foreign or otherwise.
‘I suppose that puts a whole new complexion on my commission,’ he went on, recovered now from Martha’s interruption of their negotiation.
Caroline steeled herself for the inevitable rejection, yet her chin came up in defence of all single parents, though her circumstances were not usual. Not for the world would she tell this arrogant stranger the true circumstances.
‘I suppose you want to retract your offer,’ she said bravely. She wasn’t going to fight for it; no way. It had sounded like a very nice commission and it had sounded as if she could name her price, but money wasn’t everything.
He looked at her quizzically as if he hadn’t understood why she had said what she had and then his face cleared as if he had realised what was troubling her.
‘Look, don’t get me wrong,’ he started, and then paused as Caroline’s shoulders squared. He sighed and raked his hand through his immaculate black hair, ruffling it into disarray, then immediately smoothing it back into place again. ‘I’m sorry,’ he went on. ‘The child took me by surprise. What I’m trying to say is that now I know you have a child I will fall in with your arrangements. You obviously have your hands full and it can’t be easy, but it hasn’t changed my offer. I still want you to do the work but in your own good time, though——’
And for God’s sake don’t patronise me, Caroline wanted to blurt, but didn’t. Instead she interrupted coolly and professionally, ‘Ten o’clock in the morning, then, Mr Frazer. We can discuss terms then. I’m sure you’ll find my work satisfactory.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ he agreed, his eyes fixed on hers so hard that she could do little else but glare back to match him. ‘Tomorrow at ten, then. You have my card. Phone if anything crops up——’
‘Nothing will,’ Caroline assured him firmly as she turned to the door to show him out.
At the gallery door, which Caroline had opened for him, he turned and looked at her. It was a while before he spoke, as if he was choosing his words carefully in his mind before speaking them.
‘She mentioned a nanny. You have staff and she will, of course, look after the child when you come tomorrow?’
‘She’, ‘the child’. Did he mean to insult with his choice of words to describe Martha?
‘She has a name—Martha,’ Caroline informed him tightly. ‘And Nanny isn’t the hired help. She’s my mother and the grandmother of my daughter and have no fear that I will impose Martha on you tomorrow. She’s an astute child and will know when she isn’t wanted.’
His eyes darkened. ‘I meant nothing of the sort,’ he told her crisply and Caroline realised she had been hypersensitive in taking it that way.
She let out a small apologetic sigh and lowered her head. ‘I’m sorry.’
To her astonishment he lifted her chin and gazed deep into her green eyes. His touch was far warmer than she would have expected from such a cold man. His dark eyes too were suddenly so unexpectedly soft that she parted her lips in silent surprise and her heart seemed to squeeze for some unearthly reason.
‘I understand your protective feelings for your daughter,’ he said quietly. ‘But please don’t be on the defensive for her all the time. You’re a very lucky lady to have such a beautiful daughter. Some are not so fortunate.’ The words came out leaden and Caroline wondered at what had powered them but had no chance to try and analyse them for the moment. He went on, ‘I was simply trying to establish the facts for tomorrow. My mother is a frail lady and not used to young children. If you wanted to bring the…bring Martha I would have to prepare her in advance. That was the only reason I asked about a nanny.’
Caroline tried to nod but his fingers on her chin wouldn’t allow that. She felt a sudden crushing feeling in her chest as that touch smoothed into a caress and then he took his fingers away and she wondered if she had imagined it all.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then,’ he finalised, and turned away from her and was gone.
Caroline flattened herself against the back of the door, having shut it after him, and took long breaths and closed her eyes. She should have explained to him from the off, told him that Martha wasn’t her daughter but the orphaned daughter of her dear sister who had died so tragically. But how could she tell anyone, least of all that damned arrogant Frazer stranger? Martha believed her to be her real mother because it was Caroline who was bringing her up. That dear, sweet child, conceived by her irresponsible sister, father unknown, and orphaned at the age of four months, would have a lot to contend with in later life and Caroline was going to do everything in her power to smooth the way for her. If she was defensive over Martha she had reason to be.
Later, when she lay on the bed with Martha, reading her favourite bedtime story of the prince from a foreign land searching the world for a princess who had troubled his dreams since childhood, she couldn’t help her thoughts drifting to the stranger who had made such an impact on her that afternoon. Ellis Frazer: she had read the card property after he had left. She didn’t know if she liked him or not but she suspected not. He had an attitude that wasn’t so surprising. It reminded her of David, the man she’d thought was the one for her till baby Martha had come into her life. He had actually insisted on her making a choice—him or Martha. Though her heart had nearly broken she had made that choice and never regretted it. Martha had given her more joy than a thousand Davids could ever have, but with that choice had come a realisation that there wasn’t ever likely to be anyone else for her. A single woman with a child…
Well, she didn’t have to like this Ellis Frazer to do the work for him and he didn’t have to approve of her to commission it, so it wasn’t a problem.
‘Night, Mummy,’ sleepy Martha breathed in her arms as Caroline closed the book, everyone living happily ever after. I love you lots.’
‘I love you too, darling,’ Caroline breathed, holding her tightly and brushing a warm kiss across the child’s soft brow.
Caroline extracted her arm from beneath the now sleeping child and gazed down at her adoringly and yet with her heart dragging painfully. Why now? she wondered as she pulled the duvet up around Martha’s chin. The weight of responsibility for the child sometimes dragged at her but it hadn’t for a long time so why now suddenly? Probably because Martha was growing up and Caroline knew she would have to do something about a legal adoption before Martha went to proper school. She supposed that would raise emotional problems which her and her mother might not find easy to cope with. They both missed Josie so much. And Martha? She called her aunty ‘Mummy’ and one day she would have to know the truth—that she had no real mother and there wasn’t a princely father from foreign lands coming to find her.
With a sigh Caroline closed the bedroom door on the child she adored and turned her thoughts to tomorrow. In a way she was looking forward to it, in a way she wasn’t.
‘WHERE’S that wretched card?’ Caroline huffed impatiently as she searched the sitting-room, lifting cushions to see if it had slipped down the side of the sofa. She was running late and that wouldn’t go down well with Ellis Frazer.
‘Nanny had a card last night,’ Martha told her absently from the doorway. ‘Nanny isn’t well this morning.’
Caroline let out a ragged moan and raked her hair from her forehead. This was all she needed. Her mother had been out at one of her community meetings the night before and Caroline hadn’t had a chance to tell her about her new commission and her appointment this morning. There was no nursery school this morning and her mother’s not feeling well meant she wouldn’t be able to look after Martha.
‘Ah, here it is.’ She slid the card from the sideboard and tucked it into her jeans pocket. ‘Martha, sweetheart, get your books and your paper and pens. We’re going