Chistmas In Manhattan Collection. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.
had stepped far enough away from it for it to have become invisible. And it had been that perfect family scene that had led him away. His two boys, under the sheltering arms of someone who had looked, for all the world, like their mother. With a loyal family pet at their feet, even.
But now Zac had shown him the signpost that led straight back to the gaping hole in his life.
And Elijah was shaking his head. ‘I hope you’re not harbouring any hope of this lot playing happy families any time soon.’
They all turned their gazes on their parents. Hugo and Miranda were both down on the floor with the twins. Miranda’s gifts of a new toy car for Cameron and a tractor for Max had been opened and set aside and now the first of the many parcels from the grandparents were being opened. It looked like it was a very large train set, judging by the lengths of wooden rails that were appearing. The level of excitement was increasing and Charles needed to go and share it. Maybe that way, the twins wouldn’t notice the way their grandmother was perched on a sofa at some distance, merely watching the spectacle.
‘Anyone else coming?’ Zac asked. ‘Where’s Penny?’
‘Still on holiday. Skiing, I think. Or was it sky-diving?’
‘Sounds like her. And Jude? I’d love to catch up with him.’
‘Are you kidding?’ Elijah’s eyebrows rose. ‘Being a cousin is a perfect “get out of jail” card for most of our family get-togethers.’
Charles moved away from his brothers. It was always like this. Yes, there were moments of joy to be found in his family but the undercurrents were strong enough to mean that there was always tension. And most of that tension came from Vanessa and Elijah.
You had to make allowances, of course. It was his mother who’d been hardest hit by the scandal of learning that her husband had been having an affair that had resulted in a child—Miranda. That knowledge would have been hard enough, but to find out because Miranda’s mother had died and her father had insisted on acknowledging her and bringing her into the family home had been unbearable for Vanessa.
Unbearable for everyone. The difference in age between himself and his twin might have been insignificant but Charles had always known that he was the oldest child. The firstborn. And that came with a responsibility that he took very seriously. That turbulent period of the scandal had been his first real test and he’d done everything he could to comfort his siblings—especially Elijah, who’d been so angry and bitter. To protect the frightened teenager who had suddenly become one of their number as well. And to support his devastated mother, who was being forced to start an unexpected chapter in her life.
Like the authors of many of the gossip columns, he’d expected his mother would walk away from her marriage but Vanessa had chosen not to take that option. She’d claimed that she didn’t want to bring more shame on the Davenport family but they all knew that what scared her more would have been walking away from her own exalted position in New York society and the fundraising efforts that had become her passion.
To outward appearances, the shocking changes had been tolerated with extraordinary grace. Behind closed doors, however, it had been a rather different story. There were no-go areas that Vanessa had constructed for her own protection and nobody, including her husband, would dream of intruding on them uninvited.
Charles had always wondered if he could have done more, especially for Elijah, who had ended up so bitter about marriage and what he sarcastically referred to as ‘happy families’. If he could have done a better job as the firstborn, maybe he could have protected his family more successfully, perhaps by somehow diverting the destructive force of the scandal breaking. It hadn’t been his fault, of course, any more than Nina’s death had been. Why didn’t that lessen the burden that a sense of responsibility created?
But surely enough time had passed to let them all move on?
Charles felt tired of it all suddenly. The effort it had taken to try and keep his shattered family together would have been all-consuming at any time. To have had it happen in the run-up to his final exams had been unbelievably difficult. Life-changing.
If it hadn’t happened, right after that night he’d shared with Grace, how different might his life have been?
Would he have shut her out so completely? Pretended that night had never happened because that was a factor he had absolutely no head space to even consider?
To his shame, Charles had been so successful in shutting it out in that overwhelmingly stressful period, he had never thought of how it might have hurt Grace.
Was that why she’d pretty much flinched during that kiss last night? Why she’d practically run away from him as hard and fast as she could politely manage?
Receiving that photo this morning had felt kind of like Grace was sending an olive branch. An apology for running, perhaps. Or at least an indication that they could still be friends?
The effect was a swirl of confusion. He had glimpsed something huge that was missing from his life, along with the impression that Grace was possibly the only person who could fill that gap. The very edges of that notion should be stirring his usual reaction of disloyalty to Nina that thoughts of including any other woman in his life usually engendered.
But it wasn’t happening...
Because there was a part of his brain that was standing back and providing a rather different perspective? Would Nina have wanted her babies to grow up without a mom?
Would he have wanted them to grow up without a dad, if he’d been the one to die too soon?
Of course not.
He had experienced the first real surge of physical desire in three long years, too. That should be sparking the guilt but it didn’t seem to be. Not in the way he’d become so accustomed to, anyway.
He wouldn’t have inflicted a life of celibacy on Nina, either.
Maybe the guilt was muted by something more than a different perspective. Because, after the way she had reacted last night, it seemed that going any further down that path was very unlikely?
The more he thought about it, the more his curiosity about Grace was intensifying.
She had felt the same level of need, he knew she had. She had responded to that kiss in a way that had inflamed that desire to a mind-blowing height.
And then she’d flinched as though he had caused her physical pain.
Why?
It wasn’t really any of his business but curiosity was becoming a need to know.
Because, as unlikely as it was, could the small part he had played in Grace’s life in the past somehow have contributed to whatever it was?
A ridiculous notion but, if nothing else, it seemed like a legitimate reason to try and find out the truth. Not that it was going to be easy, mind you. Some people were very good at building walls to keep their pain private. Like his mother. Thanks to that enormous effort he’d made to try and keep his family together during the worst time of that scandal breaking, however, he had learned more than anyone about exactly what was behind Vanessa Davenport’s walls. Because he’d respected that pain and had had a base of complete trust to work from.
He could hardly expect Grace to trust him that much. Not when he looked back over the years and could see the way he’d treated her from her point of view.
But there was something there.
And, oddly, it did feel a bit like trust.
Stepping over train tracks that his father was slotting together, smiling at the delight on his sons’ faces as they unwrapped a bright blue steam engine with a happy face on the front, Charles moved towards the couch and bent to kiss Vanessa’s cheek.
‘Awesome present, Mom,’ he said with a smile. ‘Clever of you to know how much the boys love Thomas the Tank Engine.’
* * *
That