The enchanted ring

by Lucy Gillen

  CHAPTER SIX

  ROWAN sometimes wondered if Rupert Brady really did have that mysterious fey the Gaelic races are supposed to possess, for he always seemed to know instinctively when anything untoward happened to her. It was not quite so surprising, therefore, the following morning when he again displayed his knowledge, however indirectly. Rowan was busy trimming and tidying the rose trees that bordered the lawn in the back garden when he walked out, and he stopped to watch her for a moment or two in silence as she snipped ruthlessly at dead flower heads and overgrown sideshoots with a pair of rather blunt secateurs. He laughed softly, his wild, dark eyes dancing wickedly. 'Do you imagine you've got Doran there at your mercy?' he asked, and Rowan smiled wryly at him. 'What makes you think that?' she asked. 'And what makes you think I feel murderous towards Mr. Doran?' 'Don't you?' he countered, and laughed when she pulled a face at him. 'You and Saint Francis had a disagreement with him yesterday, didn't you?' Rowan suspended the secateurs from one finger, eyeing him with little short of suspicion. 'Is there anything goes on around here that you don't know about?' she asked. Rupert shrugged his thin shoulders. 'Very little,' he conceded. 'What was it about this time?' Oh, nothing really.' She gave up any pretence of working and walked over to stand beside him on the 96 lawn. 'As I expect you know, I drove over to Murphy's with Sean yesterday afternoon and we saw Michael Doran when we were on our way back here. Phelan, that big grey he 'rides, had stumbled and pulled a tendon or something and Sean stopped to look at him.' 'Voluntarily?' Rupert's black brows disappeared into his hair. 'Not at first,' Rowan admitted, seeing no point in denying it, especially to Rupert. 'Anyway, while Sean was busy with Phelan ' 'Doran made the most of his chances,' Rupert guessed with a broad, malicious grin. 'I can imagine.' "He came over and talked to me,' Rowan admitted, and smiled ruefully at the memory of it. 'Of course we argued we always do, and he was particularly personal in his remarks this time, so of course I took ex-ception.' "Of course,' Rupert acknowledged with a chuckle. 'He really is insufferable!' Rowan declared. 'And then Sean refused to take his fee and that set the two of them off arguing.' She sighed deeply, swinging the secateurs from her finger. 'He was just being stubborn, of course, Sean I mean, but it seems that everyone in Ireland has a very low flashpoint.' 'Oh, not only the Irish, exquisite soul,' Rupert chided gently, and Rowan smiled admittance. 'You're right,' she said, 'but it doesn't make life any easier.' 'Life's never easy, my lovely,' Rupert told her, 'but it doesn't have to be the dirge some people make of it.' He put out a hand and gently touched the softness of her hair where it wisped against her face. 'You've made a vast difference to my life, lovely Rowan. I've enjoyed knowing you.' 'I've enjoyed knowing you too,' Rowan smiled, 'though I don't know why we're talking in the past 97 tense. I still enjoy knowing you, Rupert.' The dark eyes looked at her for a moment with unfamiliar solemnity, his fingers still gently lifting the soft tendrils from her cheek. 'Bless you, my lovely,' he said softly, then dismissed the solemn moment with a laugh and a shake of his great head. 'Come walk with me in meadows green,' he invited, and held out a hand to her, but Rowan shook her head, regretfully she had to admit. 'I mustn't, Rupert. I'd love to, but I've done nothing for a couple of days now and I must do something to earn my keep.' She could, she supposed, have worded it a little more tactfully, but it was doubtful if Rupert would take offence. 'My loss,' he mourned in his beautiful voice. 'Farewell, sweet creature, remember me in joy.' He raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm gently, a gesture so uncharacteristic of him that Rowan looked startled for a moment and he shook his head, as if he regretted something, though she could not guess what. It was an odd way to speak, she thought, and felt uneasy for a moment, then smiled when he turned half way across the lawn and waved a hand. 'Goodbye, . Rupert.' It was a moment or two before she returned to her pruning, her expression absent. She sometimes found Rupert's knack of knowing things and his way of wording things rather disturbing, but she liked him enormously and she could not see why Sean should take such exception to him being there. No one took a scrap of notice when Rupert did not appear at lunch time, since he so seldom did. His presence was more cause for comment than his absence. Sean was still a bit stand-offish, as Rowan termed it, but she realised that his dislike of Michael Doran went far deeper than she had realised and he hated her 98 talking to the other man at all. Also he was still smarting from Michael's arrogant treatment of him yesterday and she wondered if he would refuse to send him a bill for his services as he had said he would. 'I thought I might go for a walk after lunch, if it's O.K. with you,' Rowan told Laura, and Laura nodded, smiling. 'By all means. Rowan dear, you've worked very hard this morning and you must make the most of the weather, I shall be really proud of my garden when you've finished with it. I'm afraid I've neglected it shamefully since Charles died.' 'It must have been a lovely garden then,' Rowan guessed. 'Oh, it was! Charles was very fond of his garden, but somehow after he'd gone I don't know, I just hadn't the heart for it.' 'I'll soon have it right again for you,' Rowan assured her. 'I love gardening.' 'You love walking too,' Laura teased. 'You're a real outdoor girl, aren't you?' 'Perhaps because I've spent so much of my life in towns,' Rowan said. 'I'm making the most of it now.' Rowan was just leaving the house when Sean came out of the room he used as a surgery, and a small frown flicked between his brows when he remembered her intention of going for a walk. He came across to her, a look in his eyes that could have been curiosity or the beginnings of temper, she was unsure which. 'Where are you thinking of going?' he asked, and Rowan shrugged. 'I don't know,' she admitted, 'I hadn't really thought about it.-Why?' 'I just wondered.' 'Oh well, I had thought of going as far as the river and back, nothing too strenuous.' 99 'Doran's land,' Sean said bitterly, and Rowan frowned. 'It would be rather difficult not to go on his territory, wherever I went,' she told him with a hint of impatience. Sean looked almost sulky as he kicked the edge of a rug, his hands in his pockets. 'And you'll probably run into Doran again,' he declared. 'Probably I will,' Rowan agreed quietly. 'I do my best to avoid him, but I'm not always successful.' 'Sometimes I wonder.' Rowan looked up sharply, her eyes showing dislike for his behaviour. The good-looking face was sulky and rather petulant, the blue eyes downcast as if he already regretted his remark. 'And what exactly is that supposed to mean?' she asked, a pink flush tinging her cheeks as she followed his meaning only too well. He raised his eyes then and she saw anger and suspicion in them as well as defiance for her opinion. 'I sometimes wonder if you do try to avoid him as you say,' he told her. 'He seems so damned sure of himself when he's talking to you, and I know he's supposed to have some' sort of attraction for women.' 'Well, not for me,' Rowan declared firmly. 'And you have no right to suggest such a thing, Sean.' 'You don't find him attractive?' Why was it so difficult. Rowan wondered, to answer that truthfully and not give Sean yet more grounds for suspicion? ' I can see that he could be attractive to some women,' she told him, choosing her words very carefully. ' 'But not to you?' 'Not really, no.' He eyed her for a moment. 'You don't sound very sure.' ' . Rowan shook her head, her eyes sparkling anger at 100 the way he was questioning her. 'I'm very sure I object to being interrogated like this,' she told him, 'and I don't intend stopping to hear any more.' 'Oh, Rowan, I'm sorry!' He stepped in front of her to prevent her leaving and took both her hands in his, holding them close against his chest so that she could feel the strong, slightly erratic beat of his heart. 'I'm jealous,' he confessed ruefully. After a moment she smiled. "You have no need to be,' she said softly, and smiled when he raised her hands to his lips and kissed their palms. 'I can't help it, I love you.' It was not the moment, she thought, to have to decide what her own feelings were, but Sean obviously expected her to make some response, so she smiled and shook her head slowly. 'The Irish are reputed to be cautious in matters of the heart,' she told him lightly. 'You're much too impulsive, Sean.' 'I'm not impulsive,' Sean retorted, unexpectedly sharp, 'I just know my own mind.' Rowan pulled a wry face. 'I'm afraid I don't,' she admitted. 'Not yet, Sean, I
need more time to decide.' 'You think I'm rushing you?' he asked., 'Yes perhaps. It's not very long, is it? And it's rather a big thing to decide in a hurry.' 'I suppose I haven't given you much time,' he allowed. 'I didn't need time to think, you see. I knew I loved you the minute you stepped off that bus with Mary. I thought you were the loveliest girl I'd ever seen, and from then on I've got more and more crazy about you.' 'Love at first sight?' Rowan teased gently. 'Is it possible, Sean?' 'It is,' he vowed, and put his arms round her so tightly she protested. 'I love you, Rowan.' 'Sean ' The rest of her protest was cut short when 101 he kissed her with a fierce possessiveness that set her heart hammering in protest against her ribs. It was Mary Donovan, passing between the kitchen and the sitting-room, who brought them back to earth and Rowan took advantage of the interruption to move out of reach, well aware of the approving smile on the little woman's face when she saw them. 'You mustn't keep your patients waiting, Sean,' Rowan reminded him a little breathlessly, and he flicked a brief, impatient glance over his shoulder at the surgery door. 'I suppose there is somebody in there by now,' he said, then took her hands in his again. 'Promise me you'll think about it. Rowan, about us, I mean. I really do want to marry you.' 'I'll think about it very seriously,' Rowan promised. 'And you won't let Doran influence you?' 'Mr. Doran?' She looked puzzled. 'He'll try,' Sean said with conviction. 'I know him, Rowan, he'll take you away from me if he can, but I'll see him in hell first. He took Thornhill from me he's not having you as well ' 'Sean ' She looked at him for a moment, scarcely believing her eyes or her ears. His face, in that brief moment, had been twisted into sheer hatred and he sounded more as if he was laying claim to her as a property than a lover. It was a revelation she would rather not have witnessed and it made her feel horribly uneasy. 'I'm I'm sorry.' He shook his head, looking down at his feet as if he was too ashamed of his outburst even to face her. Rowan looked at him for a moment, then smiled and put out a hand to touch his face gently. 'Don't be, Sean, I think I understand.' She tiptoed and kissed him beside his mouth. 'Now you'd better go to your surgery ' ioa and I'll go for my walk. I'll see you at dinner.' He merely nodded in answer and, after a moment or two, went off across the hall and through the door into his rooms, while Rowan walked slowly to the door, her legs feeling oddly weak and trembly as she went. She went, as she had intended, down to the river and as she walked down the hill she caught a glimpse of McConnell. He did no more than turn his sharp eyes on her for a brief moment, but the sight of the shotgun still tucked firmly under one arm gave her a momentary flick of panic. She breathed a sigh of relief when he strode off out of sight behind the hill, despite the fact that she knew he would not use the gun against her or even order her off, though she suspected he would have liked to. She walked along the bank of the river, almost without realising that she was going in the direction of Tomaltach, Michael Doran's home. She enjoyed the feel of the warm sun on her back and the swish of the soft, lush grass under her feet. The only time she had been this far along before today was when Michael Doran had carried her after her ducking in the river, and she stopped when the great stone bulk of the house came into view among its surrounding trees. She hesitated to go further in case she should accidentally meet the owner and, with Sean's discomfiting words in her mind still, she wondered at her own de-cision to come this far. It was not, she told herself firmly, for any other reason than that she liked the walk along the river, but just the same she could not rid herself of Sean's accusation that she did not always try to avoid meeting Michael Doran. There were little clumps of trees below what must once have been a garden and she thought how quiet and peaceful it looked on this warm summer day. Cool too, with the shading trees and the slow, lazy flow of 103 the river. It was very inviting but much too close to the house for comfort, so that she, reluctantly, turned away. It was as she turned that something caught her eye among the trees along the bank, half hidden by the lowhanging branches that dipped almost to the water. She thought at first that he was only sleeping there, and then something about the position of the figure struck her as wrong and she put a hand to her mouth. 'Rupert!' She managed to gain control of her shaking knees at last and ran down the bank to the water, brushing aside the concealing branches as she went. He lay stretched out with his body in the water and his great black head on the bank, and for that at least Rowan heaved a sigh of relief. .'Rupert!' She lifted his head and felt among the thick black hair for a pulse in his neck. 'Thank God!' It fluttered feebly under her fingers and she set about pulling him from the water. He was not a big man, but she found it hard work to move him and she was breathing heavily by the time he lay on the grassy bank at her feet. She looked around desperately for something to cover him with, but there was nothing, and she wore -nothing that would have served any purpose as a blanket. The house, Tomaltach, loomed behind her through the trees and she climbed the bank hurriedly. That was the only and obvious source of help. She pushed her way through the overhang and ran as fast as she could up the sloping, overgrown garden to the house. Remembering Michael Doran's method of entrance, she was tempted to put a foot to the huge solid door and kick it open as he had done, but instead she rapped hard and insistently on it and waited impatiently for someone to come. No one did, and she was about to repeat her assault on the door when she 104 saw Michael-, Doran walking along on the far side of the garden. She turned hastily, trying to catch him before he disappeared round the house, but quick as she was, his long stride took him away from her much faster and she despaired of catching him. , 'Michael!' She called out to him in desperation and he turned at once so that she could see the surprised arch of his brows even at that distance. He did not move towards her, but waited for her to join him, standing on the overgrown drive with his feet apart and his hands tucked casually into the front pockets of his riding breeches, a glint of rather malicious humour in his eyes. 'I'm honoured,' he told her when she came up to him, breathing heavily, her eyes wide and appealing and something in her manner that told him all was not well. 'Rowan ' Strong hands clasped hers and felt their trembling. 'What on earth's wrong?' 'It's it's Rupert,' she whispered breathlessly. 'Down on the river bank. Oh, please come quickly!' He did not hesitate, and she thanked heaven for it, but strode ahead of her down towards where she had left Rupert. 'If he's had an accident,' he called over one shoulder as he went, 'you'd better get to the house and ring for an ambulance. Just go straight in, the phone's in the hall.' He was almost out of earshot by then and Rowan wasted no time in doing as he said. She did not hesitate before the big door this time, but pushed it open and walked into the vast hall she remembered from her previous visit. She looked around for the telephone and had just located it when the elderly woman Michael Doran had called Bridie came out from one of the rooms and looked vaguely startled to see her there. 105 'I have to use the phone to call an ambulance,' Rowan explained. 'Mr. Doran said to come here.' 'An ambilance?' The round, homely face looked shocked. 'What in the name a God's happened?' 'An accident,' Rowan said briefly as she dialled. 'Not himself?' the woman gasped, putting her hands to her mouth, and Rowan shook her head. 'No, a a friend of mine.' 'Aah, God help us,' the woman breathed piously, 'it'll be McConnell an' dat wicked gun'f his, I know.' Rowan dealt with the call before giving consideration to the suggestion, then she frowned over it. ' I don't think so,' she said, but uncertainly. She had seen no sign of injury when she looked at Rupert, but the idea worried her. 'I'll go and see how he is,' she told the pessimistic Bridie. 'Will you send the men down to the river when they arrive, Mrs. er Bridie?' 'That I will,' Bridie agreed, 'an' I hope the poor man's not shot. God help'm.' She crossed herself piously, and Rowan could only echo her hope as she went down the neglected garden to the river. Michael Doran looked up as she approached and she noticed that Rupert was covered with his jacket, the garment almost completely covering Rupert's slight body. He was still unconscious and Rowan knelt beside him anxiously. 'Is he ill?' Michael asked. 'I mean has he a recurring illness? That's the only reason I can think of for his passing
out like that and staying unconscious. There's no kind of injury on him that I can find.' So he too had thought of McConnell's gun, she thought, and shook her head slowly. 'I don't really know. I think there is something wrong, but only Laura knew it seems to have been a secret as far as everyone else was concerned.' 'Hmm.' Something was obviously giving him food 106 for thought and he was silent for a moment. 'Was this how you found him?' he asked at last as Rowan raised her eyes, and she shook her head. 'No. He he was in the water, at least most of him was, although his head was clear, thank goodness.' The grey eyes regarded her tor a moment. 'And you pulled him out?' 'It it wasn't too difficult,' Rowan said, feeling a flush of warmth in her cheeks as she met his eyes. 'He's very slightly built.' 'Just the same, you're a spunky little devil,' he told her, and half smiled, his face creasing into the myriad small lines that were becoming quite familiar to her. 'I didn't know what else to do,' she confessed. 'I feel so helpless because I can't help him.' She was, she realised, very near to tears from the reaction of finding Rupert like that and she bit her lower lip determinedly. 'You did all you could,' he consoled her. 'There was nothing else you could do without help.' "That's why why I came to the house.' 'I'm glad you had the sense to,' he told her. 'Well, we've done everything we can do for him, as much as we dare do without knowing what we're dealing with. It's a job for the experts now.' Rowan put a hand protectively on Rupert's dark head and looked down at him rather than at the mans who now towered above her as he straightened up. 'Thank you,' she said quietly. 'Thank you for helping, Mr. Doran. I know I know you and Rupert didn't see eye to eye, but thank you.' 'What else did you expect me to do?' he asked, and Rowan was silent for a moment. 'Rowan? What did you expect of me? That I'd tell you to take care of Brady yourself and not to bother me?' 'No, no, of course not!' 'Of course not,' he echoed. 'You couldn't have 107 thought me as black as Maxwell paints me,' he told her softly, 'or you wouldn't have come to me as you did.' There was something so nerve-tinglingly intimate about the way he said it that she felt her cheeks warm with a flush that seemed to flow over her whole body and made her fingers tremble as she stroked back the thick hair from Rupert's forehead. 'It it was instinctive,' she managed at last. 'I had to have help and you you were there.' The grey eyes looked down at her, half amused, half ironic. 'You also called me Michael,' he told her softly. 'Was that instinctive too?' 'I ' She looked up swiftly, ready to deny it, then recalled her anxious cry to him as he strode away from her round the house. 'I'm sorry,' she said instead, trying to still the loud insistent beat of her heart against her ribs. 'I was anxious about Rupert.' 'And do I have to wait until you're anxious about someone else before you use my name again?' he asked and, despite her desire to look away. Rowan found her gaze held and felt a chill trickle of something that could have been warning shiver along her spine. 'Please,' she begged. 'Don't don't tease me, not now.' Surprisingly he nodded and put down a hand to pull her to her feet again. "I won't tease you. Rowan, but you don't have to worry about Brady, you know, he'll soon be in good hands.' "I know.' She looked down at Rupert's dark, almost hidden face, the familiar wild eyes now lost behind dosed lids, and once again felt like crying. 'It's taking them so long to get here,' she complained, looking round for a sign of the summoned ambulance. 'It will take a long time,' he told her quietly. "It has to come from Gallyborn, you know, and then negotiate the bridle path after it gets here.' It seemed like an eternity of waiting to Rowan and 108 she longed to do something constructive, something to help Rupert, but she could only kneel again beside him, touching his slow, feeble pulse to reassure herself. 'Oh, Michael, why don't they come?' she cried despairingly as the pulse fluttered weakly under her fingers. They're coming.' He cocked an ear cautiously. 'I'm pretty sure I can hear it now. Yes, it is.' He reached down and took her hands, pulling her to her feet. 'You'd better come to the house and have a stiff drink,' he told her as the ambulance drew up at the front door of the house and a signalling hand brought the men hurrying down to the river bank. 'But I should go with him,' she protested. 'No, you shouldn't,' he argued quietly but insistently. 'You can't do any more for him, Rowan, and you'll only upset yourself. Come and have a drink and then I'll run you home and you can let Laura O'Neil know what's happened.' Rowan looked at him wide-eyed, amazed to find that she had completely forgotten that someone would have to let Laura know about Rupert. 'I'd forgotten,' she confessed. 'I must let Laura know, of course, she's very fond of Rupert.' 'So are you,' he smiled as the ambulance doors were closed and the vehicle set off back towards the bridle path and the only access to the house from the road. 'Not in in the usual way,' she denied, almost automatically. 'Whatever that is,' he said, taking her arm and more or less obliging her to walk up the step to the front door. 'You can have that drink now and then I'll run you home.' It crossed her mind briefly that Sean would be furious if she arrived home in company with Michael Doran, but at the moment she was more concerned with Rupert and of breaking the news to Laura. She could 109 deal with Sean and his jealousy if and when the necessity arose. At the moment Rupert was uppermost in her mind and she was glad of anyone's help even Michael Doran's. He led her into the same big, book-lined room she had been in before and sat her down in one of the same huge armchairs that threatened to envelop her. 'Mountain dew, I think,' he said, producing a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet under the window. 'And don't look so dubious. Rowan, I'm only trying to treat you for shock in the best way I know.' 'I know,' said Rowan. 'And I'm grateful, Mr. Doran, really I am, it's just that I'm worried about letting Laura know.' He cocked an eyebrow at her when he handed her a tumbler a good quarter full and undiluted. 'There's no need to worry about it,' he told her, 'but if you'd like me to I can tell her.' 'Would you?' She looked at the whiskey doubtfully. T I don't think I'd better drink this neat,' she told him. 'I haven't much of a head for spirits and there's rather a lot here.' 'Can't hold your liquor, eh?' He took the tumbler from her and poured about as much water into it as there was whiskey. 'There you are, that shouldn't make you tipsy.' He eyed her for a moment as he poured himself one, and smiled when she lowered her eyes. 'You still suspect the worst, don't you. Rowan?' 'I don't know why you should say that.' 'No?' The grey eyes surveyed her over the rim of his glass and she felt the pulse in her temple start a fast, unsteady beat that she felt sure must be visible. 'No. I'm grateful for the drink, but I'm not used to spirit and I'd rather have whiskey well diluted, that's all.' 'Well, it is well diluted, so drink it up,' he no encouraged. The silence between them as she swallowed her drink was almost unbearable and she wished she ,-ould better control that betraying throb of pulse as he watched her. " I must go now,' she said at last, putting the half empty glass down on a table beside her. 'You haven't finished your drink.' 'I can't manage any more.' She clasped her hands together in her lap, not knowing where to look to avoid his gaze. 'I wish you'd stop watching me like that!' she exclaimed at last, unable to bear any more. He sighed, making no move to leave his chair and escort her home as he had promised. 'I refuse to say I'm sorry about anything else,' he declared. 'I like looking at you, as any sane man would, and if you choose to take it as an insult then you're less of a woman than I took you for.' That swift, insolent look of appraisal swept over her as it had done before and he laughed softly. 'And I can't be wrong about that,' he added. Rowan got to her feet, her face flushed and bright with something beside anger or the effects of the whiskey. 'I'm going,' she told him. 'And you needn't bother to see me home, Mr. Doran, I can manage on my own, thank you.' 'You can't and you won't,' he told her bluntly, putting down his empty glass and getting to his feet. 'I'm running you back in the car whether you like it or not, so stop being such a pig-headed little devil and come . along.' 'I'm not ' Rowan began, but he took her by one arm and walked her to the door so fast that she had to run to keep up with him. "You and Maxwell have one thing in common at least,' he told her as he hurried her through the hall followed by the speculative gaze of Bridie. 'You're 111 both too pig-headed for your own good. Maxwell's beyond redemption,
but there's maybe something I can do about you before it's too late.' 'Mr. Doran, I ' 'Michael!' he snapped at her, and shook her by the arm he held. 'You've started, now you can carry on calling me Michael, understood?' 'I ' 'Understood?' he insisted, shaking her again, and Rowan pulled her arm away, stopping determinedly on the top of the step down to the drive, her eyes blazing at him angrily, her hands clenched by her side. 'No, it is not understood!' she cried angrily. He stood on a lower level than she did, down on the wide, gravelly driveway, his hands on his hips, his mouth set tight and obstinate and a glitter of something in his eyes that sent that cold shiver trickling along her spine again. 'I'm taking you home and I'm breaking the news to Laura for you, remember?' he reminded her. Rowan did remember, rather shamefaced for having forgotten in her temper how he had offered to help her. 'Yes, thank you.' 'Come on, then,' he told her, leading the way round the house to a rather dilapidated outhouse where he kept his car. She climbed in beside him obediently, still rankling over his treatment of her. 'O.K.?' An arched brow questioned her and she nodded silently. They were almost home when she spoke again and then only rather hesitantly. 'I'm grateful for everything you've done Mr. Doran,' she ventured. 'I do appreciate it even if ' 'Even if you do suspect my motives,' he finished for her with a brief grin over one shoulder. 'You're putting words into my mouth,' she objected. T am grateful and well, I'm sorry I lost my temper.' - His deep, quiet laugh both surprised and disturbed her. 'I'm not,' he told her. 'Not sorry you lost your temper, I mean,' he added. 'You're even more beautiful "when you're spitting fire, and it's better than weeping, (isn't it?' She did not answer, but tried to do something about ;the wild erratic beating of her heart again as they drew ;up in front of Laura O'Neil's house. It did not seem possible that she could have recovered sufficiently from :her shock at finding Rupert to feel capable of telling Laura about it herself without bursting into tears. She could, she supposed, have told him that she did not need his help now, that she could handle the situation herself, but instead she allowed him to help her from the car and walked with him up the short drive to the front door. He turned as he waited for her to open the door and the grey eyes smiled at her, almost as if he knew that arguing with him had helped lift her spirits and kept her from crying over Rupert, and, without quite knowing why, she met his eyes for a moment. 'Thank you, Michael,' she said. ii3