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Caroline hesitated. The last time she had seen Mark was two years ago, and she was still not sure she wanted to see him socially. What would Matt say if he knew she had once hoped to marry the man who was engaged to his ward?

But she was over him now, and it was foolish to let him affect her decision about accepting Matt's invitation. Matt. She looked at him quickly, as always affected by the sensual curve of his mouth and the determination of his chin. He was a man of strong will, and she shivered at the thought of having him weak in her arms. Yet before that happened,
she
would have to be the weaker, and if she were ...

'Well,' he said, breaking into her thoughts, 'are you free or not? I'm going up tomorrow—about six.'

'I'd like that.' She rose. 'Until tomorrow, then.'

Taking the hint, Matt stood up too. 'Don't forget to bring a bikini—and your chastity belt!'

Tidying up the sitting-room after he had gone, Caroline reflected over all she had learned about Matt.

After the unhappy experience of his marriage it was not to be wondered at that he was cynical. Obviously he was wary of women, seeing them as schemers out to catch him and marry him—as she was!

Caroline stopped dead in the centre of the room. It was the first time she had admitted how deeply she had become involved with Matt. I love that arrogant, self-centred bastard, and I'm pretty sure he loves me, she thought. But how can I get him to admit it? She frowned. To make Matt admit it might not be so difficult, but to get him to ask her to marry him was the problem.

The following evening when he came to collect her, Helen and Mark were in the car. Helen managed a frosty smile, but Mark's greeting was warm and friendly.

'It's nice to see you after all this time,' he said. 'You're looking prettier than ever. I seem to see your face on every magazine cover and hoarding.'

'Not quite every one. I only wish it were.' Caroline took her place beside Matt, delighted that the sight of Mark left her totally unmoved. It was salutary to remember how deeply she had thought herself in love with him. With hindsight she knew she had been too young to know her own mind. With Matt it was different. In five weeks he had become part of her life, and she hoped he would never walk out of it.

The three of them chatted amiably on the drive down to Berkshire, Helen remaining silent. She was obviously annoyed that Caroline was coming with them, and made no effort to hide her feelings.

Matt's house was larger than Mark's had been, and infinitely nicer. Georgian in style and graciously proportioned, it stood in about four acres of gardens, the rest of the land being run as a farm. They walked under arched porticoes into the main hall where the floor was tiled in black and white marble squares, and a beautiful arrangement of summer flowers stood on the green marble top of a large gold ormolu table. The heady scent of the flowers filled the air, as Matt proudly showed her the main reception rooms that ran along the back of the house and overlooked the terrace and gardens. She noticed several valuable paintings, though he did not point them out. He might be naive in wanting to show off his lovely house, but he was too intelligent to make any comment on his art collection.

But leading her up the galleried staircase, he pointed to some imposing portraits.

'My ancestors!' he said solemnly.

'All of them?' she asked equally solemnly.

'Of course.' He grinned. 'I bought them with the house, though you'd be surprised at the number of folk who actually believe they're my relations!'

'If you married me,' she pointed out sweetly, 'they might well be!'

'That's too high a price to pay,' he chuckled, and Helen who was standing behind them pursed her lips and stalked past them up the stairs.

Matt appeared not to notice his ward's behaviour, or if he did, he ignored it indulgently. But Caroline was very aware of her dislike, and this was in no way dispelled during the rest of the weekend.

Her bedroom was as well appointed as any luxury hotel, the piece, de resistance being a fourposter bed covered in the same flowery fabric as the curtains. The en-suite bathroom also contained three different bottles of expensive scent, a hairdryer and a telephone in arm's reach of the sunken bath. Caroline was not at all surprised to find slightly perfumed soapy water running out of the gold-plated taps. Guests had no need to even trouble themselves about washing in anything as mundane as a bar of soap!

After changing into a long black skirt and white satin shirtwaister blouse, she made her way down to the drawing-room where the rest of the party were gathered for pre-dinner drinks. She accepted the tomato juice that Matt poured for her, and seated herself on a wing chair.

'That's a bit unsociable,' Helen remarked, noticing Caroline had no alcohol added to her drink.

'Caroline only likes champagne,' Matt explained.

'Expensive taste, Caroline,' Helen commented.

'Not if one has rich boy-friends,' Caroline said sweetly.

'Caroline's never been short of those,' Mark interposed hastily.

'Did you two go out for long?' Matt asked.

'They were nearly engaged,' Helen informed him, then looked at Caroline. 'I've never been told why you broke up. Mark is very discreet about his past affairs.'

'It was never an affair,' Caroline said firmly. 'We were only friends.'

'You don't need to worry, darling,' Mark said to his fiancée. 'Caroline was always a career girl.'

Caroline longed to deny it, but diplomatically said nothing. She glanced at Matt, and saw he was frowning. She wondered if he was jealous, and hoped he was.

'Let's have dinner,' he said, pulling Caroline to her feet.

They ate an excellent meal, served by the housekeeper's daughter, Grace, who with her mother, Mrs Gordon, was the only resident staff kept at the house, extra help coming in on a daily basis. Fortunately most of the conversation centred round the forthcoming trip to France, and Caroline learned that Helen would be joining them too.

'She can't bear to let me out of her sight,' Mark joked, 'but if she'd only set the date for our wedding she wouldn't have to worry about my running off with someone else!'

'Nonsense,' Helen replied shortly. 'Who's heard of an errant fiancé? It's only when they become husbands that one starts to worry!'

'See what I'm up against,' said Mark, looking at Matt.

'It's not my fault,' Matt said. 'I keep telling her to marry you, but she thinks I'm incapable of managing without her.'

'Then find a replacement for her,' Mark suggested.

'I'm working on it.'

Helen snorted. 'Most of the women you go around with wouldn't have the faintest idea of how to manage you.'

'You're a treasure,' Matt agreed. 'But your obligation is to Mark.'

'Here, here!' chided Mark. 'So what about naming the day, Helen?'

'I'll think about it,' she replied, and pushed back her chair. 'Let's have coffee in the drawing-room.'

No sooner were they settled when Matt put on some tapes, and the melodious voice of Ella Fitzgerald soon persuaded them to dance. Matt held Caroline firmly round the waist as he guided her round the room.

'You do something to me,' he said, echoing the words of the song, but she knew what he was referring to. She saw Helen watching them and pulled slightly away. There was something in the girl's cold glances that disquietened her, spoiling what could otherwise have been a perfect evening.

'I hope you don't mind if I have an early night?' she asked.

'I do. But if it means you'll be fighting fit tomorrow ...' His lips nibbled her ear. 'I never like to take advantage of a woman unless she's in prime condition!'

'I get the impression you're not particular what lambs you lead to the slaughter!'

'How wrong you are—I choose them with great care. So don't count sheep before you fall asleep tonight!'

Caroline was still chuckling as she prepared for bed, though Matt's comment confirmed her opinion that he was still too much in command of his emotions to let them take hold of him.

She woke early to find the sun blazing, and donning a bikini under her sundress, went down , to the pool that glinted like an aquamarine some hundred yards from the house. Matt was already there, and she felt a rush of tenderness for him as he strode over to greet her. In brief trunks he looked even more virile than she had imagined, the muscles rippling across his chest and his legs firm and strong.

'We're the early birds, it seems,' he said, kissing her lips lightly.

She wriggled away from his hold. 'You're not going to catch your worm yet! Go in the pool and cool off.'

'Yes, my lady!'

He dived into the water, then surfaced. 'Aren't you coming in?'

Caroline nodded, and did so, climbing down the steps.

'Don't you dive?' he asked.

'Not any more. I slipped a disc a few years ago and I have to be careful.'

It was eleven o'clock when Mark and Helen joined them. The girl wore a minuscule bikini that showed off her rather full figure. Sourly she eyed Caroline's slim one, though it did not deter her from tucking into the lunch Mrs Gordon' served them on the terrace.

'I suppose you have to diet because of your job?' Helen asked Caroline.

Matt burst out laughing. 'She only does so between meals. I've never known a girl eat so much.' He leaned across and stroked the satiny skin of her shoulder. 'It's a good thing we're being watched,' he whispered. 'But next time I'm going to invite you here on your own.'

Caroline didn't rise to the bait, still determined she was going to be one fish he didn't hook.

The afternoon and the next day passed quickly. The weather held and they swam late on Sunday afternoon for the last time. Then Caroline packed her things and went down to the kitchen to thank Mrs Gordon for her wonderful meals.

'It was a pleasure to cook for you, my lady. If you come again just let me knew if there's anything special you'd like.'

'I will,' Caroline promised. 'But perhaps you can tell me if there's anything special Mr Bishop likes.'

'He's pretty easy, really, except for his allergy.'

'His allergy?'

'He can't eat chervil. I happen to know about it because I used it once in a casserole. It was soon after I started working here. I thought I'd get the sack for sure. Poor Mr Bishop! He was in bed for three days. They had to keep him under sedation to stop the itching, and until the swelling went down.'

She gossiped on for several minutes, and only stopped when she heard Caroline's name being called. It was Matt, and Caroline hurried into the hall.

'I'm just going to change,' he informed her. 'I won't be long.'

'Don't worry about me. I'll browse through some magazines.'

She went into the study and picked up the latest copy of
Country Life.
As she did so Helen came in.

'Oh, here you are. I wanted a word with you,' the girl said. 'You need to be put straight on a few things.'

'About our trip to France?' Caroline replied, deliberately misinterpreting her.

'About Matt,' Helen said irritably. 'Don't read too much into this weekend. He won't marry you, you know.'

'Thanks for telling me!'

'It's for your own good.' Helen's dark eyes were hard. 'He was married before, and it left such a scar that he'll
never
marry again. I wouldn't be telling you now if I didn't think it wiser for you to know. I've broken my word by '

'Don't worry about it,' Caroline interrupted. 'Matt
's
already told me the story.'

Helen looked so surprised that Caroline wanted to laugh, then with an angry murmur the girl ran out of the room. Caroline tried to see her dislike as a good omen; only the fear that Matt might be falling in love would have provoked Helen into such an indiscretion.

They reached London at midnight. Helen barely spoke during the journey, though as usual Matt appeared not to notice her uncivil behaviour. Caroline hoped this was not a foretaste of what their stay in France was going to be like, but decided not to mention it to Matt. Guilt at having piloted the plane that had killed Helen's parents must still cause him to turn a blind eye to her tantrums.

Matt escorted her to the front door of her flat. 'I'm tied up tomorrow night,' he said. 'But I hope you're free on Tuesday?'

She immediately wondered what he was doing on Monday, but knew better than to ask him. What she didn't know was whether to make herself available on Tuesday.

'I'll be working late myself on Tuesday,' she murmured.

'I'd like to see you, even if it's only for an hour. Phone me as soon as you're free.'

She did so, and he came over to the flat at nine-thirty, took her to a quiet restaurant and brought her home before midnight. Sensing her tiredness, he hugged her close and made no attempt to do more.

'I like you in this mood,' he said. 'There's no fight in you. I'm not afraid of getting a clip to the jaw!'

'But you're not taking advantage of it.'

'I'm a gentleman fighter.' He unlocked the door for her and pushed her through it. 'Go in quickly before I change my mind.'

Caroline's feeling of contentment was shattered by her brother, who came to see her on Thursday morning. She had not seen much of him during the past few weeks, though they had spoken on the phone, and he knew she was seeing Matt.

'I can't stay and talk,' -she said. 'I'm due at
Vogue
in an hour.'

'So you'll be a few minutes late. I have to talk to you.'

'What have you done?' she asked fearfully, hearing the urgency in his voice.

'I borrowed some money from Uncle Bill for a business venture. When it fell through I didn't give him the money back.' Tom nibbled at his lip. 'I started gambling with it and lost the lot.'

Caroline looked at her brother with distaste. Joan and Bill Coleman had acted as surrogate parents to them from the moment their own had died. They had given them a far more expensive education than they could afford, even though it had meant considerable financial sacrifices to them. In recent years Uncle Bill had amassed a small amount of money, and it was disgusting of Tom to take advantage of it.

BOOK: Unknown
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