'She really is recovering from an accident then?' He pushed his hands distractedly through his dark hair. 'I thought that was just an excuse so she wouldn't be asked to do much work.'
Lorna stared at him in angry bewilderment. 'Why on
earth should you think that? I don't understand you, Fraser. I've never known you to take a dislike on sight to anyone before—and for no reason that I can see.'
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her all he knew of Bethan Latimer, the girl she was defending so staunchly, but instead he said, You have to admit she was very evasive when I asked her about this so-called accident last night.'
`And that was enough to make you assume
Lorna sighed and limped across the room to sink tiredly on the edge of the bed. 'Maybe she was foolish to play it down like that, but that's Bethan. She didn't want it known what had actually happened to her, but Hugo told me what a very close brush with death she'd had. And he trusted me to look after her!' She glared at her favourite nephew accusingly. 'If Hugo can forgive you for this, I don't know if I can. What that bomb-blast failed to do, it seems you're well on the way to accomplishing.'
Fraser stared at her, anger and disbelief fighting a losing battle against her certainty, but before he could say a word, Molly bustled breathlessly into the room. 'Dr Stratton's just finished his evening surgery and says he'll be right over.'
Lorna levered herself to her feet. Perhaps you'll leave us now, Fraser. We must get Bethan into bed.'
Biting back the questions that seethed in his mind, Fraser glanced once more at the still, white-faced figure on the bed before walking out of the room that seemed to have no imprint on it of the girl who had occupied it for the best part of a week. Either Bethan had taken his aunt in completely, or there were things he ought to know. Running downstairs he made for his study. It was time he did what he ought to have done the moment Bethan Latimer Steele walked back into his life. Picking up the telephone, he dialled Hugo Fielding's number.
The little mare broke into a gallop and Bethan shouted aloud in joy, her long hair streaming behind her like a fiery banner beneath her hard hat, the wind hot in her face. So drunk on the triumph of outstripping Fraser was she that she never saw the rabbit hole, and the next moment she was sailing over Marinka's head and crashing to the turf. Her head felt light and muzzy as if it didn't belong to her and she hurt everywhere, but Fraser's arms were around her and she knew she was safe. She wanted him to hold her like this forever and ever. She wanted to tell him so but something seemed to have happened to her tongue. It worried her, not being able to speak, because if she didn't tell Fraser how much she wanted him to go on holding her he might let her go.
And then the arms about her were suddenly gone and there was no more safety anywhere. She was alone, roaming the face of the earth, searching ... searching ... the cold streets of London, the burning African bush, the shattered, war-torn Middle East. She could sense again the tension that never relaxed, the fear that was a familiar taste in her mouth. The street with its bullet and bomb-scarred buildings was busy but it was a tense, uneasy busyness, with everyone hurrying as they were themselves, to do what had to be done before seeking a precarious refuge again. She heard the whine of the shell and grasped her companion's arm, felt the terror as they cringed together, looking behind them, saw the building heave a split second before the terrible blast threw them bodily forward. She screamed ...
Hard hands gripped her shoulders and forced her back against the pillows. She opened dazed, fear-crazed eyes to see Fraser Laurie's grim face staring down at her and for a moment thought she was still in the grip of the nightmare.
It's all right, Bethan. You were having a bad dream.' The hard hands released her and he stepped back.
She remembered then, the long hours working in the
vineyard, her determination to show Fraser he was wrong about her, that she wasn't afraid of hard work, his furious arrival and her humiliating collapse at his feet. Mortified colour flooded her cheeks. What must he think of her now, lying here like a lady of leisure?
'I'm sorry,' she gasped. It was stupid of me to pass out like that. What time is it? Lorna ' She tried to sit up, to swing her legs out of bed but found she could hardly move, was certainly too weak to resist when once again Fraser pushed her back against the pillows.
'Don't worry about Lorna, she's safely tucked up in bed. You've been unconscious for hours. It's nearly morning now.'
'Nearly morning!' Bethan registered the soft light of her bedside lamp. 'But what are you ?'
'Someone had to stay with you,' he said curtly. 'At least until you regained consciousness.'
His tone implied he would have done as much for a dog and stung Bethan into betraying a trace of bitterness as she retorted, 'I'm sure it went against the grain when that duty fell to you, but as you can see, I'm perfectly all right now and can only apologise for being such a nuisance.'
it was the least I could do,' he said distantly, 'when it was I who was responsible for your collapse.' He turned away towards the window, pulling the curtain aside to stare out into the darkness.
If that was meant to be an apology, Bethan thought, it was hardly a gracious one. But then he surprised her when, without turning round, he said savagely, 'For God's sake, Bethan! Why weren't you honest with me? Why didn't you tell me the true circumstances behind your arrival here? I could have done you irreparable damage, over-straining you like that.'
She stared at his rigid back incredulously, a slow anger beginning to burn in her. 'I have never, ever, told you anything but the truth,' she asserted vehemently. 'I told you I was a fully trained nurse. I also told you I'd taken on the job of looking after your aunt while I
recuperated after an accident, but you chose to disbelieve me on both counts, obviously preferring your own lurid version of the kind of life I've been leading for the last ten years.'
She saw his hand gripping the curtain tighten, bunching the material and putting a strain on the hook holding it to the rail. 'All right, I disbelieved you, but for so long now ' He bit off what he had been going to say and dropping the curtain, turned to face her. 'But did you have to go on making a fool of me when you could so easily have proved you were telling the truth?'
Bethan sighed and closed her eyes, trying to decide what he was accusing her of now. 'Would you mind telling me how I was supposed to do that,' she questioned tiredly, 'when you weren't prepared to believe anything I said?'
'By suggesting I check your credentials with Hugo Fielding, of course,' he said impatiently. `So why didn't you?'
It would have been the logical thing to do, she conceded to herself. So why hadn't she? She sighed again. Because in defending her own position she would have exposed her stepfather's version of what had happened after her trial as false, and she hadn't been prepared to do that.
A baffled look passed across Fraser's face but he pressed on. 'And then there was your evasiveness about your previous job and the exact nature of your supposed accident. You can't blame me for being suspicious. You may claim to have been honest with me, Bethan, but you weren't completely honest, were you? If you had been you wouldn't be lying there now looking like a ghost.'
She closed her eyes. Truth to tell she felt like a ghost, her limbs heavy and lethargic and her head light, barely in touch with reality, as if she were floating out of her body. 'I don't blame you for anything,' she said tiredly. I readily admit I brought everything on myself.'
The violence of the oath he swore had her eyelids flying up again in apprehension. 'So why didn't you tell me the whole truth?' he demanded. That you've been working for Hugo Fielding's International Relief Agency for the last six years? That you're one of his most selfless and dedicated nurses—his words, not mine—that you've worked for the agency in all the trouble-spots of the world, risking your life time and time again? That your so called "accident" was actually being caught in a shell-blast in the fighting in Beirut? My aunt knew all this, so why was I kept in ignoran
ce?' He had moved close to the bed again and was standing over her, threateningly Bethan felt, and instinctively she flinched away from him.
He had either persuaded Lorna to tell him the full story or he had got it from Dr Fielding, but knowing the truth didn't seem to have made his antagonism any less. She could feel the leashed anger in him still, and it tightened her own tension unbearably.
'I don't know ... I was here to do a job—look after your aunt—and I just wanted to get on with it without any fuss.' She turned her head away to hide the tears that were squeezing between her tightly closed lids, despising herself for the weakness that gripped her. But he had already seen them.
'Oh God! I didn't mean to make you cry. I shouldn't be making you talk like this either. Dr Stratton says you're suffering from complete exhaustion and must rest.' Something soft brushed her face and she was startled to realise he was wiping her tears away with his own handkerchief. Is there anything I can get you before I leave you to sleep?'
Her mouth was dry, but she didn't have the strength to lift her head off the pillow. If I could just have a drink of water.' Her eyes flicked up at him warily, distrusting the softer note of his voice that sounded almost kind.
He poured water from the carafe at her bedside into a
glass and one strong arm lifting her easily from the pillows, held it for her to drink. She didn't know whether it was her own weakness or Fraser's closeness that made her teeth rattle against the glass, she only knew she found his gentle touch profoundly disturbing. It wasn't until she tried to hold the glass herself that she noticed the bandages.
Frowning at them in puzzlement she demanded, 'What's the matter with my hands?'
They were rubbed raw by the hoe,' Fraser said tightly, seeing again the bleeding, broken blisters. Are you in pain?'
Bethan shook her head. Even if she had been she wouldn't have told him, for that leashed anger was back, obliterating his momentary kindness. In fact she felt numb from head to toe, the weight of her limbs pressing her against the bed. Her heavy eyelids closed as her head fell back against the pillow and within seconds she was asleep and unaware of the man who continued to stare down at her, a mixture of anger and compassion in his face.
The sparrows squabbling in the thatch woke her as they did every morning. She glanced at the pretty clock that matched the lamp on her bedside table and saw it was newly eight o'clock. She'd overslept! In a few minutes Lorna would be expecting her breakfast. It took a tremendous effort to throw back the duvet and swing her legs out of bed, and when she tried to stand they felt like jelly, the room swinging crazily round her. Grabbing the chair Fraser had been sitting in the night before to steady herself, she waited for the dizziness and the accompanying nausea to subside.
'What the hell are you doing out of bed?' Fraser's furious voice from the doorway demanded.
'Lorna ' she began, then thought she saw his face
tighten at the familiarity, though it was hard to be sure
because his overpowering figure seemed to be wavering
about. 'Mrs Ruston,' she corrected herself. 'I'm late
'Molly can see to my aunt today, and for as long as necessary. Dr Stratton said you were to stay in bed until you were fully recovered.' Before she could argue he had swept her off her feet and dumped her back beneath the duvet.
She began to protest but he cut her off with a savage, 'For pity's sake, you crazy woman! You'll do as you're told.'
Hot colour flooded her cheeks and she would have been afraid to make another effort had the need not been so pressing. 'But I need to go to the bathroom,' she said in a small voice.
Incredibly, a dark red crept over his cheekbones and he looked suddenly uncertain. 'I'll fetch Molly,' he said and turned on his heel.
Molly clucked round her like a mother hen, brushing aside her protests at the trouble she was causing, coaxing her into eating the breakfast she had prepared on a tray. That Fraser Laurie's credit had gone down in her estimation, she made obvious before she left to see to her mistress.
And this worried Bethan. She had been speaking the truth the night before when she had told Fraser she didn't blame him for her collapse. It was hardly his fault if he had believed her stepfather's version of her disappearance ten years ago, and the fact that she hadn't given him a full account of how she came to be in his aunt's house must have made him feel his suspicions of her motives were justified. So it was the last thing she wanted, to know she was the cause of ill-feeling between Fraser and his family.
Her discomfort was even greater later on when Lorna came to sit with her. 'You're still very pale, my dear.' The older woman leaned over to kiss her cheek, the sharp blue eyes concerned. 'I can't apologise enough that this should have happened while you were in my
house. I just don't understand what got into Fraser, but I'm going to find it very hard to forgive him.'
'Oh please, you mustn't say that,' Bethan protested in dismay. She had no idea what explanation Fraser had given for taking her away from her nursing duties to work in the vineyard, but she knew she had to do something to heal the breach in his relations with his aunt. She could see nothing for it but to tell the truth as she should have done at the beginning, even if it did mean losing Lorna Ruston's friendship and respect.
I'm afraid your nephew has very good reason for thinking badly of me—as you will too when you know.' She looked down at her bandaged hands lying idly in her lap, not wanting to see the shock and revulsion on her kindly employer's face. 'Ten years ago I did something so utterly unforgivable ...' She bit her lip then went on purposefully, I got drunk at a party, took someone's car without permission, and while I was driving it, I--I killed a child.'
The silence stretched out but still Bethan couldn't bring herself to raise her eyes.
'And Fraser knows about this?' Lorna Ruston's voice betrayed only surprise and Bethan nodded miserably, believing the other woman too well-mannered to show her real feelings.
It was at his sister's eighteenth birthday party that I got drunk,' she confessed in a whisper. 'Ishbel and I had been friends all through school and I was often at Merrifields during the holidays—my stepfather was a diplomat and often out of the country—so I used to know Fraser quite well.'
'You're Beth Latimer?' This time Lorna's shock was unmistakable, and to Bethan's sensitive ear had an accusing ring.
'Yes,' she choked. 'I'm sorry. Please believe I never intended any deception. Steele was my real father's name and I went back to it after—after—it didn't seem fair, you see, to go on using my stepfather's name after
I'd brought such disgrace to him. And when I agreed to come here I had no idea you were in any way connected. Of course as soon as I first heard Fraser's name mentioned I realise now I should have told you he wouldn't welcome me here in your home, but I—I thought perhaps he wouldn't remember me. I hoped he wouldn't. And then when he came home and didn't appear to know me, well, I didn't think he would care to be reminded.' Her voice trailed away and she steeled herself to meet her employer's distaste.
'But he obviously did recognise you, and apparently set out to give you a hard time.' Lorna's voice was grim. 'What I don't understand is why he should bear you such a grudge! He's not normally so intolerant, neither is he usually so lacking in imagination that he can't appreciate how heavily such a burden must weigh on the conscience of a girl like you.'
Bethan was startled into raising her eyes to the blue ones regarding her with compassion instead of the distaste she expected. 'You—you're very forgiving,' she choked. 'I—I thought
'You thought what you've just told me would make a difference to the affection I have for you? My dear child, give me credit for a little humanity. I'd say you've spent the last ten years trying to make reparation for that one fatal mistake. Would I be right?'
Bethan nodded, warmed by the other woman's understanding and yet feeling wretchedly that she didn't deserve it. Her stepfather's rejection, Fraser and Ishbel Laurie's abrupt disappearance from her life, ha
d many years ago reinforced her own conviction that what she had done on the night of was so utterly unforgivable she had forfeited the right to any understanding for herself, to any sympathy or respect.
'What I still don't understand is Fraser's attitude,' Lorna went on, frowning. 'Why he feels he must go on punishing you for what after all was a most unfortunate accident, and so long ago too.'
Lorna's charitable view of the crime she had committed brought tears to Bethan's eyes as she turned her head away. 'He—he couldn't believe my arrival here was no more than an unhappy accident,' she explained thickly. 'He seems to think I inveigled my way in here to take advantage of you—or him—for some devious purpose of my own. He certainly doesn't consider I'm a suitable person to be looking after you.' Not for anything could she bring herself to tell Lorna of the disreputable lifestyle Fraser had believed her to be living.
'Oh, doesn't he! Well, I'll soon put him right about that!' Lorna said grimly.
Bethan pushed herself up from her pillows in dismay. The only reason she had made her confession had been to try to heal the disruption her presence here had caused, and instead it seemed to have had quite the opposite effect. 'Oh, please Mrs Ruston—Lorna. I don't want to cause any more trouble. You must see it would be much better for everyone if we just let the whole thing drop, if I just left quietly without any more being said.'
'Leave! You most certainly will not leave.' Lorna was outraged. 'You're here on my invitation and here you'll stay .until both I and Hugo Fielding consider you fully fit again.'
'But Fraser ' Bethan protested.
'You just leave Fraser to me, and no more arguments.' Lorna hauled herself painfully to her feet. 'Just you forget his stupid prejudices and rest.'
In the face of such determination, and feeling drained physically and emotionally by her confession, Bethan had no alternative but to lie weakly back against her pillows, healing sleep creeping up on her almost as soon as the door closed behind Lorna.
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