CHAPTER 1

         ‘Just a few more hours and then everyone would leave. I can do it… I have no other choice,’ Audrey thought looking outside from her bedroom’s window.  

          It was what her parents would have expected of her. She could almost hear her mother’s warm, faintly admonishing voice whispering in her ear.  

“Come on, Addie… Keep your eyes on the prize, sweet girl. And remember, this too shall pass.”

          It had been one of her mother’s favorite sayings when as a small child, she had tried to duck out of anything unpleasant. Audrey Seymour drew in a deep breath and straightened her drooping shoulders. Checking her reflection in the bedroom mirror, she satisfied herself that the recent flood of tears didn’t show and then left the room.

          On walking down the wide staircase, Audrey could see a few odd people she didn’t know in the hall, but the main group of guests was in the living room. They were talking in the hushed tones one used at funeral receptions.

          Amy, her mother’s housekeeper and friend who’d been one of the family for as long as Audrey could remember, met her at the foot of the stairs. Amy’s eyes were pink rimmed and her voice shaky.

“Would you like me to tell them to come through to the dining room now?” Amy asked her. “Everything’s ready, anyway.”

          Audrey nodded. She hugged Amy for a moment then looked at her and smiled slightly.

“What would I do without you, Amy?” she murmured. “You’ve been a tower of strength to me during these last few days. I couldn’t have got through this without you.”

          Amy’s plump chin trembled as she fought for control.

“Baby, I don’t feel I have been. To be honest, I still find it hard to believe they won’t walk through that door anymore.”

“I know… I feel the same.”

          It had been Amy the police had notified the night of her parents’ terrible car crash. Two policemen called at the house and told her the tragic news. Amy had immediately called her and Audrey had left her flat in London within minutes.

          On the journey back to Cornwall she had been in deep shock, praying the whole time that she wouldn’t be too late. Amy had told her that her father had been pronounced dead at the scene of the accident but her mother was still clinging to life.

          By the time she reached the hospital, her mother had been able to tell the police that her father had collapsed at the wheel and the car had plowed off the road, wrapping itself around a tree.

          Audrey had had five precious minutes with the woman who had been her best friend as well as her mother. Five minutes to last the rest of her life. Five minutes to block her mother’s voice in her brain.

          The autopsy had revealed that her father had suffered a massive heart attack and had probably been dead before the car had hit the tree. It was generally acknowledged it was the worst of luck that he had been driving at the time.

          Forcing her thoughts into neutral, Audrey realized Amy was wiping her eyes again.

“You know what, Amy? I’ll go and announce they can come through. Alright?”

“No, no, sweetie. If you can hold it together, then so can I,” Amy protested shakily. “I’ll do it.”

          The two looked at each other for a long moment, drawing from each other’s strength in the midst of their grief, and then Amy hurried off. Audrey glanced at her watch, a present from her parents for her twenty-first, six years before. One o’clock. Hopefully, the assembled family and friends would all be gone by four.

          She heard Anthony Blackburn’s voice as she reached the living room door and saw him standing with a tall dark man she’d vaguely noticed earlier. Anthony was her father’s lawyer and friend.

          He’d asked to stay behind after the others had gone so he could read her parents’ will to her. Audrey knew it wasn’t just that, though. He would feel it his duty to point out that a huge rambling place like Seymour House was too much for a young woman to take on, that it would make more sense to sell it.

          She wouldn’t listen to him. She mentally nodded to the thought. Seymour House was in her blood. It had been in her father’s, and his father before him. It had been her great-great-grandfather who had built the massive stone house on the top of the cliff over one hundred and fifty years ago, and the Seymour clan had lived in this house ever since.

          Her eyes darkened with pain. Although she had inherited it far too soon, Audrey decided she would keep her beloved house going while she had breath in her body. It was part of her, part of her parents, part of her life. No way she would sell it!

“Ah, Addie…”

          Anthony had known her since she was a baby and, as he put out a fatherly arm and drew her into his side, she had to bite back the tears. To fight back the weakness, Audrey kept her spine straight and her lips clamped together.

“I’d like you to meet the son of one of your father’s old friends. James Mayer, this is Audrey Seymour.”

          Her inner battle to remain composed and in control in spite of her grief during the funeral, had made her almost blind and deaf throughout. Now, for the first time that day, Audrey looked properly at the man she had noticed earlier at the church and then the graveside with Anthony.

          Now, for the first time, she saw him as a person rather than another somber-clothed shape among many somber-clothed shapes. ‘How do you do?’ she wanted to say, but those polite words never left her lips.

          James Mayer was tall, very tall, and broad with it. He wasn’t smiling. Not that it was the time and place for smiles, Audrey supposed, but there was something in the piercing blue eyes that was absolutely annoying.

          After what seemed an endless moment, he spoke.

“Please accept the condolences of my father, Miss Seymour. His bad health has prevented him to make the journey from the States himself but he wanted to pay his respects.”

          His voice ran over Audrey’s overstretched nerves like icy water. It was deep, cold, and liquid-smooth although the timbre was as hard as polished steel. Mesmerized more by the coolness of his manner than his height and rugged good looks, Audrey replied hesitantly.

“Thank you very much.”

          She couldn’t recall her father or mother speaking of anyone called Mayer. Why had this old friend who lived on the other side of the ocean sent his son to represent him after all this time? It seemed so strange.

“My father and yours were friends?” she asked carefully. “I don’t wish to be rude, but I don’t remember the name.”

“No reason why you should.”

          The big powerful body appeared relaxed but this didn’t diminish the energy and force it projected.

“My father and yours grew up together but my father left for the States when he was in his early twenties.”

          His accent was the type of lazy American drawl that was so attractive on the silver screen and even the lack of warmth couldn’t deny its appeal. Audrey wondered why this stranger disliked her because she was absolutely sure he did. She could see it in his manner, on his expression, and, most of all, in his cold, cold eyes.

“I see…”

          Audrey didn’t but it didn’t matter as the weight of her loss pressed down on her again.

“Would you be so kind, please, and thank your father for me? I hope he is well soon…”

“My father is dying, Miss Seymour. Slowly but surely.”

          The very sharply defined planes and angles of the masculine face showed no emotion as Audrey stared at him. She was completely taken aback but, before she could bring her mind to bear, Anthony Blackburn spoke again.

“I’m sorry to hear that, James. You didn’t mention it before. We had some good times when we were younger… I mean your father, Audrey’s and myself. We were known as the Three Musketeers.”

          There was a small silence when Audrey wondered if James Mayer was going to ignore the man at his side, his eyes still intent on her face. Then, to her relief, the rapier gaze moved and he turned to Anthony. His smile was chilly.

“So he said...”

          What an obnoxious man! Audrey couldn’t believe anyone would come to a funeral and then be so covertly rude to the person in grief. Drawing herself up to her full height of five feet six inches, which unfortunately was still almost a foot below the son of her father’s old friend which, she felt, put her at something of a disadvantage, Audrey talked as coldly as he had spoken.

“Please, excuse me, Mr. Mayer, but I have other people to talk to.”

          ‘Nice people, normal people, not icebergs,’ she added silently.  

“I’ll see you later, Uncle Tony.”

          It had always been Uncle Tony and Aunt Gillian since she was a child although they weren’t related. Her mother and father had both been only children and so it had been Anthony’s two sons and two daughters she had looked on as cousins and, having no brothers and sisters herself, their friendship had been precious. It still was, although all but the youngest son had moved to other parts of the country, or overseas.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. Go and do this. I’ll be right here if you need me.”

"Thank you."

          James Mayer saluted her with a simple nod and Audrey left them and joined other people.