The Prospective Wife (6 page)

‘The usual things,’ she responded, gruffly evasive.

‘Like a husband, children, nice house in the suburbs…?’ he speculated. ‘The traditional female things.’

His patronising attitude really got under her skin. ‘Those being things that no man worthy of his testosterone would desire…?’

‘How many teenage boys would list becoming a father as one of their ambitions…?’ One dark brow quirked scornfully when she didn’t respond. His broad shoulders lifted expressively. ‘I rest my case.’

‘It’s just as well one gender feels the urge to procreate or the human race wouldn’t last long.’

‘Men feel urges, all right, but it’s impregnation and not procreation that drives them,’ he explained crudely.

Kat felt herself blush like an adolescent; the fact her blushes seemed to amuse him only intensified her discomfort. She couldn’t figure out how what had started out as a perfectly innocent conversation had degenerated into something so uncomfortable.

‘Perhaps I have a higher regard for your own sex than you do.’

‘Then more fool you, Kat. Fidelity is an alien concept to the vast majority of men.’

‘Perhaps, Mr Devlin, you judge all men by your own failings…’

‘I’m an arrogant male, Kat. What makes you imagine I think I’ve got any failings?’ he drawled. His deep laughter rang out once more before his brows drew into a disapproving line. ‘And I thought we’d dispensed with the
Mr Devlin.
’

Kat’s tongue ran nervously over the outline of her dry lips.

‘Do I make you nervous, Kathleen?’

Wasn’t that the idea?

It was the one question she would have liked to avoid, and he’d made her face it. Resentment reflected in her eyes, she met his deceptively innocent blue gaze warily… He made her incredibly jumpy and had done from the first moment.

‘It’s hardly surprising that I don’t feel comfortable,’ she responded carefully. ‘You’ve made it quite clear I’m here under sufferance.’

Casually he flicked her softly rounded chin. ‘When you know me better…’

‘I can hardly wait!’ she mumbled.

Her face averted, Kat brushed some invisible specks off the dark grey trousers she wore beneath a white tee-shirt. She rose smoothly to her feet. It ought to give at least the illusion of superiority to look down at him… It didn’t. The slow charismatic grin that split his lean face held her dismayed gaze as surely as Superglue.

‘You’ll know I’m not big on forbearance. You’re not here because I feel charitable. It’ll be interesting to find out if you’re half as good as you say you are…’ He watched the colour mount in her cheeks. ‘Professionally speaking, of course,’ he added smoothly.

She couldn’t wait to prove her worth to this sarcastic swine… Of course, if she could have done it from the comparative safety of the neighbouring county, she’d have been even more eager! Inexplicably, she couldn’t concentrate all that well in the same room as him… Inexplicable, my foot! a small derisive voice in her head scoffed. You can’t keep your eyes off him and you’re worried to death you won’t be able to hide it when things get tactile.

‘When did you have in mind?’ she asked, her voice brisk to the point of brusqueness. ‘I’ll need to assess your capabilities, to begin with,’ she explained stolidly, ‘and work out a schedule that suits us….’

Matt rose with creditable style to his feet, unassisted. ‘There’s plenty of time for that later…’ He turned his wrist and glanced at the metal-banded wristwatch. His eyes moved to the antique gilded ormolu clock set on the mantelshelf. ‘Still slow,’ he confirmed, comparing the two times. ‘I knocked it off with a football when I was a kid; it’s never kept time since.’

In her mind’s eye Kat softened the hard angles of his face and came up with a soft childish version. Had he been a serious little boy, or a bit wild…?

‘I’m afraid I’m expecting some visitors…business. Later, I’m all yours.’ There was nothing childlike or innocent about the gleam in his eyes.

‘There are a lot of things we need to discuss,’ she choked, pulling her wayward imagination in line—it wasn’t easy.

‘Discuss away…I can give you three minutes.’

‘How kind,’ she bit back acidly. ‘I’d better talk fast then, hadn’t I? For starters, what hours do you expect me to work? When is my free time…?’

‘You’ve not started yet and you’re already asking for a day off…!’ He shook his head in mock reproof. ‘What happened to stamina? What happened to dedication?’

‘What happened to reasonable working conditions?’ she came back smartly. ‘I already feel as if I’ve been on duty for a twenty-four-hour stretch…’ Just talking to this man was amongst the most exhausting things she’d ever done.
‘I wonder why?’
No wonder Drusilla had laughed when she’d said she’d earn her money!

‘Fine; let’s get down to basics. I’m flexible. I don’t like to tie myself down to specific times; I like people around me to be flexible too.’

‘Which means what, exactly?’

‘Which means I need you to be on twenty-four-hour call.’

Have no time to call her own? Be at his beck and call night and day with no time off for good behaviour…? That was
so
not on!

‘I think you’ll find they abolished slavery some time ago.’

‘I’ll pay you well…if you’re good enough.’

‘Your mother is paying me,’ she reminded him.

‘I’ll treble whatever she’s giving you.’

‘That’s absurd!’ she gasped.

‘But tempting?’

Kat’s anger intensified. He sounded as if he thought everyone had a price. ‘It’s not a matter of money.’

‘I thought that you were broke?’ he reminded her languidly. ‘To lie well, you need a good memory.’

‘I wasn’t lying!’ she flared. ‘I am broke.’

‘Then I’m the answer to your prayers.’

‘Your touching modesty must make you friends wherever you go,’ she gasped, unable to totally repress the quiver of amusement in her voice… The man had arrogance off the scale. ‘You may not need to sleep…’

‘
Need
doesn’t enter into it. I
can’t
sleep, full stop.’

He looked just as surprised that he’d told her this as she had been to hear him admit it. Insomnia implied a weakness and, as far as she could tell, Matt didn’t admit to those.

‘What did the doctor say…?’ she began.

‘I thought I’d made my opinion of drugs clear to you…’ He looked as though he wouldn’t need much encouragement to tell her again.

‘You have. There are other ways to treat insomnia.’

‘
I know….
Then perhaps we should compare notes.’ She didn’t need the addition of his suggestive, husky laugh to realise this was a loaded comment.

‘Relaxation techniques, for instance,’ she persisted doggedly.

‘You do seem tense,’ he agreed.

Kat gritted her teeth. ‘I’m perfectly relaxed!’ she yelled.

‘Of course you are.’

‘I’m willing to be reasonably flexible up to a point. I expected that, living in, but I can’t possibly be on call twenty-four hours.’

‘Why? Is there some boyfriend in the background who gets stroppy if you neglect him…or family commitments…?’

Her expression darkened. ‘There’s nobody,’ she said flatly.

Matt’s eyes narrowed. He recognised no-go signs when he saw them. Was Kathleen running away from a disastrous love affair…?

‘Then where’s the problem?’ His tone implied she was unreasonably creating problems where there weren’t any. ‘Good. That’s settled.’

‘I didn’t agree to anything.’

‘But you will do after a bit more fencing. I’m just saving time. Incidentally, you were wanting to assess my capabilities…’

Puzzled by the reference, she nodded.

‘Most people think I’m capable of anything.’ He grinned down into her startled face, picked up a cake off the plate and crammed it whole into his mouth. He jammed open the door with a crutch.

Matt raised his voice. ‘Send Miss Macdonald and Mr Smith into the library, will you, Mrs Nichols?’

On cue the doorbell rang.

I wonder how he does that?

‘And, Mrs Nichols, will you have my things moved again? Miss Wray thinks I should sleep downstairs.’ He turned back to Kat.
‘Satisfied?’

Kat refused to be thawed by the charm in his smile. The memory of how it had felt when he’d forced her down on her knees beside him kept popping into her head at the most inconvenient moments; this resulted in her nervous system being in a constant state of painful alert. She pursed her lips in disapproval.

‘You should be resting, not entertaining.’

‘This is business, not pleasure.’

‘That’s even worse!’ she exclaimed in an appalled voice. ‘You should be taking things easy.’

Matt gave a long-suffering sigh. ‘Try and keep your maternal inclinations under control, Kathleen,’ he advised in a bored drawl.

Kat gave a gasp of outrage and went bright red. Her hands curled into small fists; the awful man had as good as called her
mumsy.

‘I can assure you,’ she choked, ‘that I don’t feel even
vaguely
maternal towards you!’

Matt’s wicked grin flashed out. ‘I thought not, but it’s nice to have it confirmed.’

Kat was left to massage the stiff muscles of her neck, and think wistful thoughts about hospitals, boring routine, and patients who hadn’t started shaving!

LATER that evening, Kat was sitting reading—or at least
trying
to read—in her room when there was a discreet knock on her door.

She got up off the bed and almost guiltily smoothed the quilt. ‘Come in,’ she called self-consciously.

The housekeeper appeared. She smiled in a friendly way at Kat.

‘I was just wondering, miss, if you’d like a tray in your room? I’m going to have my supper in the kitchen. You can join me…?’

Kat gave a sigh of relief. She’d needn’t have worried that she’d be expected to dine with Matt.

‘Please, it’s Kat…’ She smiled warmly at the older woman.

She was glad now that she hadn’t given in to the foolish, vain impulse of changing into something less functional on the off-chance that she’d be summoned to provide a sparkling dinner companion for Matt. I’m the hired help, and, she told herself stoutly, glad of it!

What girl with an ounce of sense would want to dress up in a skimpy frock and sit across from the most scandalously good-looking man in the world?

‘I’d like that—to eat with you, that is. I was beginning to feel a bit lonesome.’ This seemed the time to come clean. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m not really up to speed with this upstairs-downstairs stuff.’ She wrinkled her small straight nose and gave a rueful smile.

‘Oh, don’t worry, my dear,’ the older woman responded, leading the way down the well-lit hallway. ‘You mustn’t feel you have to stay in your room. We’re not at all grand here…’

That rather depends, Kat thought, responding to this soothing news with a strained smile, on what you’re used to.

‘That’s the way Mrs Devlin likes it. There’s only me and Mr Edwards, a couple of girls who come in from the village and the gardeners. Mrs Devlin is very fond of her garden. Cook’s retired; she has a cottage in the grounds, but she always comes in if we’ve got guests; she wouldn’t like it if we got anyone else.’

‘Yes, the garden’s very beautiful.’ Kat cleared her throat. ‘I was wondering,’ she began casually—it would never do for anyone to realise she felt the urgent need of a chaperon, ‘will Drusilla—Mrs Devlin—will she be home tonight?’

The housekeeper led the way down the wide shallow staircase. ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ she called over her shoulder. ‘Mrs Devlin always gives us plenty of notice if she intends to stay with us.’

Kat’s knuckles whitened against the graceful curve of the banister. ‘But I thought…’ Kat, aware that the other woman, who was waiting for her to catch up, had begun look at her with a curious expression, forced herself to relax. ‘I thought this was her house.’

‘Well, it is…at least on paper, though of course it was Mr Devlin senior who was brought up here,’ she explained chattily. She gave a furtive glance over her shoulder as if to confirm there was nobody lurking in the corners with a recording device. ‘I think it was for tax reasons he had it put in Mrs Devlin’s name,’ she hissed with conspiratorial candour.

‘So Mrs Devlin doesn’t live here herself.’ It seemed incomprehensible to Kat that anyone could keep a big, fully staffed house like this one empty.

‘Heavens, no. They live in the Castle.’

Of course, the Castle…
Where else?
Kat gave a sick-looking smile. I’ve been lulled here under false pretences, she thought indignantly!

She was working in luxurious surroundings, for a man who was the stuff female fantasies were made of, and she was being paid a small fortune for doing so! Her plight was going to elicit her a lot of sympathy!

For the first time she started to think Matt’s more fanciful notions about his mother might not be entirely the result of a fevered imagination.

‘They used to spend most of the school holidays here when young Mr Matthew was a boy. Mrs Devlin had a strict rule—no business talk, she used to say. I don’t know what she’d make of that.’ The housekeeper gave a snort of disapproval and glanced towards the closed oak-panelled door; they were passing the library as she spoke.

‘Mr Devlin is still…?’

The older woman nodded.

Kat clicked her tongue in exasperation. God, but that man had the sense of a sparrow on a suicide mission, she thought angrily!

‘They’ve been in there the whole evening. He asked for sandwiches to be sent in. Cook was most put out, I can tell you.’ Kat began to feel uneasy that they’d not progressed past the offending door. ‘He looks dead on his feet.’

‘He does?’ The way the housekeeper was looking at her made the sinking feeling in her stomach get worse.

‘I’d get short shrift if
I
tried to tell him.’

‘He wouldn’t listen to me!’ Kat protested weakly.

‘You’re
medical.
’ The housekeeper produced what she obviously felt to be her trump card.

Kat gave a sigh and resigned herself to the inevitable. She resented being placed in this position; she hadn’t come here to be a nursemaid. Her anger was aimed at Matt, not the housekeeper.