Second Chance With Lord Branscombe

‘I’m sure he’ll be fine without me for a while. Besides, I’ve said all I need to say to him for now. He knows my opinion. I’ve no doubt he and Maurice will be battling things out for another hour or so yet.’

They walked out of the white-painted building and stood by the railings on the cliff path, looking out over the rugged crags to the beach below. ‘I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to see you with Jake,’ Nate said. ‘You were always good friends...but I saw that he kissed you. Are you and he a couple now?’ He was studying her intently. ‘Are things serious between you?’

She blinked at the suddenness of the question. She’d forgotten how direct he could be. ‘Oh, we met up again fairly recently,’ she answered cautiously. ‘I think he’s fond of me but, really, we’re just friends.’ She suspected Jake would like to take things further, but after a couple of ill-fated relationships over the last few years, she wasn’t about to step into another one in a hurry. Perhaps she was the problem. She’d seen what had happened with her parents’ marriage and she wasn’t ready to put her trust in anyone any time soon.

‘I see.’ He studied her closely as though gauging her response. He didn’t seem to believe the ‘just friends’ scenario. ‘I’ve always cared for you, Sophie. You know that, don’t you? It was hard for me to see you hurting so much after what happened to your father. I felt perhaps you blamed me in some way—perhaps you thought I should have tried to stop my father from flying—’

‘You must have known he had angina.’ She stared at him, and the pain must have been clear in her eyes. ‘Surely there was something you could have done?’

His gaze travelled over her, searing her with its intensity. ‘You know what he’s like. He never admits to weakness. And I was working at a hospital in Cornwall at the time.’ His mouth flattened. ‘Sophie, I never wanted there to be this rift between us. You didn’t seem to want me around but I always hoped—’

She stopped him before he could say any more. ‘No—let’s not go there,’ she said quickly, anxious to ward off complications. He’d gone away to work abroad, leaving her to pick up the pieces. Perhaps, like he’d said, it was hard for him to see her pain, to witness the heartache his father had caused. ‘A lot’s happened in the last few years. I’m sure we’re very different people now—leastways, I know I am. These past two years have changed me.’ She braced her shoulders. ‘So what’s happening with you? Is there someone in your life these days?’

He pulled a face and shrugged. ‘You know me,’ he said. ‘Can’t settle—too much going on all the while.’

‘Hmm. And it’s going to take time, isn’t it, to find the right woman...the one with the class and breeding to take her place at Branscombe Manor?’ She said it with a smile, with the wry knowledge that he would most likely exhaust all possibilities before making his pick.

‘Oh, you know me so well, don’t you?’ he said with a short laugh, reading her mind. ‘Or at least you always thought you did.’ He sobered, studying her thoughtfully.

‘Oh, cryptic now, are we?’ She let that one pass and asked seriously, ‘So...have you come back to sort out the estate?’

He raised a dark brow. ‘Can you imagine my father letting me do that? He’s never listened to any ideas that don’t go along with his way of thinking, from me or anyone. That’s why we argued and it’s another reason why I left. He’s always been a stubborn man, determined to do things his own way.’

‘Yes, but you can be a bit like that sometimes,’ she said, challenging him. ‘Isn’t there a bit of like father, like son? After all, you decided on medicine as a career and went your own way, even though you knew your father was set against it.’

‘True,’ he conceded, ‘but I felt very strongly about becoming a doctor. I’m lucky, far more fortunate than a lot of people—I was able to dip into my trust-fund money to get me through university because he wouldn’t support me in my choice. He wanted me to go in a completely different direction and learn everything there was about Estate Management so that I could take over one day, but I couldn’t do what he asked. We settled the argument eventually, but it was always a sore point with him.’

‘Some people around here think you don’t care about the estate, or the village.’

‘Is that what you believe?’ He shot her a lancing green stare.

‘I think I know you better than that...but I’d like to hear your side of things.’

He made a grimace. ‘It’s not true that I don’t care. Of course I care. It’s my heritage. The Manor has been in our family for generations and I want to keep it that way. I would have been fine with taking on the estate when the time came. I would have done whatever was needed, with the help of managers and estate workers, but my father wouldn’t tolerate any of my ideas. Whenever I suggested changes that I felt would be for the better, he said things were all right as they were. He made things impossible for me. I wasn’t prepared to be just a figurehead, keeping things ticking along in the same old way.’

She nodded, acknowledging the truth of that. Her father had often hinted at how difficult it was to work with Lord Branscombe. ‘How are you getting along with him now that you’re back?’

He shrugged. ‘We still don’t see eye to eye, but we get on fine. When I heard that his angina was worsening I had to come back, to make sure he’s all right. I didn’t see that I had any choice. My father can be difficult, but he’s all I have and I’m his only son, so, despite our differences, we have a strong bond. We’ve come through a lot together over the years and we’ve learned to understand one another.’

‘And how is he, really? He hasn’t been looking too good lately.’

‘Do you care?’ His gaze narrowed on her, a muscle in his jaw flexing. ‘After what happened to your father, do you actually care what happens to him?’

She winced as his shot struck home. ‘If I’m honest, I’d like to be able to say...no, I don’t care...but I’m a human being and I’m a doctor, so it’s probably inbuilt in me to show concern for anyone who’s suffering. I still blame him for what happened to my father, but I can’t do anything to change the past, can I? Somehow, I have to try to accept it and move on.’

He sighed. ‘I’m sorry, Sophie. I’d give anything for it not to have happened.’ He reached for her, his hand lightly smoothing over the bare skin of her arm. His touch disarmed her, sending a trail of fire to course through her body and undermine all her carefully shored-up defences. Against all common sense she found herself desperately wanting more.

She couldn’t think clearly while he was touching her, holding her this way. She looked at him, absorbing his strong features, the proud way he tilted his head, and wished more than ever that things could be different between them. But it could never be. Not when his father was responsible for the accident that caused her father’s terrible injuries.

‘I know you’re sorry...but it’s too late for regrets now, isn’t it? If you’d known about his angina earlier, you might have stopped him from taking off that day. But you didn’t.’ The words came out on a breathless whisper as she gently eased herself away from him. A look of anguish briefly crossed his face and she said quietly, ‘I suppose Charlotte has been making sure you knew how your father was getting along?’

‘Yes—if it had been left to him I would never have known how serious his condition had turned out to be. He’s far too stubborn for that. But Charlotte has been keeping me up to date, especially after the newspaper stories came out about the investments failing and he took a turn for the worse. We all thought his angina was under control, but his condition has deteriorated and it’s become unstable of late.’

She nodded. ‘Charlotte’s always been more than just a housekeeper to you, hasn’t she—from when you were little?’

He smiled. ‘That’s right. She’s looked out for me ever since I was nine years old—from when my mother died. She was always there for me when I needed her. She always seemed to know what was going on in my head, the things that frustrated me or made me happy. Truthfully, she’s been like a second mother to me. I’ll always want to keep her close.’

She smiled. ‘I know. I’ve always liked Charlotte.’ She gazed up at him. From a very young age he’d had a number of pseudo-stepmothers foisted on him as his father brought home a succession of girlfriends, but Charlotte had stayed through it all, his salvation, the one fixed point in his young life that never wavered.

It had been hard for him back then. Going round and about the village with him and their friends as they grew up, Sophie had seen the effect the loss of his mother had on him. Perhaps seeing his vulnerability was what had drawn her to him in the first place. His father hadn’t known how to deal with such a young, bewildered and frustrated boy and simply lost himself in keeping up with his contacts in the business world, in the City. Gradually, Nate had built a shell around himself. No one was going to penetrate his armour...no one except Sophie. Her parents had been going through a difficult time in their marriage and she and Nate had been like kindred souls.

Nate shot her a quick glance. ‘She told me she hasn’t seen your father in a while. Usually she sees him around the village, at the post office or the grocery store at least once a week, but lately she’s missed him.’ His voice deepened with concern. ‘How is he? Is he still able to get about in the wheelchair?’

‘Yes—he’s not been out and about lately because he’s getting over a nasty chest infection but he manages very well, all things considered.’

‘I heard he was having specialist treatment?’

‘Yes, that’s right. He was in hospital for a long time, as you know, and we were afraid he might never walk again—but thankfully he’s making progress. His spinal cord wasn’t cut right through, but it has taken a long time to heal, along with the broken bones—he still has physiotherapy several times a week. It’s a struggle for him, but he’s not one to give up. He generally tries to take things one day at a time. We’re hoping that he’ll be able to walk with a frame before too long.’

‘I’m so sorry, Sophie. If there’s anything I can do—’ He tried to reach for her but she took a step backwards. It was far too unsettling to have him touch her. Frowning, he let his arms fall to his sides.

‘It’s all right; I know you would do anything you can to help.’

‘My father said he tried to make amends but your father won’t talk to him—all their communication is being carried out through lawyers.’

‘That’s right.’ She shot him a quick glance. ‘Do you blame him?’

‘I suppose not...but nothing’s ever going to be achieved by not talking to one another.’

Her back stiffened. ‘The accident changed everything. He should never have gone up in that plane with your father—Lord Branscombe seemed unwell from the first but he insisted he was perfectly fit and able to fly. We’d no idea he was suffering from a heart condition. He should have been stopped. It wasn’t even as though the journey was important. He just wanted to check out the site of a new golf course he was planning.’ She wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture. ‘It was totally Lord Branscombe’s fault, but afterwards he replaced my father as Estate Manager and didn’t even offer him a desk job overseeing things.’

Nate frowned. ‘My father said he and the lawyers were talking about compensation.’

She gave a short humourless laugh. ‘Compensation? What compensation? Your father had been having angina attacks for some time without telling the authorities. He knew it would affect his pilot licence if he said anything—and when the insurance company found out about that they wouldn’t pay out. My father lost everything—his job, his house. He had to sell up and go into rented property.’

‘I know—he’s in one of the houses on the estate.’ Nate’s eyes darkened. ‘It was me who made sure he had somewhere to go... As for the rest, my father said everything was being dealt with. I’m sorry if that wasn’t the case... I’ve been working away quite a bit in the States, so I couldn’t oversee things for myself. I wanted to, but...you didn’t seem to want me around and then this job came up... I thought, perhaps, you would find it easier if I wasn’t around...’

She turned her back to the sea and leaned against the railing, facing him. She wouldn’t be drawn into that conversation again, not now. It was too difficult. ‘Will you be going back there?’

‘No, this last stint was just a six-months contract in the paediatric intensive care unit in Boston. I have a job lined up here in Devon, so I’ll be able to keep an eye on things from now on. It’s what I’ve been working towards. This business with my father just moved things forward a bit.’ His gaze moved over her, gliding over her slender curves, outlined by the simple sheath dress she was wearing. ‘Better still,’ he said in a roughened voice, ‘it means I’ll be able to see more of you. Perhaps you and I could start over...?’

Her heartbeat quickened and her cheeks flushed with heat. ‘Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ she countered in a low voice, her throat suddenly constricted. If Nate thought he could erase the last two years and swoop back into her life, he had another think coming.

‘Are you sure about that?’ He was looking at her in that devilish way that had her nervous system on red alert and he was moving closer, the glint in his green eyes full of promise...

It was a promise that never came to fruition. Shouts came from above them, shocking her system and acting like a dash of cold water to propel them away from one another.

‘Help, someone...come quickly—we need help here! Is Nate Branscombe still around? Is that his car in the car park?’

Startled, Sophie looked up to where the sound came from, up on the restaurant’s terrace. She saw people getting to their feet, rushing towards the corner table, barely visible from this angle.

A man came to lean over the balustrade, looking down at them, waving his arms urgently. ‘Nate, will you come up? It’s your father. He’s collapsed.’

‘Call for an ambulance,’ Nate shouted back. He was already taking the steps, racing to get to his father, but instead of following him Sophie hurried towards the car park. Her medical bag was in the boot of her car. Her instincts told her they might need it.

When she reached the corner table a few minutes later, she could see that James Branscombe was sitting propped up against the balustrade. His skin looked clammy, ashen as he groaned in pain. Sophie guessed he was having a bad angina attack, which meant his heart wasn’t receiving enough oxygen and had to work harder to get what it needed.

Nate had loosened his father’s shirt collar and was kneeling by him, talking to him quietly and trying to reassure him. ‘Is your nitro spray in your pocket?’ he asked, but James Branscombe was barely able to speak. Nate searched through his pockets until he found what he was looking for and then quickly sprayed the liquid under his father’s tongue. The medication would dilate the blood vessels, allowing blood to flow more easily and thereby lessening the heart’s workload.

Nate glanced at Sophie as she came to kneel down beside him. His expression was grim; his fear for his father was etched on his face. He seemed relieved to see that Sophie was by his side, though. ‘You have your medical bag?’ he said. ‘That’s good. Do you have aspirin in there?’

‘I do—they’re chewable ones, or he can dissolve them on his tongue.’ She opened the case and handed him the tablets. They would thin the blood and hopefully would prevent blood clots from closing up the arteries.

After a few minutes, though, it was clear that Lord Branscombe was still in a lot of pain. His features were grey, his lips taking on a bluish colour, and beads of cold sweat had broken out on his brow. Sophie guessed this was more than a bad angina attack. She was worried for Nate; this must be something he’d dreaded, the real reason he’d come home.

‘Morphine?’ Nate asked, and she nodded.

‘Yes, I have it. I’ll prepare a syringe.’

‘Thanks.’ He administered the pain medication and soon afterwards wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his father’s arm. ‘He’s becoming hypotensive,’ he said, frowning. ‘I’ll put in an intravenous line—as soon as the paramedics get here we can put him on a saline drip to stabilise his blood pressure.’

They didn’t have to wait too long. The ambulance arrived shortly, siren blaring, and the two paramedics hurried on to the terrace. They nodded to Sophie, recognising her from her work at the hospital.

Nate swiftly introduced himself and said, ‘I think my father’s having a heart attack. We need to get an ECG reading and send it to the Emergency department.’

‘Okay. We’ll make sure they’re kept informed.’

‘Thank you.’

One of the paramedics set up the portable ECG machine, whilst the other man began to give the patient oxygen through a mask. Nate helped them to lift his father on to a stretcher, and then together they carried him down to the waiting ambulance.

‘His blood pressure’s dropping.’ The paramedic sounded the alarm and Nate reacted swiftly, setting up a saline drip and giving his father drugs to support his heart’s action. Sophie stood by as the three men worked on Lord Branscombe.

‘He’s gone into V-fib. Stand clear.’ Nate called out a warning as his father’s heart rhythm went awry and the defibrillator readied itself to give a shock to the heart. He checked his father’s vital signs. ‘And again, stand clear.’

Her heart went out to him as he exhausted every effort to save his father’s life. She saw the worry etched on his face and suddenly wanted to put her arms around him and comfort him, but of course she couldn’t do anything of the sort.

‘All right,’ he said eventually. ‘He’s stable for now. I’ll go with him to the hospital.’

The paramedic nodded. ‘Okay, we’re ready to go. The emergency team’s alerted and waiting for him.’

‘That’s good.’ Nate turned to Sophie, who was waiting by the ambulance doors. ‘I want to thank you for all your help,’ he said softly. He reached out and gently cupped her arms with his long fingers. ‘I owe you. I’ll make it up to you, Sophie, I promise.’

She shook her head, making her soft curls quiver and dance. ‘There’s no need for you to do that. I was glad to help.’ No matter what bad feelings she might harbour about James Branscombe, she couldn’t have stood by and done nothing to save him. Working alongside Nate, though, had been another matter entirely. She hadn’t been prepared for that and the effect it had on her at all.

The paramedic closed the doors of the ambulance and climbed into the driver’s seat. Sophie stood by the roadside and watched the vehicle pull away and it was as though the world was sliding from under her feet. She reached out to rest a hand on a nearby drystone wall.

Nate had been back for only five minutes and already she felt as though she’d been hit by an electric storm. How on earth was she going to cope, knowing he meant to stay around and once more make his home at Branscombe Manor?

CHAPTER TWO

‘COME ON IN, then, Charlie.’ Sophie let herself into her father’s kitchen and then stood to one side to let the excited yellow Labrador follow her. He was carrying his lead in his mouth as usual—she always let him walk home the last few yards untethered. She went over to the sink and filled the dog bowl with fresh cold water. ‘Okay, I’ll swap you—you give me the lead and I’ll let you have the water.’ It was a ritual they followed every time they went out.

Charlie obligingly dropped the loop handle and she unclipped the lead from his collar and put it away. He drank thirstily and then dropped to the floor, panting heavily and watching her as she washed her hands and then filled the kettle and switched it on.

She gazed out of the window at the neat lawn and the garden with its bright flower borders. There were scarlet surfinias in tubs that reminded her of that day at the restaurant when she’d met up with Nate. It had been almost two weeks ago and she hadn’t seen anything more of him since then but she guessed he was probably spending a lot of his time visiting his father in the Coronary Care Unit.

‘He looks suitably worn out.’ Her father wheeled himself into the kitchen, breaking into her thoughts and smiling as he looked over at the dog. ‘Just as well, if the physio’s coming here later on. Charlie can be a bit too exuberant at times.’

Sophie smiled with him and pushed a cup of tea across the table towards him. ‘He’s not slowing down at all, is he? You’d have thought at eight years old there would have been a few signs of maturity by now, wouldn’t you?’

‘You would.’

Her father had bought Charlie as a pup, a couple of years after his marriage to her mother had broken down. He’d taken him with him everywhere, even to his work on the estate, and they’d roamed the woods and fields together, man and dog.

‘How’s the work going with the physio?’ she asked now, as she slid bread into the toaster. Every morning before work, she came over to the house to have breakfast with her father.

‘We’re getting there, I reckon.’ He paused, thinking about it. ‘When she came yesterday I stood for a while with the frame, and I even managed to take a couple of steps.’

‘You did?’ He looked deservedly pleased with himself and Sophie stopped what she was doing and rushed over to him. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ She hugged him fiercely. ‘I’m thrilled to bits for you. That’s amazing.’

‘Yes, it’s definitely a step forward...’ He chuckled at his own joke and she laughed with him. ‘Seriously, with all the treatment I’ve been having at the hospital, and now these sessions at home with the physio, I feel as though I’m making progress. It’s been a long job, but I’m getting there at last.’

They ate cereals and toast and chatted for a while, but Sophie soon realised her father had something else on his mind. ‘I’ve been hearing rumours,’ he said, ‘about Branscombe losing all his money and the estate houses being put on the market. Do you know anything about that?’

‘Not really.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t suppose we’ll know anything more until Lord Branscombe is out of hospital. Nate’s looking after things in the meantime, but—’

‘You’ve seen him again?’ Martin Trent’s voice was sharp, his whole manner on the alert all at once.

‘No...no, not since I saw him that day at the Seafarer when his father was taken ill.’ Sophie hastily tried to calm him. It was true. She hadn’t seen him. She wasn’t going to tell him that she’d phoned the Manor House the next day to find out how Lord Branscombe was faring. After all, it had been an innocent enquiry—she’d expected to talk to Charlotte, and it had been a shock to have Nate answer the phone.

‘I haven’t seen him,’ she said again, calmly, concerned that her father was still looking tense, his fingers gripping tightly on the arms of his wheelchair, ‘so I assume he’s busy visiting his father and talking to the Estate Manager to see how they can keep things jogging along.’

‘Hmmph.’ He slumped back in his seat. ‘I don’t want either of us to have anything more to do with that family. James is an arrogant, self-centred womaniser and his son is likely no better.’

‘We don’t know that Nate is like that,’ she said in a reasonable tone. ‘He hasn’t been around here for any length of time these past few years, has he, so how can we judge him?’

‘He can’t escape heredity,’ her father said flatly. ‘It’ll be in the genes. That’s all you need to know. Besides, he upset you... I know you and he argued but you were broken-hearted when he went away.’

‘It was a bad time. You were injured and struggling to come to terms with being disabled and I was confused and lashed out.’ Sophie sighed inwardly. She understood her father’s dislike of the Branscombes and his hostility towards them. After all, he’d worked for Lord Branscombe for years and had suffered in the end because of it, but it was hard for her to share his animosity towards the son. Her mind drifted back to that last conversation she’d had with Nate.