by Anne Mather
'Well, it's all over. Everyone has gone, except my mother and father. I expect you're feeling pretty depressed.'
Sara nodded. 'Aren't we all?' she murmured.
Lauren gave her a speculative look. 'Some more than others, I would suppose,' she remarked sardonically, and Sara felt her nerves tighten.
'What do you mean?'
Lauren shrugged her elegant shoulders. 'Darling, don't be naive. You know perfectly well what I mean. After all, J.K. was your surety of a meal ticket for life, wasn't he?'
Sara stared at her in horror. 'You don't imagine that was how I thought of him?' she cried.
Lauren sighed. 'Oh, spare me the histrionics, darling, I don't blame you. A working girl has to grab every opportunity that comes her way. I suppose I would have done just the same in the same circumstances. Unfortunately, Jarrod isn't quite so gullible, is he?'
Sara got to her feet jerkily. 'How dare you speak to me like this?' she exclaimed. 'My reasons for coming here were purely unmercenary ones. I don't want J.K.'s money, I never did! He wanted me here--my grandfather had made that stupid clause in his will--and J.K. practically forced me into it!'
'Oh, come on!' Lauren lounged into a chair, crossing her legs and taking out her cigarettes. 'You don't think anyone, least of all Jarrod, believes that, do you? Heavens, as I've said, you were on to a good thing. Unfortunately it didn't last long enough for you to benefit from it. I should hazard a guess that in a couple of years you could have amassed quite a small fortune, with careful consideration.'
'How can you talk this way, when J.K. has hardly had time to settle in his coffin!' exclaimed Sara, her throat dry and uncomfortable. 'I thought you liked him!'
'So I did, darling, but I liked his money even more.' She gave a short laugh. 'How gauche you sound, Sara. Sometimes I could almost believe you were for real. Did you fall off the Christmas tree or something? Or were you always so green!'
'Oh, please!' Sara put her hands over her ears. 'This is terrible! Don't say any more! Anyway, I-- I shall be leaving, so that need not worry you!'
Lauren lit her cigarette, and drew deeply upon it. 'Darling, it doesn't bother me at all. It seems obvious now that Jarrod will want to settle down at last. As the eldest member of the family, he can hardly behave so carelessly, and I, as the most suitable candidate, should soon become Mrs. Jarrod Kyle.' She smiled. 'Doesn't that sound nice! Mrs. Jarrod Kyle!'
'It sounds delightful, darling,' remarked another voice, and Sara turned in astonishment to find Tracy Merrick leaning against the door post. 'My, my,
Lauren, you don't waste any time, do you? Are you already dividing up the estate into his and hers?'
Lauren rose to her feet, and the two faced each other angrily. Sara gave them a helpless look, then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. She had not known Tracy was here. She had not attended the funeral, so Jarrod must have sent for her.
She walked towards the stairs wearily, when Jarrod appeared from the study. Ah, there you are, Sara,' he said detachedly. 'We're waiting for you. Mr. Winstanley is here to read the will.'
'The will!' Sara pressed a hand to her throat. 'Oh, but that's nothing to do with me!'
'Oh,,but it is! All the beneficiaries are to be present. You are one of them--like it or not!'
And without giving her time to argue, he propelled her with undue haste into the study. Mr. Winstanley was there, with several of the servants, and Doctor Landry.
Sara stood near the door, refusing Jarrod's indication that she should be seated. She wanted none of this. It seemed hateful, dividing J.K.'s possessions so soon after his death. Her cheeks were pale, and she was conscious that for the first time in days Jarrod was studying her intently. Helen was not here, but Mr. Winstanley explained that she had been overcome with grief and would hear of her bequest later.
The servants were all left a substantial sum of money for their faithful service, and they filed out after their bequests were read. Then came Doctor Landry, who received a gift of ten thousand pounds, and the jade chessmen that Sara had so admired. Jarrod, of course, inherited the whole of J.K.'s estate, his controlling interest in Kyle Textiles and Malthorpe Hall. Sara was the final beneficiary, and she stiffened when Mr. Winstanley spoke her name.
'To my son's ward, Sara Robins, I bequeath my whole collection of antique porcelain and jade, my pictures and miniatures, for I know she will derive sufficient funds from their sale to live comfortably for the rest of her life.' Mr. Winstanley intoned the words solemnly, and Sara pressed the palms of her hands to her burning cheeks.
'Oh no !' she whispered, shaking her head. 'No. No!' She looked desperately at the solicitor. 'I can't --I can't! I don't want anything!' She glanced at Jarrod, who was watching her solemnly. 'Please, can't you see? J.K. owed me nothing--nothing at all!'
Jarrod moved. 'There is no mention of your requiring any payment,' he said briefly. 'The gift is what it is. A gift.'
Sara shook her head. 'I don't want them, I tell you,' she said, shaking her head desperately. 'Mr. Winstanley, I couldn't sell J.K.'s collection!'
Jarrod lifted the will from the desk. 'The collection is worth between fifty and sixty thousand pounds,' he said. 'You can sell it to me!'
Sara stared at him. 'To you?'
'Of course. That was what my father intended, I imagine.'
She continued to shake her head. 'You can have the collection! I don't want any part of it! Can't you see? I loved J.K.! I wish he was still here! I don't want your money!' Her voice broke off on a sob, and to her astonishment she felt tears streaming down her cheeks.
'My dear child----' began Doctor Landry, while
Mr. Winstanley looked uncomfortable.
Sara looked from Mr. Winstanley to Doctor Landry, and from them to Jarrod, standing so still, looking so dear and familiar suddenly, watching her, and she couldn't bear it. There was only one thing in this room she wanted, and he didn't even realise she had feelings.
She opened the door, thrusting her way out, ignoring the surprised glances of Tracy and Lauren who were standing in the wide hall. She ran up the stairs as though the devil himself was at her heels, sobbing uncontrollably, unaware that Jarrod was following her, his face strained, his eyes anxious. But Tracy and Lauren watched this sudden action, and their faces were astounded.
Sara ran to her room, throwing open the door, closing it, leaning back against it, aching with the misery she was experiencing. Oh God, she prayed violently, make the pain go away, make it go away soon.
She felt the door opening behind her, and pressed against it. 'Go away, go away, whoever it is,' she cried. 'Leave me alone I'
The door was pushed powerfully, and she was almost thrown off balance as Jarrod came in, closing the door himself, staring at her with tormented eyes. 'Oh, Sara,' he muttered, 'you're a crazy idiot, do you know that?'
Then, astonishingly, astoundingly, amazingly, he pulled her into his arms, pressing her close against the hard length of his body. 'This is what you wanted, isn't it?' he muttered, burying his face in her neck. 'You weren't fooling me down there, were you? What I read in your eyes was love, wasn't it?' His voice was husky with emotion, and he drew back to stare at her comprehendingly.
She wound her arms round his neck, crying and laughing at the same time. 'Oh, Jarrod,' she exclaimed, pulling his mouth to hers.
For a long while there was silence in the room. They were hungry for one another, and there was no assuaging Jarrod's emotions. At last, he drew back, pulling her down on to the bed beside him. 'Before you get anything else wrong, I love you,' he said, winding her hair round his fingers. 'But if you marry me you'll be marrying a man twice your age!'
'Are you asking me?' Sara stared at him.
'Are you accepting?'
'Oh yes, yes, yes!' Sara raised his hand to her cheek.
'But Sara, you're crazy! Why me? For me, it's different. I've been around. With you, you've your whole life ahead of you, and now you've got the means to live any kind of life
you choose.'
Sara sighed disbelievingly, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. 'You always underestimated me,' she murmured smilingly.
'I underestimated J.K. and most of all myself, but never you,' he muttered. 'Right from the beginning, I knew you were Trouble, with a capital T.'
'You didn't like me in those days,' said Sara, frowning at the remembrance.
'I resented you,' he corrected her gently. 'Don't you know you've twisted your way into my heart right from the very beginning? There you were, a wistful waif in that awful Mason woman's house, and I knew then that you were going to live in my house, disturbing me, and I resented you for it. No woman has ever disturbed me, and I guess after my father's unsatisfactory marriage I wanted no part of that kind of relationship.'
'You always treated me as though you hated me!'
He smiled. 'Well, maybe I did! After all, nobody likes to think they're vulnerable.' He sighed. 'And then when I picked you up off the road that night you got soaking wet, I found myself wanting you.' He traced her bone structure with his finger. 'Do you know what that means? Wanting you?'
'I suppose so,' she flushed.
'It means wanting to possess you, to possess your body and mind to the exclusion of anything else. And I was used to getting what I wanted. Oh yes, I admit it. And I hated myself because you were too young!'
'Oh no!'
'Oh yes. So I stayed away, even though I wanted to see you. I knew you'd been ill, but I couldn't trust myself. Then that night when you phoned you started it all again, and I had to come. When I saw you on the landing, looking so small and defenceless; it was all I could do not to touch you--to take you.' He sighed, kissing the curve of her ear. 'I want you now, do you know that?'
Her colour deepened becomingly. 'I'm very old for you,' he muttered, and she slid her arms round his neck.
'Go on,' she said, 'tell me the rest.'
He smiled. 'All right.' He caressed her arms softly. 'Well, J.K. arranged this trip to Jamaica, and
I knew he wasn't well. Doctor Landry had warned me of that, but he was so insistent that I couldn't refuse to take you.'
'So you didn't hate me then?'
'Hate you! Oh God!' Jarrod lay on his back on the bed staring at the ceiling. 'You have no idea what it was like, particularly as you persisted in taunting me. When I kissed you on the beach I couldn't help myself any longer. If we'd stayed in Jamaica, I would have told you the truth.'
Sara looked down at him lovingly. 'Oh, Jarrod,' she murmured, 'if only I'd known. I've loved you for so long. Right from the beginning, I think.'
Jarrod kissed her once and then sat up. 'Honey, we can't stay here,' he murmured. 'But before we go, I'll tell you something else. I think J.K. wanted this to happen. I think that's why he left you the collection, because he knew you would never be sure that I believed you when you said you came here because of him, and not because of the money. This way, he has given you the chance to escape if you want to.' He stood up, and thrust his hands into his trousers pockets. 'I guess I should give you that chance, too.'
'What do you mean?' Sara felt those cold fingers gripping her heart again.
'You rang the Bridchester warehouse yesterday and were told you had been given the position as trainee designer, is that right?'
Sara nodded. 'How did you know that?'
'Arnold Radcliffe is a friend of mine. He knew who you were. That's not why he gave you the job, I might add, before you start jumping to the wrong conclusions. But he's quite prepared to give you the
same position in his Paris office, and I think maybe that's what you should do.'
Sara stared at him, ice cold now. 'Jarrod!'
He turned away. 'Don't look at me like that, Sara.'
Sara shook her head incredulously. 'Jarrod, you said you loved me!' Her voice broke.
He swung round. 'I know--and I do! But can't you see how it is with me? I'm a very possessive man--what I have, I hold. You're too young to be shackled like that. I shouldn't have spoken yet!'
'Jarrod!' She pressed her hand to her throat. 'Jarrod, no!'
He bent his head. 'You're making it very hard for me,' he said unsteadily.
Sara suddenly realised her own powers over him. With an angry movement she twisted herself into his arms, pressing herself close against him.
'Now say it,' she demanded angrily. 'Now tell me I must go to Paris!'
Jarrod stiffened, and then his arms went round her, and she knew she had won. 'Oh, Sara,' he muttered, 'it's as I said. You are a witch!'
'A Sea Witch?' she asked impishly.
'No--a moon witch,' he answered,"burying his face in her silky hair.
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN