Chistmas In Manhattan Collection. Alison Roberts

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      So she didn’t need to make eye contact with Charles to know that the truth was every bit as gut wrenching as she had suspected it would be.

      ‘I don’t understand,’ she murmured. ‘Why was he even saying anything?’

      ‘It’s because of the gossip column. That photo. Any Davenport news is going to be jumped on around here. They’re like New York royalty.’

      ‘What gossip column? What photo?’

      ‘You don’t know?’ Helena’s eyes widened. ‘Look. I can show you on my phone. I have to admit, you do look like a really happy little family...’

      * * *

      Focus, Charles reminded himself. Shut out anything irrelevant that’s only going to make everything worse.

      He had responsibilities that took priority over any personal discomfort.

      His boys came first. He’d been a little later for work this afternoon, after getting home from the parade, because he’d needed to brief Maria about the renewed media interest in his life and warn her not to say anything about his private life if she was approached by a journalist. He was going to keep the boys away from nursery school for a day or two, as well, for the same reason.

      He’d assumed that he’d see Grace at work and be able to have a quiet word and warn her that she might be faced with some unwelcome attention but she hadn’t been in the department when he’d arrived. Instead, he’d been confronted with the reality that interest in the Davenport family’s private lives was never going to vanish. How had someone found out that Grace worked here? Had it helped to deal so brusquely with that journalist who had been masquerading as a patient or had he protested too much?

      At least Grace hadn’t been there to hear him dismissing her as someone who would never be anything more significant than a friend but the echo of his own words was haunting him now.

      It wasn’t true. He might have no idea how to handle these unexpected emotions that were undermining everything in his personal life that he’d believed would never change but the thing he could be certain of was that his own feelings were irrelevant right now.

      He was in a meeting, for heaven’s sake, where his push for additional resources in his department was dependent on being able to defend the statistics of patient outcomes and being able to explain anomalies in terms of scientific reasoning that was balanced by morality and the mission statements of Manhattan Mercy’s emergency room.

      He had to focus.

      One meeting merged into the next until it was late in the day and he was still caught up in a boardroom. The detailed report of how his department and others had coped in the power cut last month was up for discussion with the purpose of making sure that they would be better prepared if it should ever happen again.

      It was hard to focus in this meeting as well. The day of the power cut had been the day that Grace Forbes had walked back into his life in more than a professional sense. It seemed like fate had been determined to bring her close as quickly as possible. How else could he explain the series of events that had led her to meet his sons and remind him of how lucky he actually was? That had been when his barriers had been weakened, he realised. When that curiosity about Grace had put her into a different space than any other woman could have reached.

      The kind of determination to focus that was needed here was reminiscent of one of the most difficult times of his life—when he’d had to try and pass his final exams in medicine while the fallout of the Davenport scandal had been exploding around him. How hard that had been had been eclipsed by the tragedy of Nina’s death, of course, but he’d somehow coped then as well.

      And he could cope now.

      ‘We can’t base future plans on the normal throughput of the department,’ he reminded the people gathered in this boardroom. ‘What we have to factor in is that this kind of widespread disruption causes a huge spike in admissions due to the accidents directly caused by it. Fortunately, it’s a rare event so we can’t resource the department to be ready at all times. What we can do is have a management plan in place that will put us in the best position to deal with whatever disaster we find on our doorstep. And haven’t there been predictions already for severe snow storms in December? If it’s correct, that could also impact our power supply and patient numbers.’

      By the time his meeting finished, a new shift was staffing the department and Grace was nowhere to be seen.

      He could knock on her door when he got home, Charles decided, but a glance at his watch told him that he’d have to be quick. He was due to take the boys to their grandparents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner tonight and he was already running late.

      Was she even at home? He’d heard about the staff dinner at a restaurant being planned and, when there was no response to his knock other than a warning bark from Houston, he hoped that was exactly where she was.

      Out having fun.

      More fun than he was likely to have tonight, with his mother still stressed about renewed media interest in the family and the necessity of trying to keep two three-year-old boys behaving themselves at a very formal dining table.

      Maria had got the boys dressed and said she didn’t mind waiting while he got changed himself. A quick shower was needed and then Charles found his dinner jacket and bow tie. The formality was a family tradition, like getting the annual Davenport photograph that would be made available to the media to remind them that this family was still together. Still strong enough to survive anything.

      Charles rummaged in the top drawer of his dresser, to find the box that contained his silver cufflinks. He didn’t know how many of the family members would be there tonight but hopefully the table would be full. Elijah would definitely be there. And Zac, who was about to start his new job at Manhattan Mercy.

      His fingers closed around a velvet box and he opened it, only to have his breath catch in his throat.

      This wasn’t the box that contained his cufflinks. It was the box that contained the Davenport ring. The astonishing pink diamond that Nina had accepted when she had accepted his proposal of marriage. A symbol of the continuation of the Davenport name. A symbol of their position in New York society, even, given the value and rarity of this famous stone.

      As the oldest son, it had been given to Charles for his wife-to-be and there was only one person in the world who could have worn it.

      Nina.

      Shadows of old grief enclosed Charles as he stared at the ring. He could never give it to anyone else.

      It wouldn’t even suit Grace...

      Oh, help...where had that come from?

      Memories of how he’d felt waking up this morning came back to him in a rush. That excitement. The pleasure.

      The...longing...

      And right now, those feelings were at war with remnants of grief. With the weight of all the responsibilities he had been trying so hard to focus on.

      The battle was leaving him even more confused.

      Drained, even.

      He left the ring in its opened box on top of the dresser as he found СКАЧАТЬ