She swam back in a strong swift crawl and he swam beside her, hauling himself out, then reaching for her, but she was scrambling out unaided. As she did she said, 'Don't glare at me, I didn't push you in.'
She pulled her dress over her head, clamping her clammy underclothes to her skin, putting her wet feet into her shoes. She was warm at the moment, but she was going to start shivering soon.
'We must have a proper race some time,' she said gaily. 'I always wanted to beat you.'
'Try anything like that again,' he said grimly, 'and you're the one who'll get beaten. I'll beat the daylights out of you!' He bundled his coat around her, and when she protested he said, 'I'm tinker-scum, I don't catch cold.'
They got back to the car, almost running, but even so Dora was starting to shiver. The car was warm and
Tip was sitting on her feet, but by the time they reached the village her teeth were chattering, and when Coll drove past the lodge she could hardly get out, 'You've p-passed it.'
`Shurrup ' he growled. He was in a foul temper, and she couldn't blame him. He was soaking wet too and he hadn't wanted to go swimming. She felt sobered up now, but she didn't feel repentant. She had enjoyed that. It had been a long time since she had done anything crazy and impetuous, and it was gratifying to have shaken Coll up so much that he was still fuming. For a change she had whistled and he had jumped. More or less. He had made her swim back, but she had made him jump into the river.
Inside the Manor, he. ordered, 'Get yourself a hot bath.'
'Yes, sir.' She agreed that she needed a bath, to warm her up and wash away the river stickiness. She went into the first bathroom—there had been two in the old days, there was a third now, dating from the guesthouse. She soaped and soaked herself, then she washed her bra, pants and slip, hanging them on the heated towel rail, and came out swaddled in a huge white towel.
The house was warm and the bath had been hot, but she was still shivering, and she was afraid she was in for a chill. That midnight swim had been a daft thing to do, no matter how much she had enjoyed it. If she went down with the 'flu, or started sniffing and sneezing all over the place, Coll was going to be very tetchy tomorrow and she might wish she had been less headstrong tonight.
She didn't have a change of clothing here, but she had an overall and a mackintosh and a pair of wellies.
If she put them all on, and her long white dress and her shawl, she could walk home fast; though it might be more sense to take her old room for the night and get into bed as quickly as possible. If she could take a hot drink up with her, and find a couple of aspirins, she might ward off the worst of the threatened chill.
She went down into the kitchen where Coll was waiting for a kettle to boil. He was wearing a bathrobe, he had just had a bath too, and he turned a glowering face on her. She'd be safe enough sleeping here tonight. He didn't look in the least as though he wanted to seduce her.
She said meekly, 'I can't very well walk home like this. Can I have my old room?'
`You'd better, and you'd better have a hot drink.' Her teeth were chattering again and he said irascibly, `Get yourself off, I'll bring it up to you.'
h-thank you.' She tried to point out that the blame was not all hers. `There was no need for you to jump in. I wasn't drowning, I was waving.'
If she had hoped for a glimmer of a smile she didn't get it. He said, with a cutting edge to every word, 'I'm quite aware of that. And that you'd rather drown than reach for me.'
Dora pondered on that as she got into bed and pulled the bedclothes up to her chin. Her head wasn't quite as clear as she had thought it was, she had drunk too much, and when she closed her eyes a swirling, floating sensation, not entirely unpleasant, took over.
If she had been in difficulties in the river of course she would have reached for Coll. He must have thought she was, and it had been decent of him to dive in. Although he could hardly have let her get swept
away over the weir, that would have taken some explaining.
She felt as though she was still floating, swimming. If only she could get really warm she would be asleep in no time. She was almost asleep now, and when Coll walked in she smiled sleepily at him.
He was terribly good-looking. She wished he liked her, because it was stupid not to like each other. He -put a beaker on the table by her bed and went to turn on the electric fire. He said nothing and he moved quietly, and it was ridiculous to walk out without saying a word, which was what he was doing.
As he reached the door she said, 'Coll,' and when he turned, wouldn't rather drown than reach for you.'
She held out a hand and he came back and took it in his hand. 'You're cold,' he said.
She said, 'Warm me,' and he sat down on the bed beside her and held her against him, gently stroking her back and shoulders. Dora snuggled closer, warmed and comforted by the feel and the smell of his smooth skin under the rough bathrobe, while a sweet sensuous languor was draining her of consciousness.
Her eyes were closed, her lids and limbs were heavy. She murmured, 'Hold me,' as though she was warm so long as his arms were around her, and then the velvet darkness covered her like a lover, and she slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.
CHAPTER EIGHT
DORA woke, warm, curled up, cuddling a pillow against her cheek. Her eyes opened slowly, widening as her mind began ticking, until she was trying frantically to peer over her shoulder without moving her head. She couldn't, nor could she hear anything, and the bed felt empty, except for herself.
Very cautiously she raised her head and there was no dark head, no long shape under the bedclothes. She sat up, shivering, feeling less muzzy than last night but a long way from brilliant. Thick. Stupid. Having difficulty in marshalling her memories beyond what might well have been the point of no return.
Coll had been here. She remembered that very plainly, and she had been in his arms, but between then and now she didn't know. She didn't even know what time it was. Tommy and Mrs Heaton could be downstairs, and it would certainly start tongues wagging if she was found here without a stitch of clothing within reach.
She pulled back the curtains, blinking at the impact of daylight. It was broad daylight, which meant it could be anything from around eight o'clock. Coll could still be in the house, or he could have left. But she had to get dressed, and she badly needed a cup of coffee.
There were clothes on a chair, the undies she had washed and left to dry—they were dry now; and her shoes, pretty strappy evening sandals, and a button-up overall. If Coll had brought those in he had probably gone, and that was an ordeal postponed; she wasn't up
to facing him yet. By this evening she might be, although she was not convinced that there would ever be a time when she would be able to look him in the face again.
She crept into the bathroom. The only sound in the house was from Tip trotting along beside her. Dora looked wearily at him and said, 'It's a pity you can't talk, you might tell me how much of a fool I made of myself,' and then, 'Or it might be a jolly good job that you can't. Probably the less said about it the better.'
Downstairs in the kitchen was the coffee cup and the plate from which Coll had breakfasted, and the clock said half past eight, so Tommy was due any minute; he always arrived between half eight and nine, and Mrs Heaton and the gardener around nine o'clock.
Dora made herself a cup of instant coffee and then took it upstairs. She went to Coll's room, feeling a little as she did walking into the dentist's surgery, only much worse. She could hardly turn the, door knob, in her other hand the cup was rattling in the saucer, and she stopped for another gulp of coffee in the corridor before she screwed up her courage enough to open the door.
She didn't need to go in. She could see the bed, smooth, unruffled, unslept in. She shut the door again and went to the room she had slept in for years, and it seemed last night with Coll, because she could be alone in there for a few minutes.
She couldn't face Tommy and Mrs Heaton, she couldn't face anyone until she had had t
ime to pull herself together. She made herself drink the coffee. As she put the cup and saucer on the dressing table she saw the note, 'Thank you, you were fantastic,' and
screwed it into a tight little ball and dropped it in the wastepaper basket.
She made the bed with nerveless hands, then sat down on it because her legs were boneless. So was her whole body. Her spine curved and she sat with her head in her hands, trying to remember.
She could remember that she had called Coll back from the door, and he had taken her hand and said it was cold. She remembered his touch and the comfort of his caress, stroking her hair and shoulders. For a moment she was lost in sensation, melting, then she jerked herself back and on to her feet, pacing up and down, scolding herself.
What a stupid thing to do, and she couldn't even remember. Although she concentrated until her head was throbbing she couldn't get past the image of Coll holding her and stroking her, and her feeling that she was safe, and home.
Safe! She nearly burst into hysterical laughter. There was no safety for her with him around. He was dangerous to her, her only enemy.
She was shivering, and she certainly couldn't go around all day dressed in a nylon overall and a pair of evening shoes. She'd better get home to the lodge and get dressed, so she went running down the stairs, just as she had when she had been dashing to the Fleece to accuse Coll of stealing her pearls. She didn't believe that any more, but she believed almost anything else about him. He was an unscrupulous opportunist, a taker. Probably the only reason he didn't take her pearls was because they weren't there to be stolen. She'd gone off wearing them.
She passed Tommy on his bicycle and he called,
'Morning, Miss Dora, what's the hurry?'
She was astonished that she should sound so cheerful and normal when she was feeling so confused and chaotic. When she got home she looked at herself in the mirror as though there should be some change, some sign in her face, but there wasn't. She put on her make-up, and a sweater and skirt, and changed her shoes; then she buttoned up the overall again and went back to the Manor.
She wouldn't think about last night because thinking wasn't making anything any clearer, and she'd keep very busy and get through the day that way.
In the library several shelves of old volumes had been replaced by Coll's books. Most of his books were even older, he had a collection of valuable first edi-tions. The original books were worth hardly anything, but Dora had thought it might be an idea to catalogue them some time, and today seemed the day to do it.
The books that had been replaced were in a packing case in a store room and she made a list of titles and authors, then went into the library to start on the shelves.
It all gave an illusion of industry and concentration, although it was really a time-killer because she was scared of finding herself with breathing space.
She had lunch, as usual, with Mrs Heaton and Tommy, and Alex, a retired shepherd who came over three days a week to do the gardens, and after lunch Tommy asked her, 'Would you feel like giving Loki a run?'
Dora gave Loki his head across the heath, galloping full out, but for once she couldn't blow away her worries, and as the day ended and the time came when she
would be seeing Coll again the stress continued to build up inside her until she hardly knew what she was doing.
What on earth was she going to do? Just suppose she and Coll had made love last night, could she carry it off as though she had had a string of lovers? What with riding and athletics it was unlikely she was still technically a virgin, only morally, but how could she act that kind of sophistication with any credibility? How could she pretend to be blasé and cynical when she wasn't, never had been and never would be? If only she knew what had happened!
She didn't want to be alone with him, but she couldn't bluff this out with Simon or Thea or anyone else listening. It was Friday evening and they usually came round on Friday evenings, but she had phoned them as soon as she got back from her ride over the heath and said that Coll was bringing work home tonight, how about them coming tomorrow?
'Yes, sure,' said Thea. 'Everything all right?'
'Much as usual,' said Dora, and bit her lip hard.
The meal was ready and she was still in the library when Coll arrived. Tip went to meet him and brought him to where she was, standing at a table jotting down titles and authors in alphabetical order. Dora said brightly, 'I've started cataloguing the books.'
She finished the line she was writing and straightened up; and he looked at her with that slow up-and-down look, and what was behind it this time? Triumph? Amusement?
'Hello,' he said.
'Hello.' She put down her ball-point pen, waiting for a couple of seconds to make sure it wasn't going to roll off the table, feeling as though she was doing
everything in slow motion. Very deliberately she pushed the papers tidily together and said, 'Dinner's ready,' and then, slowly, she turned towards him.
She had to walk past him to leave the room, and she knew he was going to block her way. He put an arm across the door, leaning against the side so that she would have to duck under his arm to get out.
'Dinner's always ready,' he said. 'You're a marvellous cook, an extraordinary woman.' The dark eyes gleamed under the dark lashes. 'But until last night I didn't quite realise how extraordinary.'
Dora drew in a quick breath. 'All that experience certainly pays off,' he added softly. 'Such versatility!'
'Which is more than I can say for your experience,' she said tartly. 'I can't remember a thing.'
'You can't?' His expression of horror was too stricken to be true. 'None of it? Shall I refresh your memory? I'm sure something will come back to you if we run over the ground again.'
She hoped he was teasing her, she wished she had the strength to be flippant and pretend she didn't care. But she did care, and she asked huskily, 'Please, what did happen?'
He dropped the arm that was barring her way out and shrugged, 'Nothing, I'm sorry to say. You were sleeping like a baby, so I tucked you up and left you.'
She was profoundly relieved for about four seconds, then she remembered, 'You didn't sleep in your own bed.'
Coll grinned. 'I made it this morning. I thought that and the thank-you note might give you something to think about. I owed you something for last night's dip.'
She had had a day she wouldn't forget in a hurry.
She was furious with him, and deep down a little aggrieved as though it was no compliment that he had tucked her up and left her. Anyhow, she could do her blasé act now with an easy mind.
'Well,' she drawled, 'you couldn't have wanted to seduce me very badly.'
'I do like a little co-operation,' he drawled too, One dark eyebrow raised, long mouth quirked at the corner. 'You were out to the world.'
She was. If she had slept less heavily she would have known she had slept peacefully and alone. 'All that wine you made me drink,' she muttered resentfully, and he fell back a pace.
'I made you drink? A fine lot of influence I had on you last night, swimming in the weir stretch at midnight. That was what laid you out.'
'Nonsense!' Although he could well be right. She said firmly, 'That did me no harm at all, it was lovely. Nothing better for the health than swimming,' and suddenly she sneezed.
She had been sniffing and sneezing all day, but this sneeze caught her by surprise and Coll began to laugh, and after she had dabbed her nose with a tissue Dora admitted, 'Somehow I do seem to have caught a cold. I suppose I can't blame that on the wine.'
They ate the evening meal together, and watched a play on television, then Dora said it was time she took herself and her sniffles home.
'You won't stay here?' Coll asked, and she laughed, but blushed as well, remembering what an idiot she had been.
'Thanks, but no, I won't push my luck.'
'You were lucky, Dora-Lily, you picked the right time to flake out.' He was smoking a cigar, the pale
blue smoke rising and the erotic ma
le smell of it in the air. Dora was getting used to the drawing room the way it was now, to Coll being master of the house. It would have been .nice to stay instead of turning out and walking down the drive to the lodge, which was cold these days because she was rarely in there long enough to bother lighting fires.
She had been eating shortbread biscuits, it had been a cosy evening. She said, `Come on, Tip.'
These days Tip seemed to consider himself as much-- Coll's dog as Dora's, and Coll encouraged him. He was Coll's pet, and perhaps Dora was becoming his pet too. Perhaps she entertained and amused him as the little dog did.
Maybe he wanted her, but not all that desperately, or last night when she was lying in his arms he would have kissed her and woken her and made love to her. Not desperately at all, and she got up and brushed a few crumbs off her skirt. `Come on,' she said again to the little dog who didn't want to leave the fire, nor Coll, it seemed. `Time to go home.'
When they were children Christmas had been a special time of year at the Manor House. There had been a magnificent tree in the hall, reaching higher than the gallery. There had been a splendid party, and guests staying on for New Year's Eve. Plans for Christmas had started as soon as they were into the month of November, but not this year, and this year November was cold and miserable.
Everyone seemed slightly depressed at the onset of winter,. and Dora was no exception. She was busy enough, but it was depressing weather, a lot of drizzle which took the pleasure out of riding and darkened
the house so that you had to keep lights on all day long. As Christmas came nearer she wondered whether there would be any celebrations in the house, if she should ask Coll what his plans were..
As it turned out she didn't have to ask. She was outside with Coll, talking to Tommy about some repairs needed on the stable roof, and it was cold, their breath was frosting in the air.
The black Hunter Page 14