A Man To Marry
Cat didn’t know what explanation she had been expecting, but it certainly hadn’t been the one Caleb Reynolds had just given. And poor Kate seemed to be having trouble keeping up with the conversation at all.
‘Clive Reynolds,’ he explained as their shocked silence continued. ‘The house was actually named after him. His name is carved into the stonework on the front of the house,’ he added as he still received no response from either of the two women.
Clive Reynolds… He was right, it was. But time and familiarity had dulled for them the awareness of that name and a date, 1850, etched into the stone directly above the front door. Clive Reynolds. This man’s great-great-grandfather…
The surname was obviously the same, and yet…
‘What a coincidence.’ Once again Cat’s barely veiled scepticism could be heard, and the sudden hardness of his grey eyes said Caleb Reynolds was well aware of it!
‘Not at all,’ he bit out crisply. ‘I’m in the area because I have some research to do at the museum in York, but I chose this village for my stay deliberately once I realised about the house. I’m curious to know whether or not my ancestor built any other houses in the area.’
‘Doubtful,’ Cat couldn’t resist snapping. ‘It’s hardly the sort of area that could have supported two such grand houses,’ she elaborated as he looked at her icily.
‘I’m a historian, Cat,’ Caleb Reynolds told her evenly, deliberately seeming to keep all emotion from his voice. Although his eyes were a different matter: hard, glacial, narrowed to icy slits as he looked steadily at Cat. ‘But I specialise in architecture. Perhaps only naturally with an architect as an ancestor,’ he added almost confrontationally.
Cat didn’t see what was ‘natural’ about it at all; her own father trained and bred horses, but she had always been—to her father’s dismay—terrified of them. They were beautiful and powerful to look at and admire from a distance, but completely unpredictable in close proximity, she had found. Exactly like Caleb Reynolds…
She brought her thoughts up short. Really! Caleb Reynolds might be powerful and attractive, but he certainly wasn’t beautiful! What on earth was she thinking of? Or maybe she just wasn’t thinking at all… And, around this man, that could be dangerous!
He certainly didn’t look like any historian she had ever seen, on television or in the newspapers, most of them old and fusty-looking, as if they belonged in the past with their textbooks!
‘In the circumstances, I quite understand your interest in this house.’ Kate had recovered enough to be able to take over their half of the conversation.
Which was perhaps as well; Cat, with her usual forthright manner, only seemed to be antagonising Caleb Reynolds! His knowledge of at least one past owner of the house was now more easily explained, although why he couldn’t have told them all of this yesterday was still a mystery…
‘And I’m sure, at some convenient time to all of us, that it could be arranged for you to look round the house,’ Kate continued politely. ‘Although, as I’m sure you appreciate, the house has been completely modernised over the years!’
‘We even have mains sewage nowadays!’ Cat put in sharply, ignoring Kate’s pained wince. Damn it, the man was the one asking them a favour, and a damned inconvenient one at that.
She wished now that it had been Toby at the front door earlier; she wouldn’t have had any trouble saying no to any ‘secrets’ he might have wanted to share!
‘I’m sure you do,’ Caleb drawled drily, one dark brow raised questioningly at her continued aggression. ‘And don’t worry, I wasn’t asking if I could look round right this minute,’ he turned to tell Kate charmingly. ‘I more than appreciate the fact that I’ve rather sprung this on you. I also realise that you have other considerations to take into account.’
Cat looked at him sharply, not fooled for a moment by that charm which he seemed to be able to turn on and off at will—it was usually off when he was talking to her! ‘What “other considerations”?’ she enquired warily.
‘The playschool, of course,’ he returned easily. ‘I appreciate I couldn’t just stroll about during the day when you have all the children in your care.’
She had news for him; he couldn’t ‘just stroll about’ their home when the children weren’t here, either! He really was the most—
‘There’s also Kate’s grandmother to consider,’ he continued evenly.
Stunned didn’t even begin to describe their silence this time—more like electric. This man, completely unknown to them until roughly thirty-six hours ago, knew far too much about their home and them; Cat was absolutely positive that neither she nor Kate had mentioned her grandmother to this man yesterday! But Cat’s earlier summing-up of this man still stood; getting information out of him that he didn’t want to give was like getting blood out of a stone. Though he had just spoken readily enough about his reason for being in the area, about his great-great-grandfather being the architect of this house, which was the reason he wanted to look round it, all that information had been volunteered—making Cat wonder exactly what it was he wasn’t saying!
Cat glanced across at Kate now, seeing all too easily how the colour had faded from her friend’s cheeks, the way she looked at Caleb Reynolds in fascinated horror. Once again like the snake and its victim!
‘Don’t tell me,’ Cat put in scornfully. ‘Lilley at the post office, again!’ She gave a derisive shake of her head. ‘Really, Caleb,’ she taunted. ‘I would never have taken you for the gossiping kind!’
He looked nonplussed. ‘I wasn’t aware that you had ‘taken’ me at all, Cat,’ he returned mockingly, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes at the way her cheeks suddenly burned. ‘But you’re right about the gossip,’ he continued before she could make any reply to his innuendo. ‘When I made my initial enquiries about Clive House I was told that a Miss Brady and a Miss Rourke lived here with Miss Brady’s grandmother.’
Innocent enough. It certainly wasn’t a secret that Kate’s grandmother lived here with them. It was just thoroughly disconcerting that this man should know so much about them! And not just from Lilley at the post office, either… So where had he got his information? And why? So far he had been very cagey about his reason for being in the area. And if he should turn out to be a reporter…! Cat had allowed one reporter too close to her once, no matter how unwittingly, and she wouldn’t let it happen again!
He looked at them both with assessing eyes. ‘I wasn’t aware I was saying something out of turn…?’
‘You didn’t,’ Kate answered him with a return of confidence. ‘Kitty—my grandmother—does live here with us. But she isn’t in the best of health, has few visitors, and goes out even less, and I would rather talk to her before you look round the house. I think you’ll be quite impressed when you see all of it,’ she assured him. ‘It’s really been very well looked after, with a lot of the original features kept in place—’
‘He doesn’t want to buy the house, Kate,’ Cat snapped. ‘Just look at it!’
‘I can see I’ve taken up enough of your time for one evening,’ Caleb put in sardonically, moving to the door. ‘So I’ll leave you all in peace.’
Peace? The man didn’t know the meaning of the word!
‘I’ll see you out.’ Kate followed him.
‘Cat.’ He paused at the door to nod abruptly in parting.
‘Mr Reynolds,’ she returned tersely.
She hadn’t moved when Kate returned to the sitting-room a few minutes later, looking up at her friend with bright green eyes. ‘He’s right,’ Cat told Kate fiercely, ‘I don’t like him!’ Her eyes flashed angrily.
‘He’s—unsettling,’ Kate acknowledged more cautiously.
‘Kate, the man is arrogant and condescending—and I don’t trust him one little bit!’
‘Let’s not get all of this out of proportion,’ Kate warned. ‘Admittedly I was a bit surprised when he said he would like to look round the house, but as his great-great-grandfather designed it—’
‘So he says!’ Cat snapped, scowling darkly. ‘Reynolds isn’t exactly an uncommon name, Kate,’ she pointed out scornfully as her friend looked at her questioningly. ‘And he mentioned nothing yesterday about his ancestor having designed this house, only came up with that idea today—when the name is engraved on the front of the house for all to see!’
Kate looked bewildered. ‘You don’t think Clive Reynolds was his great-great-grandfather…?’
‘I think it’s all just a little too much of a coincidence,’ Cat said firmly. ‘But I’m going to find out the truth,’ she added determinedly. ‘There are bound to be records, some way I can actually find out if he’s related to Clive Reynolds. In the meantime, I suggest we say nothing to Kitty about this. There’s no point in bothering her with it until we know for certain.’
‘I agree,’ Kate said slowly, momentarily closing her eyes. ‘Will it ever stop, do you think, Cat?’ she added wearily as the two of them strolled back out to the garden.
Cat squeezed her arm reassuringly. ‘Of course it will. We’ve all lived here in relative peace for the last few years; there’s no reason why that shouldn’t continue.’ Caleb Reynolds would be dealt with very firmly if he should turn out to be any other than what he claimed to be. She would see to that. And enjoy doing it, she realised.
‘Hello, darlings.’ Kitty beamed at them both; Kate’s grandmother, who supposedly wasn’t in the best of health, at this moment was down on her hands and knees as she weeded a flower bed!
In her early seventies, Kitty nevertheless looked years younger than that, shoulder-length blonde hair swept back from her face, her face relatively unlined by the years, her figure still youthfully slim as she stood up.
Despite the fact that she hadn’t performed in public for twenty-five years, she was still, to anyone who had admired and known her—as Caleb Reynolds obviously had!—instantly recognisable as the opera singer, Katherine Maitland!
CHAPTER THREE
‘HIS great-great-grandfather was Clive Reynolds,’ Cat announced crossly as she dropped down into one of the chairs placed around the kitchen table.
She had waited until the playschool closed for the day on Tuesday afternoon before going off in the car to the local library. What she had found there hadn’t cheered her up one little bit. She had been so sure there was something about Caleb Reynolds that didn’t ring true… But she was unable to refute his claim when it had been printed there in black and white!
‘That’s wonderful.’ Kate sighed her relief at the news. ‘You managed to find a book on Clive Reynolds, then?’
‘Er—not exactly.’ Cat grimaced. ‘I found a book on Caleb Reynolds,’ she admitted reluctantly. ‘Actually, it was a book he’s written on the history of English architecture, but it had some blurb about the author inside the cover.’ It had been accompanied by a picture of the author, a photograph obviously several years old, no grey visible at the temples in Caleb’s dark hair as there was now, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses making him look studious. As photographs went, Cat had decided, it was pretty uninspiring—and nothing of the man’s intensity in the flesh came through. ‘He apparently became interested in the subject of architecture because of his great-great-grandfather, the architect Clive Reynolds.’ She grudgingly made a direct quote from the personal information given about the author of the book.
Kate grinned her relief, that smile starting to slip as she saw Cat was still scowling. ‘But that’s good news, isn’t it?’
‘I still don’t trust him.’ Cat shook her head stubbornly.
‘You don’t like him,’ Kate corrected. ‘Don’t confuse dislike with distrust.’
‘Why would someone like him move—even temporarily—to a small village like this?’ Cat muttered thoughtfully. Because that information about him inside his book had also listed his qualifications and the achievements he had made in his field; the list of letters behind his name was staggering. Caleb wasn’t only intelligent, but obviously deeply respected in his chosen field…
‘He already explained all that,’ her friend protested at her continued belligerence. ‘He has some research to do at the museum in York, and he’s interested in seeing round this house,’ she reminded her. ‘Heavens, Cat, I don’t remember this reaction from you towards Toby when he moved into one of the cottages in the village almost a year ago!’ She gave Cat an impatient look.
It was true. But then, apart from suggesting that one of them went to bed with him every time they saw him, Toby was harmless enough. And that was one accusation, she was sure, that could never be levelled at Caleb Reynolds!
‘Talking about Toby—’ Kate grimaced ‘—he called round earlier. I told him to come back later and have dinner with us. Kitty will enjoy that,’ she added before Cat could make any comment about Toby being here for a meal yet again.
Kate had used the right argument to silence Cat; Kitty would enjoy having Toby here this evening. Kitty found Toby amusing, enjoyed his company very much, and as he had no idea who she was—or had been!—it meant that Cat and Kate could relax when he was around.
It hadn’t been an easy decision to make when it came to buying this particular house to open their playschool. Kitty had lived in it many years ago, and some of the locals still remembered that—including Lilley at the post office, although she, like the other villagers, never told ‘outsiders’ that Kitty, Kate’s grandmother, and Katherine Maitland were one and the same person.
But Clive House had been on the market at the time they were looking for premises for their playschool, and Kitty had been delighted at the idea of returning to the house where she had lived during her married life, where she had brought up her children. To give the villagers their due, once the initial interest had worn off, they had rallied round Kitty in a protective way that didn’t allow outsiders into the fact that they had a celebrity—albeit a retired one—living amongst them! For twenty-five years Kitty had stayed out of the public eye, deliberately so; the family tragedy that Caleb had referred to yesterday had given her every reason never to open herself up to that sort of interest ever again.
When Kitty had first made her decision never to sing in public again, she had been hounded for months by newspapers anxious to buy her story. Over the years that intense interest had faded, but the media was always conscious that it could as quickly be revived. But Kitty didn’t need that; she enjoyed the calm and tranquillity she had been able to find in the village amongst old friends.
So the buying of Clive House had proved a good decision for all of them, the playschool a great success, and, best of all, Kitty was happy.
But Cat couldn’t help her nagging feeling that Caleb’s presence here was somehow going to change all that…
‘Okay.’ She stood up decisively, doing her best to shake off those feelings of gloom; Kate was right, she shouldn’t confuse dislike with distrust. Besides, she didn’t exactly dislike Caleb… ‘What can I do to help prepare this evening’s culinary delight?’ she offered, determined not to even think of Caleb again tonight.
Kate raised blonde brows. ‘But it’s my turn to get the meal tonight. And I thought you hated cooking?’ she added teasingly as she got vegetables from the rack.
‘I do,’ Cat acknowledged just as lightly, taking over the peeling of the carrots. ‘If it weren’t for you and Kitty, I would just live out of tins!’
Kate nodded smilingly. ‘As Kitty is fond of saying, pity the poor man you marry!’
It was a standing joke between the three of them that if Cat ever married it would have to be to someone who knew how to cook himself—or else he would starve!
‘And break up this happy trio?’ Cat grinned without ran-cour. ‘No way!’
The two of them worked together in companionable silence, this the time of day when Kitty, if she wasn’t helping with the preparation, usually took her rest. But she would be bright and sparkling this evening for dinner, had lost none of her charm, or the ‘electricity’, as Caleb had called it, that had endeared her to audiences all over the world at the height of her career.
Damn, Cat had just thought of Caleb again! Why did she keep doing that? What—?
‘Good evening, ladies—we were just driving past, and Adam insisted we stop to say hello,’ Caleb announced apologetically as Cat had dropped the knife noisily into the sink at the first sound of his voice.
Cat was amazed at his familiarity; he and his son had just walked around to the side door and into the kitchen! Although, to give Caleb his due, he did look a little uncomfortable at the obvious intrusion; it was Adam, silently chuckling as he stood at his father’s side, who looked pleased with himself.
‘I did ring the front doorbell,’ Caleb pleaded as their surprised silence continued. ‘But it doesn’t seem to be working…’
‘Toby mentioned something about it earlier.’ Kate grimaced in apology, drying her hands on the towel. ‘It must be broken again,’ she told Cat.
Cat was still staring at Caleb, so tall and dark and dominating, broodingly attractive in a black shirt and black denims. So much for not even thinking of him again this evening—she didn’t need to; he was becoming as regular a visitor as Toby. Albeit this time at Adam’s bidding…
‘I could take a look at it for you, if you like,’ Caleb offered.
‘Er—Cat usually sees to those sort of things,’ Kate excused, giving Cat a slightly wary glance.
But she needn’t have worried about Cat being offended by the offer. If the doorbell had broken yet again, Cat accepted that obviously she wasn’t any better at maintaining the electrical appliances in this house than she was at cooking! Besides, this man, with all those letters he had after his name, should be able to fix a doorbell.
‘Be my guest,’ she invited. ‘I’ll get you the appropriate screwdriver and leave you to it. Then I’ll be free to take Adam outside to the swings,’ she added gleefully to the little boy, the widening of his grin enough to tell her he found this plan to his satisfaction. ‘There you go.’ She barely glanced at Caleb as she handed him the earthed screwdriver, reaching out for Adam’s hand. ‘To the swings!’ she told the child excitedly, and they ran out of the house together and round to where the swings and slides were situated.
‘Hello there, you two.’ Kitty looked up from where she sat reading her book, her hair glowing golden in the early evening sunlight, blue eyes glowing with pleasure as she looked at Adam. ‘A friend of yours, Cat?’ she asked gently as he instantly hid behind Cat’s legs.
‘He certainly is.’ Cat went down on her haunches beside the suddenly shy little boy, reminded of the nervous child she had met that first day. She hadn’t realised that Kitty was outside in the garden—would have been even more annoyed at Caleb’s familiarity if she had!—but as Kitty loved young children, and they usually took to her too, she was sure it wasn’t going to be a problem. Besides, she and Kate had talked to Kitty about Adam, had known that she would understand…
‘This is my new friend, Adam,’ Cat introduced softly. ‘Adam, this is another friend of mine. Her name is Kitty.’
‘Have you met our cat yet, Adam?’ Kitty enquired as their ginger tabby rubbed against her ankles. ‘Her name is Madam Butterfly, but we call her Maddie for short.’ She smiled encouragingly at the little boy as she leant down and carefully picked up the cat and cradled her in her arms. ‘Maddie is going to have some baby kittens of her own very soon,’ she added fondly.
This would be Maddie’s second set of kittens in a year, but as they had had no trouble finding homes for her last litter they didn’t envisage a problem with the next either. ‘You’ll have to come back and see them once they’re born,’ Cat told Adam, aware that time was passing. The last thing she wanted was for Caleb to come out into the garden in search of them. Toby might be completely ignorant when it came to opera, and particularly so when it came to Kitty’s past fame, but Caleb had already shown that he wasn’t…
Adam’s face lit up at the thought of the kittens, making it easier for Cat to gently direct him away to the swings. He really was the most adorable child, she decided as she pushed him on the swing; his eyes were alight with pleasure and there were dimples in his thin cheeks as he smiled widely.
How sad that he had already known such unhappiness in his young life. He and Kitty had so much in common, she realised. Two kindred spirits…
‘Penny for them?’ Caleb murmured softly.
Cat gave a start, turning to him with annoyance; she had been so concentrated on Adam, so deep in thought, she hadn’t even been aware of Caleb’s approach across the garden.
She glanced quickly across to the rose garden where Kitty had been sitting. Kitty had, as was usual when there were people around that she didn’t know, quietly disappeared back into her own suite of rooms inside the house.
Cat turned back to Caleb, smiling brightly now—probably more than was warranted if the way Caleb’s eyes had narrowed was anything to go by! ‘Sometimes it’s nice to put your brain in neutral and just coast along for a while,’ she said breezily.
He nodded. ‘Your doorbell is working again,’ he informed her, taking over pushing Adam on the swing.
‘Thank you.’ She now felt a little shamefaced at the way she had just left him to it.
Caleb shrugged. ‘I’m glad I was able to be of help. I was wondering…’
‘Yes?’ she prompted abruptly, instantly on the defensive, wondering if he could have seen Kitty after all.
He looked at her steadily. ‘I was wondering if you would have dinner with me this evening.’
Cat couldn’t have been more taken aback if he had suggested she take off all her clothes and dance naked around the lawn!
‘Me?’ she squeaked, at once realising how ridiculous the question sounded. And unsophisticated. As if men didn’t very often invite her out to dinner. But then, that was true…
To make matters worse, Caleb laughed at her obvious surprise! Admittedly that laugh greatly improved his looks, dispelling the arctic chill from his eyes, and his teeth very white and even, dimples very similar to Adam’s now visible beside his mouth. Although on a man in his late thirties they were probably called laughter lines, Cat conceded wryly.
‘Sorry.’ He sobered slowly, lips still quirked with humour. ‘It just wasn’t the usual reaction I get to a dinner invitation!’
She could well imagine that it wasn’t! But, considering he had been a married man until six months ago, how many of these sort of invitations had he made lately?
‘I’m just surprised I’m the person you’re asking out to dinner,’ she told him with her usual blunt honesty.
He raised one dark brow, lifting Adam down from the swing, the three of them walking back to the house now. ‘As opposed to…?’
‘Anyone!’ She grimaced; they had seemed to antagonise each other from the word go!
Caleb chuckled softly. ‘I like your honesty, Cat. One thing I can’t stand in a woman is pretence,’ he explained, a touch of bitterness in his voice now.
She gave him a searching look, but there was nothing to be read from his expression. Not that she had thought there would be. In his field of architectural history, Caleb was—quite literally!—an open book, as she had discovered at the library earlier this evening. As a father he was obviously caring and loving. But as a man—! Caleb Reynolds, the man, was an enigma. And not least because of his invitation to her!
She drew in a deep breath. ‘In that case—’
‘I saw the library books on the table in the hallway,’ he put in quickly. ‘Kate tells me they’re yours?’
He knew damn well that she, with her ‘honesty’, had been about to turn down his dinner invitation! But by mentioning those books in the hallway he had put her in a defensive position. Architecture, especially the history of it, held no interest for her whatsoever, but she hadn’t been able to resist borrowing two books by Caleb that she had found on the library shelves, intending to flick through them later this evening, curious in spite of herself. But she hadn’t expected their author to see them and pass comment!