Master of Ben Ross

by Lucy Gillen

  Walking back across the cobbled yard to the house, he put an arm around her shoulders and tucked her close against him, looking down at her with that same warm, satisfied look as before, and this time it was Melodie who tiptoed and kissed him.

  ‘I love you so much I’m half afraid I’ll wake up at any minute and find this never really happened at all.’

  Neil laughed, his eyes so darkly grey that they were almost black as he looked down at her. ‘I feel a wee bit like that myself,’ he confessed.

  Recalling something else suddenly, Melodie pulled a face. ‘I’ve yet to face Jessie and explain why I’m so late for lunch,’ she reminded him. ‘Is she very angry about it, Neil?’

  It seemed to Melodie that his booted feet had the sound of authority as he strode across the echoing cobbles, and he did not smile, but his arm tightened almost imperceptibly. He brought them to a halt just outside the back door of the house, and pulled her into his arms, holding her close while he kissed her with such fierceness that she was breathless when he let her go at last.

  ‘Apologise to Jessie by all means, but I’ll not have you afraid of my housekeeper! You’ll be mistress of Ben Ross very soon now, my darling, and you don’t have to be afraid of anybody!’

  Melodie looked up at him, her small face serious when she thought of the responsibility her new position would entail. It was far more than anything she had undertaken before and she had her first qualms of doubt. Not that she loved Neil any less, but running that great house would be her responsibility for the most part and she was horribly unsure if she was up to it.

  ‘I only hope I won’t prove too much of a disappointment,’ she ventured, and laughed a little unsteadily. ‘I’m hopeless as an organiser, as you have reason to know, and when I think of being in charge of somewhere as big as Ben Ross ! ‘ She drew a deep long breath and shook her head. ‘I hope you won’t have second thoughts about marrying me!’

  He shook his head slowly, kissing her mouth with a lingering gentleness that set her senses reeling with its promise of passion. ‘I’ll not have second thoughts about that,’ he promised. ‘No matter how bad an organiser you are, my darling.’

  He opened the door and as they passed the kitchen on their way through to the main part of the house he put his head round the edge of the kitchen door. ‘It’s all right, Jessie, she’s back and quite unhurt!’

  ‘Thank God ‘ Jessie McKay, straight and solemn as ever, noted the possessive arm about Melodie’s shoulders with her shrewd brown eyes, and it seemed to Melodie that the small nod she gave might have expressed satisfaction. ‘You’ll be hungry after all that

  time on the moor, Miss Carne. Away with you into the dining-room and I’ll get you something to eat.’

  There was nothing to do but do as she said, and Melodic was aware that Neil was laughing as he drew her across the hall with him. Looking up at him, she wrinkled her nose in reproach, and he drew her into his arms suddenly, kissing her lightly just beside her ear.

  ‘What makes you so sure that you’ll not be able to manage this house and its staff ?’ he asked, and Melodic glanced instinctively across at the-huge portrait that hung on the wall above the stairway.

  Duncan Ross looked down at them with his sharp dark eyes, and she felt as if he could actually see them. Herself standing in the circle of Neil’s arms, his fair head bent over her, kissing her neck and the soft skin of her throat. There was something about that portrait that always disturbed her, and yet she could not decide just what it was.

  She put her hands either side of Neil’s face and gave a moment to studying the strong tanned features that were suddenly almost unbearably dear to her. Then she kissed his mouth and glanced once more at the portrait.

  ‘Maybe because I feel the critical eye of the old master on me,’ she suggested, only half joking, and Neil followed the direction of her gaze and frowned suddenly.

  ‘Does he bother you, darling?’

  Something in his voice, she was not sure exactly what, made her look at him curiously for a moment, then she laughed and shook her head. ‘Not really,’ she denied. ‘It’s just that he always seems to be watching me. I suppose—’ She hesitated, venturing in to new territory with some misgiving.’ I suppose you became quite

  fond of him, didn’t you? Was it he that gave you your—your passion for Ben Ross?’

  ‘In a way,’ he agreed, and the quiet matter-of-factness of his voice gave her no warning of what was to come. ‘He was my father.’

  Melodie stared, first at Neil and then at the man in the portrait, and she remembered suddenly one evening when she had noticed something vaguely odd about the portrait with the light casting a patch of yellow across the head of the subject. The impression had been fleeting, but just for a moment it had looked a little like Neil with his strong dark face and fair hair, only she had not realised it then.

  ‘Your—father? Duncan Ross?’

  Neil was not looking at her, but up at the old man in the picture, arrogant and autocratic—qualities that he had passed on to his son in some degree. ‘He wasn’t a man for a home life and a wife and family,’ he told her, in the same cool voice. ‘He was a rover, all his life until the last years when he got too old to wander around all over the world, then he sent for me to come and run the estate for him. I was twenty at the time and had no idea I was other than Ramsey McDowell’s son —my mother left the old man before I was born.’

  ‘Oh, Neill’ Her blue eyes were dark with the depth of emotion she felt for the wrong that had been done him. ‘And then he left the estate to Catriona—how you must have hated him!’

  The grey eyes fixed themselves on her mouth again and a hint of smile showed in their depths. ‘I think I did at one time,’ he confessed. ‘I felt it was mine by right, but now—’ He bent his head and his mouth was so infinitely gentle that she dung to it for as long as she could. ‘Since I met you, my darling, I realised just

  how much a man can love. I believe he felt about

  Catriona’s mother the way I feel about you, I’m sure of it—he never loved another woman the way he loved her, because it wasn’t possible.’

  ‘More than he loved your mother?’

  Neil took her in his arms again and his mouth was -close to hers, warming her lips when he spoke. ‘He could no more love another woman like he loved that first one than I could love anyone else as I do you, my darling.’

  Melodie lifted her face to him, her eyes like blue gems in her small face and she kissed him softly with a mouth that was trembling and anxious. ‘Then I have only Ben Ross as a rival,’ she ventured and Neil’s grey eyes looked deep into hers, dark and challenging.

  ‘I have all I ever wanted from life now,’ he said. ‘My father’s land and a woman I love even more than the land.’ He kissed her, a long hard kiss that should have been conviction enough, then looked down at her with his grey eyes warm and gentle. ‘Does that make you happy, my love?’ he asked, and Melodie smiled.

  ‘That’s all I wanted to know.’