by Lucy Gordon
‘Jarvis!’ It was Hannah, calling from the kitchen. ‘Can I have a word?’
‘I’m coming,’ he called back. ‘I’ll say goodnight now, then.’
‘Goodnight,’ she said, and went on up the stairs alone.
Once in her room she hung up her new clothes, took a quick shower and donned a wispy lace and satin nightdress. It was low cut, held up by narrow lace straps, and probably not the right attire for this chilly place. But it was better than high-necked flannel, she thought.
She was about to switch off the light when she heard heavy footsteps in the corridor outside. They stopped and there was a long pause. Then the door was flung open with a crash and Jarvis strode into the room, his hands clenched into fists, a look of anger on his face.
‘Hey, where do you get off marching in here without knocking?’ she demanded indignantly.
Jarvis’s hands unclenched, but his face remained dark. ‘I came to find out who was in this room without my permission. I don’t go softly with intruders.’
‘Intruders be blowed! You put me in this room.’
‘No, I put you in the Green Room.’
‘This isn’t the Green Room? So that’s it! I wondered why it wasn’t green.’
‘This room belongs to Lady Larne,’ he said flatly. ‘You have no right to be here. Did you tell Hannah to bring you here?’
‘Of course not. How could I? I didn’t know there was such a place.’
‘Hmm!’
‘Don’t “hmm” me! I don’t tell lies.’
‘You’ll forgive my being suspicious-’
‘No, I won’t!’
‘But you’re a woman who feels entitled to go where she pleases, as she pleases. You’ve already made it clear that you think you can take over at Larne.’
‘I’ve done no such thing! Stop exaggerating. I just made a few suggestions.’
‘Apply for grants, restore the causeway-’
‘I have an organised mind. It thinks of things. I was only trying to help you.’
‘Have I asked for your help?’
‘Well, maybe it’s time you asked for somebody’s. And who else can help you?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you serious?’
‘No.’ She backed off quickly. ‘You’re not at all what I had in mind.’
‘And I’ll bet I know just the kind of man you were looking for. A nonentity who’d give you no trouble afterwards.’
‘Then we’re the same,’ she flashed, ‘because you’d agree fast enough if you thought you could get me out of your hair the next day.’
‘Then neither of us is going to get what they want. Oh, boy, did you take a lot for granted! Even if I’d answered your advertisement, who’s to say I’d have wanted you when we met?’
Meryl’s answer was a smile. He’d asked the one question to which she knew the answer. He’d have wanted her, if she’d wanted him to. She knew that.
Jarvis read the smile without difficulty, as she’d intended, and felt a stirring of unease. Her confidence in herself as a woman was like a dark, unknown force. It had no place here, yet it seemed to confront him at every turn.
More troubling still was knowing that she was right to be confident. She should have been at a disadvantage but she’d mysteriously asserted herself with one silent gesture. Without the barrier of her money he’d have been almost uncontrollably attracted to her. And she knew it, confound her!
He spoke with difficulty. ‘A decent woman would cover herself.’
‘A decent man would have left my room by now.’
‘You’re very sure of the power of your money,’ he said slowly.
She smiled again. ‘Jarvis, it’s not my money that you’re looking at.’
‘But the money’s always there, as you well know. It’s behind everything you do. It gives you the arrogance to act as you please. One day you’ll come a cropper because of that arrogance. I just hope I’m there to see it.’
‘If you’re going to throw me out I don’t suppose you will be,’ Meryl retorted.
‘I’d almost marry you for the pleasure of seeing your face when you’ve got more trouble than you can cope with.’
Her eyes challenged him. ‘I’ve always been able to deal with trouble.’
‘Oh, yes, with an army of servants running around after you,’ he said grimly. ‘But you’re on your own here, with a man who doesn’t like you.’
‘But you want me,’ Meryl said softly.
‘Then it was even more stupid of you to put yourself at my mercy.’
‘Jarvis, understand me. I’ve never been at any man’s mercy, and I never will be.’
He didn’t answer, but stood there watching her, and suddenly her confidence began to slip away. This man knew how she looked naked. The memory was in his eyes, plus something else that made her realise she had her back to the fire, and her shape must show plainly through the thin material. Their battle had become a game, one that she’d thought she could easily play. But it was as he’d said. She’d walked alone into his domain with only her wits to help her. And perhaps they wouldn’t be enough.
‘I think you should go now,’ she said.
‘And if I don’t?’
‘Then perhaps it’s time I took myself to the Green Room,’ Meryl said decisively. The feeling of being at a disadvantage was unfamiliar, and hard to cope with. She moved past him, giving him as wide a berth as she could, but his hand shot out and grasped her bare arm.
‘Will you please let me go?’ she snapped.
‘I’d prefer not to.’
‘What about your honour as an English gentleman?’
His laugh had a dangerous edge that hadn’t been there before. ‘My what? My ancestors fought and subdued this countryside by force. What they wanted they took, and if the other side didn’t like it, they shrugged. I promise you, acting like a gentleman never came into it.’
Silence. She met his eyes, trying not to let him see how disturbed she was. Her heart was thumping with something that wasn’t fear but a kind of heady excitement.
At last he released her, very slowly, and stepped back. He was breathing hard, and she wondered if he could tell that her pulses were racing.
At the door he stopped and glanced back over his shoulder, not looking at her directly.
‘Tomorrow you leave,’ he said, and went out.
Meryl stood motionless, looking at the closed door, feeling him still there.
‘I don’t think so,’ she told Jarvis Larne’s image. ‘Not now, when I’m just starting to enjoy myself.’
She breakfasted alone next morning, Jarvis having already eaten and departed; to avoid her, she suspected.
She still had the feeling of his presence. It had been with her all night so that she’d awoken in the early hours to the mysterious conviction that he was there in the bed, holding her. Then she’d had to remind herself that he’d only held her arm, not encircled her body as she could feel him doing now, and as he would have liked to; she was certain of it.
It had begun as a demonstration of power, warning her to back off. But he was the one who’d backed off, because his own power had alarmed him. He’d been a whisper away from kissing her, but he hadn’t dared because he didn’t trust himself to stop.
She could have lured him into that kiss, but she too had retreated. Cold feet? Or just the instinct that said, Not here and now? But one day. Soon. And inevitably.
Her new wardrobe yielded up a pair of brilliant orange trousers and a loose shirt with a pattern of leaves. A scarf that matched the trousers exactly completed the set. She considered her battle attire with satisfaction.
Hannah evidently approved also, because when she served Meryl’s breakfast in the downstairs room she gave a brief nod of complicity.
‘You shouldn’t have put me in Lady Larne’s room,’ Meryl said. ‘He was none too pleased.’
‘Oh, him!’ Hannah snorted as though her employer’s opinion was no more than a minor irritant.
‘I think h
e feels I ought to move to the Green Room.’ Meryl’s tone invited conspiracy.
‘Well, maybe I’ll have time to shift your things this morning,’ Hannah said. ‘But I’m awfully busy.’
‘I wouldn’t want to disrupt your schedule.’
They understood each other.
‘Mr Ashton called to say he’ll pick you up in half an hour,’ Hannah added.
Meryl hurried her breakfast and was soon ready. As she left the morning room she became aware that the entire household was present. Most of the castle was closed for economy’s sake, but even the little that was open took a lot of work. Hannah kept it going with the help of a married couple, Seth and Annie, too old and slow to do very much, but whom Jarvis kept on because they had nowhere else to go.
They were all there, hovering in the hall or on the stairs. Eyes bored into Meryl as she appeared, then turned back to the open Library door, from behind which came the hum of voices.
‘Some of his lordship’s tenants have come to see him,’ Hannah muttered. ‘They’ve heard the news.’
‘What news?’
Hannah’s look spoke volumes. Meryl went closer to the door. She could see Jarvis standing there, facing what appeared to be a deputation of five men, one of whom, a burly individual, was speaking for the others.
‘My missus said it was the best news she’d heard for years,’ he was saying.
‘Hal, I don’t know exactly what you’ve heard-’ Jarvis said awkwardly.
‘Why, about this heiress who turned up in the storm-enough money to save us all, that’s what they’re saying. We all knew you would manage it, one way or another.’
‘Hal-’
‘There’s plenty who’ll sleep better tonight.’
‘Don’t take too much for granted,’ Jarvis said gently. ‘Nothing is settled.’
Another voice from the back of the group said, ‘We’ll just leave the details to you. Not another word until it’s sorted, eh?’
As they neared the door Meryl moved quickly back, but she wasn’t fast enough. They saw her, leaving her no choice but to come into the room. She tried not to meet Jarvis’s eyes, but she was intensely aware of him, tense with displeasure.
‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Lord Larne,’ she said, speaking more calmly than she felt.
The other five men regarded her as though she’d risen from the sea at that moment. She smiled back, and courtesy forced Jarvis’s hand.
‘Gentlemen, this is Miss Meryl Winters, my guest since she was stranded a couple of days ago.’
She shook five hands as the names washed over her. The men might have come out of the same mould. Their shapes varied but they were all middle-aged, roughly dressed, with hands that looked as though they worked hard. And all bore the same air of weary stoicism, hope too long deferred and dread fended off by fragile defences.
She felt an inner pang. This wasn’t an adventure for them. It was life or death.
‘I must go now and see to the rescue of my car,’ she said at last.
‘May I speak to you a few moments before you go, Miss Winters?’ Jarvis requested. ‘Perhaps I could join you in the garden?’
Whatever he wanted to say to her, she didn’t want to hear it until she’d had time to think.
‘Would you mind very much if we put it off?’ she said hurriedly. ‘I mustn’t keep Ferdy waiting.’
She hurried away before he could answer, but not before she’d sensed a frisson of surprise in the others. She wondered how long it had been since anyone had told Lord Larne to wait.
As they sped across the water Ferdy said, ‘I saw the deputation on the way out. Have they been giving him a hard time?’
‘They told him they knew he’d manage it one way or another, and they’d leave the details to him,’ Meryl said wryly.
Ferdy shouted with laughter. Yesterday she might have joined in, but now, for some reason the sound made her wince.
The haulage firm had been at work since low tide, in the early hours, and the car was already safe on land, looking somewhat the worse for wear. Meryl retrieved her luggage from the trunk, where it had escaped the worst. A representative of the car hire firm was on hand to take back the vehicle with much wringing of hands.
They had a good lunch at her expense, followed by a trip to the bank. Here matters proceeded satisfactorily. The manager, after an initial scepticism, made some calls to New York, during which his manner grew markedly more deferential. When Meryl departed she was once more ‘Miss Winters’, armed with a special emergency cheque book, and a promise that the official one would be ready next day.
The causeway was clear when they reached the shore, and the first thing they saw was Jarvis’s elderly Jeep making its way cautiously to the end. He stopped when he saw them and Meryl went up to his window.
‘You mad at me?’ she asked.
‘Certainly not,’ he said politely. ‘But we do need that talk.’
‘I agree.’ Before she realised what he meant to do she darted around the front of the vehicle and hopped up into the passenger seat.
‘Drive on,’ she said. ‘Bye, Ferdy.’
Ferdy had been transferring her baggage to the Jeep. He retired, grinning.
Jarvis didn’t move. ‘I don’t think this is the best-’
‘Of course it is. How can we talk in the castle? The walls have ears. Here we can be private and you can tell me exactly what you think of me.’
‘You’re right,’ he said grimly, letting in the clutch.
She said nothing for the first few minutes, until they’d left the built-up area behind and were swinging out onto the moors which stretched as far as the eye can see. Presently the land changed, softened into graceful undulations. Here and there she saw the glint of water as streams meandered through the gentle countryside.
‘Is this where I drove the other night?’ Meryl asked.
‘No, we’ve left the moor road.’
‘Can you stop a moment?’
The old vehicle ground to a halt with an ugly sound. She slipped out, followed by the dogs who’d been on the back seat, and went to stand where she could look down into the valley. Everything seemed mysteriously perfect. The divisions in the land were made by hedges, trees or by stone walls that looked as though they had grown naturally out of their surroundings.
Just below her she could see a flock of sheep, dotted about a field. The ewes chewed and surveyed the world, while the lambs skittered between them.
Jarvis came to stand beside her but he didn’t speak. He was watching her.
‘Is all this yours?’ she asked at last, so quietly that he almost didn’t hear.
‘Some of it,’ he said. ‘I own some farms around here, and rent them out.’
‘I’ve never seen so many wild flowers,’ she mused. ‘In fact, I don’t usually see much wild anything.’
‘No, you’re more of a hothouse flower,’ he said, speaking without rancour.
‘I suppose so. The trouble with being a hothouse flower is that you lose track of the seasons.’
‘Here the seasons are everything. This one’s the best, when spring is just turning into early summer. The lambing’s over and the sowing is ready to start.’
Rusty and Jacko were sniffing about in the grass, the picture of canine content. Their master threw a stick, but they ignored it and came to Meryl to have their ears fondled.
‘I don’t suppose there’s any money in farming, is there?’ she said thoughtfully.
‘Hey, how did you ever work that out?’ Jarvis still spoke amiably, almost teasing her.
‘I didn’t,’ she admitted. ‘It was something my father used to say.’
What Craddock Winters had actually said was, ‘Only fools waste their time trying to get things out of the earth by growing. The way to do it is to bore in and wrench out what you want. That’s how you get rich.’
Meryl had never thought about it enough to question his judgement, but now she realised that her father had never stood in a field in sprin
g, listening to the silence. In fact-it dawned on her like a thunderclap-he’d hated silence almost as much as he hated his own company-and had made sure there was never any around him.
If only he could see her now! She could just hear his scathing tones. But there was a lot he hadn’t known.
‘Why are you smiling?’ Jarvis asked.
‘Talking about my father made me remember things-he thought cities mattered, and outside cities only oil wells counted. To him the rest was unnecessary.’
‘Where did he think the food came from?’
‘From the supermarket, of course, Cellophane-packaged.’
‘Why, of all the-’ he began angrily. Then he saw the demure mischief in her eyes and knew an odd feeling of pleasure. ‘Of course!’ he said. ‘Forgive me, I have no sense of humour.’
‘Nonsense! You must have.’
‘I don’t often see the joke. Except right now I think it might be on me.’
‘But it can’t really be a joke for you, can it?’ she said, serious again.
‘No, it can’t. The reality is always there in the background, making jokes futile. And that’s all I’m going to say. It’s time we were getting on. I have people I need to see.’
‘Will I be in the way?’
‘If I said yes, would that stop you?’
‘Let’s get going.’
CHAPTER FIVE
W HEN they were in the Jeep Jarvis began to turn it back the way they’d come.
‘What about the people you have to see?’ she asked.
‘That can wait for another day.’
‘You mean because I’m here. You don’t want me to see too much, do you?’
‘You’ve already seen too much. I didn’t ask you to come with me but you insisted, the way you’d always insist if I was mad enough to- Never mind.’
They were approaching the village again. This time, instead of driving through, he stopped at an old timbered building whose sign proclaimed it the Running Dog. He bought himself a beer and, at Meryl’s insistence, the same for her. Then sat watching her cynically as she drank it.
‘It’s good,’ she said, meaning it. ‘Don’t look like that. My dad taught me to drink beer.’