Lovelink Page 3

A few minutes later, Jan reappeared.

  “Definitely 54, Manor Gardens, chief.”

  Vicky sighed.

  “Now how am I going to track him down? If I don’t get to the bottom of this, Marcus Foster is likely to cause all sorts of trouble for me.”

  Jan smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Now that’s man who can throw as much trouble my way as he likes. What a hunk.”

  Vicky blushed.

  “Well, I suppose he is attractive, if you like that type of man but for me he loses any advantage he has in the looks stakes by being so incredibly rude.”

  Jan laughed, “Well, you must be the only female under sixty in Brookleigh who doesn’t have the hots for him. Lovelink would be made if you could get him on the books. He’s the most eligible bachelor we’ve got around here.”

  “I’m afraid that’s highly unlikely to happen. We didn’t exactly hit it off and I think the less he has to do with Lovelink the better he’ll like it. And that goes for me, too.”

  Vicky was so emphatic it stopped the conversation dead. She noted Jan’s surprised expression and realised she’d gone a bit over the top with her diatribe. It always seemed that when Marcus was around, or even just mentioned, she lost the tight control she had on her emotions.

  Jan chewed the end of her pencil for a moment and then said, “I know. You could try phoning Alan Jeffreys’ work number. Maybe that isn’t false.”

  Vicky smiled.

  “Jan, you’re brilliant.”

  “What have I been telling you all this time?”

  Vicky went over to her telephone and lifting the receiver punched out the number for Alan Jeffreys’ office.

  “Good morning, Wyatt’s Distributors.” A very efficient receptionist answered.

  “I’d like to speak to Mr. Alan Jeffreys. Could you connect me, please?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeffreys has a dental appointment this morning and isn’t in work yet. Could I take a message?”

  “No, I’d like to speak to him personally. When do you expect him to return?”

  “Around eleven o’clock.”

  Vicky assured the woman she’d phone back and then replacing the receiver, she went out to see Jan and asked, “Have I many appointments this morning?”

  “A few. The first one’s due in at eleven.”

  “Damn. Could you do me a big favour and delay them? This is important. I’ve got to go over to Wyatt’s Distributors. I want to catch Alan Jeffreys when he returns to his office,” Vicky explained.

  Jan nodded. “I’ll take a leaf out of your book and keep them talking for ages.”

  Vicky laughed. “If you weren’t very near to being indispensable I might just consider sacking you.”

  She left the office and for the second time that morning headed for Churchton. At least she was getting to know the area better if nothing else, she thought.

  Vicky remembered passing Wyatt’s Distributors earlier that morning on her way to Manor Gardens and therefore she found it easily. It was a fairly small firm and seeing a sign to the car park she drove around the side of the building to a large tarmacked area. Looking at her watch she saw it was almost ten thirty. She sat back ready to wait the half an hour or so before Alan Jeffreys returned. She watched the lorries toing and froing for a while before she saw a black sports car pull in to the car park. Her heart thumped uncomfortably. She recognised him immediately. It was Alan Jeffreys. Allowing him time to park, she studied him as he climbed out of his car. It was easy to see how Caroline could have fallen for him. Dressed immaculately in a tailored pin-striped suit, he was tall with prematurely grey hair. It gave him a distinguished air and Vicky couldn’t deny he was extremely attractive.

  As he was locking his car door, she got out of her Metro and walking up to him said, “Mr. Jeffreys?”

  He turned towards Vicky and smiled. But the moment it registered who she was, his smile faded.

  “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

  Hardly welcoming, Vicky thought.

  “Good morning, Mr. Jeffreys. I’ve come to ask you a few questions,” she smiled, sweetly.

  “Not here. Anyone could see us.”

  “Surely no-one would mind unless you’ve something to hide. What could that be? Let’s see. How could you talking to the boss of a dating agency be embarrassing unless of course you were married.”

  He blushed and said, “Err…I’m not.”

  Certain he was lying now she was ready to play her trump card.

  “Funny; the receptionist was quite adamant that you were married. Said you’d just gone to the dentist with your wife. But it’ll be easy to sort out. We’ll just go in and ask her, shall we?”

  Lying through her teeth was something she was getting good at, Vicky thought.

  “No! We won’t. All right. I’ll admit it. I am married. I didn’t want to get involved with this in the first place. I told them…” He coloured a darker shade of red.

  Vicky had the distinct impression he knew more about this than he was letting on and it sounded as if he’d been set up to do it. The question was by whom?

  “Who did you tell?”

  “No-one. It’s not important.” His face was frozen and his dark eyes flicked nervously from side to side. He was frightened to death.

  Vicky could see she wasn’t going to get any further with him and said, “Naturally your membership is terminated with immediate effect. If you ever dare come near either my business or Caroline Foster again I’ll contact the police. They’ll get it out of you what you and your friends have been up to. You’re despicable.”

  Driving away from Wyatt’s Distributors, Vicky was pleased with how well she’d handled Alan Jeffreys. Good job he hadn’t guessed how frightened she’d been. However she felt a dreadful sense of inadequacy. She’d have liked to have carried out her threat and told the police about him but unfortunately she’d only been bluffing. Luckily, he wasn’t to know she only wanted the police involved as a last resort. Anyway he’d committed no crime. Married men were constantly fooling girls into thinking they were single. It went on all the time, as she’d told Marcus Foster yesterday. The most she could do for the time being was to go and see Caroline to apologize. And tell Marcus what had happened.

  Alan Jeffreys had just confirmed her worst suspicions. She was now absolutely certain someone was trying to drive her out of Brookleigh. Who was it? Her chief suspect was Marcus but would he use his own sister, whom he obviously cared for deeply, to get rid of Vicky and Lovelink? What could he have against her? Okay, so he obviously didn’t approve of dating agencies but it wasn’t the type of business to incite such a campaign of hatred. It wasn’t as if he’d anything personal against her either and he wasn’t competing with her professionally. As far as she knew her business wasn’t causing him any problems.

  But if it wasn’t Marcus, who could it be? She’d not been living in Brookleigh long enough to have made any enemies and her nearest competitors were miles away. She wasn’t stealing any of their customers. That had been the very reason why she’d bought the business in Brookleigh because the nearest dating agency had been so far away that she’d thought she’d found a gap in the market.

  Vicky didn’t like to admit it but after her meeting with Alan Jeffreys she was scared. Ice cold scared.

  Chapter Three

  The feeling of apprehension still haunted Vicky when, later that evening, she drove the short distance from her cottage over to Nuneton House, home to the Foster family. It was so near she was almost certain the small piece of land her cottage stood on backed on to the estate at Nuneton. She could just glimpse the tops of the chimneys from the bottom of her garden. She smiled. Imagine her having Marcus Foster as a neighbour and being totally unaware of it.

  She was hoping her visit would serve two purposes. One, to apologise to Caroline and two, to see if her actions had satisfied M
arcus. Her nerves were jangling with just the thought of seeing him again. His manner towards her yesterday had been so cool and distant and she was frightened he would regard her actions, concerning the Alan Jeffreys incident, as being inadequate. Maybe he’d carry out his threat to seek legal advice. If he was trying to destroy her business, he’d probably stop at nothing.

  Rounding the corner, she met the entrance to Nuneton House. High, crumbling walls choking with ivy flanked a wrought-iron gate. Vicky shivered. It looks just like I’d imagine Miss Havisham’s house in Great Expectations, she thought. She drove slowly through the open gates, past the incongruous, neatly painted sign announcing it was FOSTER’S STABLES, her wheels crunching on the gravel. Huge oak trees lined her way, making it prematurely dark and shielding her view of what might lie at the end of the drive.

  However she was pleasantly surprised. As she set eyes on the house for the first time, Vicky found it breathtaking. She’d imagined something austere and Dickensian when in actual fact it was anything but. Nuneton House stood surrounded by lush green paddocks, bathed in the evening sunlight. A couple of chestnut horses nuzzled the grass. It was a magnificent home—light, bright and very welcoming.

  Even though it was early evening and the end of her working day, she was astonished to find that it was a hive of activity at Nuneton.

  Parked at the side of the house was a horsebox. Two men dressed in green quilted jackets and cream jodhpurs were leading a bay mare down the ramp towards the stabling block. The horse was a beauty—glossy and regal.

  She parked and as she climbed out of her Metro she heard the sound of another vehicle approaching. Slowly the nose of a car peeked around the bend in the drive. It was a silver grey Mercedes. THE silver grey Mercedes which had almost hit her on the bridge yesterday morning as she drove to work. Intent on giving the driver a piece of her mind, Vicky marched across to where the car was parked just a few meters from her Metro. When the car door opened she was amazed as Marcus Foster climbed out of the driver’s seat.

  “So it was you!” she said. Her face was hot with anger. “Do you realise you could have killed me?”

  Casually dressed in jeans and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck, he straightened up and crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. Momentarily, she was reminded of Jan’s glowing description of him. There was no denying he was extremely attractive and she could understand the appeal he held for the women of Brookleigh. And if she hadn’t felt so angry she might have responded to the lopsided grin that was now brightening his angular features.

  “Miss Lewis—how good to see you again. In answer to your question—no, I didn’t realise I could have killed you. How might I have done that?” He seemed to be mocking her again, the light of his smile reflected in the blue of his eyes.

  “Your lunatic driving forced me off the bridge yesterday morning.”

  “I’m sorry but it wasn’t me. Do you ever do anything except lose your temper? However bewitching it makes you look, I would like to see you laugh occasionally.” He smiled, this time more openly.

  He pushed an unruly lock of hair back off his forehead and said, almost bored. “I was at the races yesterday until late afternoon. I don’t deny it was probably my car but I wasn’t driving it. I’m not the only one who uses it. Caroline borrows it and so does my friend, Lucinda Dayton. I’m very proud of my careful driving. Maybe I could take you for a spin one evening and prove it to you.” He held her gaze, hypnotically.

  Mustering all her strength and looking back directly into his sapphire blue eyes, she said, “No thank you, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  Blushing furiously, she turned on her heel and walked back quickly towards the house, conscious of the weight of his stare on her back. Yet again, he’d made her feel at a disadvantage. He seemed to be laughing at her and she didn’t like it. Just for once she wanted to show him she was capable and in control of the situation. Why did she always feel so uncomfortable in his presence?

  She was almost at the foot of the steps leading to the front door when he reached her, catching at her arm and turning her towards him.

  “Hey, hold on a moment. Was it me you came to see?”

  Looking straight at him, she said with great satisfaction, “No, I came to see Caroline.”

  His expression changed once more and Vicky was pleased to see the mockery had fallen from his face like a curtain. She had a brief glimpse of the man he’d shown to her yesterday. Kind, possibly even caring.

  “Have you discovered anything yet, Miss Lewis?” His voice was full of concern.

  She felt her iciness thawing. “Yes, I have.”

  He sighed and glanced over to the stables.

  “Listen, would you just wait here while I go over and see how Misty Lady is after her race this afternoon? I won’t keep you.”

  She nodded and witnessed the scene as he strode purposefully over to where the two men were leading the bay, Misty Lady around and around in circles. He spoke fleetingly to the men and then rubbed his hand down the length of the mare’s leg. Suddenly it all fell into place. This is where he truly belongs, she thought. The gentleness he’d shown just a hint of yesterday, came rushing to the fore once he was with the horses he obviously loved. She watched as he pushed a hand through his dark hair. Crazily a bizarre idea flashed through her mind. What would it be like to tangle her fingers in that thick, dark hair of his? Almost as quickly as she’d thought it, the idea evaporated. This was madness. She didn’t even like him.

  Marcus stood up then, obviously satisfied with the horse’s condition. He slapped one of the men on the shoulder and she heard his rich laugh. Then he was walking once more towards her, studying her with each step he took. Was it with interest? Or was it the same look an eagle gives its prey? She shivered.

  “Now, Miss Lewis, about Alan Jeffreys. If we just take a walk through here, you can tell me what you’ve discovered. I’d like to hear it all first before we go in and say anything to Caroline. I don’t like to worry her unnecessarily.”

  His eyes were so full of genuine concern that just then Vicky couldn’t have denied him anything. She nodded.

  They circled the house and, once at the back of the building, he led her through an archway of trees and then down a flight of stone steps, guarded by two lion statues. Once clear of the house, Vicky had a magnificent view. The lawn stretched green and splendid down to meet a stream, which cut horizontally across the land like a pale, blue ribbon.

  “If you look over to the right there you can just see the roof of your cottage. The land beyond it is mine too.”

  So she was surrounded by Foster territory, she thought. Shading her eyes against the bright evening sunlight, she smiled.

  “I wondered if it was Nuneton House I could see from my garden. I hadn’t realised we were neighbours until this evening, Mr. Foster.”

  “Please, call me Marcus. You make me sound like a schoolmaster.”

  “Very well, Marcus. I’m Vicky.”

  She held out her hand and he took it, his grasp powerful. A smile flickered across his lips. For just a moment too long, his eyes held hers. Then releasing her hand, he looked away, almost sharply, saying, “And the stream there is the same one that runs under the bridge and gives the town its name. Brookleigh really starts on our land.”

  Slowly he led her towards the stream. With each step Vicky was acutely aware of him. He was so close she could smell the tang of his aftershave.

  Reaching the water’s edge he gestured for her to be seated on a wooden bench, while he stood resting his left foot on a rock.

  “Is all this land yours?” Vicky asked.

  “Yes, Nuneton House has been in the Foster family for generations. It was originally a farm but seven years ago I converted it all when I decided to train my racehorses here. The only thing I’ve ever loved about farming has been the horses. It was a real sadness to my father tha
t I didn’t show any inherent interest in farming.”

  “But you’re obviously successful, surely that made your father proud?”

  Marcus shrugged.

  “Unfortunately both my parents died before I’d achieved any real success.”

  Although he spoke in a detached manner, she witnessed pain cross his face before the mask fell back into place again.

  “Enough about me. Now Vicky, tell me what you’ve discovered about our friend, Alan Jeffreys.”

  “That you were right. He is married. I came to tell Caroline what I’d found out and…to apologise.” She lowered her gaze and said, quietly, “To you both.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate all you’ve done to give me an answer so promptly.” Then almost as an afterthought, he added, “I think I, too, owe you an apology. I may have been a bit…harsh yesterday.” It obviously wasn’t easy for him to say and she felt the stirrings of respect for this proud man. However this feeling was squashed when he uttered his next cold words. “A harshness caused by my own personal prejudice which I’m afraid I allowed to colour our first meeting.”

  “Prejudice?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I don’t believe in romantic love and I certainly don’t think it can be engineered by dating agencies.”

  Vicky bit her tongue. Did he feel so strongly over this that he might be tempted to wreck her business? Or was he just expressing a personal opinion that he was perfectly entitled to hold? It would be so easy for her to quote statistics to him of her success rate, to introduce him to some of the extremely happy couples who had met through Lovelink, to change his opinion, but instead she said nothing. Anger hadn’t got them very far yesterday. But she noted his comments and once again thought him arrogant and a little naïve.

  “Let’s just agree to disagree on this one, Marcus,” she said.

  He nodded, falling into a deep silence. Vicky was so confused by this tall, dark man who carried his pain with him like a mantle. It was a long time before he spoke again, kicking at the ground.

  “How could Jeffreys do it? It’s despicable. He’s hurt Caroline so much.” There was furious look in his blue eyes.