there.’ Jack held her long black trench coat for her, and looked on in approval while she set her alarm and locked her door. ‘I’m glad to see you’re safety conscious.’
‘Big city habits.’ She smiled, impressed, when Jack opened the passenger door of his car. ‘A Jensen, no less!’
‘Classic cars are my hobby these days,’ he told her, as he slid behind the wheel, ‘and in common with Bran, a lot less trouble than humans.’
Kate laughed. ‘You mean women.’
‘If the cap fits,’ he agreed, eyes crinkling.
Instead of making for the town centre as she’d expected, Jack drove in the opposite direction. ‘Country pub?’ she asked.
‘I’ve organised dinner at home. I thought you’d like to see my house.’
He was right about that! ‘The one no woman sets foot in?’ she asked lightly.
‘Molly Carter sets foot in it regularly, twice a week when I’m away, more when I’m not.’
‘I came across pictures of it in a magazine once, with a big article about you,’ she told him, remembering her shock at finding his face in her Sunday paper. ‘My colleagues were deeply impressed when I mentioned—very casually—that I knew you.’
‘Did you say how well?’
‘No. Not even Anna knew that.’ She hesitated, then asked something she’d been burning to ask for years. ‘Jack, did you pass your mother’s ring on to Dawn?’
‘No,’ he said shortly, and turned down a narrow road towards a pair of handsome, wrought-iron gates. ‘These are original,’ he told her as he aimed a remote control.
Kate sat tense in anticipation as the car moved slowly along a narrow drive lined with trees. At the end of it Jack circled round a lawn to park in front of a long house with light blazing from rows of tall windows.
‘Two hundred years ago it was a flax mill, but when I came on the scene it was practically a ruin,’ Jack told her. ‘At first I thought it was too far gone for restoration.’
‘But you could see what it would become,’ said Kate with respect. ‘Or what it could go back to.’
‘Exactly,’ he said with satisfaction. As she got out of the car Kate’s eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar figure in the open doorway.
‘Tom!’ she said in delight.
‘I thought you wouldn’t mind an extra guest, Kate,’ said Jack dryly.
Tom Logan kissed her affectionately. ‘I said he was mad to want his father along when he’d asked a beautiful woman to dinner, but Jack insisted.’
‘Quite right, too,’ she assured him, fleeting disappointment replaced by relief. Jack was obviously not expecting feminine solace in return for dinner.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘WELCOME to my humble abode,’ said Jack, the mockery in his smile telling Kate her relief was written on her face. ‘I’ll take your coat.’
‘I’ll do that,’ said his father. ‘You show her the house.’
Kate had pored greedily over the photographs in the magazine article but seeing the house with her own eyes was a different experience. A faded Persian carpet softened the granite flags of the entrance hall,but the main impression was light. The crystal-strung candles of twin chandeliers poured light down on walls and banisters painted pristine white. Kate stood utterly still for a moment then crossed the hall, drawn by the only painting on view,a portrait of a hand some, rakish man in Regency dress over a fireplace obviously original to the building.
‘How very grand. He wasn’t in the photographs. Is he an ancestor?’ she asked, and Jack shook his head, grinning.
‘Dad thought the chap looked a bit like me, so he bought it at auction.’
Jack led her across the hall into a long room with more white walls and rows of tall windows, but the light was softer here, from lamps shaded in neutral silk. An antique desk lived in harmony with large-scale modern furniture, but it was the dimension of the room that silenced Kate.
‘Say something!’ urged Jack.
‘It’s breathtaking. All this space!’ She smiled as she waved a hand at the windows. ‘You’ve got something against curtains?’
He shrugged. ‘No neighbours, and the windows are draught-proof, made to my own specification to blend with the house. I had some blinds made for the bedrooms, but otherwise I let in as much light as possible.’
Kate gazed round her in awe. ‘The photographs didn’t do it justice. My place is a doll’s house by comparison.’
‘But equally attractive in its own way.’ He took her arm. ‘Let’s join Dad. It’s time I gave you a drink.’
The entire evening proved far more relaxed for Kate with Tom Logan there than if she’d