Winds from the Sea

by Margaret Pargeter

  Now for ‘Mr. Hugh’, she thought crossly, making her way to the kitchen again. Almost certainly Biddy would be up in a day or two, but in the meantime if Hugh intended that she should do the cooking then he would have to manage in the office by himself. She couldn’t do both, and it would do him no harm to find out that she wasn’t as compliant as he thought.

  She found him waiting in the kitchen, standing by the window looking out on to the courtyard, the wide bulk of his shoulders almost filling the long, narrow opening. For a suspended moment a strange excitement held her silent.

  He swung around, hearing her footsteps, his eyes flickering across her young flawless face. “Good morning, Sara. I thought it would help if I had breakfast here with you.”

  How cosy it sounded, if a girl didn’t sense the thread of masculine impatience underneath. His smile scarcely concealed the fact that he didn’t appreciate this change of routine. Sara nodded coolly as she popped some rashers of bacon under the grill.

  “How many eggs do you like?” she asked sharply, reaching for the frying pan.

  Hugh’s smile broadened with amusement as he came and stood beside her. “We’re not in a very good mood this morning, are we?” He glanced down his straight nose at her, his eyes brilliantly mocking. “Are you annoyed with me because I asked you to do this?”

  In spite of herself Sara laughed, her anger subsiding. “Not really.” Her blue eyes met his, greatly daring. “But you do enjoy giving orders.”

  “You don’t mind helping out, do you, Sara?”

  “Not if I’m asked properly.” She knew she was being childish, but some streak of perverseness made her go on, even while she was aware that he was baiting her deliberately.

  He grinned. “I’m too used to giving orders, Sara. I’ve almost forgotten how to ask—properly. Perhaps you can teach me?” He still towered over her against the cooker. He had been out riding and smelt faintly, sensually, of good leather and hones. Sara’s senses responded traitorously.

  “Well, I can’t do everything!” Attempting to regain her lost composure, she broke an egg recklessly into the hot fat. “What about the office?”

  She didn’t win this round either!” I could always ask Beth when she looks in this evening,” he said blandly, his eyes on the smooth whiteness of her throat where her shirt lay open at the neck, “She did offer.” Sara spooned fat over the eggs too quickly, and a small gasp of pain escaped her as the hot liquid splashed on her bare arm. She dropped the spoon and snatched her arm, tears of despair clouding her eyes as she tried to cover the burnt patch with her hand.

  There was a smothered exclamation from Hugh. “Here, let me see that!” Tersely he took her hand away and inspected the damage. “I thought Katie was the only careless one around here. How many more times do I have to rescue you, I wonder?” Glancing swiftly at her shocked face, he went to a cupboard and returned with a tube of ointment which he smeared liberally over the burn. It was the second time since it had happened that he had alluded to her accident on the cliffs!

  “That’s enough,” Sara cried sharply, as he emptied the tube. His fingers seemed to burn more than the fat, and she felt defensively shaken. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, rather shamefaced, withdrawing her arm. “It’s nothing really. I expect I got a fright.”

  She could smell something burning and moved away from him to rescue the frying pan. “If you like I could work in the office after lunch, after I’m finished here. Katie should be able to manage for an hour or two.”

  “So we won’t need Beth after all,” he tacked on, suavely, glancing at her speculatively from narrowed eyes as he searched in the first-aid box for a bandage.

  “Not necessarily, but just as you like.” Sara’s even white teeth caught her bottom lip sharply. She held out her arm obediently while he tied the bandage firmly and expertly, his deft movements speaking of considerable experience. Her arm still hurt, but she felt a slow colour coming back into her cheeks. She didn’t know why, but she didn’t care for the idea of Beth ‘helping out’, and had a certain feeling that Hugh guessed. The odd quirk at the side of his mouth proclaimed it.

  He gave the bandage a small purposeful twitch. “When you’ve finished sorting things out in that attractive head of yours, do you think we might have breakfast? A hot cup of tea and a couple of these should see you through.” Silently he handed her the aspirin bottle which she had placed on the table herself after earning down from Biddy.

  “Thank you,” Sara said tonelessly, her voice empty of gratitude. Was he deliberately punishing her for her contrariness? His advice was sound. It was exactly what her father might have given, only he wasn’t her father, but a much younger man whom she was becoming increasingly aware of. She was also aware that she was curiously sensitive about his spartan treatment of her arm, in spite of her own protests that, the burn was only superficial. And especially after the rather satisfying intensity of his first reactions. He had had much more real sympathy with Beth and her flat tyre! Resentfully she turned to lay the table.

  Determinedly, she allowed herself no time to sulk. After breakfast she kept busy and out of Hunt’s way. While she prepared lunch sine pondered on the intricacies of working in a private household. It fared a certain intimacy one didn’t find in an ordinary office, which might be dangerous if she couldn’t keep her involvement on an impersonal level. It grew increasingly difficult to think of Hugh strictly as her boss. Her inclination earlier this morning to bury her head against his shoulder had been wholly disconcerting! Perhaps it was just as well that his momentary concern had turned to indifference.

  Some time later she managed to contact the family doctor on the telephone—Ian McKenzie. After much searching she found his number on an old card index in a cupboard in the hall. She must remember to ask Hugh about a proper directory. So far she hadn’t seen one.

  Tentatively she rang the surgery and managed to speak to the doctor himself. Yes, he would pop in and see Biddy later, and bring some more tablets.

  “It’s often a question of trial and error,” he sighed, when she mentioned the fate of Biddy’s previous supply. And when she had rather timidly suggested that bed might be the best treatment, he had snorted loudly, “Just you try keeping her there!” and rung off.

  It just wasn’t her day, Sara decided wryly, as she helped Katie prepare Jill’s room. Katie confided that her boy-friend wasn’t coming to see her that weekend.

  “I’m getting tired of him, anyway,” she said crossly, dusting the furniture with unnecessary vigour until the wood gleamed. ‘‘He’s working on the mainland in one of the hotels, and they’re so busy he can hardly get away. If he’s not careful I’ll be looking for somebody else!”

  The hidden threat in her voice made Sara smile as she gave the satin bedspread a final flick. It didn’t seem to be Katie’s day either, but the knowledge brought no consolation, only a mounting despair.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Shortly after lunch Hugh went to Salen to meet his stepsister off the plane. Sara was in her room later in the afternoon when she heard a quick knock on her door, and without waiting to be invited a small fair girl with a gay, vivacious smile wandered in.

  Her eyebrows were question marks as she said lightly. “I believe you’re Hugh’s new secretary? I thought I’d come and look you over.” She broke off abruptly to stare wide-eyed at Sara, “I must say I didn’t expect to see anyone quite like you! Wherever did he find you?”

  “He didn’t, actually. I was sent,” Sara replied evenly, shooting the girl a quick glance as she put down her hairbrush. She realized instinctively that this was Jill, although she in no way resembled her brother, apart from possibly sharing his arrogance. That strange mixture of arrogance and familiarity which could be so confusing, but proclaimed more than anything else could have done that she was a member of this particular branch of the Fraser family. She waited in silence as Jill obviously pondered on what she had said.

  “Sent?” The girl’s light voice sharpened with curi
osity as she noted Sara’s slender good looks. “What on earth do you mean by that? Who sent you?”

  Sara blinked, startled by the almost unfriendly tone of Jill’s voice. It took her all her time to keep back an equally sharp retort. Somehow she had a feeling that in spite of her manner, Jill wasn’t being intentionally rude. She struck Sara, in that instant, as being very much on the defensive, and trying to hide it. Her brown eyes, as she watched Sara, held a certain wariness, a hint of suspicion which was not easily concealed. Surely Hugh hadn’t said anything to antagonize his sister at this early stage? But it might be better to tread carefully.

  Rather vaguely, she smiled. “Mr. Fraser asked his solicitor to send him a secretary—so I’m here.”

  “Oh, I see.” Jill’s expression said quite clearly that she didn’t. It was still dubious as for a brief second she contemplated Sara’s smooth complexion. Then suddenly, as if deciding to change her tactics, she held out her hand, “I’m Jill,” she explained, somewhat unnecessarily. “And I’m sorry if I’ve seemed a bit rude. But you can blame Hugh. He never explains anything properly, and always rubs me up the wrong way.”

  So he had been saying something! Sara frowned. “I’m afraid I’m not with you?” Deliberately she phrased her question lightly, concealing a stab of dismay.

  Jill took her time, smiling complacently, rather like a cat as she curled herself snugly into Sara’s armchair. Obviously she sensed Sara’s discomfort and, perversely, was in no hurry to alleviate it. “He’s been telling me,” she smiled, “that you’re here partly for my benefit. So out of character that he should consider little me. Why should he suddenly consider that I need a keeper? Or a nursemaid? Can you wonder if I’m suspicious? Certainly there’s no reason why he should put himself out for me!”

  “I’m afraid you’ve got me all wrong.” Somewhat relieved, Sara sat down on the end of her bed. Jill was certainly mixed up, although it might have been better if Hugh had said nothing at all. A twinge of irritation replaced her former dismay. Men very rarely appeared to display much finesse when dealing with a younger sister. “I’m actually here to help clear up your uncle’s estate, and I only expect to be here for a few weeks. So I don’t think that you have much to worry about.”

  Contrary to what she had hoped, Jill wasn’t so easily put off. Her eyes narrowed with a surprising shrewdness. “Your motives might be clear,” she frowned, “but how about Hugh?”

  Sara hesitated, just slightly. So far Jill had made no reference whatsoever to the boy-friend whom Hugh was alarmed about, but it did seem obvious that he was on her mind. Well, Sara had no intention of getting involved in any family disputes if she could help it, and unless Jill asked specifically, didn’t intend mentioning him herself. Fortunately Hugh wouldn’t want her to either, as it was only with comparative secrecy that his plan could hope to succeed. Feeling rather ashamed of her own astuteness, Sara replied more warmly than she might otherwise have done.

  “Don’t you think that you’re making a bit much of this, Jill? Mr. Fraser did tell me that he feels a certain responsibility, especially when you’ve been ill, and, I suppose, because your mother’s in America.”

  “And when she returns he’ll hand me back like a parcel, all neatly labelled and undamaged! Poor Hugh. I guess I get the picture.” Jill laughed derisively, her brown eyes flashing. “I’m afraid he hates encumbrances of any kind. Mummy always says this is why he never married. That his conscience wouldn’t allow him to roam the world and leave his poor little wife at home!”

  Sara jumped uncomfortably to her feet, aware that Jill watched her closely, as if still not completely satisfied. Jill was crafty! She might be spoilt, but basically she was sensible enough. She seemed to know what she was after. Sara didn’t. Like her brother Jill appeared to employ devious methods, and Sara instinctively felt that at the moment, her best form of defence was to retreat.

  “I must fly!” she exclaimed, glancing swiftly at her watch:. “If you will excuse me. I almost forgot about Biddy. She’s ill in bed, and I must go and see how she is.”

  “Oh, that reminds me ...” Jill yawned as she unwound herself lazily from the chair and stretched her arms. “Hugh did tell me that Doctor McKenzie would like to see you. That’s actually why I’m here.” Half-way through the door Sara stopped. Turning her gleaming head, she threw Jill an exasperated look. “You could have told me sooner!”

  “Sorry, I forgot.” Still indifferent, Jill shrugged. “But don’t worry. He’s an old dear. I’m sure he won’t mind being kept waiting, especially by a girl who looks like you.”

  Without waiting to hear more, Sara fled and sped downstairs. She knew all about doctors being old dears! They were just as often overworked and grumpy, and objected to being kept hanging around. More than likely he had gone by now, and she had wanted to talk to him about Biddy.

  To her surprise Hugh was in the hall, standing talking to a younger man. Probably a neighbour? And to her dismay she could see no sign of any doctor.

  Hugh turned as she walked towards them over the thick carpet, his dark eyes slanting to her anxious face, a faint smile edging his firm mouth. “I think you’d better meet Doctor McKenzie, Sara, as you seem to have taken charge of Biddy.”

  Sara might have managed a dry retort if she hadn’t felt so silly. It had just been a figure of speech, she supposed, as she shook hands. Unless Ian McKenzie really did seem old to Jill. Somehow, she doubted it. The doctor was not handsome, but his face had a certain charm, a homespun attraction all of its own. He was younger than Hugh, and, like herself, very fair.

  She sensed in his regard a quickening interest. There was nothing subtle about his admiration. It was clearly to be seen in his grey eyes.

  “So you’re the young lady who intends keeping Biddy in bed,” he smiled, retaining his firm grip on her slim fingers, his eyes fixed on her flushed cheeks.

  That Dr. McKenzie was acting somewhat out of character Sara had no means of knowing, but she did know that she found his obvious appreciation stimulating after a particularly tedious morning. Femininely ignoring Hugh’s slight frown, a responsive smile curved her lips.

  “I’m going to try.” Carefully she extricated her fingers, as she asked if he had left any tablets, “Biddy couldn’t remember just what you’ve been giving her.”

  “I’ve got some in the car, if you’d like to come with me and get them.’’ Ian didn’t take his eyes from Sara’s face. “If you can persuade her to take them and stay in bed, so much the better.”

  “I’ll try,” Sara repeated, suddenly very much aware of Hugh in the background watching them cynically. She pretended an indifference she didn’t feel as she smiled again at the doctor. She wasn’t a stranger to his intolerance, but was dismayed that it was beginning to hurt.

  She was surprised, and not a little annoyed, when he intervened dryly, “As you’re obviously not in a hurry, Ian, you might take a look at Sara’s arm before you go. She spilt some hot fat on it this morning. I’m afraid she’s not always as efficient as she seems.”

  Sara’s eyes flew open wrathfully as she met his sardonic gaze. Her arm did hurt, but not that much! Foolishly she wished he hadn’t mentioned it. She dragged her eyes away from his, smiling at Ian, trying a little desperately to regain a sense of balance.

  I don t think you should bother,” she protested, as Ian made to remove the bandage. She disregarded his sudden frown. “I had a look at it myself after lunch and it’s quite all right.”

  “How do you know?” Ian’s frown deepened impatiently. “Have you had any nursing experience? Even a small burn can be nasty.”

  “But I’ve seen dozens!” Slung by the reproving note in his voice, Sara allowed her agitation to run away with discretion. “I used to help my father. He was a doctor, too.”

  Half reassured, Ian let go of her arm, although his reluctance was obvious. “Well, just as you like.” His keen eyes dwelt on her consideringly. “All the same, while we’re seeking Biddy’s tablets I’ll give you someth
ing you might like to try. At least it can’t do any harm.” With a brief word of farewell to Hugh he guided her out through the door.

  When she returned, ten minutes later, Hugh was gone, and she could see no sign of him in the library when she went to see if he needed any immediate help. Ian had insisted that she had a proper dressing on her arm, and this had taken time. And Sara didn’t care to admit, even to herself, that she had lingered with Ian deliberately, hoping to avoid Hugh and any caustic remarks he might make about her behaviour when she got back.

  For the remainder of the afternoon Jill plagued her in the kitchen, already complaining of being bored. She laughed with Katie whom she knew well, and teased Sara about Ian McKenzie.

  “I saw you holding hands in the hall. What were you discussing so earnestly? Surely not Biddy’s arthritis? I told Hugh afterwards that Ian seemed quite smitten.”

  Sara sighed, glancing at Jill’s mischievous face, thankful that Katie was in the larder. “You told me that Doctor McKenzie was an old dear,” Heavily she emphasized the last two words.

  Jill giggled unrepentantly. “Well, isn’t he? Uncle David used to say he was born old—old and overbearing. All he ever prescribed for me was a lecture!”

  Sara tried unsuccessfully to conceal a grin as she bent to pop a casserole into the oven. Perhaps it wasn’t Jill’s fault that she seemed much younger than she actually was. She was amusing, but her inconsequential chatter might get wearisome. It might be better not to mention that Ian had asked her out with him to a party. A ceilidh, he had called it. With so much to do here, she hadn’t felt free to accept, but neither had she turned him down. She had promised to let him know some time in the next week or so.