said she might be able to help in the photo shoot area.’
‘Give her my number and tell her to get in touch, and we’ll sort it.’ Charlotte grinned. ‘What did she think of her family home as the venue for James Crawford’s bash last Saturday?’
‘She was all for it.’
‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘I hadn’t expected to, but yes, I did.’ Harriet smiled wryly. ‘I put in an appearance to make sure that nothing untoward happened, but I needn’t have bothered. It was a very classy operation. No expense spared to make it a success.’
Life felt rather flat for a while after the party. Harriet saw nothing of her father, who kept well out of her way after their showdown. James rang twice, but she was out on both occasions and he didn’t ring again. She went out to dinner with friends one night and at the weekend to a concert in the town hall with Nick Corbett, and spent both evenings answering questions about the party.
‘You know, Harriet,’ Nick said, eyeing her, ‘I hardly recognised you in the shot in the paper.’
She smiled demurely. ‘I clean up well when I try.’
On the way out after the concert Harriet spotted a familiar face and intercepted Moira Graveney. ‘Hello there! Did you enjoy the concert? You remember Nick Corbett?’
‘Of course, we met at the King’s Head. Good evening, Mr Corbett. Harriet, how lovely to see you!’ Moira smiled warmly, the familiar hazel eyes alight with pleasure. ‘I enjoyed the music very much. I love Mozart, but Marcus doesn’t, so I came on my own.’
‘How is Claudia?’
‘Mending slowly. Her main problem is boredom.’
‘She broke her ankle at the party,’ Harriet informed Nick.
‘Bad luck!’ he said, wincing. ‘Ladies, will you excuse me for a moment—a friend is beckoning.’
‘I’m so glad I ran into you, Harriet,’ said Moira. ‘I was going to ring you tomorrow to ask if you’d come to lunch next Sunday. Unless you’ve had rather too much of my family lately?’
‘No, indeed,’ Harriet assured her. ‘I’d like that very much.’
‘Come about twelve. If the weather holds we’ll eat in the garden.’ Moira waved as a familiar figure entered the foyer. ‘Ah, my chauffeur’s arrived.’
Harriet smiled brightly as James Crawford came towards them.
‘You’re very punctual, James,’ said his sister.
‘Would I dare keep my sister waiting? Not that I had much choice; Marcus has been giving me reminders about the time for the past half hour.’ He turned to Harriet. ‘And how are you?’
‘Always better for a dose of Mozart,’ she assured him,and turned as Nick came back. ‘You remember Nick Corbett?’
James’s nod was cool. ‘Of course. You’re a Mozart fan too?’
Nick shook his head, smiling. ‘Not really. I bought the tickets to please Harriet.’
‘Time we were off,’ said Moira and, to Harriet’s surprise, leaned forward to kiss her cheek. ‘Don’t forget. Sunday at twelve.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Harriet assured her.
‘Good to see you both again,’ said James, and took Moira’s arm to lead her outside.
‘For a busy man he spends a lot of time in this area,’ said Nick as they followed suit.
‘Because his sister moved here recently. He’s very fond of Moira.’
‘Is it possible he’s fond of you, too?’ said Nick with a sidelong glance.
‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ she assured him.
‘Good to know. How about a drink at the King’s Head before you go home?’
Harriet enjoyed the drink and a lively chat with Nick in the busy bar and arrived home later to find a message on her machine from James.
‘Third time unlucky, it seems. I’ll try again some time. Or you could even ring me.’
Not a chance. James might get the mistaken impression that she was trying to rekindle something between them. Maybe he would be at Moira’s for lunch next Sunday. Not that she cared whether he was there or not. It would be good just to enjoy a meal and a pleasant hour or two with the
‘Give her my number and tell her to get in touch, and we’ll sort it.’ Charlotte grinned. ‘What did she think of her family home as the venue for James Crawford’s bash last Saturday?’
‘She was all for it.’
‘Did you enjoy it?’
‘I hadn’t expected to, but yes, I did.’ Harriet smiled wryly. ‘I put in an appearance to make sure that nothing untoward happened, but I needn’t have bothered. It was a very classy operation. No expense spared to make it a success.’
Life felt rather flat for a while after the party. Harriet saw nothing of her father, who kept well out of her way after their showdown. James rang twice, but she was out on both occasions and he didn’t ring again. She went out to dinner with friends one night and at the weekend to a concert in the town hall with Nick Corbett, and spent both evenings answering questions about the party.
‘You know, Harriet,’ Nick said, eyeing her, ‘I hardly recognised you in the shot in the paper.’
She smiled demurely. ‘I clean up well when I try.’
On the way out after the concert Harriet spotted a familiar face and intercepted Moira Graveney. ‘Hello there! Did you enjoy the concert? You remember Nick Corbett?’
‘Of course, we met at the King’s Head. Good evening, Mr Corbett. Harriet, how lovely to see you!’ Moira smiled warmly, the familiar hazel eyes alight with pleasure. ‘I enjoyed the music very much. I love Mozart, but Marcus doesn’t, so I came on my own.’
‘How is Claudia?’
‘Mending slowly. Her main problem is boredom.’
‘She broke her ankle at the party,’ Harriet informed Nick.
‘Bad luck!’ he said, wincing. ‘Ladies, will you excuse me for a moment—a friend is beckoning.’
‘I’m so glad I ran into you, Harriet,’ said Moira. ‘I was going to ring you tomorrow to ask if you’d come to lunch next Sunday. Unless you’ve had rather too much of my family lately?’
‘No, indeed,’ Harriet assured her. ‘I’d like that very much.’
‘Come about twelve. If the weather holds we’ll eat in the garden.’ Moira waved as a familiar figure entered the foyer. ‘Ah, my chauffeur’s arrived.’
Harriet smiled brightly as James Crawford came towards them.
‘You’re very punctual, James,’ said his sister.
‘Would I dare keep my sister waiting? Not that I had much choice; Marcus has been giving me reminders about the time for the past half hour.’ He turned to Harriet. ‘And how are you?’
‘Always better for a dose of Mozart,’ she assured him,and turned as Nick came back. ‘You remember Nick Corbett?’
James’s nod was cool. ‘Of course. You’re a Mozart fan too?’
Nick shook his head, smiling. ‘Not really. I bought the tickets to please Harriet.’
‘Time we were off,’ said Moira and, to Harriet’s surprise, leaned forward to kiss her cheek. ‘Don’t forget. Sunday at twelve.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ Harriet assured her.
‘Good to see you both again,’ said James, and took Moira’s arm to lead her outside.
‘For a busy man he spends a lot of time in this area,’ said Nick as they followed suit.
‘Because his sister moved here recently. He’s very fond of Moira.’
‘Is it possible he’s fond of you, too?’ said Nick with a sidelong glance.
‘You couldn’t be more wrong,’ she assured him.
‘Good to know. How about a drink at the King’s Head before you go home?’
Harriet enjoyed the drink and a lively chat with Nick in the busy bar and arrived home later to find a message on her machine from James.
‘Third time unlucky, it seems. I’ll try again some time. Or you could even ring me.’
Not a chance. James might get the mistaken impression that she was trying to rekindle something between them. Maybe he would be at Moira’s for lunch next Sunday. Not that she cared whether he was there or not. It would be good just to enjoy a meal and a pleasant hour or two with the
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