Winter at Cray (23 page)

‘
Jon,
’
he corrected her gently, bending to kiss her tearful face,
‘
and if you cry I shan
’
t bring you roses again, so dry your eyes, hmm
?’

‘
But how did you get them?
’
she asked, and he laughed softly.

‘
You can have flowers sent anywhere in the world now, you know,
’
he told her.
‘
Essie fixed it up for me after she left here. She had a wait during her journey and she found a flower shop that belonged to the group who run the scheme. Hey presto! All I had to do was to go down and meet the first boat. Mind you,
’
he added with a grimace that made her smile,
‘
I held my breath for fear they
’
d miss the boat.
’

‘
I was always promised red roses,
’
the old lady sighed, and brushed away a tear that Louise was hard put not to emulate.

‘
Well, now you
’
ve got them,
’
he told her softly, and old Emma nodded her head gently, only Louise noticing the black frown that Stephen directed at the donor of the roses.

After the excitement it was thought best that the old lady rested, at least until lunch time, when she insisted on joining them.
‘
I don
’
t intend sleeping my birthday away, my girl,
’
she informed Louise.

‘
I know you don
’
t, darling, but you must rest. Would you like Robert to sit with you for a while?
’

‘
I would,
’
the old lady admitted,
‘
but he
’
d be better off going for a walk with Jon.
’
The shrewd, tired old eyes looked at her speculatively.
‘
They get on well, those two, don
’
t they?
’

‘
They seem to,
’
Louise admitted warily,
‘
and I
’
m not altogether happy about what
’
s going to happen when Mr. Darrell goes back.
’

‘
Well, he
’
s not going back yet,
’
Emma stated firmly.
‘
He
’
s staying on.
’

‘
I know,
’
Louise said shortly.
‘
I wondered why.
’

‘
Because I asked him to,
’
the old lady informed her.
‘
I like having him here and he said he hasn
’
t had a holiday in two years, so why not?
’

‘
Because,
’
Louise explained,
‘
I would have thought Berren was the last place Jonathan Darrell would have chosen to spend a holiday. He described it as a wilderness when he arrived and he
’
s expressed no change of heart since, so far as I know. Anyway,
’
she added,
‘
I really meant, why did you ask him, not why is he staying.
’

‘
Why not?
’
the old lady demanded again, evidently intending to keep her reasons to herself, and Louise smiled her defeat and left her, closing the door quietly, convinced that Emma Kincaid had some devious scheme afoot, though heaven knew what it was.

It was later than usual that night when the old lady went to her bed and she leaned rather more heavily than usual on Louise
’
s arm as she left the room, looking back wistfully as if she hated to see her exciting day end. Louise felt the frail body trembling with emotion as they took the wide stairs slowly, unaccustomed tears rolling silen
tl
y down the small, wrinkled face unchecked.

‘
Don
’
t cry, darling Great-gran,
’
Louise said softly.
‘
You
’
ve had a wonderful day, but you
’
re very tired.
’

‘
I
’
m not tired,
’
the old lady denied automatically, sniffing back the betraying tears.
‘
I don
’
t know why I
’
m crying either—must be goin
’
soft.
’

Louise laughed and kissed her cheek gently.
‘
Not you, darling, you
’
ll be as right as rain tomorrow after a good night
’
s rest.
’

‘
Of course I will,
’
old Emma agreed, and turned an unexpected smile on her for a moment.
‘
I did have a good party, though, didn
’
t I?
And
I had Jon there, despite Stephen
’
s scowls.
’
That,
Louise thought ruefully, had probably given her as much satisfaction as anything.

Louise was on her way downstairs again shortly afterwards when she saw Jonathan leaving the big sitting-room, and the way he glanced over his shoulder at the closed door before he moved across the hall to intercept her suggested that he was hoping to avoid being overheard. She frowned, eyeing him curiously.

‘
Ssh!
’
He put a finger to his lips in exaggerated caution, his eyes glistening with the effects of the champagne they had all imbibed fairly freely, drawing her towards the little sitting-room and closing the door carefully behind them.

‘
What
are
you doing?
’
she demanded, her own head feeling the effects of the unaccustomed wine.

He turned from the door and stood looking at her for a moment in silence, as if he only just saw her for the first time properly.
‘
You look very beautiful in that dress,
’
he told her solemnly.
‘Y
ou should always wear that shade of green.
’

‘
Actually it
’
s blue,
’
she corrected him automatically,
‘
and what
are
you up to?
’

‘
Actually I
’
m not up to anything,
’
he admitted with a grin,
‘
but Stephen would never believe that, would he? That
’
s why I caught you in the hall. I
’
ve been trying to get you alone all day, but you
’
ve been occupied, and this morning when I had a chance we got involved in a discussion about red roses and it went clean out of my mind.
’
A raised brow reminded her of the incident.
‘
I have some good news for you.
’

‘
Good news?
’
She frowned suspiciously.
‘
About what
?’

‘
It
’
s about whom, actually,
’
he corrected her in turn,
‘
but never mind the grammatical pros and cons, I thought you
’
d like to know that Henri Dupont left on the boat that brought Great-gran
’
s r
o
ses over this morning.
’
.

Louise stared at him for a moment.
‘
You—you mean he
’
s actually gone?
’
It was difficult to keep from smiling at the thought, and he nodded, eyeing her curiously.

‘
You look surprised,
’
he told her.
‘
Why, I wonder? I told you he
’
d be going, didn
’
t you believe me?
’

‘
Yes, yes, of course I did.
’
She dared not voice
the
suspicions she had harboured ever since he had rejoined her with that ominous bruise on his chin and an almost rakish air of self-assurance,
‘
It was just that—I could scarcely believe he would leave without
—
well, without making a fuss.
’
Unconsciously her eyes went to the still visible mark on his face and he put a hand to touch it, a look of sheer devilment in his eyes as he laughed.

‘
Not quite without fuss,
’
he admitted, and she shook her head.

‘
I knew—I mean I guessed you
’
d—
’
She stumbled over her words and he laughed again.

‘
We had a brief disagreement,
’
he told her.
‘
He
’
s shorter than I am, but he has a long reach and I didn
’
t duck quickly enough.
’

‘
Did you hit
him
?
’
She did not know what prompted such a display of interest and she was slightly ashamed of herself for it, but the matter had been on her mind so much, and she
had
wondered at Henri Dupont
’
s decision to depart so suddenly.

‘
Only once,
’
he admitted solemnly,
‘
and he didn
’
t duck either, but he
’
ll have nothing worse than a bruise or two to show for it.
’

‘
Oh.
’
Again her relief was unmistakable and he eyed her with interest, while she hoped desperately that he would never guess what had passed through her mind so persistently since she had seen that bruise and tried to guess its implications.

‘
I imagine he had rather a headache when he came round,
’
he added blandly.
‘
That
’
s probably why he didn
’
t leave on the earlier boat.
’

Louise blinked.
‘Y
ou mean you—you actually knocked him out?
’
It was far less than she had been imagining all this time, but nevertheless she viewed it with mixed feelings.
‘
But why?
’

‘
He was rather offensive,
’
he explained calmly,
‘
and in Breton French it sounded even worse—I
’
m afraid I acted on impulse.
’

‘
Oh, I see.
’

He regarded her seriously for a moment, except for the betraying gleam in his eyes.
‘
What did you think had happened?
’

‘
I—I don
’
t know,
’
she admitted, unable to meet his gaze.
‘
Only I knew—I knew he hadn
’
t left on a boat up until last night.
’
She flushed when he arched a curious brow at her certainty.
‘
I phoned Mac,
’
she confessed hastily,
‘
and he told me he hadn
’
t left the island, and as I hadn
’
t seen him again—
’
She bit her lip on just what she had thought, knowing he would inevitably discover what she had suspected and just as inevitably find it amusing.

He looked at her silently for a moment and there was speculation as well as the eternal glimmer of laughter in his gaze.
‘
Louise
Kincaid
,
’
he said, at last,
‘
I do believe you thought I
’
d dropped him in the ocean.
’