The Saxon Brides: Mistaken Mistress. Tessa Radley

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СКАЧАТЬ never thought of children.” Or a niece. Or a nephew. Or a sister-in-law like Amy. “I hadn’t thought beyond finding Roland. He was the family I’ve been looking for since I learned I was adopted.”

      The stark statement hung in the air.

      Kay’s eyes darkened until the gray had turned almost black. “Oh, Alyssa….” She hesitated then she opened her arms.

      Alyssa walked into them, conscious of the scent of lavender that clung to the older woman. At last she stepped away.

      “I feel so … lost.”

      “What about your parents? Wouldn’t it help to stay awhile with them right now?”

      “My mother—adoptive mother—died of cancer three years ago. That was when I really stepped up my search for Roland. She’d never been keen on my finding my natural parents—or Roland when she learned I had a brother.”

      Kay gave her a peculiar look. “Maybe she feared she might lose you.”

      “How could she ever lose me? She was my mother, she’d raised me. I loved her.”

      “What about your adoptive father?”

      “He remarried last year—his new wife wanted to live on Australia’s Gold Coast with her daughter and two granddaughters.”

      “So in a space of a few years you’ve lost your mother, your father has gone away … and now your birth brother is dead.” Kay looked quite ill.

      “Yes,” Alyssa whispered, the pain of it all closing her throat. “But you’re going to share a little of Roland with me … and that’s so much more of him than I’ve had before.”

      Once the Saxons had driven off to visit Amy that night, Alyssa felt strangely deserted. Using the remote to switch off the television, she was plunged into silence and within seconds the vast quietness of the homestead enfolded her. Other than one solitary creak of the beams, the lack of sound was absolute. Picking up the photo album that Kay had shown her earlier, Alyssa started to browse through.

      A sharp burst of nostalgia pierced her as she stared at the images. Roland as a baby with only a little ginger fluff on his head. As a toddler, holding a new-born Joshua. A photo of Roland on his first day of school, gap-toothed, his red hair slicked down, with Joshua and Heath in front of him, as different from them as fire from coal. Roland and Heath smiling like little devils while Joshua stared solemnly at the camera, his gaze already self-possessed and direct. No Megan yet. Just the three boys.

      The next page showed Roland on a bay horse, grinning as he held a great, big silver trophy aloft while Megan and Joshua stood on either side of the horse’s head, looking proud and pleased.

      When she’d finished paging through the album, Alyssa set it aside and made her way to the kitchen, which Kay had asked Ivy, the friendly housekeeper, to show her around earlier. There was a tray set out for her. In the fridge was the slice of quiche and bowl of salad just as Kay had promised. But Alyssa didn’t bother to nuke the quiche in the microwave. She set the empty wineglass to one side and made herself a cup of cocoa instead and, picking up the tray, made her way out.

      At the foot of the stairs Alyssa paused. Her room lay upstairs, along with Megan’s quarters, and Kay and Phillip’s suite. Downstairs was the wing that housed Roland’s rooms—and Joshua’s. A wave of shame swept her at the memory of what had so nearly happened in Joshua’s bedroom the night of the ball.

      Curiosity propelled her down the stairs. At the base of the stairs the area opened up into an airy sitting room furnished with a large plasma-screen television, two brown leather sofas and a pair of armchairs. She’d caught only a glimpse of it on the night of the ball when Joshua had hauled her through.

      An immense kauri bookshelf covered one wall that closer inspection revealed was filled with books on viticulture and a couple of rows of crime novels interspersed with classics. The opposite wall was filled by an abstract study of an incoming tide that looked like a John Walker. A narrow arch led to a sleek, streamlined galley kitchen gleaming with stainless steel appliances and beside it lay a cosy dining area.

      Leaving the sitting room, Alyssa glanced both ways down the passage that led off the sitting room. At one end, a door stood ajar, at the other, the door was firmly closed. With soft footsteps she made her way to the closed door at the far end. The handle twisted under her touch. As she stepped through the doorway, her throat closed.

      Without a doubt this was where her brother had slept.

      It hurt too much to stand beside the double bed that he would never waken in again. Through an archway she glimpsed a desk. A few steps took her to what had clearly been his private domain. His trophy room. Two glass-fronted cabinets held an impressive array of silverware. A closer look revealed schoolboy medals for athletics, awards for rugby, while trophies for eventing were prominently displayed, holding pride of place.

      She made her way back into Roland’s bedroom, and stopped at the sight of a door leading off into a bathroom en suite. An electric razor lay on the marble slab, charging, awaiting its next use. Alyssa picked up the wooden-backed hairbrush. There were short strands of red hair in its bristles. She disentangled a hair, then pulled one from her own head. Laying them side by side, she compared the texture and colour. Hers was darker, his was coarser. She swallowed the lump in her throat and shook the two hairs free.

      Closing the door behind her had a certain finality.

      At the other end of the corridor the open door beckoned. She couldn’t resist the call. Joshua’s rooms. She stepped past a study, papers neatly stacked on a desk, past the walk-in dressing room with the bathroom that lay beyond. The instant she stepped into his bedroom, she smelled his scent. Familiar. Taunting. The dinner jacket she’d returned hung draped over a chair, and she lifted it to her face, inhaling the rich, living male scent that had surrounded her outside the chilly hospital. She dropped down onto the navy bedcover and fought back tears. She sat there for what seemed like an age. Finally she rose and returned the jacket to the chair. Collecting her tray, with the now-cold cocoa, from the landing, she made her way upstairs to her own room.

      The silence of the empty house was suffocating.

      A hollow emptiness pressed down on Alyssa. Here, in the heart of the Saxon family’s home, she felt more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.

      Joshua had swept Amy—along with his parents and Megan—off to dinner. It was good for Amy to get out. His eyes rested on his parents—and good for them, too. Yet as they sat at the window table of an upmarket-café overlooking Napier’s Marine Parade, an unaccountable sense of guilt nagged at Joshua at the thought of Alyssa alone in the great house.

      “Why so pensive?” He found Megan staring at him curiously as he set his knife and fork down.

      “Just thinking.”

      She gave him a wicked grin. “About a woman?”

      “No comment, wench.”

      She laughed. Then her cell phone pinged to announce a new message and she looked down at the screen with a secret smile.

      “New admirer?”

      A slight stain of uncharacteristic colour tinged his sister’s cheeks. “Maybe.”

      “When do we get to meet him?” Kay leaned СКАЧАТЬ