by Anne Mather
Olivia could feel the tiny hairs on the back of her neck rising in angry protest at this deliberate provocation, and Francis looked as if he was controlling his feelings with difficulty.
‘What a surprise to see you back here again, Gantry,’ he said caustically. ‘You’ve been away for such a long time, we all thought you were dead.’
‘And how much easier it would have been for all of you if I was,’ remarked Alex without aggravation. ‘But then I’d never have met this charming stepmother of mine, and that would have been a shame!’
‘Alex, please—’ Olivia’s entreating whisper fell on deaf ears, as he sauntered round the desk to where she was standing her hands clenched stiffly at her sides.
‘Good morning, Liv,’ he greeted her sardonically, and while she stood there in frozen immobility, he bent towards her and deposited an insolent kiss on the vulnerable parting of her lips.
CHAPTER FOUR
FRANCIS, watching them, looked thunderstruck, and Olivia wondered with a pang whether he imagined she and Alex had planned this whole affair. It was not an unreasonable supposition. Stranger things had happened in the pursuit of wealth, and he could easily be forgiven for speculating which of the Gantry’s she had known first: the father, or the son.
But he couldn’t think that, he mustn’t think that, she thought in horror, and her hand itched to wipe the derisive expression from Alex’s mocking face. He was contemptible, she thought disgustedly, evil; a devil, who had every intention of robbing her of any self-respect.
With a moan of distaste she recoiled from him, and his lips barely brushed hers. But the damage was done, and although she pushed him away from her, the way he rocked back on his heels seemed to imply an inconsistency common to females.
‘Don’t do that!’ she hissed, her eyes sparkling with green fire, but Alex was unashamed.
‘I couldn’t resist it,’ he responded, turning to Francis and spreading his hands. ‘Women!’ he added infuriatingly. ‘They’re so damned unpredictable!’
‘Francis—’ Olivia stepped forward, needing to reestablish her contact with the other man. ‘We—er—we obviously can’t continue our discussions now. I wonder if we could meet later.’
‘Why don’t you invite him for dinner?’ Alex suggested blandly, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants. ‘I’m sure Mrs Winters will be happy to have guests in the house again. There can’t have been much for her to do lately.’
‘Will you be quiet?’ Olivia did not try to hide her frustration now, and she could feel a pulse racing in her temples as she fought to keep control of the situation.
‘I’ll be out myself,’ Alex went on unconcernedly. ‘I’ve got one or two friends I want to look up, and I just thought—’
‘Do you have any friends, Gantry?’ Francis’ nostrils flared. ‘I don’t know of any.’
‘Oh, I imagine I have as many as you do, Kennedy,’ Alex countered pleasantly. ‘And at least I know who mine are.’
‘Francis!’ Olivia was getting desperate. ‘About tonight—’
‘I’m afraid I can’t.’ Francis spoke stiffly, and she couldn’t tell from his expression what was going on in his mind.
‘Are you sure?’ she persisted, imploring him with her eyes, and as if taking pity on her, he offered an explanation.
‘It’s a dinner, I’m obliged to attend,’ he told her quietly. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t get out of it.’
‘Now isn’t that a shame!’ Alex was almost insolent, perching on the edge of the desk, his long legs splayed in front of him. ‘It looks like I’ll have to abandon my plans and keep you company, Liv.’
‘Don’t bother!’ She almost spat the words at him, and as if deciding that there was nothing to be gained by hanging on here, Francis moved towards the door.
‘I’ve got to go, Mrs Gantry,’ he said, checking his tie in a revealingly nervous gesture. ‘I suggest you give me a ring at the office. We can make some other arrangement.’
‘Yes. Yes, all right, I’ll do that.’ Olivia nodded her head jerkily. ‘I’m sorry about this, Francis.’
‘Don’t worry about it—’
‘No, don’t worry about it,’ seconded Alex provokingly. ‘You don’t have to apologise, Liv. Henry never apologised for anything.’
‘Will you shut up?’
Olivia’s nerves were stretched to screaming pitch, and she was trembling so badly she had real misgivings about trusting her legs at all. But she had to get away from Alex Gantry’s taunting voice, and when Francis pulled the door wide she hurried after him, tucking her hand through his sleeve as they ascended the steps to the upper hall.
‘I’ll see you later in the week then,’ she ventured, as they walked towards the outer door, but Murdoch appeared, to hand Francis his overcoat, and any private conversation they might have had was abruptly curtailed.
‘Yes, later in the week,’ he agreed, sliding his arms into the coat the butler was holding. Then, as if in reassurance, he added: ‘Be careful, Mrs Gantry. I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘Nor do I, Francis,’ murmured Olivia ruefully, and relinquished the hand he had offered reluctantly, as if abandoning a lifeline.
‘The representative of the car hire firm arrived a few minutes ago, to take possession of Master Alex’s vehicle,’ Murdoch informed her as he closed the door. ‘I gave him the keys, as you instructed.’
‘As I instructed?’ echoed Olivia blankly, and then saw Alex watching them at the foot of the staircase she had just mounted. His sardonic expression invited her to challenge him, but remembering how skilfully he could confound her, she merely made a sign of assent and turned towards the upper staircase.
‘Hey—wait!’ he called then, taking the steps two at a time, and because Murdoch was still within earshot Olivia had to obey, or risk the kind of gossip she most wanted to avoid.
‘What do you want?’ she demanded, her tone as icy as her face, and he halted in front of her, his dark eyes assessing.
‘Is this any way to treat a guest?’ he protested, adopting a wounded expression. ‘The least you can do is join me for breakfast.’
‘I’ve had breakfast,’ pointed out Olivia shortly, but Alex only shrugged.
‘I haven’t,’ he responded. ‘And you didn’t eat much. I guess that creep Kennedy ruined your appetite.’
‘If anyone ruined my appetite, it was you,’ Olivia snapped angrily. ‘How dare you behave as if you owned me! I don’t know what Francis thought, but I can imagine, and I may have the greatest difficulty in persuading him otherwise.’
‘Why try?’ Alex surveyed her insolently. ‘Is his good opinion so important to you?’
‘His opinion is important because he happens to care what happens to me,’ she retorted coldly.
‘I’ll bet he does.’ Alex was laconic. ‘You’re a very powerful lady, and he’s not likely to forget it.’
‘That’s not what I meant!’ Olivia was incensed.
‘Okay.’ Alex raised a conciliatory hand. We’ll agree to disagree, shall we? How about some breakfast?’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘A walk, then.’
‘A walk?’ Olivia stared at him incredulously. ‘Do you honestly think I’d go for a walk with you?’
‘I think you might,’ he conceded, tucking his hands into the hip pockets of his pants. ‘I mean—you don’t want to create the wrong impression, do you? Not if I’m staying here. We’re—stepmother and stepson; we’re related; and unless you plan to throw me out, you’d better get used to the fact.’
Olivia felt a quiver of distaste sweep over her at his words. But she could not deny their veracity. Unless she wanted to make an enemy of him, she had to play the game his way, at least until she had spoken to Francis again.
‘I think you’re despicable,’ she said now, wrapping her arms about herself protectively. ‘And I want you to know, if you ever try anything like you tried last night again, I will scream, and be damned to you!’
‘Okay
.’ Alex took the admonition indifferently. ‘So get your coat. I think we could both use some fresh air.’
Olivia stared at him helplessly. His arrogance was unbelievable! Did he really expect her to walk with him after this?
‘You’d better put on some rubber boots,’ he added over his shoulder, as he mounted the stairs to the upper floor. ‘As I recall it, the ground beside the river is pretty marshy, and after last night’s rain, it will probably be quite muddy.’
Olivia expelled her breath on an aggravated sigh. She would not go walking with him, she thought, she would not! But then the prospect of spending the next hour or so wondering what she was going to do overrode her objections, and tugging angrily at an unruly tendril of hair, she unwillingly climbed the stairs after him.
Mary was in her room, tidying the bed she had occupied so briefly the night before. She looked round expectantly as Olivia came into the room, and her expression revealed she knew what had happened.
‘Fancy,’ she exclaimed, ‘Mr Gantry’s son turning up like that out of the blue! You could have knocked me down with a feather. And his father scarcely cold in his grave, too, if you’ll pardon the expression.’
Olivia acknowledged the girl’s excited chatter with a wry grimace. But she made no response, crossing the bedroom to her dressing room and rummaging about in the bottom of the closet for the rubber wellingtons she had worn when she and Henry had paid a visit to the site of a new factory.
‘Can I help you, Mrs Gantry?’
Mary’s questioning face appeared in the doorway, and Olivia, finding what she had been looking for, got to her feet. ‘It’s all right, Mary,’ she said, waving the boots in the air. ‘I only wanted these. I—er—I’m going for a walk, and I believe the grass is muddy.’
Mary glanced towards the windows, observing the watery sunshine with some misgivings. ‘It isn’t much of a day for walking, Mrs Gantry,’ she remarked, pressing her lips together half impatiently when Olivia refused her offer of assistance. ‘You want to wrap up warm now. Mrs Winters said you looked peaky, and I agree with her.’
Olivia sighed. ‘I’m perfectly all right, Mary. I—just slept rather badly, that’s all.’
‘Mr Murdoch said he saw the light on in the library, long after midnight,’ declared Mary doggedly. ‘You really ought to get your sleep, Mrs Gantry. We don’t want you looking all eyes and cheekbones, now that Master Alex is here.’
Olivia turned away, using the excuse of finding a coat to wear to avoid Mary’s searching stare. ‘I don’t think my appearance will make the slightest bit of difference, Mary,’ she replied, pulling out a warm pigskin jacket. ‘This will do, I think. Now, where are those sheepskin mittens?’
‘He’s very handsome, so I hear,’ Mary persisted, as she riffled through a drawer and came up with the errant mittens. ‘All brown and tanned with the sun, and streaky fair hair, just like Robert Redford.’
‘Oh, really, Mary!’ Olivia practically snatched the mittens from her and marched towards the door. ‘Alex Gantry is nothing like Robert Redford! So you can stop behaving as if he was some kind of film star.’
Mary shrugged, by no means abashed. ‘Well, he’s certainly brought a bit of excitement into your life, Mrs Gantry,’ she exclaimed. ‘I mean, who would have expected Mr Gantry’s son to come back after fifteen years!’ She grimaced. ‘And to find he has a stepmother younger than he is! That’s a turn-up for the book.’
‘I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t indulge in gossip about my relationship to—to Mr Gantry.’ Olivia told her stiffly, hovering by the door. ‘I realise his arrival must have aroused some speculation, but this is his home, after all, and—and it’s just unfortunate that he came too late to see his father.’
‘Of course, Mrs Gantry.’ Mary looked the soul of discretion, but Olivia knew better than to believe everything she said. The whole affair couldn’t be anything less than a nine days’ wonder among the members of the household staff, and she could only hope her patience was equal to theirs.
Alex was waiting for her downstairs, pacing restlessly about the hall, showing little interest in his father’s painting collection. He, too, was wearing boots over his dark slacks, but the jerkin he had adopted would provide scant protection against the weather.
Olivia hesitated, and then, reaching the foot of the stairs, she said shortly: ‘Don’t you have a warmer jacket? Or an overcoat? The temperature’s not much above freezing, and I don’t suppose you want to catch a chill.’
Alex lifted his shoulders carelessly. ‘I didn’t know you cared,’ he remarked mockingly, and then, as if feeling some remorse for her indignation, he added: ‘I don’t have a warmer jacket. We didn’t go in much for warm jackets in Gstango. But when I get to the shops, I’ll bear what you say in mind.’
Olivia sighed, and then, with an almost sixth sense of someone else’s presence, she glanced behind her. Mary was standing at the top of the stairs, her face alight with curiosity, which quickly turned to embarrassment when she met her mistress’s angry stare.
‘Did you want something, Mary?’ Olivia enquired pointedly, keeping her temper on a tight rein, and the other girl made an awkward gesture.
‘I—er—I was just coming downstairs, Mrs Gantry,’ she offered, as Alex turned appraising eyes in her direction. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sure. I didn’t mean to intrude.’
Olivia squeezed the sheepskin mittens between her fingers, and then, ignoring Alex’s evident amusement, she said: ‘Well, you can do something for me instead. Go into my husband—go into Mr Gantry’s room, and fetch down a sheepskin jacket. There are several there. Any one will do. And hurry.’
‘Yes, Mrs Gantry.’
Mary’s hesitation was hardly perceptible, but after she had gone, Alex surveyed Olivia wryly. ‘So I’m to put on my father’s jacket, am I? Aren’t you afraid I might find it fits?’
The double entendre was unmistakable, but Olivia refused to be disconcerted. ‘Would that be so unusual?’ she suggested. ‘If it did? You are your father’s son, aren’t you? Apart from the fact that you’re a little taller than he was, you’re of a similar build.’
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re very generous,’ he drawled, and Olivia looked confused.
‘Generous?’ she echoed. ‘I’m afraid I—’
‘Accepting the fact that I fit my father’s shoes so much better than you do,’ he explained mockingly. ‘Doesn’t it trouble you that I might not want to take them off?’
Thinking of what she planned to do, Olivia drew a deep breath: ‘Perhaps—perhaps I won’t ask you to,’ she ventured softly, and then gulped in dismay when Alex’s hands fastened on her shoulders. They were strong hands, hard and calloused, as she had discovered the night before, and even through the thick skin of her coat they hurt!
‘Don’t play games with me!’ he grated, and for a moment she was too stunned to answer him. ‘I was only trying you out last night, Mrs Gantry. I was interested to see how far you would go. Well, we both know what happened, don’t we, and as far as I’m concerned you deserve everything that’s coming to you!’
‘I don’t know what you mean!’
Olivia dragged herself away from him, trembling with a mixture of emotions that were not expelled by the contemptuous expression on his face. ‘Oh, you know,’ he told her harshly. ‘You married Henry to get your hands on all this, and now you find it’s not enough; you need something more!’
‘You’re crazy—’
‘Am I?’ He stepped close to her again, and it was all she could do not to back away from him. ‘You’re a sexy lady, Liv, but you’ll never know now whether they want you—or your money! What do you want from me, I wonder? Reassurance?’
‘I want nothing from you!’ Olivia spat the words, but Alex was unrepentant.
‘I can’t believe that, Liv. You’re scared of me, for some reason.’ He shook his head. ‘But don’t push me too far, stepmother dear, or I may just decide to take you up on your most generous offer, and that would be disastrou
s for both of us!’
Olivia pressed her hands to her middle, trying to dispel the raw feeling inside her, and as she did so, Mary came down the stairs with the sheepskin jacket. Alex moved away from her, and she doubted the girl had noticed how close they had been a few moments before, but Mary had sharp eyes, and she was astute enough to realise there had to be a reason for her mistress’s hectically-flushed cheeks. Olivia could imagine the gossip that would ensue in the kitchen after this little fiasco, and guessed that Mary would enjoy her unexpected notoriety.
‘Will this coat do, Mrs Gantry?’ she asked, offering a thigh-length jacket with a soft suede exterior, and Olivia nodded gauntly as Alex took it from the maid.
‘This is exactly what I need, Mary,’ he exclaimed, taking off his jacket before sliding his arms into the sleeves of the warm sheepskin. ‘Thank you for getting it for me.’ He smiled disarmingly. ‘I think Mrs Gantry is concerned about my health.’
‘Well, it is a cold morning, sir,’ Mary assured him, flattered by his attention, and Olivia turned away in disgust. She did not know how he could behave so courteously to the maid after his insulting behaviour to her, and although she was trying to be objective, her own feelings were hardening.
‘Shall we go?’
Alex’s breath fanned her cheek, and she glanced round half-guiltily to find Mary had gone.
‘Are you sure you want me to come with you?’ she asked, meeting his dark eyes with enforced indifference. ‘I mean—I should have thought you would rather explore the private places of your youth without my tainted presence!’
His brows arched. ‘The lady has a sense of humour.’
‘No. I would simply prefer to avoid any further outbursts like the last one.’
‘Why?’ He shrugged. ‘Don’t you like the truth?’
‘No more than you do, apparently,’ retorted Olivia coldly. ‘You’re the prodigal, Mr Gantry, not me. Too bad all the fatted calves are dead!’
‘What a sharp little tongue you have, stepmother!’ he taunted grimly, and then, as if growing tired of the argument, he put one hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the door. ‘Come on. The air’s got to be fresher outside than in this mausoleum.’
