Terms Of Engagement. Kathryn Ross
suppose you knew Ethan and his family quite well? You sound as if you’ve lived in these parts for a long time.’
‘My family go back several generations here.’ Frazer nodded.
‘Well…Ethan’s brother, Robert, was my father. My mother met him when they were both studying at Oxford. Their affair was passionate and my mother fell wildly in love. But the relationship was never meant to be long-term as far as Robert Daniels was concerned. He had no intention of marrying my mother. In fact, when he discovered she was pregnant he said he didn’t want to see her again. She left Oxford and went to live with her sister in Kent. My father got his degree and went back to take over the running of his family estate. I never met him.’
‘A nice guy,’ Frazer murmured caustically.
‘Was he?’ Emma asked, curious to hear any snippets of information about the man she had always wondered about.
‘I was being facetious.’
Seeing the look of disappointment in her eyes, he added, ‘To be honest, I don’t remember him that well. He was Ethan’s older brother, and the estate went to him after their father died. Then Robert died…I must have been about eleven at the time. If I remember correctly, it was a drowning accident.’
Emma nodded. ‘Yes, it was. The only reason I know was that Ethan wrote to my mother and told her. Apparently, every year on my birthday my mother had sent my photograph to my father. I think she hoped for a long time that he would come after her and change his mind. But of course he never did. Never so much as wrote to acknowledge receiving the photographs. When Ethan inherited the estate after his death, he found the photographs bundled together at the bottom of a drawer.’
‘But Ethan didn’t invite you up to Scotland?’ Frazer asked.
‘No. After my father’s death it was as if a curtain had been pulled down over the past. My mother married Tony and had two sons.’
‘The car enthusiasts?’
Emma nodded. ‘Sean is nineteen. He’s off seeing the world. Taylor is twenty, married with a young baby. He’s a rally driver, based in France at the moment.’
‘And you’ve ended up inheriting your father’s estate after all,’ Frazer remarked.
‘Ironic, isn’t it?’ Emma said lightly. ‘Apparently I was Ethan’s only living relative, so he made his will out to me. You can imagine my surprise when his solicitor tracked me down and his letter fell through my letterbox. I mean, I had never so much as received a Christmas card from my father or his brother. Then suddenly all their worldly possessions fell at my feet.’ She was silent for a moment. ‘I suppose it would have gone to Ethan’s daughter had she lived.’
‘I guess so,’ Frazer agreed quietly. ‘And maybe Ethan felt guilty about the way his brother had treated your mother.’
Emma shrugged. ‘I suppose I’ll never know what he thought. I would have liked to have known him though…and my cousin, Roberta.’ She smiled sadly for a moment. ‘I once asked my mother for their address. I was only about fifteen at the time, and I had this romantic notion that I could turn up on their doorstep and be welcomed. She refused to give it to me and my stepfather was furious that I had asked…’ She trailed off. What she didn’t tell Frazer was that she had been very unhappy at that time in her life. She had never felt as if she’d fitted in to her mother’s new life.
Frazer’s eyes moved absently over her red-gold hair. ‘You look like your cousin. Roberta had the same colouring, the same way of holding a man’s attention.’
Emma didn’t know how to take that remark. Was it a compliment? ‘How well did you know her?’
‘Fairly well. We were at school together for a while.’ He hesitated. ‘She was only twenty-five when she died.’
‘So I heard. It was really very sad. No wonder Ethan felt bitter.’
Frazer inclined his head. ‘I suppose you’re right.’ He glanced again at his watch. ‘I’ve really got to go.’
‘OK. Thank you for the coffee.’ She wondered if she had talked too much. She didn’t usually open up like that, especially to someone she hardly knew.
He looked over at her, held her eyes for a moment. ‘Would you like to have dinner with me one night?’ he asked suddenly.
The invitation made her blood rush like fire through her veins. She hesitated, then smiled and managed to say casually, ‘That would be nice.’
He stood up. ‘OK, I’ll give you a ring and we’ll arrange something.’
‘It might be better to wait until after this weekend. I’ll be fairly tied up with my ex-husband being here.’
‘Fine.’ He nodded towards the card that she still held in her hand. ‘Meanwhile, think about my offer.’
Was that why he had asked her out? she wondered as she watched him walking away from her across the deserted bar. Or was she just being cynical?
She wondered if she had made a mistake accepting his invitation. Then she shrugged to herself. She was only thirty-two—too young to lock herself away in a convent. She could have fun, just as long as she didn’t allow herself to get serious.
Trouble was, Frazer McClarran was seriously attractive.
CHAPTER THREE
JON phoned as soon as he arrived in the village and suggested that Emma meet him for a drink that evening. He needed instructions on how to get to her property. Also, he wanted to discuss his requirements for filming.
So it was that Emma found herself strolling into the Traveller’s Rest again the next evening. It was a wet September night, and Emma wished she had worn trousers. Not only was she cold, but the long floral skirt and black cashmere jumper suddenly didn’t feel casual enough. She didn’t want Jon to think she had made any kind of effort to impress him.
She put her umbrella in the stand by the door and peered into the bar. Unlike yesterday afternoon, when she had sat in there with Frazer, the room was packed. There was a huge log fire blazing in the stone fireplace and a smell of pine smoke mingled with the smell of malt whisky.
Her eyes flicked with apprehension over the crowd. She didn’t see Jon, but she did see Frazer McClarran. He was standing in the doorway of what was probably the private function room, judging by the thumping music coming from it.
It was his friend’s stag night this evening, she remembered.
He wore a dark suit and a blue shirt open at the neck. He looked fabulous. There was no other word to describe him. He glanced across, met her eyes and smiled. She felt her heart jolt against her chest as if a burst of electricity had shot through her.
‘Emma.’ A voice distracted her. ‘Emma, over here.’
She looked over towards the corner of the room. Jon was sitting at a table by himself.
He stood up as she made her way across towards him. It was nearly two years since she had last seen her ex-husband, but he didn’t seem to have changed. He was thirty-six now, yet he had the same blond smooth good looks, the same trendy way of dressing, as if he had just come off a Milan catwalk.
‘Hello, Emma,’ he said, a husky note in his voice.
She felt herself stiffen awkwardly as he reached to kiss her on the cheek.
He didn’t seem to notice, just smiled at her. His hand rested a moment too long at her waist.
‘Hello, Jon.’ She stepped back from him. ‘Where is your colleague?’
‘Lesley won’t be joining me until tomorrow.’ He pulled out a chair for her.
‘I see.’ Emma was disappointed, she had been hoping there would be a third person present. It would have kept things more firmly on