Promise Of Passion. Natalie Fox

and defying her to question it. ‘She loathes being the way she is and living the rest of her life in that chair. Surely that’s understandable?’

      With both hands Caroline scooped her hair from her forehead and tried to cool her temper but it was hard when she had been through what she had, witnessing those two clawing at each other’s emotions and then Martha rushing in that way.

      ‘I…I’m sorry your mother is so ill—truly sorry,’ she expressed sincerely. ‘But I have to be honest about all this…’ Her voice trailed away and she shook her head slightly as if she couldn’t find the right words.

      ‘Go on,’ Ellis urged tightly, making her feel bad.

      She lifted her lashes and gazed at him, hoping he might understand. But then she supposed he wouldn’t. He was the sort to only see his own viewpoint.

      ‘I…I think I would find the work more stressful than I thought possible,’ she admitted. ‘I don’t know either of you well enough to begin to comprehend what I’ve seen today. I thought at first I could, that I could see why you were the way you were with each other—a sort of survival package to get you through the stresses of the incapacity.’

      He nodded. ‘Partly true but we’ve always been like that with each other and see no reason to change a way of life and slip into morbid routine because my mother is so sick. You caught her on a bad day today. It isn’t always like this.’

      Caroline nodded, understanding. It seemed to be a bad day all round for everyone. She thought of her mother at home, having one of her bad days, and the thought weighed heavy.

      She nodded towards the car where Martha had switched on the ignition and slipped a cassette into the dashboard player. Pop music blared out from the open door.

      ‘That’s a new life,’ she told him. ‘Vibrant, full of fun, ongoing and not looking back.’ She let out a small sigh and looked up at Ellis Frazer. ‘I walked into your mother’s sitting-room and felt I’d stepped back in time, between the pages of a Dickens pot-boiler…’

      ‘She had me late in life,’ offered Ellis with a small, apologetic smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

      Caroline gave him a weak smile in return. ‘I wasn’t suggesting that she was that old, but…but——’ another sigh ‘—I felt there were dark undertones between you, perhaps bitterness even, dreams not achieved, disappointments.’

      He raised a dark brow. ‘You’re very observant,’ he smoothed.

      So she hadn’t imagined it all. ‘But not curious. I don’t want to know them,’ Caroline said quickly. ‘I’m not prying and——’

      ‘And I’m not going to tell you anyway,’ he put in equally quickly. ‘Let’s leave it with both of us keeping our skeletons in our own cupboards, shall we?’

      Oh, that remark was well below the belt but at least he had admitted he had some dark secrets too. Hers were different, though; they didn’t belong to her and she realised this was the root of what she was trying to get at. These last years she’d seemed to be bogged down with everyone else’s problems but her own. And what were her own? Loneliness for one thing—the thought that there would never be a prince in her life; but she had a princess and she was indeed fortunate, as the Frazers were fond of telling her.

      Caroline gave herself the familiar mental shakedown and looked Ellis squarely in the eye.

      ‘I can’t do this commission for you,’ she stated honestly. ‘I can’t guarantee that there won’t be times when I might have to inflict Martha on you both again. You find her discomfiting and your mother obviously can’t stand children. You’ve already made it plain she isn’t welcome here. She’s my daughter and I’m biased, I know, because I love her so much but she is a delightful child. She hasn’t a spiteful bone in the whole of her little body. She’s innocent and untouched by all that’s wrong in the world and I don’t want her subjected——’