The Man She Can't Forget Read online

  Had Richard Devenish undertaken to get a decorator in before he’d fallen ill? Why on earth had he done that? It wasn’t as though he’d needed an extra room. Had he perhaps believed that his nephew would return and make the manor his home again?

  Bemused, Gabriel allowed his gaze to sweep his surroundings in a preliminary search. His glance falling on the neatly arranged books in the two maplewood bookcases that he remembered from his childhood, he leant down to retrieve a first edition copy of Brave New World by Aldous Huxley. It had been a Christmas present from his uncle when he was just nine. He had all but devoured the book. He’d loved it so much he had even written an essay about it at school.

  That year his teacher had commented in his report, ‘Gabriel is a precocious reader with a highly inventive imagination that I am sure will take him far!’

  His lips nudging a bittersweet smile, he replaced the book and turned round. Janet Mullan, the housekeeper, had left the large picture windows open to let in the sunshine. The scent of stocks and roses from the garden below also drifted in delicately, filling the air with the heady summer perfume that Gabriel had always loved even as a boy.

  Releasing a slow, contemplative breath, he walked to the windows to stare out at the stunning vista. He recalled thinking at that time that it wouldn’t be so bad living here if he could have a few of the boys from school to come and stay with him in the holidays. But his nanny—a middle-aged lady called Margaret—had shaken her head and reminded him that his uncle had forbidden it, in case any of the valuable antiques in the house got broken.

  To make up for his disappointment she’d given him a hug, ruffled his hair and said she’d take him to the local fair on the village green...perhaps he’d see some of his friends there? Well, Gabriel had gone to the fair, munched at a toffee apple and a sticky bun, palled up with a local boy and had a whale of a time, sliding down the helter-skelter and riding the carousel. That had been one of the best days of that summer, he recalled.

  But sadly, events like that had been too few and far between. His taciturn uncle had grown more and more distant, seemingly preferring to stay away rather than share the house with Gabriel when he was home, and concepts like heritage and family had quickly grown to mean less and less to his nephew. The next summer holiday that Gabriel had properly enjoyed had been after his first year at university, when he had met Sean.

  Inevitably, the thought of his best friend brought with it a new deluge of heartfelt memories—of Lara and the stricken look on her pretty face when he’d bade her goodbye less than warmly at the airport. It had been the hardest thing he’d ever done, and every night and day that had passed since had given him plenty of cause to regret it. It had been a cruel way to end their too-brief relationship—pretending that he didn’t care how she felt. It had been the act of his life.

  The truth was he cared too much. He just hadn’t been able to deal with the outpouring of love and affection that he’d received from Lara. It had been a totally unfamiliar experience to have someone love him and want to be with him—not because of what he could materially provide for them but because they wanted to be with the man behind the facade Gabriel had affected all these years. The real Gabriel Devenish.

  But why should he let Lara waste her love on him? Sooner or later she’d find out that he just wasn’t worth it. In years to come, when she was married to a really decent man, she’d thank him for it.

  Feeling an overwhelming sense of weariness and despair descend, he lowered himself onto the bed, put his hands behind his head, and lay down. His uncle’s solicitor was waiting for him downstairs in the drawing room—waiting for Gabriel to give him his decision about what he intended to do with the house. Remembering that he’d also promised his property developer friend that he would ring him to discuss some figures regarding the potential sale of the manor, Gabriel loosed a heavy sigh and shut his eyes.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  LARA COULDN’T FATHOM what on earth was wrong with her. Yes, she’d been through the mill, losing first Sean and then Gabriel. But were those heartrending events enough to make her feel queasy and persistently light-headed, which was how she’d been feeling for several days now? She should perhaps go the doctor, but she was sure she would eventually shrug it off so steered clear of pursuing that option. Instead she determinedly focused on work, even putting in some overtime in a bid to shake herself out of whatever was ailing her.

  Besides, she wasn’t the only one who had lost a loved one or had her heart broken. What she should aim to do was to be more stoical. She should just endeavour to take one day at a time and somehow, some way, garner some optimism about life again.

  Then one morning, as she got ready for work, Lara reached into her purse to dig out the foil packet of contraceptive pills. She immediately realised she’d picked up the previous month’s packet instead of the current one. About to jettison the empty container into a nearby wicker basket, she did a double take. At the beginning of the empty rows there was one tablet remaining. How had that happened? More to the point, why hadn’t she noticed it before?

  Her heart started to pound as she calculated back to the week of the remaining pill. Without a doubt it was the week that she’d spent in New York with Gabriel. Six weeks had passed since then. Six weeks with no sign of a period. Lara had put the absence down to the emotional rollercoaster she’d been on, telling herself that everything would sort itself out just as soon as her emotions calmed down.

  Hadn’t she started to take the pill in the first place to help regulate her periods because they tended to be erratic? She shouldn’t be alarmed that she’d missed one. Yet some instinct told her that she did perhaps need to be concerned.

  Dragging her hand feverishly through her tousled dark hair, and still in her pyjamas, she sat down on the bed and let the realisation that had shockingly dawned wash over her. Wasn’t it true that you had to be consistent when taking an oral contraceptive? If you missed one then you risked the inevitable. Suddenly, the reason for her queasiness, her feelings of being light-headed and her missed period became disturbingly clear. She was pregnant. Pregnant with Gabriel Devenish’s baby!

  It was the strangest thing, but suddenly Lara’s sense of confusion and worry about her health dissipated like ice crystals beneath the sun. She would need to take a test to be absolutely sure, of course.... Touching her palm to her cheek, she sensed her skin flush warmly. A sense of joyous excitement filled her. It went racing through her blood like life-giving oxygen.

  How or why she had omitted to take one of her pills no longer seemed to matter. She certainly hadn’t forgotten to take one deliberately. In any case, Gabriel hadn’t got in touch when he’d ‘got his head straight’, as he’d promised he would. He hadn’t even let her know when and if he’d returned to the UK to deal with the sale of his family’s manor house.

  As much as it grieved her, Lara could no longer make that her driving concern. In her mind and in her heart she had left the door open for him to come back to her—of course she had. But if he didn’t—and right now it didn’t look as if he would—well, she would have their son or daughter to take care of, and that would in time help to ease the hurt of his desertion.

  At least she hoped that it would. But whatever happened one thing was certain: she intended to be the most loving and adoring mother she could be. She might not be wealthy, but her child would be the recipient of far more important riches—her love and devotion. He or she might not have a father in their life, but that would have to be enough.

  * * *

  Gabriel had spent the morning with his architect, perusing and discussing the renovation plans for the manor which were already well under way. The genteel old orangery was being redesigned, along with the bedrooms, and he’d also had discussions with one of Britain’s top garden designers about what could be done to make the most of the gardens.

  The day the solicitor had
visited the house to find out what Gabriel intended to do about it, Gabriel had made the surprising decision to fulfil the terms of the codicil to the will and live there for the six months stipulated so that he could inherit. Shortly after that he had rung his office in New York and told them he was taking a year’s sabbatical in order to decide what he wanted to do about his future.

  His decision to take a year off had dumbfounded his employers, and they had immediately offered him a myriad of financial temptations and seductive inducements like a prestigious house in the Hamptons to get him to rethink. Gabriel had firmly declined.

  The most surprising thing of all was that when he had come off the phone he’d felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Until that cathartic moment he hadn’t fully realised how much his work and his drive for more success, more money and more power had dominated his life. It certainly hadn’t left much time or space for anything else. In particular, for the loving and committed relationship he secretly craved but had always feared he would never be able to sustain even if he found it.

  During the past few weeks since he had returned to the house and reread his uncle’s letter—particularly the part where he had told him of his hopes that he would return to live at the manor and raise his children there—Gabriel had been filled with new hope and optimism about his future. A future quite unlike the usual picture he had envisaged for himself.

  What had helped tremendously was the fact that he had actually started to fall in love with the house. Bit by bit the sorrow of his childhood and his damaged past had loosened its grip and he had started to heal.

  One afternoon, whilst exploring one of the larger bedrooms which the housekeeper was convinced must have been his mother’s, he discovered a framed photograph tucked away in a bureau. It was a picture of his mother, Angela, holding him as a baby, and it bore out the housekeeper’s theory that the room must have been hers. There was no doubt that Angela had been a beautiful woman, with glossy dark hair and vivid blue eyes, but it wasn’t just her beauty that drew the viewer in. Her smiling face exuded warmth and love in equal measures as she held her son firmly against her heart.

  How she must have hated being ill and unable to look after him, Gabriel thought.

  The idea jolted him.

  Up until now, Angela Devenish had been an almost ghost-like figure in his mind—hardly real. As if she’d never existed at all. Now her life and the woman she had been started to fascinate him. He studied the photograph for a long time. He even took it with him into his bedroom and stood it on the dressing table so that he would see it every morning when he woke up.

  But even though he had begun to make genuine inroads into seeing his mother in a different light and healing the wounds from his past, there was one face that he longed to see again more than any other. And that face was Lara’s.

  The only thing that had held Gabriel back from going to see her when he’d returned to the UK was the sickening memory of how he had behaved towards her when they’d parted in New York. He also couldn’t forget the story of how he’d rebuffed her when she’d been just sixteen at Sean’s party. She hadn’t had to elucidate how hurt she must have been. It had been written all over her face.

  He honestly wouldn’t blame her if when she saw him again she told him to go to hell. But he hoped to God she wouldn’t. Until he had made the decision to live in his family’s manor so that he could inherit—not so that he might sell the property but so that he could make it his home—he hadn’t known how he could legitimately approach her. All he had known was that he wanted to show Lara that he could be a better man, a truly good man—a man she could depend on.

  And to do that he would have to show her evidence that he intended to stay in the country and make his life there.

  If Lara agreed—and it was a big if—she would be an absolutely vital and crucial element in helping Gabriel create the new life he wanted. A much happier and more fulfilling life than he had ever experienced before.

  Three months later...

  Lara pressed her palm to the base of her spine and rubbed it. Having been on her feet since the early hours of the morning, she was so tired she could drop. Why did her tiredness and stress always seem to go straight to her back these days? she wondered.

  With a jolt, she remembered that she was pregnant. The realisation still came as a shock every time she thought about it, but it had all been confirmed by her doctor so there was no more doubting. It still seemed like the most unbelievable dream.

  With a wistful sigh, Lara started to go through her usual routine of shutting up shop for the day. All she could think about now was the prospect of a long and leisurely soak in the tub with some scented bubbles. That should help ease the ache in her back.

  ‘Any plans for the evening, Lara?’ her young colleague Marisa asked as she shut down her computer beside her.

  ‘Only to have the longest, most relaxing soak in history, in a bath full of deliciously warm and sudsy water.’

  ‘Sounds heavenly.’ Marisa smiled.

  ‘What about you? Have you any plans?’

  ‘I’m going out for a pizza with Mark, my boyfriend.’

  ‘You’re still seeing him? I thought you two had had a big row and you had decided not to see him any more.’

  Marisa’s plump cheeks suffused with heat. ‘Every now and again we fall out. But we quickly patch things up.’ She smiled. ‘He’s a nice boy. I’d miss him if we weren’t together. Sometimes he feels like a missing part of me I didn’t know I’d lost. Do you know what I mean?’

  Lara did know what she meant, and helplessly she felt the other girl’s comment catching her off guard. Her eyes filled with tears. The thought of Gabriel and the memory of his passionate caresses and kisses was never far away. Those memories were even more poignant now that she knew she was carrying his baby. Did he ever think about her and wonder how she was doing? Did he ever miss her?

  It had been neither simple nor easy to slip back into the predictable routine of the life she’d had before he’d walked in and ignited all her hopes and dreams with a fierce burning light that would never go out. So far it had been the biggest challenge of her life. Lara wondered how Gabriel would react if he knew that. It all but killed her to think he might just brush it off and put it down to experience.

  ‘Lara?’ Stepping towards her, Marisa looked alarmed to see that she was weeping. ‘What’s wrong, love? Do you feel sick? Do you want me to get you a glass of water?’

  She suddenly sounded much older than her years, and the younger woman’s concern made Lara want to weep even more.

  Touching her fingertips to the moisture that had tracked down her face and dampened her cheeks, she shook her head and forced a smile. ‘No, I’ll be fine, thanks. I think I just need to get out of here and go home and have that bath.’

  ‘That’s bound to help. A long hot bath is a bit of a cure-all for me, too. It’s the same as having a cup of tea, isn’t it? It somehow makes you feel better.’

  Marisa’s sage remark had the effect of making Lara want to hug her—so she did. The other girl flushed with pleasure.

  ‘You’re wise beyond your years—you know that?’ Lara told her. Then, moving away, she glanced over at all the empty chairs and tables that would be full of diligent and not so diligent students again tomorrow. One thing was for certain: life went on, despite what was happening in your personal life.

  Reaching for the red wool cardigan she’d hung over the back of her chair, she hurriedly pulled it on. Lifting up the heavy swathe of hair that had fallen down her back she let it fall again and shook it free. Absently glancing towards the twin glass doors of the exit, she frowned. A man dressed in a classic raincoat thrown over a dark sweatshirt and jeans was pushing them open.

  Stepping inside, he took a brief inventory of his surroundings before tunnelling his fingers through his hair and mo
ving towards them. Even if she hadn’t seen his face Lara would have known that smooth athletic gait anywhere. Staring in disbelief, she found it hard to think, never mind speak. In fact, she suddenly felt quite faint.

  ‘Who could that be?’ Marisa whispered next to her. ‘Doesn’t he know that we’re closed?’

  ‘His name is Gabriel Devenish.’

  Still in shock, Lara knew her voice wasn’t much above a whisper. But it was almost as if she’d had to say his name out loud in order to believe that he was there and not just a figment of her imagination, or some seductive ghostly visitation from one of her nightly dreams of him.

  When he stepped up to the counter and turned the vivid azure beam of his too-arresting gaze on her, a well of hurt and long-suppressed fury at his cavalier treatment rose up inside her and made her stiffen her shoulders defensively.

  Lifting her chin, she looked him straight in the eye and announced, ‘We’re closed. If you need any help I’m afraid you’ll have to come back tomorrow.’

  The beautiful carved lips in front of her edged into an amused smile—a smile that unscrupulously stormed Lara’s heart and turned her insides to mush.

  ‘I’m afraid what I need can’t wait until tomorrow,’ he remarked, and the smoky voice and piercing eyes mercilessly imprisoned her, locked her up and threw away the key.

  For a long moment she fell into a kind of trance. Then the sound of Marisa pointedly clearing her throat behind her and touching her hand to Lara’s sleeve had her turning round to see what was wrong.

  There was nothing amiss. The younger girl’s eyes were alive with curiosity and what might have even been delight as she commented, ‘I’m sorry, Lara, but I have to dash. Mark is meeting me in the car park. Take care of yourself, won’t you? I’ll see you tomorrow.’