Conflict Of Hearts

‘Elizabeth, I’m sorry to rush you, but we have to leave quite soon.’ Noah’s hand on her shoulder made her jump.

‘Leave?’ she repeated, still too dazed for anything to make much sense.

He didn’t answer her. ‘It’s Hallam, isn’t it? Noah Jordan. I’ve just been talking to your parents. I understand congratulations are in order.’

‘Thank you,’ he said, clearly relieved to break the tension. ‘May I introduce my wife Francesca?’

Noah transferred his gaze to Peter’s new wife and took her hand, holding it, it seemed to Lizzie, for ever. Then he seemed to recollect himself. ‘I apologise for dragging Elizabeth away, but I’m taking her to see Tosca tonight—a treat for all the hard work she’s put into organising the wedding for Olivia.’ He glanced at Lizzie. His heavy-lidded eyes gave no hint of his intention, but there was something about the determined cut of his mouth that suggested she would be wise to follow his lead.

‘Tosca?’ Fran repeated. ‘That is absolutely my favourite opera,’ she declared, obviously relieved to have a topic of conversation that had nothing to do with the unknown politics of a small village. ‘I have a recording of my mother singing—’

‘Your mother is a singer?’ Lizzie felt Noah’s long fingers tighten against her shoulder as he asked the question.

‘Was. Not professional, of course, although she was very good. I have a recording of her singing and my father playing the piano.’ She gave an awkward little smile. ‘It’s about all I have of them. They died when I was very young.’

Noah’s eyes were fastened on the girl’s face. ‘Then you must come with us tonight.’

‘We couldn’t possibly...’ Peter began, staring at Lizzie, his brows tugged together in a bewildered frown.

‘I have a box with two empty seats. It would be a pity to waste them.’

‘Oh, Peter, please!’ Fran begged. ‘Mr Jordan wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t mean it.’ She turned eagerly back to Noah. ‘Would you?’

Noah offered a reassuring smile. ‘We’d love to have you as our guests.’ He turned to Lizzie. ‘Wouldn’t we, darling?’

Darling? She was beginning to seriously hate that word. But before she could react he had slipped his arm about her waist. ‘Seven o’clock at the Coliseum. If we miss you in the foyer, I’ll leave a pass at the box office.’ He raised a hand, and before Lizzie knew what was happening she was being propelled across the lawn towards the house.

‘Lizzie...?’ Peter’s slightly puzzled voice trailed after her.

‘Don’t look back,’ Noah rapped out, quite unnecessarily. Lizzie had no desire to look back. The picture of Peter standing confused and unhappy beside his bride would haunt her for ever. The dreadful suspicion that he had married Francesca on the rebound simply to spite her... She half stumbled across the grass in her haste to get as far away from them as possible.

As they reached the French windows that led to the drawing room, Noah turned her to him. Tears were turning his image into a watery blur as his fingers touched her chin and raised it a fraction, exposing her to the full force of a pair of seeking grey eyes. And while she stood there, held like a rabbit helpless in a pair of headlamps, he bent and kissed her.

His lips were cool and firm and dry against hers, and she caught the faintest scent of something indefinable that seemed to be the very essence of Noah Jordan. Shock held her rooted to the spot. Peter had kissed her many times, tenderly, warmly. But Noah Jordan’s mouth was totally demanding, provoking a flicker of some undreamt-of desire...

She clutched at his wide shoulders as her head was forced back over his arm, shutting her eyes tightly in a desperate attempt to blot out what was happening, the realisation that it would be all too easy to respond. That she wanted to... But then it was over, his hand at her back as he swept her into the drawing room.

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, turning on him angrily in her confusion. ‘How dare you kiss me like that?’

‘It’s something people do at weddings,’ he said carelessly. ‘Kiss the bridesmaid. Or hadn’t you noticed?’

She brushed aside his reference to the chaste salutes of family friends. ‘It wasn’t... the same.’

‘No?’ His expression was disquieting. ‘Perhaps not. I promise not to let it go to my head.’

‘You...’ She tugged at her arm. ‘Oh...let me go,’ she stormed. ‘I want—’

He swung her back into his arms, forcing her to face him, meeting her angry expression head-on. ‘Everyone within a hundred yards could see what you wanted, Elizabeth. Including his wife. That’s why I kissed you—to save the face of a young woman who has been pitch-forked by that young fool into a very awkward situation. You’ve made the start of one marriage difficult enough. I don’t intend to let you upset another. So you’d better go and change. Right now.’

So, she was right. Olivia had run to her brother and arranged this little plan to get her out of the way. It certainly explained his undisguised hostility. Well, she wasn’t about to fall into line and co-operate with her eviction from her own home. ‘Change?’ she demanded. ‘Why on earth would I want to change?’

‘Because I have no intention of driving to London with you dressed like that. I’ll come and pick up your bags in a few minutes. You’ll need something long for tonight, by the way. It’s a gala.’

She stood her ground. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Mr Jordan. You’re not driving me to London, or anywhere else for that matter. And I loathe the opera,’ she added, without the slightest qualm at uttering such fiction.

‘Noah,’ he insisted, ignoring her protest. ‘My sister has married your father. We’re practically related. That’s why I have been lumbered with you.’

‘Rubbish,’ she said. ‘And you can consider yourself unlumbered. I’m perfectly happy here.’

One dark brow kinked at the vehemence of her reply, then his hands grasped her shoulders and forcibly propelled her towards the hall. ‘Causing as much mischief as you can, no doubt. Think again. Staying here is not an option.’ The hard edge to his voice left no room for doubt.

‘But...’ It was ridiculous. When her father had first broached the idea that she should stay with Noah for a few weeks after the wedding she hadn’t made a fuss. She had made other plans—to visit New York with Peter...

She gave a little gasp as she was jolted back to reality. Her plans had been nothing but daydreams. But she still had a month while Olivia and her father were away to make her own arrangements. ‘The house shouldn’t be left empty,’ she objected.

‘I may have misread the situation, but I don’t think you were planning on house-sitting for the next month, Elizabeth.’

She flushed angrily. ‘My plans are none of your business.’

‘I wish that were true,’ he replied, with feeling. ‘However, if you’d had the good manners to stay and listen to Olivia, instead of making a fool of yourself over Hallam, you would know that there’s been a last-minute change of plan. She has been advised not to fly. Which is why, like it or not, you’re coming to London with me. Right now.’

‘Not to fly? Why on earth...?’ Lizzie felt the angry flush drain from her cheeks. There could be only one reason why a perfectly fit woman shouldn’t fly. ‘She’s pregnant!’

Noah eyed her sudden pallor. ‘You didn’t know?’

‘Obviously not. Presumably, after all the lectures about the dangers of unwanted pregnancies, Dad found it difficult to tell me.’

A small muscle tightened at the side of his mouth. ‘This baby may not have been planned, but if you believe that it’s unwanted I suggest you think again. When I had lunch with your father last week he was overjoyed at the possibility of a son. I certainly understand why he wouldn’t want any more daughters.’ He glanced around him. ‘Although I can see that you might be a little piqued at having to step aside and surrender all this for such a late arrival.’

‘Step aside?’ Lizzie repeated, too bewildered for a moment to respond more vigorously to his barely cloaked aggression. A baby? For a moment—just a moment—she thought that everything might, after all, work out. Then she knew, understood the full horror of that triumphant telephone call the day after the wedding had been announced, when Olivia had thought that she was in the house alone.

‘We’re saved, darling. I’ve got the man in the palm of my hand. Lord, but it took some acting to convince the old fool... But it’s the perfect cover...’

There had been a pause and Olivia had laughed softly. ‘I can’t run away from my honeymoon, my darling, much as I’d like to. But after that, well...I’m keeping my London flat so I can see you any time I want. The only fly in the ointment is Daddy’s little girl...she’s so protective...but I’m working on a little plan to deal with her...’ And after a few more seconds there had been the little ting as the phone had been replaced.

And Olivia hadn’t wasted any time putting her plan into action. The next day her father had called her into the study and suggested that she might like to spend a few weeks in London. It would give Olivia a chance to take control of the house, he had explained. With Lizzie there...well, the staff would naturally look first to her... He knew she would understand.

Olivia’s brother had kindly offered to put Lizzie up at his London home for a few weeks, he told her. There had been just a touch of awkwardness about his smile. She had spent too much time looking after her old dad, he’d said, and patted her hand. Noah would see that she had some real fun.

How reasonable it would have sounded if she hadn’t known better. It was then that she had made the mistake of trying to tell her father what Olivia was really like beneath that sugar-sweet exterior.

Now she stared at Noah. Whatever ‘little plan’ Olivia had devised, her brother was quite obviously a part of it. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, turning abruptly away.

‘Quick as you can, Elizabeth. And don’t forget the long dress.’

She glared at him, but didn’t bother to reply. She would be quick, but not because he demanded it. Her own desperate need to get away from all of them was encouragement enough. And she certainly wouldn’t be needing a long dress.

She regarded her reflection in the cheval-glass in the corner of her bedroom with distaste. Was it only a few hours ago when she had stood in that same spot, certain that if Peter responded to her olive branch, came to the wedding, it might just be possible to make a life for herself, to be strong for the time when her father would need her again?