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‘There's no alternative,' she said, with a sudden sense of loneliness. She would miss Emlyn's buoyant impudence almost as much as she would Evan's quiet strength and assurance, and the more she thought of it the more unhappy she became.

'
You don't want to go, do you?' he asked, breaking into her reverie, and she smiled, gently disengaging her hand.

'
It's the penalty of doing a job like mine; you have to face the fact that it's unwise to become too attached to a place or a person; sooner or later you have to leave both.' She shrugged off the mood that threatened to envelop her and smiled, determinedly cheerful. 'I shall accept Doctor Neath's invitation to stay with him for a few days and then I shall have to find another job.'

'Another patient to fall in love with you?' She shook Her head.

'No, I think in future I shall stick to nursing old ladies and children. It will be a lot less complicated.'

'It would be a shocking waste,' he declared. 'You're a wonderful encouragement for a man to get well—look what you did for me. What greater incentive is there for a man to get well than a beautiful blue-eyed blonde?'

Helen laughed. ‘A dark-eyed brunette?' she suggested, and he joined in her laughter.

Tracey came again that day, as she came most days, walking with him and the two of them laughing at some secret world of their own so that Helen felt her own loneliness more than ever as she watched them. 'Tracey is staying to lunch today,' Emlyn told her, 'and don't warn Evan in advance or he'll only make a fuss.'

Helen thought the accusation a little unfair, but she complied so far as not seeking Evan out to tell him; she did, however, manage to be coming downstairs as he was leaving his study and he waited for her to join him.

'
Evan.' She put a hand on his arm as he would have moved away towards the door of the room when Emlyn and Tracey were waiting and he stopped, looking down at her curiously. 'Tracey is staying for lunch; Emlyn asked her and she's in there with him now.'

'
I see.' He glanced at the closed door and then back to her, the ghost of a smile round his mouth as if he knew the reason for telling him. 'And you were afraid that I'd make a fuss about it?'

She shook her head, uncertain quite why she had forewarned him; only that she suspected at the back of her mind that Emlyn had some other reason than the obvious one for asking Tracey to stay today, a thing he had never even mentioned doing before. 'I didn't think you would,' she said, 'but Emlyn was a little afraid you may take exception to her being here.' She smiled up at him, her blue eyes unmistakably anxious, wanting him to treat the girl fairly, not only for Emlyn's sake but for her own as well, since she had been responsible for her being here. 'I think the poor girl's afraid of you.'

'After our last meeting, it's possible, I suppose,' he said with no sign of regretting the fact, and she frowned.

'It's inevitable!' she retorted. 'I'd be petrified in her place!'

To her surprise he laughed. 'Not you,' he said. 'You've never been afraid of me, have you? Despite the way I used to growl at you sometimes.' He covered the hand on his arm for a moment. 'Don't worry, Helen, I won't behave like a boor and I might even apologize to her, should the opportunity arise.'

'I don't think I would if I were you,' Helen advised. 'You might frighten her more than ever.'

He looked at her for a moment in silence, then continued across the hall to the door.

'Let's go and be sociable,' he said.

Tracey and Emlyn looked up when the door opened and Emlyn smiled at his father a little uncertainly. It was obvious that there was something on his mind, for he was more nervous than Helen had ever seen him and he seemed anxious that he should have his father's approval. 'Hello,' he said brightly. 'Tracey's staying for lunch. I hope you don't mind.'

Evan returned the smile, looking at the girl who stood beside Emlyn, her eyes downcast. 'Why should I mind?' he said blandly. 'Hello, Tracey, how are you?'

'
All right now, Mr Davies, thank you.' Helen detected far more of the sing-song accent of her parents in her voice than was usual; it was obviously a nerve-racking experience for her and Helen's heart went out to her. She knew from her own experience just how overpowering \Evan could be. Emlyn held the girl's hand reassuringly and something in his smile when he looked at her gave Helen a clue as to why he had asked her to stay to lunch.

Mrs Beeley served them as usual and conversation was on general lines with Tracey saying little and Emlyn contributing most, with a bright nervousness that betrayed his intention even further. As soon as the housekeeper had brought in coffee and left them for the last time he looked at his father and reached across to take Tracey's hand, drawing it into both his own and holding it tightly as if he needed to have close contact with her before he could voice what was on his mind.

'
I've asked Tracey to marry me,' he said at last, nervously loud, and Helen saw Evan's fingers tighten on the handle of his cup.

'You've asked
Tracey
to marry you?' he echoed, and Helen hoped the girl had not noticed the stress on her name.. Emlyn nodded, smiling at the girl briefly before he turned his gaze back to his father.

'
Yes. This morning; I haven't asked her parents yet, but I shall as soon as I can get down to see them. I wanted you to know first.'

'
Will they consent?' he asked the girl, and she visibly shrank before the black-eyed gaze he turned on her, but she nodded.

'I'm sure they will, Mr Davies, they like Emlyn very much.'

‘You're very young,' he said, and sounded almost gentle as he looked at the thin, pale little face and wide eyes as if he really saw them for the first time.

Emlyn looked up sharply, taking the words for criticism. 'Not as young as my mother was,' he said, and Helen instinctively put a hand on Evan's arm, feeling the muscles tense under her fingers, waiting for the storm to break, but to her surprise and relief it did not.

‘No,' he admitted quietly; ‘not as young as your mother was.' The tension might not have existed for all the calm voice betrayed, and Helen marvelled, not for the first time, at his self-control. She drew back her hand and he turned and looked at her briefly with that look she had seen only once before and then only because she had surprised him. It made her feel warm and suddenly lighthearted.

There had been no explosive scene as Emlyn had apparently expected and as soon as they were able he and Tracey went out into the garden. That the sun had come out again after days of rain seemed a good omen and Helen smiled as she walked to the window to look out at the mist-shrouded mountain. There would be few more opportunities to see the brooding giant that dominated the house and the surrounding countryside and she sighed unconsciously, realizing yet again how much there was that she would miss when she left for good. Glyntarrach had become a way of life to her and it would take a great deal of effort to readjust and learn to live elsewhere.

At least, she thought, Emlyn and Tracey would be happier for her having been here; she had been right to brave Evan's disapproval and broach the subject with him, there could be no doubt about that now.

‘You're pleased about it?' Evan's voice recalled her and she half turned from the window to smile at him rather wistfully, It was no longer remarkable that he seemed to know what she had been thinking; so often he had given voice to a subject she had had on her mind.

'
Yes,' she said, 'I'm pleased about it. Aren't you?'

'
If he's happy,' was his non-committal answer.

'
He will be,' she assured him. 'Tracey is a nice girl and they're very much in love.'

'Which is what you prescribe as the main ingredient for marriage,' he teased, reminding her of their conversation, when it had been Emlyn's love for her that had been the subject under discussion.

'I still say so,' she insisted, ‘no matter what the cynics may say.'

'And
you count me a cynic?' She shook her head.

‘No, you're not a cynic; you have too much compassion for that. It shows in your books,' she added hastily.

'
I never knew you'd read any of my books.' Why he should be so surprised at the idea she could not say.

‘I've read most of them,' she told him, 'but “ The Wild Hills” is my favourite.'

‘Hmm,' he said. ‘You're more flattering than my son, he hasn't a very high opinion of my efforts at all.'

She smiled, turning back to the window again momentarily. 'Emlyn can't always see straight,' she said, 'but I think he's on the right track now, at least as far as love and marriage are concerned.'

'Then let's drink to love and marriage, shall we?'

She started when a glass was put into her hand and looked down at the amber glow of brandy. He raised his glass to her, his eyes as unfathomable as ever and she answered the salute by raising her own glass before swallowing some of the contents, feeling the spirit flow into her slowly, making her feel relaxed and warmly glowing and perhaps a little less gloomy than she had been. Now, she thought, she must tell him that she would be leaving at the end of the week; now was the right time, while she felt warm and relaxed and not so sorry for herself.

'
I—I shall be going at the end of this week,' she said without preliminaries.

‘Going?' He echoed her as Emlyn had done and with as much surprise, as if the idea had not even entered his head. ‘Going where?'

She turned and looked at him, facing the scrutiny of the black eyes with something like an appeal in hers. Now, she thought, now the die is cast and there is no more wondering what his reaction will be.

'
I shall be staying for a few days with Doctor Neath, then I shall have to find a new job.' Just as she had told Emlyn; only he had not hesitated to voice his opinion of her going. He had voiced his reluctance, not merely stood in silence as if it mattered neither one way or the other.

'
You'll be seeing Owen Neath?' She looked startled at the sudden question and he shook his head before she could reply. ‘No, I'm sorry; I have no right to ask you that.'

'I shan’t be seeing Owen,' she said, ignoring the apology, 'not as far as I know, anyway; I may see him at some time in the future. I really don’t know.' She drank more of the brandy to dispel the sudden chill of finality she felt when he did not speak. 'I thought it best to tell you now so that I can go at the weekend.' He still stood silently, looking at her until she felt she would cry out. She found the black-eyed gaze unbearable and turned again to look out of the window, moving right into the curve of the bay, her back to him so that he would not see the blank misery on her face. 'That should make you happy,' she told him with deceptive lightness. 'It means that Emlyn is completely well and that you can have your house free of strangers again.' She laughed shortly. 'You should be quite pleased to be rid of me, you were all for sending me packing the first day I came here, I remember.'

She sensed him move behind her and found her breathing deepened until she felt she would suffocate. ‘Was I?' he asked. ^

‘Oh, yes! You tried very hard to get rid of me that first day, and you almost succeeded, I might add.' He was so close now that, she could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck when he spoke, stirring the soft wisps of hair that curled there.

'But you didn't go.'

'I almost did,' she said, speaking too quickly so that the words had a breathless sound. 'So often when you —when things went wrong I almost packed up my things and went; I don’t really know why I stayed.'

'Don’t you?’ His hands were strong and gentle, caressing the nape of her neck, lifting the tendrils of hair, and he turned her slowly towards him until his palms were against her throat, making her look at him. For a fleeting moment she saw that look again in his eyes, and then his mouth found hers, forcing her head back against the curve of his fingers and she felt herself fall against him until they seemed so close that she could not tell which heart beat in her own breast.

'Evan—' She tried to move in his arms, but he held her so tightly she could not stir, so she buried her face against his coat, the rough tweed prickling her cheek, feeling his lips against her hair and neck, and he laughed softly above her head.

'Don't you trust me?' he teased, and she raised her head to look at him, his black eyes warm with that look that sent a shiver of excitement through her.

'Of course I trust you,' she told him, her eyes shining unbelievably blue while he stroked the soft gold hair back from her face. 'But what will Emlyn and Tracey 'think if they come back?'

'
I
don't care what anyone thinks,' he told her with his customary arrogance, and added hastily, 'except you, and I don't want you to have too much time to think, my darling, or you may change your mind about me.' She shook her head quickly and he smiled. 'I'm not wrong about you, am I, Helen? I don't think I could take it if I was.'

She shook her head again smilingly. 'No, you're not,' she said softly. '1 love you.' She traced the outline of a lapel with one finger. 'What are we going to tell Emlyn?' she asked.

'First things first,' he told her, and lifted her chin to look into her eyes. 'Will you marry me?'

'Of course I will,' she said. 'I've told you I love you and you know my theory on that. But—'

He kissed her lightly, his eyes glistening black as coals. '1 love you,' he said. '1 don't think I got around to telling you, did I?' She shook her head, making a face at him for the omission and he laughed. 'I think I'd have agreed to Emlyn marrying anyone as long as it wasn't you.'

'It very easily might have been if I'd listened to him in the first place, he was very persuasive and he says he's still
half
in love with me even now.'

He stared at her. 'He told you that? Cheeky young devil! He always did expect to have his cake and eat it too.’