weaker than him too easily—not always a good thing.’
The Seatons excused themselves to chat to their other guests and as though sensing Selina’s surprise, Dulcie Gresham said humorously, ‘Did you expect me to be a totally doting mother? Well, in many ways I am, but my love for him doesn’t blind me entirely to Piers’ faults. I don’t know if you’re aware of it or not, but my brother suffered a most appalling scandal when he was younger. Piers was eight at the time and adored my brother.’ A frown touched Dulcie Gresham’s expertly made up face. ‘It didn’t help that Piers had been involved in the scandal—whether by accident or design I do not know—in that the woman concerned had visited him at school with my brother. I was away in the States at the time. Although Piers never really talked much about it, I suspect he suffered a feeling of betrayal. My brother was his God in many ways…and I think he felt that he’d been used. However, that’s all water under the bridge now, but I have the sneaky feeling that Piers transferred all the bad feelings he felt from my brother to his woman friend. Certainly he treats the majority of our sex with a cynicism I find hard not to criticise at times. No doubt he’ll be one of those men who marry late in life; probably a sweet young thing who he’ll always hold at a slight distance. That thought saddens me very much. I had such happiness with his father. Piers tends to dismiss my views as romantic, I know, but he is after all my son, and very much a Harvey. I just hope he doesn’t discover too late that even cynics fall in love.
‘You don’t think I should be telling you all this do you?’ she asked, surprising Selina with her perception. ‘Perhaps not. Certainly Piers would be furious, but Henry was right you know. He won’t take your rejection kindly— Oh I’m not suggesting he’ll take it out on you professionally. He might have faults, but I don’t believe small-mindedness is one of them, but he’s a man who isn’t used to female rejection, Selina, and if you’ll take my advice you’ll tread warily with him. I should hate to see you hurt.’
‘But you hardly know me.’ For once Selina could not disguise her feelings.
The blue eyes so like her son’s softened. ‘Perhaps not, but I feel as though I know you.’
In order to avoid Harry, Selina decided to leave early. She found her hosts deep in conversation with another couple and politely interrupted to say her goodbyes.
‘Selina, you must come round one night next week, and tell us all about your new job,’ the Judge insisted. Promising to do so, she looked round for Dulcie Gresham, but there was no sign of the older woman. Quenching a small stab of disappointment that she had left without seeking her out, Selina went upstairs to claim her coat. She too had felt at ease with her in a way she had never expected; but then of course, she wasn’t simply Piers Gresham’s mother; she was also her aunt. It was like unlocking the door to a hidden pain; the old childish resentment of her father’s legitimate children came gushing back; they had not been rejected by their father; they had not had to endure the taunts of their peers; the knowledge that their mother lived with a succession of men.
Stop it, stop it, she cautioned herself. Encouraging those sort of feelings would cause her nothing but anguish; she had taught herself that long long ago. At university she had realised that she had to disassociate herself from her burden of guilt if she was to live in peace. The guilt was not hers, and surely if she told herself that firmly and often enough, she would come to believe it.
She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t see the other two people in the hallway until she reached it. The colour receded quickly from her face as she saw Piers Gresham standing beside his mother chatting with the Seatons.
‘Selina, my dear, there you are.’ Dulcie Gresham greeted her warmly. ‘I was just asking Susan where you were. I would have hated to leave without saying goodbye. Piers, why on earth didn’t you tell me what a charming girl Selina is?’
His mother was laying it on a trifle thickly Selina thought, but she was still unable to repress the small gleam of amusement that lit her eyes, a totally natural smile curving her mouth.
‘Perhaps because I suspected it was something you’d soon discover for yourself,’ Piers drawled, helping his mother on with her coat. His voice was mild, but there was nothing mild about the look he gave Selina. It dulled the light in her eyes instantly, her mouth freezing in its half-smile as she caught the full force of his icy stare. That she should be amused by his mother’s comment plainly infuriated him and he was making no bones about letting her know it.
Turning away Selina felt her heart plummet as Harry strolled into the hall. On seeing her there he exclaimed triumphantly. ‘Just going… You must let me give you a lift. Now…no protests, I know you don’t have a car.’
Before she could speak, Selina heard Dulcie Gresham saying calmly, ‘No need for that, Harry, we’re dropping Selina off. Come along, dear,’ she added, touching her arm. ‘Best not to keep Piers waiting, he does hate it so, but then I suppose you’ve noticed that already.’
Too bemused to protest, Selina let herself be shepherded towards the door, unhappily aware of the speculation and chagrin in Harry’s eyes as he glanced from Piers to herself. No doubt he was assuming that Piers was the ‘date’ she had fibbed to him about. Well, it was scarcely important, she told herself, taking a deep breath as the front door closed behind them.
‘It was very kind of you to rescue me like that,’ she began, refusing to look at Piers, but all too aware of his dark, magnetic presence behind her, ‘but really I can make my own way home.’
‘Nonsense.’ Dulcie’s tone was brisk. ‘Of course we will give you a lift.’
‘Perhaps Miss Thorn is trying delicately to inform us that she would have preferred to accept Harry’s invitation,’ Piers put in smoothly. ‘After all, Mother dear, you didn’t actually give her any chance to respond.’
‘Selina loathes the man,’ his mother told him succinctly. ‘And don’t be so pedantic, Piers. I’m not a member of one of your juries you know. You didn’t want to go with Harry, did you, Selina?’
She was caught in a trap. If she told the truth she would be obliged to accept the lift that Dulcie had offered, and yet she could hardly be more unaware of Piers’ disinclination to give her a lift.
In the end she opted for the middle road. ‘I didn’t particularly want to go with Harry, no, but you really need not give me a lift. The tube is very convenient.’
‘There you are, Mother.’ Piers’ voice was oddly harsh. ‘Miss Thorn has as little liking for our company as she does the obnoxious Harry’s. And since she’s old enough to make her own decisions I suggest we allow her to do so.’
‘Piers, really!’
Selina could tell both from his mother’s expression and voice that she genuinely was embarrassed. Wanting to put her at her ease she said quickly, ‘No, really, Mr Gresham is quite right…I…’ She turned away and rushed down the drive, not wanting either of them to see the sudden sheen of tears she knew was in her eyes. Why did she never learn, she demanded fiercely of herself as she made her way home; why had she laid herself so open to his contempt and humiliation. She had known from the first what manner of man he was. Perhaps if she had not refused to dance with him in quite such strong terms they might…but no…he had openly admitted that he was suspicious of her, Selina reminded herself.
What had she let herself in for in giving in to the compulsion to know more of her father? It was too late to turn back and yet every instinct she possessed warned her to keep away from Piers Gresham; to avoid him at all costs. Unwittingly, she touched her mouth, withdrawing her fingers as though they burned when she realised what she was doing. Just for a moment she had been reliving the pressure of his mouth on hers; fierce and angry, communicating to her a thousand emotions too complex to analyse but which had somehow pierced all her barriers and distrust of his sex to provoke from her a physical response which still had the power to disturb her.
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