by Lucy Gillen
THE PRETTY by LUCY GILLEN When Nigel Frome got Isobel Hendrix the job of secretary to his half-brother, Lucifer Bennetti, it was with the idea that he would thus be able to see a lot more of her. But Lucifer resembled his satanic namesake in more ways than one; wasn't Nigel taking rather a risk?
OTHER Harlequin romances by LUCY GiLLEN 1383 A WIFE FOR ANDREW 1408 THE SILVER FISHES 1425 GOOD MORNING, DOCTOR HOUSTON 1450 HEIR TO GLEN GHYLL 1481 NURSE HELEN 1507 MARRIAGE BY REQUEST' 1533 THE GIRL AT SMUGGLER'S REST 1553 DOCTOR TOBY 1579 WINTER AT CRAY 1604 THAT MAN NEXT DOOR 1627 MY BEAUTIFUL HEATHEN 1649 SWEET KATE 1669 A TIME REMEMBERED 1683 DANGEROUS STRANGER 171 l SUMMER SEASON 1736 THE ENCHANTED RING 1754 THE PRETTY WITCH
Many of these titles ore available at your local bookseller, or through the Harlequin Reader Service. For a free catalogue listing all available Harlequin Romances, send your name and address to: HARLEQUIN READER SERVICE, M.P.O. Box 707, Niagara Falls, N.Y. 14302 Canadian address: Stratford, Ontario, Canada. or use order coupon at back of book.
CHAPTER ONE
ISOBEL glanced yet again at her watch and sighed despairingly. It was already five minutes past nine and still the hot, overcrowded bus had not reached her stop. If only she had thought to check how long the bus took to get, to Green's Comer she could have caught an earlier one, but she had been advised to catch this particular one and twenty minutes had seemed plenty of time to cover the journey from Greenlaw. It had seemed a much shorter distance when she had come for her interview-a couple of weeks ago, but then of course she had been very extravagant and indulged in a taxi. The taxi had made little of the distance and none of the stops that the bus was required to make. Not that it wasn't a very pleasant journey, especially now, with the Gloucestershire countryside at its summery best, but she was not travelling to Green's Corner just for the pleasure of enjoying the scenery, but to take up a new position as secretary, and being late was not going to make a very good first impression. Actually she had been rather more keen than usual to make a good impression, because she felt as if she had got the post more through influence than because her prospective employer had been impressed with her skill. Indeed he had seemed barely interested in such things as typing and shorthand speeds and had been very off-hand, and casual with her for the very short time he saw her. Although the interview had been so brief Isobel remembered it all too vividly and, not for the first time, wondered if she had made a mistake in changing her job so impulsively. Of course the pay was very much better than at Frome's and it should be quite exciting working for anyone as well known as Luke Bennett, although he had made her rather uneasy at their first meeting. She had expected a famous writer of crime novels to be somewhat impressive, but he had been so much more than she expected. For one thing, he was so tall, and her own meagre five feet two had seemed even less than usual when he stood up to greet her. He had said little during the short time 'they were together, but she thought she would never forget those rather startling black eyes and the dark, disturbingly attractive features. He was so completely unlike Nigel that she had been unprepared for it .and shown her surprise quite plainly, a fact which had appeared to amuse him. Of course they were only half-brothers. Luke Bennett, or Lucifer Bennetti to give him his true name, had the same mother as Nigel, but his father, so Nigel had rather reluctantly informed her, was an Italian count, and their mother's first husband. Evidently the elder brother had inherited his looks entirely from his father, but Isobel had expected them to have at least one feature in common instead of being so completely different. Nigel's brown hair and blue eyes and his regular features were in such contrast to his brother's black hair and eyes, and Nigel was at least a couple, of inches shorter too. Thinking of Nigel, she pulled a wry face, remembering that it had been he who had persuaded her to apply for this job and no doubt, too, persuaded his brother that she was suitable for it. But now here she was at least five minutes late and getting-later every minute, and on her first morning too. Lateness was one thing Nigel would never tolerate, and she felt she was letting him down badly. She had been a little surprised at first when Nigel had suggested her leaving Frome's, where she had been ever since leaving sec6 retarial college four years ago. Thinking of it later, however, his reason became clearer. Nigel had been away from the firm for some weeks now, and how much longer it was likely to be before he came back, she had no idea. Several male members of the staff had made no secret of the fact that they found her very attractive, and only Nigel's presence had kept them from doing anything about it. With Nigel away things could be different and Isobel thought the idea was that Nigel should have her near him and also out of the way of temptation. She sighed with more than relief when at last Green's Comer came into sight round another bend, and she was on her feet ready to alight well before the bus stopped, thanking heaven that the bus stop was only a couple of yards from the gates of Kanderby Lodge. The conductor gave her a smile as she passed him, attracted, as most men were, by her fairness and the lovely soft features that smiled easily. Her thick corn-gold hair curled slightly and she wore it tied back with a brightly coloured scarf at the nape of her neck. A small anxious frown drew her brows together at the moment above huge, brown-fringed grey eyes. It was too warm for a topcoat, but her linen dress was neat and smart enough to please even the most fastidious employer, and a dark enough green to be considered suitable for a secretary about to take up a new post. She remembered to turn right after she went through the double gates, because the lodge where Lucifer Bennetti lived and worked had been built in the ample grounds of Kanderby House, his grandmother's home. The garden was bright and colourful and smelled of the dark loam that lay in permanent shadow beneath the shrubs all along the drive and half hiding the lodge she sought. She sent a swift, not very hopeful look along the drive to the bigger house immediately opposite the gates, wishing she could catch just a glimpse of Nigel before she faced what she expected to be an irate employer. It was a faint hope, of course, for while he was still so incapacitated he would be unlikely to be up and about so early. A bad car crash several weeks ago had put Nigel into hospital for some time and he was now staying with his grandmother, recovering slowly and chafing at the enforced inactivity. Isobel crunched her way round the gravel drive to the front door of the cottage and hesitated briefly before knocking. She felt very small and scared and rather like a child starting school for the first time, as she waited for her knock to be answered. When no one came after several seconds, she knocked again and eyed the shiny brass knob speculatively. Perhaps the manservant who had admitted her last time was out or busy elsewhere and unable to hear her knock. Her heart thumping uneasily, she turned the knob and pushed the door open" a couple of inches. 'Hello!' Her voice sounded very quiet and horribly uncertain and she thought for a moment that the house must be empty, then a door to her right opened suddenly and curious eyes looked at her through the narrow opening. 'Judging by what I can see,' Lucifer Bennetti said, 'you're my new girl.' He came across the intervening few feet and opened the door wide while Isobel prepared an apology. 'Come on in.' He left her to close the door behind her and went back into the room he had come from. Presuming she was intended to follow, Isobel walked in after him, remembering the bright sunny room from her last visit. 'I'm I'm very sorry I'm so late,' she ventured, and he turned an unconcerned gaze on her, one black brow arched curiously. 8 'Are you? I hadn't noticed.' Isobel blinked. Friendly as she was with ~Nigel he would, even so, have commented on her arrival some fifteen minutes late. 'It's a quarter past nine,' she informed him. The black eyes studied her for a moment, then he smiled. A crooked, sardonic smile that glittered wickedly and made Isobel feel strangely uneasy again. 'I hope you're not a clock-watcher,' he told her. 'I don't work to the clock. This isn't a nine-to-five job, I thought you real
ized that.' 'Oh, I do,' Isobel hastened to assure him. 'I was just apologizing for not starting on time, that's all.' Again he studied her in silence for a while. 'I suppose you had to be on the dot with Nigel, didn't you?' She nodded. 'Of course. In business you can't afford to be any other way.' 'Of course.' She thought she detected sarcasm in the reply, but gave him the benefit of the doubt. She looked around her at the untidy shambles of paper and reference books, boxes of carbon, pieces of scribblecovered paper and a typewriter half-hidden by a tweed jacket thrown carelessly across it. 'What would you like me to do first?' she asked, and he too looked around the untidy room before cocking a brow at her. 'Is it beneath your secretarial dignity to tidy up?' he inquired, in such a way that she felt sure he expected her to refuse indignantly. 'No, of course not, Mr. Bennetti.' He looked at her curiously. 'Oh, so Nigel's enlightened . you now, has he?' He grinned at her and she was reminded uncomfortably of his satanic -namesake. 'I'm surprised he let the cat out of the bag, he usually prefers to keep the fact quiet that there's Italian blood in the family. He heaved a sigh of relief when I decided to use Luke Ben nett for a pen-name.' Isobel put down her bag and gloves and prepared to tackle the marathon task of bringing some sort of order to the big room. 'I've never heard him express any opinion about it either way,' she told him, 'so I think you must be wrong in that respect.' That expressive brow shot upwards again and he eyed her curiously as he perched on the edge of another desk, presumably his own, over near the window. 'Are you on familiar enough terms with him for him to say anything, Miss Hendrix?' he asked in a suspiciously quiet voice, and Isobel glanced up only to lower her gaze again hastily when she met his eyes. 'I'm - I'm not sure I know what you mean, Mr. Bennetti.' A deep chuckle startled her, and she nicked him another wary glance. 'I mean, in fact,' he told her, 'are you Nigel's girl-friend?' She stopped in her task for a moment, the discarded jacket in front of her, her gaze uncertain as she looked at him. 'I - yes, I suppose you could say that in a way,' she admitted.. 'I thought so. He takes you out more than he does anyone else, doesn't he?' Isobel nodded. 'We have been out together quite a lot, before his accident, of course.' He was grinning again, the black eyes glittering wickedly. 'I thought it might be that,' he said. 'He seemed so anxious to have you here and he hinted that I should keep my beady eyes off you.' 'Oh, he shouldn't have done that,' Isobel protested, feeling more uneasy than ever at his frankness. -A quiet laugh greeted her protest and he got up and walked round to the other side of his desk. 'I don't imagine you mean that the way it sounds,' he told her. 10 'Anyway, my brother knows me a, lot better than you do, and he doesn't approve of me in the least.' 'Then why did he want me ' she began, and he smiled. 'Better the devil you know,' he quoted softly, and laughed. 'And while you're here he can keep an eye on you, can't he?' It was an uneasy truth that she was obliged to face and she nodded, but was unprepared to voice agreement. 'I don't think that's quite true,' she told him, and looked up sharply when he laughed again. 'You're very young,' he said bluntly, 'and rather naive too, from the sound of it.' 'I'm-' Her protest was cut short as if she had not even spoken. 'You look as if a good strong wind would blow you away,' he told her, and swept his black eyes over her small but attractive figure as he smiled. 'A real fantoccia. Nigel has excellent taste, I'll allow him that, but you look as if you'd be more at home with fairy-tales than with my blood and thunder epics. Will you be able to cope?' 'Quite well, thank you, Mr. Bennetti.' His smile was a mere crooking of the wide straight mouth. 'I think you will too,' he told her. Whether or not he always finished at the same time for lunch, Isobel had no way of knowing, but she was relieved that today he told her she could go at just before one o'clock. She had to admit that the morning had gone far more quickly than she realized and, once he became absorbed in his work, he said little, so she finished tidying the room and then got on with a pile of typing that awaited her attention. She was nervous too when she thought about lunchtime, because Nigel had asked her to come over to the IX house and have lunch with him and his grandmother. She had never met Mrs. Glaudia Grayson, but she knew her to be an extremely wealthy woman and Isobel wondered if she would take kindly to having her grandson's employee as a luncheon guest. 'Are you going over to the house for lunch?' Lucifer Bennetti asked as she picked up her bag and gloves, and Isobel nodded. 'Yes. Nigel asked me to come.' She looked at him, startled, when he put a hand under her arm and walked to the door with her. 'I'll act as escort,' he told her, with a grin for her surprise. 'Beppo's got the day off. My man,' he explained when she frowned curiously. 'When he's off I eat with the quality.' Isobel realized for the first time that they must have been alone in the cottage by themselves all morning and, almost as if he guessed what she was thinking, he looked down at her and chuckled softly as he closed the door behind them. He really was the most disconcerting man, Isobel thought, and one she could very easily dislike. He took her round the thick shrubbery at the back of the house and across a lawn to open french windows that led straight in to a long, sunny, beautifully furnished room. Their appearance gave rise to simultaneous cries of welcome from Nigel, resting uneasily in an armchair, and from a small and remarkably bright-eyed elderly woman. 'Lucifer dear, I'm so glad you remembered you were lunching with us today,' his grandmother told him as he bent to kiss her cheek. 'Of course I remembered, Grandmama, how could I forget?' The old lady kissed him enthusiastically, obviously doting on her elder grandson, then her bright blue eyes 13 peeped curiously round his broad shoulders to Isobel. 'And this must be the young lady I've heard so much about. Do introduce us, one of you.' Nigel, unable to leave his chair very easily, found himself forestalled, and Isobel saw the frown that condemned his brother's action. 'Grandmama, this is Isobel Hendrix. Miss Hendrix, my grandmother, Mrs. Grayson.' The blue eyes studied her for a moment in friendly curiosity while she still held her hand, then she smiled. 'I'm delighted to meet you, my dear. I've heard a great deal about you from NigeL' Isobel glanced at Nigel, relieved at her reception. 'It was very kind of you to ask me to lunch, Mrs. Grayson, thank you.' The old lady looked at Nigel, her eyes twinkling. 'I just had to meet you after hearing so much lavish praise to your prettiness,' she told Isobel. 'And he's quite right, you're a very lovely girl, Miss Hendrix.' 'A real little fantoccia, eh, Grandmama?' Lucifer said softly, and the old lady shook her head in mild reproach. 'Lucifer, it may be a compliment to call a young lady a doll, but I feel it's not very polite at this stage of your relationship.' She looked at Isobel, seeking understanding, while Nigel frowned blackly in the background. 'How have you been getting along with my scoundrel of a grandson. Miss Hendrix?' 'Oh - very well, thank you, Mrs. Grayson.' She flicked a glance at Nigel and smiled reassurance. 'I've been very busy, but I prefer it that way.' 'She even tidied up without a murmur of complaint,' Lucifer informed the old lady, with an eyebrow cocked at Isobel. 'At least she didn't complain out loud.' 'Tidied up?' Nigel frowned. 'Tidied up what? You don't mean that you actually had the cheek to ask Isobel 3 to clear up that - that pigsty of an office of yours?' 'Was it a pigsty?' Lucifer asked, such a picture of innocence that his grandmother laughed. 'It was - well, untidy,' Isobel said. 'But it was soon tidy.' 'You'd no right to turn Isobel into a char,' Nigel told his brother shortly. 'She's a trained secretary and that's what you're paying her for.' Isobel supposed that his injuries and the subsequent enforced inactivity had made Nigel less amiable than usual, but she had not realized quite how bad-tempered his good-looking face could be, and- the contrast was especially noticeable beside Lucifer's apparent good humour. She walked over to him, under the speculative gaze of his family, and covered his hand that lay on the chair arm. T didn't mind;, Nigel,' she told him. 'YOU know I had to tidy up after Mr. Pogson, quite often.' 'Pogson's an oaf,' Nigel informed her gruffly. 'You won't be going back to him.' 'I know,' Isobel agreed, 'but I was just pointing out that there's more to being a secretary than shorthand and typing.' 'Oh, there won't be any shorthand for me,' Lucifer pointed out, 'except for the odd letter or two now and then.' 'Really I don't mind in
the least,' Isobel insisted, seeing Nigel bent on carrying it further and anxious to end the discussion. 'You look very tired,' she told Nigel, still holding his hand under hers. 'Are you in pain?' 'No.' He shook his head. 'It's just that I've been getting around a bit this morning and it takes it out of me rather.' 'Why don't you take it easier while you have the opportunity?' his brother asked with a grin. 'It's not every man 4 has such a heaven-sent chance to be bone idle, in summer too. You don't know when you're in clover, my lad.' Nigel's blue eyes glared at him balefully. 'It's all right for you,' he retorted, 'you're not confined to a blessed chair all day, or most of it anyway. I'm sick of being inactive.' 'Give me the chance!' Lucifer smiled, but Nigel glowered, detenninedly ill-humoured. 'YOU always were a lazy devil when you had the opportunity.* Lucifer's smile admitted it willingly and Isobel thought that the slightly exaggerated shrug and spread hands were deliberately overdone to emphasize his foreignness because he knew it annoyed Nigel. 'It's my Italian papa, I suppose, but I can imagine nothing more heavenly than a perfect excuse for doing nothing at all. Indolence comes naturally to me.' 'Oh, nonsense, Lucifer,' his grandmother protested laughingly. 'You're as industrious as anyone I know. You put most people to shame.' 'Except Nigel,' Lucifer argued. 'He's a regular whirlwind when he's on form. He lives, eats and sleeps work.' A black brow quirked in Isobel's direction. 'Well, almost,' he added softly. Nigel frowned. 'If anyone listened to you,' he told him, 'they'd take me for an absolute bore, and I don't think I'm that.' 'Of course you're not, dear,' his grandmother consoled him. 'NOW I think we'd better go in and have some lunch before Mrs. Clay thinks we're not interested.' The meal was less of an ordeal than- Isobel had feared, and her hostess managed to keep the peace between the two brothers with a skill that told of long practice. It was as well, Isobel thought ruefully, that the two men did not normally live in the same house or there would inevitably ^5 have been more serious quarrels. Nigel still found movement of his legs difficult and painful and he chafed at the necessary slower pace he was forced to keep to; this probably made things more than usually uneasy between them. 'I was hoping to take you to the County Show next week,' Nigel told Isobel as they finished lunch. 'I'm sorry I can't, because I 'think you'd have enjoyed it, and I haven't been for years.' 'The County Show?' She looked interested. 'If it's what I think you mean I would certainly have enjoyed it.' She shrugged and smiled consolingly at him. 'Never mind, perhaps we can go some other time.' 'Not until next year,' Nigel told her. 'It's only an annual event and it's one of the best of its kind in the country.' 'Oh well, never mind, it can't be helped. You can't hop about on your poor legs, can you?' Lucifer, although presumably engrossed in conversation with the old lady, caught enough of what Nigel and Isobel were saying to get the general gist of it, and he looked interested. 'Do you like country shows. Miss Hendrix?' he asked, and Isobel looked surprised for a moment before nodding her head. 'Yes - yes, I do rather.' She told herself she had been rather rash to admit so much, and certainly Nigel anticipated his brother's next question, judging from his frown. 'Then will you come with me?' She flicked an uneasy glance at Nigel and hesitated when she saw the expression in his eyes. 'I - I don't think so, thank you, Mr. Bennetti.' The look he gave his brother told her that he guessed the reason for her refusal and the black eyes glistened laughter, although he spoke seriously enough. 'But why 16 not, if you like going to things like that?' he asked. 'I know Nigel can't go, but he isn't selfish enough to deny you the pleasure of going, surely. Are you, Nigel?' Without appearing utterly selfish there was little Nigel could do or say other than to agree, and he nodded reluctantly. 'Of course, go if you want to, Isobel,' he told her. 'I'm sure you'll like it.' 'I do like that sort of thing,' she admitted, sorely tempted but still uncertain. It was obvious that Nigel disliked the idea of her going without him, even though he was verbally encouraging her. 'Then you should come,' Lucifer said as if the matter was now settled. 'We'll start early and make a day of it.' Isobel said nothing, still wondering why she did not make more of an effort to resist being shanghaied into going with him. Lucifer Bennetti, it appeared, was a man who had no hesitation in making up his mind and making . sure that everyone else complied with his ideas. There was a hint of stubborn dislike, however, in Nigel's expression as he looked at his brother curiously, 'Will there be just the two of you?' he asked quietly - so quietly that Isobel sensed something other than mere curiosity behind the question. Lucifer raised a brow, a half-smile crooking his mouth. 'Just the two of us,' he agreed,,obviously following Nigel's train of thought but not prepared to meet him halfway. Nigel's eyes glowed malice and his voice was edged with disapproval as he watched the other's face. What about Vanessa?' he asked. If he had expected Lucifer to be discomfited by the question he must have been disappointed. 'What about Vanessa?' Isobel's skin prickled warningly at the tension between them, although she thought Nigel was far more conscious ^ of it than Lucifer, and it was obvious which one of them was going to come off best. She thought perhaps he always did, for Nigel already, seemed less sure of himself. 'You usually take Vanessa to the County Show,' he said. 'I just wondered, that's all.' Lucifer smiled, a slow dark smile that foretold triumph. 'Well, wonder no more,' he told his brother. 'Vanessa is otherwise engaged at an antique fair. She's flying out to Germany on the opening day of the show and she won't be back until the day after it closes. Does that answer you?' The question was quietly put and he smiled when he asked it, but Isobel thought it betrayed resentment at being questioned. T was only curious,' Nigel said, on the defensive, while Mrs. Grayson sought hastily to restore normality. Tt would be a shame if Miss Hendrix didn't see the show,' she said, smiling at Nigel consolingly. 'And I'm sure she'll enjoy it quite well with Lucifer, dear.' 'Of course,' Nigel agreed resignedly, and Isobel felt more uneasy than ever about accepting the invitation, although in actual fact she had never really been given the chance to accept or refuse. One way or another, however, she seemed to be already committed, and she thought Lucifer was watching her, half expecting her to find some excuse not to go with him. .She smiled at him for the first time, wondering if he had made the offer because he wanted to take her or merely to annoy Nigel; either way she would hold him to , the promise now. 'I'm sure I shall enjoy it,' she said. 'If you're sure you can spare the time from your work, Mr. Bennetti.' 'Oh, we'll manage to get done, don't you worry about that,' he assured her with a grin. 'I'll work you late for a night or two to make up for iti 18 'Lucifer, you really mustn't,' Mrs. Grayson objected mildly. 'You mustn't overwork Miss Hendrix like you did poor Mrs. Lomas; I'm not surprised she left you.' 'Tottie Lomas,' Lucifer told her, unrepentant, 'was not only the most unattractive female in existence, she was also a clock-watcher. I've already warned Miss Hendrix not to expect a nine-to-five job with me.' 'I'm afraid I've already blotted my copybook,' Isobel confessed, her explanation mainly for Nigel's benefit. 'I didn't arrive until a quarter past nine this morning.' 'You - late?' Nigel looked fiatteringly surprised. 'I've never known that to happen, Isobel. Did you miss the bus?' She shook her head. 'No, but I'm afraid I didn't allow for it taking so long to get here. I hadn't thought of it stopping at every stop all the way from Greenlaw.' 'It's a pretty murderous journey at that time of day,2 Nigel told her. 'I've never used the bus, but I suppose it stands to reason that it's crowded with people going in to work and shopping in Edgemorton.' 'I realize it now,' Isobel said ruefully, 'but I just didn't think this morning. Tomorrow I'll get the one before.' 'It's a wretched journey for you,' Nigel sympathized., 'But there's nothing else for it, is there, darling?' It was not only unusual for Nigel to use such an endearment with anyone else there, but there was also some odd feeling of expectancy about him, although .she could not for the life of her think why there should be.-As if he too sensed and interpreted something other than sym-a pathy for her, Lucifer smiled to himself. 'Where are you staying?' Mrs. Grayson asked, a thoughtful look on her face, while Lucifer's smile grew even more knowing as he looked across at his brother. 'I have a room in Mudlan Street in Greenla
w,' Isobel told her, increasingly puzzled. 'Oh, but they're such horrid little houses, if I remember correctly,' the old lady said, and Isobel smiled wryly. 'It's a case of needs must, I'm afraid, Mrs. Grayson,' she said. 'So few people in Greenlaw let rooms, and it is nearer than Edgemorton. It's not much of a room, but the landlady's very nice.' 'I see no reason,' Mrs. Grayson declared, as if she had quite made up her mind, 'why you can't come here.' The odd feeling of expectancy was at last explained when Isobel saw Nigel's look of satisfaction. 'It would be very much more convenient,' he said, and glared at Lucifer when he laughed. 'Very,' Lucifer said softly. 'Oh, but I couldn't possibly,* Isobel protested. 'My dear Miss Hendrix, of course you can.' The old lady was adamant and Isobel thought ruefully thatLucifer had probably inherited his implacable will, at least in part, from his grandmother. 'Did you notice the little cottage the other side of the gates from Lucifer's?' Mrs. Grayson asked, and immediately answered her own question. 'No, it's more than likely you didn't, because it's hidden by the rhododendrons. It used to be used by the gardener, but a full-time gardener is almost impossible to find these days and the cottage has been empty for some time now. It was too small for Lucifer and his man, so we had the other little house built, but it would be ideal for one, if you'd like to use it, my dear.' 'I - I'd love to,' Isobel said, too stunned for the moment to say much more, but intrigued with the idea of having her own little house, and no bus journey to work every day. 'If you're sure it would be all right.' She could not have said why it was Lucifer she looked at briefly when she said that, for he seemed completely unconcerned about the idea. 'There's nothing simpler,' Mrs. Grayson assured her. 20 'It's in perfect repair and all it needs is to be aired and the furniture moved back in. Say about a week or even less, and it'll be ready for you.' She smiled at Isobel knowingly, her blue eyes mischievous. 'I know Nigel will love having you so near at hand, my dear.' 'I c&rtainly will,' Nigel agreed earnestly. 'Do take it, Isobel, I'd like you to.' Isobel knew that he was watching her expectantly, but she was even more aware of Lucifer's black eyes fixed on her from across the table. 'Then I will,' she said at last. 'Thank you very much, Mrs. Grayson, it's very kind of you.' 'There, that's settled.' The old lady beamed her satisfaction. 'It will help Nigel's recovery no end, I'm sure of it, having you here, and save you all those beastly bus journeys.' She looked pleased with her persuasive powers. 'Apart from anything else,' she added, 'I shall have some female company sometimes, instead of all these men.' 'Only two of us, cara mia,' Lucifer protested lightly, and the old lady pulled a face at him, 'It seems more,' she told him. 'At least I shall be able to talk about things that interest only women, like fashions and such. I may be well over seventy, but I'm not oldfashioned and I like to talk about feminine things.' 'Oh, you're certainly not old-fashioned, Grandmama,8 Lucifer assured her with a twinkle. 'I wouldn't be surprised to see you blossom out in the very latest gear any day now.' 'And so I might, you impudent rogue,' his grandmother retorted laughingly. 'Although I haven't the figure that Miss Hendrix has for showing it off.' The remark brought Isobel once again, embarrassingly, under the scrutiny of those black eyes and she hastily lowered her own. 'I have to agree with you there,' Lucifer said softly, and sent her a wicked look that made his 31 brother frown. 'At least I shall be able to see you more often,' Nigel told her. 'It means you can spend all your free time with me, Isobel.' 'It also means I can be on time in the mornings,' Isobel said with a wry smile. 'I hate being late, and especially on my first day.' 'Well, if you have such a guilty conscience about it,' Lucifer told her, 'you can make it up by working late tonight.' 'Oh, that's not ' Nigel began, but Isobel shook her head at him, sensing a challenge behind the suggestion, as if he expected her to protest as Nigel was doing. 'Of course I'll work late,' Mr. Bennetti,' she told him quietly. 'I owe you that much.' He looked, she thought, quite disappointed because she did not argue. 22