'It's sensational is what it is,' her one-woman fan club assured her. Hannah wondered cynically if she worked on commission. All the same, she thought, glancing into the full-length wall mirror, she hadn't known she was capable of looking—well, sexy!
The simple bodice of deep ruby-red satin was moulded closely but not tightly before it flared slightly into a short skirt. Sleeveless, with a scooped neck, it was the simplest thing she'd tried on. 'I usually wear sleeves—my arms are a bit skinny.'
'Are you mad? I'd kill for your arms, and your collarbones are so Audrey Hepburn,' the sales woman sighed enviously. 'I expect you're too young to know who she is.'
Hannah grinned. 'I've seen Breakfast at Tiffany's a million times.'
I must have been mad, she thought later as she dithered at her bedroom door. What if Ethan hated it? What if he thought it looked, horror of horrors, tarty! What if he insisted she changed? What if.,.?
She shook her head angrily at these fancies. The fact was he probably wouldn't even notice she looked different. She was making a big fuss about nothing. What if he didn't like it—so what? I like it, she decided firmly.
This firm resolve carried her all the way to the drawing-room door. Getting beyond it was achieved by sheer will-power.
'Sorry if I'm late.' Her chin went automatically up to fend off any criticism. She was quite glad that the strappy sandals gave her an illusion of height.
Ethan was the sort of man whom nobody would ever mistake for a waiter in his dinner jacket. Whilst Hannah couldn't be described as a dispassionate observer, she couldn't believe anyone female could fail to be impressed by his sinfully sexy dark good looks.
He glanced from the file he was flicking through to his wristwatch. 'Only by five min...' He looked up and his voice froze as completely as his body. His eyes swept her from top to toe and back again before he spoke. 'You've cut your hair.'
'An impulse,' she said nervously. He'd noticed, but it was impossible to tell from his expression whether he approved of the transformation.
'Did Alice help you choose that?' His eyes touched the red dress.
'No.'
'It shows.'
Enigmatic could be pretty frustrating at times, she thought, glaring at his broad back as he moved in front of her to hold the door open.
Maggie Hilton and her husband, a couple ten years or so older than Ethan, were some of his closest friends. The very first dinner party she'd presided over as Mrs Kemp had been for them. Hannah had wanted everything to be perfect; she'd fussed and worried over the minutest detail for a whole week beforehand.
She'd been desperately anxious to do the right thing, say the right thing, but in the event she'd scarcely said anything. The couple were both solicitors and the conversation had been largely shop talk. Hannah would have liked to say something witty and amusing, but she didn't think they'd be interested in the funny thing that had happened outside the school gates. Occasionally someone would remember she was there and try to include her, but it had all been painfully forced.
She'd been settling Tom, who had woken whilst their guests were leaving. Richard had already got into the car, but Maggie had still been talking to Ethan in the hallway when she'd come quietly back downstairs.
'It's such a permanent solution, Ethan.'
'I know what I'm doing, Maggie.'
'Do you? I wonder? The children won't be small for ever, and then they'll be off to school. Oh, I know you had a horrid time at boarding-school, but you'll change your mind when the time comes, and, I don't care what anyone says, it builds character.'
Looking down from the dark alcove, Hannah could only see Ethan's back but Maggie's expression of pitying affection was highlighted by the light she stood beneath. 'She's very nice, but when I think of Catherine...' She shook her head regretfully. 'I know it wasn't all plain sailing, but the best of us have our differences— that's what makes marriage interesting. Catherine was so alive and spontaneous, and she's so dull. I'm sorry— I promised Richard I wouldn't say anything.'
'I think you should listen to your husband more often, Maggie.'
'I know, but I've started now so I might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb! You have nothing in common. The poor girl has obviously never had anything to do with people like us...'
'"People like us.'" Ethan repeated the words slowly. 'I never had you pegged as a snob, Maggie.'
This accusation was huffily denied. 'I'm not sure you did a kind thing, marrying her. She was obviously uncomfortable tonight—I felt quite sorry for her.'
'Your pity wasn't prominent when you brought Catherine into the conversation at five-minute intervals.'
'Here with you it's only natural to think of Catherine; you were a pair. She was your social and intellectual equal, Ethan. I don't know how you can bring yourself to—'