Deception (5 page)

As
the fever slowly left him she thought his unconsciousness changed to a
more natural sleep. But it wasn't until after six in the morning, when she
awakened from an
exhausted catnap in a chair, that she found
him watching
her.

'Who
are you?' he asked abruptly, all traces of fever
washed from his
eyes as they met her tired ones. 'I could
still be having
hallucinations, of course. Maybe you don't
really exist?'

So
he didn't recognise her! He had no recollection of her
looking
after him or anything else? Coolly she tried to meet
his
enquiring gaze, knowing suddenly that she could never match this man in
anything. Whatever she attempted to do,
or think, he would always
be one step ahead of her. This
knowledge on top of what she had
already suffered at his
hands was almost too much. She might easily
say something
she would live to regret if she didn't have
time to pull
herself together. Closing her grey eyes
defensively against
the icy green of his, she made an abortive
bid to do just
that.

It
proved a futile exercise. As though relentlessly bent on making her talk, he
said thinly, 'If you were a naiad or
a witch from the bogs of
the moor, I could understand
your silence.'

'How
do you know I'm not, Mr Murray?' Her eyes flew open again as she challenged him
flady, 'Your mind might
be still playing you tricks.'

This,
curiously enough, seemed to starde him as his eyes narrowed and his powerful
shoulders stiffened against the
mound of pillows she had
stuffed behind his back. 'Have I
been out long?' He spoke
as if he was quite familiar with
the fever which had laid him low.

'I
don't know how long.' She pushed back her long fair
hair
which had tangled in sleep about her shoulders. Un
certainly
she got to her feet. 'I've only been here since last
night.
You were ill then, but how long before that I don't
know. Jamie didn't
say.'

'Jamie?'
His mouth tightened and he ran his hand over
his forehead, in a gesture which was
becoming familiar. 'Is he all right?'

'I think so.'

'For God's sake, girl,
answer me!'

'Mr Murray,' looking
very young and indignant, Thea tilted her chin, *you have no call to speak to
me like that!'

'Women invite it. You
seldom give a straight answer to a straight question.'

'As far as I know your
son's in bed.'

Murray's eyes darkened
with harsh anger. 'If I was capable of leaving this bed, I would shake
you, madam, or put
you over my knee. I
think the latter would be more in keep
ing with your age.'

What age would he have
judged her to be through the night, when he had forcibly kissed her? Would he
have judged her response that of a child? Her cheeks suddenly hot, Thea thought
not 'You don't realise' she began to protest.

'What I do realise,'
he cut in ruthlessly, 'is more than enough. I come to, to find a complete stranger
in my room, sitting in front of a fire which I certainly didn't light, and no
sign of my son. Do you think I'm being unreasonable in demanding an
explanation? If you do'then I must be going out of my mind.'

'You have been.' She
felt guilty for allowing herself a little satisfaction over that. He was so
authoritative he would naturally hate any blank spaces in his life, when he
wasn't wholly aware of what he was saying or
doing. Yet a
frown replaced her moment of triumph as she watched him
shifting impatiently. She could never hope to fight him. Even in bed he looked
superior. But, perversely, this didn't prevent her reiterating with unwonted
relish, 'Right out of your mind!'

His dark face hardened
aloofly. 'Don't enjoy yourself too much at my expense. The boot could soon be
on the other foot.'
 
  

Thea's
quick temper flared. There's no need for sarcasm,
Mr
Murray, or threats. Let me tell you, if it hadn't been
for
me you wouldn't have recovered nearly so quickly.'

'I
suppose angels of mercy usually blow their own trum
pets.'

'Better
than sitting in heaven playing a harp, as you
might have been
doing if I hadn't been here,' she retorted
sharply, although she
doubted if Mr Murray, with his black
visage, would have gone
in that direction. 'You really
needed me.'

'Your
opinion?' he dismissed it indifferently. 'I've
weathered other
bouts of malaria without having my hand
held.'

Immediately,
because she wondered what he would say
if she confessed that
worse had happened than that, her
face flooded with colour
and she turned her head away.

'So
that was too near the bone?' His eyes glittered on
her
averted face. 'One of these minutes—or will it be days
—you
might be willing to tell me exactly what you've been
up to. And,
incidentally, your name '

This
was too much! She could take contempt and ridi
cule,
if it was deserved and fair, but downright ingratitude was something else
again! Her cheeks still hot, she turned and marched to the bed, forgetting she
wore only his
dressing-gown which flapped about her feet,
unfortunately
detracting from the dignified approach she
had hoped to
make.

'My
name is Andrews,' she said coldly, 'Thea Andrews. I
didn't
expect gratitude, Mr Murray, not even for spending
the
last twelve hours running up and down stairs, with
logs
for the fire I managed to light. Or for bathing your face and giving you drinks
of water, which you couldn't have
managed yourself. But I
don't think I deserve insults!'

His
mouth curled as his eyes went insolently over her, taking in her slim young
body, the high curves of her agi
tated breasts. Her
lengthy comments didn't appear to have
impressed him. 'Women
enjoy ministering to a man when
he's helpless, but they'd
run a mile when he's not. I expect
you're no different from
the rest. Decide what I owe you—
you obviously think it a
lot, and well bring it down to
terms of hard cash.'

Thea
shuddered away from his all-seeing glance, a glance
which
seemed to be making her aware of things she hadn't
been
personally aware of before. It had been the same when
he had held her in his
arms.

Jerking
her mind from this, she retorted quickly, 'You've
already
repaid me with a lump oa my head, along with
other things, when
you flung me across the room.'

A
frown creased his brow, flickering through his eyes.
'What made me do
that?'

As
though it had been her fault! 'I was simply trying to
tidy
your blankets.' She decided not to mention the shirt
and give him more
cause to jeer.

'Because
you couldn't bear the sight of me with nothing
on?'

She
tried to keep cool, to pretend indifference to such
sarcastic
taunts, which she suspected were born more from frustration than anything else.
Outside there must be plenty
of work for him to do if, as Jamie
had said, they had
practically no staff. Having to lie here,
waiting to recover,
would never suit a man like this.

'Well?'
he prompted.

She
took a deep breath. 'This is a bedroom, Mr Murray,
not a beach.'

'Two
places where clothes aren't always necessary,' he rejoined sardonically,
'although you sound prim enough to
be wearing Victorian
nightgowns. Oh ...' with an impatient
groan he fell back, 'my damned head!'

In
alarm, Thea touched his arm, her eyes appealing.
'Please calm
down. You'll only make yourself ill again,
asking a lot of silly questions.'

His eyes hard with
dislike, he stared up at her. 'Can't
you get
it into your head that I'm not asking silly ques
tions ! I want to know what you're doing
here—why you're
in my room,
wearing my dressing-gown, and have ap
parently been given, or taken, the freedom of my house. I
won't always be sick. I don't happen to be a
permanent
invalid, so disabuse
yourself of that idea. In a few hours' time I'll be on my feet and quite able
to remove you from
my premises,
unless you can produce a suitable explana
tion.'

'I
certainly have one!' Yet her indignation was lost in a sudden urge to soothe
him, a mysterious desire she found
difficult to account
for. She had a suspicion that she would
rather see him arrogantly
demanding than helpless. 'I'll tell
you all you want to
know,' she promised recklessly, 'but
wouldn't you like a cup of tea or something
first? It
wouldn't take me long to make one,
and you might feel
better afterwards.'

'Later,'
he conceded, not giving an inch, although his
face was grey
again and damp with sweat. Grimly his eyes
queried her reluctance. 'Well,
I'm waiting.'

Suddenly
she decided to say nothing of her original in
tention
of staying here as a paying guest, nor of being
born at Drumlarig
and remaining here with her mother.
'I'm looking for a job,
actually,' thishad been what she had intended doing, after she'd had a look
around. 'I saw your advertisement for a housekeeper, at the end of your road.'

His
green eyes narrowed, she hoped it wasn't with
suspicion. It
was. 'That doesn't ring quite true, somehow,'
he said softly.
'My road is too far off the beaten track. It
couldn't be an
accident that you were there in the dark.'

Thea
gulped, racking her brains quickly, discovering that even the smallest lie
couldn't be told easily, at least
not by a novice like
herself. 'I heard someone talking about
it, in the village I came
through. Then I asked the way to
Drumlarig.' The last bit
was the truth, at any rate.

'Whom
did you ask?'
 
     

'A
man. I don't know his name.'

This
only appeared to make him more sceptical, but he
seemed to dismiss
it as unimportant. 'So you arrived here and Jamie let you in. He shouldn't have
done.'

Quickly she sprang to the defence of the absent boy.
'That's surely irrelevant, Mr Murray. He's only a child,
after all, and he was frightened. I think he would have
been
pleased to see anybody.'
            
,

Murray
went on, as though she had never spoken, 'Nor
should he have brought you up here.'

'He
wasn't going to until I told him I'd had nursing
experience. Don't
you appreciate how worried he is about
you?'

'Do
you have nursing experience, Miss Andrews?'

Stiffening
resentfully at his tone, Thea muttered, 'What's
the good of asking
questions if you aren't going to believe
what I say?'

Looking
her over again, he shrugged. 'We're both wast
ing
our time. You're much too young for the post of
housekeeper.'

'Really,
Mr Murray, is that fair?' But knowing her age to
be against her,
she hurried on to point out other things.
'You do need someone and
you aren't likely to get another
applicant. Not many women
would care to bury themselves

in an isolated spot like this. The house alone is
'
she had

been
about to say, terrible, but the angle of his jaw warned
her
in time, 'beautiful but inconvenient,' she improvised quickly, 'And I'm sure
I've proved how capable I am.'

'How
old are you?'

Dared
she tell another? 'Twenty-nine,' she answered
rashly. 'I've
always looked young for my age, but I'm
almost thirty.'

'I'd
never have thought it,' he returned dryly, but thank
fully
she saw he was still too weak for forceful argument.
'You're English, of
course?'

'Is
that still a crime in Scotland, Mr Murray?'