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Back on the road Brad’s voice broke into the silence. ‘I’m afraid I owe you an apology.'

Laura looked at him wide-eyed. Brad apologising! What had he to be sorry about? It was she who should express regret for bringing him out on such a nasty night.

'I thought Jarvis had had the petrol gauge mended, or I'd have told you to check. As soon as I heard you'd broken down I knew what was the matter. There was a can of petrol in the boot for such an emergency— although I doubt if you thought of that ?’

Laura, who had been considerably moved by Brad’s apology, felt a spurt of anger at this last unreasonable supposition.

Of course I didn’t look for petrol when the gauge showed half-full—I did check that—and I also checked the leads and plugs.’ Let him think she knew a little about mechanics, thought Laura defiantly. It was just like him to accuse her of ignorance without ascertaining the true facts.

'I see,' he muttered, ‘is your arm very painful?’

A change of tactics, thought Laura. If he hoped this would make her forget her annoyance he was mistaken. ‘You’re not really concerned,' she grated icily, ‘but if it makes you feel any better, yes, it does hurt.’

She felt him look at her. 'I'm sorry,' he said, his voice oddly gentle.

'I'll bet you are,' retorted Laura, determinedly keeping her voice cold, although she could feel herself weakening at the softer tones. ‘I can’t imagine you feeling sorry for anyone.’

He drew in his breath sharply, and Laura immediately regretted her impulsive words.

‘Is that what you think? I know I don’t compare very favourably with Philip, but I didn’t realise I rated so low in your opinion.’

Laura winced at his biting retort, but knew that if she spoke now she would only make matters worse. She took refuge in silence.

‘Frightened to admit it?’ he jeered. ‘Miss Templeton at a loss for words ! I never thought it would happen.’

Fortunately he could not see the hurt on her face, or the tears glistening on her lashes, and the next few miles were travelled in silence. Stealing a glance at Brad, his face faintly visible in the light from the dashboard, Laura noted his compressed lips and tightened jawline, and wished achingly that he would be nice to her—just once. She was tired, oh, so tired, of his cold-hearted manner and harsh words.

Brad pulled up as they reached Leastone Hall, jumped out and opened Laura’s door before she had time to touch it herself. Puzzled by his thoughtfulness and wondering what was coming next, Laura slid from her seat and walked beside him into the house.

A worried Jenny waited in the hall. ‘Laura, are you all right? I’ve been worried sick since George Richardson rang.’

‘Of course, Jenny. I’ve hurt my arm, that’s all, so silly of me.’

Laura winced as she eased off her coat, not noticing that Brad watched her. The next moment he was at her side helping with deft, gentle fingers. The touch of his hand on her arm felt like fire and she pulled sharply away, certain he would notice her quickened pulse and heightened colour.

He frowned as she withdrew, muttering under his breath, 'You needn’t make it so obvious that you dislike me; and turned away towards his study.

Jenny glanced from one to the other as if aware of the undercurrent lying between them and wondering what it was all about, but Brad closed his door without a backward glance and Laura headed towards the stairs. The housekeeper hastened after -her. ‘Would you like me to help you undress?’ she asked kindly.

‘I’ll manage, thank you,’ said Laura, pausing to smile at Jenny.

Then I’ll bring you up a hot drink. I shan’t be long,’ and she bustled away towards the region of the kitchen.

In her room, as Laura somewhat painfully undressed, she could still feel Brad’s touch on her arm and was oddly puzzled by his attitude. It was almost as though he was hurt by her reaction, but that was ridiculous. She sometimes wished she
had
the power to hurt him, as he so often hurt her. She was still puzzling over this when Jenny came in with hot milk and biscuits.

The housekeeper hovered by Laura’s bed, seeming reluctant to leave, straightening sheets and covers which did not need straightening and finally asking the question which had evidently been troubling her.

‘I couldn’t help but notice that there’s something wrong between you and the master. He doesn't blame you for what happened?’

‘No,' smiled Laura, ‘of course not. It’s just—that we don’t always see eye to eye.’

‘Who does?’ said Jenny. ‘But it looked more than that to me.’ She looked keenly at Laura. 'You wouldn’t be falling in love with him by any chance?—Oh, I know you’re engaged to your fancy London friend, but I can’t see that working out.’

Was her love for Brad so apparent? thought Laura in dismay. If Jenny had noticed, how about Brad? The answer did not bear thinking about; she would have to be more careful in future.

‘Me—in love with Brad ?’ she echoed. ‘Why, he makes no bones about the fact that he doesn’t like me—I'm only waiting to finish my contract, then I’m leaving.’

‘Oh no, miss,’ Jenny looked horrified, ‘you can’t do a thing like that. Whatever would the master do without you? Why, when George Richardson telephoned to say you were hurt, he looked very upset. He had his coat on and was waiting long before George arrived.’

Laura thought about this, and the look on his face a few minutes earlier—then dismissed the idea as preposterous. ‘You’re wrong, Jenny, I’m sure. It was his car he was concerned about, not me.'

The housekeeper shook her head. ‘I only know what my eyes tell me, but then perhaps I imagine things. Is there anything more you’ll be wanting tonight?’

‘No, thanks, Jenny, I’m all right now,’ smiled Laura.

Once the housekeeper had left Laura sipped her milk, her mind dwelling on Jenny’s words. Suppose it was true that Brad had been worried about her? The idea was tantalising, yet she could not accept it. Apart from the usual polite enquiry that anyone would make, he had shown little interest in her well-being.

Feeling warmed and comforted by the hot drink and a little easier now that the tablets were beginning to take effect, Laura slid between the sheets, falling almost immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The weak rays of a wintry sun filled her room when Laura awoke the next morning. She looked at her watch, disturbed to find that it was nearly ten. Why had she slept so late? Why had no one called her? As she tried to sit the pain in her arm told her. It felt so stiff she could hardly move, and she was wondering how she was going to manage to wash and dress when Mrs. Jennings entered, carrying Laura’s breakfast on a tray.

‘Jenny, you shouldn’t! Why didn't you wake me?’

The housekeeper smiled—a smile which seemed to say 'I was right’.

‘Mr. Stuart said you’re to stay in bed this morning. It’s Sunday anyway, so there’s nothing for you to do.’ Laura looked warily at Jenny. ‘What’s made him so thoughtful all of a sudden?’

‘I’m not as hard as you might think.’ Brad appeared in the doorway and Laura flushed hotly, immediately aware of the flimsiness of her nightdress, trying unsuccessfully to pull the sheets up to her chin.

Amusement flickered across his face, his eyes deliberately lingering on her body. ‘I won’t stay long,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing worse than cold bacon and egg. I merely wanted to make sure that you obey my instructions.'

Obey his instructions! Laura felt like jumping out of bed. Who was he to say what she should do? He might be her boss five days a week, but today was her own and she resented being ordered about. She looked at Jenny’s inscrutable face, back to Brad’s half-smiling one. and realised suddenly that she hadn’t the strength to get up. His look had turned her legs to jelly, and what was more aggravating, she knew that he was aware of it. She only hoped that he’d put it down to the fact that he’d seen her so immodestly dressed and not guess at the true cause of her feelings.

He spoke again. ‘How’s your arm this morning?’

‘It’s very stiff, but I expect it will wear off as I use it.' She looked down, noticing for the first time the purple bruise covering almost the whole of her forearm.

‘I think you’d better have a few days’ holiday,’ he said gently. ‘There’s nothing that won’t wait,’ and with that he was gone, leaving Laura extremely surprised by his consideration.

‘What did I tell you?’ smiled Mrs. Jennings. ‘You can’t say now that he’s not concerned.’

‘Probably for your benefit,’ said Laura, her mind refusing to accept the fact that Brad could spare a thought for her health.

‘Hmph,’ snorted the housekeeper as she placed the tray on the bed, ‘some people don’t know when they’re well off,’ and she departed, her stiff back displaying her disgust.

After Laura had finished her breakfast she spent the rest of the morning reading, enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of lying in bed. At mid-day she decided to wash and dress ready for lunch. It would take her considerably longer, hampered as she was by her arm.'

She was in the hall when the telephone rang. It was Helen. An excited, breathless Helen. ‘Guess what? Philip’s asked me to marry him. Oh, Laura, I’m so happy.’

‘I’m happy for you, too,' said Laura. ‘I expect now you want me to tell Brad that—’

‘Well, yes,' cut in Helen. ‘I was going to ask. You said that if—'

'I know. Of course I’ll tell him, I’ve been meaning to for days. Do you want a word with him?'

'Please. I intend staying here for the rest of the week —I hope he won't put his foot down.’

‘I shouldn’t think so, said Laura, and then as Brad came into the hall, ‘here he is now.'

As she entered the dining-room she heard his voice raised in anger. Apparently he did object, confirming her decision that he was a most unreasonable man. A thunderous expression on his face, he followed her into the dining-room. The meal was eaten in silence; now was not the time to tell him about her and Philip, she decided. It would only give him another opportunity to vent his anger and irony on her.

After lunch he disappeared and Laura did not see him again that day. The next morning Mrs. Jennings told her that he had gone away for a few days.

Laura’s immediate impression was that he had gone to fetch Helen back—until she realised he could not do that, Helen was over the age when he could dictate to her—this was probably what rankled, she thought drily. But it was strange he should leave without saying where he was going. Most unlike him.

Laura spent the week exploring the grounds—weather permitting. When it rained she curled up by the fire with a book, and as soon as her arm felt easier she finished knitting the jumper she had started.

It was Saturday before Brad returned. He seemed in no better a mood and shut himself away in his study. The same happened on Sunday. It was not until after tea, when the front door opened and Helen and Philip burst in, that he emerged to see what the noise was about.

As soon as Helen saw her brother she darted towards him, waving, her hand in the air.

‘Look, darling ! We’re engaged.’

Brad’s eyes glittered like the diamond she held beneath his nose as he looked from her to Philip and finally to Laura.

'I don’t think I understand,' he said coldly.

HELEN clapped a hand to her mouth, looking at Laura in alarm. Barely perceptibly Laura shook her head before saying lightly to Brad, ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you? Philip and I decided not to get married after all.’ Brad’s eyes narrowed. ‘I see,' he said slowly. ‘At least, I think I do.’ He looked across to where Helen now stood holding Philipp hand. ‘Congratulations—I think this calls for a drink.’ He eyed the younger man guardedly. ‘I hope you’re sure this time?’

'Oh yes,’ said Philip, pulling Helen’s hand through his arm and looking at her affectionately. 'I'm perfectly sure.'

They moved into the drawing-room, and after Brad had poured drinks Helen suggested he fetch Mrs. Jennings so that she too could join in their toast.

'I'm frightfully sorry,’ she said to Laura as soon as the door had closed, ‘I thought you’d told him.’

'I didn’t have a chance. But don’t worry, it doesn’t matter. It was probably easier this way.’

'I expect he thinks me all kinds of a rotter,’ said Philip, but Laura could tell by his smile that he didn’t really care. He was too much in love to let other people worry him.

Laura kissed him quickly on the cheek. ‘I hope you’ll both be very happy.’

The evening passed pleasantly, if with a certain amount of restraint on Brad’s part, but it was a relief to them all when he excused himself early on the grounds of work.

'A little while later Laura herself said good-night, guessing that Helen and Philip would like to be alone for a while. She was surprised to see Brad’s study door open and as she passed he came out. ‘I’d like a word, with you,’ he said softly, standing back for her to precede him into the room.

Laura wondered what he wanted that could not wait until morning. She was soon to find out. He indicated one of the armchairs near to the fire, sitting on the other one himself. I’m sorry,’ he began gently.

Frowning, Laura waited, wondering what he had to be sorry about. He had done nothing to upset her.

‘I rather suspected that something like this might happen,' he continued, ‘but—you—did you know that Helen and Philip were—?’

‘Yes,’ nodded Laura. ‘And there’s no need to feel sorry for me. It’s just one of those things.’

'You poor girl, he leaned forward, taking her hands in his, I can see now why you’ve been so upset recently. You knew all along what was happening, yet you put Helen’s happiness before your own. If it weren’t for the fact that it’s my sister who’s involved I’d tell him exactly what I think of him. As it is I want to spare her any more misery, and it’s you I’m worried about at the moment.’

He stood up and pulled her to him, his arms sliding round her back and holding her gently but firmly. Laura lifted her head. She must explain. But his lips were on hers, softly, tenderly stemming her words. For one heavenly moment Laura responded, allowing herself to enjoy the exquisite pleasure of his kiss before fully realising what she was doing. Then she pushed him from her with the strength born of desperation, and
with cheeks flaming she rushed from the room.