Gracious Lady Read online

  'Oh, you're awake, are you?' drawled a light feminine voice scathingly. ‘I thought perhaps you were going to sleep the whole day away!'

  Sophie wasn't sure how she had given herself away— perhaps an involuntary movement, or a change in the tenor of her breathing; but even as she struggled up into a sitting position the figure across the room moved towards the window and whipped back the curtains.

  Blinding sunlight blazed into the room, and for a moment Sophie was too dazzled to see anything but that bright light. And then, as her eyes became accustomed to the sunlight, she was at last able to see what her in­truder looked like.

  And she didn't look much like an intruder at all, more like Alice in Wonderland, with her long cascade of golden hair secured back from her face with a black band, her face that of a blue-eyed angel, the blue and white checked dress she wore secured at her slender waist with a narrow white belt. In fact, the way she looked, and the dress she was wearing, seemed a little young for her height, for she was easily taller than Sophie despite her apparent youth.

  The young girl stood beside the bed looking down at Sophie now, her top lip curled back disdainfully. 'I thought I would come and see what a paid companion actually looked like!' she dismissed with obvious con­tempt for the role.

  And obviously not an angel, after all, in spite of the way she looked!

  On closer inspection, the eyes were a familiar icy blue, the small pointed chin set at a determined angle. The outward shows of Maximilian Grant's strength of character were certainly far from attractive on his sixteen-year-old daughter—because Sophie didn't doubt now that this was who her 'intruder' was!

  'You aren't supposed to be here.' Sophie frowned, getting out of bed, aware as she did so that Jennifer was watching her every move, critically assessing, no doubt, the exact cost of the mass-produced chain-store cream nightshirt that Sophie was wearing, which although it had a silky look and feel to it, most certainly wasn't something as extravagant as silk.

  It was disconcerting to be looked at so scathingly by one so young. And it wasn't difficult now to see why Maximilian's daughter didn't share laughter with him; this young lady took herself far too seriously for that!

  'It's all there,' Jennifer scorned. 'Your money,' she explained derisively as Sophie turned to her questioningly. ‘I was only counting how much was there, not attempting to take any of it.' She moved to sit on the bed—well, fall on it actually, with little regard for its safety, looking up at Sophie challengingly. 'Is that all the money you have with you?' She arched dark blonde brows in a way that was all too reminiscent of her father.

  Sophie glanced across at the two crumpled five-pound notes and the pile of change that came to exactly fifty-six pence; she knew, because she had carefully counted it the night before! It was all the money she had in the world, not just with her. 'As a matter of fact, yes.' She shrugged dismissively.

  Jennifer gave a disgusted snort. 'Then no wonder you don't mind being a paid companion to someone you've never even met; Daddy gives me more than that as a weekly allowance!'

  That wasn't difficult to believe, but what this young lady really needed was a smacked bottom! 'Perhaps that's one of the reasons your father needs to pay someone to be your companion,' she returned softly.

  For a brief moment the insult seemed to have gone over Jennifer's snooty young head, and then her eyes widened indignantly. ‘I beg your pardon...?'

  'That's perfectly all right.' Sophie smiled at her disarmingly, deliberately misunderstanding her. 'I'm sure you didn't mean to be rude.'

  The young girl flushed, standing up now, her hands clenched at her sides. 'Well, that's where you're wrong; I meant to be very rude indeed!'

  Jennifer would be stamping her foot with frustrated anger in a moment, Sophie surmised with amusement, wondering how often such a display, a display Maximilian Grant would abhor, had managed to get Jennifer her own way in the past.

  'Then you succeeded, didn't you?' she dismissed pleasantly before taking her hairbrush from her bag and turning her back on the young girl, to look at her own reflection in the mirror and begin the morning ritual of taming her fiery locks; after a vigorous brushing they might fall into some sort of order.

  But she could see Jennifer's reflection behind her too, knew the young girl was momentarily thrown off balance by her reaction to her deliberate rudeness. Sophie couldn't even begin to guess at the reasons for the rudeness, but she did remember herself what it was like to be sixteen, and she could at least sympathise with the sheer frustration of being treated as that child-woman, too old to be made the allowances people would a child, but yet too young still to be treated as an adult. And it obviously rankled deeply with the young girl that her father had deemed it necessary to employ someone to spend time with her during her half-term holiday from school.

  But that didn't answer the question as to what Jennifer was doing here at all, when only last night Maximilian had told her his daughter wouldn't be coming home for the holiday after all, but spending it at her aunt's house. Unless he had lied to her? But Sophie didn't think that was the case either. She had believed him—arrogant as he was!—when he told her he certainly wouldn't stoop to lying to stop her feelings being hurt; Maximilian Grant would always be brutally honest, she was sure of it. But it...

  'My God!' she gasped, having caught the reflection of her wrist-watch in the mirror and seen that it was almost one o'clock. Lunchtime! Jennifer's initial comment about her 'sleeping the whole day away' now made complete sense.

  She had had no idea it was so late. Of course, it had been almost three o'clock in the morning before she finally climbed into bed and fell asleep, but even so...!

  'Someone should have woken me.' She frowned, wondering what on earth Maximilian Grant must think of her sleeping in until this time. She didn't doubt that he had been up for hours, despite his own lack of sleep the night before; he looked the type who only needed a couple of hours' rest a night to be able to get up fresh and alert the next day!

  'Someone did,' Jennifer drawled, her brows raised pointedly.

  God, yes. 'Did your father send you?' Sophie asked as she reached inside the wardrobe for her bag, putting it on to the bed to begin putting her things inside.

  'No, he—what are you doing?' Jennifer frowned as she watched her hurried movements.

  'Packing, of course,' Sophie told her impatiently, leaving out on the bed the denims and red ‘I-shirt she intended wearing for the day, and putting everything else inside the holdall. 'Didn't your father tell you that he had changed his mind about the "paid companion"?' she dismissed distractedly, looking about the room to make sure there was nothing she had forgotten; she always travelled light, but what she did take was always a necessity.

  Jennifer still frowned. ‘I haven't actually spoken to my father yet.'

  'What?' Sophie came to a skidding halt on her way to the bathroom to wash and dress before leaving, staring at the young girl disbelievingly.

  Jennifer returned the gaze defiantly. 'My father has no idea yet that I'm even here,' she announced haughtily, although that arrogance was belied slightly by a flicker of uncertainty in the blue of her eyes. ‘I took a taxi home from school,' she added challengingly.

  It must be some allowance, to have covered the cost of that taxi fare! It also explained the way Jennifer was dressed; the blue and white checked dress was obviously her school's summer uniform. But if Maximilian Grant didn't even know his daughter was at home...!

  'Don't you think you ought to have at least said hello to your father as soon as you got home?' Sophie suggested slowly, wondering what Maximilian Grant was going to have to say at having his plans changed so ar­bitrarily by this sixteen-year-old female version of himself!

  Jennifer, for all her defiance, was obviously wondering the same thing, plucking nervously, with long, elegant fingers, at the belt on her dress. 'I'm in no hurry for the explosion I know is sure to follow.' She shrugged with a knowing grimace. 'But I also have no intention of being fo
isted off on my aunt Celia for the week either!' she added rebelliously.

  Sophie came fully back into the bedroom, frowning heavily. She had a feeling Jennifer was going to be proved correct about the explosion; she couldn't somehow see Maximilian Grant taking his daughter's disobedience lightly. And she couldn't exactly blame him... 'But can't you see he might already be worried about you?' she reasoned. 'He may have already rung his sister to speak to you, or she may have rung him when you didn't arrive at her home as expected. Or—'

  'Aunt Celia isn't Daddy's sister!' Jennifer cut in scathingly. 'She's Mummy's younger sister,' she ex­plained with dislike. 'And she only offered to let me go to her house at all this week because she has the hots for Daddy—'

  'Jennifer!' Sophie gasped, not able to allow this dis­respect to pass unchecked.

  'I hate being called Jennifer!' the young girl snapped aggressively. 'Jen, or Jennie, but never Jennifer.'

  'All right—Jennie.' Sophie shrugged, dismissing the importance of what name she called the young girl by when there was something so much more important to discuss. Although...she couldn't help wondering if Maximilian Grant returned the 'hots' for the young sister of his dead wife! 'Being insulting about your aunt doesn't alter the fact that once your father discovers you haven't arrived at her house as arranged, he's going to be very worried—'

  'It certainly doesn't!' rasped a coldly forbidding voice.

  Both girls had spun round towards the open doorway at the first sound of that harshly angry voice, Jennie initially with guilt, though this was quickly followed by a return of that defiance, Sophie self-consciously, wondering just how much of their conversation he had overheard, and then becoming aware of how scantily dressed she was for this meeting with him, wearing nothing beneath the nightshirt.

  Colour slowly warmed her cheeks at the realisation, her nipples, as if fully aware of her predicament, choosing that moment to harden beneath the soft material, thrusting proudly forward.

  Not that Maximilian Grant looked in any mood at that moment to notice whether she was fully clothed or completely naked; his furious attention was firmly fixed on his daughter! Nevertheless, Sophie clutched her clothes in front of her defensively.

  'Do you have any idea of the trouble that's been caused by your thoughtless behaviour, young lady?' Maximilian Grant attacked savagely. 'The police have been informed of your disappearance—'

  'The police...?' Jennie echoed dazedly, her cheeks paling, her eyes a haunted blue.

  'Of course,' her father rasped, striding fully into the room, looking as Sophie had known he would—fresh and alert, in dark fitted trousers and another one of those white silk shirts he favoured, even though he could have got to bed no earlier than her; in fact, it might have been much later, for he had still been in the library when she went to her room.

  Jennie gaped at her father. 'But—'

  'What else did you expect me to do when I had telephoned Celia and she said you hadn't arrived there, and yet the school claimed you had left there over two hours ago?' her father pointed out exasperatedly. ‘I thought I was going insane when after all that I heard the sound of your voice here!' He shook his head dazedly; the relief of finding that his daughter was safe after all was still over-shadowed by the angry realisation of just how unnecessary his worry had been in the first place!

  Jennie swallowed hard, and although Sophie knew that the young girl's behaviour had been selfishly inconsid­erate, at the same time she couldn't help admiring the way Jennie refused to back down even before her father's obvious anger at her actions. Given half a chance, and if her determination to have her own way could be curbed a little, Jennie Grant might even become a passably likeable human being!

  'I was just introducing myself to—to—' Jennie looked at a loss suddenly as she realised that, although she had very forcefully informed Sophie what name she preferred to be known by, she actually had no idea of Sophie's own name!

  'Sophie,' she put in helpfully, beginning to feel a little sorry for the other girl; she certainly wouldn't want, after her own run-in with Maximilian Grant the night before, to be in Jennie's shoes during the next ten minutes or so!

  'It would seem you and Miss Gordon hadn't progressed too far in this so-called introduction,' Jennie's father derided harshly. 'And now I would suggest the two of us leave her in privacy so that she can at least put some clothes on!'

  She had been wrong; this man had noted exactly what she was, or wasn't, wearing!

  Her cheeks coloured anew as she realised he had probably been fully aware of the betrayal of her body seconds ago, too. God, she was excelling even herself in embarrassing moments with this man as witness! Poor Aunt Millie, although she had no idea of it, would have a lot to live down over the next few weeks!

  Jennie, who had shown herself to be rebellious, cer­tainly wasn't stupid, for she preceded her father to the door, not even sparing Sophie a second glance as she did so. Not that Sophie could exactly blame her; the poor girl must feel as if she were on her way to the gallows!

  Maximilian Grant didn't immediately follow his daughter from the bedroom; his gaze levelled on the packed bag on the bed before returning to Sophie. 'Don't leave until I've spoken to you again,' he rasped abruptly, following Jennie out into the carpeted hallway now, and closing the bedroom door firmly behind him.

  Sophie dropped down weakly on to the unmade bed, feeling as if she had just been put through an emotional wringer. She wasn't one of those people who woke up all bright and cheerful—even at lunchtime! She needed time and space to prepare herself for the day ahead; the Grant family seemed to meet life head-on, no matter what time of day it was!

  And what had that last remark of Maximilian Grant's meant? Did he mean not to leave until he'd had a chance to reprimand her for her part in his not being told immediately of his daughter's presence here, or did he mean something else entirely? Whatever, it was prudent not to go anywhere until he had at least finished talking to Jennie about her selfishly thoughtless actions.

  Her aunt was in the middle of preparing what was obviously going to be a late lunch when Sophie joined her in the kitchen a short time later. Jennie's behaviour seemed to have affected the whole household. But there was a fresh pot of coffee ready on the percolator, and so Sophie poured herself a cup, sipping it gratefully. She still didn't feel one hundred percent in tune with the world yet, even if she had luxuriated in a hot shower before dressing, her riotous curls now combed into some sort of order.

  Her aunt gave her a knowing look as she turned and saw her. 'I can't say I'm exactly surprised young Jennifer took it into her head to make her own arrangements for the holiday,' she said with rueful satisfaction. 'As strong-willed as her father, that one.' She shook her head. 'Still, it's lucky for you, isn't it?' She poured the remaining coffee into a china coffee-pot before putting it on a tray that was already laid up with a cup, sugar, and cream.

  Sophie frowned, not seeing the significance at all, but then she wasn't thinking properly yet. 'Is it?'

  'Well, of course it is.' Her aunt gave her an impatient look for being so obtuse. 'You can have your job now that Jennifer has come home after all.' She picked up the laden tray. 'Take this through to the library, will you, while I carry on with lunch?' She turned away distractedly.

  Sophie didn't move. Maybe she had missed something in the conversation, but she didn't for one moment believe that, just because Jennie was here now, she was actually going to remain here. Father and daughter might both be strong-willed, but Sophie didn't doubt which one was the stronger!

  'Take the tray through to the library, Sophie,' her aunt reminded her impatiently when she turned round and found her still standing there with the tray in her hands. 'Before the coffee gets cold,' she added pointedly.

  Sophie went. She needed to go to the library before she left, anyway, to return the book she had borrowed the night before. Besides, it would be interesting to see just how father and daughter were getting on now; they had ordered coffee, so they
couldn't still be at each other's throats.

  To her puzzlement the library appeared empty when she entered after the briefest of taps with the toe of her shoe, and she put the tray down on the coffee-table with a frown. She had expected to at least hear voices in the room, if not actual shouting; certainly she hadn't expected that there would be no one here at all!

  'Thanks,' a deep voice murmured appreciatively.

  Sophie spun round with a startled gasp, just in time to see a man getting up from the depths of the green leather wing-backed chair that faced towards the fire­place. She hadn't noticed him sitting there when she came in, the chair back slightly towards her, but as he stood up fully she realised he wasn't the man she had been expecting to find in here anyway. This man was younger than Maximilian Grant, probably in his early thirties, with dark hair cut severely short, his eyes brown, in an attractive face that somehow seemed to lack humour, his dark suit as austere as the rest of him.

  'Did I startle you?' he apologised lightly. ‘I didn't mean to, I was just thanking you for bringing my coffee.' He looked pointedly at the tray she had just put down.

  'Your coffee ...?' She had assumed that the tray was for Maximilian Grant and Jennie, although, now that she thought about it, her aunt hadn't actually said that it was.

  The man grimaced. 'Max is still talking to Jennie in his study. And you would be...?' He quirked dark brows curiously.

  In the study. Of course. It was the place Maximilian seemed to choose for unpleasant interviews!

  'Sophie Gordon.' She held her hand out to the man politely.

  'Paul Wiseman.' He returned the gesture, his hand strong and firm. 'I'm Mr Grant's assistant. I drove down this morning to join him here.'

  Ah, that explained a lot. At least... she thought it did. If Maximilian had been going to work down here for at least this weekend anyway, why had he arranged for Jennie to go to her aunt?

  'That's nice,' she said inanely, releasing her hand.