A Question of Love (2 page)

`
Cat got your tongue, Miss Fairfax?’

`
Not that I’m aware of, Mr Kennedy,’ Roseanne retorted. She was tempted to stick it out at him but she knew that would be childish and spoil her image of the efficient and dignified PA she was determined to present to him. `Is there anything else you want to know?’

`
It appears a consignment of prime meat has not been entered in the delivery records.’ His expression was bland.

`
A consignment not recorded? Are you sure? Mary is meticulous in keeping a record of all deliveries.’

`
Maybe she is.` His mouth twitched and Roseanne stared at it, noticing the firm, well-shaped lips and the white even teeth as he favoured her with a wolfish smile. `Nevertheless the acquisition of prime meat, was mentioned – or was it rump?’ The twitching at the corners of his mouth increased and Roseanne couldn’t drag her fascinated gaze away. `Well hung? Ready for roasting?’ he prompted. Her eyes widened in dismay.

`
Oh no!’ she gasped as understanding dawned and she recalled her facetious description of him in her email to her sister. Somehow he had managed to read it. It was an unwritten law amongst the office staff that there should be no private emails or use of mobile phones during work. Ever since she had become a permanent part of Kershaw & Company she had set an example and the girls respected her for it. Now Euan Kennedy, of all people, had caught her out.

`
My email to Rob was personal,’ she said indignantly, but colour burned in her cheeks. She couldn’t deny she had used her work computer for a personal email to Robinia. She tried to recall what she had said. There was only ten months between them in age so they had always been close. As children they even had a language of their own - slang, bordering on rude, their mother called it, a disgrace to the beautiful flowery names she had bestowed upon them. It was true not everyone appreciated their humour, or forgave some of their more outrageous pranks. They were alike in appearance but their interests were almost entirely opposite, except perhaps for books and music.

Robinia
was a born flirt with her dancing eyes and infectious smile. Sometimes Roseanne wished she could be more like that herself but as the elder sister she had always been more serious, absorbing knowledge like a sponge, enjoying a challenge. She prided herself on her organisation and self-control. That was the reason Rob had trusted her to buy the flat and arrange the move. How long Robinia would stay in one place after so much globe-trotting as a well-known model was debateable. Roseanne was not concerned about that. She liked to have her own space. It was one of the reasons she spent most weekends down at the farm near the Scottish Border. She had always felt she could be a free spirit at Ashburn, releasing her mane of red gold hair and shedding her inhibitions.

She blinked, aware that Euan Kennedy was watching the emotions chasing each other across her expressive face.

`Nobody could read other people's emails before,’ she protested. `Even if he could have read them Mr Kershaw would never have done so. I doubt if he’d be concerned about this one anyway.’

`
No? Obviously he is almost a stranger to me as we had not met since I was five years old, but from what I've heard of his strict morals I don’t believe he would approve of you moving in with your boyfriend the minute he’s out of the country for three months.’ Even to himself Euan knew he sounded like a lecturing old woman and that was not a part of the email he had intended quoting.

`
Boyfr…?’ Roseanne almost choked and her eyes widened. She lowered her lashes but not before Euan glimpsed the gold flecks dancing in their green depths. Was she laughing at him? He eyed her keenly, suspicious of her suddenly demure expression. Was she biting her full lower lip to prevent a smile? he wondered indignantly. Roseanne hoped he couldn’t read her mind. When Rob returned they would certainly play a few tricks and enjoy shaking his air of superiority. They had often swapped identities when they were younger. Rob was an expert at winding men around her little finger only to leave them confused when their next encounter was with herself, so much more cool and reserved.

`The email
was on your work computer,’ Euan reminded her. `I understood from Uncle Simon that you were perfection personified, Miss Fairfax. Perhaps it’s a case of when the cat’s away?’

`
No it is not! Damn you.’

`
Tut-tut. “Miss Fairfax is always calm in a crisis, she never loses control,” or so Uncle Simon informed me. “She never panics or forgets an instruction.” I guessed Uncle Simon’s description was too good to be true.’ He rose to his feet and came round the desk. She was five feet seven but he was taller. He looked down at her. Roseanne was tempted to swipe the smile from his face. Her green eyes sparked with temper. Euan Kennedy nodded with satisfaction. Miss Efficiency did have hidden depths – how could she not with that abundant flame coloured hair, even if it was pleated in an elegant coil on top of her neat little head. He looked forward to seeing it in wild disarray and discovering the passion behind that cool façade. Pity he only had four weeks before the return of Rob, the worthy boyfriend. He went into action.

`
Uncle Simon said you would fill me in on everything, including telling me about the farm and the rare breeds of animals he keeps. We’ll go down to Ashburn tomorrow morning. We’ll have lunch on the way. Don’t forget to bring your wellingtons and a change of clothes.’

`
I can’t do that! Besides…’ Her voice trailed away. She spent almost every weekend at the farm, except when Robinia paid a fleeting visit to Scotland. Although she enjoyed her job and the challenges that Kershaw & Company presented, she was a country girl at heart, while Rob regarded any time at the farm as rusticating.

`
Besides?’ Euan Kennedy prompted, his grey eyes scrutinising her face. What a determined chin she had – and what a kissable mouth.

`
I do spend weekends down there but I told Mrs Lennox, the housekeeper, I wouldn’t be down for the next two weeks so she has gone to visit her sister in Wales. She has taken the opportunity while Mr Kershaw is away.’

`
But you have a key?’

`
Yes,’ she flushed, `but…’

`
But nothing.’

`
It’s Friday tomorrow,’ she snapped.

`
So?’

`
It is one of the busiest days of the month.’

`
This place can tick over while you play hooky for once.’

`
I never play hooky!’ Roseanne straightened her slim shoulders even more. Euan’s temperature increased as he watched the white silk of her blouse tighten, emphasising the attractive curve of her breasts beneath.

`
Okay, so one day without you will be fine.’ She opened her mouth to protest but Euan Kennedy was used to being in command, how else could he have built up his business. `That’s an order.’ He watched her eyes narrow and heard her indrawn breath. The tension between them was almost tangible. `Look,’ he said pacifically, ‘While my uncle is away I am in charge. If anything goes wrong I shall take full responsibility.’ He had intended to sound reassuring but Roseanne’s eyes glittered like green emeralds, and just as hard. She had always been in charge any time Simon Kershaw had been away and he had never even hinted that things would be any different this time. He hadn’t even known his long lost nephew would be coming to Scotland until he himself was ready to leave.

`
When did you decide to come to Scotland, Mr Kennedy?’

`
I decided to stop off here when my uncle informed me he was planning to visit my mother in Australia. I am grateful to him for taking so much time with her when she has been ill. I hope to repay him a little by keeping a close eye on the running of his company during his absence. Also he mentioned modernising some of the processing plant. This will be a splendid opportunity to make an assessment.’

`
But you didn’t have time to discuss any details at the airport?’

`
No…’ Euan frowned as he met her steady green gaze. Her measured tones reminded him of being called before the headmaster at school. `I can’t see any reason why I should explain myself to you Miss Fairfax, but during the brief time we spent together at the airport my uncle did ask me to humour you.’

Humour
me! Roseanne was furious. He talks as though I'm a spoiled brat. She was sure Simon Kershaw would not have used such a demeaning phrase, as though she was a wayward child.

`
I gathered your meeting had lasted about forty minutes when your Uncle telephoned to warn me of your arrival,’ she said in a steely tone. `So, he had no time to explain to you the way we run things here? Or the –er... various arrangements?’

`He knows
I am used to running my own business.’

`A business which is very different from a meat processing factory, yet
you have assumed authority without knowing the first thing about our policy here.’ Inwardly Roseanne was seething at Euan Kennedy's arrogance, but she wished she was not so aware of his male attractions. Such things had never affected her before. She was unaware that to Euan Kennedy she looked as cool as any ice maiden he had ever visualised.

`
Since I am Simon Kershaw's only relative I consider it my duty to take charge and look after his interests, especially considering my mother is the reason for his absence.’

`
And you think you can do that knowing nothing about the business?’ Roseanne asked with a deceptive sweetness which would have sent warning signals to anyone who knew her. Euan Kennedy saw only a very attractive woman and he had never had any difficulty winning over any before. He gave her one of his charming smiles.

`
I’m sure the processing of meat products is pretty basic. I have installed machines far more complicated than Kershaw’s is likely to need. We had a brief discussion about more automation.’ Oh yes, thought Roseanne, and I’ve had several discussions, without success, but the man in front of her was going on smoothly, `I believe I have persuaded him that most of the processing can be done by computerised robotic machines.’

`
Computers are your line of work I believe?’

`
Yes, they are,’ he said with a slight smile. He had fallen into the world of technology by accident rather than by choice but he had been lucky and his company was worth a considerable fortune now. He had not intended to sound patronising but Roseanne interpreted his smile as smug and her temper flared.

`
In that case, Mr Kennedy, you stick to your business with computers and I shall stick to mine - taking charge of Kershaw and Company.’

`
You can’t do that, Miss Fairfax!’

`
You think not? I am always in charge in Mr Kershaw’s absence. I shall remain so until I hear from him directly telling me he has passed all responsibility for the firm over to you. If that happens you can be sure I shall be moving to pastures new immediately.’ And taking my forty five per cent share in the company with me, she vowed silently as she turned and left his office.

`
Well!’ Euan flopped into his chair and pushed his fingers through his thick brown hair. `Don’t upset her,’ his uncle had ordered. `Whatever you do, don’t get on the wrong side of Roseanne.’ And at their first real encounter they had crossed enough swords to make sparks fly. He had never had a problem getting his own way with people, especially women, even when he was a boy. His mother had always said he had inherited his father’s dancing blue-grey eyes and beguiling smile, which even old ladies found irresistible, but she was not without a certain innocent charm herself when it came to getting her way. The aloof Miss Fairfax certainly presented a challenge though, and he was fairly sure she had the passion and the temper to go with her vibrant hair. He loved the colour of it, and the thick tresses which crowned her head like a halo. He longed to draw his fingers through it and feel its silken length. He was not about to be thwarted without his best efforts to win her over.

Two

Roseanne
had summoned all her self-control during her confrontation with Euan Kennedy but her legs felt weak by the time she reached her own desk and she sighed with relief when she saw him pick up his car keys, check his personal mobile, then stride out of the office. Roseanne watched through the window and saw him driving away in the red sports car which he had ordered to be delivered to the airport in readiness for his arrival. It must be nice to have such confidence and the money to go with it, she thought. She needed time to regain her composure before she saw him again, especially if they were to have another dispute. She had no doubt there would be another, and maybe several, before Mr Kershaw returned. Her mouth firmed. She had no intention of allowing Euan Kennedy to browbeat her, but it would have been easier if he had been older and less attractive.

Euan
glanced at his wrist watch. It would be about nine o’clock in the evening in Australia. He dialled his mother’s number.

`
We weren’t expecting to hear from you so soon, Euan.’

`
Has Uncle Simon arrived all right?’

`Of course.
He's still quite tired with travelling though. Do you need to speak to him?’

`
No. I’d like you to do me a favour.’

`
A favour? Whatever can that be?’ Euan rarely asked for help, or anything else. At fifteen he had grown up overnight when news reached them that his father had drowned in a boating accident. He was fiercely independent. ‘What can I do for you, dear?’

`
I want you to send an email to Uncle Simon’s PA. It would be better if she believes the instruction is direct from her boss, rather than an order from me.’

`
An order, Euan? Don’t you mean a request?’

`
Well, yes, I suppose so.’ he agreed shamefacedly. He was used to giving directions to his own staff and they rarely questioned them, but he was still smarting from his recent confrontation. Roseanne was a pretty name, he reflected. ’We’ve rather got off on the wrong foot,’ he admitted reluctantly.

`
I see.’

`I
don’t suppose you do. I can't decide whether she’s super conscientious or plain stubborn.’

`
Or simply not complying with your wishes, eh?’ Euan could visualise the gleeful gleam in his mother's blue eyes.

`
All I want is for her to take Friday off and accompany me down to Uncle Simon's farm but she seems to regard visits to Ashburn as a pleasure which she reserves only for weekends and holidays. The trouble is she is tied up for the next two weekends.’

`Coul
dn’t you find the way yourself?’

`Of course I could, but I’d like her to accompany me tomorrow so that I can get he
r away from the blasted offices.’

`
I see…’ Aileen Kennedy pondered, wondering whether Euan was manipulating Simon’s PA for his own convenience.

`
I’ll dictate what I want you to say if you have a pencil handy?’

`
All right. What’s the woman’s name? Is she elderly?’

`
Her name is Miss Roseanne Fairfax.’ He frowned. `I’m not sure whether Uncle Simon would address her as Miss Fairfax or as Roseanne. They seem to get on very well. He told me he couldn’t manage without her.’

`
Roseanne Fairfax? I didn’t realise she was old enough to be finished at university. Though of course she must be when I think about it. I suppose she’ll be in her mid-twenties now. You say she has joined the firm on a permanent basis? She used to do holiday jobs at the factory to earn money when she was a student. I believe she was always a hard worker. Simon has known her since she was a child.’

`
I suppose that accounts for it then.’

`Accounts for what?’

`He can’t see any wrong in her. You’d think she was his own daughter, or something.’

`Y
es, he was very fond of her when Roseanne and her sister were children. Her grandfather’s farm neighboured Ashburn, the farm your Uncle Simon bought. They became very good friends in spite of being from different generations, especially after Mr and Mrs Fairfax lost their own son. He died of cancer. He was an accountant; only in his forties. His two wee girls spent most of their holidays with their grandparents. Roseanne loved the animals and the countryside, I remember Simon telling me. Their mother owns a boutique. Julian Fairfax was her accountant. That’s how they met I think. She employed a manageress after she had the children but they were still very young when her husband died and she went back to running the business herself. She would need to make a living of course. I believe she has made quite a success. I know she owns at least two boutiques and maybe more. Simon used to say she reminded him of a fairy on a Christmas tree – fluff and fripperies on the outside but a firm grip underneath. A woman to command respect, he said.’

`
There’s nothing fluffy about her daughter,’ he said grimly.

`
Maybe she takes after her grandfather. I believe he was a shrewd business man. Simon always said he called a spade a spade but people respected him for it and often sought his opinion. I know he helped Simon a great deal when he first went to Ashburn.’ She gave a soft laugh. `He knew nothing about farming. Mr Fairfax taught him whatever he has learned, but he never made much money until Mr Fairfax encouraged him to diversify into meat processing. The old man had enough faith in him to lend him the money to get started. That side of his business seems to have flourished better than either of them anticipated, especially during recent years from what Simon tells me.’

`
You never told me all this before.’

`
I didn’t know you were interested in your relations, or your roots.’

`
I’ve never felt I had any roots.’

`
No.’ His mother sighed. `You were so young when you went away to boarding school; then there was university. Since then you’ve always been on the move because of your work.’

`
Where are your roots, Mother?’

`
I came out here as a young wife but after your father died I think I might have returned to Scotland if you hadn’t been settled at school and at a crucial period in your education.’ She sighed again. `Simon and I are already doing so much reminiscing it’s making me feel homesick for Scotland.’

`
Then why don’t you come back with Uncle Simon?’

`
I'll think about it.’

`
At least come for a holiday and see how you feel. His apartment is spacious. You'd like it. There’s an unfurnished flat as well. I suspect he planned that for Miss Fairfax but she lives off the premises so I expect he’d let you use it.’

`
We'll see. Now about this email?’

Euan
dictated the email, wondering how his uncle would phrase it. His mother had given him plenty to think about.

`
You can look at the machinery but don’t go worrying the staff,’ his uncle had warned. `They’re all good workers. We use best quality products and we’ve built up a reputation for dependability. We could sell all we produce to two of the top London stores but I dinnae intend putting all our eggs in one basket. I began selling through the local shops and we’ll continue to supply them. We get a bit less per unit but it costs less in transport, and they pay quicker. Roseanne agrees it’s the bottom line which counts. I appreciate the loyalty o’ ma customers as well as ma workers. Don’t forget that, young Euan.’ He had smiled at his uncle, feeling three years old instead of thirty.

When
Euan returned to the meat factory he didn't go near the offices. He donned the regulatory white coat and hat and white wellingtons and spent the rest of the day going round the processing plants. His mind buzzed with improvements if his uncle could be persuaded to install automated machines. He spoke to the workers. They all seemed cheerful and happy. He wondered whether Roseanne had received the email yet and whether she would suspect his manipulation. Maybe it would be wise to wait until morning before facing her. He was living in his uncle’s apartment on the top floor above the offices so he decided to go straight up there when he finished looking round the processing plants. He felt unusually restless.

He
was surprised to discover a garden and a small area of woodland right at the back of the factory premises where the grounds adjoined the low hills to the west of the town. An elderly man was weeding one of the rose beds and he learned that his uncle had created the garden for the benefit of the staff.

`
Some o’ them enjoy a walk, or wee seat in the sunshine, during their lunch break, ye ken,’ the elderly gardener informed him.

`
Yes, I can understand that,’ Euan responded. `You keep it well.’

`
Thank ye, young sir, but it’s the garden that keeps me going. Mr Kershaw thought it might after I lost my Annie. He has a wise head an’ a kindly heart. He strolls around in the evenings when the place is quiet. ’Tis a pity he never took a wife and got himself a son and heir to keep things going. I reckon it's been a great comfort to him though now Miss Roseanne has come back to work here all the time.’

***

Roseanne was finishing for the day when the email came through. She was surprised. Mr K rarely sent emails unless they were essential, and surely this couldn’t be urgent. Something was not right about it but she couldn’t work out what it was. She frowned as she read, but she smiled when she reached the bottom and realised it was from Mrs Kennedy. Mr K was making use of his sister already. Even so it was strange that he considered his nephew needed a guide to drive down to Ashburn, considering he had travelled all over the world without mishap. Surely he was capable of introducing himself to the farm staff, even Jock Macintyre, who could be taciturn if someone got the wrong side of him. Jock had been born at Ashburn and he had risen to herdsman before Mr Kershaw bought the farm following the death of the previous owner. He had continued as dairyman but he was no longer fit for all the work he had to do, yet he didn’t want to retire. On reflection it would be better if he and Euan Kennedy got on together. They might be able to use Euan’s expertise if they invested in computerised robots to do the milking but it would be vital to assure Jock his experience with the animals would still be needed.

Roseanne
chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Euan hadn’t returned to his office all afternoon so even if he had received a copy of the email too he would not realise there was a change of arrangements for tomorrow. The last Friday of the month was payday so it was always busier than usual. Perhaps if she came in very early she could get through the essential transactions before they set out for Ashburn. It would never do if the wages were not in the workers’ accounts by Friday night. It had taken a lot of persuading to convince some of them their money would be safe and paid promptly if it went directly into their own banks. Mr K must have forgotten it was the end of the month but she supposed it was easy to lose track of the days with all that travelling and crossing time lines.

The
following morning when she looked out of her window Roseanne’s spirits rose. There had been rain during the night but the sun was rising on the freshly washed world. Across the road the tight buds of the beech hedge were beginning to unfurl and birds were darting hither and thither, already singing their hearts out, mating and building nests. She spent most weekends at Ashburn except when Robinia was home from one of her many modelling trips. Her sister had never enjoyed the farm. As soon as she was old enough she had helped their mother in her boutique. Even then she had had an eye for colour and stylish clothes.

On
reflection she was glad she was going down to the farm, even if it was only for the day, and she was pleased she would be the one to show Euan Kennedy around Ashburn.

Euan
was an early riser too and he had been delighted to discover the garden and the little wood which bounded two sides of the grounds. Now he could resume his morning jogging. He was pulling on his jogging pants when he glanced out of the window and saw Roseanne’s pale blue car arrive. He admired her trim figure in the navy trouser suit which showed her long legs to advantage. He watched her skip up the steps to the main door as lithe as a schoolgirl. Her clothes were smart and she was always neat. He wondered what she was like away from the office. He was surprised how much he wanted to get her away from the place and spend time with her. He wanted to know all about her. Whoever this Rob was she was not wearing his ring yet.

An hour later
Roseanne sighed when she heard Euan entering the office long before the usual start to the day. He had enjoyed his morning exercise and a refreshing shower. His brown hair was still damp when he put his head round her door.

`
You’re in early today, Miss Fairfax. Are we overworking you?’ She looked at him sharply but there was no trace of mockery.

`
Not at all. Have you checked your emails this morning?’

`
No, not yet. Is there anything important?’