Sweet Surrender (The Dysarts) (11 page)

Kate sighed. ‘No, it doesn't. But if he contacts you tell him to come if he wants.' She smiled at him. ‘And please tell Gabriel I'm looking forward to seeing her. And the baby. And thank you for the tapes. They're a godsend.'

‘Knew they would be,' said Adam smugly, and went home to his wife.

By the time Alasdair came to see her, bearing a basket of fruit and an armful of magazines, Kate had taken a lot more nourishment and rest, her headache was less
intense, and he told her she was looking a lot better than when he'd seen her last.

‘I could hardly look worse,' she said ruefully.

‘Which doesn't stop me from wanting to get in there with you,' he informed her, after a kiss a shade too prolonged for the patient's pulse-rate.

‘But I've seen myself in a mirror,' she said breathlessly, ‘I could haunt a house.'

Alasdair grasped her hand tightly. ‘Don't mention haunting. I never want to live through a night like that again.'

‘But isn't that when we got engaged?' she asked artlessly.

His eyes flickered. ‘That was earlier. You don't remember that part of the evening?'

‘I don't remember anything much. Run it past me again.'

‘You came to my house for tea, chose paint colours for the makeover I'm planning, then after dinner I took you to bed and made love to you,' he informed her, his eyes steady on hers. ‘I did my best to make you stay the night, but you insisted on going home because you had to return to Foychurch and your job next day.'

‘Bad move on my part,' said Kate ruefully.

‘Very. Another time I'll command obedience.' His confident smile was so familiar she returned it involuntarily.

She knew that smile of old, she was sure. Yet she had a feeling that Alasdair was keeping something from her.

‘By the way,' she said, ‘Adam told me that my mysterious stranger, Jack Spencer, bought quite a lot at the auction today. He wants to visit me again.'

‘No way,' snapped Alasdair. ‘You hardly know the man.'

‘It's something to do with his niece, Abby.'

‘Not for the first time!'

‘What do you mean?'

‘That's how you met the man in the first place. You took the child home with you after school for a few hours until Spencer could collect her. Which doesn't give him the right to barge his way in here, pretending to be engaged to you.' Alasdair jumped up, apparently unable to sit still any longer, and Kate looked at him in surprise.

‘Hey! Calm down. I want to know about your first day as head honcho.'

He turned back to her with a wry smile. ‘Thought you'd never ask.'

After a full account of his first day as Operations Director at the UK arm of the global pharmaceutical giant, Alasdair looked down at her ruefully. ‘I'm wearing you out.'

‘No, you're not. I love hearing about it—'

‘But you get tired easily, and I'm forgetting that.' he bent to kiss her cheek. ‘I'd better go. But I'll be back tomorrow.'

‘Thank you for the fruit.' She smiled at him. ‘Such extravagance!'

‘Not if you eat it all.' He frowned. ‘I hope you are eating?'

'Yes, sir—of course, sir,' she said pertly, and Alasdair grinned and bent to kiss her mouth.

‘Get well soon,' he said against her parted lips.

‘I'm doing my best.'

‘I don't doubt it,' he said huskily. ‘Goodnight, darling.'

 

The following afternoon Kate received a visit from her mother, in company with an attractive young blonde
woman who was easily identified as Gabriel, since she was carrying a baby.

‘I came too, so I can whisk him out if he roars,' said Frances.

Gabriel eyed Kate's face with awe. ‘Wow, Kate, what does the other fellow look like?'

‘Actually, I'm improving,' said Kate dryly. ‘You should have seen me a couple of days ago. Will I frighten the baby if I hold him?'

‘Try it and see,' said Gabriel promptly, and handed her son over.

The baby lay quietly, looking up at Kate's bandaged head with such apparent interest the others chuckled.

‘He's fascinated,' said Frances fondly.

‘It comes off tomorrow. Perhaps he won't fancy me then.' Kate was gazing down at the baby so raptly she failed to notice the worried look exchanged by her two visitors.

‘Does that mean you can come home afterwards?' asked Gabriel.

‘I hope so.' Kate looked up with a smile. ‘Everyone's marvellous to me here, but it's still a hospital. Some home cooking would be good. My appetite's coming back.'

‘Wonderful,' said her mother thankfully. ‘I'll go back home today, then, and get things ready. But I'm very grateful to your parents, Gabriel,' she added. ‘They've been so kind.'

‘Mother was only too pleased to help. She'd like to see you, too, Kate, when you're up to it.'

‘Any time she likes, Gabriel—only tell her she'll have to introduce herself!'

Michelle popped her head round the door. ‘There's a
gentleman here, Kate. Says he's a friend. A Mr Jack Spencer. He's got a little girl with him who's very anxious to see you, apparently. What shall I say?'

‘You'd better tell him to bring the little girl in—say five minutes or so,' said Kate, surrendering her nephew to his mother.

‘Don't let them stay long, darling,' said Frances. ‘We'll be off now, but Dad will be in tonight, and probably Adam, too. So if there's nothing you need, I'll say goodbye until tomorrow.'

After they'd gone Michelle tidied the bed and gave Kate a drink. ‘Ready for your next visitors? But they mustn't stay long, or Sister will have my head.'

‘She could have mine with pleasure,' retorted Kate, and Michelle chuckled.

‘You are getting better. Right, then. Lie still for a moment or two.'

She returned shortly afterwards to usher in the stranger Kate had already met. But this time he had a little fair-haired girl by the hand.

‘Five minutes,' warned Nurse Dunn in official tones, and closed the door behind her.

‘Hello, Kate,' said Jack Spencer, smiling. ‘Abby wouldn't rest until she saw you herself, so I took her out of school for the afternoon and brought her along. Sister's permission to visit today, but I admit I resorted to false pretences the first time.'

‘And confused me not a little,' said Kate with a smile, then turned to the child, who was regarding her with utter dismay. ‘Hello, Abby. Don't be afraid. It's only bruises. I hurt my face in a car accident.'

The child swallowed hard, then, after prompting from her uncle, handed over an enormous get well card. ‘From
everyone in the class, Miss Dysart,' she said, in a wobbly little voice.

‘How lovely!' Kate took out the card, her throat thickening as she saw the kisses and little drawings alongside a list of carefully written signatures.

‘Abby was sure you'd been killed and we were keeping it from her,' said Jack, ‘so I thought I'd show her you were very much alive, if not kicking. Now she can report back to her mates and tell them you'll soon be back with them.'

‘Will you really, Miss Dysart?' said Abby, hope gleaming behind her glasses.

‘Absolutely,' said Kate. ‘But I need to get better first. Which may take a while. But as soon as I can I'll be back in Foychurch.'

‘So tell your gang,' Jack Spencer instructed his niece, ‘that they must work hard to show how well Miss Dysart's been teaching them. You included.'

‘I will,' said Abby fervently, and, when her uncle nudged her, handed Kate a small package. ‘This is from Mummy and Daddy.'

‘Partly as a get well present,' said Jack Spencer, ‘And partly for being so kind to Abby when the baby was born.'

Kate felt sudden panic. ‘I'm afraid I don't remember—'

‘Miss Dysart had a bad knock on her head, Abby,' he told his niece quickly. ‘So she can't remember anything.'

‘You took me home with you until Uncle Jack collected me,' said Abby.

‘I'm glad I could help,' said Kate, feeling suddenly sick and hot as her head started to throb. The throbbing grew worse when she opened a jeweller's box to find a
brooch with coloured jewels set like a delicate spray of flowers. ‘How—how lovely,' she said faintly.

‘Julia is very grateful to you. She would like you to have this as a token of appreciation,' said Jack, eyeing her uneasily. ‘We'd better be off, Kate. Get well soon.'

A
FTER
Jack Spencer's visit Kate's escape from hospital was delayed by a respiratory infection which sent her temperature soaring.

‘You've been prescribed a course of antibiotics,' said Sister. ‘And,' she added firmly, ‘not so many visitors, please, Kate. I shall inform your parents.'

Things grew hazy for Kate for a while after that. She was vaguely aware of being given medication and a drink and told to sleep, but the sleep was disturbed. Sometimes by her cough, at others by dreams—one of them so erotic she woke with a start, staring round her wildly, until her pulse subsided and she came to terms with the fact that she was in a hospital bed and not Alasdair's.

Alasdair! Her dream had been so vivid she could still feel the heat of his naked body against hers, his face buried in her hair as he brought her to such a state of frenzy she knew without doubt it had to be a memory instead of just a dream. But when her pulse slowed Kate's embarrassment gave way to triumph. Her memory must be coming back. At the thought her body relaxed, and this time when she fell asleep there were no dreams.

She woke fully at last to find her mother sitting beside the bed, her face pale and drawn as she held Kate's hand.

‘Hello, darling,' she said thankfully. ‘How do you feel?'

‘Not wonderful. But better than last night.'

‘I hope so, my darling,' said Frances gently. ‘You were a little delirious for a while. But Sister told me your temperature's down today, and you should come on rapidly now.'

‘Alasdair?' said Kate involuntarily.

‘He came last night, but he was only allowed to see you for a minute. He's desperately worried, so I'll ring him and tell him you're back with us again.' Frances smiled. ‘Are you up to seeing him tonight?'

‘Of course I am.' Kate grasped her mother's hand tightly and smiled in reassurance. ‘I feel much better. The pills must be working. How's Dad?'

‘He's just having a word with Mr Murchison, darling. You know how your father is.'

‘Likes every last detail, preferably from the man in charge,' agreed Kate, and smiled jubilantly. ‘You see? My memory's on its way back!'

When Tom Dysart came in he beamed to see his daughter awake. ‘That's better, sweetheart.'

After her parents had gone Kate decided to try a visit to the bathroom on her own, very pleased with herself when she managed it without mishap. She was even able to bear a look at herself in the mirror, pleased to find the puffiness had gone from her face and the bruises were fading. The turban-style dressing on her head was a bit of a turn-off, but on the whole, Kate decided, she looked a lot more like herself than the apparition she'd last confronted in the glass. When she was on her way back to the bed, as shaky on her legs as a newborn foal, the nurse came in and started scolding, telling her she should have rung the bell.

‘Don't you get too cocky now, Kate,' warned Michelle. ‘But since you are out of bed you may as well sit on that chair for a minute while I change your bed.'

‘I'd like a bath,' said Kate firmly.

‘Don't worry, I'll have you all fresh and lovely by the time your fiancé comes.'

‘Fresh maybe,' said Kate, pulling a face. ‘Otherwise I still won't win any beauty contests. Not,' she added honestly, ‘that I would normally. But I promise I can look better than this.'

Newly bathed, sitting up in a freshly changed bed, wearing a clean nightgown and fragrant with her own perfume instead of antiseptic, Kate enjoyed her light supper. She was told afterwards that her brother had rung to ask after her and say he was away treasure-hunting but would be in tomorrow.

‘A bit of a charmer, your brother,' said Michelle, reporting.

‘He is. But spoken for, I'm afraid.'

‘Always the way,' sighed the nurse, and handed over pills to swallow. ‘Right. I'm off soon. Is there anything you need before I go?'

‘No. I'll just lie here and concentrate on getting better.'

Kate lay utterly relaxed when she was alone. Because her parents had looked so tired and strained she had forbidden them to come back again a second time. So now all she had to do was wait for Alasdair.

Her wait was short. Barely ten minutes had passed before the night nurse popped her head round the door.

‘If you're expecting someone tall, dark and gorgeous,' Debs whispered, ‘he's here, champing at the bit. Do go in, sir,' she added aloud, in her best hospital manner. ‘But not too long, please.'

Alasdair came in swiftly, his eyes dark-ringed in his haggard face.

‘Darling,' he said huskily, and bent to kiss her cheek,
but Kate deliberately turned her mouth up, and with a stifled sound he covered her lips with his.

‘You could give me a careful hug, too,' she told him, when he raised his head, and with an unsteady laugh he put his arms around her, but so gingerly she giggled. ‘I won't break.'

‘When you look as though you won't break in half I'll do better,' he promised. He released her carefully, sat down on the chair pulled up to the bed and took her hand. ‘I came last night, but you were out of it so they wouldn't let me stay. You frightened the wits out of me. Again.'

‘Sorry about that.' Kate's fingers tightened on his, and his eyes lit with a warmth which brought back her dream so vividly her breath caught.

‘You remember me properly now, don't you?' he said triumphantly.

‘Yes, I do. I'm beginning to remember a lot of things.'

‘Among them the evening we spent before you insisted on driving off into the rain?'

Kate nodded. ‘I thought the lovemaking part was a dream, but—'

‘But what?'

‘It was so real I knew it couldn't be.'

Alasdair kissed her hand, then turned it over and pressed his lips into her palm. ‘The moment you're well enough I'll show you it was no dream, but a wonderful, mind-blowing reality, I promise.'

She smiled into his eyes. ‘You'll send my temperature up again.'

To her surprise Alasdair's face hardened. ‘It was Jack Spencer who did that.'

Kate frowned. ‘How could he possibly be responsible
for a cough and a chest infection? It was just coincidence that it started after he brought his niece here.'

‘All I know, Katharine Dysart, is that the man spells trouble,' said Alasdair grimly. ‘I suppose he brought the entire contents of the local florist?'

‘No, he didn't. Abby, his niece, brought that huge card over there, from my class. But Jack brought a present from Abby's parents. I can't remember what I did to deserve it, though.'

‘You looked after the child at your place for a few hours,' said Alasdair shortly.

‘That's what Abby said. No big deal, certainly,' said Kate, frowning. ‘Would you get something from my locker, please? There's a small box in the drawer.'

Alasdair fetched it for her. ‘Is this the present?'

Kate nodded. ‘It's costume jewellery, but much too expensive for doing so little.' She took out the small, delicate brooch, and held the coloured stones up to the light. ‘Pretty, isn't it?'

Alasdair stared at it malevolently. ‘Costume jewellery?' he repeated, a note in his voice which brought Kate's head up in surprise. ‘You obviously don't possess the Dysart eye, Kate. This is the Cartier piece Adam mentioned. He said Spencer fancied the thing. It was expected to fetch three thousand at auction.'

Kate dropped the brooch like a hot cake. ‘You're not serious!'

‘I am.' Alasdair rescued the brooch and thrust it back into its box. ‘Whoever it's supposed to be from, I'd bet my last penny it was Spencer who paid for it.' He glared at her. ‘Send it back.'

Kate bristled. ‘Don't you dare order me about, Alasdair Drummond. I'm not eighteen any more.'

‘Ah,' he said with satisfaction. ‘So you remember back that far, then.'

‘Not exactly. But I know we go back a long way.'

‘Long enough for me to object to expensive gifts showered on you by other men,' he assured her tightly.

Kate thought of something. ‘Do you know what Jack Spencer does for a living?'

‘You told me he's some sort of builder—one with expensive tastes, obviously.' Alasdair sat down. ‘If you'll give the brooch to me
I'll
send it back.'

‘Are you always this dictatorial?' she demanded.

‘Only where my woman is concerned,' he retorted.

‘Your woman,' she repeated, eyeing him askance. ‘Sounds a bit basic.'

He smiled crookedly. ‘Where you're concerned, I feel basic. You belong to me, Kate, and don't forget it.' His smile deepened. ‘Now, tell me about this dream.'

Kate shifted restlessly. ‘We were making love. You were running your hands through my hair—'

‘That figures. That wonderful hair of yours does amazing things to my libido, darling.' He leaned over and kissed her gently, then with increased heat when her lips opened to him. When he raised his head she smiled up at him radiantly.

‘You're very good for me, Alasdair Drummond.'

‘How?'

‘I've seen myself in the mirror, remember? It's amazing you should want to come near me, let alone kiss me.'

His eyes blazed with sudden anger. ‘I love
you
, Katharine Dysart. Bruised, battered, or all in one small, ravishing piece, it makes no difference. Remember that.'

‘I will,' she whispered, her eyes brilliant.

‘If you look at me like that I'll come in there and join you,' he growled.

‘Promises, promises!'

He laughed. ‘So when are you likely to get out of here?'

‘Tomorrow this contraption comes off my head and I finish my pills, and if I'm very, very good I go home the day after, according to Sister.' Kate smiled at him. ‘So depend on it—I'll be very good indeed.'

 

Next morning Kate woke with the feeling that something momentous was in store for her. Removal of the dressing, and maybe a shampoo to follow, she thought happily, and smiled as the nurse came in with her cup of tea.

‘Morning, Debs. How are you?'

‘I'm fine. And so are you, by the sound of it. These are the last of your pills, so down with them. Tomorrow you could be going home.'

‘Which is why I'm chirpy!'

Kate ate breakfast, bade Debs goodbye until evening, and sat waiting in a state of great anticipation until Sister arrived, followed by Michelle with a dressing tray.

‘Good morning, Kate,' said Sister cheerfully. ‘Time to say goodbye to your stitches.'

Kate sat very still while the turban and the dressings underneath were removed. And registered something wrong. Horribly wrong.

‘Your main problem was the blow to your forehead,' Sister informed her. ‘It caused the bruising and swelling to your face, and contributed to the blood loss, but by some miracle your nose remained intact. There was another deep cut, high up on the back of your neck, probably due to broken glass, and I'm afraid your hair was
so matted with blood and glass splinters it had to be sheared off to get at the wound.'

Kate sat in silence, not even registering physical pain as stitches were removed. She felt totally numb. Her hair had been her one great vanity, with never more than an inch at a time trimmed from it since she was a child.

When the session was over, Kate felt oddly light about the head. ‘I'd like to go to the bathroom please,' she said politely.

‘Wait for her, Nurse,' said Sister, then gave Kate an encouraging smile. ‘Don't worry. You'll soon be back to normal.'

‘Thank you, Sister.'

Alone behind the closed bathroom door, Kate leaned against it for a moment. Taking her courage in both hands, she went to the sink, stared down into it for a moment, then faced herself in the mirror. After one horrified look she felt the room swim round her, and she backed away to sit on the edge of the bath, her sore, shorn head in her hands. Stop it, she ordered herself fiercely. Otherwise they'll put you back to bed and keep you there until you can look at yourself without passing out. But all she could think about was Alasdair. Alasdair who found her hair so irresistible.

The dream came back in full force. Only this time it was recall, pure and simple. Shaking inside, she found she could remember their day together in every detail. Choosing colours for his walls. Eating dinner. Going to bed. Making wonderful, magical love together. A good thing she remembered it so well, she thought bitterly. Now she lacked the flowing hair which made Alasdair so hot for her he was unlikely to want a repeat performance.

Straightening, she stood at the basin again and ex
amined her face, which was much improved. There was a light dressing on the scar on her forehead, and the bruises were fading rapidly. But the emergency haircut had left her looking like Peter Pan on a bad hair day.

‘Kate?' Michelle tapped on the door. ‘Are you all right?'

Kate opened the door, doing her best to smile. ‘Not really.'

‘What's wrong?'

‘My hair. Or sudden lack of it.'

‘It was long before the accident?' said the girl with sympathy.

‘Silly at my age, I suppose, but, yes, it was.' Kate's mouth twisted. ‘My one great vanity.'

‘Hair soon grows. And they managed to treat your wounds without shaving it off, at least! The minute you're better you can have it trimmed professionally and you'll look great.'

 

Kate spent the day sitting in a chair, half hidden by the curtain at the window. At first her instinct had been to dive into bed and hide there. Instead she spent long hours staring, unseeing, at the rooftops of Pennington while she grappled with total recall of the past, and then went on to some hard thinking about the future.

After the lunch Kate didn't want she decided it was time to get dressed properly.