entirely!' She went off, muttering under her breath, and Sandie
walked slowly into the dining-room. Jessica was seated at the table,
frowning over an article in the
Irish Times.
She gave Sandie a brief smile. 'Hello, there. You've been let off the
hook today.'
'So I hear.' Sandie pulled out a chair and sat down. 'Is—is Crispin
ill?'
His sister's smile widened. 'Not unless they classify hangovers as
diseases these days.'
'A hangover?' Sandie's eyes widened. 'But he didn't have that much
to drink at dinner.'
Jessica laughed. 'Who's talking about dinner?' she demanded. 'It was
what came after. Flynn challenged Cris to a quick snooker match. In
the end, it lasted half the night, and a lot of Black Bushmills, most
of which seems to have been swallowed by Cris, because Flynn's
fresh enough this morning.'
Sandie found her hands curling into involuntary fists in her lap. She
said slowly, 'I—see.'
And she did see, only too well. The lord and master of Killane had
chosen to intervene yet again, even though his interference was
unjustified and totally unnecessary.
How dared he? Sandie raged inwardly. Oh, God, how dared he?
She dismissed the fact that the last thing she'd wanted the previous
evening had been a visit from an amorous Crispin. She'd made her
decision about that, and been prepared to carry it through, however
awkward the consequences.
Flynn Killane had no right to assume that she was willing to go
along with Crispin's advances. His attitude was arrogant,
overbearing and insulting. She could handle things for herself.
It wasn't even as if he'd done it for the best possible motives—for
her protection. She knew quite well that it was simply and crudely to
put a spoke in her wheel.
'Is something wrong?' asked Jessica. 'You look a bit jaded too. I
hope you're not coming down with something. Magda has this
morbid fear of people with colds.'
Sandie forced a smile. 'No, I'm fine. I was just wondering what to do
with myself, after I've had my practice.'
'Well, you could always take Kelly for a walk.' Jessica indicated the
spaniel, who was sprawled asleep in a patch of sunlight near the
window. 'Magda bought him as an excuse to take exercise herself,
but you can guess how long that lasted,' she added, grinning. 'Each
time the wind changed she foresaw laryngitis. Anyway, if you're
going out, I'd go soon. This weather isn't going to last.'
'I must get some work done first,' said Sandie. 'After all, that's what
I'm here for.'
'Whatever you say,' Jessica said equably, and returned her attention
to her paper.
The practice session was hopeless, Sandie was forced to admit after
an hour and a half. She was just too angry and upset to make any
proper progress. She could not dismiss Flynn and his overbearing
behaviour from the forefront of her mind, try as she might, which
was infuriating in itself. Because the last thing she wanted or needed
was to think about that— boor.
She closed the lid of the piano with a muted slam, and rose. She
would simply have to do as Jessica suggested, and walk off her ill-
temper with Kelly.
The spaniel seemed delighted at the prospect of a walk. Sandie took
the leash she found hanging in the porch, but didn't attach it to the
dog's collar, as Kelly seemed perfectly happy to gambol along
beside her.
She turned inland, forsaking the road as soon as possible for short
springy turf and bracken, heading for the lower slopes of a tall hill
which just seemed to have missed being a mountain. The sun was
warm on her back, and the air smelled clean and fresh. She drank it
in by the ecstatic lungful.
Connemara had so much to offer, she thought, watching the
changing shadows on the sunlit slopes as fleecy clouds drifted
overhead. She had never seen so many shades of green in any
landscape, and the tops of the Twelve Pins were a misty indigo.
If it weren't for Flynn Killane, life would be perfect.
Well, not completely, she was forced to acknowledge on reflection.
There was still the existence of Crispin's marriage to take into
account. She was vaguely troubled by the fact that he'd made no
move to dissolve the marriage himself. Surely if Francesca had
walked out on him two years previously he was legally entitled to
do so, instead of waiting for her to make the first move.
Unless Irish law was different. But Crispin wasn't Irish, so probably
it didn't apply to him anyway.
She shook her head, feeling totally confused. There was no reason
for her to be considering this anyway. It wasn't as if Crispin had
asked her to marry him. In fact she wasn't sure whether she was
included in his long-term plans at all. Perhaps all he had in mind
was a summer of sex at Killane, and then goodbye.
What she had to decide was, if that was all that was on offer, would
it be enough?
She shivered slightly, looking round for Kelly, suddenly aware that
the scudding clouds from the west weren't quite so beguilingly
fleecy any more, but greying and solidly packed. She called the
dog's name and whistled, but there was no responding bark. Clearly
Kelly had taken advantage of her abstraction to go on some
exploration of his own, and was not to be distracted.
Oh, hell, Sandie thought, casting an apprehensive glance at the sky.
She stood still, staring round her for betraying signs of movement. A
few isolated sheep and cattle were grazing, completely untroubled,
so Kelly couldn't be in their vicinity.
Where's he gone? she groaned inwardly. I should have kept him on
the lead, I suppose, but he seemed so well behaved. I'll have to find
him.
She unslung the sweater she was wearing round her shoulders and
put it on, although it would be little enough protection against the
rain which was threatening with every minute.
Sandie couldn't believe conditions could change so quickly—or a
spaniel vanish apparently off the face of the earth. He must have
found some damned rabbit hole, she thought crossly. I hope he
hasn't, got stuck.
She walked on slowly, calling and whistling until she was nearly
hoarse. She was getting really worried now. Kelly wasn't just an
agreeable companion, he was a valuable dog, and she had lost him.
I'm going to be
persona non grata
with every member of the
household at this rate, she thought forlornly, as the first cold spatter
of raindrops hit her.
She could see the end of an enormous pipe, clearly used for
drainage, protruding from the ground, and she made her way
towards it. She called 'Kelly!' again, and wondered if she had really
heard the echo of a faint bark from somewhere deep in the pipe's
interior or whether she was just imagining it. She looked inside the
pipe, her mind quailing at the prospect of crawling along it, even a
little way.
Oh, Kelly, she wailed silently, please come back!
It was raining more heavily than ever. The wind had risen, and
seemed to be driving the water at her almost horizontally. Within
minutes she was soaked. She turned and began to run with a certain
amount of care back towards the road, head bent miserably, her
soaked trainers squelching. After all, the last thing she wanted at this
stage was to slip, and maybe sprain her ankle.
Feeling more wretched by the moment, she gained the tarmac and
began to jog through the puddles, heading back towards Killane.
She'd gone about half a mile when she heard the sound of a car
engine coming up behind her, and stepped to the side of the road,
her hand raised to beg a lift. Please stop! she implored silently.
To her relief the estate car was already slowing. It halted beside her,
and the passenger door swung open.
'Fancy meeting you here,' Flynn Killane said softly, his glance
deriding her bedraggled appearance.
Sandie could have jumped up and down screaming. She had the
most appalling luck, she thought dismally. Of all the people in the
world, why did he have to come along?
She was strongly tempted to slam the car door and continue
walking.
'Don't be a fool,' he said shortly, as if she'd spoken the thought
aloud. 'Now get in before you catch pneumonia.'
Seething, she obeyed, sitting bolt upright in the passenger seat and
staring defiantly ahead of her through the rivulets of water running
down the windscreen.
Flynn gave a faint sigh. 'Now listen to me,' he said. 'I can stand you
damp; I can stand you resentful, but the two combined are more than
flesh and blood can bear. Shall we declare a temporary truce for the
duration of this journey? After all, I didn't have to stop.'
She wanted to tell him stiffly to go to hell, when suddenly the sheer
ridiculousness of the situation struck her, and she felt a reluctant
giggle surfacing inside her. She suppressed it instantly.
She bit her lip. 'I suppose we'll have to.'
'I'm glad you haven't overwhelmed me with gratitude,' he said drily
as he put the car in gear. 'And as we're actually conversing, could
you tell me why you're clutching that dog lead, with no dog in
sight?'
'I took Kelly for a walk.' Her voice wobbled defensively. 'But he ran
off somewhere and I've been hunting ever since, but I can't find him
anywhere, and I've called and called.'..'
'Don't worry your head,' Flynn advised. 'The beast will be safe and
snug at Killane at this moment. He hates the rain, and the moment
he smells it, he makes for home.'
'I see,' Sandie said in a stifled voice. 'I wish someone had told me,'
'Well, we all know his little ways. I suppose it never occurred to
anyone to warn that you'd probably be coming home alone.' He
paused. 'While we're on the subject of being solitary, I hope
Crispin's failure to appear last night wasn't too grave a
disappointment for you.'
His voice was silky, and Sandie flung him a fulminating glance.
'Not in the slightest. I wasn't actually expecting him, and I have no
intention of having an affair with him.'
'Very commendable,' said Flynn. 'But did it occur to you that
Crispin's expectations and intentions might have been very different,
and that the choice might not have been yours?'
Sandie stared down at her fingers, interlaced together in her lap. 'I
certainly didn't think he'd be prepared to break my door down, no.'
'You locked yourself in?' The surprise in his voice needled her
afresh.
'Yes, I did,' she said tautly. 'I'm not the pushover you seem to think,
Mr Killane, and I do have my own ethical code, which does not
include having an affair with a married man, whether you believe
me or not.'
'You sound very rational and moral in the cold light of day,' Flynn
commented. 'Last night your decision didn't seem nearly so cut and
dried.'
'That still doesn't mean I needed you to make it for me,' she said
angrily. 'I could cope.' She paused. 'I suppose you think you've been
very clever.'
'I was quite impressed by my reading of Crispin's psychology, it's
true,' he said calmly. 'I reckoned the only factor which could take
precedence over this planned seduction would be the prospect of his
scoring a swift victory over me at snooker. He's never managed it
yet, and it maddens him beyond bearing. He's also under the illusion
that the more he drinks, the better he plays,' he added with a faint
shrug. 'I had to put him into his own bed at three this morning.'
'You, of course, remained stone cold sober.'
'I make no such claim. But I was in better shape than Crispin.' He
slanted a sidelong grin at her. 'I was half tempted to come and
seduce you myself.'
Sandie bit hard on her lip. 'If you want to maintain this truce I'd be
glad if you didn't make remarks like that,' she said, forcing her voice
to remain steady. 'I don't find them even remotely amusing.'
'What makes you think I was joking?' His tone was still light, but
there was a note in it which held danger signals.
The palms of Sandie's hands were suddenly damp. 'Because you
can't possibly be serious,' she returned. 'We don't even like each
other, Mr Killane. We've clashed at every opportunity since the first
moment we met.'
'And you don't think that bed might be the ideal place to reach some