Love and Marriage at Harpers, page 10
‘Thank you, Miss Ross. I got a passage sooner than I expected and thought I would surprise you – I hope it is a good surprise?’
‘Oh yes, of course,’ she replied and her cheeks were warm. She was finding it hard to breathe and her chest felt tight. He was smiling, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes and Sally had a feeling that he was angry. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘Why should there be anything wrong?’ he asked, his voice icy. ‘I know that I owe the success of Harper’s to you – at least that is what Jenni tells me and I always believe my sister…’
Why was he so cold? He hadn’t asked her how she was or said it was nice to see her and she could feel his disapproval, see it in his eyes, so what had she done to displease him?
‘I could hardly have run this place alone,’ Sally said, feeling hot and uncomfortable under that piercing gaze. ‘I believe I’ve helped things on their way by choosing the right stock for my departments, but you have a lot of good people here, Mr Harper.’
‘Yes, I know,’ he said and his smile was now a few degrees above freezing. ‘I intend to do something to reward everyone for their loyalty – especially when I wasn’t sure of the future…’
‘Jenni said you’d solved the problem?’
‘Yes. My aunt has agreed a loan of a hundred thousand dollars should I need it, but I hope we shan’t have to use it.’
‘At the moment we’re showing a tiny overall profit, I think?’ Sally ventured as her pulse returned to something like normal. Whatever was getting at it him it didn’t seem to be the store?
‘Yes, we are,’ Ben agreed and now he was almost cordial. ‘That is why I want to show my appreciation – and I’d like your advice, Miss Ross. Would the staff appreciate a small raise in their wages or a party?’
‘I’m not really sure,’ Sally replied, wrinkling her brow. ‘Most of them would be happy with a raise, but some might like a party… something that shows you realise how hard they’ve worked.’
‘So a small rise in wages and a few drinks and canapés here after work rather than a lavish do at a hotel?’
‘Yes, that sounds about right,’ Sally agreed and smiled. His down-to-business attitude had slowed the rapid beating of her heart and she was almost calm. ‘It’s nice to see you back, sir, and I’m glad it all went well for you in America…’
‘What did Jenni tell you?’ He frowned and looked wary.
‘Jenni said you were busy – and that your aunt was talking about a loan in the future if you required it. What else would she tell me?’
‘Nothing…’ He turned away from her and she saw the tension in his broad shoulders. Something was bothering him, but he was controlling it. ‘Tell me, Miss Ross, have you been well? What have you been doing with your life?’
Sally hesitated, unsure of what to say; she decided to stick to work. ‘Nothing much except keeping busy here. We had a dip in sales during January,’ she said. ‘I think it was because we bought in seconds. In future I think we should sell end of lines at reduced prices and perhaps a percentage off regular stock…’
‘And is that all?’ As he faced her again, his eyes seemed to bore into her, making Sally wonder what she’d done wrong.
‘Have I done something?’ she asked. ‘If I have, I do not know how I’ve offended—’
‘You’ve done nothing you’re not entitled to do,’ he said, a glimmer in his eyes. ‘I should like a copy of all the accounts and current stock lists by the end of the day. If you will arrange to have them on my desk by this evening please.’
‘Yes, of course, sir.’
His eyes seemed to snap at her. ‘My name is Ben – Mr Harper if you have to, but please do not call me sir. It sounds as if I’m old enough to be your grandfather…’
‘I’m sorry…’ Sally began, but she was talking to thin air. Mr Harper had gone, shutting the door with a sharp click. She had the feeling that he’d been keeping his temper on a tight rein but had no idea why.
She’d been so happy to see him, but his attitude upset her. If she’d addressed him formally, it was his fault. He was the one that had closed up on her. He’d gone back to America without a word and she’d heard nothing from him. Now he was snapping at her because she called him sir – how was she supposed to act when he was around? Ben Harper wanted to be her friend one minute and the next he was glaring at her as if she were the enemy…
Ben walked the length of three blocks before he cooled down enough to think clearly. He was a damned idiot, allowing his feelings on seeing Sally, her beauty and her poise, to erupt into unwarranted temper. He wasn’t sure why he’d lost his control, except that the previous night he’d seen Sally in the arms of another man and it had made him want to break the so-and-so’s neck and shake her until she came to her senses. He fingered the object in his pocket and his expression darkened. Ben Harper had been to hell and back and he’d been looking forward to surprising Sally when he returned to the country he now thought of as home – but he’d waited outside her apartment for her to come in after he’d learned that she’d been meeting a friend and then he’d seen her kissing that damned fellow and his anger had become white hot.
Maybe it was his fault he’d lost her. He should’ve let her know he thought she was lovely and that he was falling for her – but he couldn’t have done things differently. Ben hadn’t been free to say the things he’d longed to say and Sally had made it clear that she was the kind of girl who wanted marriage or nothing. Was that what her escort had offered her? She’d smiled when he kissed her in the car and looked happy when she ran across the road in the rain and his heart had stopped until she was safe on the other side, because it reminded him of another girl and another time, and a tragic outcome.
Ben had been too anxious and too frustrated to go after Sally the previous night. He’d intended to be cool, calm and dispassionate when they met this morning, but it seemed that was impossible for him where she was concerned.
It was too late for him to speak now, but he had to come to terms with seeing her every day, because she was damned good at her job and he didn’t want to lose her. Sally had made her choice and he was a fool to let it get to him. He should be grateful for all that she’d done. He was at fault, not Sally. Ben should have stayed in touch more, sent her a cable or written, instead of just leaving her in the dark. He was the fool and Sally was not to blame – and yet seeing her with another man rankled…
If she allowed that rogue to kiss her, what more had she allowed him? Ben had expected her to be wearing an engagement ring that morning and it angered him that she wasn’t. He remembered when he’d offered to help her pay her rent and she’d acted as if he’d made a move on her virtue – was that just a show of modesty for him, because from Ben Harper she wanted marriage? Did she see him as a good prospect – the right kind of husband material? Perhaps her other friend was just a friend and he was misjudging her – but if so why had she allowed the kiss and why look so happy about it?
Perhaps he was just jealous? Ben knew he was capable of jealousy and wasn’t proud of himself and yet he couldn’t stop the maggot eating away at his insides. In his head, Sally Ross was his. He’d thought she must sense that, feel that invisible string he’d felt pulling them together from the start – but if she’d given herself to someone else… The sickness rose in his gut and he wanted to tear the man who had despoiled her limb from limb. She should have waited… she must have known he would come back when he could.
No, hell! How could she have known when he’d never hinted or said a thing to tell her that he admired her more than any woman he’d ever known? He’d kept it all inside, even though it had been difficult at times, but he’d done it because he had no right – and if he’d kissed her he would probably have ended up in bed with her and that would have ruined her life, so he’d kept a discreet distance. More fool him! He should have made her his own while he had the chance…
Ben wasn’t sure whether he was more upset with Sally for not waiting or with himself for not telling her the truth. Yet he hadn’t been free and the bitter despair had made him hold back and keep his secrets when he should have been open. Sally had no idea how he felt about her. He should have told her about Maribel… but it was too painful and he was too guilty to talk about what he’d done – the tragedy that had ruined his life and Maribel’s too.
His young wife had been pretty, full of life and excited to be marrying a man who could take her away from the poverty of her life, only his father had disowned him for choosing the daughter of a hillbilly, as his father had so rudely called her, and Ben hadn’t been able to give her all the things she’d wanted.
Ben felt wet on his cheeks and angrily brushed it away. All the tears had been shed a long time ago when he’d left Maribel in the hospital, knowing that she would never run or laugh or make love again, but just lie there like a cabbage and stare accusingly at him whenever he visited. She was in there somewhere, inside that useless lump of disfigured flesh; he knew she was still there, and she blamed him for the waste of her young life and Ben knew he was to blame and that was why he had to stand by her and pay for her to be washed and fed and kept alive, even though it was a living death. And he had to live with the knowledge that it was because of him that Maribel, and all that she had been, was lying there waiting for death.
Ben had hated himself for such a long time. There had been other women in his bed since Maribel, but only because he needed the release of sex. He’d chosen the women he slept with carefully and took nothing from them they were not willing to give or sell. He neither offered love nor asked for it and he knew he had the reputation of a bastard. Uncle Gerald had disliked that in him and it was the reason he hadn’t given him full control of Harper’s.
‘I like you, Ben,’ he’d told him once, ‘but you’re a heartless bastard and I’m not sure I can trust you to look after my baby…’
The stores were like children to his uncle and Ben had laughed, promising that he would treat the store like a lover.
‘That’s just the trouble,’ his uncle had said. ‘I’m not sure you know how to love.’
But Ben did know how to love. He’d loved the sweet, shy, spoiled girl that was Maribel, but because they were both headstrong they’d quarrelled and she’d had a temper. She’d run from him in anger over a stupid trifle and, in the blinding rain, straight into the path of the truck that had knocked her down…
Ben had never told anyone the truth about the young girl he’d married. Not even his beloved sister, Jenni. It hurt too much and he was too wracked with guilt, too remorseful to allow himself to seek understanding or sympathy. He took what he needed from life and visited the shell of his wife and told no one nor asked for anyone’s help. The hospital took every dollar he had to spare for years and everyone thought he must be a fool or a gambler when he had no money to buy new cars or houses and it was only when he started to work for his uncle that he managed to save a little and think of a future.
He hadn’t felt anything but the release of sex with a woman for years – and then an English Cockney girl smiled as they looked at a shop window together and for the first time the ice cracked. It thawed a little more each time he saw her and the wanting became an ache inside him, but Sally Ross wanted marriage and Ben Harper was married to a girl he’d run off with when he was nineteen…
He’d been a fool not to tell Sally! Perhaps if he’d revealed his story, Sally would have understood and then it wouldn’t be too late, because Ben was free at last, but now it meant nothing. The only woman he wanted had been in another man’s arms… but he could only blame himself and somehow he had to live with it.
14
Rachel served her customer with a silver bangle and a gold gypsy ring set with garnets and pearls. It was the third time he’d been in to purchase goods in the last fortnight and he’d bought something on each occasion.
‘Someone is going to be lucky,’ she said as she did the packages up for him with ribbon and Harper’s distinctive black and gold boxes. ‘Are they all for the same lady?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘Last week I bought a gift for my sister-in-law, Wendy, a special bag for my aunt in Hampstead, and the week before that I bought a silver brooch for my sister, Mary – these are for my nieces, Simona and Jacqui…’
‘Well, you do have a lot of ladies to buy gifts for…’ Rachel said and presented him with the small carrier bag.
‘The only problem is I’ve run out of female relatives to buy gifts for,’ he said and looked rueful. ‘I’m not sure what excuse I can use to come here again…’
Rachel felt a little shiver at her nape and looked at him. She was startled by what she saw there, because it was unmistakeable. She’d seen admiration in a man’s eyes before but not for years – or not that she’d noticed.
‘I’m not sure what you mean, sir…’ she said, a little flustered.
‘I know your name is Rachel Craven,’ he replied, ‘and one of the girls called you Mrs… but you’re not wearing a wedding ring…’
Rachel felt breathless but managed to answer calmly. ‘I’m a widow. My husband died nearly three years ago now…’
‘I’m so sorry; I know how hard that can be. My wife died five years ago. I have a good family and they try to look after me. My sister-in-law is always introducing me to young ladies – but I would prefer to choose my friends for myself.’ He hesitated, then said formally, ‘Mrs Rachel Craven – would you allow me to take you to lunch somewhere nice this Sunday, please? I promise that I’m harmless, solvent, clean, and I don’t have a prison record…’
Rachel couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her. She’d chatted to him each time he came in to buy a gift and realised that she found him pleasant, and short of them both having a mutual friend, they had no other way of being introduced.
‘Would you mind telling me your name?’
‘Of course, you don’t know…’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘I’m William Bailey; I’m a qualified solicitor – and I’m looking for a friend and perhaps a wife…’
‘Well, that was rather more information than I asked for…’ Rachel was brimming with laughter now but tried to hold it in. ‘Where shall we meet?’
‘You mean you will…’ His whole face lit up and she felt pleased that she’d trusted her instinct. ‘I know of a very nice restaurant near the park… it’s called the Cherry Pie…’
‘Yes, I know it,’ Rachel said. ‘I went there with some friends for lunch the other day. Shall we meet there at a quarter to one?’ She was glad he’d chosen somewhere she was familiar with, because it was nice but not so posh that she would feel uncomfortable.
‘Yes, thank you so much.’ He tipped his hat to her. ‘I feel very lucky and honoured. Good day to you, Rachel Craven. I shall look forward to Sunday…’
Rachel watched as he walked from the department and then she felt the hot flush of embarrassment rush over her. What on earth had she done – saying yes to an invitation from a man she knew nothing about? It was stupid and brazen of her and of course she wouldn’t go… she couldn’t, could she? He could be anyone – a murderer or something… and that thought was even more stupid. She’d never seen anyone less like a murderer and this was just a reaction to being flirted with by a man.
She’d made up her mind to put the past behind her. The shadow of her husband’s illness had haunted her for a long time, but now she was ready to put that away and find happiness. She was a little uncomfortable that she’d allowed a stranger to invite her out, but she seldom met gentlemen these days and Mr Bailey was a gentleman. He’d visited the department three times in order to ask her out and she was glad she’d said yes, even though it went against all that she’d been taught as a young woman when it would have been frowned on even to speak to a man who had not been properly introduced.
A smile touched her lips. Sunday lunch was hardly decadent and she could always say thank you afterwards and walk away and yet she knew, even as her mind wrestled with anxious thoughts, that she was looking forward to the engagement. It was a long, long time since a gentleman had taken her to lunch…
Her thoughts of the persistent gentleman fled as she saw her employer enter the department with Mr Stockbridge and Mr Marco following behind. Mr Harper came up to her, smiling and offering to shake hands.
‘Good morning, Mrs Craven,’ he said. ‘Your department looks bright and rather exciting. It seems to have grown since I was last here?’
‘Yes, Mr Harper,’ Rachel smiled. ‘Miss Ross was so pleased with the jewellery sales that she had more cabinets put in and we have twice as much stock as we did when we started last year.’
‘That is marvellous,’ he replied with a nod. ‘And the rest of your department?’
‘The hats are always good sellers,’ Rachel informed him. ‘Gloves are a little more seasonal, though the scarves are always wanted for gifts…’
‘I am more than pleased with your sales, Mrs Craven. I want to thank you and your staff for your efforts and to assure you all that your loyalty in looking after my business will be rewarded with a ten per cent pay rise – and a bonus of ten shillings this week…’
‘I’m sure everyone will be very happy with that,’ Rachel said. She hesitated, then, ‘Are you back in London for some time now, sir?’
‘It is my intention to make my home here, because Harper’s is very important to me and I mean to make it a lasting success,’ he answered, a little nerve flicking at his temple. ‘I shall be looking for a permanent home now that I’ve sold what I had in New York…’
‘Ah, the beautiful Mrs Craven,’ Mr Marco said, coming up to her after chatting with Beth for a moment. ‘You will allow me to use some of your best items for my window display, I hope. I want to recreate Aladdin’s Cave with jewels and bright scarves, also silver from the ground floor… it came to me in a dream last night. You will permit?’ His eyes twinkled at her. ‘You will keep this secret on pain of death?’
