A Baby in His In-Tray by Michelle Douglas

A Baby in His In-Tray by Michelle Douglas

Author:Michelle Douglas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-12-06T19:31:29+00:00


CHAPTER SEVEN

LIV WAITED, BUT Seb didn’t come back to finish his barely touched lunch. Famished, she ate her soup and a good portion of the bread. Losing herself to a painting always made her hungry. She contemplated the events of the morning, trying to make sense of them, swinging between euphoria one moment and fear the next.

What if it was a one-off and the next time she picked up a paintbrush she froze again?

What if it wasn’t and what if she didn’t?

Had her gift been there all this time, hiding from her, just waiting for her to put in the effort to unearth it?

Why hadn’t she kept trying? Why hadn’t she proven herself to her muse sooner?

She swallowed. Why had she let shame and guilt conquer her so completely?

‘“The bad stuff is easier to believe,”’ she murmured, quoting a line from one of her favourite movies. It was easier to believe the worst of oneself rather than the best.

And still Seb didn’t come back.

She glanced around the walled garden—the kitchen garden rather than the more formal gardens on the other side of the warm grey stone. The staked tomatoes and runner beans provided a flourishing backdrop for feathery carrot plants and other vegetables she couldn’t identify. Heads of lettuce gleamed in the sun and lemon balm and thyme scented the air from nearby pots. Everything looked lush and vigorous. She felt lush and vigorous. She felt full rather than empty.

She glanced over her shoulder. Why hadn’t Seb come back?

She frowned, going over their lunchtime conversation—what little there’d been of it. Something had changed in him and it took a while for her to pinpoint the exact moment it had happened. It wasn’t when she’d started quizzing him about selling the farmland as she’d first thought. It was when she’d told him he had to go first—to bring her up to date on Jemima’s situation.

‘Oh!’ She stiffened. Had he thought she’d been unwilling to confide in him?

It wasn’t that at all! But she’d needed to remind herself what they were doing here, what their priority was—Jemima. She’d been playing for time. She’d love to confide in him, but... How on earth could she and Liz maintain their charade if she did?

But she hadn’t meant him to feel excluded, or think she thought him an unworthy confidant.

The bad stuff is easier to believe.

She glanced up at the house. He’d grown up with those vile parents who must’ve made him feel excluded and unwanted every single day of his childhood. He’d been honestly interested in what had happened to her this morning. Mystified too, and curious, but interested in a way a friend would be interested—perhaps even a little invested as this was his home and he’d been the one to bring her here. He’d sensed it was a big thing, a turning point, a personal miracle. And so much else here at Tyrell Hall obviously had hateful associations. Rather than sharing her good fortune with him, her excitement and gratitude, she’d dragged him back to ugly realities.



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