Sweet Sanctuary

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Sweet Sanctuary Page 8

by Charlotte Lamb

"Grooming the donkeys." She laughed, her brown eyes warm with amusement. "When I could get them to stand still! Their coats are improving, you know. I've noticed a change even in the short time I've been here. All the rest and good food is working wonders."

  Sylvia lifted her head. The green eyes flicked over Kate. "Still wearing those filthy old jeans, I see! Some people are incorrigible." Her disdainful drawl brought Nick's eyes to her again.

  She did not notice him, her attention concentrated on Kate. The other girl was automatically fondling the dogs, her slim hands gently rubbing their ears and throats.

  "Don't let those animals go—I don't want them near me!" Sylvia forgot to hide her shrill dislike.

  "I'll take them into the house," Kate said quietly, turning to go.

  "Good," Sylvia snapped. "And bring us a jug of lemonade out here—I'm parched! Plenty of ice, too."

  "She isn't a servant," Nick said curtly.

  Sylvia was suddenly still, the blonde head swinging towards him, the green eyes narrowed in thought.

  "She does work here, doesn't she?" The tone was gentle and innocent.

  He was dark red. "As a secretary, not a domestic servant! And anyway, this is Saturday. She's allowed some time off to enjoy herself."

  Sylvia watched him, glittering and beautiful in her silver-blue clothes, as tensed as an animal scenting danger, her eyes fixed on his face in wary contemplation.

  "That reminds me," she murmured. "Kate, Jimmy Whitney sent you a message—he wants to take you out tonight. Will you ring him if you can't come? Otherwise he'll be here at seven o'clock and wants you to wear your prettiest dress."

  Kate looked sideways at Nick. His grey eyes met hers in a savage stab. Flushing, she moved away, her head bent. He stared angrily at the pale curve of her neck, where the heavy, bobbed brown hair fell away.

  Sylvia watched them both, eyes narrowed. She had her face under control now. Any trace of rage had been carefully erased from her features, and when Nick turned back to her she was smiling sweetly.

  "I must drive over to fetch Punch home. You might as well come with me." His voice was hardly eager.

  Sylvia uncoiled herself and followed him into the house, Nick ran upstairs to find his car keys. Mrs. Butler, mincing meat on the kitchen table, threw Sylvia a hostile glance. The dogs lay under the table beside the basket of kittens.

  Sylvia waited impatiently, ignoring Mrs. Butler in her turn. The two women were accustomed to this silent warfare.

  One of the dogs ran up to greet Sylvia. She pushed him away, and when he came back undeterred, gave him a kick.

  "Don't kick my dogs!" Mrs. Butler went white with rage.

  "Keep them away from me, then! I don't see why I should be forced to put up with your animals every time I come here."

  "You have an alternative!"

  "Oh, yes, you would like me to stay away from this house, wouldn't you? It would just suit your book. Well, I won't be driven away by your dirty animals."

  "Dirty? My dogs are not dirty!"

  "All dogs are unhygienic," Sylvia snapped. "I think it's disgusting, having all these animals in the kitchen, infecting the food you eat. Those kittens probably have fleas, and I'm sure these dogs have them. Look at the way they're always scratching!" She watched with cold amusement as the other woman grew rigid with pure hatred.

  "You ... you ..." Mrs. Butler was incoherent with rage.

  "I'm not surprised somebody poisoned one of them," Sylvia added sweetly. "I've often wanted to poison one of them myself."

  She heard Nick on the stairs. With a last triumphant smile she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Mrs. Butler engulfed in vast and bitter fury.

  "One day I'll kill that girl!" she told the dogs on a gasp. They looked sympathetic, but their brown eyes were more interested in the meat she was preparing than in the little scene which had just passed.

  When Nick returned with Punch he was looking grim. Aunt Elaine glanced past him.

  "Where's Sylvia?"

  "I dropped her at her home." His tone was not encouraging, and his aunt did not probe further, but a twinkle of satisfaction came into her bright blue eyes.

  Kate, carefully mixing a salad dressing, watched sympathetically as Mrs. Butler welcomed Punch home. It was hard to tell who was the more excited of the two—the dog was breathless with delight, his tail rotating violently, and the woman was flushed and joyful.

  Punch came to lay his head on Kate's knee. She washed her hands and knelt to make a fuss of him.

  "You two are ruining him, you know that, don't you?" Nick was gruff, but beneath the roughness lay a warm, tender amusement.

  "So you're going out with Jimmy tonight?" Nick picked up a piece of cucumber and nibbled it, watching her.

  Mrs. Butler looked at them both with great interest. "Kate? Are you?"

  Kate nodded, very pink. "Unless you need me here?" Her tone was half hopeful. She would have been glad of an excuse for ringing Jimmy to refuse his invitation. Pride made it impossible for her to refuse without a good reason. She would not have Nick dictating to her.

  Mrs. Butler shook her head. "Certainly not—go out and enjoy yourself. Young girls should get out now and then…" Her blue eyes flickered over Nicholas, gently malicious.

  "I'm sure Nick doesn't mind," she said.

  Kate stared at the bowl of salad. She waited, her head bent, wondering what he would say.

  He said nothing. After a pause made more obvious by his tense attitude, he walked out of the kitchen.

  "Well," murmured his aunt in a voice choked with laughter, "Nick is in a funny mood tonight! I think he quarrelled with Sylvia over something."

  Over me? thought Kate guiltily. She remembered the hostility she had noticed earlier, in the garden. Nicholas had looked at Sylvia in such an odd way. He had resented Sylvia's manner towards herself— Nick had a strong sense of fair play, and he saw Sylvia's haughty behaviour towards an employee in a very poor light.

  She spent some time later in getting ready for her evening with Jimmy. When he arrived, only Nicholas and his aunt were in the kitchen, playing dominoes in a humorous atmosphere of mock hostility.

  "Cheat!" Nick glared at his aunt. "Why must you always cheat?"

  "I was not cheating," she said placidly. "I'm merely very absent-minded. I forgot I'd declared no two earlier."

  "How could you declare it when you had a two? Cheat!"

  "I overlooked this one," she said, giving him a winning smile.

  Nick groaned. "Overlooked it! Do you expect me to believe that?"

  Her husky voice warmed. "My dear boy, I can't help getting old and stupid, can I?"

  He smiled his disbelief.

  Jimmy coughed and they looked around, surprised find him standing in the kitchen door.

  "I did knock, but you didn't hear me!"

  Mrs. Butler grinned at him. "Goodness, you do look distinguished, Jimmy!"

  Elegant in a frilled white shirt and dark lounge suit, he grinned back. "Thanks!"

  Nick surveyed him without speaking, and Jimmy threw him an impudent smile. "Hi, Nick. How are you?"

  "Don't forget what I said to you," Nick said menacingly. He stalked to the door and went out.

  "What was all that about?" Mrs. Butler looked at the door with wide, amused eyes.

  Jimmy shrugged. "Nick appears to be turning into Mr. Barratt of Wimpole Street—he talks as though Kate were his daughter, and a very young one at that. I'm hardly Attila the Hun. I've had some odd looks from fathers before now, but I've never been threatened by an employer before!"

  Mrs. Butler laughed. "Nick is concerned for Kate. She's very young, after all, and has had a sheltered upbringing."

  "I'm taking her out to dinner, not kidnapping her," Jimmy said. "Nick came over to the farm this morning and breathed hell fire and damnation all over me. I resent it. My intentions are purely honourable." He grinned. "Well, more or less."

  "Nick came to see you today?" Mrs. Butler stared at him in astonishment.


  "You didn't know?"

  "He hasn't said a word." She leaned back in her chair, blandly smiling, looking, for all her age, very regal, with her silky white coronet above those astonishingly youthful eyes.

  "Nick playing the squire, perhaps?" Jimmy raised one eyebrow curiously.

  "It doesn't sound like Nick, does it?"

  Jimmy shrugged. "Influenced by dear Sylvia, perhaps? She certainly has a fixation about Nick being the lord of the manor."

  "Nick has never shared it." Mrs. Butler was firm.

  "No, I'll grant that. All the same, he did come over to see me, breathing fire, and offering to slit my throat if I harmed Kate." Jimmy laughed. "I felt quite wicked and abandoned when he'd gone—sort of rake's progress feeling. I'd never seen myself in that light before. It was faintly entrancing."

  "Jimmy, you're showing off," said Mrs. Butler gently.

  He grimaced. "Nick put my back up."

  "What did you say to him?" She watched him with curiosity and hidden pleasure.

  Jimmy hesitated, then laughed. "I reminded him that he was in no position to talk. I remember the days when Nick was the local Don Juan. Pre-Sylvia, of course. I bet no one came and warned him off the course."

  "Was Nick annoyed?" Mrs. Butler was openly amused now.

  "Annoyed? He was livid! I thought he was going to push my face through the back of my head for a minute. Then he left—suddenly."

  The vivid blue eyes sparkled. "How very interesting."

  Jimmy looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Yes, I thought so, too." He stopped speaking as Kate entered the room, her brown hair shining silkily, full green skirts flaring round her slim legs as she walked. She looked gay and vital, smiling as she took Jimmy's outstretched hands.

  "Well, hello!" Jimmy whistled. "You've done something to yourself—you look different."

  "An improvement?" Her eyes laughed at him.

  "Definitely," he agreed.

  Mrs. Butler was wide-eyed, and Kate looked at her eagerly. "Do you like the new me?"

  "Charming," Mrs. Butler nodded. "Quite charming. What a difference clothes can make! You always look very attractive, my dear, even in those jeans, but in that dress you look quite stunning… that is the word, wouldn't you say, Jimmy?"

  "Stunning is the mot juste," he agreed with a grin.

  Kate kissed her, on impulse. "I won't be late, I promise."

  Mrs. Butler hugged her. "Forget time for tonight. Just enjoy yourself, child."

  There was no sign of Nicholas as they left the house, but as they drove down the drive, Kate, glancing wistfully back, was sure she saw his head outlined against the faint gleam of a window upstairs.

  "I've booked a table at my favourite restaurant." Jimmy smiled at her. "I hope you like French cooking."

  "Where is it?"

  "Half an hour's drive—very popular night spot. You can dance after dinner, and they do a couple of floor shows. Good band, friendly people. You'll like it."

  "It sounds rather smart. Am I suitably dressed?" She looked down doubtfully.

  "Perfect," he assured her. "This isn't London, you know. Girls wear almost anything to these places and no one raises an eyebrow. Things are pretty free and easy."

  "Well, that's a relief." She settled back with a sigh. They drove in silence for a while, then Jimmy glanced at her and asked what she was thinking about.

  "Sylvia," she said absently, then flushed and looked at him in consternation.

  "Funny," he said cheerfully, "so was I! Tell me, Princess, what have you done to offend Sylvia?"

  "How do you mean?" She was wary.

  "When I asked her to give you the message about our date I did it as a tease. I knew it would make her mad to be used as a messenger to another girl, but I didn't expect it to have quite such an effect. She went purple with rage. She hates you, sweetie." He looked at her oddly. "I wonder why."

  "You're exaggerating."

  He shook his head. "No, Sylvia despises me too much to hide her feelings in front of me. She might pretend with Nick, but never with me. What have you done to her?"

  "I haven't done anything." Kate spoke firmly, with some annoyance at his persistence. She did not want to continue with this conversation.

  "Come off it, love. Even Sylvia isn't that irrational. I suppose she objects to Nick's interest in you?"

  His calm reference to Nick brought a flood of hot, revealing colour to her face. She felt her heart thud against her chest and her throat closed convulsively.

  Jimmy shot her a look. "Sorry, am I trespassing on private territory? I was just waffling. But take my advice and steer clear of Sylvia. She makes Mata Hari look like Goldilocks. She's far from being a nice girl."

  "I never thought Goldilocks was very nice, either," said Kate in a desperate attempt to change the subject. "Eating other people's porridge, breaking up their home…"

  "That does sound like Sylvia," agreed Jimmy, with a hoot of laughter.

  "How is your father?" Kate asked wildly.

  Jimmy laughed, but obligingly replied, and the conversation left the subject of Sylvia for the rest of the evening.

  The meal was delectable, beautifully cooked and served, in pleasant but not over-obtrusive surroundings. After they had eaten they danced for a while, then watched the cabaret. Kate found herself getting tired soon afterwards. She was not used to late nights or noise, and the atmosphere of the restaurant during the floor show was rather wearing. The band was beginning to make her head ache, the dazzle of revolving lights, the overheated atmosphere, all combined to give her a feeling of sudden weariness.

  Jimmy grimaced, seeing her suddenly drooping. "You look like a last year's snowdrop. Getting late for you? Shall we go?"

  She smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, it's a bore for you, but I usually go to bed so early. I think you have to be in training for one of these places."

  "Don't think about it," he shrugged. "I'm usually an early bird myself. The farm work starts at crack of dawn, you know, and for all Nick's belief that I'm a gay rover, I tend to be in bed by ten most nights of the week."

  Kate went to the cloakroom to fetch her coat and tidy up. As she came out again into the wide lobby of the restaurant, she saw Sylvia standing with her back to the cloakroom door, talking to the very attractive man she had seen her with in Maiden on the day when she bought all her clothes.

  Jimmy was standing some distance away, watching Sylvia and her companion with curiosity.

  Kate walked towards him. Just before she reached him, Sylvia and her companion went into the restaurant together.

  "Well, well, well," Jimmy murmured. "I wonder what that means…"

  She looked at him enquiringly.

  He grinned. "Sylvia's escort is none other than Sir Rodney Paton."

  "Paton?" The name was faintly familiar. She looked into the restaurant. Sylvia and her companion had a table beside a brilliant bank of flowers. Above the pinks and purples of the flowers, Sylvia's utterly simple white dress had a classic simplicity, giving her blonde beauty a new dimension. The finely pleated white folds moulded her body. Around her throat hung a silver chain from which an emerald glittered, set in heavy antique silver. Her hair was swathed elegantly above her face and pinned with a silver lover's knot. She smiled at her companion, leaning forward so that the emerald shone at him as brightly as her green eyes, the cold stone lying just above the fullness of her white breasts.

  Jimmy whistled beneath his breath. "Boy, is he hooked! Sylvia has a problem."

  Kate looked at him with puzzled, worried eyes, her brow knit in concern.

  "Rodney Paton is the big electronics king. Three factories in the south of England, a house in London, and a very elegant house here in Essex. He's a millionaire—just what Sylvia has always wanted for her birthday."

  "Oh," said Kate softly, her frown deepening.

  "Oh, indeed," Jimmy echoed. "But what will dear Sylvia do about Nick? Sir Rodney may be stinking rich, but he isn't either as young or as good-looking as Nick.
I imagine Sylvia is wishing she could have her cake and eat it."

  Kate looked at the man who sat opposite Sylvia. He had a charming, attentive smile on his face, and she could see, even at this distance, that Sylvia engrossed all his attention. He was, as Jimmy had put it, quite hooked. His eyes flickered now and then, tracing the proud sweep of Sylvia's body in the white dress. Then he looked up into her green eyes, and his smile deepened.

  Sylvia was more difficult to read. She was totally responsive to her companion, her eyes fixed on his, her manner pliant and quietly eager, vaguely little-girl beneath her sophistication.

  Kate already knew her too well to be deceived. Sylvia, like a first-rate actress, was giving the performance of her life, but for all its brilliance, it was still acting, and the hollowness came over to the other girl very clearly.

  "She isn't in love with him," she said aloud.

  Jimmy laughed. "Simple Kate! Bless you, of course not. How could you think it?"

  "But she is in love with Nick," Kate said falteringly, and with reluctance. Then, because she had to be honest with herself, "Or rather, she wants more from Nick than just his money. Nick himself attracts her."

  "Sex is a powerful attraction, Kate," Jimmy said lightly. "Even Sylvia has to weigh that against money. When money and sex come in the same box it's very tempting." He put an arm around her and led her out of the restaurant. "Cheer up! Sir Rodney may not be as sexy as Nick, but he has a damned sight more money."

  "It's nothing to do with me," she said defiantly.

  Jimmy sighed. "Dear Kate, I'm on your side, you know. I have a grievance against Sylvia."

  "Oh?" She let him help her into the car and looked up at him as he shut the door.

  "Sylvia has consistently ignored me," he said, grinning. "That's a deadly insult to my virility."

  She laughed at that, smiling at him as he slid the ear into reverse and backed out of the car park. "Sylvia doesn't know what she's missed," she said.

  He was amused. "Don't let Nick hear you say that!"

  "Nick?" She was flushed again at once. "Why shouldn't I?" Her chin went up in defiance.

  "I'm beginning to wonder," Jimmy said softly.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

 

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