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Authors: Henrietta Reid

BOOK: Bird of Prey
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“And now may I have an explanation of how this happened?” he demanded grimly.

His air of authority left Dick in no doubt that he was in the presence of the master of Longmere. His manner held an air of apology as he said, “It was this kid, sir.”

As Randall’s eyes turned in his direction Robin, sobbing, hurled himself into his mother’s arms.

“Oh, my poor darling,” Grace cooed, clutching the sullen and unrepentant Robin. “Did he get a horrid fright?”

“It was he who set the others off,” Dick was beginning, when Grace broke in, turning to Caroline.

“Really, Caroline, I shouldn’t have let Robin come if I hadn’t counted on you to keep things in control.” Then as her eyes rested on Dick’s handsome, troubled face she added silkily, “But then, no doubt, there were distractions.” For a moment there was an awkward pause. It was only too obvious what she was implying. “To think that poor Robin might have been burned to death, just because your mind was elsewhere, and—”

“Just a minute, Grace,” Randall cut in, “let’s get to the bottom of this. What exactly happened?”

He was addressing them both, but Caroline, silenced by Grace’s outburst, left Dick to do the answering.

She was to regret that she did so when, to her amazement, she heard Dick say, “Perhaps Caroline was just a mite too easy-going. Of course, it’s very difficult to keep a crowd of kids under control, but if she’d taken things in hand a little earlier I think it could have been prevented. I know,” he pursued with a slightly aggrieved air, “I was doing my best to keep them entertained. But, as I said, if rowdiness isn’t nipped in the bud it spreads through a crowd of children like wildfire and then there’s no handling them. I can’t be expected to do my act and keep them under control at the same time. All the same,” he concluded with an air of magnanimity, “I think a great deal depends on personality and, let’s face it, and no blame attaches to Caroline for it, but she’s the self-effacing sort of

t
yp
e
.”

So, impressed by Randall’s quiet air of authority, Dick was

subtly laying the blame on her, Caroline was thinking indignantly.

Grace laughed sardonically. “On the contrary, I’d say she’s anything but negative when it comes to men! I’d say the reason for the accident was that you and she were much too engrossed in each other to pay attention to the children—and after all, that’s what you’re being paid for, isn’t it?”

The virulence of her attack silenced Dick momentarily and in the hiatus that followed Caroline felt herself raked by Randall’s keen eyes. In spite of herself she knew that she looked selfconscious and guilty.

As it was obvious that the party was now a complete debacle, Dick smoothly took over and, showing his undoubted gift for organization, shepherded the children out to the mini-bus. Many of them were sobbing hysterically and as Caroline saw them drive off she knew that soon the stories of the terrors of the afternoon at Longmere would be spread through the village—no doubt with many embellishments.

As Grace, in high dudgeon, drove Robin away, a feeling of dire depression gripped Caroline. The relationship that had been growing up between herself and Randall seemed suddenly to have evaporated. She returned to the dining-room and gazed about disconsolately. Apart from the confusion and disorder that were the inevitable aftermath of a children’s party there was the blackened tree in the ashes, the splintered baubles.

She was standing gazing down at the tangled debris on the hearth when an arm was flung about her shoulders.

“Don’t look so disconsolate,” Dick said cheerfully. “ ‘The best laid plans of mice and men,’ and all that sort of thing! I mean, after all, it was only a kids’ party!”

“Perhaps! But it was my job to see that it ran smoothly. All the same, Dick, don’t you think it was a bit unfair to lay the blame on me?”

“Lay the blame on you?” he repeated incredulously. “My dear good girl, whatever made you think that? On the contrary, I pointed out that you’d made every effort to make things go with a bang. ”

Did he really think that his words had impressed Randall with

her competence, she wondered, or was he consciously devious? The thought made her shrink instinctively.

As though sensing her reaction he tightened his hold on her shoulder. “Well, have you thought over my little proposition?” “What proposition?” she asked evasively.

“Oh, you know perfectly well! All about you and me joining forces. Don’t give me that girlish stuff about this being so sudden: people in our positions can’t afford that sort of play-acting.”

“So you think it’s play-acting to want to be in love before you marry a man?”

“Now don’t get me wrong! If we couldn’t stand each other, naturally I shouldn’t suggest the scheme—even on a strictly business basis, and after all, you are a very pretty girl, Caroline.” She flushed. Had her girlish crush on him then been so obvious? she thought with dismay. Did it mean that she was unable to dissimulate? Were her feelings for Randall blatantly obvious to all those about her?

“Have I given you the impression that I’m still crazy about you?” she asked sharply.

“Well, no,” he admitted. “I can’t say you’ve been particularly dewy-eyed as far as I’m concerned—but then you’re older and wiser, and girls learn to hide their feelings—especially when they realize that flinging themselves at a man’s head pays no dividends.”

She bit her lip. “In that case, it’s just as well I’ve learned to play-act, as you call it.”

He nodded affably. “Yes, I must say I like a woman with a bit of polish, someone who plays it cool and doesn’t show her hand too obviously. Let’s face it, Caroline, you and I are two of the world’s workers. We’ll have to earn our living, so we may as well do it as comfortably as we can. You can stay on here after we’re married until I get into my stride. Once we’re in the big money, of course, you can chuck up this.” He looked about appreciatively. “Not that I’ve anything against it: it’s pretty lush, but not my cup of tea; a bit too antiquated and old-fashioned. The kind of set-up I’d like for myself will be very different. Well, what do you say, old girl?” He put his face close to hers and rubbed his cheek against hers with the wheedling charm that was second nature to him.

Exasperated by his smug assumption that she would be glad to accept this role in his life, she was on the point of pulling away when Randall’s voice broke in. Caroline felt herself stiffen as she heard the tone of contempt in which he said. “When you’ve quite finished. Caroline, perhaps you would get this place cleaned up! ” His tone was peremptory as one speaking to a menial, and again Caroline saw Dick dart her a puzzled and inquiring glance. “I’ll see to it immediately,” she said hastily.

“I think you’d better. Mrs. Creed will take a dim view of this, considering she’s busy with the preparations for tomorrow evening’s party.”

Dick rubbed his hands appreciatively, glancing around at the sombre gilt-framed portraits on the walls. “It’s certainly the correct setting for ye olde yuletide festivities! I can see it all: the firelight glittering on the silver and crystal: the ancestors looking down benignly on the candlelit table! ”

Randall laughed shortly. “I’m afraid I’ll have to disabuse you concerning my ancestors: they were anything but benign—and I’m afraid I inherit their lack of cordiality.”

She saw that for once Dick was looking discomfited. Had he not expected Randall to see through his efforts to obtain an invitation to stay on? she wondered.

Randall, however, abruptly put an end to such expectations. “And now,” he added coldly, “I’m sure you’ve a train to catch. You may as well come into my study and we can settle up your business affairs before you leave. Be sure to drive him to the station, Caroline! ”

Caroline gazed at him resentfully. By treating her friend in this cavalier fashion he was subtly conveying his disapproval of her.

To Caroline’s discomfiture, as Randall went out, Dick showed no signs of following him but wandered vaguely about the room, kicking abstractedly at the papers on the floor. Instinctively she knew that he was going to bring up again the subject which had engrossed him during their drive to Longmere. Why on earth, she thought exasperatedly, should he assume that she was still the dewy-eyed schoolgirl as far as he was concerned? It meant that she would have to disabuse him of his plans for a business marriage, as she mentally termed it.

She could not foresee that Betty’s arrival on the scene would create a very different situation.

Betty’s presence was announced by the door bursting open suddenly: she stood in the entrance, her round cheeks crimson with suppressed rage.

“So the master says I’ve to come here and help you clear up,” she announced at the pitch of her voice. “Your ladyship’s too fragile, I suppose, to do it on your own.”

Caroline had a swift vision of Dick with his mouth hanging open, and realized that she was helpless to stem the girl’s vituperation. Not that there was much point, she realized helplessly, in trying to keep up her pathetic little sham of being Randall’s social secretary. She no longer cared how she appeared in Dick Travers’s eyes: she had lost all desire to impress him from the moment he had tried to lay the blame for the disastrous ending of the children’s party at her door.

Brush and shovel in hand, Betty advanced into the room, glowing malignantly. “All right, get a move on: don’t stand there with your eyes wide open. What do you think you are—an ornament or something? Oh, no doubt you’ve got all sorts of fancy notions about yourself since the master gave you the room beside his own, but just keep in mind you’re no better than the rest of us, no matter what airs and graces you put on!”

“Just a minute,” Dick intervened pompously. “What do you mean by speaking to Miss Downes like that? You get on with your work here and leave her out of it. Has it not occurred to you that, as she’s Mr. Craig’s social secretary, it is not her business to clear up after a children’s party?”

It was Betty’s turn to look amazed. Her jaw dropped. “Whatever do you mean, social secretary?”

If only Dick had sprung to her defence with the same alacrity when Randall had demanded an explanation of the debacle of the children’s party, Caroline was thinking dryly.

“What do you mean by social secretary?” Betty was asking again, puzzlement momentarily overcoming her truculence.

“Well, isn’t that her position here?” Dick demanded impatiently, “to make arrangements for Mr. Craig’s appointments; his social affairs—that sort of thing? It’s obvious she can’t be expected to do the domestic chores as well.”

As light dawned on Betty she gave a shrill peal of derisive laughter. “So that’s what she’s been telling you!” Betty’s eyes glinted malignantly, and she leaned on her brush with an air of determination. “Well, let me tell you something—no matter what stories she’s been feeding you with, no matter what airs she’s been putting on, she’s no better than the rest of us. She came to Lynebeck looking for a job at her cousin’s, Mrs. Brant’s, and when she was slung out she was picked up at the railway station by the master, who thought she was a parlourmaid who’d applied for a job here at Longmere. That’s how she came to be here in the first place. But just because the master fancies a pretty face, and put her in a room beside his own, she’s got notions of herself! Thinks he’s taken a fancy to her and that she’ll end up as Mrs. Randall Craig some fine day! ” Betty wagged her head contemptuously “Well, she’s some hope! Oh, the master might fancy a bit of fun and games, like his father did, but it’s not the likes of her he’ll marry in the end. No, Mrs. Brant is going to be the mistress of Longmere, and, mark my words, she’ll see that Miss High-and-Mighty is flung out on her ear before she takes over here! ”

Caroline saw Dick’s face grow taut with shock. He stared at her unbelievingly. “Is this true? I mean, that he actually picked you up at the railway station?”

She nodded wearily. Somehow it no longer seemed to matter whether Dick thought well of her or not. In spite of his air of easygoing bonhomie, he had revealed himself as narrow and snobbish and a stickler for the conventions which he pretended to despise. “What Betty says is true. I’m simply one of the staff.”

Dick cleared his throat. “And this business of giving you a bedroom beside his own?”

Again she nodded. “Yes, it’s quite true—as Betty says, I’ve probably got notions above my station.”

But the contempt in her voice was lost upon Dick. He glanced at his watch frowningly, obviously anxious to bring an end to the distasteful conversation. “I’d better see Mr. Craig and settle up the business side of things and then I suppose I’d better be on my way. As to your driving me to the station, don’t bother: I can order a taxi.”

That arrangement would be easier for Dick, Caroline was thinking dully. It would save him the discomfort of being in her company during the drive. Did he think, she wondered detachedly, that she would be bound to bring up the subject of a future marriage? No doubt he was bitterly regretting now his offer and fearful that she was going to importune him.

But his hasty attempt to withdraw from the situation somehow aroused in her a perverseness that she did not know she possessed.

“Oh no, as a member of Mr. Craig’s staff, I intend to carry out his wishes: he’s asked me to drive you to the station, and I shall do it, of course.”

Dick shrugged. “Just as you wish,” he said coldly, as he turned and left the room.

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