Winter at Cray (21 page)

It was a presumptuous statement coming from a man who had known her such a short time, she realised, and Stephen would no doubt have been horrified to hear it, but Louise inwardly thanked heaven that Henri Dupont had not caught her alone.

‘
Madame
!’
The hard, sharp eyes held hers for a moment and she felt the cold flick of fear in her as she shook her head.

‘
No, no, I don
’
t want to talk to you!
’
She was aware from the
corner
of her eye that Robert was coming back, impatient at the delay and curious at the face that must have struck him as familiar.
‘
I have nothing to say to you,
’
she added hastily.
‘
Now please go away and leave us—me—alone
!’

Robert hesitated only a few feet away and Jonathan, seeing him there, looked down at Louise.
‘
You take Robert back to the house, Louise,
’
he told her quietly.
‘
I
’
ll follow you in a few minutes.
’

She hesitated only momentarily, then turned without a word and took Robert
’
s hand, climbing the steep path in silence, surprising herself by her docile acceptance of his order. She could only suppose that she was too relieved to shift the burden of Henri Dupont on to his more capable shoulders to argue with him this time.

Halfway up the incline, she turned her head briefly and looked back over one shoulder. Jonathan was standing alone at the bottom of the path where they had left him—of Henri Dupont there was no sign and the rise hid the beginning of the road to the cottages.

As he promised, Stephen was back in time for dinner that night, looking rather smugly self-satisfied after having seen Essie safely on to her train.

‘
You didn
’
t mind my taking Miss Nostrum, did you
?’
he asked Louise as they sat, after dinner, in the big sitting-room.

‘
Of course not.
’
She might have sounded a little absent, she supposed, for she was still thinking of their meeting with Henri Dupont and his apparent change of mind. She was also, she admitted, a little puzzled by a faint mark on Jonathan
’
s chin which could have been a bruise.

‘
You couldn
’
t really care less, could you?
’
Stephen asked shortly, obviously annoyed by her lack of reaction.

‘
I shan
’
t make a big display of jealousy if that
’
s what you expect,
’
she told him with a smile.
‘
Oh, really, Stephen, did you expect me to
?’

‘
No, no, I didn
’
t.
’
He glared across the room at nothing in particular.
‘
But you can
’
t expect me to relish your indifference, you know.
’

Louise shook her head.
‘
I
’
m not indifferent,
’
she denied, trying not to sound impatient.
‘
But I do have rather a lot on my mind at the moment, Stephen, with the party and one thing and another. I shall be very glad when it
’
s all over, quite frankly.
’

‘
So shall I,
’
Stephen assured her.
‘
When all the unwelcome visitors have left.
’
His meaning was unmistakable and he looked across the room at the object of his venom.
‘
I wish Great-gran hadn
’
t got this—this wretched fixation about having Darrell here.
’

Louise sighed, wishing too that her great-grandmother had been more tactful than to prolong Jonathan Darrell
’
s stay when she knew it must inevitably increase Stephen
’
s jealousy of him. It must be discomfiting, she thought, having the old lady dote so obviously on a stranger when he had always been such a favourite with her himself.

‘
I don
’
t think you could really call it a fixation,
’
she denied, seeking to excuse the old lady
’
s behaviour.
‘
He really is remarkably like old Robert in the picture she has of him.
’

‘
I know he is,
’
he allowed grudgingly,
‘
but she just—dotes on him and,
’
he eyed her for a moment darkly,
‘
what with Great-gran, your Robert and you all falling over yourselves to be friendly towards him it
’
s no wonder he acts as if he owns the place.
’

‘
Me?
’
Louise stared at him unbelievingly for a moment, then an angry flush coloured her cheeks and she glared resentment.
‘
That
’
s not true, Stephen, and you know it isn
’
t. Being in the same house with him how can I help but be normally civil towards him? I
’
d be a very bad hostess if I wasn
’
t, but you
’
re talking, or at least implying, nonsense. It
’
s just your
—
your ridiculous jealousy!
’

She was overtired, she told herself, or she would never have reacted quite so violently, but Stephen too looked angry when he raised his eyes, a frown as black as thunder betw
e
en his brows.
‘
I
’
m sorry you find me ridiculous,
’
he told her.
‘
Perhaps you like being ousted by a stranger, perhaps you don
’
t mind Darrell
’
s take it or leave it approach. It seems popular enough with most of the
‘
women, I must say, but I thought you had more intelligence than most.
’
The bitterness of his attack, she realised, stemmed from more than jealousy of her alone, it included Essie and Emma Kincaid too, but she resented being included in the admirers of Jonathan Darrell. She got up from her chair, cheeks flushed, blue eyes blazing angrily, her red hair slightly awry as if the chaotic state of her mind had disarranged it. Without a word she opened the door and left the sitting-room, closing it behind her with a bang.

The small sitting-room, she knew, would be unoccupied at that time of night, with the old lady gone to bed, and she went in there and sat down by the dying fire, gazing into it blindly. Stiff with resentment, she sat there for several minutes until she felt herself start to relax, the rapid, angry beat of her heart returning to normal.

Back to the door, she heard footsteps in the hall and stiffened again ready to snub Stephen
’
s apologies.
‘
Go away,
’
she said, as the door opened behind her.
‘
I don
’
t want to talk to you.
’

‘
Oh?
’
The voice was not only mildly surprised but also amused, and she turned to see Jonathan Darrell looking at her, one brow raised in query.
‘
What have
I
done to you
?’

‘
I
’
m—I
’
m sorry,
’
she apologised, only halfheartedly.
‘
I thought it was Stephen.
’

‘
Curiouser and curiouser,
’
he said, coming across to stand beside the fire, one elbow on the high mantel, a finger and thumb pinching his lower lip thoughtfully as he looked down at her.
‘
And what
’
s
Stephen
done to deserve such abrupt dismissal
?’

‘
It
’
s none of your business,
’
she told him abruptly, and returned to her contemplation of the fire.

‘
Oh well, at least that remark
’
s more normal,
’
he commented, and studied her face for a second or two.
‘
My, you are in a temper, aren
’
t you? Perhaps I
’
d better go away and leave you to brew it into a full
-
scale storm, and come back later.
’

‘
I wish you
would
go,
’
she retorted.
‘
I
’
d like to be alone.
’

‘
Uh-huh, in that case I won
’
t tell you what I came in here to tell you, since you
’
re not in the mood.
’

She looked up at him, searching for some clue to his meaning, but there was only amusement and a hint of impatience in his expression.
‘
Is it something important?
’
she asked, and he shrugged.

‘
It depends,
’
he said.
‘
But since you
’
d rather be alone, it can wait.
’

‘
Oh, don
’
t be so infuriating!
’
She glared at him balefully and he laughed.
‘
Jon
!’

‘
Ah, there now!
’
He nodded his head in satisfaction.
‘
That
’
s progress—you called me Jon, now that is definitely encouraging. I
’
m very glad I came.
’

‘
I don
’
t believe you have anything to tell me at all,
’
she told him shortly,
‘
you
’
re making it up.
’

‘
Never!
’
he vowed piously, holding up one hand.
‘
Journalist
’
s oath!
’

‘
Then tell me,
’
she insisted, her eyes sparkling anger when she realised the way he was baiting her.
‘
Tell me or get out of here and leave me alone.
’

‘
Ooh, temper
!’
He took a deep breath and studied his nails carefully as he spoke.
‘
You won
’
t be seeing your brother-in-law, Henri Dupont, again.
’
It was a simple statement, and made without dramatics, but Louise looked at him round-eyed.

‘
He
’
s gone?
’
she asked, and her gaze flicked briefly and involuntarily to that faint blue mark that could have been a bruise, just beside his chin.

‘
He
’
s gone,
’
he echoed, nodding,
‘
I
’
ve made quite sure of that.
’
For some inexplicable reason his certainty made her uneasy.

‘
I find it hard to believe.
’

He looked at her reproachfully.
‘
Well, it
’
s true, I can assure you. I thought you
’
d be pleased,
’
he added.
‘
I even thought you might say thank you, Jon.
’

She bit her lip at being reminded.
‘
Thank you,
’
she said, carefully omitting the Jon, and he looked exaggeratedly disappointed.

‘
Is that all
?’
he asked.
‘
I had thought of something a bit more demonstrative, like throwing yourself into my arms in a surge of relief, or even giving me a chaste kiss for my trouble, but I can see I was being too ambitious.
’
He sighed deeply.
‘
Ah well, at least you
’
ve called me Jon once today, that
’
s a start, who knows where it might lead.
’

‘
It won
’
t lead anywhere,
’
she retorted.
‘
I—it just slipped out, I didn
’
t mean it to.
’
She hated the way he watched her and the way the pulse in her temple fluttered uneasily under the scrutiny.

‘
Oh, now don
’
t spoil it by apologising,
’
he begged, and Louise got to her feet, feeling demoralisingly small beside him, but summoning every ounce of dignity she possessed.

‘
I wasn
’
t apologising,
’
she informed him,
‘
I was explaining. Good
night,
Mr. Darrell.
’

The bang the door made when she slammed it behind her was very satisfying, but she would have been more pleased if she had not heard the deep, quiet sound of laughter from behind it as she walked away.