Authors: Sara Craven
'I thought he was going to kill me!'
I know he's going to kill me, Natalie thought despondently as she made her
way back to the house, where Beattie was waiting anxiously, the
drawing-room fire already re-kindled. She listened in appalled silence to
Natalie's stumbling story, then went and fetched her a glass of brandy. She
also had one herself.
'I need it,' she said grimly. 'Nat darling, didn't you realise the risks you could
be running? You could have been raped!'
Natalie shuddered. 'Yes, I know that now. But up till now, I'd always looked
on Ben Watson as someone— vaguely unpleasant—the sort of little weasel
who'd get his kicks through playing at Peeping Tom. It never occurred to me
he could be—dangerous.'
'Thank God Eliot turned up when he did.'
'I—suppose so.' Natalie looked down at her glass. She said, 'Why did you
contact him?'
Beattie looked thoroughly embarrassed. 'Mother hen instinct,' she said
reluctantly. 'I went to your room to see if you had any paracetamol. I seemed
to be starting a headache, and I'd run out. I felt it was odd your bed hadn't
been slept in, when you'd made such a thing about having an early night.'
She flushed. 'I could see the lights were on in Eliot's flat—and I thought that
was where you were,' she went on in a little rush, avoiding Natalie's gaze. 'I
don't know what made me phone him to check. I felt an awful busybody.
After all, you're a grown woman with your own life to lead, but I just felt so
uneasy—because it wasn't
like
you.' She paused. 'And I'm so thankful I did
phone. Eliot seemed to know at once where you'd be.'
Natalie bit her lip. 'You thought I'd got some sordid little assignation going?
Beattie, how could you?'
Beattie looked bewildered. 'But it wouldn't have been so extraordinary,' she
insisted. 'I thought the two of you seemed to be getting on much better
together at the dinner party. And he is incredibly attractive, Nat. I wouldn't
have blamed you at all, although Grantham might have,' she added with a
little grimace. 'The poor darling thinks he's still living in the Victorian age
where his womenfolk are concerned.'
'Then he doesn't have to worry,' Natalie said briefly. 'My own ideas are
pretty antediluvian too.' She swallowed. 'I find it amazing that you can be so
horrified at the idea of Ben Watson—mauling me, yet accept that' Eliot Lang
could have been—degrading me in exactly the same way.'
Beattie sat bolt upright. 'Nat!' Her voice shook. 'It isn't the same thing at all,
darling.'
'Isn't it? It seems so from my viewpoint. One fate is no worse than the other.'
Beattie put her glass down very .slowly, as she considered her reply. 'You're
still upset, darling,' she said, 'or I'm sure you wouldn't be saying these things.
You've been married. You know that there's a vast gulf between making love
with a man in a state of mutual desire, and being—used for the gratification
of some selfish, violent lust.'
Natalie said quietly, 'Is there? I'll have to take your word for it.' She put
down her glass and rose to her feet. 'Thanks for the brandy, Beattie. Perhaps
it will help me to sleep.'
If anything could, she thought as she went upstairs, with the prospect of
Eliot's anger to face in a few hours' time.
NATALIE'S eyes felt as if they'd been rubbed with sandpaper, and her head
ached as she went into the office. The door to the inner room stood ajar, and
Grantham's voice raised and angry came booming through.
'I always said no good would come of employing lasses, and I was damned
right! It's just putting temptation in the way, and it's cost me a good lad.
Well, the girl can go too. I'm not having any more of this kind of bother!'
She heard Eliot say quietly, 'No.'
'I'm glad you agree with me.'
'I don't. I was responding to your suggestion that Sharon should be
dismissed.'
There was a pause. The lull before the storm, Natalie thought, bracing
herself.
'What the hell do you mean?' roared Grantham.
'Exactly what I say. Sharon stays.'
'And who the hell are you to tell me what to do in my own stables? I'll have
no lax discipline here!'
'I'm your partner,' Eliot returned coolly, 'not some underling to jump to
attention whenever you raise your voice. And I'm satisfied that Sharon did
nothing to lead Watson on. Therefore I don't intend to allow her to be
penalised. And that's my final word on the subject.'
'Is it? Is it, by God? Then let me tell you...' Grantham's voice was rising to
ominous levels.
Natalie pushed the door wide and walked into the room. Grantham, red with
anger, turned on her. 'And what do you want?'
Natalie lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. She said, 'If Sharon
goes, I go. Ben Watson didn't confine his attentions to her alone, Dad. And I
can promise you, I certainly didn't encourage him, and I'm sure Sharon didn't
either.' She touched the tip of her tongue to dry lips. 'Eliot is quite right.'
Eliot glanced down at the riding whip he was holding, his face
expressionless.
Grantham sat down heavily in his chair. She saw with relief the worst of the
florid colour-begin to fade from his face.
'Are you telling me that—scum dared to make advances to my daughter?' He
struck the desk with his clenched fist, jarring a silver tankard stuffed with
pens. 'If I could get my hands on him ...'
Natalie glanced at Eliot in alarm, and was reassured by his faint shake of the
head. Ben Watson, it was clear, had already left Wintersgarth.
She said steadily, 'Sharon may not be your daughter, but she's an employee,
as I am, and entitled to the same kind of respect and protection. If it's not
forthcoming, there's no point in my remaining here either.'
Grantham glared at her. 'Don't you dictate to me, my girl!'
'I wouldn't dream of it. But Beattie will—if I tell her that you've been getting
worked up and shouting your head off, in spite of all the promises you made
the consultant.' She put a teasing note in her voice, but Grantham was not
mollified.
He said heavily, 'I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be crossed by a lad
half my age.' He gave Natalie a look. 'And blackmailed by my own flesh and
blood.' He pointed at the papers on his desk. 'I came down to do the entries
for Wetherby, but you might as well take over—as you seem to be doing
with everything else!' He got up and strode out of the room, slamming the
door behind him. The heard the outer door bang shut too.
Eliot said drily, 'The honeymoon would appear to be over.'
Natalie said defensively, 'You can't blame him. He's always been in
charge—always number one. He's never deferred to anyone, not even the
owners. It's hard for him. You have to make allowances.'
'I thought I had been doing,' said Eliot. 'Otherwise this little blow-up would
have come much sooner, believe me. If Grantham wanted a yes-man, a
subordinate rather than a partner, he should have approached someone else.'
He paused. 'But thank you for your unexpected support.'
Natalie looked down at the floor. 'It seemed the least I could do—after last
night.' She swallowed. 'I—I was very relieved to see you.' Her voice became
husky. 'And I'm sorry that Beattie—jumped to conclusions about where I
was. It won't happen again.'
'How true,' he said sardonically. 'I'm sure you couldn't wait to disabuse her
mind of that particular notion.' He paused. 'Tell me, did you know that
Watson was going to be your uninvited guest?'
'I didn't know,' she said. 'I couldn't be sure. But I had this feeling about him
that I couldn't explain—a prejudice, really.'
Eliot flicked his riding whip gently against his gleaming boot. 'It didn't occur
to you to—share this feeling with anyone?'
'It didn't seem fair when I had no proof,' Natalie said defensively. 'And
naturally, I didn't want to agitate my father unnecessarily.' She stopped
suddenly. 'Oh!'
'Precisely,' he said levelly. 'I've just had to remind Grantham, and now it's
your turn. Whether you wish it or not, Natalie, I'm here, and I intend to
remain herd. The sooner you come to terms with that fact, the better it will
be for all of us.' The hazel eyes looked at her coldly. 'Life is complicated
enough without having to cope with your resentment, silent and verbal, day
in, day out. I thought I'd warned you off involving yourself any further in
this Peeping Tom business, but I should have known that after one word
from me, you'd do as you liked. You could have consulted me over your
intuition about Watson, but that never occurred to you, did it?'
Natalie's cheeks burned. She stared down at the strip of carpet. 'No.'
Eliot said very wearily, 'Exactly. If your stepmother hadn't chanced to go
into your room, you could have been very seriously assaulted. You could
have been raped. And you can imagine the effect that would have had on
Grantham's heart condition.'
She bit her lip. 'You don't have to say all this. Beat- tie's already...'
'Beattie couldn't be hard on you if she tried,' he said brusquely. 'And that's
what you need. Just be thankful I'm confining myself to words alone. What
I'm tempted to do is give you the bloody good hiding you so richly deserve.'
'How dare you!' she said hoarsely.
'Quite easily, sweetheart, believe me.' The whip flicked again. 'You're
headstrong, Natalie. You like to take the bit between your teeth and run, and
last night you nearly charged into disaster. And if it was just down to me, I'd
probably let you,' he added dispassionately. 'But for your father's sake, and
Beattie's, I can't allow it. So regard this as your final warning, lady. Do the
work you're paid for, and don't meddle in what doesn't concern you.'
'So I'm just the office girl,' she said unevenly.
'For the present,' he agreed. 'Until you can prove your judgement can be
trusted.'
She flung her head up. 'And who says I have to trust you? The builders may
have started on the new extension, but where are the horses which are going
to fill it? We haven't been exactly stampeded by new owners since you
joined us.'
'Nor do we want to be,' he said calmly. 'Until the new boxes are built,
anyway. But you don't have to worry, Natalie. The horses will come. Now,
I'd better get on with those entries. If you could rustle up some coffee, I'd be
grateful.'
He didn't look up again, and after a moment she turned and left the room.
She found she was breathing far too quickly, and her forehead and the palms
of her hands felt damp and clammy. She leaned for a second against the bulk
of the filing cabinet, trying to regain her equilibrium. If he'd shouted and
sworn at her, she could have understood it better. She was used, after all, to
weathering Grantham's storms. But Eliot's cool, almost laconic approach left
her bewildered, and oddly crushed.
She'd behaved like a complete fool, and he'd let her know it. And the only
crumb of comfort she could derive from the whole wretched episode was
that it seemed, at last, to have killed off any transient desire he might have
felt for her stone dead.
But somehow, even that was no longer the reassurance it would once have
been, she thought with a little shaken sigh. And, on that discomfiting
reflection, went to put the kettle on.
Grantham seemed subdued in the weeks that followed. There were no more
confrontations between Eliot and himself, however, to Natalie's relief. And
Eliot's attitude towards herself had been as coolly professional and
businesslike as she could have wished.
But the last thing she expected was for Grantham to announce out of a blue
sky that he and Beattie were going away the following weekend to visit
Beattie's sister in Worcestershire.
'She's been asking us to go for long enough,' he muttered. 'And it's unfair to
Beattie to keep turning her invitations down.'
Natalie stared at him. 'But there's racing at Lassiter Park next Saturday. We
have three entries.'
'Well, Eliot can manage.' Grantham didn't meet her eye. 'After all, what's the
point of having a younger man as a partner if I can't relax—take things a bit
easier sometimes, tell me that?'
Natalie wasn't prepared to tell him anything at all. For the first time, it
occurred to her that Grantham might seriously be considering a kind of
semi-retirement. Up to then, she had believed that her father would hang on
tooth and nail, fighting every inch of the way to retain control over what he
still regarded as his.
This new departure, she thought, stemmed from the disagreement over
Sharon, and for a moment she felt a flicker of guilt, wondering if her
intervention that morning had influenced his decision.