Promise Made (32 page)

She frowned as the door closed behind Amelia. Now what was that all about? It was almost as if Amelia was trying to push her into marrying Paul Renton . . .

Twelve

Emily had been working in her office for an hour when Paul walked in the next morning. She looked up and smiled, laying down her pen. ‘I was just about to make some coffee,' she said. ‘Would you like some?'

‘Not at the moment,' Paul said looking so stern that her heart caught. ‘I have to say this, Emily, or it will be too late. I tried yesterday but couldn't find the courage . . .'

‘Paul . . .' Emily stood up and came round her desk. Her heart was jerking oddly, because she sensed what he was going to say. ‘You know I like you very much.'

‘Liking isn't enough for what I want,' Paul said and his face was tortured with passion. ‘I think I fell in love with you the first time we met, Emily. I want to marry you, but I can't offer you anything like you have here.'

‘You wouldn't have to,' Emily said. She moved towards him, putting a finger to his lips as he would have spoken again. ‘I do feel something for you, Paul, and I should very much like to get to know you better – but I am not ready for marriage yet. One day I may want to leave this house, but not now, not while I am needed.'

‘I knew that as soon as I saw the way Vane looks at you,' Paul told her. ‘He worships the ground you walk on, Emily, and you are very fond of him. I almost went this morning without speaking, because I know I can't expect you to leave all this for me . . .'

‘Not yet,' she repeated with a smile because his heated words were making her feel warm and happy in a way she hadn't been happy for a long time. ‘Perhaps one day, Paul. I can't say that I will marry you, because I don't know you well enough. I married in haste once and regretted it. I won't make that mistake again – but I would like us to know each other better. If you hadn't been offered that job I might . . .'

‘The job means nothing if there is a chance we could be together,' Paul said. ‘But if you're not sure . . .'

‘I know I want to . . .' Emily frowned as the telephone on her desk rang. For a moment she was tempted to ignore it but something made her pick it up, despite sensing that Paul wanted her to leave it. ‘Yes, Emily Vane speaking . . .'

‘Emily,' Frances sounded urgent. ‘You've got to come back to the house at once. Lord Vane has had a heart attack and he is asking for you. Amelia is with him and in a terrible state. She asked me to get you here as quickly as possible. I think it is serious.'

‘Yes, of course. I'll come now,' Emily said. She replaced the receiver with a little bang, her heart racing as she looked at Paul. ‘I am sorry I have to go. Vane is ill. He needs me.'

‘Yes, of course,' Paul said. ‘I'll get out of your way.'

‘No . . .' Emily hesitated. A part of her wanted to beg him to stay, but she knew this wasn't the time. ‘Yes, perhaps it would be best. I'm not sure when I'll be able to talk again. I couldn't leave Vane like this . . . not when he needs me.'

‘No, of course not,' Paul said. ‘But he will always need you, won't he, Emily?'

‘Yes, perhaps,' she said. ‘I am sorry, Paul. I have to go . . .'

She walked past him, leaving him standing there. She liked Paul, felt that there was something between them, but it was new and fragile and it didn't stand a chance when Vane needed her. The bonds between them were an invisible thread, but so strong that she felt them pulling her even when they were apart.

Emily paused to recover her breath before walking into Vane's bedchamber. She had rushed back in a panic, because the urgent summons had shocked her. It had upset her the first time Vane had been struck down like this, but it was different now. The feeling between them was so much stronger, and losing him would be a cruel blow. Her throat was tight, and she could feel a sharp pain deep inside her.

He was lying propped up against a pile of pillows, the curtains half-pulled to shade the room from too much light. Amelia was sitting on the edge of the bed holding his hand. She looked over her shoulder as Emily came in, an odd expression in her eyes.

‘Thank goodness you are here. I thought you might have gone off somewhere. Vane wants to speak to you . . .' She got up, clearly preparing to leave the room.

‘You don't have to leave,' Emily said, though she wanted her to, because she wanted a few minutes with Vane. ‘Unless you want . . .'

Amelia gave her a mocking stare and walked out. Emily approached the bed. Vane looked old and frail against the white pillows, a dark-blue silken counterpane covering his body. He pushed the top cover back a little and smiled wearily at her.

‘Thank you for coming, my dear.' He held his hand out to her. ‘Amelia makes such a fuss but I think she may be right this time. We'll know more when the doctor has been, but . . .' He shook his head impatiently. ‘I haven't time for all this . . . I must ask, Emily. Are you planning to marry your doctor? I know he means to ask you – will you say yes?'

‘Not for the moment,' Emily said, her fingers entwining with his. His clasp was still firm despite his air of fragility and she was a little reassured. ‘Perhaps one day, if I get to know him and decide that I would like to be married. I don't really know him yet.'

‘He is very much in love with you,' Vane told her. ‘Believe me, Emily. I recognize the signs. It wouldn't be the way it was with Simon.'

‘No, perhaps not,' Emily said. ‘But I made a promise, Vane. I said that I would stay here while I was needed and the home still has a few guests.'

‘You know that we could find someone to manage it, don't you?' Vane's eyes were on her. ‘I think you want to stay here, Emily. I believe you have become as much a prisoner of Vanbrough as I have been all my life.'

‘What do you mean – a prisoner?'

‘A house and estate like this have to be nurtured and loved,' Vane said. ‘It needs new life, new blood, Emily. You brought that to us when you came, and it will live on through you and Robert – and the children you may have in the future. That is why I have arranged things the way I think best. I shan't say more now, but I wanted to make sure you understood. Robert may not carry my blood, but you carry my spirit and my hopes. I want to think of you here, carrying on the traditions . . .'

‘Vane, please don't talk this way,' Emily begged. ‘I don't want you to die . . .' A sob broke in her voice, her hand holding his a little too tightly. ‘I don't know what I should do without you now.'

‘You will go on as you did before,' he said with a gentle smile. ‘I like to think that you will remember me with affection, but I know that you have the strength for what is needed, my dear. And you will carry on, won't you, Emily – for my sake?'

‘You know I love you,' Emily said, realizing the depth of her feelings for the first time. A wave of despair swept over her, because she was losing the one person she could rely on to love and care for her. ‘Oh, Vane, I am not sure I am strong enough to do what you want.'

‘You will, because you are my Emily,' he said. His eyes were softly mocking, but the mockery was directed at himself not her. ‘I have thought of you that way for a long time now. You must have known that I loved you, my dear?' He held her hand as he felt her initial reaction to withdraw. ‘I care for Amelia, of course I do. She is my wife – but it was never a love match. I wanted more children, particularly another son. I think I knew from the time when Simon was quite small that he would never be my heir – and Vanessa is tied up with her husband's life in London. She doesn't even like Vanbrough. Whereas you do – don't you?'

‘You know I do,' Emily said, her voice thick with emotion. ‘But I want things to go on the way they are, with you and Amelia . . .'

Vane gave a snort of laughter. ‘You want it to go on forever – but you should know that nothing lasts forever, Emily. You of all people must understand that even the best of times must fade at the last.'

‘Yes, I know – but the time went too fast,' Emily said. ‘All during the war with the patients and the mad rushing around . . . you were there and I relied on you, loved you, and hardly knew that I was happy. Now that we have come through it . . .' Regret caught at her throat and she shook her head. ‘I shouldn't be saying these things. I am supposed to be comforting you, telling you that you will soon be better . . .'

‘And should I pretend to believe you?' This time his mockery was for her. ‘No, Emily, I don't want that from you. Amelia would have me believe that the doctor will wave his magic wand, but I know what is happening.' He put a hand to his chest, smothering a moan as the pain intensified. ‘I've had a decent life. I can't expect to go on much longer.'

‘Are you in much pain?' Vane shook his head but Emily knew he was lying. ‘Shall I go and leave you to rest, dearest?'

‘No, not yet. I just want to look at you. I don't think you know how beautiful you have become, Emily. You were always lovely, but you have such a serene beauty these days . . . like the Madonna but with an earthly quality that makes men want you. I wasn't surprised that your doctor fell in love with you at first sight. It came more slowly for me, but I was older and more cautious.'

‘You see me with the eyes of love.' She bent forward and kissed him on the lips very softly. ‘My dearest Vane. You put me on a pedestal I don't deserve.'

‘Perhaps,' Vane agreed. ‘Don't spend the rest of your life alone, Emily. If it isn't to be the young doctor find someone else – but make sure that whoever it is loves this place too, because otherwise he will want you to leave it, and I don't think you will be able to. I couldn't, even though I knew it would be sensible to sell the place or tear it down and build a modern economic house.'

‘I shall marry if I can find someone I love.'

‘I want you to be happy,' Vane said and his hand trembled in hers. ‘Sometimes I think I wronged you, my Emily. If I had let you go instead of selfishly keeping you with me . . . but I wanted to see you every day of my life so I made sure that you stayed, and now you can't leave any more than I ever could.'

‘You didn't force me to stay,' Emily said, though she knew that she had stayed for his sake. ‘If I had truly wanted to leave I would have gone.' She might have gone if Terry had lived, but after his death she had needed her work . . . and she had needed Vane. His strength and his love had sustained her, though she hadn't truly understood that until this moment.

He had closed his eyes and now his hand was slipping from hers. She felt the life draining out of him and she stood up, intending to call his wife, but the door opened as if Amelia had been expecting it to happen. She came to the side of the bed and they stood there together, watching the colour leave his face.

‘I'll telephone for the doctor,' she said, feeling that Amelia would need a few moments alone with her husband. ‘I am truly sorry.'

‘Are you?' Amelia looked at her, cold and remote. ‘I don't see why. You always get whatever you want, don't you?'

‘Oh, Amelia, not now,' Emily said. ‘Excuse me, I must leave you for a while. We shall talk later.'

She left the room and went downstairs to ring the local surgery again. It was too late for Vane, but it wouldn't have mattered if the doctor had come sooner. It had been Vane's time and he'd known it . . .

Emily felt the tears well up inside her, but she fought them down. There were things she needed to do; the tears could come later.

‘I am so sorry,' Frances said when she joined Emily in the garden later that day. It was quite mild even though it was early February. From the branches of ancient trees, a thrush was trilling its wonderful song. ‘I know he meant a great deal to you.'

‘Yes, he did.' Emily smiled because the first surge of grief had abated. She could still feel Vane with her, as if he were standing at her shoulder, watching over her. ‘We've known for the past few years that he was living on borrowed time. His heart hasn't been all it should be, but he made nothing of it, carried on as if he were twenty years younger. He was thirty years older than Amelia, of course. Simon and Vanessa were his children by his first wife.'

Frances nodded. ‘Amelia told me that he married her for a spare but she wasn't able to give him a child. I think that's awful, don't you? To marry someone just for the sake of an extra son . . .'

‘It isn't strictly true,' Emily said. ‘Amelia is feeling upset – and bitter, I suppose, because Vane asked for me at the last. She tried to take Robert over because she wanted him to be hers . . .' Emily sighed. ‘Vane was always able to smooth her feathers. I am not sure how we shall get on now that he is dead . . .'

‘You are going to miss him, aren't you? Not just because of Amelia – but because you loved him.'

‘Yes, I did love him,' Emily said. ‘I don't think I ever knew how much until today. It was a special kind of love, Frances. He wasn't exactly a father figure to me – and yet I never thought of him as a lover. I suppose I might have done if it hadn't been for Amelia.'

‘He was so much older than you, Emily!'

‘Yes, I know – but Vane was the kind of man who never really ages. His body got older, but his mind and spirit remained eternally young. I suppose that is why I thought he would go on for years. Even though I knew his heart was weak, I thought he couldn't die . . .' Emily felt the tears begin to slide down her cheeks and wiped them away with the sleeve of her light jacket. ‘Damn it! I don't want to cry. Vane wouldn't want that and it's so stupid.'

Frances put an arm about her waist. ‘Cry if you want to, love. It doesn't help much but it does relieve the tension. I should know. I've done enough of it lately.'