wife,' he said firmly. 'Yes, she had a career in music
planned. That was one of the things that drew us together.' He drank
some wine. 'And it was also the factor that drove us apart. Among
other things.'
Sandie hesitated. 'Would you rather not talk about it? I'm sorry...'
'Don't be,' he said swiftly. 'They say confession is good for the soul,
and maybe you're the ideal person for me to confide in, after all this
time.' He paused. 'I met Francesca and fell in love, and for me it was
as simple as that. I assumed it was like that for her too, but I was
wrong. All the locals had always thought she'd marry Flynn and
become mistress of Killane, but he was far too busy playing the
field, and never asked her. So in me Francesca saw the perfect way
of getting her own back on Flynn, and boosting herself up the
musical ladder at the same time. And I was too besotted to see it—
then.'
Sandie swallowed. 'But that can't be all there was to it,' she
protested. 'She must have cared for you.'
'Briefly, perhaps.' Crispin's mouth twisted. 'But it was a phase which
soon passed. And it didn't help matters when she discovered that she
didn't have what it takes to succeed as a soloist, and that my
influence wasn't going to make the slightest difference. Somehow,
that became my fault, along with the fact that she'd married the
wrong man for the wrong reasons.'
Sandie stared down at her plate. 'That's—awful,' she said slowly.
'It was at the time, certainly. I still loved her—then. I wanted to try
again—to fight for her, but she soon made it clear there was nothing
left to fight for. In a way, it was a relief when she left me.'
'Do you know where she went?' Sandie's tone was hesitant.
Crispin laughed shortly. 'To pursue her career elsewhere, I presume.
What does it matter? There was nothing for her to hang round for
here. Flynn has no contacts in the music world, and she'd already
got the message that he isn't the marrying kind—so...'
'But you're not divorced?'
He shrugged. 'She knows where I am if she wants to institute
proceedings.'
'You'd think she would want to,' Sandie said, half to herself, and
flushed when she caught his surprised look. 'I mean, having made
the mistake, I'd want to put the whole thing right—start again.'
He reached across the table and took her fingers in his. 'But you, my
sweet, are not Francesca. There's a warmth in you, a tenderness, and
an intrinsic modesty about your talent which Francesca totally
lacked, only I was too much in love to see it. She was a go-getter,
ambitious down to her bones, hard as nails. In fact, she and my
beloved brother were well suited to each other in those respects.'
'I wish he'd go,' Sandie said stormily.
'He will soon.' His tone was soothing. 'I've already told you, he
doesn't stay around long. He's the eternal rover—always restless,
looking for new worlds to conquer.' He smiled bitterly. 'And new
women.'
Against her will, Sandie found herself remembering those few
shattering moments in Flynn's arms that first night in the music
room—the slow insolent rake of his eyes down her body on the
sunlit beach only a few hours before.
She shivered. 'He's vile!' she said passionately.
Crispin smiled at her across the flowers and candles. 'And you're
adorable,' he said softly. 'I should have waited for you to come into
my life, little Alexandra, instead of chasing shadows.' He watched
the warm colour rise once again in her face, and smiled. 'And you
blush,' he said. 'I'd forgotten that women still could. Now eat your
meal,' he added, releasing her hand. 'Unless my troubles have
destroyed your appetite?'
She forced a smile. 'I don't think anything could do that. The food's
wonderful.'
There was another pause, and she wondered if she'd said the wrong
thing, but all he said was, 'So ethereal, and yet so practical,' before
turning the conversation to the forthcoming concert season.
They lingered over the coffee and brandies, and
planned. That was one of the things that drew us together.' He drank
some wine. 'And it was also the factor that drove us apart. Among
other things.'
Sandie hesitated. 'Would you rather not talk about it? I'm sorry...'
'Don't be,' he said swiftly. 'They say confession is good for the soul,
and maybe you're the ideal person for me to confide in, after all this
time.' He paused. 'I met Francesca and fell in love, and for me it was
as simple as that. I assumed it was like that for her too, but I was
wrong. All the locals had always thought she'd marry Flynn and
become mistress of Killane, but he was far too busy playing the
field, and never asked her. So in me Francesca saw the perfect way
of getting her own back on Flynn, and boosting herself up the
musical ladder at the same time. And I was too besotted to see it—
then.'
Sandie swallowed. 'But that can't be all there was to it,' she
protested. 'She must have cared for you.'
'Briefly, perhaps.' Crispin's mouth twisted. 'But it was a phase which
soon passed. And it didn't help matters when she discovered that she
didn't have what it takes to succeed as a soloist, and that my
influence wasn't going to make the slightest difference. Somehow,
that became my fault, along with the fact that she'd married the
wrong man for the wrong reasons.'
Sandie stared down at her plate. 'That's—awful,' she said slowly.
'It was at the time, certainly. I still loved her—then. I wanted to try
again—to fight for her, but she soon made it clear there was nothing
left to fight for. In a way, it was a relief when she left me.'
'Do you know where she went?' Sandie's tone was hesitant.
Crispin laughed shortly. 'To pursue her career elsewhere, I presume.
What does it matter? There was nothing for her to hang round for
here. Flynn has no contacts in the music world, and she'd already
got the message that he isn't the marrying kind—so...'
'But you're not divorced?'
He shrugged. 'She knows where I am if she wants to institute
proceedings.'
'You'd think she would want to,' Sandie said, half to herself, and
flushed when she caught his surprised look. 'I mean, having made
the mistake, I'd want to put the whole thing right—start again.'
He reached across the table and took her fingers in his. 'But you, my
sweet, are not Francesca. There's a warmth in you, a tenderness, and
an intrinsic modesty about your talent which Francesca totally
lacked, only I was too much in love to see it. She was a go-getter,
ambitious down to her bones, hard as nails. In fact, she and my
beloved brother were well suited to each other in those respects.'
'I wish he'd go,' Sandie said stormily.
'He will soon.' His tone was soothing. 'I've already told you, he
doesn't stay around long. He's the eternal rover—always restless,
looking for new worlds to conquer.' He smiled bitterly. 'And new
women.'
Against her will, Sandie found herself remembering those few
shattering moments in Flynn's arms that first night in the music
room—the slow insolent rake of his eyes down her body on the
sunlit beach only a few hours before.
She shivered. 'He's vile!' she said passionately.
Crispin smiled at her across the flowers and candles. 'And you're
adorable,' he said softly. 'I should have waited for you to come into
my life, little Alexandra, instead of chasing shadows.' He watched
the warm colour rise once again in her face, and smiled. 'And you
blush,' he said. 'I'd forgotten that women still could. Now eat your
meal,' he added, releasing her hand. 'Unless my troubles have
destroyed your appetite?'
She forced a smile. 'I don't think anything could do that. The food's
wonderful.'
There was another pause, and she wondered if she'd said the wrong
thing, but all he said was, 'So ethereal, and yet so practical,' before
turning the conversation to the forthcoming concert season.
They lingered over the coffee and brandies, and
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