Gracious Lady Read online

  Jennie returned her gaze steadily for several minutes, and then she gave a slow nod. 'So we were,' she accepted knowingly, moving across the room towards the door now. 'Let's escape now, before I get dragged downstairs and forced to apologise to Aunt Celia.' She stopped in the doorway, glancing back impatiently. 'Sophie!' she prompted irritably when she saw she hadn't moved. 'If we get out now, Celia will be left a clear run to charm Daddy. Which will put her in a good mood.'

  And Maximilian—would it put him in a good mood too, to have that beautiful woman being charming to him? Now why had that thought even occurred to her...?

  She slowly joined the young girl. 'And maybe if it sweetens her up enough you won't have to apologise,' she said.

  'Oh, I'll still have to apologise. Abjectly.' Jennie rolled her eyes expressively. 'But an hour alone with Daddy could mean the difference between Celia's accepting it gracefully or being a real pain in the—about it!' she amended with feeling.

  She couldn't help returning the young girl's cheeky grin, finding her almost endearing at that moment, shaking her head ruefully as she followed Jennie down the back stairs to the kitchen. 'You really have it all worked out, don't you?' she said admiringly.

  Jennie smiled up at her. 'It's called surviving in an adult world.' She made a face.

  'Maybe,' Sophie accepted ruefully, knowing she had probably used similar subterfuge herself to get a lighter punishment as a child when she had offended her parents with her behaviour. 'And I'm sorry to disappoint you,' she added teasingly, 'but I'm afraid at the moment your father isn't alone; he has Paul with him.'

  Jennie gave another glance back at her as they neared the kitchen. 'Who's Paul?' She looked puzzled.

  ‘I would have thought you knew him,' she said in some surprise. 'He's—'

  'Ssh!' Jennie instructed impatiently as she came to an abrupt halt at the kitchen door. 'Daddy is in there telling your aunt that my aunt will be joining us for this late lunch we're all eventually supposed to be having! I know it's my fault that we're late,' she acknowledged at Sophie's pointed look. 'But I'm starving. Oh, God, I hope Daddy didn't see me just then!' She pressed back against the wall so that they couldn't be seen through the glass-topped door that led into the kitchen from this back stair.

  No angry Maximilian came bursting out of the kitchen, so Sophie could only assume that he hadn't spotted Jennie—and consequently her also—skulking out here!

  But she had forgotten all about lunch herself since waking up so late in the day, and, as Jennie had just pointed out, it was way past lunchtime now. A late lunch; it was going to be more like afternoon tea! And it seemed she was going to meet Celia at the meal too, something she wasn't exactly looking forward to, she had to admit— a feeling she had in common with Jennie. But for dif­ferent reasons. Just that brief glimpse of Celia had been enough to make her aware of the sharp contrast between the two of them, Sophie short and tomboyish, with freckles and unruly red hair, her clothing casual in the extreme. The other woman, probably aged somewhere in her late twenties, was sure to treat her on the same patronising level as she no doubt did Jennie. Just what her self-esteem needed!

  'Come on,' Jennie encouraged impatiently, the coast obviously having become clear while Sophie indulged in the tortuous self-doubt just looking at the lovely Celia had induced. 'Mm, as lovely as usual, Mrs Craine,' she said appreciatively after picking up one of the cakes that had been left out on a rack to cool and biting into it, her mouth now full of the light sponge.

  'Miss Jennifer!' Aunt Millie had turned from the cooker now, the young girl who came in at the weekends to help out also turning to look at them. 'Sophie!' Her aunt's eyes widened condemningly as she saw she had followed Jennie into the room.

  'Can't stop, Aunt Millie,' she called out as she hurried after Jennie, the young girl only having paused long enough to pick up another cake before going outside into the sunshine. Sophie hadn't dared to grab a cake for herself, even though the sight and smell of them had been enough to make her mouth water. Jennie had a double advantage over her now; Sophie hadn't had any lunch or breakfast!

  Jennie saw her empty hands. 'Aren't you hungry? Of course you are,' she answered her own question as she saw Sophie's expression. 'Then why didn't you—?

  Ah...the dreaded "aunt" syndrome,' she said know­ingly. 'Here.' She thrust the second cake at Sophie, munching hungrily on her own cake as she made her way determinedly towards the stables.

  Sophie was sure, that if Maximilian came to hear of the incident, he would have expected her to refuse to eat the stolen cake, that to eat it would be to condone Jennie's outrageous behaviour. But at that moment Sophie didn't care what Maximilian would think; the rumbling of her stomach told her it would be sheer stu­pidity not to eat the cake!

  But as she hurriedly followed Jennie across the stable-yard she did reflect on exactly who was supposed to be in charge of whom; Jennie certainly had a mind of her own, and a will to go with it, and, with Sophie's more easygoing nature of live-and-let-live, that could prove to be a problem over the next few days.

  Jennie already had one of the stable doors open, throwing a saddle up on to the back of a beautiful black mare, barely glancing up from the task of tightening the girth as Sophie came to stand in the doorway. 'Until I can see just how well you ride, you'd better take Becky,' she advised lightly. 'She's docile and obedient, and she's in the next stall to this one,' she added dismissively.

  If Maximilian and his daughter struck sparks off each other when they were together, it was easy to see why, Sophie muttered to herself as she moved to the stall next door! They were both so incredibly— Good God,

  Jennie believed this horse was 'docile and obedient',

  Sophie groaned inwardly as she opened the door to the neighbouring stall and found herself eyeball to eyeball with a very feisty-looking young chestnut mare. She was undoubtedly a beautiful horse, but 'docile and obedient' seemed a little hard to believe!

  Not that Sophie considered herself a bad rider; in fact she had ridden here on the estate a lot as a child. But it was a couple of years now since she had been up on the back of a horse, and she could already feel the strain to all those unused muscles if she had to master this horse today.

  'Hurry up, Sophie, we haven't got—good grief!' Jennie had obviously finished saddling her own horse, and had decided to come and chivvy Sophie along. But she looked as puzzled by the horse in this second stall as Sophie was apprehensive. 'What on earth...?' She dropped the leader reins to her own horse now, moving slowly forward to get a closer look at this chestnut mare, murmuring softly to the horse as she approached it. 'What are you doing here, Lady?' she crooned. 'You're a little far away from—Jenkins, what's Lady doing here?' she frowned at the stable-hand who seemed to have appeared from nowhere behind them.

  All that Sophie cared about at that moment was that this wasn't Becky, her relief enormous at the realisation that she didn't have to ride this particular horse at all. The mare shied away from Jennie now, snorting warningly as she did so.

  'If you intend going riding, Jennifer, then I suggest you do so without delay,' rasped the all too familiar voice of Maximilian Grant, his expression grim as he ap­proached from the house. 'And leave Jenkins to get on with his work.'

  Indignant colour darkened Jennie's cheeks at this unwarranted reprimand from her father; she hadn't been stopping Jenkins from working! ‘I was only—'

  'I'm well aware of what you "were only",' Maximilian bit out harshly, giving a brief nod to his middle-aged employee. Jenkins instantly refastened the door to Lady's stall. 'Haven't you already caused enough disruption for one day?' Maximilian turned on his daughter once again as she and Sophie stood watching the procedure.

  'It seems I do that by merely existing!' Jennie spat the words out defiantly before swinging herself up on to the back of the black mare, tossing her head back rebelliously before lightly digging her heels in to urge her mount out of the confining yard, the sound of thun­dering hoofs quickly following.
r />   'Well?' Maximilian looked at Sophie glacially as she stood helplessly by watching all of this. 'I thought you'd decided you wanted the job?'

  This really was the rudest, most arrogant family she had ever had the misfortune to meet!

  'Which horse do you want me to ride?' she prompted exasperatedly; she could hardly go after Jennie without a horse.

  'Jenkins will saddle Becky for you. Quickly,' he ordered the other man grimly. 'Lunch will be served in exactly forty minutes,' he said, turning dismissively back to Sophie.

  And they had better not be so much as a second later than that, Sophie guessed from his tone, or else she and Jennie would be in for another tongue-lashing from this man. Lunch promised to be a very jolly affair!

  It was exactly forty minutes later when she and Jennie went downstairs to the main sitting-room to join Maximilian and Celia before lunch; Sophie knew it was exactly forty minutes because Jennie had insisted on delaying until the last possible moment once she was aware of the request, deliberately lingering over her shower and then getting dressed. Request? Hah! Jennie hadn't been fooled for a moment by being told it was that, had known even better than Sophie that it was a dictate; Maximilian had never requested anything in his life, had probably been demanding in his cradle, and saw no reason to change!

  But, as Sophie had guessed it might be, a young female version of him was just as difficult to deal with, and the more she tried to hurry Jennie along so that they shouldn't be late and earn yet another black mark, the more determined Jennie seemed to be to dither, spending what seemed like hours choosing for her wardrobe what to wear, and then wandering off into the bathroom with them as if she had all day to shower and dress. Sophie had left her to it. She didn't know which was the most infuriating out of father and daughter—which the more stubborn, the mountain or Mahammet—but she did know that neither of them was willing to give an inch, and that it could be very wearing for the people who came into contact with them, specifically her!

  As it was it had taken her almost ten minutes of the specified time even to locate Jennie, having ridden Becky—who was, thankfully, docile and obedient— haphazardly over the grounds looking for her, finally coming upon her quite by chance near the stream that ran half a mile away from the main house, the black mare, which had obviously been ridden hard, taking a much needed drink.

  Pale blue eyes glared at Sophie warningly as she approached, silencing any questions she might have cared to ask, and although the two of them had ridden along together after that, Sophie had continued to respect the young girl's privacy. No doubt when Jennie was ready to talk she would do so; a lack of articulation didn't seem to be a problem with her!

  Her own denims and ‘I-shirt had had a definite smell of horses about them once she had undressed in prep­aration for her own shower, but she was very limited in the things she had brought with her, having packed in the first place with the idea of being companion to a teenage girl, not with any intention of taking part in a fashion show!

  But even that brief glimpse of Celia's dress she had had earlier had been enough to tell her it was a designer label, and, also considering the immaculate way Maximilian always dressed, she didn't think he would welcome her going down for the meal wearing her spare pair of denims. But her wardrobe was limited, and she wasn't altogether sure he was going to find the tight black leggings and over-long thin woollen jumper in a shade of green that made her eyes appear the same dark colour any more acceptable.

  Jennie had still been in the bathroom when Sophie went up to check on her, and so Sophie had gone back to her own room to collect her horse-smelling clothing to take through to the utility room, and throwing them into the washing-machine before going in search of Jennie once again; one more minute, and their forty minutes would be up!

  Thankfully, Jennie was just coming down the stairs when Sophie went out into the hallway, although the young girl's eyes widened as she joined her. 'Aunt Celia is going to hate you!' she said gleefully.

  God, that was just what she needed to hear! 'Why?' she groaned incredulously.

  Jennie grinned in anticipation. 'Because you have great legs, and you're young enough to get away with wearing those leggings,' she explained with satisfaction.

  From what Sophie had seen of the other woman's legs, there was certainly nothing wrong with them.

  'You also look sexy as hell in them,' Jennie added with relish for what she was sure was going to be a momentous meeting between her aunt and Sophie, and it was obvious that Jennie didn't mean her anticipation in a bitchy way—at least, not as far as Sophie was con­cerned, anyway!

  'Jennie!' she reproved distractedly, inwardly wondering if she had time to go and change again—all the time knowing that she didn't.

  'But you do,' Jennie was deliberately obtuse. 'Are you sure you aren't Daddy's latest mistress?' She quirked mocking brows.

  'Very funny!' Sophie sighed her impatience. 'Come on, let's go in and face them—before we get into trouble for being late this time!'

  Consequently, even though the two of them arrived exactly on time for the late meal, because of the con­versation they had just had in the hallway about Sophie's clothes she felt at a distinct disadvantage, self-conscious in the revealing leggings, something she had never felt when she'd worn them before.

  Maximilian and Celia were alone in the sitting-room, Paul Wiseman conspicuously absent—because he had felt like an unwanted third?—the couple both turning towards the doorway as Sophie and Jennie entered.

  Sophie looked at Maximilian with a certain amount of trepidation, noting the way his gaze narrowed on Jennie, but seemed satisfied with the tailored black trousers she wore with a loose silky blouse in the same ice-blue colour as her eyes. His gaze didn't pass as quickly over Sophie, though, and she could feel herself starting to squirm uncomfortably as he slowly took in her ap­pearance. She turned away quickly, only to find herself looking straight into violet-coloured eyes that were looking her up and down with the hostility Jennie had predicted!

  Celia stood up, gracefully crossing the room to kiss Jennie briefly on the cheek before turning to look at Sophie. 'Your father didn't tell me you were bringing a school-friend home with you, Jennifer,' she drawled with a challenging lift to one black winged brow.

  Ouch! Jennie was right: her aunt had taken an instant dislike to her. She knew her lack of height, and the freckles, detracted from her age, but there was no way, despite that, that she looked like a school-friend of Jennie's! She certainly wouldn't have minded looking the way Jennie did, but there was no way she could be mistaken for a sixteen-year-old.

  Maximilian stood up in one smooth movement. 'This is the young lady I told you about, Celia,' he drawled drily. 'She's here to help keep Jennie amused.'

  The sweepingly disparaging look Celia gave Sophie told her the other woman thought she was more than capable of amusing a teenager! Maximilian could have chosen his words a little more—carefully. Or perhaps he had, she realised slowly, as she saw the glitter of laughter in the depths of his eyes.

  'Celia Taylor—Sophie Gordon,' he introduced mockingly.

  'Mrs Taylor.' Sophie held out her hand politely. Even if she did sense that the other woman already disliked her, she wasn't going to give Maximilian any reason, if she could help it, to criticise her own manner towards Celia Taylor.

  What a strange family they were, she thought, not for the first time. A father and daughter who were so ar­rogantly alike that they didn't even realise it, and couldn't hope to understand each other because of that blindness. And now the sister of Maximilian's dead wife and Jennie's mother, who thought she had some sort of proprietorial claim on both of them, and warned off all other females because of it. Even Sophie, it seemed. Which was ridiculous. Or was it...? Her cheeks warmed as she remembered being close to Maximilian last night.

  They warmed even more as she realised that that was how she thought of him now—simply as Maximilian...

  'Ms Taylor,' the other woman corrected her sharply, eye
s narrowed on Sophie's flushed cheeks.

  'Celia is a career-woman, Sophie,' Maximilian sup­plied with an affectionate smile for his sister-in-law. 'She's never married, never felt the need to have one male permanently in her life,' he added teasingly.

  'That isn't quite true, Max.' Celia moved languidly to his side, putting her arm through the crook of his as she smiled up at him invitingly. 'The right man just hasn't asked me yet,' she corrected huskily.

  Jennie gave Sophie an ‘I told you so' raise of her eye­brows, and Sophie quickly averted her gaze so that her charge shouldn't think she was sharing the conspira­torial behaviour with her. Nor should 'Max', Sophie in­wardly pleaded as she saw that he hadn't missed the exchange, and was even now looking at her with narrowed eyes that contained not a little anger—and a lot of displeasure!

  She turned away from him just as quickly, frantically searching in her mind for something to say that would divert his attention away from that look Jennie had tried to exchange with her. 'What work do you do, Ms Taylor?' she said with forced brightness; she was going to be a nervous wreck at the end of this week if she had to keep skating on ice in this way!

  Violet eyes looked Sophie up and down before the other woman answered her in a somewhat bored voice, 'I'm a fashion editor,' and the magazine she mentioned after that had been heard of by everyone.

  Sophie might have guessed! Everything about this woman, from the top of her glossy black head to her daintily clad feet, spoke of stylish elegance. 'That's nice,' Sophie returned lamely, not knowing what else she could say to such a statement. She, who wasn't usually ever at a loss for words!

  'I happen to think so.' The other woman nodded dismissively. 'I'd be pleased to give you a few tips some time, if you're ever interested.'

  Ooh, ouch again! Strange, she had never before made an enemy of someone without even having had to say a word! As far as she was aware, she didn't go around making enemies anyway, though it seemed that all that was required of her this time was that she be female and in the same house as Maximilian Grant.