Duelling Fire

by Anne Mather

  A young maid appeared and coffee was ordered, and then Harriet asked where Rupert was. ‘Oh, I expect he’s about somewhere,’ replied Lord Hadley carelessly. ‘He almost had an accident yesterday, riding in the lane. I shouldn’t have known about it, I suppose, but Juniper pulled a tendon getting out of the path of a car, and that had to be explained. Silly young blighter! The sooner he’s married and learns some responsibility the better.’

  ‘Yes.’ Harriet relaxed against the cushioned upholstery, her eyes flickering thoughtfully over Sara as she crossed her shapely legs. Then, before the girl could begin to feel uncomfortable, her attention shifted to their host again, and she gave him her most charming smile. ‘Jude did say something about it,’ she ventured casually. ‘Rupert really should learn not to use the public highway as a point-to-point course.’

  ‘Jude?’ Lord Hadley returned her look with beetling brows. ‘What does Jude know about it? He didn’t mention anything to me.’

  While Sara was digesting this startling statement, Harriet spoke again with drawling inconsequence. ‘Didn’t he tell you, James? It was his car Rupert almost jumped into. Jude was on his way back from collecting Sara at the station. As you can imagine, he got quite a shock.’

  Lord Hadley smothered an oath as the maid tapped at the door. He waited with evident impatience while she came in and put down the tray, and set out the coffee cups and saucers. Then, informing her shortly that they could serve themselves, he sent her about her business, before seating himself grimly beside Harriet on the sofa.

  Sara, watching this display, was slightly puzzled by Harriet’s involvement of Jude. For some reason, the younger man had seen Lord Hadley since yesterday, and evidently he had said nothing about what had happened. What point was there in labouring the incident, for no apparent reason than to cause trouble for Rupert?

  ‘Are you telling me Rupert jumped the fence?’ James Hadley demanded now, and Harriet made a token effort to retrieve herself.

  ‘I’ve probably spoken out of turn,’ she exclaimed, but Sara found she couldn’t quite believe this statement. ‘I was sure Rupert would have told you. Jude introduced him to Sara.’

  ‘Did he?’ Lord Hadley’s gaze rested briefly on the girl’s faintly embarrassed features. ‘No. He said nothing to me. I shall have a few words with him, when the opportunity arises.’

  ‘Oh, dear, have I said the wrong thing?’ Harriet was almost convincing in her distress. ‘James, please don’t tell Jude that I’ve told you. I naturally assumed that you knew.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  Lord Hadley did not sound as if he entirely believed her, but good manners forbore a plainer comment. Instead, it was left to Harriet to offer to pour the coffee, and afterwards, to ask warmly about Venetia.

  Sara, listening to her aunt enquiring about this unknown female, wondered at her capacity for deception. Only minutes before, she had dismissed Sara’s own question about her as of no account, but now it transpired that she was Lord Hadley’s daughter.

  ‘Such a sweet child,’ declared Harriet gently. ‘I’m sure Sara would love to meet her. She needs some friends of her own age in the vicinity, and I’m sure Venetia would welcome a companion.’

  ‘You may be right.’ Lord Hadley was polite, but Sara thought it was becoming increasingly obvious that he was not enthusiastic about her becoming friendly with either of his offspring. Perhaps it was a false impression, but she had the feeling that Harriet knew exactly how he felt, and for reasons of her own she was determined to thwart him.

  The coffee was hot and strong, and to Sara’s relief the subject of the near-accident was not mentioned again. Instead, her host asked her about India, where he had been stationed during the last war, and offered his condolences about her father, without being overly sympathetic.

  It was as they were rising to take their leave that they heard voices in the hall outside. Harriet appeared to have abandoned her attempts to bring her niece and the younger Hadleys together for today, but as they turned towards the door it opened to admit two people. One was a girl of perhaps Sara’s age, smaller and darker, and infinitely sturdier. The other was Jude.

  Sara fell back a step, her eyes going automatically to Harriet before returning to the newcomers. What on earth was Jude doing here? she wondered in dismay. Unless this was the girl with whom he had spent the previous evening. Her mouth felt dry, and she didn’t know where to look. Particularly as the other girl was looking at her in a far from friendly fashion.

  Jude, it had to be said, did not look at all perturbed. And there was no evidence in his lean sardonic face that he had spent a disturbed night. On the contrary, he looked just as relaxed and confident as ever, and when his silver-grey eyes met hers, there was no trace of familiarity in their depths. On the contrary, they were the eyes of a stranger, and Sara wondered rather wildly whether she had imagined that scene taking place in the library.

  The girl went straight to Lord Hadley, reaching up to kiss his cheek. ‘Hello, Daddy,’ she said, establishing their relationship. ‘I hope you don’t mind. I’ve persuaded Jude to take me into Buford.’

  ‘Have you?’ Lord Hadley’s eyes met Jude’s above her head, and Sara saw the interrogation of that exchange.

  ‘I did finish those letters before I committed myself,’ the younger man offered, in way of mitigation, and Sara blinked in confusion as Lord Hadley shook his head.

  ‘Jude isn’t here to entertain you, Venetia,’ he declared, looking down at his daughter. ‘He works for me, you know, and I’d prefer it if you asked me before bothering him.’

  While Sara absorbed this amazing revelation, Venetia’s full mouth jutted sulkily. ‘But, Daddy, I want Jude to take me. I like going with him. Don’t be a meanie! You know I can’t drive myself.’

  Lord Hadley glanced rather meaningfully at Harriet, and she moved her shoulders in a faintly derogatory gesture. ‘You know how it is to be young,’ she murmured, much to Sara’s astonishment. ‘I’m sure Jude’s not neglecting his work, James. Why not let them go? You can’t keep them always on a chain.’

  ‘That’s right, Daddy.’ Venetia cast a grateful glance in Harriet’s direction. ‘Why shouldn’t I have some fun? Besides, Jude promised—–’

  ‘Venetia, I do not enjoy arguing with you in front of our guests,’ her father replied brusquely. ‘Nor do I keep you on a chain. Jude’s simply too polite to tell you you’re wasting his time.’

  Venetia gasped and turned indignantly to the younger man. ‘That’s not true, is it, Jude? I’m not a nuisance, am I?’

  ‘I’m sure you’re not.’ Once again, Harriet intervened, approaching Lord Hadley with wide disarming eyes. ‘James, don’t be a spoilsport. Why shouldn’t they spend a couple of hours in Buford? What harm can it do?’

  James Hadley looked as if he would like to have said something further, but his innate good manners prevented him. Instead he turned to Jude, and the younger man moved his shoulders indifferently.

  ‘As Sara can drive, why don’t you ask her to take Venetia to Buford?’ he suggested, evoking a speculative stare from Harriet, and Sara felt totally confused. She didn’t understand any of this—not Harriet’s approval of Jude’s friendship with Venetia, surely a dangerous temptation for a man like him, nor Jude’s apparent unwillingness to take advantage of this situation. It didn’t make sense, unless he was trying to prove his devotion to the older woman, and if so, why was Harriet having to consider his proposition?

  She was brought back to the present with a start to find everyone looking at her with varying degrees of anticipation. ‘I—I beg your pardon,’ she said, realising something must have been asked of her while she was lost in thought, and Lord Hadley drew an impatient breath.

  ‘My father was asking whether you had any objections to driving me to Buford,’ Venetia declared, her face taut with resentment. ‘Don’t put yourself out on my account. Barnes can take me equally as well.’

  ‘Temper, temper, Vennie,’ Jude remarked behind her, and Sara shook
her head helplessly.

  ‘I—Harriet—–’ she began awkwardly, but the older woman only shrugged her shoulders.

  ‘If you would like to go with Venetia, don’t worry about me,’ she declared, apparently approving of Jude’s suggestion. ‘Have lunch together.’ She paused. ‘As I said earlier, you should have friends of your own age.’

  Her gaze lingered deliberately on Lord Hadley as she said this, and Sara couldn’t make up her mind whether he was aware of Harriet achieving her objective. Perhaps he saw her as the lesser of two evils, she thought flatly, wishing she understood what was going on. But Jude’s face was enigmatic, and Lord Hadley was looking at the younger man with a curiously rueful expression. Only Venetia’s feelings were open and unconcealed, and Sara was left in little doubt as to her opinion of the proposed arrangements.

  ‘If—if Miss Hadley—–’

  ‘Lady Venetia,’ inserted the girl, rather rudely, and Sara revised her estimation of the other girl’s character. She was evidently spoilt as well as wilful, and Sara’s sympathies hardened.

  ‘Very well, Lady Venetia,’ she agreed smoothly, before anyone else could intervene, ‘I suggest you make other arrangements.’

  Just for an instant she thought Jude’s face mirrored mild approval, but then Lord Hadley stepped between them. ‘Come, come, Venetia,’ he said, and Sara could tell he was annoyed by his daughter’s behaviour. ‘We’ll have no more of this. If Sara is willing to take you, I suggest you accept her offer. Well?’

  In her position, Sara felt sure she would have abandoned the whole idea, but Venetia was already faltering. ‘I asked Jude,’ she protested weakly. ‘But—oh, very well, if you insist.’

  ‘Good. Good.’ Lord Hadley patted her shoulder approvingly, and then turned to Sara in faint apology.

  ‘You will forgive Venetia, won’t you, my dear?’ he asserted, and catching Harriet’s warning eye, Sara gave in.

  ‘If—Lady Venetia is sure—–’ The name stuck in her throat but what choice did she have? With Jude and her aunt watching her predicament with equally guarded expressions, she felt ridiculously as if she was being manipulated. And she could do nothing about it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THEIR transport turned out to be a sleek red Porsche, and as Sara fitted herself behind the wheel, she wondered that Venetia could let anyone else drive it. She knew if she owned such a vehicle, no one else would chauffeur her, but perhaps Venetia felt differently. Besides, she had said she couldn’t drive herself, and it was nothing to do with Sara anyway.

  Lord Hadley had given her directions, even though Venetia obviously knew the way, and he and Harriet came out to see them off. Sara waited patiently while Venetia fastened her safety belt, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement that gripped her when she at last released the clutch and the powerful car surged forward.

  The gravelled drive gave on to a private road that ran through the park, with cattle grids guarding the separate grazing areas. But when they came to the gates that opened on to the highway, Venetia remained in her seat and let Sara climb out to open them, and later to close the same. Re-settling herself in the driving seat, Sara refused to let the other girl’s manner upset her, and as the Porsche gathered speed, she gave herself up to the pure delight of unrestricted power. She had driven many vehicles in her short life, from her father’s ancient Volvo to an equally ancient Land Rover, in the hills above Jaipur. But she had never had control of a car like this, and her enjoyment seemed to communicate itself to the other girl.

  ‘You drive well,’ Venetia remarked grudgingly, after they had been travelling for several minutes. ‘I thought you’d be a drag, but you do have a certain flair for it.’

  ‘Well, thank you.’ Sara took her eyes from the road for just a second to acknowledge the reluctant tribute. ‘Don’t you drive?’

  Venetia expelled her breath indifferently. ‘I used to. And I will again, once I get my licence back.’

  Sara’s lips parted. ‘You’re—barred?’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious?’ Venetia sniffed. ‘Oh, I knocked a boy off a moped, six months ago. They said I was driving dangerously. What they omitted to say was that he was a halfwit to be on the road without a crash helmet.’

  ‘I see.’ Sara was beginning to understand. ‘And the boy—was he hurt?’

  Venetia turned to stare out of the window. ‘Not seriously. A few broken bones, that’s all. He should have seen me coming.’

  ‘Yes.’ Sara’s response was guarded. She didn’t want to disagree with her, but it sounded as if Venetia had been as reckless as her brother with his horse.

  ‘I suppose you think I deserve it,’ Venetia added, turning to look at her companion. ‘You don’t like me much, do you? Admit it. I don’t blame you. I don’t much like you either.’

  Sara shook her head. ‘I don’t know you well enough to judge,’ she exclaimed, half amused by the other girl’s candour. ‘But I have to say I didn’t ask to play chauffeur. Your father fixed it up.’

  ‘Oh, I know.’ Venetia plucked at her pleated kilt. The outfit she was wearing did not compliment her plumpness, and Sara wondered whether her father chose her clothes as well. ‘It’s all Jude’s fault really. If he’d really wanted to go, Daddy wouldn’t have stopped him.’

  Sara absorbed this in silence, and Venetia gave another heartfelt sigh. ‘He really is a bastard! There are times when I wish I didn’t care what he did, but I do!’

  Sara slowed to run through a village, glad of the attention needed to negotiate a row of parked cars to avoid making any direct response, and Venetia glanced at her impatiently.

  ‘What do you think of him? Jude, I mean. I suppose you knew him before you came yesterday.’

  ‘No.’ Sara braked hard as a little girl skipped into the road in front of the car. She tried to be casual. ‘I haven’t seen Harriet for years, and then only when she visited me at school.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Venetia grimaced. ‘I don’t suppose he’d want to go along on those kind of outings. I, of course, have known him for years, ever since I was a little girl.’ She hunched her shoulders. ‘That’s the trouble.’

  ‘Trouble?’ Sara picked up the word, and Venetia nodded.

  ‘I’m crazy about him,’ she declared emotively. ‘Isn’t it painfully obvious?’

  Sara didn’t know how to reply. Venetia’s words had robbed her of breath. It was the last thing she had expected, and yet, now she came to think of it, she had been incredibly slow not to understand the real reasons for Venetia’s antipathy.

  ‘Well?’ The girl was waiting for a reply, and Sara’s tongue circled her dry lips. ‘I know Harriet doesn’t approve,’ Venetia went on. ‘Oh, she appeared to take my side just now, but that was only to thwart Daddy. She knew if she pushed him far enough, he’d be forced to make a stand.’

  Sara shook her head. ‘You mean your father doesn’t approve of Jude?’ she ventured, forced to make some comment, and Venetia grimaced.

  ‘He wants me to marry someone with lots of money and a title,’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘He won’t listen to what I want!’

  Sara’s fingers tightened on the wheel. ‘I’m sure your father knows best,’ she observed, feeling incapable of making any objective comment, and Venetia snorted.

  ‘I suppose I should have expected that,’ she muttered. ‘I saw the way you were looking at him. You find him attractive, too, don’t you?’ She gave a careless shrug of her shoulders. ‘That’s why we aren’t likely to be friends. I don’t like competition.’

  Sara gasped. ‘I—you’re wrong—–’

  ‘What? About you liking Jude?’ Venetia’s lips twisted. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I—I find him arrogant and insolent!’ Sara declared hotly. ‘I don’t know how Harriet—–’ She broke off abruptly, realising what she had been about to say, and revised it to: ‘I don’t know how she puts up with him living in her house.’

  Venetia regarded her consideringly. ‘You know, I almost believe you.’
>
  ‘You can please yourself.’ Sara was indignant. ‘I don’t tell lies, Lady Venetia!’

  ‘Oh, you can skip the formality,’ Venetia remarked off-handedly. ‘I was just being bitchy earlier. Now you know why.’

  Sara caught her lower lip between her teeth. Then, taking a deep breath, she said: ‘What I can’t understand is, if your father is so opposed to you associating with—with Jude, why does he allow him in the house?’

  ‘Oh, that.’ Venetia hunched her shoulders. ‘Jude’s worked for Daddy for years. Ever since he got his degree. Long before I became a problem.’

  ‘I see.’ Sara thought she was beginning to understand. It must have been through Harriet’s friendship with Lord Hadley that she had first met Jude. The reasons for his living at Knight’s Ferry were less obvious, but no doubt all would be revealed in time. It explained a lot, not least Jude’s familiarity with Rupert.

  ‘So that’s enough about me,’ Venetia remarked now, moving so that she could look at Sara without turning her head. ‘Tell me about you. Daddy said something about your father dying rather suddenly, and Harriet offering you a home.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’ Sara didn’t mind talking about herself. It was safer. ‘My father died nearly three months ago, and Harriet very kindly asked me if I’d like to come and work for her.’

  ‘Work for her?’ Venetia’s brow furrowed. ‘As what?’

  ‘Oh—I don’t know exactly. Secretary, perhaps. Companion. I’m afraid my duties aren’t awfully clear yet. I think Harriet wants me to settle down first.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Venetia was thoughtful. ‘Not very exciting, is it?’

  ‘I don’t want excitement,’ declared Sara flatly. ‘I had enough excitement with my father.’

  ‘Oh? Why?’

  Sara sighed. ‘He was a foreign correspondent and he took me with him on his assignments. We went all over the world.’ She paused. ‘We never had a permanent home, just a lot of rented houses and hotel rooms.’