Her Christmas Fantasy. PENNY JORDAN

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СКАЧАТЬ course, it was only natural that Henry’s mother should be slightly distant with her. Naturally she was protective of Henry—he was her only son, her only child…

      He was also a man of thirty-one, a sharp inner voice reminded Lisa, and surely capable of making his own mind up about who he wanted to marry? Or was he?

      It hadn’t escaped Lisa’s notice during the day how Henry consistently and illuminatingly agreed with whatever opinion his mother chose to voice, but she dismissed the tiny niggling doubts that were beginning to undermine her confidence in her belief that she and Henry had a future together as natural uncertainties raised by seeing him in an unfamiliar setting and with people, moreover, who knew him far better than she did.

      In the hallway the grandfather clock chimed the hour. In a few minutes the Hanfords’ supper guests would be arriving.

      Henry had already explained to her that his family had lived in the area for several generations and that they had a large extended family, most of whom would be at the supper party, along with a handful of his parents’ friends.

      Lisa was slightly apprehensive, aware that she would be very much on show, which was one of the reasons why she had chosen to wear the cream trouser suit.

      Henry, however, hadn’t been any more approving of her outfit than his mother, telling her severely that he thought that a skirt would have been more appropriate than trousers.

      Lisa had no doubt that Oliver Davenport would have been both highly amused and contemptuous of her failure to achieve the desired effect with her acquired plumage.

      Oliver Davenport. Now what on earth was she doing thinking about such a disagreeable subject, such a contentious person, when by rights she ought to be concentrating on the evening ahead of her?

      ‘Ah, Lisa, there you are!’ she heard Henry exclaiming. ‘Everyone will be arriving soon, and Mother likes us all to be in the hall to welcome them when they do.

      ‘I see you didn’t change after all,’ he added, frowning at her.

      ‘An Armani suit is a perfectly acceptable outfit to wear for a supper party, Henry,’ Lisa pointed out mildly, and couldn’t help adding a touch more robustly, ‘And, to be honest, I think I would have felt rather cold in a skirt. Your parents—’

      ‘Mother doesn’t think an overheated house is healthy,’ Henry interrupted her quickly—so quickly that Lisa suspected that she wasn’t the first person to comment on the chilliness of his parents’ house.

      ‘I expect I’m feeling the cold because we’re so much further north here,’ she offered diplomatically as she followed him into the hallway.

      Cars could be heard pulling up outside, their doors opening and closing.

      ‘That’s good!’ Henry exclaimed. ‘Mother likes everyone to be on time.’

      Mother would, Lisa thought rebelliously, but wisely she kept the words to herself.

      Henry’s aunt and her family were the first to arrive. A smaller, quieter edition of her elder sister, she was, nevertheless, far warmer in her manner towards Lisa than Henry’s mother had been, and Lisa didn’t miss the looks exchanged by her three teenage children as they were subjected to Mary Hanford’s critical inspection.

      Fifteen minutes later the hallway was virtually full, and Lisa was beginning to lose track of just who everyone was. The doorbell rang again and Henry went to answer it. As Lisa turned to look at the newcomers her heart suddenly stood still and then gave a single shocked bound followed by a flurry of too fast, disbelieving, nervous beats.

      Oliver Davenport! What on earth was he doing here? He couldn’t have followed her here to pursue his demand for her to return Emma’s clothes, could he?

      At the thought of what Henry’s mother was likely to say if Oliver Davenport caused the same kind of scene here in public as he had staged in the privacy of her own flat, Lisa closed her eyes in helpless dismay, and then heard Henry saying tensely to her, ‘Lisa, I’d like to introduce you to one of my parents’ neighbours. Oliver—’

      ‘Lisa and I already know one another.’

      Lisa’s eyes widened in bemused incomprehension.

      Oliver Davenport was a neighbour of Henry’s parents! And what did he mean by implying that they knew one another…by saying her name in that grossly deceptive, softly sensual way, which seemed to imply that he…that she…?

      ‘You do? You never said anything about knowing Oliver to me, Lisa,’ Henry said almost hectoringly.

      But before Lisa could make any attempt to defend herself or explain, Oliver Davenport was doing it for her, addressing Henry in a tone that left Lisa in no doubt as to just what kind of opinion the other man had of her husband-to-be, as he announced cuttingly, ‘No doubt she had more important things on her mind. Or perhaps she simply didn’t think it was important…’

      ‘I…I…I didn’t realise you two knew one another,’ was the only response Lisa could come up with, and she saw from Henry’s face that it was not really one that satisfied him.

      She nibbled worriedly at her bottom lip, cast Oliver Davenport a bitter look and then was forced to listen helplessly whilst Oliver, who still quite obviously bore her a grudge over the clothes, commented judiciously, ‘I like the outfit… It suits you… But then I thought so the first time I saw you wearing it, didn’t I?’

      Lisa knew that she was blushing. Blushing…? She was turning a vivid and unconcealable shade of deep scarlet, she acknowledged miserably as she saw the suspicious look that Henry was giving her and recognised from the narrow, pursed-lip glare that Henry’s mother must have also overheard Oliver’s comment.

      ‘Oliver, let me get you a drink,’ Henry’s father offered, thankfully coming up to usher him away, but not before Oliver managed to murmur softly to Lisa,

      ‘Saved by the cavalry…’

      ‘How on earth do you come to know Oliver Davenport?’ Henry demanded angrily as soon as Oliver was out of earshot. ‘I don’t know him,’ Lisa admitted wearily. ‘At least not—’

      ‘What do you mean? Of course you know him…and well enough for him to be able to comment on your clothes…’

      ‘He’s… Henry…this isn’t the time for me to explain…’ Lisa told him quietly.

      ‘So there is something to explain, then.’ Henry was refusing to be appeased. ‘Where did you meet him? In London, I suppose. His business might be based up here at the Hall, but he still spends quite a considerable amount of time in London… His cousin works for him down there—’

      ‘His cousin…?’ Lisa couldn’t quite keep the note of nervous apprehension out of her voice.

      ‘Yes, Piers Davenport, Oliver’s cousin. He’s several years younger than Oliver and he lives in London with his girlfriend—some model or other…Emily…or Emma…I can’t remember which…’

      ‘Emma,’ Lisa supplied hollowly.

      So Oliver hadn’t been lying, after all, when he had told her that he was acting on behalf of his cousin. She glanced uneasily over СКАЧАТЬ