Sweet Surrender

And there she had met Alasdair Drummond, a veteran of four years at Edinburgh University, and a year at Harvard, and, by the time she’d met him, engaged in research at Trinity. To her incredulous delight, after running into her on her first day Alasdair had taken Kate under his wing, a process which had boosted both her self-confidence and her appearance so rapidly she’d soon been besieged by so many of her male peers she’d been dumbfounded by all the attention. And hadn’t cared a bit for any of it, because she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Alasdair Drummond the moment they’d met.

Kate, too intelligent to deceive herself, had known from the start that the passion was one-sided. Alasdair, five years older in age and a lot more than that in experience, had made it plain he was fond of her, and had taken it on himself to protect her from male predators. But she’d had no illusions about his feelings for her. He had treated her like a kid sister, never as a potential lover. Trying hard to be content with the relationship, she’d cheered him on at rugby matches, felt passionately grateful when he’d taken her with him for a drink afterwards, and preened in secret because it had been taken for granted that they were a couple. But the nearest thing to physical contact with Alasdair had been an occasional—and brotherly—peck on the cheek.

Madly in love for the first time, Kate had eventually grown so frustrated her work had inevitably begun to suffer. Then suddenly, just before Alasdair had been due to leave Cambridge for his first job, she’d locked herself away in her room with only her books for company, pleading pressure of work. She’d refused to socialise with anyone, a mystified Alasdair Drummond included. And, though he’d left to work for an international pharmaceutical company soon afterwards, he’d made a habit of contacting Kate occasionally afterwards to check on her progress.

Then Alasdair’s job had taken him to the States, and communication between them had become rare. But, while visiting his grandparents in Gloucester on a trip to the UK, he had made time for a memorable visit to her home just before Kate started in her first teaching post. In response to his bluntly expressed disapproval of her choice of career she’d lost her temper completely, told him that what she did with her life was her own affair, not his, ended by ordering him out of the house, and had heard no more from him since—until his reappearance today outside school.

Alasdair Drummond, the brilliant research chemist Kate had known in the past, had risen with meteoric speed in his career; she knew only too well. And the combination of success and maturity, she thought irritably, was probably a terrific turn-on for most women. But not for her.

Kate’s phone woke her on the stroke of seven next morning, and she shot up in bed to grab it, breathless as she answered.

‘I obviously woke you up, Miss Dysart,’ said Jack Spencer with remorse. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she assured him. ‘Any news?’

‘John Spencer Cartwright arrived a few hours ago, yelling his head off and complete with a full set of everything. My sister’s in reasonably good shape, apparently—unlike Tim, who’s a gibbering wreck.’

Kate chuckled. ‘Thanks for letting me know. How’s Abby?’

‘On cloud nine because her mother talked to her on the phone the moment she could. Tim passed on your message, so Jules made very sure her special girl knew Mummy loved her to bits.’ Jack Spencer added, ‘My sister’s deeply grateful to you. On all counts.’

‘Only too glad to help.’

‘Miss Dysart, Abby tells me you’re going home for half-term?’

‘That’s right.’

‘When are you leaving?’

‘After lunch. I don’t have far to go. I’ll be home in time for tea.’

‘May I ask where “home” is?’

‘Stavely. About twenty miles from Pennington.’

‘I know it well. Great part of the world. Enjoy your holiday.’

‘I will. Thank you for ringing, Mr Spencer.’

Kate dressed, went downstairs to make breakfast, and afterwards tidied up the cottage. She packed her bags, then went next door to tell Mr Reith, her elderly neighbour, that she would be away for the week, checked that he still had her spare key, then accepted his offer of a cup of coffee and stayed chatting to him for half an hour.

Later, when she was setting time switches to turn her lights on after dark, Kate answered a rap on her front door to find a smiling Jack Spencer, in faded jeans and battered leather flying jacket, holding out an enormous sheaf of early spring flowers.

‘Good morning, Miss Dysart. These are by way of thanks.’

‘How—how very kind,’ said Kate, taken aback. ‘Please come in.’

‘I’m not holding you up?’

‘Not at all. Do sit down. Coffee?’

Jack Spencer shook his head regretfully and perched on the cushioned window seat. ‘No, thanks. I’m taking Abby and my parents out to lunch shortly, while Tim gets some sleep. Then we’re off to the hospital to meet the heir apparent.’

Kate chuckled. ‘I bet Abby can hardly wait.’

‘My mother likewise,’ he assured her, keen blue eyes trained on her face. ‘You look different this morning, Miss Dysart.’

‘More like a teacher now my hair’s tidy, you mean?’

‘I suppose I do. Pity to hide those curls away like that—’ He flung up a hand. ‘Too personal. Sorry.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘I’m way past the age of letting my hair hang down my back.’

‘If you say so.’ He grinned. ‘Last night you looked like a schoolgirl.’

‘It’s a long time since I was, but thanks just the same, Mr Spencer.’

‘Call me Jack.’

Kate shook her head. ‘Not appropriate.’

‘Because you’re Abby’s teacher?’

She nodded. ‘The Head prides himself on knowing parents by their first names, but, along with the rest of the staff, I stick to Mr and Mrs.’

‘But I’m not a parent,’ he pointed out. ‘Uncles don’t count.’

Aware that she was still clutching the vast bouquet, bridal fashion, Kate set it down on a table. ‘Please thank Mr and Mrs Cartwright for these, Mr Spencer.’

‘Actually, the flowers are from me—Miss Dysart.’ His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled.

‘Then thank you,’ she said, surprised. ‘How kind of you to go out of your way to bring them.’

‘I came because I wanted to see you again,’ he said simply, and stood up. ‘I must be off.’

A rather bemused Kate went to the door to open it. ‘Goodbye, Mr Spencer.’

‘One day I’ll get you to call me Jack,’ he promised, and strode down the path to his mud-splattered Cherokee, which now had company. A dark blue Maserati was parked behind it.

Kate stared as she saw Alasdair exchange a brief, unsmiling nod with Jack Spencer, who gave her a wink and a conspiratorial grin before he drove off.

Kate stood in her doorway with arms folded, her face expressionless as she watched Alasdair Drummond open her small wicket gate and stroll up the path towards her. His shoulders were less massive than Jack Spencer’s, but he was half a head taller, and, though he wore jeans as vintage as her previous visitor’s, it was their only point in common. Alasdair wore polished loafers with a transatlantic air to them, his casual polo shirt was white, and his sweater a shade of almost-pink a less masculine man would have found hard to carry off. The general effect, she thought with amusement, was the acme of elegance compared with her previous visitor.

But this time, without yesterday’s shock clouding her vision, Kate was able to look at Alasdair more objectively. His brown hair, once worn close-cropped, was now long enough to curl a little, and his face was leaner than Kate remembered. But the steel-grey eyes were as searching as ever.

‘Hello again, Kate,’ he said, his smile wary.

‘I didn’t expect to see you today, Alasdair.’ She backed out of reach as he leaned down towards her. ‘Don’t tell me—you were just passing?’

He straightened, his eyes irritatingly indulgent. ‘No. I drove here specifically to see you. I thought we could have lunch somewhere before you take off for Stavely.’

‘Sorry. I’ve had lunch—’

‘With the guy I saw leaving just now?’

Leaving him to draw his own conclusion, Kate motioned him inside the cottage, cautioning him to stoop as he went in. ‘Since you’ve driven so far I’ll make some coffee.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘I needn’t leave for half an hour or so.’

‘Thank you for sparing the time,’ said Alasdair wryly, staring at the huge mass of blooms. ‘Impressive little tribute. If I’d come bearing flowers would my welcome have been warmer?’

‘Have I been rude?’ said Kate, unmoved. ‘Sorry, Alasdair.’

‘I’m very conscious,’ he said, the flavour of Edinburgh very distinct in his voice, ‘that I’ve intruded.’

‘Of course you haven’t,’ said Kate lightly. ‘I’ll just make that coffee.’

‘Can I help?’

‘No. Just sit down. You make my house look small.’

‘It is small. Doll-size, like its owner.’ He looked her up and down. ‘You haven’t grown since I saw you last, Kate.’

‘Not in inches. But in maturity just a little, I hope.’ Pleased with her exit line, she left him alone.

Alasdair shook his head when she came back with sugar and milk on the coffee tray. ‘I drink mine black, remember? You should do; you made it often enough for me at one time.’

‘I’d forgotten,’ said Kate, rather pleased to find this was the truth. At one time she’d tried so hard to forget everything about Alasdair Drummond, and in minor ways, at least, it seemed she’d succeeded.

Like her other visitor, Alasdair took the window seat, his endless legs stretched out in front of him as he looked round at the small room, which was given an illusion of space by an inglenook fireplace and Kate’s knack of keeping the curtains drawn back on the walls to expose the entire window.

‘Do you light that every day?’ he asked, indicating the log fire laid ready.

‘No. Only on winter weekends, when I have time to clear it up in the mornings afterwards.’ Kate perched on the edge of a chair she normally never used, hoping its bronze velvet looked good with her yellow sweater.

Alasdair drank some of his coffee, regarding her steadily over the rim of his mug. ‘The man I saw leaving just now—is he important, Kate?’

‘Yes,’ she said without hesitation. It wasn’t a total lie. Jack Spencer was important—to his niece, his mother, his sister, and probably to several more women besides. Maybe a wife, for all she knew. It wouldn’t hurt Alasdair to think he was important to Kate Dysart, too. ‘How about you, Alasdair? You must have someone important in your life?’

He shook his head. ‘Not any more. I shared an apartment with a lady until recently, but that’s over now.’

‘Why?’

‘I suppose you could say she dumped me. Amy liked her New York lifestyle too much to try life in the UK with me.’

Which was enlightening.

‘Too bad,’ said Kate coolly. ‘Where will you be based?’

‘Near enough to commute. For the time being, at least.’

‘Where from?’

‘Gloucester. My grandmother left the house to me.’ He finished his coffee and stood up. ‘I’ve held you up long enough.’

Kate went with him to the door. ‘Sorry about lunch.’

‘Maybe I’ll be luckier tomorrow.’ He gave her a wry, assessing look. ‘In fact, Miss Dysart, I’m likely to get a far warmer welcome from your family than I have from you.’ When she showed no sign of penitence Alasdair’s jaw tightened. ‘The man I saw leaving just now—is he coming on Sunday?’

‘No. My family don’t know about him yet.’ Which was true enough. ‘Thanks for coming, Alasdair. See you in church.’

He took her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes. ‘Cool reception or not, it’s good to see you, Kate.’

She returned the look head-on, doggedly ignoring her body’s reaction to his touch. ‘It’s good to see you, too, Alasdair.’

‘I’d prefer a touch more enthusiasm!’ He stooped to kiss her cheek, paused for an instant, then kissed her again, his mouth hard and hot on hers. ‘See you tomorrow, Kate.’

She shut the door after he’d gone and sat down with a thump, needing time to get herself together. How she’d longed for him to kiss her at one time. And in some ways it had been worth waiting for. Alasdair was as good at kissing as he was at everything else. Kate gave a sudden gurgle of laughter. Normally her only Saturday morning encounters were with the postman and old Mr Reith next door. This morning had been in a different league altogether. Jack, as he wanted her to call him, was something new in her experience of men. Not a rough diamond, by any means, but compared with expensively educated Alasdair he was no smooth sophisticate either. Nevertheless, Jack Spencer’s in-your-face directness was refreshing. He’d made it flatteringly plain he found her appealing.

Kate felt a surge of triumph as she took her bags out to the car. From the way Alasdair had kissed her just now, it seemed that these days he found her appealing too. For all the good it would do him.

The windows of Friars Wood, the home of four generations of Dysarts, gleamed in welcome in the pale February sunlight when Kate parked under the chestnut tree at the end of the terrace. The garden was in transition time, waking up from winter to spring, with cushions of snowdrops, clumps of daffodils about to burst into bloom, mauve heather flanked by creamy yellow primroses and purple crocus, and Kate went slowly up the steps, viewing it all with her usual sense of home-coming. Then her eyes lit up as the door to Friars Wood flew open and revealed her tall brother, grinning broadly as he held up the small bundle in his arms.

‘You’re late, Auntie. Wake up, Son,’ Adam instructed his baby. ‘Time to meet your godmother.’ He swept Kate into a hug with his free arm, and gave her a kiss. ‘Hi, half-pint. Want to hold him?’

‘Of course I want to hold him!’ She dumped down her holdall and held out her arms for her tiny godson. ‘Hello, little nephew,’ she said softly, smiling down into unfocused blue eyes. ‘Oh, thank goodness; you take after your mother.’

‘He does not,’ said Adam indignantly. ‘He looks like me.’

Kate eyed his black curly hair and dark eyes in amusement. ‘Apart from blue eyes and a wisp of hair as fair as Gabriel’s, he’s the spitting image,’ she mocked, then turned with a smile as her mother came hurrying along the hall from the kitchen.

‘Darling,’ said Frances, arms outstretched. ‘I didn’t hear the bell.’

‘It didn’t ring; I was watching from the window,’ said Adam, relieving Kate of his son.

Kate hugged her mother, then grinned as Gabriel Dysart dashed in through the front door. ‘Hi, how are you Mumsy?’

‘Very pleased with myself,’ said Adam’s wife, hugging her in turn, and waved a hand at her son. ‘Just look at him, Kate. Wasn’t I clever?’

‘You couldn’t have done it without me,’ Adam reminded her.

‘True,’ said Gabriel, laughing, ‘But I did the lion’s share.’

Kate went into the kitchen with the others, to be given tea and cake and all the latest news of the family. Shortly afterwards her father came in from walking the dog, and Adam fended off the excited retriever while Tom Dysart held his daughter close and demanded all the latest news from Foychurch. Kate sat patting Pan’s golden head while she regaled the family with the events of the night before, then sent Adam out to her car to fetch the flowers and explained that her pupil’s uncle had given them to her by way of thanks.

‘Goodness, how extravagant,’ said Frances Dysart when she saw them. ‘Enough to make two arrangements for tomorrow, Kate. I’ve done the church, but I hadn’t got round to the house yet. You don’t mind if we use them, darling?’

‘Of course not. That’s why I brought them home.’

‘I hear you refused Alasdair’s invitation to dinner, by the way,’ accused Adam.

Kate wrinkled her nose at him. ‘I had other commitments.’

Her brother eyed her warily. ‘You know I’ve invited him to the christening on Sunday?’

‘Yes. Though I can’t imagine why.’

Adam shrugged. ‘When he put some of his grandmother’s furniture into auction at Dysart’s he stood me lunch at the Chesterton. I asked him if he’d like to come, and he accepted like a shot. I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘He means well,’ said Gabriel indulgently, smiling over her son’s head.

Kate nodded, resigned. ‘I know. And that’s quite enough about Alasdair Drummond. Give me the important news. Who else is coming?’

‘Leo and Jonah, of course,’ said Frances, ‘but without the children for once. Jonah’s parents are taking them to Paris to Disneyland this weekend.’

‘Greater love hath no grandparents,’ said Tom piously.

‘How about Jess?’

‘Not this time,’ said Frances, filling teacups. She smiled at Kate. ‘She confirmed last night that she’s pregnant again.’

‘And Lorenzo’s keeping her wrapped in cotton wool!’ Kate grinned, looked at the downy head cradled close to Gabriel’s breast, intercepted the tender look Adam gave his wife and felt a fleeting pang of envy. But dismissed it. The increasing number of her siblings’ progeny was quite high enough without adding to it herself.

‘How about Fenny?’ she asked. ‘Is she going to make it?’

‘Someone’s driving her down this evening, apparently,’ said Tom, shaking his head. ‘She won’t take her car to college.’

‘Because there’s always some clown on hand ready to ferry her wherever she wants to go,’ said Adam, grinning.

‘More than one,’ said Gabriel. ‘And she doesn’t care a fig for any of them. Just good friends, she says.’

‘At her age,’ Frances said thankfully, “‘just good friends” sounds very comforting to me.’

Soon afterwards Adam and Gabriel took their son off to the Stables for his bath and supper, promising to return with him later for dinner.

‘Though whether Fenny will be home in time to share it is uncertain,’ said Frances, chuckling. ‘But she’ll ring at some stage. Fen tries not to worry me too much.’

‘Your ewe lamb,’ teased Tom.

‘Come over with us, Kate,’ said Adam. ‘I’ll show you the jug I found for you.’

She looked at her mother. ‘Unless there’s anything I can do to help?’

‘No, darling. It’s a very simple meal tonight.’

Adam took charge of the buggy as the three of them walked briskly to hurry the baby into the warmth of the stable block which had been Adam’s private quarters since his eighteenth birthday.

‘I’ll look on while you do the hard part,’ Kate told Gabriel. ‘Or is Daddy going to do bathtime?’

‘We share the process unless I’m late home,’ said Adam as they went upstairs. ‘Actually, I wanted a word on the quiet, Kate,’ he added, cuddling his son while Gabriel filled the baby bath. ‘I take it you weren’t too pleased to see Alasdair?’

‘Not at first.’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘Nor with you, either. You might have warned me! After all this time it was a bit of a shock to find him waiting for me outside school, of all places.’

‘He wanted to surprise you.’

‘I’ve never met this Alasdair, of course,’ said Gabriel, undressing her squirming baby, ‘but I gather he’s done well for himself.’

‘Unlike me, he’s done what everyone expected of him. And now he’s here to run the UK operation of the pharmaceutical giant who head-hunted him from Cambridge,’ said Kate. ‘Gosh, the baby does wriggle, doesn’t he?’

‘Terrified me the first time,’ agreed Adam, and hooked his hands under his kicking son’s armpits while Gabriel did the sponging—a process Hal objected to at the top of his voice.

‘Pass him over quickly,’ begged Gabriel, and hastily wrapped her son in a warm towel to cuddle him. ‘Dash down and get his bottle, darling, please.’

‘You’re not feeding him yourself, then?’ said Kate, mopping up splashes.

‘No. Not that I’m sorry. This way we can share the night-time feeds. At least that’s the theory,’ added Gabriel, chuckling. ‘But I wake up anyway.’

‘I bet Adam doesn’t when it’s your turn!’ Kate watched while her nephew was fastened into a stretchy sleepsuit. ‘Do you enjoy motherhood, Gabriel?’

Her sister-in-law turned with a smile, cradling her restless son against her shoulder. ‘Just between you and me, Kate, I hadn’t thought to go in for it quite yet, but now he’s here I wouldn’t give him back.’

‘Neither would I,’ said Adam, as he joined them. ‘We never get enough sleep any more, but this, we’re assured, will improve with time.’ He kissed his wife as he handed over the bottle of formula. ‘We’ll leave you to it, sweetheart.’

When Adam unwrapped the silver-mounted crystal jug he’d found on his travels Kate stroked it with pleasure.

‘Perfect. But how much would you have got at auction for a beauty like this?’

‘Irrelevant. You can have it for the money I gave for it,’ he assured her. ‘But look, if you can’t afford it—’

‘I most definitely can. I’ve been saving up ever since Gabriel told me she was pregnant.’ Kate smiled. ‘I rather took it for granted you’d ask me to be godmother.’

‘You knew I would,’ he said gruffly, and gave her a searching look. ‘Now we’re on our own, is everything all right with you, Kate?’

‘Always the same old question,’ she said, resigned. ‘And it’s always the same old answer, Adam. Contrary to some people’s belief, I like my life and I love my job.’

“‘Some people” meaning Alasdair?’

‘Who else? Due to my famed qualifications he thinks I’m mad to teach at a village school.’ Kate shot him a look. ‘Do you still agree with him?’

‘Of course not. Like everyone else, I was a bit surprised at first, but it’s very obviously what you want to do, so I’m happy for you.’

‘You don’t mind that I’m never likely to win the Nobel prize, then?’

‘No way.’ Adam smiled crookedly. ‘In fact, I’d rather you met some guy who’ll make you as happy as I am with Gabriel.’

‘Don’t hold your breath,’ Kate warned him, laughing. ‘If I do feel the need for a male presence in my life one day I’ll get a dog like Pan.’

Adam chuckled. ‘Tell me when and I’ll buy you one.’ He eyed her curiously. ‘Now he’s back in this country, will you be seeing Alasdair more often?’

Kate shook her head. ‘I doubt it. I live in deepest Herefordshire, and Alasdair intends living in the Gloucester house his grandmother left him. It’s not exactly next door.’

‘Near enough for him to come calling round twice in two days,’ he reminded her.

Kate’s mouth compressed. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t make a habit of it.’

‘Is there someone else, then?’

She shrugged impatiently. ‘You know perfectly well I see Toby Anderson and Phil Dent when I’m home.’

Adam rolled his eyes. ‘The accountant and the sports master. Wild passionate affairs both, of course.’

‘How do you know what they’re like?’ said Kate indignantly.

‘Because you go out with both of them. I can’t see you leaping in and out of bed with two blokes, turn and turn about!’

Kate gave him a shove, laughing. ‘Not everyone wants wild, passionate affairs.’

‘How about marriage, then?’

‘One day, maybe,’ she said lightly. ‘At the moment I’m happy with my role of maiden aunt to the Dysart young.’

CHAPTER THREE

NEXT morning, Fenny knocked on Kate’s door and came in with two mugs of tea, then perched, yawning, on the end of the bed.

‘This is very good of you,’ said Kate, surprised. ‘Thanks, Fen.’

‘My pleasure. So how are things, schoolteacher?’ Fenny’s green eyes sparkled below a tangled mass of hair as dark as Kate’s. ‘Life in the sticks as scintillating as usual?’

‘A laugh a minute,’ agreed Kate, and sat up to drink her tea. ‘Who drove you home last night?’

‘Prue’s boyfriend. She came home for the weekend, too.’

‘But she lives in Marlborough.’

‘After he dropped her off he insisted on driving me all the way here, so who was I to refuse?’

‘You should have invited him in to supper.’

‘No way.’ Fenny grinned. ‘Time for that when it’s my boyfriend, not someone else’s.’