In any case, Kate told herself firmly, it's none of my business. Nick and Sylvia must sort their own affairs out. I have to face the fact that I have no place here. Once Mrs. Butler is on her feet again I must go. That afternoon she was scrubbing a piece of harness, which had been left untouched for years in a corner of the stable, when someone knocked loudly on the back door.
"Come in," she called, expecting a tradesman. A small, slightly grubby face peered round the door and Kate stared in surprise. A boy of about eight inserted himself gradually, revealing an open-necked blue shirt and shabby blue jeans. Clutched to his small middle was a large hutch. Inside it a black and white rabbit sat, twitching nose and whiskers.
"Hallo," Kate said invitingly. "Who are you?"
"Kevin Nunn," the boy said hoarsely. "Well, come on in and put your friend down," Kate told him in a friendly tone.
He stumbled across the floor and placed the hutch, with reverent care, on the floor.
"Will you give him a home?" He stood up, looking at her with pleading, desperate eyes. "Why does he need one?" Kate asked.
"My mother had to go into hospital and my granny says she can't look after Robby as well as Dad and me. She said he must go. I thought you'd take him until Mum comes home again. I'll come back for him, honest!" He looked at her, lips trembling. His hand came out, at the same time. In the palm were clutched a handful of coins. "I brought money for his food. He doesn't eat much—he likes carrot and dandelions best."
Kate pushed his hand away. "Keep your money, Kevin. We have plenty of fresh vegetables in our garden. Bring Robby through into the stables and we'll pick out a nice warm place for his hutch."
He flushed with relief. "Thanks! I don't know what I'd do if I had to give him up for good,"
He followed her through the garden to the stables. They decided on an empty stall which would give Robby fresh air and protection from the weather at the same time, and when Kevin had seen his pet safely installed, and fed him a small piece of bread and a few lettuce leaves, Kate offered to show him some of the other animals.
He was eager to see them. "Donkeys! You are lucky! I've always wanted a donkey. Robby was the first pet I was allowed to have—I've had a goldfish since Robby came, but the goldfish died. There wasn't much fun in him anyway. He just blew bubbles all day."
She laughed. "I know what you mean."
"Haven't you got any dogs?" he asked her, staring at the horses and donkeys with fascinated eyes.
"Yes, they're around somewhere. We let them run free inside the grounds."
"How many have you got?"
She told him about the dogs while he was stroking the donkeys. Patient and gentle, they let him come up close and finger their long ears. The horses nuzzled Kate, and Kevin laughed.
"Why are they pushing you like that?"
"They're looking for apple or sugar." She pulled out of her pocket a handful of sugar lumps, and handed them to Kevin. "Feed them these—they'll be your friends for life."
He looked a little nervously at the horses' teeth, and she showed him how to hold his palm flat beneath the loose-lipped animals' mouths.
Delicately, they snuffled up the sugar. The little boy giggled helplessly.
"It tickles! Can I give them some more?"
"No, one lump is enough. Too much is bad for them." She turned and saw the dogs streaking across the park. Kevin saw them, too, and gasped with excitement.
They met the dogs at the edge of the kitchen garden. Gambolling playfully, the three animals greeted Kevin with curiosity and noisy excitement. Kate glanced up at the house and saw Aunt Elaine staring out of a window. She had been drawn by the noise the dogs were making, and waved to Kate to bring the boy into the house.
Kevin was reluctant to leave his newfound friends, but he came upstairs to meet Aunt Elaine, when Kate explained to him that that was the lady who actually ran this delightful paradise for animal-lovers.
"So you have a refugee rabbit, have you?" Aunt Elaine said cheerfully, after Kate had explained his presence at Sanctuary.
He looked nervously at her, clearly half afraid that she would even now withdraw permission for Robby to stay here.
Aunt Elaine winked at him. "Do you know, Robby is my first rabbit? Mind you, there are plenty of wild rabbits in the park—we have to keep an eye on them, because they get into the vegetables if we don't watch out."
"You… you don't shoot them, do you?" he quavered, eyeing her with alarm.
She laughed. "Goodness, no! We just try to keep our garden fences properly wired. The foxes are their main enemy, I'm afraid."
"Foxes?" He stared, eyes like saucers. "Have you got foxes, too?"
"My dear boy, of course! Their dens are well hidden, but I've seen them in the twilight and the early morning, stalking rabbits and birds across the park. A flash of russet fur and they've gone."
Kate discreetly withdrew, leaving Kevin to sink on to the bed absentmindedly, drinking in every word Aunt Elaine said to him.
When she returned later she found them still engrossed in each other. She pointed out that it was getting rather late for Kevin to be out. He lived in the village, a walk of some fifteen minutes away, and his family would be anxious about him if he did not leave soon.
"I told Dad I'd come here," Kevin volunteered. "He said as how it was a chance, but he didn't think you'd be bothered with a rabbit."
When he had gone, Kate took Aunt Elaine a light tea, boiled egg with bread and butter, and a peeled banana with lemon jelly.
"Nursery tea, my dear?" She received a wry, affectionate glance.
Laughing, Kate sat down beside the bed. "I should have brought poor little Kevin some, too, then perhaps you would have eaten it!"
"Are you feeding me up, by any chance?" But Aunt Elaine began to eat her meal, despite her teasing.
"Did I tell you that Nick had showed me the cottage he's bought you?" Kate tried hard to sound casual. "It's rather a charming little place. It would be easy to run. It's been nicely modernised."
"I know the place," came the dry retort. "A neat little box for an old lady."
Kate glanced at her ruefully. "Nick is trying to please you, you know."
"Then he isn't succeeding! Look at this…" Aunt Elaine turned to pick up the silver basket of grapes which Sylvia had brought her. "Expensive, useless, idiotic! It sums up everything about the girl! She's not the person to take care of Sanctuary."
"Whoever Nick married might not be prepared to take on your animals!" Kate tried to make her protest gentle.
"The animals are irrelevant—the house itself is what matters. The house and Nick. Nick needs a warm-hearted, loving girl. He doesn't need Sylvia."
"Surely only Nick can decide that!"
She received a long, close look which made her flush hotly. "Nick knows very well that he's made a mistake. He needs to be helped to escape."
Kate got up stiffly. "I'll take your tray down if you've finished."
Aunt Elaine laughed softly. "Little ostrich!"
Kate did not care to think too deeply about the meaning of that enigmatic remark.
Nick arrived back early, ruffled and untidy after a day on a building site near London. He gave her a broad grin when he came into the kitchen, pushing back his hair from his forehead with the back of his hand.
"I must run up and wash before dinner! I'm a mess. I had a very tiring day."
"Sylvia came to see Aunt Elaine," she told him in a calm voice which she hoped did not betray any feelings either way.
"Oh?" Nick shot her a look. "I hope that that meeting went off all right?"
"They were polite to each other."
"No fireworks?"
"None that I noticed. Sylvia brought her some grapes and was very sympathetic about her illness." Kate tried not to sound ironic. If Nick had no idea how hopeful Sylvia had been, it was not her place to enlighten him.
"Good," Nick said absently, leaving the kitchen.
That evening, for the first time, Aunt Elaine
needed no constant scrutiny. She lay reading for an hour or two, then switched out her light, so that when Kate peeped in at nine, there was only the deep steady sound of breathing in the quiet room.
Kate stood listening for a while, relieved and happy. Aunt Elaine was undoubtedly much improved. Her chest and cleared, her health seemed set fair.
She closed the door and slowly walked down the stairs, gradually falling into a melancholy mood. Now she must go. She had no further excuse for staying here. Aunt Elaine no longer needed her, and Nicholas wanted her to go.
She stood in the kitchen doorway, watching his bent dark head. He was reading, his profile turned towards her. He was wearing a pale blue sweater with a deep cowl neckline. It gave him a faintly monastic appearance. The strong chin and warm, firm mouth were relaxed, the dark hair slightly ruffled, curling a little against his neck.
He turned suddenly, sensing her presence. They looked at each other across the shadowy room. Nick smiled, involuntarily, with a tenderness that made Kate tremble and look away.
"I think I'll go to bed," she stammered. "Aunt Elaine is asleep now. She won't need anything else tonight, I'm sure she's really better now. Goodnight, Nick."
He answered absently, watching her as she fled in disarray. His eyes narrowed, his lips tightened. For a long time he stared at the spot where she had stood.
Kate was surprised to find herself falling asleep quite quickly. She had expected to be wakeful for hours. Her thoughts were so painful and so confused that sleep should have eluded her. Her mind was a battlefield, yet her body, exhausted by many nights of sleepless care for Aunt Elaine, demanded that her restless mind give way.
She slept, yet her mind, having so far obeyed her body, was still unable to rest, and her sleep was disturbed by strange, chaotic dreams. Tangled images pursued her through avenues of darkness. Sylvia, offering her a silver basket of grapes, laughed spitefully and pushed her out of the gates of Sanctuary. Aunt Elaine tossed endlessly, flushed and feverish, crying out that she must not die or Sanctuary would fall into Sylvia's grasping hands. Nick looked up, his lashes masking his grey eyes, and Kate felt her heart drop sickeningly with passion.
She was back at home with her aunt in Devon. The sun was warm on her skin. Someone was knocking somewhere. She knew, vaguely, that it was Nick, and she cried out to him to let her go. She had to go, she told him.
Then she sat up suddenly, dream and sleep falling away. There had been a sound, something indefinable but alarming.
She listened, skin prickling. Again it came… it was the creak of a board. On the landing? No, she thought. She knew that sound. It was one of the boards in the hall.
Someone was downstairs, creeping along the hall.
Nick? She looked at the little clock on her bedside table. Nick, creeping about, at two in the morning?
She got out of bed, groping for her dressing-gown, and went quietly out on to the landing. She listened, but nothing moved. A clock ticked somewhere, a stately sound, familiar and comforting. There were no lights anywhere.
Slowly she tiptoed down the stairs. She was almost at the foot of them when she heard someone move in the hall. A clink, as of china, was followed by a strange rustling.
She peered down into the hall. There was someone moving about, a darker shadow in the shadows, Nick? No. Too short, too broad.
She moved to the light switch and clicked it down, light sprang. The dark shadow swung, cursing in a startled, angry voice.
And Kate recognised him—the door-to-door salesman who had been so curious and importunate. He had been bending over the umbrella stand. On the floor near her lay a large holdall. It gaped, displaying some of the contents of the china cabinet: porcelain, silver, a few pieces of ivory.
As she looked at it the intruder ran at her, moving lightly for someone of his bulk. She was taken off guard and let out an instinctive shout. Then, summoning her wits, she screamed again, "Nick—help!"
Before she could scream again a large hand clamped down on her mouth. She was caught by the hair and flung backwards against the wall. Her head smashed against plaster with an impact that sickened her. She groaned and slumped to the floor, pain darkening her eyes.
CHAPTER TEN
For a while pain made her deaf and blind. Then, as the violent waves of agony subsided, becoming merely a steady throb, she began to hear again; a scuffling, voices, then a queer thud.
She pulled herself slowly up, clutching her head as a stab of pain shot through the back of her eyes. It was very hard to move, but she must make the effort. Slowly she prised her lids apart.
A figure Hocked the kitchen doorway, looming like a tower against the light. Kate blinked, trying to focus.
It was Nick! He was beside her in a second, lifting her by her shoulders, his fingers moving over her absently as he spoke.
"What the hell did he do to you? Kate, are you all right?"
She had to speak, but it was an effort which hurt. "Burglar…" The word scratched out weakly. Her lips seemed numb with the barbed pain which was consuming her.
Nick shrugged her warning aside. "I've dealt with him—tied him up with washing line."
She giggled weakly, finding that funny for some reason, Her eyes were getting used to the light.
He gently turned her face towards him and swore ferociously under his breath. "My God, your head… it's bleeding!"
"I'm only bruised," she assured him.
"Come into the kitchen. I'll take a look," Nick sounded brusque and icily angry.
"Police," she mumbled.
He nodded. "Yes. I'll go and ring them. Hang on here…" He left her. She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes again with relief. It was wonderful to be back in darkness again.
Nick returned too soon. He gently guided her into the kitchen. Their intruder lay on the floor, neatly trussed hand and foot like a chicken. Kate stepped past him gingerly and he glared up at her.
"The police will be here in a few minutes," Nick told him cheerfully.
There was no answer. Nick made Kate sit down and brought a bowl of water over to the table. He tilted her chin, and she kept her eyes closed while he tenderly sponged her head.
"You're going to have a very nasty bump there," he told her. "It was bleeding, but it's not serious, just a graze. It's swelling already. Soon it will be all the colours of the rainbow."
When he had removed the water and dried her head, he glanced down at the burglar.
"I wish I'd hit you a damned sight harder! If you were not tied up I'd give you a good thrashing, you cowardly scoundrel! Anyone who can do this to a young girl…" Nicholas's voice broke off in frustrated fury and he glared impotently at the other man.
The police arrived shortly afterwards. They removed the burglar, took a statement from Nick and Kate and asked them both to come down to the police station later that morning.
The sergeant, a short burly man with a moustache, looked at Kate's bruised head, and advised Nick to call a doctor.
"She could have slight concussion. Head injuries are dodgy things. Best not to take any chances."
Nick nodded. "I'll do that,"
The sergeant took away the bag of valuable objects which the man had been attempting to steal. "We need these for a while, I'm afraid—evidence, you know. You'll get them back in due time. We'll give you a receipt for them now. Could you make out an inventory?"
Nick looked through the objects and quickly scribbled out a list. The sergeant checked the list against the items in the bag, and signed it.
He left a few moments later, congratulating them both on their achievement.
Nick looked at Kate with a rueful grin. "It's you we have to thank. I only just heard you screaming my name. I didn't hear the burglar at all. If it hadn't been for you we would have lost all that stuff."
"I heard him moving about," she explained.
"I seem to be piling up an enormous debt to you," he said. "How shall I ever repay you?"
Kate looked down at her fi
ngers, twisting them into a knot. She could not think of anything to say to him. Huskily, she stammered, "Nonsense… anyone would have done the same…" Then, with a flushed face and feverish eyes, "I don't want your gratitude!"
He put a slim hand over her contorting fingers and gently straightened them. "What do you want, Kate?" His tone was strangely tense.
She swallowed, her pulses drumming, and did not answer him. After a moment of taut silence he stood up and moved away from her. "I'd better ring the doctor."
"No," she said in quick protest. "Not in the middle of the night! I'll see him in the morning when he comes to see Aunt Elaine. I'm certain I haven't got concussion."
Nick hesitated, then agreed. They put out the lights and went back up to their beds in silence.
Next morning Kate was washing up when suddenly remembered that the burglar had been studying the umbrella stand when she switched on the light last night.
He had seemed interested in it when he last came. Could it possibly be more valuable than Aunt Elaine imagined?
She mentioned it to her when she took her some hot milk later that morning, but Aunt Elaine laughed and shook her head. "Why, of course that thing isn't valuable! How could it be? Victorian mass-produced at its ugliest?"
"I like it," said Kate.
Aunt Elaine looked at her with tender amusement. "Well, if it's going to worry you, by all means call in an expert. Try the phone book—look up Pan's Cellar, an antique shop on the road to Maiden. The owner is a retired don, knows a lot about these things. He can come out and give us an estimate of the value."
Kate rang the shop before Aunt Elaine could change her mind, and the owner, his voice coolly interested by the name of the house, promised to call that afternoon.
The doctor was late that day. His arrival coincided with that of the antique dealer, so Kate asked the doctor to find his own way upstairs, and took the dealer down the hall to look at the umbrella stand.
She explained the circumstances of the burglary of the previous evening, and the man listened thoughtfully while he examined the stand from all angles. He seemed particularly interested in the base and the interior!
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