Green Girl (20 page)

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Authors: Sara Seale

BOOK: Green Girl
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You

re probably right at that, but would the other kids enjoy being patronised? The tenants don

t bob to the quality any longer, even in Ireland, and one must beware of charity.


You

ve got things all mixed up, Duff,

she said.

Heaven knows, I

ve had enough of the sort of charity you mean, but
real
charity is never patronising. Do you think the orphans weren

t grateful for their tree and their presents and all the fun? We never thought for one moment we were being patronised, because everything was given freely and with love.

He put an arm round her shoulders with an involuntary gesture, drawing her to him, and said with gentleness:


Freely, and with love
...
yes, that sums up all the best in life if we could learn to live by it, doesn

t it? You know, Harriet, sometimes you make me feel a little ashamed.


I do? But
why
,
Duff?


You have so much to give, I think, and I—took what I wanted so lightly.

It was a strange admission, she thought, and one that she did not altogether understand.


You—you haven

t taken anything,

she said then, clinging to the literal interpretation of their bond, because she was unsure of his intention.

Are you regretting things, Duff? Because it doesn

t seem to me that I do much here to earn my keep. I don

t even run your house for you.


Earn your keep? Is that how you think of our bargain
?


Well, of course, but so far, all the advantage seems to be mine. I will try to make friends with Nonie if she

ll let me, but you neither of you want the only thing I have to give, and you—you once told me that perhaps you—and Clooney—needed someone like me, but you don

t, do you? Anyone would have done at the time.

His fingers tightened with such, violence on her shoulders that she cried out, but the pressure did not ease.


Perhaps that

s what I meant when I said I

d taken what I wanted so lightly. But if I confuse you, Harriet, you equally confuse me—one minute an ignorant child, the next sending out curious vibrations that in any other girl would be taken for invitation. How am I to know where I stand?

She looked up at him mutely, tongue-tied because she did not know how to answer a question which her own simplicity might well have misinterpreted.


I don

t know the way,

she said, and indeed she did not. That Woman

s Intuition which the magazines and romantic novelists had so airily assured her was the unfailing guide in all such situations was either missing in her, or was not properly understood, she thought.


Don

t you, Harriet? Are you beginning to want a little more than bed and board and gratitude for small services rendered?

He still held her between his hands, and looking up into that dark, ugly face, she tried vainly to capture the right phrase with which to answer him.


I—I don

t understand you.


No, you don

t, do you?

he said, and she thought there was a tinge of disappointment in his voice as he let her go.

Well, you shall have your tree and your children

s party, if that will make you happy, but don

t expect a kind of pantomime transformation scene as a result. I

ve a feeling you

re going to be disappointed.


Oh, no!

she cried, relieved that they were back on territory that was familiar.

Half the fun is preparing, and would you—
couldn

t
you help me with the decorations and things? I know you think it

s all rather silly and unnecessary, but you

re so tall you could reach the places I couldn

t, and—well, it

s so much nicer to be part of something, and share, don

t you think?


Yes, Harriet, I

ll help you—perhaps that will be a beginning,

he said, with a little smile.


A beginning?


Yes, think it over. What was this thing you spoke of just now—the only thing you had to give, you said, that neither I nor my daughter wanted?

She felt herself colouring, but she was too simple to dissemble.


Affection—love perhaps,

she said, and his expression was suddenly a curious mixture of tenderness and surprise.


And did you think I had
no
n
eed of that? Everything given freely and with love, to use your own very revealing phrase,

he said, and bent his head as if to kiss her, but drew back when the three dogs burst into a sudden clamour of recognition or warning and a voice from the terrace shouted gaily:


Hi there! Am I a gatecrasher on the honeymoon, or can I stay for Christmas?

At first Harriet did not recognise the slim young man who vaulted over a stone bench to meet them, but Duff went forward to clap
him
on the shoulder with every sign of welcome, and she knew that it must be Rory Lonnegan.


You old sly-puss—getting yourself married all on the quiet and not even inviting me to the wedding!

Rory was saying.

Lead me to the blushing bride!

Harriet was indeed blushing as the two men came back to her, and she wondered how Duff proposed explaining his sudden marriage to a girl who had come over to Ireland on his cousin

s invitation, and was, to all intents and purposes, a stranger to him, but Duff was watching the meeting between them with a look of quizzical amusement on his ugly face, and it was clear that he was not at all disturbed.


Harriet, this is my cousin Rory,

he said with conventional gravity, then his eyes twinkled.

But I understand you

ve already met, so perhaps introductions are hardly necessary.

Harriet saw the young man

s start of surprise and the enquiring lift of an eyebrow very reminiscent of his cousin, but he advanced politely to shake hands with her.


I don

t think—

he began, then his handsome face lit up with an expression of astonished recognition.


Why, you can

t be—you surely can

t be my charming little pen-friend of a year or more ago! Well, what d

you know!

He took Harriet

s hand in his, kissed her on both cheeks which he declared was the right of a, cousin by marriage, and, flinging an arm about each of them, walked them back to the house.

He was just as she remembered him; gay, good-looking, the ready tongue which had first charmed her and now demanded to know how on earth the two of them had met.


Perhaps it

s slipped your memory that you invited Harriet here?

said Duff with cool amusement, and Harriet, observing Rory

s mystification, realised that he had, indeed, forgotten. In sending off that hasty telegram which had never arrived, he had clearly put a little girl he had only met once straight out of his mind.


Good God!

he exclaimed, memory evidently coming back to him with a rush.

But surely you got my wire? You didn

t, I hope, traipse all over from England to this benighted country on a wild-goose chase, did you?


Hardly a wild-goose chase, as it turned out,

Duff said on an odd little inflection which seemed to have a message for his cousin, who gave him a swift, amused look, then turned to Harriet with cheerful impudence.


Well, it

s an ill wind, they say. I can

t for the life of me imagine what you can have seen in my ugly cousin, but I hope you find Clooney to your liking, now you

re stuck with us,

he said, and when she replied, it was with the first conscious recognition that in the eyes of the world she was Duff

s wife and mistress of his house, and could accept the role of hostess, if nothing more.


Very much to my liking, thank you. If you

re staying over Christmas, I

d better go and see about a room for you,

she said.


My
room

s been the same for years and is always ready, so don

t bother,

he told her with a twinkle of amusement she did not altogether interpret, and she felt relieved when Nonie created a diversion by appearing from nowhere and flinging herself upon Rory with most uncharacteristic enthusiasm.


Uncle
Rory
—how
super
!
Have you come for Christmas?

she cried with all the pleased excitement of any normal child, and Harriet, catching a glimpse of the expression that contorted Duff

s face for an instant and was gone, knew a queer little stab of pity for him. It could not be pleasant to be obliged to accept such a pointed preference.


Did you know I had a new stepmother, Uncle Rory?

Nonie was saying, with sidelong glances at Harriet which seemed to invite participation in some obscure joke, but Rory pulled her hair with a
none too gentle tug and replied;


Of course, and you

re a very lucky young woman, let me tell you, for I saw her first.


You
did?

You mean Father pinched her from you?


Well, hardly that; let

s say your papa, for once, accepted what the gods sent him without asking silly questions, and that goes for you, too. Now, Princess, tell me what you

ve been up to at that prim academy of yours, since last I saw you.

Harriet briefly described the adventures that had led her to the Castle, and Rory

s grin grew broader.


So all my false claims to the Castle were exposed. Cousin Duff took you in, and—settled the whole matter by making an honest woman of you. Well, well, well, life is full of surprises!

Nonie, who had been listening with an expression of dark frustration, trying to fill in the tantalising gaps of a story she had already gleaned for herself from snippets of gossip, hastened to add her own contribution.


And what do you
think,
Uncle Rory? She mistook the Castle for Clooney Gaol, and
Molly
says—


That

s enough, Nonie, Harriet

s adventures might wait until after lunch, I think,

Duff said, cutting short his daughter

s interpolation with a sharp air of dismissal which brought a sulky look to her face. He was not, Harriet thought, best pleased with his cousin

s frivolous findings, and she wondered how he would explain the matter with satisfaction to a young man who must realise by now that his own unintentional part in his cousin

s affairs had set in motion a whole, unlikely chain of events.

When later, however, she managed to find an opportunity to ask him, he replied with an air of polite surprise which made her feel foolish:

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