‘Like a chance to meet him?’
‘Not particularly.’
‘Oh, come on, Ruth, it will be fun. The D.O. is bringing him to the Club tonight especially to meet a few people. You’ll have to meet him some time. Why not tonight? I want to see you, anyway.’
She stretched back her shoulders. ‘I’ve had a hard day, Gareth. I’ve been working until now.’
‘Well, take a rest and I’ll come out and fetch you. You’d be doing me a favour. If you don’t come I shall be the odd man out. Everybody else is going—and they’re mostly paired off into husband and wife teams.’
She relented. ‘All right, Gareth—but I’m not dressing up for him. There’ll be enough of that, I imagine.’
‘Come just as you are.’
She laughed. ‘In the gear I was wearing this morning? I look a sight.’
‘You looked all right to me this morning. Have you eaten yet?’
‘Not since lunch.’
‘Well, you must have something. Tell you what—Jill’s just made the most enormous steak and kidney pie. I’ll come and fetch you and you can help to eat it. Then we’ll all go along to the Club and meet this new bloke. I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Right?’
‘Yes, all right. You’ve talked me into it.’
Ruth hung up and rubbed the back of her neck to ease the stiffness. She didn’t really want to go out. On the other hand, she was missing her father and felt restless.
To ease her aching neck she flung herself down on to the long settee and arranged the cushions in a way which relaxed her neck and shoulders. She would just have a few minutes’ rest, then change. She couldn’t very well go to the Club like this. She had no intention of dressing to impress this new Head Forester, but at the same time she didn’t want to go to the other extreme. She closed her eyes and relaxed and felt her weariness flowing out of her.
It was a ring at the front door bell which roused her, and she realised she had fallen asleep. Gareth had called for her, and she hadn’t even washed her hands and face.
‘Don’t worry,’ Gareth told her. ‘You’ve been to the club like that before. The steak and kidney pie is waiting. Besides, I should think it will be good for Ross Hamilton to realise that not every woman is out to impress him. You should see Jill—even though she is married.’
For some reason Ruth suddenly thought about the man she had encountered in the Forest that morning. From the sound of things the new Forester was just such a man—the very worst kind of male chauvinist, certainly not worth dressing up for.
‘Just give me two minutes,’ she said to Gareth. ‘Out of courtesy to Jill and Hugh I must at least wash my hands, but they’re used to seeing me like this—and the New Forester can lump it.’
The news that the new Head Forester was to be at the Club that evening had spread like a forest fire, according to Gareth’s sister.
‘There’s going to be a terrific crowd there. The phone hasn’t stopped ringing all afternoon,’ she informed them as she served the meal—dressed, Ruth noticed, in one of her best outfits.
‘I can’t think what all the fuss is about,’ she answered. ‘Anyone would think we’ve never had anyone new on the Beat before.’
‘That’s what I keep saying,’ said Hugh, her husband. ‘But you know what women are.’
‘I know what men are, too,’ Jill retorted. ‘Look at all the fuss the men made when that new woman doctor came to live here. The men were falling over themselves to date her, married or single. So you have no room to talk.’
Hugh shrugged and grinned a little sheepishly. ‘Well, I suppose it’s only natural. We’re something of a close-knit community when you come to think of it. A new face always arouses a certain amount of interest.’
‘But never quite so much as Ross Hamilton has,’ Gareth said.
‘Some of you men get too complacent,’ Jill returned. ‘It will do you good to have a bit of competition.’ She cast a meaningful glance at Ruth.
Ruth gave a brief laugh. ‘You can count me out of any “competition”. He sounds just the kind of man I love to hate.’
‘Well, you’re just the one who’s most likely to fall,’ Jill told her. ‘Is that why you haven’t bothered to change?’
‘Partly, and partly because I didn’t have time. I worked late and fell asleep. If it hadn’t been for Gareth, I probably wouldn’t have come at all.’
‘In that get-up,’ Jill told her, with the candidness of an old friend, ‘he’ll probably notice you even more.’
‘I don’t care whether he does or whether he doesn’t,’ asserted Ruth.
Jill rushed them through their meal. ‘If we’re late, we shan’t get a table—and I don’t like standing at the bar.’
The Foresters’ Club was a pleasant place. It was fairly new, and Ruth had been commissioned to paint a mural along the whole of one wall which depicted a forest scene. Other paintings of hers graced the other walls, and the whole atmosphere was bright and at the same time restful, with comfortable chairs, and tables made of natural wood.
Already the place was almost full and they had to share a table with one of the other Foresters and his wife, Jack and Doris Hetherington.
Gareth went to the bar to get drinks for them all.
‘The new man’s not here yet, then?’ Hugh said to Jack.
‘Haven’t seen any strangers,’ answered Jack. ‘I wonder why we’re being treated to this preview. He’s not due until Monday.’
‘Must be eager to make a start. Still, it is Friday, after all.’
Gareth came back with the drinks and Doris passed some remark about Ruth soon having to get out of her house. Then all at once there was a slight lull in the conversation.
‘Here he is now, by the look of things,’ Gareth said as the District Officer came in followed by a tall stranger.
‘Oh, no!’ Ruth clapped her hand to her mouth and stared. It was the man she had met in the forest that morning. ‘I might have known,’ she said slowly.
Gareth gave her a puzzled look. ‘What’s the matter? Do you know him?’
Ruth gave a long sigh and shook her head. ‘Not really. I came across him in the pinewood inclosure this morning. He passed one or two remarks I took a very strong exception to. I didn’t know who he was, and of course he didn’t know who I was—unless the D.O. has furnished him with a full description or photograph, which seems unlikely. But I certainly took an instant dislike to him.’
Gareth glanced at her face. ‘Good lord! If looks could kill right now, he’d be dead. But what on earth did he say to you? It’s not like you to dislike people so easily.’
Ruth continued to watch Ross Hamilton through narrowed eyes as the D.O. propelled him to the bar.
‘He’s every bit as insufferable as we thought he would be. I can’t ever remember feeling so infuriated with anyone!’
Gareth gave a slow smile. ‘That’s very, very interesting. I don’t think he’s seen you yet. I wonder what his reaction will be when he realises who you are?’ ‘Goodness knows. I’ve half a mind to go home. I’m not at all sure I want to meet him.’
‘Don’t do that,’ Gareth said swiftly. ‘If you go, I shall have to go, too, and as I said earlier on, you’ve got to meet him some time—officially, I mean. We all have. It’s a wonder to me that the D.O. didn’t take him to see over the house as he’s in the area.’
Ruth grunted. ‘It might have been better if he had. Under those circumstances I don’t suppose he would have been so rude. On the other hand, I don’t think it would have much mattered how I’d first met him. A man like that can’t hide what he is for long. I don’t envy you your new boss.’ She had a niggling feeling that she might be misjudging the man. After all, she had only had the briefest of encounters with him. Perhaps he improved on further acquaintance. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said swiftly to Gareth. ‘I didn’t mean to prejudice you against him.’
Gareth laughed and put his arm across her shoulders. ‘Don’t worry. I’m already prejudiced—an
d I trust your judgement, anyway. Look out, I think the D.O. is bringing him across.’
Having been served with their tankards of ale the D.O. was propelling him in their direction. Ruth suddenly found her anger against the man evaporating. Now she felt more amused, wondering how he would react when he saw her. Then she became annoyed with herself and a little panicky. She ought to still feel annoyed with him, but she didn’t, and couldn’t somehow resurrect her anger. There was something enormously compelling about him—his dark, rugged face, the way he walked. Ruth found her heart beating a little faster and was inwardly furious with herself. This was ridiculous. Before she knew where she was she was going to fall for all those charms he was supposed to have.
But as he drew near the table at which she was sitting, he looked straight at her, and again came that smile of sardonic amusement. She compressed her lips, her jaw tightening and her whole body becoming taut.
The two came to a halt and the D.O., a pleasant, if rather artificial kind of man, smiled politely.
‘Ah, there you are, Ruth. Meet our new Head Forester, Ross Hamilton. Hamilton, this is Ruth Medway. You must get her to show you the house. I’m sure you’ll like it. It’s in a perfect position for seeing the Beat overall.’
Ross regarded Ruth with narrowed eyes. ‘Miss Medway and I sort of—met this morning.’ His eyes—a startling blue—flicked over her appearance. ‘I’d have recognised her from her—er—apparel, if nothing else.’
Ruth made no attempt to offer her hand. She just stared at him without smiling.
‘This is my working gear, Mr.—er—Hamilton. It hardly seemed worth the effort to change for this evening.’
She hoped she had made her meaning clear. There was a faint lifting of his dark brows. The D.O. gave an embarrassed little cough and quickly introduced Gareth. It was then she realised that Gareth still had his arm across her shoulders. Unhurriedly, he removed it to proffer his hand to the newcomer.
‘Glad to meet you,’ he said, and managed to sound almost convincing.
Ross Hamilton shook hands with him briefly and merely nodded before the D.O. passed on to the others seated at the table.
Ruth sat tense and angry as vaguely, she heard Jill’s effusive expressions of pleasure at meeting him, hoping he would be happy in the New Forest and inviting him to have dinner with them one evening.
‘It looks as though he’s going to be an instant success with the ladies, anyhow,’ Gareth muttered in Ruth’s ear as soon as the new Forester and the D.O. had passed on to the next table.
‘Well, not with this lady, I can assure you,’ Ruth answered between her teeth.
Gareth took her hand. ‘Good for you! Keep it that way. Even I noticed the sarcastic smile on his face. I think he finds you amusing.’
‘That’s more than I find him. If the D.O. wants to show him the house, he’s welcome to do so—when I’m out.’
Jill leaned over. ‘Well, what do you think of him?’ she enquired of Ruth, a faint flush on her cheeks and an excited look in her eyes.
Gareth laughed. ‘Better not ask her. She met him earlier today, it seems, and they had something of an up-and-downer.’
‘A row, you mean? Oh, do tell us, Ruth. What happened?’
But Ruth was not going to be drawn into giving a blow-by-blow account of what had happened at her first meeting with Ross Hamilton.
‘I don’t want to talk about it. We each thought the other had no right to be in the inclosure, that’s all, but he was very rude about it.’
‘And you weren’t?’ quizzed Jill. ‘You’re a bit of a firebrand at times, aren’t you? I think he’s terrific—that stern look and touch of arrogance. A real he-man.’
Her husband raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Ye gods! Listen to her! Just remember you’re married to me, that’s all.’
‘Why is it,’ Gareth said reflectively, ‘that women seldom marry the type they profess to admire so much? Hugh isn’t either stern or arrogant, but just simply a nice guy—’
‘Maybe that’s why Ross Hamilton has remained a bachelor, so far,’ Ruth said. ‘He must be all of thirty. And men seldom marry the women they profess to admire, either.’ She added, ‘Maybe that’s why Linda Appleton is still single.’
Gareth gave her a surprised look. ‘Why bring Linda into it?’
‘Because she’s just come in through the door with one of our Foresters,’ answered Ruth.
For a minute or two conversation ceased as everyone looked across the room. Linda was the sort of woman who often brought a lull in the conversation. She was a strikingly good-looking woman and had the money to spend on making herself so. She was tall with fair hair which always looked perfectly groomed and was always dressed in the very latest fashion.
Tonight, she was wearing a most dramatic and eye-catching outfit in a dazzling white shiny material of the kind often seen in fashion shows, but rarely anywhere else except perhaps in smart London circles, but certainly not in the country. She stood just inside the doorway and looked all around the room, quite aware, Ruth guessed, of the sensation her appearance had caused.
‘I didn’t know she was friendly with Jason,’ muttered Gareth.
‘You never know with Linda,’ said Jill. ‘But I wonder—’
She was silenced by the smile of recognition which suddenly lit Linda’s face as her searching eyes lighted upon Ross Hamilton.
She advanced towards him. ‘Why, Ross, how marvellous to see you again! So sorry I wasn’t in when you called—and I’ve only just this minute got your message.’
A slow smile spread across his face the like of which made Ruth’s erratic heart miss a beat, much to her disgust.
By now, everyone in the club room watched as the two greeted each other in what could only be called a fond embrace.
‘Staking her claim, you might say,’ murmured Hugh. ‘I wonder if she’s the reason for his coming here?’
Ruth was wondering that, too. Did he intend marrying her? If so, she would have to get out of the Forester’s house pretty quickly. The idea worried her somewhat. She hated having to take time off from her work. She knew nothing about house-hunting and viewed the whole thing as a tiresome bore and a terrific undertaking.
Then she gave a twisted smile as she saw the D.O. trying to move the new Forester on to meet more people. If he and Linda Appleton were all that friendly, or there was a possibility of marriage there, some of the women who had been excited at the prospect of claiming Ross Hamilton’s attentions for themselves were in for a disappointment.
‘Now where in the world did he meet her?’ muttered Jill in a disgruntled tone.
Ruth laughed. ‘I don’t see that it affects you all that much, Jill. You’ve got a perfectly good husband of your own.’
‘Yes, of course, but it does make life a little more interesting when there’s a good-looking, unattached male around.’
Ruth shrugged. ‘I don’t happen to think he’s all that good-looking.’
‘Well, not in a film-star, sort of polished sense, perhaps, but a man doesn’t have to be good-looking to be attractive.’
Almost Ruth agreed with her, then her mouth set in a mutinous line. ‘As far as I’m concerned there’s nothing in the least attractive about him,’ she muttered. But even as she was speaking she noticed the easy grace with which he moved, the firm set of his broad shoulders and the proud tilt of his head. Damn him, she said to herself. He is attractive, altogether too much so. For a wild moment she wanted to stride over to him, thrust everyone else aside—including Linda—put her arm in his and say: ‘He’s mine.’
She wanted to kick herself. She was doing what she swore she would never do—succumbing to his dubious charms already.
In desperation she turned to Gareth. ‘For goodness’ sake, let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough.’
‘Can’t,’ he muttered. ‘The D.O.’s bringing him over here again.’
‘Oh, no—Well, I’ll get a taxi—’
B
ut with Linda in tow, having deserted the hapless Jason, the D.O. and Ross Hamilton were already approaching their table. Not wishing to be blatantly rude at any rate to the D.O., Ruth subsided in her seat. There was a general shuffling around and more chairs were found. Ross turned to Linda and whispered something in her ear. She pouted, then smiled sweetly.
‘All right, Ross darling, but don’t be long.’
She strolled over to where her escort was waiting. Obviously Ross had suggested she leave them. He probably wanted to talk to the Foresters who were going to work under him. These included Gareth and Hugh, and Ted Withers along with Harry Fisher who sat at an adjoining table. Linda was not, generally speaking, considered to be one of the Forest people.
The atmosphere around the table had changed noticeably with the arrival of Ross Hamilton and the D.O. All polite and unnatural.
‘It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Hamilton,’ came from Jill in her most far-back voice. ‘I do hope you’ll settle down and be happy among us. We—we’re not a bad crowd, really.’
‘I’m sure—’ he answered, his dark face not moving a muscle. He looked all around at the club room. ‘This is a very nice place,’ he said. ‘Who painted the mural?’
Gareth put his arm across Ruth’s shoulder again. ‘Oh, that’s the work of our artist here. We’re very proud of her.’
Ross Hamilton’s cool glance went from Ruth to Gareth and then back to Ruth again. ‘I can see that,’ he said in a noncommittal fashion, not saying whether he liked, or did not like, the painting. ‘And the other pictures, too? Are they her work?’
‘They certainly are.’
Again, no comment. Ruth felt her scalp pricking and her anger rising. He was being deliberately rude again.
‘As I think I told you,’ The D.O. said quickly, as if sensing a tension between them, ‘Miss Medway is, at the moment, living in the Head Forester’s house. I’m sure she’ll let you know when she’s found something suitable for herself. But of course, as you yourself have said, there’s no hurry.’
Ross Hamilton inclined his head in agreement. ‘In the meantime, perhaps Miss Medway would allow me to look the place over. I’m thinking of getting married—and of course I shall want a family.’
Man of the Trees Page 2