Wild Melody (3 page)

But far from being perturbed, he merely smiled faintly.

'I don't think I have much to fear from that quarter,' he said. 'Tell me, why do

you want to see him so urgently?'

'That's my business.' Catriona tilted her chin defiantly.

'On the contrary, you've also made it mine. Besides, his mother has been on

at me for years to take a proper avuncular interest in the boy. Oh, I forgot,'

he added satirically, as Catriona's eyes flew startled to his face. 'I didn't

introduce myself, did I. I'm Jason Lord, Jeremy's uncle.'

'I didn't know Jeremy had an uncle,' Catriona said numbly.

'Well, he didn't tell me about you either, so we're quits. Well, Miss Muir, I'm

waiting.'

Catriona thrust her hands into the pockets of her coat to hide the fact that

they were shaking. She met Jason Lord's scornful grey eyes with a flash of

her green ones.

'In that case he probably hasn't told you either that we're in love and going to

be married,' she said. , He had been lounging rather negligently against the

door, but at that he stiffened instantly. His eyes went over her again, not

with the same contempt as before, but assessing her, almost stripping her,

while the colour rose in her cheeks.

'You're going to marry Jeremy,' he said slowly. 'What in hell's name gives

you that idea?'

'He did. Last summer.'

'Which was a long time ago.' He looked at her wryly. 'And where was

this—er—troth plighted, may I ask?'

'At Torvaig.' He still looked blank, so she explained, 'It's a little village on

the west coast of Scotland. It's not very well known, but Jeremy found it

while he was touring, and he stayed on.'

'I'll bet he did!' There was an almost savage note in the muttered words.

'Now will you let me see him?' she begged.

'No.' He spoke almost reflectively. 'In fact I think it's even more imperative

that you use the other half of your return ticket and take yourself back to

Torvaig and forget you ever knew Jeremy.'

'I'll do nothing of the sort!' she raged. 'I have a right to see him. I've come to

London and I'm staying no matter what you say.'

'Look,' he came to stand in front of her and gripped her

arms tightly,-his eyes bleak as a winter's day, 'I'm telling you for your own

good. Forget him and go home. Can't you take my word for it that it's the

best thing to do?'

'I wouldn't take your word for what day of the week it was,' Catriona said

angrily, and his hands fell away from her so quickly that she swayed a little,

feeling oddly dizzy.

'What's the matter?' he asked.

'I—I'm sorry. It's so warm in here.'

'Not that warm. Have you had anything to eat?'

'I had a few sandwiches on the train.' How long ago that seemed, she

thought tiredly.

'That must have been a great comfort,' he said sarcastically. 'Well, you'd

better take that appalling coat off and come with me.'

'To see Jeremy?' she asked hopefully.

'No,' he said witheringly. 'To have some breakfast before you pass out on

me. I want you leaving here on your own two legs, not carried out on a

stretcher.'

Catriona was just about to fling his insulting offer back in his face when it

occurred to her how hungry she really was and how much better she would

be able to continue the battle if she was fed. So more meekly than she felt,

she allowed herself to be shepherded through the hall to the rear of the

house and a large shiny kitchen.

It was a poem in gleaming ceramic tiles and stainless steel with gadgets

Catriona had only ever seen before in magazine pictures. Remembering the

old-fashioned sink and scrubbed wooden draining board back at Muir

House, she felt a stab of envy. It seemed so unfair that Auntie Jessie had had

to struggle with her work, while this unpleasant man had been living in the

lap of luxury with hardly the need to lift a finger for himself.

'Mrs Birch!' he called, and the woman who had admitted Catriona came

bustling in.

'Can you organise some breakfast for this starving morsel?' He indicated

Catriona with a casual wave of hishand and she went hot with fury. 'Bacon

and at least two eggs, I think. Oh, and porridge of course. She's from

Scotland.'

'Porridge, sir?' Mrs Birch gaped at him. 'Well, I don't know if. .

'No,' Catriona interrupted hastily. 'I don't eat porridge.'

'Heresy,' Jason Lord said solemnly, but he was laughing at her, she knew.

'Well, grapefruit, then, and lots of coffee, Mrs B., and I'll have some as

well.' He turned to Catriona. 'You'll be quite safe with Mrs Birch. I'm going

to finish shaving and get dressed.'

Before Catriona could reply, he vanished.

Mrs Birch was setting out plates and cups and Catriona could already smell

the bacon sizzling in the pan.

'Is there anything I can do?' she asked shyly.

'I can manage.' Mrs Birch gave her a quick glance. 'I should sit down before

you fall down, lovey. You're as white as a sheet.'

Catriona complied shakily. 'I—I've had rather a shock.'

'Well, I wondered, though it's not for me to say. I could have told you he

doesn't like seeing people so early in the morning. And when I saw that

guitar I said to myself, Elsie, I said, she hasn't got a prayer, poor little soul.'

'My guitar?' Catriona echoed bewilderedly.

'He doesn't do musical acts, lovey. It's all current affairs and documentaries.

I thought you'd have known that.'

And as Catriona continued to stare at her in amazement, she tutted

impatiently.

'Well, you do know who he is, don't you?'

'All I know is that he's Jeremy's uncle,' Catriona admitted.

'Lord above!' Mrs Birch cracked the first of the eggs into the pan. 'He's a TV

producer, dear. He does
Here and Now
on a Monday, apart from anything

else. And his documentary on alcoholics last year got an award.'

'I'm afraid I've never seen much television,' Catriona said quietly. 'We didn't

have a set at home.'

Mrs Birch was obviously as staggered by this as if Catriona had suddenly

grown a second head.

'Well, there's a thing,' she said at last. 'And there was me thinking you were

pestering him for a job.'

Catriona coloured. 'Oh, it's nothing like that,' she said.

'I'm pleased to hear it.' Mrs Birch set half a grapefruit frosted with sugar in

front of Catriona and lowered her voice confidentially. 'You see, dear, the

better known he's become, the worse it's got. A lot of girls just think he's the

key to fame and fortune and heaven knows what. He knows so many people

in television, you see, and one word from him can do all sorts. I'm glad

you're not one of them.' She beamed approvingly at Catriona, then turned

back to the cooker. 'Now you get started, because this is nearly ready.'

Catriona had almost finished her eggs and bacon by the time Jason Lord

returned. In a silk-textured dark suit he looked even more forbidding, she

thought, and had to fight an urge to flinch as he slid on to the stool next to

hers at the breakfast bar.

'That's better,' he remarked coolly. 'You're beginning to look more like a

human being.'

Mrs Birch put two steaming cups of coffee down on the bar and hurried out

of the kitchen to her other chores.

'You've placed me under an obligation to you--' Catriona began stiffly, but

he interrupted.

'Then repay it—please—by going home.'

'I have no home.'

'You just thought you'd move in with my nephew.' His tone was glacial

again.

'No,' she answered wretchedly. 'I've told you—we're going to be married.'

He glanced meaningly at her ringless hands. 'You're officially engaged?'

She hesitated miserably,, unwilling to share even part of her precious secret

with this man. Then, very slowly, she undid the top two buttons on her white

shirt blouse and pulled out the silver chain she wore round her neck. There

were two metal objects hanging on it—a small key and a silver ring set with

a cairngorm. A cheap enough trinket, but Jeremy had bought it for her one

day in Fort William.

'Until I can afford a proper one,' he had whispered as he put it on her finger

and kissed her. She had thought she would die of happiness, and some of

that remembered joy lingered in her face as she extended the ring to Jason

Lord in the soft curve of her palm.

There was a long silence. Then, 'I see,' he said in a voice devoid of any

emotion. She looked at him, puzzled, but his eyes were veiled as he looked

down at the thin trail of smoke from the cigarette held lightly between his

fingers.

'You will let me see him, won't you?' Her voice was pleading.

'Yes.' He stubbed the cigarette out with sudden violence. 'Yes, Miss Muir,

you win. I'll take you to him this evening.'

'Not till this evening?' She couldn't believe her victory, but at the same time

this apparently unnecessary delay jarred on her. 'Why not now?'

'Because he's away. He'll be back this evening—his mother's giving a party.

I didn't intend to go, but now I will and I'll take you with me.'

'But I couldn't let you do that,' Catriona said at once. It was not at all how

she had planned to see Jeremy again, at a party against a background where

she would be an interloper. 'I'd be a gatecrasher. And besides, I haven't

anything to wear.'

'The eternal cry of woman, but in your case it could just be true,' he said, his

eyes flicking over her dismissively. 'And you won't, be a gatecrasher.

You'll go as my guest. Marion always expects me to bring a girl-friend to

her parties.'

Catriona felt a quick surge of revulsion at the idea of being taken for his

girl-friend.

'I'm sure there are other people you'd rather take,' she said awkwardly.

'Dozens,' he retorted. Suddenly he leaned forward and his long fingers

brushed the small curve of her breast. Startled, she palled away, feeling

oddly as if she had been scorched by a sudden flame.

'Don't be a fool,' he said. 'Give me credit for a little more subtlety in my

approach than that. I'm just curious to know what this is.'

It was the key that shared the chain with the ring.

'That's just the key of my cashbox,' she said a little nervously.

'Cashbox?' he queried, with raised brows. 'What cash- box?'

So perforce Catriona found herself telling him about Auntie Jessie and the

sale of Muir House.

'So when all was settled I had about two hundred pounds altogether. I spent

some of it t>f course on my ticket and on a taxi today. But the rest is in a box

in my rucksack,' she added, noticing with alarm that he was frowning again.

'You've been carrying all the money you possess in the world around

London with you all morning!' he said with ominous calm. 'And supposing

you'd been robbed? Dear God, girl, you're not safe to be allowed out!'

'I can look after my money and myself,' Catriona said indignantly.

'Can you now?' he said softly. 'So much so that you blunder into a strange

man's flat, make all kinds of demands and stay for breakfast without any

thought of what you might have to give in return.'

'I'm quite willing to pay you--' she began, but he silenced her by placing an

authoritative finger on her parted lips. An odd shiver ran through her. She

had never been touched, she told herself, by anyone she loathed as much as

him.

'But supposing I asked for payment in kind rather than cash?' His eyes held

hers and she was aware that her breathing had quickened involuntarily.

'I'd scream for Mrs Birch,' she found herself saying with amazing calmness.

'You assume she'd be on your side. Well, she probably would. She has a

weakness for waifs and strays.' With an insouciance that infuriated her, he

let the key and ring drop back inside the neck of her shirt. They felt

disturbingly warm from his fingers and again she felt that unaccountable

shiver.

'Well,' he slid off the stool, 'studio for me, and bed, I think, for you.'

'Bed?' Catriona gasped.

'Of course. Don't tell me you got much sleep on that train last night.'

'No—but I can't sleep here.'

'Why not?' he asked. 'And don't start behaving like an hysterical virgin. I've

already told you, I'm going to work. I'll get Mrs Birch to wake you around

two-thirty and I'll be back at three to take you shopping.'

'Shopping?'

'Must you repeat everything I say?' he said with studied patience.

'But I don't need to go shopping.' Catriona thought desperately of her small

store of money. She could not go to Jeremy completely empty-handed.

'Oh yes, you do. You need a party dress,' he said coolly. Before she could

argue, he was gone, and a moment later she heard the front door slam.

Catriona leant on the breakfast bar. Her head was throbbing, and she pressed

her finger tips against her forehead with a little sigh. He was everything that

was detestable, she thought, and he seemed to take a perverse delight in