‘In you go,’ he’d said, and he’d given her the rest of the clothes and a gentle push. He’d had no intention of letting those chains start winding themselves around her mind again.
As she had headed, still reluctantly but obediently, into the changing rooms he’d beckoned to a sales assistant, giving her a particularly engaging smile. ‘We’re going to need a lot more clothes,’ he’d said, nodding at Ellen’s back.
The sales assistant had cast an expert eye over her, taking in the tight, ill-fitting suit. ‘Definitely.’ She had nodded and glided off, returning with a large selection of separates, plus shoes, belts and some costume jewellery.
With a smile at Max, who’d settled himself comfortably into one of the leather chairs conveniently placed nearby for attendant males, complete with magazines about cars and fitness to while away their time while they waited for their womenfolk, she had whisked them into the changing room.
It had taken quite some time for Ellen to emerge...
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘TELL ME,’ MAX SAID, ‘how are you with helicopters?’
Ellen stared. ‘Helicopters?’
‘Yes. I’ve got one on standby,’ he informed her. ‘There’s a property out in the Chilterns I want to take a quick look at, and a helicopter is the fastest way.’
‘I’ve never been in one,’ Ellen said.
Max grinned. ‘Great—a new experience. You’ll love it.’
He bore her off towards the kerb, where his car was hovering. He wasn’t giving her a chance to object, just as he hadn’t given her a chance to run out of that fashion house. When she’d finally emerged from the changing room he’d wanted to punch the air, like he had the night before. And now she had looked—fantastic!
Straw-coloured trousers neatly hugged her trim hips, and a casual cashmere sweater in oatmeal superbly moulded her generous breasts. A long jacket and a swish leather handbag completed the outfit.
Behind her came the sales assistant, with more clothes, and they all totted up to a good half-dozen or more capacious carrier bags.
His driver climbed out of the car to put the bags in the boot as Max helped Ellen into the back of the car.
She was in a daze—no doubt about it. She’d handed over her credit card, wincing at the huge total, but then tightening her mouth in defiance. Another watercolour would have to be sold—but this time she would get the benefit of it.
And it was money well spent—she’d seen that the moment she’d taken in her reflection, seeing not frumpy, lumpy Elephant Ellen but a tall, good-looking, athletic, fashionably dressed woman who could stride through the world with assurance and poise. It was a good feeling—a brilliant feeling!
A bubble of happiness rose in her, as if she’d just drunk a glass of champagne. She was going to enjoy this—enjoy everything! Including the novelty of a ride in a helicopter.
Her eyes widened in excitement as the noisy machine rose into the air, skating high above the River Thames. London became increasingly miniature, and then was left behind as the countryside approached. She gazed spellbound as they flew, then circled over the property Max wanted to assess.
It was another large country house, Victorian gothic in style, and far larger than Haughton. Only then did a shadow cross her eyes, for it reminded her of the danger to her home. Oh, he could buy anywhere he liked—so why insist on buying the one place in the world she so desperately loved?
Conflicting emotions swirled in her. Max had been so good to her, and even though she knew why he was doing it, it did not detract from the gift he had given her.
I will always, always be grateful to him.
* * *
It was a gratitude she voiced yet again that evening, as they dined in the Michelin-starred restaurant at the hotel.
‘All I’ve done, Ellen,’ he said, and smiled, ‘is show you what was always there—that’s all. You’ve always been like this—but you hid it. And now you don’t any more. It’s as simple as that.’
His eyes washed over her, liking what they saw. She was wearing the teal-blue dress he’d instinctively known would suit her, and it did—much to his satisfaction—and her hair was loosely gathered into a chignon at the back of her head. Her make-up—another purchase that day—was not as striking as it had been for the ball, but it gave her smoky eyes and long lashes and a soft, tender mouth...
He dragged his gaze away, returning to his study of the wine list. The arrival of the sommelier diverted him some more, and when he was done with his discussion and selection he turned back—to find Ellen looking around the dining room and getting the attention from male diners that she well deserved. He was glad to see it—it would do her good.
All the same, he reached out to touch her arm, with an atavistic instinct to show the other males she was spoken for.
Her gaze came back to him. ‘So, will you buy that place you looked at this afternoon?’ she asked.
As she’d glanced around the room she’d become conscious that she was being looked at by other men, and whilst it had given her a little thrill of confidence in her new appearance it had also, with her not being used to it, been somewhat disconcerting. She was grateful to have Max with her. He seemed...reassuring.