‘I’m working for a man who bought my godmother’s place and he’s running it as a riding school, and I like the work very much,’ she told him. ‘I always wanted an outdoor life anyway, so it suits me very well.’
There was a pause while he scanned her face intently. Was he looking for signs of a broken heart? she wondered wryly. Did he by any chance think she was putting on a false front to hide her hurt at his rejection?
Well, whatever he was searching for he didn’t get, she thought with a little glow of satisfaction as she detected a faint look of disappointment flit over his face.
When he had once more repeated how delighted he was to see her, and showed no signs of breaking off the conversation, the suspicion flashed through her mind that the affair with the American girl was over and that he was now attempting to patch things up, and renew his relationship with her.
A moment later he made it clear her surmise was all too correct. She had hit the nail on the head. With the disarming impulsiveness he could assume when he wanted to be at his most charming, Jeremy tucked her arm in his and pressed it close. ‘But this is wonderful! I can’t tell you how bucked I feel meeting you again. What about some coffee and a chat?’ He half turned as though to lead her into the hotel.
She pulled her arm away abruptly. ‘Thanks, no! I’m to meet someone.’
He looked dismayed. ‘Then you’ll have time for a drink.’
‘No, Jeremy,’ she replied firmly. ‘There would be no point in it. After all, what have you and I to chat about? As far as I’m concerned the past is over.’
But Jeremy was not to be so easily put off. ‘There’s no reason why you and I shouldn’t be friends,’ he insisted stubbornly. ‘Let’s go in for a few minutes. There’s something I want to say to you, and I can’t do it out here.’
And before she knew quite what had happened Briony found herself hustled willy-nilly into the hotel and plumped down on one of the comfortable blue and green banquettes that lined the foyer.
Briony looked at him in desperation. ‘What on earth do you want to talk about, Jeremy?’ She glanced anxiously at her watch. Blane would be appearing at any moment and Jeremy was the last person she wanted him to see her with. Nothing would escape his quick eye. Instantly he would be ferreting out the facts behind her humiliating rejection. The thought made her voice shrill with anxiety. ‘But this is ridiculous! You made it quite clear the last time we met just how you felt about me.’
‘I won’t keep you more than a few minutes,’ Jeremy assured her hurriedly, with a new air of humility that she had never noticed in him before. ‘It’s just this, to put it in a nutshell, well—after you’d gone, I realised what a fool I’d been. I must have been crazy to let you go. There were a lot of things I didn’t understand. My values are completely different now.’ His eyes fixed on her face with new awareness. ‘And you know, you’re even prettier now than you were—if that’s possible.’
Catching a glimpse of herself in the ornate mirror that covered the wall on the opposite side of the foyer, Briony realised he was only speaking the truth. She had new colour in her cheeks and an air of energy and vitality that she had never had when working for Stanton, Hodges & Co. Her hair was rippling and shining, her skin clear and translucent. And, in a strange way, unpredictable as Blane was, she felt more security in her job. Looking back, she realised that she had subconsciously known that her relationship with Jeremy rested on a shaky basis. His facile charm had varied from day to day, and she had never quite known where she was with him. His final departure to Aberdeen and his rejection of her was simply something she had been vaguely dreading since she had first fallen in love with him.
‘I take it, then, that it’s all over between you and Miss Morgan?’ she asked dryly.
‘Yes, it’s completely all over,’ he said eagerly. ‘I don’t know what on earth made me fall for her in the first place. She’s so utterly superficial.’
But Briony was not deceived. ‘I think I know how it happened,’ she told him. ‘She was so sophisticated, a woman of the world, and compared to her I was like the girl next door. All the same, I’d be interested to know why you think she’s superficial.’
He had the grace to look faintly abashed. ‘Oh, I discovered there’s only one thing that interests her, and that’s money and position. When the son of a big shot in the oil world blew in from Texas, poor old Jeremy found himself out in the cold. But don’t let’s talk about the past,’ he continued urgently. ‘What do you say to my slipping down to Abergour one of these days? We could have a little get-together, just like old times. Don’t say no, Briony, because you and I always got on well together, and I do honestly feel rotten about the way I treated you.’
She shook her head and stood up. ‘No, Jeremy, it wouldn’t work out. You’d better realise it’s all over between us, once and for all.’
Reluctantly he got to his feet. She saw the familiar sulky frown as he realised that his charm was of no avail, and she felt a sense of surprise as she remembered how anxiously she would at one time have tried to avoid his sudden fits of displeasure.
‘Very well,’ he told her huffily, ‘if that’s how you feel! But there’s no need to be so bitter. After all, we did have some good times together.’
‘I’m not bitter,’ she assured him. ‘Just a bit more wary, perhaps.’ But even as she said it she had the guilty feeling that she was not being absolutely honest with him. If Blane had not entered her life would she have rejected Jeremy’s attempts at a reconciliation quite so firmly?
‘You must give me your address in Abergour,’ he urged. ‘After all, there is a bond between us, in spite of everything. I’ve still got your ring, you know. I’ll never part from it.’
Reluctantly she did as he asked, and when he had noted down her address, he turned away with that little-boy-wronged air which was, she realised now, part of his stock in trade.
As he left her, she noticed with dismay that Blane had come through the swing doors of the hotel. As he advanced towards her she knew from his expression that he had seen them in conversation, and as Jeremy passed him he turned his head and gave him a searching glance.
‘You’ve fallen in with an acquaintance, I see,’ Blane remarked casually as he joined her, and together they moved out of the foyer.
‘Oh yes,’ she said, trying to sound equally casual. ‘Someone who used to work with me in the office!’
‘I see! Well, considering I’m later than I expected, it must have helped to pass the time for you.’ But the glance he gave her was every bit as searching as the one he had given Jeremy, and she turned her head away with a sudden inexplicable feeling of embarrassment.
To her relief he made no further reference to the incident but chatted easily while they had their meal in the large restaurant. But as far as Briony was concerned, the pleasant companionable relationship which had existed during the drive into town had now evaporated. She felt curiously upset by that chance encounter with Jeremy. The old life had intruded on the new and, in spite of the fact that she had given Jeremy no hope of a reconciliation, there vividly flashed through her mind remembrances of the time when he had meant so much to her—days when she had waited for the phone calls which he had not troubled to make, or had watched the post for letters which had not arrived.
Suddenly she became conscious of the long pause in the conversation and looked up to find Blane’s eyes fixed on her troubled face. ‘This young friend of yours, he seems a nice enough chap,’ he said.
‘Oh yes,’ she agreed quickly, then found herself babbling on. ‘He was always frightfully ambitious, a real go-ahead type, and when the office was opened in Aberdeen he was one of the first to apply to be transferred. I expect he’ll wind up an executive in the firm.’
‘You didn’t mind his going, then?’ he asked.
‘Why should I?’ she replied quickly—rather too quickly, she realised.
He raised his brows ‘Don’t tell me you’re unaware that your friend is extremely good-l
ooking and, I suspect, very charming when he wants to be?’
‘No, of course not!’ she said airily. ‘Jeremy Warne was considered quite a catch. In fact, most of the girls were crazy about him.’
‘In that case,’ he said dryly, ‘he must have left behind quite a lot of broken hearts—with the exception of yours, of course!’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ she demanded.
‘Well, you’re obviously not one of the girls he left behind him,’ he told her dryly. ‘Abergour isn’t so far from Aberdeen, after all. You’ll have plenty of opportunities for rendezvousing.’
‘Considering I spend so much of my time at the Lennox Riding School, working like a slave, I certainly won’t have much opportunity to see him,’ she replied tartly.
His eyes lit up with amusement and she realised she had hit the right note. Blane Lennox was the sort of man who liked a girl to speak up for herself, and her reply had completely disarmed him—for the time being at least.
But as they strolled towards the car he was silent, and she wondered if it could be possible that he was resentful of her meeting with Jeremy. But she dismissed the thought immediately. Blane had so much self-confidence that the idea of his resenting her interest in another man was ridiculous. Anyway, it was only too clear that Senga was the girl he was interested in!
The reason for his attitude became apparent as they drove swiftly towards Abergour. ‘You know, Briony, I wonder how long you’re going to be content at the Riding School?’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ She turned to gaze at him in amazement.
‘Well, you’ve not very many young people to turn to, have you? Oh, you hit it off well enough with the boys, Johnny and Andy: you always seem to have something to laugh and chat about. Now there’s this chap in Aberdeen! To begin with, he’s more your age than I am, but apart from that, I expect he’s good company. It’s natural you should get along well. As for me—well, I’m too wrapped up in business perhaps. I never seem to have time to relax. I expect it’s because I took on responsibility while I was still very young.’
Briony’s first reaction was one of relief. So he suspected nothing more in her relationship with Jeremy than that they had been good pals in her previous job. Somehow she shrank from the thought of his knowing how deeply she had been involved with Jeremy at one time. The story of her humiliating rejection was the last thing she wanted to come to his ears.
She gave him a covert glance. He drove swiftly and expertly, she realised, his eyes fixed on the road, dark and withdrawn. Suddenly she felt a tenderness well up in her heart for him. Strange to think that this stern man should envy the sound of the laughter she shared with Johnny and Andy many a time in the tack room. She could hardly let him know that, since meeting him, Jeremy’s facile charm and the fascination that he had once exerted over her had quite faded. And as for Johnny and Andy, as far as she was concerned, they were mere babies! Never at any time had she even remotely thought of taking them seriously.
Well, at any rate, better he should think that what she desired was youthful companionship, than suspect the thrill of happiness she felt when sitting side by side with this vital, mature man who held an attraction for her that frightened her with its intensity.
What would be his reaction, she wondered a little wildly, if she were to tell him now that he was the most fascinating man she had ever met and that she was madly in love with him? To her dismay she heard herself give a little hysterical giggle.
He glanced at her. ‘What’s the joke?’
‘Oh, just thinking of something utterly ludicrous,’ she told him.
His lips curved in a smile that, to her surprise, was almost tender. ‘Well, at any rate you seem to have enjoyed our little outing.’
‘Yes, of course I have,’ she told him truthfully. Not even Jeremy could spoil this for her, she thought, and it was something she could remember in future days, when this hard taskmaster of hers brought her temper to boiling point.
In companionable silence they drove through the village and finally stopped outside the little wooden gate to Amulree Cottage.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
As the car stopped, Briony said, ‘I’ll change into working gear and come along for the rest of the afternoon. I shan’t be long.’
‘No need to do that,’ Blane replied. ‘You’ve done well enough for one day as far as I’m concerned.’
She hesitated before getting out of the car. How she longed to be able to prolong the occasion by inviting him into Amulree for tea! But Hettie’s antagonistic attitude towards him made such a thing completely out of the question.
Reluctantly she reached for the door, but her hand had barely touched it when Blane enclosed her fingers in a firm grip that prevented her from pulling on the handle.
Startled, she turned to face him.
‘No need to go right away, Briony.’ His voice was low and urgent and something in the steady, almost fierce look that raked her face made her heart beat faster.
‘Hettie will be wondering why—’ she began.
‘Let’s keep Hettie out of this. Would you be so anxious to part from me if I were Jeremy Warne, I wonder?’
‘But that’s nonsense!’ she said, attempting a laugh which, even to her own ears, sounded nervously uncertain.
‘You mean you’ve never as much as exchanged a parting kiss?’ he asked sardonically.
‘What do you mean by that?’
‘Look, you can’t pull the wool over my eyes, Briony. I’ve seen you and this Jeremy together. Don’t tell me you’ve not been very close friends!’
She attempted a show of indifference. ‘But of course we have! I’ve told you that we worked together in the same office. People can’t meet day after day and remain strangers. Naturally we got to know each other well.’
‘How well?’ he rapped, his eyes steely.
She turned her head away, as she realised with a rush that whatever feeling she had once had for Jeremy was nothing like the overwhelming attraction she felt for this man so close beside her.
But before she could gather her wits to form a suitable answer, his arms were about her. ‘Dear Briony, can’t you see I don’t want you to leave me—ever,’ he said, his voice very low, as his lips met hers.
It was then, with dizzying happiness, she realised that she had been right, for never in Jeremy’s arms had she felt such ecstasy.
She was breathless when he released her. But as her head stopped whirling, a cold monitoring little voice seemed to whisper a warning in her ear, reminding her that Jeremy had caused her heartbreak. How much more so would it be with a man like Blane, were she fool enough to fall for what was probably, as far as he was concerned, no more than a moment’s indulgence. To him, this couldn’t mean anything serious or lasting, when it was obvious that he had his future pretty well mapped out with Senga.
Well, this time she was not going to be a dupe, she told herself with sudden overriding fury. Never again would a man attract her and then discard her as casually as Jeremy had done! And before she realised just what she was about, she had struck out wildly at Blane—ineffectually, as it proved, for in her rage, her fingers barely grazed his jaw.
She didn’t wait to see his reaction, but wrenching at the car door, she sprang out and raced up the path. But as she pushed on the cottage door, she found that it was locked. Hettie must be out. Tremulous with agitation, she fumbled in her bag for her key. As she did so, she heard Blane’s car roar off, scattering gravel that spurted beneath the wheels like an expression of his anger and contempt.
Sick at heart, she went into the sitting-room. It was a consolation that Hettie was not at home, she thought drearily. She would not, at least, have to face her godmother’s reproaches had she been a witness to the scene.
Wearily she climbed the steps to her room and sank down on her bed. Her thoughts whirled round and round in confusion. Why on earth had she acted so impulsively? If only she had retained her dignity and, instead of letting emotion overwhel
m her, had dismissed the episode with the sort of sophistication Senga would have shown. Instead, she had reacted impulsively. He would bitterly resent her behaviour—of that she was certain. So proud a man would not take that treatment without retaliating, and she dreaded facing him in the morning.
On the following day Briony lingered over her breakfast, reluctant to face the walk to Birchfields and the moment of encountering him. It would be like confronting a dragon in his den, she decided apprehensively.
Hettie glanced at her curiously, as she bustled around collecting the ingredients for her weekly bread-making session. ‘It’s not like you to dawdle over breakfast. Usually you can’t get up to Birchfields fast enough! Not that it would be any harm if you lost that precious job of yours!’
With a guilty start Briony got to her feet. It was true that she was reluctant to leave the familiar and sheltering walls of Amulree. But Hettie was beginning to clear away the breakfast table in such a marked manner that Briony realised she would have to set off.
As she approached the Riding School she seemed to be seeing it with fresh eyes. Smooth green turf enclosed by gleaming white railings; severely symmetrical loose-boxes—it occurred to her that this new Birchfields that Blane had created was strictly functional. Even the flower-beds in front of the house seemed regimented. No doubt he would consider a brightly coloured herbaceous border a waste of valuable space!
At the moment there was no sign of him, and as she walked along the drive she wondered if she could slip into the tack room without encountering him.
But she was out of luck. As she went into the yard she saw him approach and to her dismay she realised that things were much worse than she had expected. Instead of looking irate, he looked dangerously calm, his face set, as though carved out of hard stone, his eyes cold.
‘You’re late!’ he said shortly, his voice full of contempt, and to her dismay Briony felt her cheeks redden.
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