A Man Called Cameron

by Margaret Pargeter

  Neil didn’t hesitate about not sparing her. ‘We have an agreement, Petra.’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten.’

  ‘You could have fooled me!’

  Stung, she retorted, ‘You make it sound as if it was something I’d done deliberately!’

  ‘Just so long as it was unintentional, but don’t let it happen again. This conversation might seem crazy, but Oliver is very susceptible. When Oliver is around you stick to a plain roast. A waterlogged vegetable could be a good idea. There might be no limits to your imagination—for the time being.’

  ‘You’re impossible!’ she flared, not liking the sardonic glitter in his eyes. ‘Just so long as you confine your own imagination I’ll do very well!’

  ‘It didn’t take a lot of that to read what was in Oliver’s eyes this evening,’ he jeered.

  For a taut moment her wide indignant eyes fell from his to flicker down on her crumpled skirt and blouse which she had worn for weeks. ‘Do you honestly think I could attract anyone in this?’ she cried impulsively.

  ‘So already you’re grumbling, throwing out hints, unsatisfied with your lot!’

  ‘Oh!’ Furiously she flung away from him, but she managed only one step before he caught her, drawing her back.

  ‘I like my servants to face me when I’m speaking to them,’ he spoke coolly in her ear.

  ‘Why, you ...!’

  ‘Petronella!’

  ‘Oh, all right. I’m sorry!’ Even his arms loosely around her were having an odd effect, not one she particularly welcomed as she felt painful nerves tightening all over her body.

  ‘That’s better, if singularly lacking in enthusiasm,’ he grinned indifferently down on her as he turned her neatly around, teasing her too obvious attempts to control her temper. ‘I think if Oliver persists I must be willing to assist more myself. Like this, for instance.’

  There was a sound, which he had obviously heard, outside the door, and with startled eyes she noticed Oliver opening it, Janey behind him, the coffee tray in her hands. Then Neil’s bent head blotted everything out.

  Seconds later he was surveying her firmly kissed lips, noting their satisfactory trembling. ‘We must see what we can do about your wardrobe,’ he murmured, examining her very thoroughly. ‘Tomorrow we’ll go to town.’

  There was the sound of someone turning abruptly and footsteps fading. ‘Did you need to do that?’ Petra hissed, ignoring what he said about town. ‘Don’t you think it was slightly ridiculous?’

  ‘You might not believe it, Petra,’ he drawled, ‘but I’m ready to grasp at any excuse. Something you might do well to remember when you try me too far.’

  Mrs. Cameron came to her room later that night, her face more than a little unfriendly. ‘Janey has been telling me she saw you and Neil in the kitchen,’ she began without preamble.

  Petra felt her cheeks flame red and she thought guilt must be written all over her. What sort of a story had Janey related? ‘He was simply asking to have his breakfast half an hour earlier,’ she hedged. For the most part this was the truth, as he had requested it as he had left her. So that he could be available to take her to town—whether or not she was agreeable.

  Mrs. Cameron was not so easily put off. ‘Janey hinted that he had you in his arms.’

  The heat in Petra’s cheeks didn’t subside and her heart sank before Mrs. Cameron’s obvious antagonism. ‘It was a mistake,’ she insisted, ‘as you must very well know. Neil was—he was only teasing.’ How she wished she could have told Mrs. Cameron that he had been merely doing it for Janey’s sake, but it was too much to expect Mrs. Cameron to believe that Oliver could be attracted to another girl when Janey was around. It would be like adding insult to injury!

  ‘Why should he want to consult you?’ Mrs. Cameron seemed deliberately insistent, her officious manner plainly indicating that she was far from satisfied with Petra’s brief explanation.

  ‘I am his housekeeper.’ Petra tried to stare at Mrs. Cameron with dignity, trying not to think how her words seemed to hang rather meaninglessly between them.

  Quite obviously Mrs. Cameron wasn’t impressed either. ‘We all know what that means!’ she retorted coldly, a spiteful curl to her thin lips.

  Petra went white. ‘Please, Mrs. Cameron, I’m only trying to be useful. I thought you approved.’

  Mrs. Cameron, now she was getting into her stride, had no pity for naive little girls who had no business to look as beautiful as Petra. Since her husband had died she had had no one to slay with her odd bouts of vindictiveness. Neil wouldn’t stand for it and Janey, for all her meek demeanour, would only stand for so much. Angrily she ignored Petra’s halting explanation. ‘What will you do,’ she wanted to know, ‘after Janey is married and I’ve gone back to the city? Even your brother will be away at school.’

  ‘I expect to stay here.’ Petra’s firmness faltered as she realised, with an agony of confusion, just what Mrs. Cameron was getting at.

  ‘You and Neil, alone!’

  ‘Mrs. Cameron, please!’ The sudden fury which shook Petra caused her to shake, yet subsided almost as quickly. Might her position here not seem as odd to others as it apparently did to Mrs. Cameron? She chewed nervously on her full bottom lip, aware of the other woman’s smirking sneer and not wishing to incite her further. ‘Mrs. Edwards, the stockman’s widow, will probably be living in by then,’ she offered, without that much conviction.

  ‘I know nicely who Mrs. Edwards is.’ Mrs. Cameron spoke icily. ‘She’s a respectable and very capable middle-aged woman, verging on the elderly. She makes the point of your being here more than slightly ridiculous, especially when she might have been tailor-made for your job.’

  ‘I don’t see,’ Petra began desperately, feeling more like some small trapped animal by the minute, ‘any point in continuing this discussion. You don’t understand!’

  ‘Just so long as you do!’ Mrs. Cameron hesitated, then swept past Petra to the door. Obviously she would have liked to have said more and perhaps only the thought of Neil’s possible wrath stopped her. She turned, her pale eyes hard, choosing her words with cool care. ‘You mustn’t get me wrong, my dear. I would feel responsible if anything happened to you. Men are only too keen to avail themselves of something handed them on a plate, and Neil is no exception!’

  Bitterly, feeling decidedly distraught, Petra stared at the closed door for minutes after Mrs. Cameron had gone. Was it ever wise to imagine one’s troubles over? She might, she realised, have been a stupid little fool about a lot of things, but wasn’t it too late to back out now? She must brace herself to sit out Fay’s loaded vindictiveness, if this was all that it was.

  Petra was honest enough to admit to herself that Mrs. Cameron was probably justified in thinking some of the things she did. And mightn’t she be as aware as Neil of Oliver’s admiring glances in Petra’s direction? The woman was doing nothing out of the ordinary in defending her ewe lamb. There must be something about Janey to arouse such protectiveness; even Neil seemed prepared to go to any lengths on her behalf. Nevertheless, neither Mrs. Cameron nor Janey would be keen to challenge Neil outright, and no matter what their suspicions they had no case as yet. Before they were gone, thus depriving her of the chaperonage Mrs. Cameron now appeared to consider necessary, something might be arranged to Mrs. Cameron’s satisfaction. In the meantime she must make sure she didn’t provoke Neil into any further forms of retaliation. Clearly he had only intended demonstrating to Oliver that Petra was willing to flirt with every available male. If she was honour bound not to deny such an impression, surely she didn’t have to actively foster it! Neil could go and amuse himself elsewhere, she decided bleakly.

  It seemed the middle of the night when she arrived next morning in the kitchen. Neil was drinking coffee by the stove. Everyone called it the stove, but in reality it was a beautiful shining electric cooker. It was arrayed side by side with a dishwasher and every other gleaming piece of equipment one could possibly wish for. Not even the most modern of
kitchens could boast of more. The only concession here was the huge scrubbed table which occupied a lot of the floor and which Petra imagined might comfortably accommodate every man on the ranch, if need be.

  Neil didn’t move as he watched Petra stumble towards him across the linoleum-covered floor. ‘Hello, housekeeper!’ he jeered softly. ‘What sort of time do you call this?’

  ‘It’s not yet five!’ She glared at him because in a pair of close-fitting jeans that showed the length of his powerful limbs he was enough to take a girl’s breath away. His shirt was checked and open at the neck and she was annoyed that she couldn’t match his casual elegance, not even at this hour of the day. Her thin T-shirt had a coffee stain down one side and she hadn’t stopped to tuck the uneven edges into her skirt. She had washed her face but made do with running careless fingers through her luxurious hair so that it now tumbled untidily about her face and shoulders.

  If he refrained from any open comment, she could see his eyes taking it all in. ‘I told you I have to be out early.’

  ‘Oh, all right!’ How could she tell him she had scarcely slept because of his stepmother’s insinuations? She made a swift dive towards an overall, in an effort to hide the tattered state of her clothes, but his hand stopped her.

  ‘Have you no idea how a good housekeeper should conduct herself? You don’t even know how to say good morning to your employer properly!’ His hands slid to her shoulders with uncompromising firmness as he looked down on her.

  She was reminded suddenly of men she would rather forget, although why Neil Cameron should fit this category when she loved him, she had no idea. ‘Take your hands off me!’ she cried, before she could stop herself. ‘I detest them!’

  As she shrank back, his mouth tightened, whereas before it had been half smiling. ‘Don’t I have the right?’ he taunted, and far from releasing her, his grip hardened.

  ‘Not—not this sort.’

  ‘Perhaps you could explain?’

  Did his voice have to be so silky? She felt herself shiver as the tenseness of his fingers ran through her. ‘No,’ she swallowed, ‘I couldn’t. I just dislike having you so near me!’

  ‘You didn’t think that last week in the mountains,’ he replied grimly. ‘And if you say much more I’ll show you just how far my rights could go—and there’s not a damn thing you could do about it!’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare!’

  As if again she had tried him too far he pulled her closer, jerking her head back, ruthlessly plundering her protesting lips with his own. He held her thus, cruelly careless against him, and the tight little fists she hit him with might have been drops of beneficial rain for all the notice he took.

  ‘Let me go, you beast!’

  ‘You only incite a man with kind words like that,’ he mocked as momentarily he allowed her mouth to escape.

  Petra lifted a slim leg to kick him and he trapped it neatly with a much stronger, well-muscled one of his own, holding her still until the very kitchen began to whirl.

  Still she couldn’t give in and made a wild swipe at him with her one free hand. ‘It’s only because you think you’re stronger!’ she panted irrationally.

  ‘What should I do to prove it?’ he growled, deep in his throat, his eyes sweeping over her dishevelled shirt which was showing some inches of bared skin. ‘Come here, my little rebel, my cousin of centuries ago!’

  His mouth caught hers again as he lowered his head and when somehow she managed to resist him he slipped an experienced hand beneath her shirt. After this her defences crumbled under the arousing magic of his touch, and he held her firmly until the last of her rebellious tremors were subdued.

  When his lips left her now completely responsive mouth she made no attempt to move other than to encircle his strong neck plaintively with drowsy, unsatisfied fingers.

  ‘If it was autumn and everyone gone,’ he murmured threateningly, ‘I would simply carry you upstairs.’

  Perhaps because this related so closely to Fay Cameron’s suspicions, Petra felt herself growing cold. It was like a pool of iced water on a hot day, irresistible, but shocking on impact. But before she could accuse him he had moved, so swiftly that she blinked he left her, and she was left with the uneasy feeling that he had spoken deliberately to shock her to her senses.

  He was holding his coffee cup again and as she stared at him, bemused, she couldn’t see one tremor anywhere.

  His eyes were faintly amused, she didn’t see they were also watchful, so his next words jolted her, nearly as much as his previous ones had done. ‘Now perhaps you might tell me why you’re in such a filthy mood this morning? Fay was in your room last night. Has this anything to do with it?’

  ‘No ...’ Startled, Petra stared at him. How had he known?

  ‘You could try confiding in me. Once you got the habit it shouldn’t be as overpoweringly difficult as it seems now.’

  Petra flinched, his sarcasm not going unnoticed. But there were some things a girl had to work out for herself, and she wasn’t going to involve Mrs. Cameron unnecessarily. Mrs. Cameron could have been acting out of the goodness of her heart. Anyway, it might not be wise to tell Neil anything. He could turn out to dislike gossip as much as the next man, and it was no use putting words into the enemy’s mouth.

  Why she should be suddenly thinking of him as an enemy she didn’t know. ‘Mrs. Cameron just looked in to see if I was comfortable,’ she supplied vaguely, looking down at her toes.

  ‘Ah, I see.’ His voice was smooth. There was nothing by which Petra could judge whether he believed her or not. ‘Well,’ he put down his coffee cup with a decisive ring, just as she was thinking of bestirring herself about his meal. ‘I’ll be back about nine, baby. Be sure you’re ready. I’m also taking Janey.’

  ‘What about your breakfast?’ she stammered, nearly feeling ashamed of herself.

  His eyes mocked her from the doorway. ‘I can’t say I’m completely satisfied, honey, but I’ll make do with what I’ve had until—later.’

  Never in a thousand years could Petra have described the trip to Calgary as entirely successful, but it did have much to recommend it. Neil not only took Janey but David as well, and David, if no one else, was delighted with his excursion. Never having flown on a private plane before, he made no attempt to hide his excitement, although careful to do everything Neil told him. As his comments grew boyishly wilder even Janey was affected by his enthusiasm and fell to teasing him happily until both she and David collapsed in a series of stifled giggles.

  Petra found herself glancing at Janey with some surprise, feeling oddly warmed towards the girl. Perhaps Janey wasn’t so bad after all. Away from her mother she often seemed an entirely different person. Frowning, Petra looked down at her fingers, wondering uneasily if she was being completely fair. While Mrs. Cameron might not seem a very heart-warming kind of person, she had been widowed since Janey was an infant. Even though she was comfortably off it must have been a lonely business bringing up a young child on her own. Perhaps she needed sympathy rather than criticism, even if she wasn’t always easy to get on with.

  Still frowning, Petra raised her eyes to stare out through the window. There was so much space and tranquillity here that everything should surely be peaceful. Yet there were undercurrents at the ranch, the same as anywhere else. As if their earlier encounter hadn’t been enough, she had had another skirmish in the office with Neil before they had left. When he had summoned her she had intended to make the most of such an opportunity by having a lot of things sorted out, but he had made it so brief that she seemed scarcely to have got further than the door before he was pushing her out again.

  To begin with she had told him she wasn’t going to Calgary or anywhere else. This firm declaration he had tossed aside impatiently, without so much as bothering to reply. Then he had given her a large roll of notes, and when she had asked with amazement what she was supposed to do with so much money, he had answered that it would buy her clothes.

  ‘I haven’
t gone closely into your financial circumstances, Petronella. I’m merely concluding, recalling our last little argument here, that you haven’t any. You’ve been working for over a week, so you can take this as wages—some in advance, if you like. I refuse to have a scarecrow as my housekeeper, so you can take it or leave it.’

  Her eyes speaking volumes, Petra had been consumed by a proud inclination to leave it, or throw it in the garbage bin, but something about the taut shape of his mouth had warned her she was skating on very thin ice. That such wonderfully satisfying gestures were luxuries she must deny herself. Blinking, she had glanced at him, her anger turning to uncertainty. It was no use crying for the moon when she must work for David’s schooling, and maybe, so far as her clothes went, Neil had a point. She was indeed beginning to look as he indelicately hinted, and she knew a sudden irresistible longing to have some nicer things than she was wearing. ‘Thank you,’ she had said, at last, wondering despairingly just how much more she was going to have to thank him for in the years to come.

  ‘You’re welcome!’ he had retorted dryly, and no more had been said about her not going to Calgary.

  David, having apparently tired of spotting landmarks en route, had transferred his enthusiastic attention to the plane’s controls, and Neil was explaining briefly how the whole system worked. He also, as David’s interest continued, told him a little of how the Air Transport of Canada was run. Of how Canadian airways scheduled flights were made every day to almost every country in the world, Air Canada being the principal carrier. He added that Pacific Western, owned by Alberta, flew many thousands of people every year. Petra noticed, with an odd little ache in her heart, how David listened eagerly to every word, and it was very plain to see that his admiration for Neil was growing by the minute.