By Virtue Fall (The Shakespeare Sisters Book 4) Page 8

She was starting to see a lot of things differently since she’d left Thomas.

  It was beginning to look breathtakingly beautiful.

  ‘You can hop down.’ Ryan climbed out of the dingy and into the shallow water, pulling the small boat to the shore. He held his hands out for Poppy, and Juliet helped her climb to standing in the still-rocky boat, lifting her daughter up and passing her to Ryan. The two of them swished their way through the water, their trousers rolled up, laughing as the spray splashed up at them.

  When both Poppy and Charlie were safely on shore, Ryan turned back to Juliet. She was wearing a pair of jeans – rolled up to reveal her slim ankles and bare feet, her shoes tied together and looped over her shoulder. The light shirt she was wearing was unbuttoned, blowing in the breeze, revealing the thin T-shirt beneath. Every curve of her body was visible, slim and lithe. She was breathtaking.

  ‘You need some help, London?’ he asked, trying – and failing – to keep his voice light. Instead it came out rough, as though it was being dragged out of his throat. He didn’t wait for her to answer, stepping forward and wrapping his hands around her tiny waist. The feel of her warmth against his palms made his whole body tingle in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

  He watched her swallow, the tight skin of her throat bobbing up and down. Then she rested her hands on his shoulders, bracing herself against him as he lifted her up. She felt light as air. For a moment he wanted to pull her against him, feel her legs wrapping around his waist. The urge was almost too overwhelming, making him forget where he was, what he was doing, who he was with.

  ‘There you go,’ he said softly, gently releasing her into the water. Her hands still stayed on his shoulders for a moment, soft and warm. They were an arm’s length from each other, and it seemed too far. ‘Let’s go join the kids,’ he suggested. ‘It’s cold in here. I packed a blanket as well as the food.’

  They spent the morning exploring the tiny island, helping the children sort through the pebbles, looking for the perfect stone. Ryan told them the stories his grandfather had told him, about the pirates who had hidden their loot in the caves here, stealing from the English ships and selling the black market goods to the desperate colonials who’d made their home on this wild coast. He kept an eye on Juliet as he spoke, claiming London had it coming after all the taxes they’d put on the food they’d exported.

  She’d stuck out her tongue in response, making him laugh out loud.

  Later, when their stomachs began to rumble after an hour of playing in the sand and pebbles, he pulled out the food; thick sandwiches full of ham and cheese, with bags of chopped fruit and trail mix for dessert. Ryan trained his camera on the ragtag group, watching the three of them laughing and talking through the glass of his lens. He’d taken photographs of the kids, of their pebbles, of the way they laughed so abandoned and free. And then he’d turned his viewfinder onto Juliet herself, catching her completely unawares as he took close-ups of the freckles that trailed across the bridge of her nose. He was fascinated by the way the soft skin behind her knee folded together as she crouched in front of the picnic blanket.

  He wasn’t going to develop them – not these intimate shots – but there was so much beauty in her form that he couldn’t help wanting to frame it.

  As if she could feel the heat of the lens as he trained it on her, she slowly turned, a small smile playing on her lips. Though the breeze was light, it still managed to lift the tendrils that framed her face, until the strands were dancing against her skin in a rhythm of their own.

  ‘Are you taking pictures of me?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Liar. Let me see.’ She stood up and cleared the space between them, reaching for the camera he had slung around his neck.

  ‘It’s an SLR, there’s nothing to see.’

  ‘You don’t take digital photographs?’ she questioned.

  ‘I do when I’m working,’ he said, still holding tightly to the hard plastic case of his camera, even though she wasn’t reaching for it any more. ‘But when I’m taking photos for pleasure, I still like to use this old thing. I like being able to develop the film, to watch it come to life. There’s something amazing about the way the image slowly shows itself on the paper.’

  ‘That sounds fascinating. I’d love to see how it works.’

  She was smiling again, and he decided he liked that more than he could say. In the weeks since he’d met her – on that embarrassing day at the school – she hadn’t smiled a whole lot. Maybe that’s why earning a curve of her lips felt like he’d hit the jackpot.

  Maybe that’s why he’d felt the need to capture it on camera, too.

  ‘I’ll show you some time,’ he said, making a mental note to get rid of the more embarrassing frames. ‘But in the meantime, I need to get you back to the wharf. I made a promise I wouldn’t interfere with your job, and I plan to keep it.’

  ‘Is it that time already?’ She looked almost disappointed. ‘I didn’t realise it was getting so late.’

  He could hear regret in her tone, and he liked it very much. Liked the thought that she was having a good time with him. She was like a flower slowly unfurling from a closed-up bud, and it was going to be beautiful when she finally bloomed.

  And if he was being really honest, he wanted to be there when she did.

  9

  For my part, I may speak it to my shame,

  I have a truant been to chivalry;

  And so I hear he doth account me too

  – Henry IV Part 1

  ‘I hear you took Poppy out on a boat last Saturday. I don’t remember you asking me about it first,’ Thomas said. He was standing at the door, his arms folded across his chest. His tailored jacket was tight across his shoulders. Had he put a little weight on? Strange how she still noticed things like that.

  ‘We just went out for a couple of hours. She had a lovely time.’

  ‘With Ryan Sutherland, or so they say.’

  There was an edge to his voice she didn’t quite understand. She looked up at him, taking in his face. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes narrow.

  Was he jealous? Surely he couldn’t be. He had Nicole, after all. If anybody was entitled to be jealous it was Juliet.

  And yet she didn’t feel jealous. Not at all.

  ‘That’s right,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light. She really didn’t want every meeting to end in an argument. ‘He’s moved in next door.’

  A look of surprise. Aha! So maybe he didn’t know everything.

  Thomas glanced back over his shoulder, frowning as he took in the house to the left of her bungalow. ‘He lives there?’ he asked abruptly. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I didn’t think anything of it,’ she said. Though her voice was calm, her heart was starting to pound. ‘What does it matter anyway?’

  ‘Anything to do with our daughter is a concern to me. And I don’t like the thought of her being around Ryan Sutherland, not one little bit. The man’s little more than a drifter. Did you know he left his family behind without a word to go travelling, yet still expected them to keep the business going? They even pay him dividends every year though he does nothing to deserve them.’

  ‘Isn’t that how business works? Shareholders receive dividends. It happens the world over.’

  ‘He’s always been unreliable. Even at school he let people down.’ His eyes narrowed, as though his thoughts were drifting back twenty years. ‘I don’t like you spending time with him.’

  ‘But you don’t get to decide who I spend time with any more. We’re separated, remember?’

  Thomas winced. ‘But not divorced. We’re still married.’

  She felt her chest tighten. She could remember the day she and Poppy had left to move into the bungalow. Thomas had asked her to stay, to try again. But the pain of his betrayal had been too much to bear.

  ‘Maybe you should move back onto the estate,’ Thomas said, catching her eye. ‘We could renovate one of the old cottages for you and Poppy.�
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  ‘I don’t think—’

  He reached out, touching her arm with the tip of his fingers. ‘Just hear me out. I know what I did was terrible. And I know I broke your heart. But if you came back – even if we didn’t live together – it would be so much better for all of us.’

  He looked so earnest, it took her by surprise. ‘Not for me. We’re happy here,’ she told him. ‘And anyway, what would Nicole say if we moved back?’

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t asked her.’

  She took a step back, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Well before you make an offer like that, maybe you should. I remember what it’s like having your life turned upside down without being consulted.’ And yes, Nicole had been involved too, but that didn’t mean that it was her fault. It was Thomas who’d been the married one.

  Thomas raked his hand through his hair. ‘I messed up, I know I did. And I’m paying for it, too. You think I like this? Only seeing my daughter at the weekends? Finding out that you’ve been spending time with other men from gossips at the club?’

  What the hell did he think was going to happen when he started his affair with Nicole? This conversation was going nowhere, the way all their conversations seemed to go. ‘I need to go,’ she said, stepping back inside the house. ‘I have to cook dinner.’

  ‘I just wanted to ask you something.’ Thomas lingered on the porch.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Can you have Poppy ready on Friday? We’re going away for the weekend.’

  ‘You are?’

  ‘It’s Nicole’s birthday. We’re going to the beach house for the weekend. The Fratellis are going, and so are the Simons, in fact most of our friends will be there. Poppy will enjoy it, I’m sure.’

  Of course she would. Poppy loved the beach, and she loved the huge, wooden house that had been in the Marshalls’ hands for generations. They’d spent most of their summers there before … before …

  Before their whole world had been shaken inside out.

  Every time a memory hit, Juliet’s heart broke a little more for her child. It was her daughter who was paying the price. She’d had so much stolen from her already, and she didn’t even know it. Juliet was damned if she was going to let her child lose any more. Which was why she was going to keep things civil, even if it killed her.

  ‘I’ll have her ready,’ she said quietly. ‘What time will you be picking her up?’

  ‘I’ll pick her up from school. Can you send her suitcase in with her?’

  ‘Of course.’ Thomas had been an awful husband, but he was a good father, and she was grateful for that. Poppy was surrounded by love on all sides. She’d never feel lost or alone, the way Juliet had after her mother died. She’d never have to be the one singled out because her father was perpetually late.

  Thomas nodded, and walked back to his car. She watched him from the doorway, and felt a sense of bewilderment at how fast her life had changed. Once upon a time she’d been so in love with Thomas Marshall it made her heart hurt. But with every day that passed the pain was dissipating, right along with the love.

  One day he’d just be somebody she used to know.

  *

  An hour later, she was walking down through her back yard and to the woods beyond, clutching a bag full of soda cans and home-made cookies. Poppy was spending the day with Charlie and Ryan as they worked on a tree house, and Juliet was thankful she’d not seen the discussion between her and Thomas back at the house.

  She heard them before she could see them. Loud shouts and giggles echoing through the forest, accompanied by the banging of a hammer, pushing nails into thick planks of wood. When she rounded the corner, the two children were standing at the bottom of the huge oak, watching as Ryan was half-suspended about ten feet up, his muscles flexing as he pulled the hammer back then launched it forward.

  She’d never met a man who lived so much in the moment. He made decisions and went with them, never worrying about where he was going or where he came from. Look at the tree house – only a week ago Charlie was telling Poppy about the place they’d lived in when they stayed in the rainforest of Costa Rica, and the next minute Ryan was downloading plans for a tree house of their own.

  He was so different from Thomas, even though they were from similar families, and brought up in the same town. She found it stupidly attractive.

  ‘I brought some snacks,’ she called out as she walked into the clearing. Poppy and Charlie looked up. Their eyes widened when they saw her bag of goodies, and the two of them ran over, their tiny hands already searching through the bag for their favourites.

  It took Ryan a moment longer to realise she was there, but when he did, a big grin formed across his face. His obvious pleasure in seeing her warmed her from the inside. She was getting used to the way her body responded whenever she was around him, feeling like the giggly teenager she’d never been.

  ‘You brought me food, London?’ he called down. ‘Where have you been all my life? You’re a godsend.’

  ‘Always with the compliments,’ she said, grinning. ‘You need to stop doing that. I’ll get a big head.’ She grabbed a can of Coke, still ice cold from the refrigerator, and threw it across to him. He caught it easily, pulling the key, then lifted it to his lips. He closed his eyes, taking a long mouthful of drink. As soon as he swallowed it down, he sighed.

  ‘Man that’s good. Thanks for bringing the snacks.’

  She shrugged. ‘Think of it as payment for looking after those two.’

  They both turned to look at the children. They were arguing furiously over a packet of chips, neither of them willing to give in.

  ‘They’ve been bickering all afternoon,’ he told her. ‘They’re like an old married couple. I keep having to stop working on the tree house so I can silently laugh at them.’

  ‘What have they been doing?’ She was intrigued. Charlie and Poppy’s relationship seemed more like siblings than friends. They’d grown close so very quickly. Though they were fiercely protective of each other, they never seemed to agree on anything.

  ‘Poppy was talking about the kinds of flowers we should pick to put in the house.’

  ‘She was?’ Why did that surprise her? Poppy was constantly around flowers in the shop, after all.

  ‘Yeah, and Charlie wasn’t having any of it.’

  ‘That’s because it’s my tree house,’ Charlie piped up. ‘And I don’t want flowers in it.’

  ‘But flowers will make it pretty,’ Poppy said, frowning. Juliet sensed this was simply a rehash of their earlier row.

  ‘I don’t want it pretty. I want it manly. Flowers are for girls.’

  ‘They’re so not.’

  ‘Yes they are. Boys don’t do flowers.’

  ‘Some boys do,’ Ryan said, catching Juliet’s eye. ‘Some boys like flowers very much.’ He leaned down to pick up a purple aster, from the cluster growing around the tree. Winking at Juliet, he slid it behind his ear. ‘See?’

  Even with that flower in his ear he looked ridiculously attractive. Poppy laughed and picked another flower. ‘You want one, Charlie?’ she asked him.

  Torn, Charlie looked from Poppy to his father. ‘I … I don’t know.’

  ‘Did you know that in the old days people thought asters could ward off evil snakes?’ Juliet asked him.

  Charlie turned to her, leaning his head to the side. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yep. And the purple ones are symbols for wisdom. So they’re pretty cool if you think about it.’

  Licking his lips, Charlie turned to Poppy. ‘I guess you can put it in my hair … if you have to.’ He stood still as Poppy slid the aster behind his ear. When it was firmly in place, she tugged hard at his earlobe and stuck out her tongue, before running away from him. Charlie chased her, the two of them weaving in and out of the tree as they giggled loudly.

  Juliet looked at Ryan. He was staring right back at her. For a moment she held his gaze, the heat of his stare searing at the air surrounding them. This was getting crazy. It seem
ed as though every time she looked at him her breath got caught in her throat.

  She needed to get over herself fast. If Thomas was already getting angry about her being seen around the wharf with Ryan, God only knew what he’d think if he could read her mind.

  Poppy and Charlie were still dodging in and out of trees, paying their parents no attention as they shouted and laughed at each other, Poppy’s attempts at stealing Charlie’s flower failing each time she got close. They were about a hundred yards away – audible, but not visible – when he looked at Juliet, and caught her staring right back at him.

  She was beautiful. Her features were delicate and yet defined, her blue eyes wide and sparkling. And her smile – oh, her smile – it was like the sun bursting out through a thick layer of cloud.

  She took a step towards him, that smile still illuminating her face. ‘That flower really does suit you,’ she said, reaching to touch it. ‘Purple is definitely your colour.’

  There was a teasing tone in her voice that made his heart race. Letting his mouth curl up into a lazy grin, he reached up and grabbed her hand where it was touching the flower, sliding his fingers between hers.

  ‘I’m not afraid of showing my feminine side,’ he told her, even though every thought rushing through his brain felt masculine as hell. He brought her hand to his face, breathing her in, then brushed his lips lightly against her wrist.

  Her breath hitched. She was still staring up at him, her eyes framed by thick lashes that swept down every time she blinked. He kissed her wrist again, sliding his lips along her delicate skin, and the sensation made every cell in his body explode with desire.

  For a second he could see his desire reflected in her own expression. Then without warning she pulled her hand away, taking a step back from him. She shook her head and frowned, before turning to call for her daughter.

  ‘Poppy, we need to go.’ Her voice was tight. The teasing from only a few moments ago had disappeared completely.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Ryan looked at her, seeking her eyes, but her gaze was still firmly stuck on her daughter. ‘I was out of line. I shouldn’t have—’