Ashleigh felt like rolling her eyes. The one sticking point in her relationship with Howard, apart from his deeply ingrained conservatism, was his mother. No matter how hard she tried, she just did not like Marguerite Caule.
‘I need to spend time with Lachlan,’ she said carefully, removing her hands from his hold. ‘He’s been missing me lately.’
‘Bring him with you,’ Howard suggested. ‘You know how much my mother enjoys seeing him.’
Seeing him, but not hearing him, Ashleigh added under her breath. Marguerite was definitely from the old school of child-rearing: children were to be seen not heard, and if it could possibly be avoided without direct insult, not interacted with at all.
‘Maybe some other time,’ she said, avoiding his pleading look. ‘I have a lot on my mind just now.’
She heard him sigh.
‘Is this all too much for you?’ he asked. ‘Do you want me to call Jake Marriott and pull out on the deal? I know it’s a lot of money but if you aren’t up to it then I won’t force you.’
Ashleigh turned to look at him, privately moved by his concern. He was such a lovely person, no hint of malice about him. He loved Lachlan and he loved her.
Why, oh, why, couldn’t she love him in return?
He had so much to lose on this. His business hung in the balance. It was up to her to save it. She couldn’t walk away from Jake’s deal without hurting Howard, and hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do.
Besides, it was a lot of money to throw away. How could she live with herself if she turned her back on Jake’s offer, no matter what motive had precipitated it?
‘No…’ She picked up her bag and keys resignedly. ‘I’m going to see this through. I think Jake is right.’ She gave a rough-edged sigh. ‘I need closure.’
‘Good luck.’
She gave him a rueful look as she reached for the door. ‘Luck has been in short supply in my life. I hardly see it changing any time soon.’
‘Don’t worry, Ashleigh,’ Howard reassured her. ‘He’s given you the opportunity of a lifetime. Don’t let your past relationship with him get in the way of your future with me.’
Ashleigh found it hard to think of an answer. Instead she sent him a vague smile and left the showroom, somehow sensing that her future was always going to be inextricably linked with Jake.
Even if by some miracle he never found out about Lachlan.
The house and grounds were deserted when Ashleigh arrived. Jake’s car was nowhere in sight and, although most of the blinds at the windows hadn’t been pulled completely down, the house still gave off a deserted, abandoned look.
She walked up the cracked pathway to the front door, feeling as if she was stepping over an invisible barrier into the privacy of Jake’s past.
She rang the doorbell just in case, but there was no answer. She listened as the bell echoed down the hall like an aching cry of loneliness, the sound bouncing off the walls and coming back to her as if to taunt her. She put the key into the lock and turned it, the door opening under her hand with a groan of protest.
At least it didn’t smell as musty as before.
The movement of air in the hall indicated that Jake had left a window open and she couldn’t help a soft sigh of remembrance. Hadn’t he always insisted on sleeping with at least one window open, even when it had been freezing cold outside?
She wandered from room to room, taking a host of pictures with a digital camera, stopping occasionally to carefully document notes on the various pieces, her fingers flying over the notebook in her hand as she detailed the estimated date and value of each item.
As treasure troves went, this was one of the biggest she’d ever encountered. Priceless piece after priceless piece was noted on her list, her estimation growing by the minute. Howard’s business would be lifted out of trouble once these babies hit the showroom floor.
She lifted the hair out of the back of her top and rolled her stiff shoulders as she finished the first room. She glanced at her watch and saw it was now well after twelve. Two hours had gone past and still no sign of Jake.
Deciding to take a break, she left her notebook and pen on a side table and wandered through to the kitchen at the back of the house.
It wasn’t the sort of kitchen in which she felt comfortable. It was dark and old-fashioned, the appliances so out of date she wondered if they were still operational.
She picked up a lonesome cup that someone, she presumed Jake’s father, had left on the kitchen sink. It was heavily stained with the tannin of tea, the chipped edge seeming out of place in a house so full of wealth. She ran her fingertip over the rough edge thoughtfully, wondering what sort of man Jake’s father had been.