by Lucy Gillen
‘Professional secrets?’ he teased, and laughed at her worried frown. ‘Take it easy,’ he said. ‘His secrets are safe enough!’
Tarin was remembering the letter from the accountant and the other from New York, both of which Darrel would hate to have in unauthorised hands, and shook her head uneasily. ‘There were some lettersâ’ she began, then hastily recalled that Darrel would almost certainly not want his partners to know about them in view of the seeming distrust between them, and shook her head. ‘I shouldn’t have left the office unattended,’ she said. ‘I must get back, Mr. SteinâCon.’
He still held her hands and made no move to release her or to change his rather indolent position against the wall of the house. ‘Don’t fret so much,’ he told her. ‘You’re leaving this week, so why should you worry who walks in and reads his letters?’
‘Of course I do!’ She pulled her hands free and looked at him for a moment with reproachful blue eyes. ‘I’m still responsible for the office when Darrel isn’t there, and I couldn’tâ’
It was almost as if mentioning his name had brought him into view, and Tarin’s heart lurched anxiously when she saw the familiar figure coming through the rear entrance into the stable yard. She spared not another glance for Conrad Stein, but gave a breathless little gasp of realisation and ran swiftly in through the back door of the house before she was spotted.
There were a couple of guests in the hall as she sped across it to the office and once again Gloria Stein appeared as if from nowhere just before she reached the office door. The blonde woman’s eyes took in her breathless and anxious state and she smiled meaningly, one brow raised as if in comment.
‘While the cat’s away?’ she remarked softly, as Tarin hurried past her, and Tarin felt the colour warm her cheeks at the misinterpretation.
She felt short of breath and angry with herself for letting Conrad Stein persuade her, and she took no time to think before she spoke. ‘The cat’s back!’ she retorted. ‘And you’re quite wrong about my reason for hurrying, Miss Stein!’
There was no time to hear what Gloria’s reply might be, so Tarin simply opened the office door and hurried across to her own desk, taking up the letters she had discarded. Her heart was hammering at her ribs until she could scarcely breathe and she sorted through the letters she held for several minutes without seeing them, until the door opened at last and she looked up sharply when Darrel came in.
He looked lean and hard in fawn trousers and shirt and he still carried a riding crop, tapping it against one long leg as he strode across to his desk, then flinging it into a corner. He said nothing, and she might just as well not have been there for all the notice he took of her.
The past forty-eight hours, she decided ruefully, had done little to sweeten his mood, and her heart sank as she debated whether or not to speak first. Perhaps he had decided to ignore her altogether for her last few days, and at the thought of his actually doing so she bit her lip again anxiously.
‘Mr. Bruce.’
She licked her dry lips nervously as he turned and fixed her with a steady dark-eyed look of enquiry that could not have been more cool. If she had hoped for some sign of relenting this morning she was disappointed, and her heart was as heavy as lead as she tried to appear cool and controlled when she faced him.
‘Yes, Miss McCourt?’
His formality banished any reasonable excuse she had had for addressing him and she hastily avoided his eyes as she desperately sought for something to say. ‘Iâthere were two confidential letters in the mail this morning,’ she managed at last, and for a brief moment she could have sworn that a familiar glint of warmth showed in his eyes.
Then he turned and looked down at the top of his desk with a frown. ‘Are there?’ he asked coolly. ‘Then where have you put them?’
‘Why, on your desk!’ She stared at him uncomprehendingly for several seconds, then hastily got to her feet and half ran across the room, her heart clamouring wildly in panic. Sure enough the blank purity of the blotter was unburdened by any sign of letters and her eyes were wide with dismay when she looked up at him appealingly. ‘Butâthey were there,’ she whispered huskily. ‘I put them there myself.’
She had never seen those brown eyes so coldly condemning before and he towered over her like a relentless figure of vengeance, his craggy face as fierce as any of those painted ones out in the hall.
‘Maybe you left them with Con Stein in your haste to get back here before I spotted you,’ he suggested softly, and Tarin closed her eyes and put her hands to her mouth to stifle the cry that rose to her lips.
It seemed like an eternity before she drew another breath, and Darrel neither moved nor spoke, so that the silence eventually became unbearable and she opened her eyes. He still stood there, less than a couple of feet away, looking grimly unrelenting, and she bit her lip so hard that she almost drew blood.
‘IâI put them there,’ she insisted in a small husky voice that trembled dismayingly. ‘I did, Darrel, and IâI wouldn’t show them to anyone else, you must know I wouldn’t.’
Her eyes in the smooth oval of her face looked huge and childlike as she begged for his trust, and she dared to hope she saw a glimpse of warmth at last in the brown eyes, although he showed no signs of it in his face. The craggy features looked dark and forbidding and she could feel the agitated flutter of her pulses as she faced him.
‘Then where are they?’ he asked again. ‘Letters don’t just walk away, and these were very important ones.’
‘IâI know.’
She was recalling the past fifteen minutes in every detail. Coming into the office, opening the post and laying those precious letters on his deskâ then Conrad Stein had come in. She had been more or less compelled to go with him out into the yard at the back of the house, passing Gloria on the way, but she had been gone no more than five minutes, Gloria Stein could confirm that. Realisation came to her with stunning clarity suddenly, and she gave an audible gasp, one hand covering her mouth.
‘Miss Stein,’ she whispered without hesitation. ‘I passed Miss Stein going out and coming back, she could haveâ’
‘Quite likely,’ Darrel said grimly. ‘And by now they’ll know I can get Deepwater out of trouble.’
Tarin was puzzled by his attitude. If he was solvent enough to get Deepwater into his own hands again, surely her own minor misdemeanour was unimportant, and yet he was looking just as fierce as ever. ‘But isn’t that what you wanted?’ she asked, looking at him with wide, puzzled eyes, and his top lip curled scornfully for a moment as he looked down at her.
‘Of course it’s what I want, you little idiot,’ he said harshly. ‘But unless I move fast I’ve probably lost it nowâthanks to you!’
Tarin stared at him in disbelief, her heart thudding heavily in her breast and the tears she had shed earlier threatening to appear again as she swallowed his harsh judgment. ‘IâI didn’t know,’ she whispered huskily. ‘I didn’tâ’
He swung round again swiftly and impatiently, lifting the telephone and giving the operator a number in a short, angry voice, while Tarin spared only a moment to stare at his broad, unrelenting back before she fled from the room without even stopping to close the door behind her.
CHAPTER TEN
‘I shouldn’t have gone back again,’ Tarin said miserably. ‘I knew I shouldn’t have gone, andâ and now I’ve made things a hundred times worse. I let Conrad Stein persuade me to leave the office when I shouldn’t have doneâI shouldn’t have left the office unattended.’
‘So that his sister could take those letters?’ her uncle suggested, and Tarin nodded. ‘You think he knew what she meant to do?’
Tarin shook her head, not sure of anything any more. ‘I don’t know,’ she confessed dismally. ‘He might have done or he might really have wanted to talk to meâI just don’t know.’
She felt drained of emotion, so unhappy that she could think of nothing at the moment except that she would never be go
ing back to Deepwater again now. Maybe Mrs. Smith would see that her handbag was returned to herâshe had not even stopped to collect it on her way outâor perhaps one of the other staff members would bring it for her. Being in Darrel’s bad books almost inevitably meant being in Mrs. Smith’s tooâcertainly she would be unlikely ever to see Darrel again.
She looked up at her uncle where he sat perched on the edge of a low table in the sitting-room, a consoling hand holding hers, his good-looking face wearing an expression of mingled regret and speculation. ‘I’ve made a real mess of things, haven’t I?’ she asked dolefully, and was unable to do anything about the sudden mistiness that blurred her vision.
‘Oh, it couldn’t have been all your fault, my dear,’ Robert conceded gently. ‘Circumstances were against you from the start, and then the fact that the American girl had her sights set squarely on young Bruce didn’t help matters.’
Tarin managed to smile wryly. ‘My one consolation,’ she confessed ruefully, ‘is that Gloria Stein won’t be getting what she wants either, and I can’t help feeling glad about that, even if it is spiteful of me!’
‘Only human, my dear,’ Robert told her with a faint smile. ‘Only human, that’s all.’
It was a warm, bright afternoon, and normally Tarin would have been just leaving Deepwater to come home. Instead she was already busying herself preparing the evening meal, trying not to think about the disturbing events of the morning, and her sudden flight from the office.
Now that it was all over she realised just how much there was that she would miss by going back south. Not only the wonderful scenery and the sense of independence it gave her living away from home, but being near Darrel and able to see him every day. He had been rightâshe was a hothead who acted without thinking.
Even just thinking about him again was enough to bring those persistent tears to her eyes and she impatiently brushed them away with the back of one hand before resuming her potato-peeling. It was high time that she faced the fact that Darrel Bruce was not for herâher grownup dreams of sharing his life had stood no more chance of becoming reality than her schoolgirl ones had.
As a rule her uncle came home for his dinner about six o’clock, but she took little notice when he had not arrived by ten minutes past. The meal would keep hot quite easily and it was quite possible he had been delayed by some small crisis at the works. By six-thirty, however, she began to wonder what had become of him, and at twenty-five minutes to seven she rang his office to see if he had left.
Her answer came from a gateman-cum-watch-man who was the only one left on the premises, and he informed her that Mr. McCourt had left at his usual time. Worried at last, Tarin was just beginning to seriously consider what she should do next when he arrived, and she looked at him curiously when he hugged her with unusual enthusiasm as he came in.
‘I’m sorry I’m so late, my dear,’ he told her, ‘but Iâwell, to be honest I bumped into Darrel Bruce just after I left for home and we’ve had a wee talk.’
‘Oh! Oh, I see!’
Tarin wished there was something she could do about the rapid beat of her heart and the pulses that pounded so heavily against her temple that she could scarcely hear her own voice, let alone Robert’s. She couldn’t bear to think of him quarrelling with Darrel on her account, although it did not sound as if they had quarrelled. A ‘wee talk’ could mean almost anything, and she was almost as reluctant to imagine him pleading with Darrel on her behalf as she was to think of them quarrelling.
‘I’ll tell you about it at dinner,’ Robert decided before she could question his meaning, and gave her a small, consoling pat on her shoulder as she went into the kitchen to dish up their delayed meal.
‘What did you have to say to one another?’ she asked a few moments later. ‘Youâyou didn’t say anything to him aboutâdid you, Robert?’
‘Of course I said something to him, my dear,’ Robert told her gently. ‘One cannot talk to a man without saying something.’
‘Oh, you know what I mean,’ Tarin insisted with an impatient shake of her head. Somehow she felt that he was playing for time, and the suspicion made her uneasy as to his reasons.
Her uncle carefully swallowed a mouthful of braised lamb and nodded his approval before enlightening her, and she wondered if she had ever felt so much like being rude to him before. ‘When you’ve had your meal,’ he said at last, ‘how about walking down to Deepwater, Tarin? He wants to see you.’
Tarin stared at him, her eyes wide and so darkly blue they looked almost black and frankly disbelieving. ‘IâI can’t do that,’ she said huskily. ‘I couldn’t, Robert, he only wants to make my leaving officialâlet me know he doesn’t even want me to work out my notice. I couldn’t see him again andâand pretend it didn’t matter that Iâthat I’ll never see him again! I can’t, Robert, I really can’t!’
‘There, there, lassie!’ He reached over and patted her hand gently. ‘You’ll feel better about things when you’ve had your dinner.’
Tarin looked at him reproachfully although she said nothing. It was too bad of him to sound as if it was all nicely cleared up and that once she had seen Darrel and collected her things there was nothing else to worry about. It wasn’t as easy as that, and he should realise it.
He had not admitted to approaching the younger man first, but she had a strong suspicion that was what had happened and she could imagine what Darrel had made of that. Probably thinking she had got her uncle to speak up for her and try and persuade him to take her back as his secretary.
Robert, she realised ruefully, was more impressed with Darrel than he would have been prepared to admit. He had grudgingly allowed a certain liking after their first meeting, and further acquaintance seemed to have confirmed his impression.
‘I heard the full story,’ he told her after a moment or two, and apparently taking her interest for granted. ‘As that other fellow told you, young Bruce borrowed money to put Deepwater back on its feet. He was very frank about everything, and I admired him for it; in the circumstances he realised I’d be interested.’
‘He wanted you to know just how close I came to ruining everything for him,’ Tarin said bitterly. ‘I don’t blame him if you were making excuses for me.’
‘He was to pay back the loan in a lump sum within four years,’ Robert went on, ignoring her interruption, ‘that was the written agreement he had with the Steins. Being life-long acquaintances of theirs they allowed him a further six months’ grace on top of thatâa verbal agreement and therefore not binding in law like the first one. Legally they could have foreclosed and taken over Deepwater nearly three months ago.’
‘Oh, I see!’ She gazed at him anxiously, wondering just how damaging her own part had been.
‘Apparently the Steins had no idea about his other business activities until quite recently and it never occurred to them that he was on the brink of repaying the loan and getting Deepwater back.’
‘IâI suspected they might not know,’ Tarin admitted, shaking her head. ‘And I shouldn’t have left those letters there while I let Con Stein persuade me to go outside with him.’ She looked at him with wide, anxious eyes close to tears again. ‘Oh, Robert, please tell me I didn’t Jose Deepwater for him!’
‘You’ve no need to worry about that,’ Robert assured her with a wry smile. ‘He wasted no timeâ he had the money paid over straight away and, once the formalities are settled, Deepwater’s his again.’
‘Oh, thank God!’ Tarin closed her eyes, the tears escaping as she pushed away her half-eaten meal. ‘It could have been disastrous,’ she said in a small, shaky voice. ‘Gloria Stein wanted him to be in debt to themâto her at least, Con admitted as much. If she’d been able to claim Deepwaterâ’
She shivered at the future Darrel might have had to endure with his home gone. ‘He really would have hated me then. As it isâ’ She shrugged, glad at least that Darrel’s dream was solid reality at last.
�
�As it is, my dear, you’ll go and see him, will you not?’ Robert suggested softly, but Tarin shook her head.
‘IâI can’t, Robert.’ It took all the courage she possessed to say it, but she thought she knew exactly how Darrel would be feeling. ‘He’llâhe’ll never trust me again, andâand I can’t blame him.’
‘Tarinâ’
‘It’s better this way,’ she insisted, trying vainly to dispel the tears that once more blinded her. ‘Weâ we fight all the time, andâand it’s mostly my fault. Itâit’s no use trying to undo something that’s been going on for over two hundred years. Maybe some time in the future the McCourts and the Braces will be able to get along, butâbut it won’t work for Darrel and me.’
Robert said nothing for a moment, but even through her tears she noticed his apparent unconcern for her unhappiness and felt hurt by it. ‘I’d not like to cross that young man myself,’ he said softly. ‘He’s a mind of his own and heâ’ He shrugged with apparent resignation. ‘Ah well, I suppose you know best, lassie.’
It was most unusual for her uncle to go out during the evening, but Tarin was too wrapped up in her own unhappiness to realise that anything untoward was happening. He was simply going to walk down into the village and visit Doctor Robertson, he told her, not as a doctor but as an old friend.
If she was to leave soon there were plenty of things she could do and Tarin spent some time sorting her belongings ready to be packed. She had no idea how the time had flown and when she heard a car stop outside she was surprised to find it was already after nine o’clock.
A peep out of her bedroom window made her gasp audibly and draw hastily back, for the sleek black car parked outside the gate was all too easily recognisable. There was no sign of the driver at the moment, but she felt her whole body shaking like a leaf as she stood there behind the concealing curtains, almost holding her breath and wondering what on earth she could do.
The door bell chimed below in the hall and she drew another sharp breath, but made no move to go and answer it, her legs were much too weak to carry her that far. Why he was there she did not even stop to consider, she was much too busy trying to cope with a veritable storm of emotions that made her heart beat like a steam hammer in her breast and curled her hands into tight little fists.