“I’m twenty-two. They didn’t specify you wanted to see a birth certificate.”
“I wanted someone responsible.”
“I’m even responsible,” Jenny returned smoothly.
The anger had started to build. How dare he be so rude? She hadn’t had time to change and had left home straight away, so she was still in her beach wear: sundress, flat-heeled sandals and the wide brimmed sun hat tilted over the two plaits over her shoulders.
The grey eyes of her would-be employer became even frostier at her reply. Jenny got the message: he wasn’t used to anyone answering him back. He stood up to indicate the interview had been terminated.
“There are three children to be supervised, as well as the bookwork, and it is important to have someone with sufficient experience and stamina to cope.”
Jenny stood up. She didn’t want the position anyway, but temper and her stubborn streak pushed her into recklessness. Her would-be employer was arrogant and judgmental, making sweeping assessments about her competence on a single meeting. What right did he think he had to flick his eyes over her so contemptuously?
“My references should speak for themselves and, despite your personal views, I do have enough stamina and experience to cope with children.” She let an acid note creep into her voice. “As you will find it difficult to get anyone else with my qualifications at such short notice, and for such a temporary period, I suggest you live dangerously and accept the Agency recommendation to employ me.”
That had stung, she thought triumphantly, as she watched the ugly red flood into his cheeks.
He glared back down at her. His grey eyes were outlined with black lashes that gave a smoldering intensity to his gaze. She wondered if he was going to erupt in temper, and stepped out of reach as she gave him a dimpled smile and took over firmly. “I look forward to meeting you back here at six tomorrow morning then.”
She gave a gracious nod as though she assumed consent. She had glanced around as she marched away, and now felt those grey eyes boring into her back, but he had only given an ironic salute before turning and striding back into the hotel.
The next morning his aloof courtesy was all that could be desired as he put her case in the boot and opened the door of the big car. Jenny fastened her seat belt. She’d tucked her hair in a tight chignon, and wore a tailored grey slacks suit and shoes with sensible heels. She had an instant flash of satisfaction when she first arrived, realizing that he hadn’t recognized her behind her sunglasses until she spoke. Then there was a look of startled awareness, and he retreated behind his silence.
Her reluctant employer looked less overpowering this morning in casual slacks and long-sleeved shirt. The breadth of his shoulders under his light-colored shirt made his height less noticeable, but he was still a tall man. He had jet-black hair, and this morning the black bars of his eyebrows were raised into an arch over alert grey eyes.
Jenny studied his profile out of the corner of her eyes as he drove skillfully through the city traffic and along the freeway. He had regular features, high cheekbones, a fairly prominent nose and a determined jaw. His mouth was firm and well shaped, and there were laughter lines around the corners.
Jenny revised her estimate of his age. Without the unpleasantly grim mouth and the tension, he looked to be in his early thirties. His firm mouth quirked upwards into a wry grin as he became aware of her scrutiny.
“It’s a long drive,” he advised. “Make yourself comfortable.”
They were the last words he spoke for several hours. Jenny spent her time regretting her impulsive action in forcing him to accept her as the only candidate for the position. The job would, without a doubt, be unpleasant and boring, and the only thing going for it was the fact that it was temporary.
He spoke suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’ll stop for lunch soon,” he promised. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes,” she admitted.
That was the extent of their conversation. At the next country town, the car purred to a stop in front of the old-fashioned hotel. Wayne Paterson got out and escorted Jenny up the steps and through to the dining room. She sniffed at the aroma of roasting beef and steamed vegetables and decided she was very hungry. Breakfast had been a sketchy tea and toast.
Jenny didn’t let the silence of her employer prevent her from enjoying her roast dinner and sweets. Her companion seemed less interested in his food, and pushed away his plate without finishing. He waited until she had finished a second cup of coffee before ushering her back to the car, glancing at his watch with a worried expression.
“Are we behind schedule?” Jenny demanded. “You didn’t really have to wait for me to have two cups of coffee.”
“I am anxious to get back,” Wayne admitted. “The children need constant supervision at the moment.”
“Your children?” Jenny asked.
“My sister’s,” he said flatly. The countryside was undulating. His eyes watched the road as sit unwound ahead of them. A tic twitched at the side of his face. “She was killed last month in a car accident.”
Jenny was too shocked to risk saying anything. She revised her opinion of the tall man with the worried eyes and the tense lines around his mouth. It sounded like a pretty traumatic scene to be involved in. No wonder he was so uptight at the interview!
“Marise, her assistant, was thrown clear and escaped with a few broken ribs and a broken ankle.”
“And I’m relieving until Marise is well enough to return to work?” Jenny guessed.
“The kids have been a bit of a handful,” he muttered.
“I like kids. How old are they?”
She was rewarded with a quick glance. “Well, that’s something,” he said drily.
Jenny repressed her quick retort. Wayne Paterson’s tension and irritability were suddenly understandable, and made him seem more human and somehow vulnerable.
“Tell me about them?” she coaxed. “It will be less difficult to step in and take over if I know something about them.”
His face softened and his mouth curved up into a proper smile. Jenny felt herself warming to that smile. It altered his entire face. The cold aloofness and arrogance was gone completely. It was obvious that he was a doting uncle to his sister’s children.
The car purred along the endless winding road and the afternoon sun slanted lower. Wayne Patterson’s nephews, John and Allan Williams, were twelve and ten and caught a bus to school. Meredith, nearly five, was still home all day. The property was called Taralon, and mainly ran beef cattle, horses and some sheep.
“Gwenda’s death seems to have traumatized her husband, Bill,” he explained flatly. “So the kids aren’t settling down at all. I’ve been staying to help but, sooner or later, I have to get back to my own place. The housekeeper, Mrs. Harris, has got enough to do without having to do the books and keep an eye on Merry. Which is why I needed someone to fill in until things settled down.”
“No one can replace your sister, or familiar faces around the place, but I will try my best to be of assistance,” Jenny said quietly. “It sounds as if it has been a dreadful few weeks.”
“Yes,” he said flatly.
It was now dark and the headlights probed onwards through the darkness. It was only a short time later that the car slowed down and turned through an ornate set of gates.
Jenny sat up. This would be the entrance to Taralon! Half an hour of winding narrow track and then over a steep hill before they arrived. The moon was high in the sky and, on the other side of the hill, Jenny looked down into a cleared valley. A cluster of buildings and the lights of a sprawling house beckoned through the darkness.
Wayne slowed and then stopped the car in the front of the house. He tooted the horn. Three children burst from the house and came tumbling down the steps of the veranda. The small girl reached the car first, and flung herself into her uncle’s arms as he stepped from the car.
“Uncle Wayne,” she shrieked.
The two boys reached him and clung to him.
Jenny stretched, opened the door and stood waiting. A stooped figure had followed the children down the steps, and also waited. Wayne put the little girl down, and disentangled himself from the clutches of the two boys.
“Jenny Fleming, please meet Bill Williams and, of course, Merry, John and Allan.”
“Pleased to meet you Miss Fleming,” the other man said tonelessly.
“It’s Jenny,” she smiled, holding out her hand.
“Yes,” the man said absently, not seeming to notice her outstretched hand. “Mrs. Harris has kept dinner. Do come in.”
“I’ll put the car away, and bring up your case,” Wayne called.
He got back into the car with the three children and drove it around the house. Jenny followed the stooped figure up the steps, across the wide veranda, and through a screen door that led into a large kitchen.
She stood blinking in the light for a few seconds. Behind his bent and weary frame she could see that Bill Williams had graying tousled hair and a gaunt hollow-cheeked face with pale blinking eyes. The kitchen seemed huge, with a large center table, benches around the wall, and a couch along the window with a girl sitting on it. A stoutly built woman by the table turned with a smile as they came in.
“Miss Jenny Fleming,” Bill Williams introduced as he pulled out a chair for her and rested a hand on the back of it. She saw it was shaking a little. “Meet Mrs. Harris.”
“Welcome to Taralon, Jenny,” Mrs. Harris said with a smile.
The other door opened. Wayne Paterson came in quietly with the children following him. Jenny smiled at them but they ignored her, hovering closely around Wayne.
A husky chuckle came from the couch. Jenny directed her attention to the girl on the couch, a plaster cast on one long leg, and crutches leaning against the wall. Her first impression was one of dazzle, of white teeth, of gleaming eyes and shining blonde hair.
“Hello, Marise,” Wayne said. “Back are you? Have you met Jenny Fleming?”
The girl had hazel eyes under the shining fringe of hair. She inspected Jenny, and her red lips curled up in a mocking smile. Jenny met her gaze steadily, but she felt the hackles on the back of her neck rise at the contemptuous look. Was her brown hair that untidy and her grey slacks suit that shoddy looking?
“Hello, Jenny Wren,” Marise said with a smile, but her eyes were wary and watchful. “Where did Wayne find you, I wonder?”
“An employment agency, Marise,” Jenny returned smoothly.
Marise lost her mocking, amused smile. She leaned back on the couch and gave Jenny a long, venomous look. Jenny pretended not to see, but her heart sank.
She was going to have to look after three children who stared at her with wary hostility. Her actual employer was the distracted, stooped man who didn’t seem to see her properly and, to cap it off, she had just acquired the inexplicable enmity of the girl she was relieving, the beautiful Marise.
This particular temporary job was certainly going to represent a challenge for her competence and ability! Just what had she let herself in for this time?
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The Secret Agenda Page 8
