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Authors: Lucy Gillen

Tags: #Harlequin Romance 1972

Winter at Cray (13 page)

BOOK: Winter at Cray
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I

m just about sick to death of Darrell and his cockiness,

he told her.

He

s so damned sure of himself.

‘Y
es, I know.

She recalled last night

s incident unwillingly and wondered just how much of it he had seen before Essie blocked his view.


Louise.

There was a wary distant look about him as he sat forward in his chair, so that with the light behind him, his face was in the shadows.

There

s

there

s something I

ve been meaning to mention to you about—about last night.

He looked across at her expectantly, but she sat curled up in her chair, her chin resting on one hand while she gazed into the rekindled flicker of the fire.

Louise
!’
He sounded not only annoyed but surprised at her lack of response.


Yes, Stephen?

She was not, she told herself, obliged to meet him half way. If he wanted to make some comment on what he had seen or thought he had seen, then he must do it without any help from her.


It

s about Darrell, about—dammit,

he exploded when she still made no move to co-operate,

you know quite well what I

m talking about.

She continued her study of the fire.

I presume,

she said at last,

that you

re referring to the fact that you saw Jonathan Darrell in my room last night.


Of course I am,

he retorted.

And I saw enough to believe my own eyes, so don

t try to play the innocent.

Louise looked up, her eyes kindling anger as she thought of her own part in the incident.

Even if I
was
the innocent?

she asked, and wondered just how accurate that was, remembering Jonathan Darrell

s accusation that she had asked to be kissed.

Stephen looked uncertain for a minute, then he ran his hand through his hair again, the resultant tangle making him look far more human, Louise thought.

I

m sorry if I

ve got the wrong end of the stick,

he told her,

but it
was
after midnight and you
were
in

in your nightdress, and unless I

m very much mistaken you
were
kissing him.

He looked at her steadily.

I would have thought that called for some sort of explanation.

Louise clenched her hands angrily.

I don

t see why I
have
to explain to you,

she retorted,

and if you

d seen anything more than a second

s glimpse, you

d realise that
he
was kissing me, not the other way round. You may also be interested to know,

she added with deliberate sarcasm,

that I slapped his face, but you didn

t see that, so probably you don

t believe it.

She saw no reason to explain the sequence of events too accurately, but she had slapped Jonathan Darrell

s face and even the thought of it gave her a certain amount of satisfaction.

He looked sheepish, twisting his long hands together between his knees.

Of course I believe you. I

m sorry again, Louise. If I

d realised the position last night I

d have hit him for you.

Louise smiled wryly.

I

m sure you would,

she allowed.

That

s probably why Essie closed the door so quickly.

He shook his head.

I should have known,

he told her.

I

m sorry.


Oh, please don

t be,

she begged.

I just want to forget the whole thing.


I—I was coming in to see how you were,

he confessed,

but somehow—


You were sidetracked,

Louise smiled.

Not to worry, Stephen, I know you meant to. You really have no need to be jealous, you know,

she added,

Jonathan Darrell isn

t my type at all.

*
*
*

By next morning there was still no more snow fallen and the sky was even a little less sullen than of late, but the wind was bitterly cold and rough enough to stir the sea into a ballet of grey-green and white that swirled and ran all round the tiny island, hurling itself against the rocky coast with furious abandon.


No boat today either?

Essie asked as they dressed, and Louise shook her head, a brush poised above the soft red riot of her hair, as yet unattended.


I doubt it very much,

she agreed.

Are you finding it an awful bore being stranded here, Essie?


I

m not bored at all,

Essie assured her, and there was a knowing look about the smile that she gave her.

Actually I

ve been getting on rather well with your cousin Stephen.

There was speculation in the blue eyes, Louise thought, and wondered if Essie had some idea of retaliating by becoming friendly with Stephen in the hopes of making Louise jealous.


I

m glad you get on well,

she told the blonde girl.

Stephen isn

t always the easiest person in the world to talk to; but he

s interested in so many things and he likes to find a good listener.


I

m a bo
rn
listener,

Essie confessed,

but only when I

m interested in the subject, and I

ve always been keen on political economy, so we have mutual ground.


Political economy?

Louise echoed, and stared at her in frank surprise.

Essie chuckled happily at having startled her.

I studied it among other things at university,

she admitted.

But I

ve never used it.


And then became a magazine photographer?

Louise said, shaking her head; her suspicion confirmed that Essie was not as flighty as first impressions might suggest.

But why, when you have such qualifications? Why waste them, Essie?


Oh, I don

t think they
are
wasted,

Essie told her.

I love this photography game, and the job takes me all over the place. It

s hectic but it

s fun and you meet such interesting people. Like your cousin,

she added with a wicked look.

‘I’m
glad Stephen

s found a willing listener,

Louise smiled,

and if it stops you being bored to death with life on Berren so much the better.


What

s puzzling me,

Essie said slowly and with her eyes fixed on Louise

s face reflected in the dressing-table mirror,

is what

s keeping Jon from being bored to death. Maybe,

she added blandly,

he

s found a distraction too.

Robert insisted on going out after breakfast, although it was still very slippery underfoot and made for rather dangerous walking, but Louise succumbed to his pleas and accompanied him.

Venturing out, she found it less hazardous than she had anticipated and she let Robert run down the steep path to the pier, part way only, calling him back when he became too venturesome. It was when they were returning to the house that Louise saw someone approaching from the direction of the cottages below.

He was climbing the slope, or at least attempting to climb it, finding it far more slippery lower down than it was nearer the house, and even at this distance she had no difficulty in recognising Henri Dupont.


Robert
!’
She called to her son hastily, and he ran up to her, his eyes curious as he too spotted the man on the path.

We

ll go in now,

she told Robert.

It

s getting cold out here.

She sent Robert into the house in front of her and turned to see what progress Henri Dupont had made, and to her relief he appeared to have given up the struggle, for he was now walking with his back towards her, slipping and sliding down the steep incline to the pier. She watched until he reached the bottom of the path, then hastily looked away when the dark head turned and he looked back at her and, although she could not see the expression in his eyes from there, she shuddered involuntarily as she went into the house. She was all kinds of a fool, she told herself, for making so much of the man

s presence on the island.

Her son was talking to Jonathan Darrell when she came in through the door and she felt the colour touch her cheeks when she met his eyes.

Who was the stranger trying to come up the hill?

he asked bluntly, watching her face as she sought for an answer.


Oh, just someone,

she told him, unwilling for Robert to hear too much.

Just—just someone staying in one of the cottages, I think.


Robert said he saw someone,

he said to explain his curiosity, and she nodded.


He

s given up and gone back again.

She hoped she made it obvious that she had no intention of discussing it further.

It was certain, Louise thought the following morning, when she looked out of the window at the thawing ground, that Henri Dupont would come up to Cray today if he intended coming at all, and she sighed as she brushed her hair. He would probably not be so easily deterred by the presence of a third party this time either, even the old lady.

He did not arrive until after lunch and Louise sensed as well as saw Jonathan Darrell

s curiosity when Hannah announced his arrival. There was only Robert, Stephen, Jonathan Darrell and herself in the room and it seemed to Louise that an air of expectancy emanated from all of them at the housekeeper

s announcement.

For a moment Louise hesitated, then she nodded her head and a moment later Henri Dupont walked into the room, his glance going first to the little boy at the window.

Stephen

s face flushed angrily at the sight of him and Jonathan

s eyes narrowed slightly, showing the dark glitter of curiosity. The visitor

s eyes, so like her son

s, were fixed on her face after that first brief glance at Robert and she was reminded of the possible effect such a meeting might have on the boy.


Robert!

she called across to him.

Will you go and find Uncle Colin, please, and stay with him for a while?


Mummy—

Doubt clouded Robert

s eyes and he looked unhappily at the stranger whose features so closely resembled his own.


Will you come with me, Robert?

Jonathan held out a hand to him with a smile, and after only a brief hesitation, Robert went with him while Louise breathed her relief.

BOOK: Winter at Cray
10.57Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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