Shadow on the Fells (19 page)

She could tell by his hesitation that he'd either forgotten all about it or just presumed she wasn't going. “What... You mean you still want to go?”

“You invited me, didn't you? I said yes, so why wouldn't I be going?”

“I just thought—”

She cut him off. “Well, you thought wrong. Just because I didn't want to get too involved too quickly doesn't mean I'm going to stand you up. A date is a date, and anyway I've bought a dress.”

“Well, then...” He sounded unsure. “A date it is. Five thirty okay? We need to allow plenty of time to get there.”

“I'll be ready and waiting,” she said, smiling.

It was after three by the time Chrissie had parked the car and begun scouring the shops—not long to find a dress in a small market town, she thought, heading for Illusions, the classiest shop in Little Dale.

“Going somewhere special?” asked the smartly dressed and beautifully made-up assistant as Chrissie browsed.

She nodded. “An important dinner. There will be dancing, too, I think. I need a dress. Something long...and unique.”

The girl looked her up and down. “I may have just the thing,” she said, gliding to a rack at the far end of the shop. The dress she returned with made Chrissie gasp as it shimmered under the lights. “It's like living, moving opal,” she cried. “Almost iridescent!”

“You are so right,” agreed the assistant. “It is like opal, because the colors are constantly changing in the light. And on you it will take on a silvery-blue sheen and bring out the blue of your eyes. Try it on... You'll see.”

When Chrissie slid the dress over her hips in the changing room, she gasped again; it was perfect, showing off her slender waist and long thighs. The plunging neckline revealed just enough cleavage.

“Jewelry?” asked the assistant when she emerged.

Chrissie shook her head, “No, thanks. I have just the thing already. Some high-heeled, strappy sandals would be nice, though.”

It was late when Chrissie finally arrived home. Dumping her bags onto the kitchen table, she pulled on her work clothes, called for the dogs and ran out into the yard. Her two shorthorn cows were lowing restlessly, unused to the change in routine, and she tied them up in their stalls and gave them a feed before drawing the milk from their warm, soft udders.

“I'll be earlier tomorrow,” she told them, excitement rising inside her. The flutter of anticipation brought a smile to her face. She'd need to have all her chores done by four thirty, she realized, if she wanted plenty of time to get ready.

* * *

“I
T
'
S
CERTAINLY
AMBITIOUS
,” Roger Simmons said, rubbing the side of his face. Will had just aired his new idea for the buildings.

“Forward thinking, too,” Roger continued. “I would hazard a guess that it could turn out to be a big step forward in getting the local farmers to accept visitors around here. I wouldn't mention it publically yet, though. Let's just get the outline planning accepted, and in the meantime I'll draft out some plans. You do know that there have been objections?”

Will nodded. “I knew that there might be. It'll be the local farmers, I suppose.”

Roger nodded. “Chrissie Marsh, perhaps.”

“No, not Chrissie. She would have told me.”

The architect raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that?”

“I've been working with her, training my dog. We've had our disagreements, but no matter what she might think of me personally I don't believe she would be underhanded like that.”

“Fair enough,” Roger said. “She's a woman of principle, though, Chrissie. She'd never drop a belief for anything. I hope you're right, because if she is leading some kind of campaign against your application, then we might be in trouble.”

“Well, I'm taking her to my old law firm's annual ball at the Manchester Hilton tomorrow,” said Will. “I can ask her then.”

Roger's friendly face shone with surprise. “A date?”

“Well, not so much a date as...” Suddenly he was smiling, too. “A challenge, I guess you'd call it.”

“I'll look forward to hearing how it goes. And leave your idea with me. I'll have some rough sketches for you in a couple of days. I like it, though... It's innovative and new and definitely something that could bring Chrissie Marsh around.”

“I know she hates tourists, but I think you're wrong about her objecting,” Will said. “She would have told me. I'm excited to show her my new idea, but I want it to be a surprise... I'm hoping it will be something we can work on together.”

Roger raised his eyebrows. “Let's hope it works out, then,” he said.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

C
HRISSIE
WOKE
UP
to sunshine on Saturday morning. Something fluttered inside her, a kind of nervous anticipation. Vague memories crept in as she blinked away the clouds of sleep. What was it about today? And then she turned over and saw the dress hanging from the wardrobe door, a shimmering mass of pearly opal. Her heart shut tight; she couldn't do this...

Her mother's voice filled her ears.
Oh, yes, you can
.

“I can, I can, I can,” she repeated.

Slipping reluctantly from the warm comfort of her bed, Chrissie crossed the room and picked up a small box from the dressing table. She held it reverently as she flipped it open to reveal a simple, beautiful opal necklace and drop earrings, her mother's pride and joy. It felt somehow as if the dress had been made especially for her, to match her mother's gift, lending her the confidence she needed to carry her through tonight.

She knew full well that Will would be worried about what she'd look like, worried that he'd be embarrassed by her. Well, she'd show him. Her blue eyes glittered as she held the necklace against her throat, and her nerves evaporated.

“You'll be beside me, Mum, won't you,” she whispered, and through the open window she heard the wind sigh.

The day passed quickly, so much to do, so much to think about. Just before lunch she drove into town to get some feed, and she was carrying bags of pellets and sheep feed out to her battered old Land Rover when she heard Will's voice behind her, farther inside the store. She froze, annoyed with herself for being so affected by his presence.

“Which dog food is best?” she heard him ask Clifford, the store manager.

“It's really up to the individual,” Clifford replied. “I can tell you about each one and—”

“Well, which one does Chrissie Marsh use?” Will cut in. “I presume she buys her dog food here.”

Chrissie put down the bag she was carrying and turned around, spotting the two men perusing bags of dog food. “I use the working dog complete,” she called, amused by the momentary embarrassment on Will's face.

“Then that's what I'll get,” he announced. “You still okay for tonight?” he said more quietly.

She held his gaze. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I can't wait.”

* * *

W
ILL
ARRIVED
EARLY
, and Chrissie heard him knock as she was dusting gold powder across her cheekbones to enhance her tan. With a touch of dark shadow to widen her eyes, a sweep of black mascara and a dab of shimmering pink lipstick, she was done.

“Let yourself in,” she called from the window. “I won't be a minute.”

With bated breath, she slipped on the dress. It slid it over her shoulders and cascaded in a shimmering mass to her feet. She twisted around to do the zipper, pulling and tugging but still not quite reaching the top. What now?

Will's voice floated up from downstairs; he was talking to the dogs. Asking him to help zip up her dress felt way too personal, but it seemed she had no other choice. Strapping on the extravagant shoes she'd bought with the dress, she shook out her long fair hair. It fell over her shoulders in loose gold-streaked waves. She smoothed her hands over her waist nervously. What if it was all too much?

Too late to worry about that
, she thought, grabbing her purse and heading for the stairs.

* * *

H
EARING
THE
SOUND
of stiletto heels on the wooden staircase, Will went into the hallway and peered upward, intrigued. The vision of Chrissie in a perfectly fitted, shimmering dress with a discreet slit that revealed a glimpse of her smooth, gleaming thigh blew him away.

“Will I do?” she asked, nervously fingering the material. “I feel like a princess.”

“We're going to a lawyer's dinner,” he said. “Not the red carpet at a film premiere. You didn't need a designer dress, but...”

“But what?” He reached out to take her hand and she smiled.

“But it was worth it because you do look like a princess.”

He tried to draw her toward him, but she twisted away, breaking the moment.

“Could you help me with this?” she asked, lifting her hair from the nape of her neck. He saw that the dress wasn't done up all the way.

He took hold of the zipper and pulled it neatly up to the top. “There,” he said, and on a sudden impulse he planted a gentle kiss on the back of her slender neck.

She shot forward, wide-eyed with astonishment, and he smiled. “Sorry. I couldn't resist.”

“No harm done,” she said lightly. “But just remember—totally professional.”

“Like you were when you kissed me back the other day?” he reminded her, and she had the grace to blush.

“I'm sorry about that,” she said, her voice husky. “I just...”

“Forget it,” he insisted, breaking the awkward moment. “And remember what your mother said. I do hope you realize that that's going to make me smile every time I introduce you to one of my colleagues or clients.”

Chrissie laughed, crouching down to stroke the two sheepdogs. She cupped their faces one at a time to plant a kiss on each nose. “Be good, girls. I'll be back later.”

“Much later,” said Will, surprised by an unexpected rush of emotion. Chrissie looked like a princess in her obviously expensive dress, but she still put her beloved dogs first. It was an image that would stay in his mind forever. Unlike many of the other women he'd met in his life, she was totally genuine, someone to trust. For the first time, he realized he had found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He just wished she felt the same way. Sometimes he was sure she did...and then she would draw back and push him away. He hoped that tonight she might finally let go and admit that she loved him, too.

* * *

T
HEY
ARRIVED
AT
the hotel early. Will wanted to drop Chrissie at the front doors so that he could park the car, but gazing at the grand entrance, she declined.

“I know I said I would be totally unfazed by your fancy friends and acquaintances, and that is true. Fancy hotels, however, are something else. I'd rather walk in on your arm if you don't mind.”

“Mind!” he said. “I'd be proud to have you on my arm, Chrissie Marsh.”

By the time they'd parked and walked back to the front doors, other guests were beginning to arrive. Chrissie took a breath and stood tall, taking long, slow, deliberate strides. Will glanced sideways at her, amused, and she tightened her fingers on his arm.

“Too much?” she whispered.

“You could never be too much,” he told her. Her eyes burned into his and his heart swelled.

He held his breath as Chrissie squeezed his arm tighter, reaching up to whisper something in his ear, but Roy Wallis approached and the moment was broken.

He patted Will heartily on the back. “Good to see you,” he said, his eyes fixing on Chrissie. “I'm glad you could come. I thought you said you were bringing some shepherd friend of yours, though.”

“Shepherdess,” Will corrected him, wondering what Chrissie was thinking.

She caught his eye and her cheeky grin made him turn away to hide his amusement. Not that Roy would have noticed; he was far too busy staring at Chrissie.

“It's a joke, isn't it,” he cried, as if he'd figured out some big secret. “I know—you're an actress and you are playing a shepherdess in a film or something.”

Chrissie drew herself up tall, shaking back her remarkable hair so that it rippled down her back. “I am a sheep farmer from the Lake District,” she said proudly. “And Will is my neighbor.”

“Well, I can see now why he's not too keen on coming back to work,” somebody else put in. Will turned to see Gilbert Waters, another former colleague. He was sporting a bright red bow tie and cummerbund instead of the usual black.

Will sighed. “Chrissie meet Gilbert, criminal defense lawyer extraordinaire.”

“And outrageously over the top, as usual,” Roy remarked dryly.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you two charming gentlemen,” said Chrissie. “No doubt we will see you later? Will and I are just on our way to the bar.”

Both Roy and Gilbert seemed a little put out but were gracious enough to smile. “Of course,” said Roy. “We'll catch you later.”

“And I need to mingle.” Wally gave an exaggerated bow. “But you'll save me a dance?”

“We aren't staying late,” Will growled before she could answer. He did not want anyone dancing with Chrissie. The thought of dancing with her himself set his pulse racing.

Wherever they went, there seemed to be someone who wanted to talk to them...or rather, Will realized, flirt with Chrissie. Timothy Mackie, a bruiser of a man who appeared to be busting out of his dress suit, made a huge fuss over seeing Will again but soon turned his attentions to her.

Will made their excuses, leaning closer to Chrissie as they stepped away. “Now, there's one you might take your mother's advice about,” he murmured. When she started to ask him why, he just raised his eyebrows. “Believe me—you really don't want to know.”

When it was time for dinner, Will found their table while Chrissie slipped off to the ladies' room. They were seated between Laura James, another lawyer from Marcus Finch, and Roy himself. Seizing his opportunity, Roy insisted that Will tell the truth about his date. “And don't insult me with your story about her being a farmer,” he said. “She has to be either a model or an actress.”

“Be careful,” Laura whispered in his ear. “Roy and Margaret are getting a divorce, so he's on the prowl. You know what a sucker he is for a pretty face.”

Jealousy hit him like a punch in the stomach, and Will had to bite his lip to avoid making a strong retort. “Back off, Roy,” he said, forcing a laugh but unable to keep the ice out of his tone. “Chrissie is with me.”

* * *

N
OTICING
THE
TENSION
between Roy and Will as she crossed the dining room, Chrissie paused just close enough to overhear the heated exchange. Could Will really be jealous? And what did it mean?

Will looked so handsome in his black dress suit and tie. He glanced over at her, and as their eyes met it felt as if they were alone in the room.

She slid into her chair beside him, and when he reached for her hand and their fingers entwined, the unfamiliar flutter inside her grew stronger, and she longed to feel his lips on hers again. She tightened her fingers around his. Being this close to him felt so right.

To her relief, Roy Wallis announced that he was going to the bar, and Will's other former colleague, Laura, turned away to talk to the man on her left. Will leaned in, his lips close to Chrissie's ear. The whole room seemed to fall silent as his breath warmed her skin.

“I think I could almost be falling in love with you, Chrissie Marsh.”

“Almost?” she whispered.

Before he could respond, Roy returned, a broad smile on his face. He slapped Will enthusiastically on the back. “Apologies,” he cried. “Didn't realize that you two were an item. Now I can see why you're insisting on hiding away in the country.”

And so the night wore on. The room got louder and louder as the drinks flowed, but Chrissie felt removed from the whole proceedings. Did Will feel the same? she wondered, catching his gaze.

“Let's get out of here,” he mouthed, and she nodded eagerly, grabbing her purse as music sprang from the ballroom. With no warning, he took both her hands, twirling her toward the doors, and then they were lost amid the other dancers, alone in their own little world.

When the musicians took up a slower tempo, he wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head against his shoulder, allowing the music to seep into her soul. His hands were warm and gentle. She lifted her face to his, and his lips brushed hers in a kiss so soft and sweet that it made her heart pound.

When the song ended, he broke their embrace and headed toward the exit.

“Come on,” he said, and she followed him willingly out into the cool, dark silence of the night.

He pressed her back against the wall, but she didn't notice the roughness of the stone. All she could feel was him, his heat, his lips, invading her senses. When, finally, he drew away he looked deep into her eyes, gently stroking her hair back from her face.

“I was wrong earlier,” he murmured. “I
am
falling in love with you.”

She laid her cheek against his silky jacket, breathing in the scent of him. Elation flooded over her, laced with guilt. Wasn't love supposed to be based on trust? Would he still be falling in love with her if he knew that she'd been less than honest with him? Oh, how she wished she'd been straight from the start. Then she wouldn't have to watch his expression change when she finally came clean...as she was determined to do. She didn't want there to be any lies between them. Chrissie was quiet and thoughtful on the way home. She lay back in her seat, high heels removed, watching Will's hands on the wheel. He drove with confidence, his eyes firmly fixed on the road ahead.

“Did you mean it?” she asked. “You know...what you said.”

He glanced at her. “I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. I'm in love with you, Chrissie.”

A heavy silence fell between them as she took in what he'd said.

“And you?” he asked, staring at the road ahead. “How do you feel?”

She hesitated, knowing that now, in this moment of closeness, she should come clean and tell him about the objections she'd sent in to the planning council. But the words wouldn't come. There was time yet she told herself, wanting to cling to the moment. “Honestly?” she said.

“Honestly.”