The Antique Love (2 page)

He ran one finger carefully over a scarlet rose. “It’s beautifully crafted,” he said in his slow way.

“Yes, it’s magnificent.” There was quiet pride in Penny’s voice. “And it’s typical of the style of the time. The Victorians were very fond of this type of ornament.”

The cowboy rotated the vase in his large hands, considering a reply. Penny waited expectantly.

“And they liked potpourri,” he offered eventually, his rugged features schooled into a mask of politeness.

His reply brought a quiet laugh. “Yes, they were fond of potpourri, too,” she agreed. “I suppose it’s a bit OTT for modern taste. Nowadays we prefer things simpler. More minimalist.”

She drew nearer the cowboy and ran her own fingers over the gold dahlia.

“But I love it,” she said. Her gaze softened as she followed the curve of the flower. “Look how every petal is detailed. It may be ornate, but there’s a magnificent beauty in it.”

Her fingertips trailed further down the swell of the vase.

“And it’s not just that,” she continued, eyes bright as she warmed to her theme. “The Victorians were great lovers of romance, from their music to their literature. Look at the colours.” She gestured to the gold and turquoise handles. “They’re bursting with passion. You can almost
feel
the romance of it, even after a hundred and sixty years.”

Penny’s exploring fingers brushed the cowboy’s warm ones, and she pulled her hand away swiftly. Once again she’d found herself adrift in her own imagination. What would he think of her, burbling on like that? She lifted her head to find the warmth in his gaze had shifted a little. He dropped his eyes to the vase lying in his broad palm.

“I guess a lot of customers must fall for all that romantic stuff,” he said coolly.

She stiffened. David’s last, violent outburst was still ringing round her skull.
Ridiculously romantic
was just one of the insults he’d tossed at her when he left.
A dreamer.
Now it seemed even this customer thought she lived in a fantasy world. Since David’s violent departure, Penny had been feeling low and out of sorts. Now the cowboy’s innocent comment caught her on the raw, and to her dismay, she felt the misery she’d been fighting for days rise up and form a lump in her throat. She lowered her eyelids swiftly and reached out to take the vase. Suddenly the fingers of his free hand caught hers in a gentle grip. She raised her face to his, startled.

“I don’t mean any disrespect,” he said kindly. “I like how you describe things. Give them their history. It kind of makes these old objects come alive.”

The warmth of his words was reflected in the quick pressure of his fingers, and Penny was touched by the generosity of the gesture. She freed her hand, bending her head to take the vase from where it rested on his broad palm.

As she busied herself replacing it in the cabinet, she wondered what on earth he must think of her, acting all stiff and English like that? And lecturing away on history. He must think she was some sort of bossy school ma’am in her prim skirt with her hair all tied back. So it was a surprise when Penny turned round to see the stranger stretch out a friendly hand.

“My name’s Kurt,” he said.

Kurt the cowboy. Of course it had to be. Penny slipped her hand into his and gave a delighted smile. “Penny,” she said. “Penny Rosas.”

And then he smiled back, a sudden flash of white in the rainy London afternoon.

“Penny Rosas,” he repeated. “So that’s why Penny Antiques?” He lifted his head in the direction of the window, over which the shop’s name was engraved in gold lettering. “Is this your business?”

“Yes.” With David’s harsh words about her lack of business acumen still ringing in her ears, she raised her chin a little, trying not to sound too defensive. “I started working here when I left school. Then I took over from my granddad when he retired a couple of years ago.”

The cowboy nodded slowly. “This is a great place. Real interesting.” His eyes travelled with curiosity round the shelves of mechanical toys, the collections of fans and trinkets, and the eclectic selection of antiques, before he brought his gaze back to hers. “I was hoping you could tell me some more. Maybe the history of some of the other items.” When Penny failed to answer straightaway, he added hopefully, “That is, if you have time?”

Penny thought of the accounts that were desperate for her attention. She hesitated, torn between putting the customer first—not too hard to do with this ruggedly charming cowboy, if she were honest—and giving a polite excuse. Kurt pre-empted her, smiling again in a way that even a saint would have found hard to resist.

“I was particularly interested in the jewellery.” He indicated the collection of antique gold and silver locked in a case near the window. “I need to buy a present for someone.”

That clinched it. Although Penny was knowledgeable about antiques of all kinds, jewellery was her passion. She smiled widely.

“My assistant says when I get onto my jewellery I talk too much, so stop me when I get boring.”

Kurt showed no sign at all of boredom as she displayed the pieces. He listened intently, his eyes following Penny as she gesticulated with animation. When she held up a particularly striking pendant for his inspection, the gemstones caught the light from the window, and he lifted his dark blonde head with a slow smile, enjoying her enchantment. In the glow of enthusiasm, she forgot all about her weariness and her anxiety regarding the accounts.

It wasn’t until they reached the final item that she faltered. She reached a hand toward the last silver chain and then recollected herself, retreating swiftly to pick up one of the gold pendants they had already examined. Her movements lost their fluid grace all of a sudden and became strangely stilted.

Kurt remained where he was, gazing at the last pendant. When he turned to Penny, she thought she saw flash of understanding in him which was at odds with his apparent slowness of movement. She almost reached out a hand to tug him away, but any attempt to move this solid male would be futile. Her heart sank as he tilted his head in the direction of the pendant she was willing him to ignore.

“What about this one?” He slid his hand gently under the gemstones and tilted them up to the window. A cluster of tiny rose diamonds caught the light, and the pendant sparkled against his tanned hand. He lifted it a little higher, allowing the delicate chain to spill over his broad fingers.

“Now this is real beautiful,” he said slowly.

If he’d noticed Penny’s reluctance, he was wilfully ignoring it. He tilted his head and waited patiently for her to speak.

“It’s Art Nouveau,” she said at last. “Turn of the century.”

The stones of the pendant gleamed softly against Kurt’s hand.

“May I take a closer look?”

She gave a reluctant nod, all spontaneity completely flown. She observed Kurt’s careful handling of the pendant with tight constraint. He lifted the chain from its brass hook and let it slip lightly through his fingers until the gemstones came to rest in his open palm. A single strand of silver curled neatly into the shape of a heart, from the base of which trembled several tiny rose diamonds. At the apex of the heart, two further silver strands twined around each other and then parted, one strand curving into a delicate petal, the other dropping downward to hold two pale pink, lustrous pearls right in the heart’s centre. The pearls shimmered in Kurt’s hand, bringing with them all the secrets of the ocean from which they’d been plucked more than a hundred years before. It was magical.

Penny studied Kurt’s expression and bit her lip. Of all the pieces in the shop, of course this had to be the one he admired the most.

“It’s a love token,” she told him. Then she shook herself. “Well, that’s obvious. I mean, it’s a heart...”

She let the sentence trail away. Kurt didn’t need any of her pathetic words to describe the wonderful gems shining in his hand. In any case, after his dismissive remarks about using romance to sell to customers, she wasn’t sure she wanted to continue. The gems positively glowed with romance. It was her favourite item in the whole shop, and she couldn’t bear to hear his cynicism.

He moved a slow, careful finger over the pearls in the centre of his palm, and she was suddenly afraid that the pendant she loved so fervently was literally in the wrong hands. There was something in the way Kurt was studying it—something a little too remote, too controlled. All the warmth and charm in those grey eyes didn’t mask the reserve in the way he carried himself and the distance he kept from people.

Penny knew she was being
ridiculously romantic
again, but she didn’t care. Kurt didn’t seem remotely like a guy who’d ever known what it was to love. It would be a tragedy to see her delicate love token around the neck of a casual fling, a girl the cowboy was dating just to while away his time in London. The pearls and the silver heart enclosing them were things of rare beauty, with a life all of their own. There was no way she was going to let them go to a man as unemotional as this one appeared to be. They deserved
more
.

But she didn’t want to judge Kurt before giving him a chance. There was nothing for it but to ask him a personal question and hope he didn’t think she was crazy. She cleared her throat.

“The person you’re buying for,” she said. “Is she a close friend?”

Kurt looked up from the pendant, meeting her gaze with quick understanding. He gave a brief laugh. “Do you mean am I buying for a girlfriend?” He shook his head. “No.”

He seemed to find the thought amusing. Penny released her breath in relief as he replaced the pendant on its tiny brass hook.

“I’m looking for a present for my sister,” he continued.

“
Oh
.” So it wasn’t a girlfriend. Penny gave him a brilliant smile out of all proportion to his answer and then quickly tried to wipe it off her face in case he thought she was some sort of idiot. Her beloved pendant was back in its cabinet, safe from the hands of this reserved customer, and at that moment, that was all she cared about.

“In that case, perhaps a love token wouldn’t be quite appropriate.”

Kurt laughed again. “I don’t think so,” he said. “My sister would tell me I’ve finally lost my mind.”

“Oh,” Penny said again. She tried to imagine the taciturn man joking with his sister. Maybe he wasn’t as guarded with the people close to him as he appeared. For the past half hour in her company, he’d barely spoken. He’d just kept his watchful eyes on her whilst she did all the talking.

“You seem very attached to that heart,” he said now. “I’d say you didn’t even want to sell it.”

“Oh, I’d love to sell it.” Penny stopped before her stupid tongue ran away with her again. The intense emotional attachment she sometimes formed for the shop’s items had been one of the things about her that often annoyed David. Part of what he meant when he’d dubbed her
ridiculously romantic
, she supposed. She considered making up some reason for not selling it to Kurt—maybe tell him something about it being half-promised to another customer—and then suddenly it seemed important to her that this quiet stranger understood.

“It’s not that I don’t
want
to sell it,” she said, trying to choose her words. “It’s just that it has to go to the right person.” She wrinkled her forehead whilst Kurt waited. He seemed to know how important this was to her. In the end she lifted the end of the pendant with one swift finger. The stones danced and shimmered back to life.

“Just look at it,” she said.
Didn’t he see?
“I could fall in love with the beauty of it. Think of the hours of work and the craftsmanship and the century of history behind it. The person who leaves the shop with this pendant will buy it because he
has
to have it. And he won’t be buying it on a whim. He’ll be buying it for the woman he loves with a passion.” She stepped back, cheeks heating, aware she’d finished her declaration on what was an eccentrically dramatic note. She lifted her chin, expecting mockery, and was surprised to discover a kind of warm appreciation in Kurt’s gaze.

“Passionately in love,” he repeated. His downturned smile, rather than mocking Penny, appeared to be directed at himself. “I guess that’s why you didn’t want to show it to me, huh?”

Penny’s face heated even more as she looked up at him, but he merely shrugged good-naturedly. “You got me weighed up all right. Those pearls should go to a better man.”

Penny kicked herself. Once again she had let her imagination run away with her, and it would have served her right if Kurt took offence. It was fortunate for her he appeared to take her words with good humour. He moved away and held up one of the sets of earrings she’d shown him previously.

“These are perfect,” he said. “My sister will love them.”

Penny agreed. The earrings he’d picked out—droplets of sapphire and sparkling Austrian crystal—were the perfect choice for a sister. A few minutes later Penny took Tehmeena’s place behind the till and wrapped the earrings into a neat parcel, so Kurt could send them to the States.

When the transaction was concluded, she found herself reluctant to say goodbye to her cowboy. She guessed he was in London on a sight-seeing trip. It was one of those curious twists of fate that brought him into her shop, where his world and hers had so briefly touched. He would soon be leaving the congested city and returning to the freedom of his ranch, she supposed. It was with real regret she reached out her hand in farewell over the counter.

“Well, goodbye,” she said. “It’s been nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in London.”

Kurt took her hand in his and held it for a moment, smiling down at her.

“My stay here is going to be a long one,” he said. “And as a matter of fact, I think you can help me. I need to furnish a new house, and your sign outside says you do interior design.” He pointed to a poster Tehmeena had displayed in the shop window.

“Well, it’s not interior design exactly,” she said in surprise. “It’s more sourcing objects for interiors. Antique furnishings, artwork, and such like.”