful where I didn't have to wear a formal suit.' He gave a comical sigh. ‘I guess I'm just a lost cause.'

She smiled, feeling as sympathetic as she would have done with a younger brother. Beneath the frivolous boy, she could detect the makings of a generous, thoughtful man with, strangely, a lot in common with his brother. Charlie wasn't the weakling she'd first thought. He had much inner strength. It was just a different kind of strength from Roscoe.

‘You're not a lost cause,' she said, reaching over the table and laying her hands on his shoulders. ‘
I
say you're not, and what I say goes.'

He grinned. ‘Now you sound just like Roscoe.'

‘Well, I
am
like Roscoe.' Briefly, she enclosed his face between her hands. ‘He's not the only one who can give orders, and my orders to you are to cheer up because I'm going to make things all right.'

She dropped her hands but gave him a comforting sisterly smile.

‘D'you know, I really believe you can,' he mused. ‘I think you could take on even Roscoe and win.'

‘Well, somewhere in this world there has to be someone who can crush him beneath her heels.'

‘His fiancée couldn't.'

‘His fiancée?' Pippa echoed, startled. Since learning that
Roscoe lived alone, she had somehow never connected him with romantic entanglements.

‘It was a few years back. Her name was Verity and she was terribly “suitable”. She worked in the firm, and Roscoe used to say that she knew as much about finance as he did.'

‘I dare say she'd need to,' Pippa said, nodding.

‘Right. It makes you wonder what they talked about when they were alone. The latest exchange rate? What the Dow-Jones index was doing?'

‘What did she look like?'

‘Pretty enough, but I think it was chiefly her mental qualities he admired.'

‘Charlie, a man doesn't ask a woman to marry him because of her mental qualities.'

‘Roscoe isn't like other men. Beauty passes him by.'

‘Then why did you warn me against going up to his room yesterday?'

‘I was only joking. I knew he had no interest in you that way. Don't you remember? He said so himself.'

‘Yes,' she murmured. ‘He did, didn't he?'

After that, she relapsed into thought.

Another bottle of wine was served and Charlie drank deeply, making Pippa glad he wasn't driving.

‘Was he very much in love with her?' she asked.

‘I don't know. Like I said, he doesn't talk about his feelings. He wanted her in his way. The rest of us look at a beautiful woman and think
Wow!
Roscoe thinks,
Will she do me credit?
I don't think he's ever thought
Wow!
in his life.'

Oh, yes, he has,
she thought, gazing silently into her glass.

Noticing nothing, Charlie continued, ‘She could be relied on to know what was important—money, propriety, making the world bow down before you. And she'd give him intel
ligent children who would eventually go into the business. What more could he want?'

‘Surely you're being unfair?'

‘Well, losing her didn't seem to break his heart. He didn't even tell us at the time. One day I mentioned that we hadn't seen her for a while and then he said they'd broken up weeks ago. Any normal man would drown his sorrows in the pub with his mates, but not him. He just fired her and she ceased to exist.'

‘He actually fired her?' Pippa was startled.

‘Well, he said she'd left the firm, but I reckon he made her understand that she'd better leave.'

She felt as though someone had struck her over the heart, which was surely absurd? From the start, she'd sensed that Roscoe was a harsh, controlling man, indifferent to the feelings of others as long as his rule was unchallenged. So why should she care if her worst opinion was confirmed?

Because she'd also thought she saw another side to him—warmer, more human. And because Charlie himself had spoken of that softer side. But the moment had passed. Charlie had switched back from the sympathetic brother to the rebellious kid, and in doing so he'd changed the light on Roscoe who was now, once more, the tyrant.

She knew a glimmer of sadness, but suppressed it. Much better to be realistic.

It was time for the cabaret. Dancers skipped across the stage, a crooner crooned, a comedian strutted his stuff. She thought him fairly amusing but Charlie was more critical.

‘His performance was a mess,' he said as the space was cleared for dancing. ‘Listen.'

To her surprise, he rattled through the last joke, word perfect and superbly timed. Then he went back and repeated an earlier part of the act, also exactly right, as far as she could judge.

‘I'm impressed,' she said. ‘I've never come across such a memory.'

He shrugged. ‘It convinced Roscoe that I was bright enough to be a stockbroker, so you might say it ruined my life.'

He made a comical face. She smiled back, meaning to console rather than beguile him. But the next moment her face lit up and she cried out in pleasure, ‘Lee Renton, you devious so-and-so! How lovely to see you.'

A large man in his forties was bearing down on them, hands extended. He was attractive, and would have been even more so if he could manage to lose some weight.

‘“Devious so-and-so!”' he mocked. ‘Is that any way to address your favourite client?'

‘That's not what I say to my favourite client. To him, I say, “Sir, how generous of you to double the bill!”'

Lee roared with laughter before saying, ‘Actually, I'll gladly pay twice the bill after what you did for me.' He seemed to notice Charlie for the first time. ‘I'm Lee Renton. Any friend of Pippa's is a friend of mine.' He pumped Charlie's hand and sat down without waiting to be invited.

‘I did a court appearance for Lee the other day,' Pippa told Charlie. ‘It went fairly well.'

‘Don't act modest,' Lee protested. ‘You're the tops and you know it.'

‘Meaning that I saved you some money?'

‘What else?' he asked innocently.

‘What are you doing here?'

‘My firm provided the entertainment here tonight, and I'll probably buy the place. I'll call you about that.' He blew her a kiss. ‘You look ravishing, queen of my heart.'

‘Oh, stop your nonsense!'

‘Do you say that as a woman or as the lawyer who recently handled my divorce?'

‘I say it as the lawyer who'll probably draw up your next pre-nuptial agreement.'

He bellowed with laughter. A passing waiter caught Charlie's attention and he turned, giving Renton a chance to lower his voice and say, ‘Quite a performer, your companion—I overheard him retelling those jokes and he was a sight better than the original comedian. Does he do it professionally?'

‘No, he's a stockbroker.'

‘You're having a laugh.'

‘Really. He's actually a client and we were discussing his case.'

‘Yeah, right. This is just the perfect place for it. All right, I'm going. I have work to do. Stockbroker, eh?' He thumped Charlie on the shoulder and departed.

Charlie frowned, turning back from the waiter. ‘Lee Renton? I've heard that name somewhere.'

‘He's very big in entertainment. He buys things, he promotes, he owns a television studio.'

‘
That
Lee Renton? Wow! I wish I'd known.'

He looked around, managing to spot Lee in the distance, deep in conversation with a man whom he overwhelmed by flinging an arm around his shoulders and sweeping him off until they both vanished in the crowd.

The waiter brought more wine and he drank it thoughtfully. ‘Do you know him well?'

‘Well enough. I'll introduce you another time.'

He drained his glass. ‘Come on, let's dance.'

He was a natural dancer, and together they went enjoyably mad. The other dancers backed off to watch them, and when they finished the crowd applauded.

Charlie's eyes were brilliant, his cheeks flushed, and Pippa guessed she must look much the same. In a moment of crazy delight, he put his hands on either side of her face, just as she
had briefly done to him at the table. But when he tried to kiss her she fended him off.

‘That's enough,' she said when she could speak. ‘Bad boy!'

‘Sorry, ma'am!' He assumed a clowning expression of penitence.

‘We're going back to the table and you're going to behave,' she said firmly.

Then she saw Roscoe.

He was sitting at a table on the edge of the dance floor, regarding her with his head slightly tilted and an unreadable expression on his face. Beside him sat a woman of great beauty in a low-cut evening gown of gold satin, with flaming red hair. Pippa saw her lean towards him, touching his hand gently so that he turned back to her, all attention, as though everyone else had ceased to exist.