'Mr
Murray,' she began again, this time quietly, 'you
don't
have to worry about anything like that. I have no par
ticular
boy-friend in London, nor do I intend looking for
one here.'
He
still considered her closely and she couldn't read what was at the back of bis
enigmatical eyes. For a moment she
thought the talk of
boy-friends, with its implied connotations, had stirred him. Yet if it had
made him think
momentarily of sex, she couldn't believe he
was associating
it with her. There must be enough women who
would be
only too willing to give a man as handsome as Logan
Murray
everything he demanded. Remembering the effect of his unconscious mouth, Thea
trembled. She must take
great care not to become one of them!
'Right!'
She jumped as his crisp voice cut through her
uneasy thoughts.
Before she could speak, he began swiftly
outlining her duties,
acquainting her of several more rules
and regulations until she
feared she would never remember
the half of them. Then
he paused, but when she supposed
thankfully that he had
finished, he shot at her, 'I under
stand you went shopping yesterday?'
'Yes.'
She could see nothing wrong with that. 'We were short of so many things, but I
paid for everything and kept
the bills. To show you, of course.'
'How
much?' he demanded grimly, with no regard for
her conciliatory little ending.
She
told him.
'Let
me have the accounts and I'll settle with you. In future bear in mind that
that's almost the sum I allow for
an entire week.'
'A
week?' Why, she had spent more on herself!
'Yes,
a week!' he repeated, making sure, she was cer
tain, that she
understood.
'But
...' she began, her eyes completely betraying her
incredulous thoughts.
'Miss
Andrews!' this time his glance was laced with
green flames, 'I
will not have you coming here dictating to
me. Didn't I warn you, you'd have to rid
yourself of that idea, once I was out of bed. Well, I'm out of bed now, so
listen carefully. You aren't my idea of a housekeeper and never will be.
Unfortunately, as I keep on learning, beggars can't be choosers. However,
that's not to say I'll put up with anything. Either you obey me and do as I
say—or out! And there'll be no ifs or buts about it. You will be back on
the road so fast, not even your shadow will be able to keep up with you.'
Furious though Thea
felt at this less than gentle lecture, she could see no immediate way of
actively opposing the man. The warning he had given was too clear, and she
guessed he wouldn't think twice before carrying out his threats, some part of
her being well aware that he was already regretting having allowed her to stay
in the first place. She wasn't even sure that she dared protest again about the
money he expected her to manage on. It seemed a terribly small amount on which
to feed a family, unless they were prepared to live on turnips! There were
plenty of those in the pit outside. Back in the kitchen, on a piece of paper at
the kitchen table, she wrote out a menu.
Turnips—Fried—grilled—boiled—baked. Turnip fritters
with sugar, Steamed turnip pudding with custard ...
When Martha asked what
she was doing, she screwed up the piece of paper and threw it crossly away,
without replying. Unfortunately Jamie found it before dinner and showed it
to his father, giggling as though he had found a comic strip of jokes. Thea's
cheeks flamed as she met Logan Murray's cold eyes. He knew what it was about,
if Jamie didn't, and he was not so amused as his son.
Convinced she had
blotted her copybook good and proper, Thea spent the next few days going
through the house like a small fury. Industriously she brushed and polished,
finding so much dust that she couldn't help wondering what Logan's previous
housekeepers had been doing. What she was trying to prove by such a burst of
energy she wasn't sure, and when Logan eventually asked her this sharply, she
didn't know what to say.
'I think it's your
first taste of being told what to do, or possibly what you can't do, and you
don't like it,' he said coolly when he caught her laying a fire in the library.
With an equally cool interest he studied the smut of soot on her delicate
little nose before dropping to the soft curves of the mobile mouth below it.
'You daren't, for some reason I'm not yet aware of, go against my authority, so
you're trying to get at me through the house, or rather the state of it.'
'No, I'm not,' she
denied, flinging back the fine gold hair which kept getting in her eyes, hating
to admit he could be right. Gran and Grandfather had always ruled her life, but
within the limits they had set she had been able to do much as she liked.
Taking a deep breath, she avoided his searching gaze. 'I'm just trying to make
the place more comfortable, for Jamie's sake. You can't sit in the kitchen, now
that I'm here, but with a Little effort this room could be made nice.'
'Why can't I sit in
the kitchen now you're here?' he countered idly.
'Didn't your other
housekeepers mind?' She frowned, wishing he wouldn't challenge her every
statement.
He laughed. 'I rarely
have time to sit, you silly girl, and when I do it's usually in here. I do all
my office work in the evenings.'
'But
when your wife was alive
' she
began, then
stopped, just as
suddenly, as his face darkened.
'My wife never lived
here,' he enlightened Thea curtly, 'so you don't have to speculate about that.'
Thea knew some things
were better left alone, but a kind of reckless indiscretion lay over her.
'Then, if she was never here, how could Martha not like her?'
'Martha did see her
once or twice,' he agreed.
'Then...'
•
'Miss
Andrews!' Logan took her arm, looking as if he
could cheerfully
break it, just to enjoy her cry of pain.
Roughly he jerked her to
her feet, from her crouching position beside the fireplace. So near, she could
see the
grim set of his strong mouth, the thick, spiky lashes
which framed the brilliant green of his eyes. 'Miss Andrews,' he
turned
her harshly towards the door, 'will you kindly go
and
leave me in peace! Isn't it time, anyway, that you went
to fetch Jamie?'
'Jamie?'
She was trembling as he let go of her, for both
his tone and touch
had been vicious. She had forgotten about Jamie, and he worried if she wasn't
on time. 'Yes,' she wrenched her eyes from the hard face above her, 'I'll
go
now, once I've washed my hands. I—I'm sorry if I've
upset you.'
He
shook his head, but she didn't think it was to indicate
that
what she said didn't matter. It was more as though he
was
attempting to shake away the past, which had returned
unbidden because of
her foolish remarks.
She
couldn't find the keys for the Land Rover. They
seemed to have
disappeared from their usual hook on the
kitchen dresser. Neither
were they in her jeans pockets,
nor in the pockets of her
coat. Eventually Martha, awaken
ing from one of her many
small naps, informed her that
Himself had taken them earlier and
that she would likely
find them left in the vehicle!
They
were, and muttering uncomplimentary things
under her breath, Thea
raced all the way to the village. For all she positively risked her neck, on
reaching the village school she found Jamie had gone. One of the other pupils,
who
was still hanging around, said Jamie had taken the
short cut home over
the moors.
Feeling
full of remorse because he must have thought
she wasn't
coming, Thea raced back to Drumlarig. Already
it was growing
dark, and Martha had once mentioned that
when Jamie came home
across the moors at night he often
stopped to play by the
loch, something his father had for
bidden. The last time he had done it, he had
been sent to bed without his supper.
Knowing
how hungry Jamie always was by dinner time,
Thea thought this cruel,
and was determined he shouldn't
be sent to bed without
his dinner tonight. Not when it
hadn't been his fault
that she had been late and missed him
at school. He ought to
have known she would turn up, but
at his age it was very
easy to panic. She should have
watched the time and not let Murray
provoke her.
Parking
the Land Rover, she didn't go back into the
house but set off
immediately along the moorland track to
meet him. With any luck
they would soon be home and
Murray need never know what had
happened. Anxiously she realised that her growing friendship with Jamie might
as
yet be too delicate to survive the grim onslaught of his
father's temper.
About
a mile from the house, on the path which clung to
the
edge of a wide stretch of water to the north of it, in the distance she saw
Jamie coming. Torn with anxiety that
something might have
happened to him, she felt relief
surge through her as she
caught sight of his small figure.
Almost desperately she
waved her arms and began to run.
When she came to where a
tumbling stream ran deeply into
the loch, she didn't
stop but plunged recklessly through it.
She
was very wet when she dragged herself clumsily out
on
the other side, but this didn't seem to matter. What
with
the rain and the rivers, she didn't seem to have been
dry
since she came here! It was Jamie. Thea was so pleased
to
see him, she simply flung her arms around him with a
gasp
of relief. Whether he appreciated this or not, she
wasn't
sure, but at least he didn't immediately move away.
'Jamie!'
she choked breathlessly. 'Oh, Jamie, I'm sorry
I was late coming
to fetch you. I thought you were sure to
be lost.'
'I
never get lost,' he said reproachfully, but to her sur
prise he did hug her
quickly back and she fancied his lips trembled. It was obviously a long time
since anyone had shown him affection like this.
Then he was all grown
up again. Pushing himself out of her arms, he scowled as he touched her damp
cheek. 'You're wet, Thea. We'd better get home.'
Home sounded suddenly
so good that she laughed, her vivacious young face lighting up. 'I'm getting
used to being wet, Jamie/You haven't exactly the driest of climates in
Scotland;'
'Perhaps not,' he
sounded just like his father, 'but you look as though you've been in the burn.'
Casually he retained her hand, as if to make sure she didn't fall in
again.
'Well, there's no
bridge.'
'There is one, about
twenty yards further up the river. The loch often overflows, so it would be no
good putting a bridge right on the side of it, would it? Didn't you see it?'
Feeling distinctly
foolish, Thea muttered something about not having had time to look. She did
feel better when they came to the bridge and she found it consisted of only
three narrow planks, which, as a stranger, she felt she might be excused for
missing. 'I'll know the next time,' she smiled ruefully, trying to hide from
Jamie how cold and uncomfortable she was from her soaking.
Having hoped to avoid
Logan, she despaired on finding him waiting for them, having apparently drawn
his own conclusions from the crazily parked Land Rover as to what had happened.
He appeared startled,
however, when he saw Thea's bedraggled state. 'What on earth have you been
up to this time?' he snapped, ignoring his son.
Thea,
because she was cold and rather miserable, snapped
back, 'Is it my fault
that you don't build your bridges in the right places?'
'Thea fell in the
river and she was mad,' Jamie giggled.
'She
hugged me and I got wet, too. You should have seen
her!'
Logan
cast him a sharp glance. 'That's enough from you,
young
man. Miss Andrews should remember she's a house
keeper, not a court
jester.'
So
he hadn't forgotten her joke about the turnips? In a
gesture
of unconscious defiance she tossed her head. Un
fortunately
her hair was still damp and she only succeeded
in showering the floor with drops of
water.
Extreme
exasperation made a grim line of Logan's
mouth. 'For heaven's
sake, girl, were you completely sub
merged in the—er—river?'