by Dilys Xavier
Charles Cable's expression turned to one of apology as he gave a little shrug. Maria looked at him with eyes full of suspicion. ‘I know by the look on your face, Gramps. He's coming again, isn't he?’
Her grandfather cupped his face in both hands. ‘I'm sorry, Maria, I really am. He's in the area, and wants to call; maybe merely out of courtesy.’
‘Courtesy, indeed. He’s not the sort to waste time paying visits to the likes of us for no particular reason.’ Maria's voice was high with resentment. ‘Oh no, he wants something, I’ll bet. The man doesn't know when he's not wanted.’ She pushed her plate aside roughly. ‘I don’t feel hungry any more. I'm going out to the horses.’
The freshness of the pure morning air helped her relax a little as she gazed around at the glorious view that fell away in gentle slopes. Nearby, the row of five graceful Lombardy Poplars rustled as they swayed hypnotically in the gentle breeze. It was as if they were trying to soothe a troubled mind. But in seconds, her thoughts jumped to Phillip Carter’s proposed visit.
She looked up as pearly clouds skidded across a zircon-blue sky and addressed her question to the Cosmos beyond. ‘What is so urgent it can’t wait?’
Chapter Six
As if in immediate answer, the high-powered Ferrari broke her reverie before she even saw it, crunching the gravel as it slowed to a stop just yards from where she stood. The car door opened and Phillip Carter unfolded his lithe form. He rose to his feet, waved, and sauntered towards Maria with a smile. ‘Good morning,’ he greeted breezily, ‘Isn't it a beautiful day?
Maria's lips tightened and her tone was terse. ‘We've barely had time to find out, yet, Mr Carter; it's still very early.’
In silent reply, he merely lifted his hat politely then tapped it back into place on his head at his favourite rakish tilt. She looked straight into the deep hazel eyes that surveyed her with a smile. ‘I believe you’ve come to see my grandfather,’ she stated icily.
‘If I may,’ he clipped back, obviously sensing by now that he was not all that welcome.
‘I’ve loads of work waiting, Mr Carter, so you'll have to excuse me.’ She pointed to the farmhouse. ‘My grandfather’s expecting you; please go up to the house.’ She had to accept this was a legitimate business visit as far as he was concerned. She shrugged; in fairness, how was he to know the reason for her special attachment to Chance, and that she felt hostile towards him for trying to take the horse away from her?
He turned slowly and spoke quietly, ‘I’d like us to be less formal. Please call me Phillip. May I call you Maria?’
‘All right,’ she agreed, forcing a smile.
‘That's better,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I was beginning to think you objected to my being here at all.’
How right he is, Maria thought, turning away, embarrassingly aware he must have sensed her unfriendliness. She felt somewhat uncomfortable when he moved close enough for her to detect his aftershave, and turned towards the stable door so that he would not see the flush spreading over her cheeks. She hated him for having this effect on her. ‘I really must go now.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘Look, if this is inconvenient, I could come another day.’
‘It makes no difference to me. You’d better go inside; my grandfather’s expecting you.’
She watched him stride towards the farmhouse door, and sighed as she recalled his previous visit when she had watched him struggle against the breeze sweeping up from the lowland. Thoughts whipped through her head. It's a shame he makes me feel uneasy; he's a good looking guy, but that doesn't alter the way I feel. I'd rather he were anywhere but here right now.
Chance neighed excitedly as Maria went into his stable. She did her chores automatically, irritated that her thoughts were all about Phillip Carter as she worked; his lithe figure, his good looks, and his beautiful voice. She wondered what his wife was like, what sort of home he had, how many children, and what he did in his spare time. I know nothing about him, she thought, suddenly feeling annoyed that she had any interest in him at all.
‘That's it for now,’ she said, giving the colt a pat. ‘I'll pop you into the paddock.’
Charles Cable and his visitor were deep in conversation by the time she reached the kitchen. Their words were low, their heads close together, and as she approached, they both glanced up with what she thought was a guilty look, and stopped talking as though she ought not to hear what they were discussing.
‘Maria will make us a coffee,’ her grandfather said, rising from his chair, ‘then we'll go outside.’ She noticed him gather together several sheets of paper that were spread out on the pine kitchen table.
Phillip Carter changed the subject as he addressed Maria. ‘I hear you'll both be at the Chepstow races on Saturday week.’
‘We’re certainly looking forward to it.’
‘So am I,’ Phillip Carter said, straightening up. ‘I have two running at that meeting. Deepweir is in the second race, and Lily's Love in the last.’ He smiled wistfully. ‘One can never be certain how things will go, but they're in top form, so I hope they'll do well. It's the first time over the sticks for Lily's Love. He’s good, but inexperienced, so I’m not expecting much.’ He narrowed his eyes as his thoughts dwelt on the coming race. ‘I hope the going won't be too hard, neither likes it hard.’
‘Really?’ Maria's eyes were wide as she listened. ‘The sixth race, you said?’ She mentally noted that the name Lily's Love was a similar sounding name to Lucy's Lad, and they were both in the same race. I’d better not get them mixed up, she thought, maybe I'll place my bet using numbers at the Tote office rather than the names of the horses with the bookmakers.
She looked hard at Phillip Carter. ‘The last race is the sixth, isn't it?’
‘It is.’ His handsome face looked back at her, a cool twinkle in his eyes. ‘Naturally, we’re always hopeful.’ He smiled, and wagged a warning finger. ‘Please don't take my word on what I've just said; no one can ever be certain of horses. I wouldn’t want you to be out of pocket on my account.’
It was as though he was thinking she had ideas about backing one of his horses. Little does he know what I’m planning, she thought.
‘Gary, our neighbour's son, who manages here for us; he rides National Hunt,’ Charles Cable said proudly. He'll be on Lucy's Lad, and in the last race too.’
With Phillip Carter's attention now on her grandfather, Maria quietly observed his casual, but expensive clothes. He looked a lot smarter than when she had first seen him. His pale grey trousers fitted tightly enough to accentuate the masculinity of long lean thighs. His blue-grey safari jacket topped a pale grey striped shirt that was obviously a classic style. The tie, Maria could tell by the tightness of the knot, was pure silk. Even when dressed in his working clothes, Phillip Carter commanded attention; he was the kind of man to turn any woman's head. Yet, as far as she was concerned, her mind was clouded with resentment, ignorant though he would be of the fact.
‘It makes racing more interesting if you've a couple of horses in mind,’ Charles Cable said, rising from the table. ‘What are you doing about lunch, Phillip. You're welcome to stay.’ He turned to Maria, ‘Isn't he m'dear?’
Maria’s spirits dropped as she realised what her grandfather was saying. ‘Certainly,’ she fibbed. ‘It's a warm day, so we’re having a cold ham salad.’ Having been caught day-dreaming, she was surprised at how willing she sounded, when what she really wanted was for Phillip Carter to leave as soon as his business with Gramps was over.
‘Thank you, but I have a better idea. Let me take you both out to lunch instead, and give Maria a rest from chores. How about it?’ He looked at them both in turn expectantly. A shock wave ran through Maria's body. She was about to make an excuse when she looked sideways at Gramps, her mood sinking when she saw how pleased he looked at the idea.
‘How kind of you, Phillip; I'd enjoy that. What do you say, Maria?’ He had given his opinion before she could think of a way to get out of it, and his voice was
brighter than it had been for a long time.
Maria shrugged. She would suffer lunch with this man just to please Gramps. ‘It sounds a good idea,’ she fibbed again, ‘but give me time to change.’
‘Good,’ Phillip Carter said, rubbing his hands together and drawing himself up to his full height way above Charles Cable. ‘Go and get ready now then, Maria. It's nearing lunchtime, and tables fill quickly; I don’t want to miss the best meal in town.’ He began pacing the room impatiently, hands clasped behind his back, stopping to peer out each time he reached the window.
Indignation surged within Maria at the realisation that this newcomer to their lives was issuing instructions, and telling her what to do in no uncertain way. In a petulant mood, she slipped upstairs to change, suddenly realising she was lunching with someone she didn't even like, and responding to his orders just like a child would.
Every time Phillip Carter had seen her, she had been dressed for work. Now she wanted to show she could look better. Determined to impress, she discarded one garment after another, then remembered the pale green dress with a low neckline and slinky skirt. ‘That's the one,’ she murmured, reaching to the back of the wardrobe. She slipped on the peridot green garment, acknowledging how well her chestnut hair contrasted with it. She knew she looked her best. Everything was pale green and cool looking, and she needed to feel cool.
She piled her hair in a sophisticated bun on the top of her head, and without it tumbling as usual, her oval face showed an elegant line. Fine eyebrows topped pale green orbs that she accentuated with a touch of pale green shadow, and rose lip-gloss completed the picture. The reflection staring back from the large mirror pleased her. Lastly, she fixed on a pair of solid gold drop earrings that glinted with every movement of her head. Slipping her feet into a pair of heeled fashion shoes, she went downstairs and confidently entered the room where the two men were waiting.
‘You're ready!’ exclaimed Phillip Carter. His eyes wide at what he saw, his gaze ranged from head to toe taking in every detail. She looked back at him boldly, knowing she looked good.
‘What a transformation,’ he murmured. His eyes held a look of genuine appreciation, but under his penetrating gaze her cheeks were once feeling hot. Somehow she felt peculiarly girlish in his presence; she was always at ease with people close to her own age but this man made her uneasy. And it didn't seem to matter how he was dressed; it was his bearing, his manner, his voice, and the confidence he exuded that made him so different to all the other men she knew.
Once his two guests were seated in the Ferrari, Phillip Carter purred the limousine forward, and within seconds they were moving at an alarming speed. It seemed only a short while before the vehicle slid to a stop and Phillip jumped out to open the doors for his passengers. He reached out to help Maria.
‘I can manage, thanks,’ she said, but not before he had grasped her hand firmly, sending a tingle down her spine. It was unpleasant, but stimulating at the same time. Maria stood in the huge car park and looked about, feeling conspicuous alongside the Ferrari and the most devastating male companion she had ever had before.
They entered the hotel and made for the dining room where they were greeted by the manager, who escorted them to a table and handed them each an enormous menu card. The man lifted a hand, and a wine waiter appeared for their order.
‘Would you like something from the bar, sir?
‘Champagne, please,’ Phillip said. The man nodded and left quickly.
Maria was amazed at the speed with which their meal arrived. The salmon she chose was poached to perfection, and tasted delicious, yet each mouthful seemed to stick in her throat. She wondered whether she would be able to do justice to the tasty meal.
As though reading her mind, Phillip rested a comforting hand on hers and spoke softly. ‘You don't seem to be enjoying it. Would you like something else?’ His hand was already half-raised to call the waiter.
‘No-no, it’s fine thanks,’ she faltered. ‘Please, don't concern yourself. It's just, er, I'm not so hungry.’ She smiled apologetically, wishing that Gramps had not accepted the invitation.
Phillip Carter eyed her quizzically. ‘More Champagne?’ Without waiting for an answer, he poured the bubbly into her glass. ‘It’ll do you good.’
Unconcerned about the conversation of the two men, Maria was busy wondering how she could outwit her host's attempt to buy My Chance, when her thoughts were interrupted.
‘Thank you, Phillip. We'd love to, wouldn't we, Maria?’
Her eyes darted to her grandfather's beaming face. ‘Er, yes,’ she stammered, then whispered, ‘Love to what, Gramps?’
‘Visit Phillip's training establishment. He's invited to go there on Sunday.’ He looked at Maria impatiently. ‘Come on, wake up, you’re day-dreaming.’
‘Sorry,’ her voice was almost inaudible, the colour draining visibly from her face as she realised that Gramps was now involving her in a visit to Phillip Carter's place. She groaned inwardly, reluctant to allow the man to become friendly, even though he had really done nothing personally to upset her.
The meal over and once again outside, Maria recovered her poise as she walked to the Ferrari. Phillip was close behind, and she sensed he wanted to take every opportunity to touch her, however briefly. Her thoughts turned impish. Why not encourage him a little? And then? Her lips curved as she contemplated the inevitable outcome should he fall prey to her charm. And why not? she thought, as feline-like plans to get her own back began to form.
The drive back to the farm was smooth and fast, and Maria breathed a sigh of relief to be on familiar ground again, but the sudden thought that maybe soon this would no longer be her home made her shudder.
‘I’ll look forward to seeing you both again on the weekend.’ Phillip Carter broke in eagerly. ‘Come soon enough to join me for an early lunch on Sunday.’
Charles Cable was quick to answer. ‘Delighted, Phillip. We'll see you around eleven if that's all right?’
‘Look forward to it,’ Phillip Carter said, and with a friendly wave, he left.
Maria heaved a sigh of relief. ‘I'll go and change now, because there's still work to be done,’ she said, coming alive as soon as the man had gone.
‘Hi!’ A familiar voice checked her entry into the house and she looked around to see Gary Marsh, all smiles.
‘Gary!’ she exclaimed, plainly showing pleasure at the sight of him. ‘I thought you'd have gone long ago.’
‘How could I?’ he laughed, ‘knowing you two were out on the town, and for goodness knows how long. Don't panic,’ he said, sidling up, ‘there's nothing amiss. Everything's seen to, so relax.’
‘You're a treasure, Gary, thanks. If you’ve done all the jobs, I can get everything sorted for the exhibition now.’ Maria skipped lightly into the house, eager to put the finishing touch to the last painting for her big day. ‘I'll be in my studio, Gramps,’ she called, taking the stairs two at a time to the north-lit room at the back of the house. But concentration was difficult. The voice and face of Phillip Carter loomed too often, clouding her mind, blanking her canvas. ‘I'm making no progress,’ she muttered, throwing down her brush in despair. ‘Why won't the man leave me in peace?’
‘Finished?’ Charles Cable sounded surprised when she returned to the kitchen.
‘Nope, just not in the mood, so I may as well give up or I'll make a mess of it.’ Irritable now, she walked around the kitchen, arms folded across her bosom. ‘Gramps, why do you encourage that Phillip Carter? I wish you wouldn’t. He's been in our pockets ever since we first met him.’
‘I don’t encourage him, but someone has to be polite,’ he said, giving her an old-fashioned look. ‘After all, he could be our saviour; you know our financial situation.’
Maria gave a funny little laugh. ‘Our saviour? He's a devilish nuisance, that's what he is,’ she said defiantly, her face flushed in anger. ‘Moreover, I believe he thinks he's God's gift to women.’ Maria looked stubbornly at her grandfather. ‘Gra
mps, I’m going to do everything in my power to stop him getting My Chance. There are plenty of good horses around he can pick from. Chance is mine, and it's staying that way.’
‘Don't take on so, Maria. You know the colt still has to prove himself in a good class race even though he's doing well so far. And you know he's only worth what someone is willing to give for him.’ Charles Cable sighed. ‘I know it's hard for you; it’s hard for me too, but Phillip has made a fantastic offer for him, and we ought, you ought, to be sensible enough to see that. He's seen Chance's papers and he's more than satisfied the colt is worth the offer he’s made.’
Maria's head jerked up. ‘Oh? So that's why you both had your heads together behind my back; Chance's papers? You well know that Daddy always said Chance would be mine one day,’ she repeated. She glared at him with accusation in her eyes. ‘You have no right to do this to me, Gramps, and you know it. It’s not fair.’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I know it must upset you, but should Chance fail to go on to win, or if he gets an accident, we're left with nothing. If we accept Phillip Carter’s offer, the risk becomes his, and we're left with a pocketful of money. Which will solve all our problems.’ He leaned back in his chair, his mouth set in a defensive line, tapping his arched fingertips together as he waited for her reaction.
‘I know that, but don't rub it in.’ Maria swallowed hard. ‘I'd rather lose the farm than lose Chance. He's my last link with Daddy.’ Tears began to fall freely. ‘I wish I'd never set eyes on that man,’ she cried, covering her face with her hands.
‘Maria, you can't blame Phillip. He's a business man, and yes, you’re right, it really is a case of choosing between Chance or the farm. Try to think sensibly.’ He put a hand tenderly on Maria's head. ‘Be honest with yourself; minus our own farm, you couldn't even keep a hacking horse without dipping your hand deep into your pocket for every blade of grass and every grain of corn. And you know it.’