by Pamela Kent
coming.
“I see you’ve improved your style of dressing. Must have spent quite a bit of old Angus’s carefully hoarded money ... And I must say that new hair-do suits you!”
He leant back against the piano, and his blue eyes blazed with insolence.
“Sir Angus—” she found it difficult to enunciate clearly, but this was a business that had to be concluded as rapidly as possible, “how much money do you want to leave me alone for the rest of my life, and if possible never to come near me again? You know how much your uncle left, and you know how much I received... According to the will I can’t just hand it all over to you and the other members of your family, because your uncle didn’t want that to happen, apparently, and if I decline to be his leading beneficiary everything goes elsewhere. Some society for the preservation of ancient dialects. ” “I know all about that.”
“Then how much will you take?”
The blue eyes positively glittered. His jaw was as hard as iron. “You mean you’re prepared to buy me out? To buy your way into the good graces of the Giffard family, shall we say?”
“You can say what you like, but all I want to know is how much do you want? There’s nothing to stop me having a Deed of Gift drawn up, and that can be large enough to make some sort of provision for your aunt and your cousin. I understand that they are not destitute, but they probably expected to benefit under your uncle’s will, so now is the time to make up to them for any disappointment they received .”
A dull flush was creeping up under his naturally dark—she decided it was tanned—skin, and for a moment the look in his eyes frightened her. Her voice died into silence, and between them there was silence for several long-drawn-out and extraordinarily tense seconds, after which he spoke in a clipped, curt voice and walked to the window.
“I don’t suppose you mean to be as crude as you sound, but if you were a man I’d give you something to remember your impertinence by!” Outside in the square taxis were gliding past, children were playing in the square gardens, an old lady was glancing anxiously up at the sky because a few flakes of snow were falling ... But Tina knew that Angus Giffard saw none of these things, he was so consumingly angry. He turned on her with a gesture of violence that caused her to back slightly. “If you were even a few years younger I’d put you across my knee and give you the thrashing you deserve...” His voice was muffled. “And I don’t suppose you ever received!”
Tina had come up against the hard edge of the marble mantelpiece, and she could retreat no further. But her cheeks had turned quite a degree paler, because never in her life had she encountered anything like this man’s badly suppressed fury...
And the thought that if he failed to suppress it she was only five feet two inches tall, and he was over six feet, and there was no one else in the house to come between them, alarmed her all at once.
“It was not my intention to offend you,” she said.
He swallowed his wrath.
“No, I don’t suppose it was . . . But take my advice, and never try anything out on me like that again! If you do, you’ll regret it. Or I shall!” His lips twisted in a mixture of wryness and slow-dying fury that he sought to disguise as a smile, and a little of the dull red receded behind his skin. “Let me give you a piece of advice. You’ve come into quite a lot of money and a number of possessions that you possibly never dreamed would one day be yours. Well, enjoy them! Have a good time on the strength of your ill-gotten gains, if you’ll forgive me for putting it in that way, and try not to bump into me more often than you need. That’s all I ask!”
He turned away, and she realised that in a few short strides he would have reached the door, but she halted his progress.
“Sir Angus!”
“Yes?”
He didn’t even turn his head, but she knew that his square jaw was squarer than ever.
“What about the clock? You said you would like it. At least allow me to make you a present of it!”
At that he removed his note-case from his pocket, took out a card which he flung down on an occasional table, and accepted the gift in the spirit that it was offered.
“Very well. You can have it sent to my flat. My address is on my card.”
No word of thanks, or even appreciation. But she experienced a curious sensation of relief because he hadn’t actually flung the clock at her.
“Goodbye, Sir Angus.” He failed to reply, and a brief while later she heard the front door slam as he left the house, and then the noise of a taxi driving away from the front of the house. She ventured to desert the support of the marble mantelpiece behind her, and was not altogether surprised when she found herself trembling as she stood in the middle of the room and drew a deep breath that also seemed to be a little shaky. She put out one of her hands and looked at it, and the fact that they were trembling, too, did seem to surprise her.
“I must have put things rather badly,” she murmured to herself, and then decided all at once that the house was very empty and she
didn’t like being alone in it any longer, and she picked up her gloves and handbag and let herself hurriedly out into the street.
It really was beginning to snow... the bare trees in the square were becoming quite white with it, and a bitter wind that seemed to be blowing straight from the arctic was scattering the flakes so that they resembled a minature whirlwind. Tina bent her head against it, and with her new thick tweed coat buttoned well up against the cold she hastened along without quite realising where she was going— or why, if it came to that—and collided with a man who was also wearing a thick tweed coat buttoned well up against the weather, and heard a voice that was vaguely familiar saying apologetically: “I’m afraid I nearly knocked you off your feet!” His arm was supporting her, and he was looking down at her in dark-eyed concern. “Why, it’s Miss Andrews. Miss Tina Andrews!” His voice sounded pleasant as well as surprised, and if she had been capable of detecting it just then it even held a pleased note. “What are you doing so far from your bleak north country? Not that London has anything much better in the way of weather to offer at the moment, I’m afraid!” And then, as if he was suddenly inspired: “Of course, you’ve been to look at the house!”
She put back her head to look up at him, and the snow that had already collected on her feathery gold curls lent her a fairytale appearance.
“Dr. Giffard!” she gasped, in relief. “I’m so pleased to see you.” And she was, after her recent interview with his cousin, for Alaine Giffard had been her one support in time of trouble only a couple of weeks before. “Were you on your way to the house, too? Sir Angus has just been there!”
She felt that he was immediately enlightened, and understood the reason why she had been hurrying along as if temporarily demented. His arm was still lightly encompassing her shoulders, and he glanced around him and then up at the sky full of snow.
“I wasn’t on my way to the house... I was on my way to my club, which is only a short distance from here. I was thinking about lunch. Do you think you could be induced to think about it too?” “You mean, will I have lunch with you?”
His white teeth gleamed.
“Exactly. Will you have lunch with me? I’d be very glad if you would.”
“You really mean that?”
For an instant the dark eyes registered surprise, and then they softened until they were almost gentle.
“Of course I mean it. I want to hear all about your doings. How you like London, and so forth. How you got on with old Jasper—I won’t ask you a word about Angus!”
The promise plainly comforted her, for her whole expression betrayed relief—in fact, profound relief.
“I don’t like him,” she said jerkily, “and he doesn’t like me. But I’d love to have lunch with you!”
CHAPTER FIVE WITHIN a few minutes they were in a taxi, and driving the rest of the way to his club. It was the first time in her life that Tina had been invited to have lunch with a man of Dr. Giffard’s eminence— or with a ma
n as well turned out, and who looked as attractive as he did. When she glanced rather shyly sideways at him from time to time she realised that he was really exceptionally good-looking, and a little thrill not unlike excitement swept through her because, having accepted his invitation, she didn’t have to feel ashamed of her own appearance, because she, too, was particularly well dressed. Just before the taxi reached its destination Giffard’s eyes rested on her approvingly, and he commented:
“I see you haven’t been confining your visit to London wholly to business. You’ve been doing some shopping.”
“Yes.” The dark blue eyes enquired candidly whether he approved of her taste or not. “It was wonderful, buying new clothes. I never knew it could be such a thrill.”
“You mean you never had the opportunity to find out?”
She nodded her head, soberly.
“A new coat once a year... Perhaps a couple of new dresses. Usually I make them myself. It’s cheaper to buy the material, and you get better value.” She coloured with sudden selfconsciousness. “At least, I think you get better value... Or you do if you’re clever and can copy some of the model clothes. I’m not always successful because I’m not frightfully clever, but at least it’s fun trying.”
His eyes were watching her as if he were amused.
“But from now on you won’t even have to try,” he reminded her. “So I hope you’ll find your fun elsewhere.”
They had arrived at his club, and she felt temporarily shy again as the somewhat sombre portals received them. But once inside the atmosphere of relaxed comfort and ease brought back the pleasant feeling of excitement she had experienced when he asked her to lunch with him. There was no orchestra playing lunch-time music,
or even a large number of other women present, or flowers on the tables, but the sparkling silver and magnificent damask, the fine oak panelling and red leather chairs together suggested a highly civilised way of life, and above all the smell of excellent roasts made Tina realise all at once that she was very hungry.
After the cold outside the warmth lapped her about like a comforting extra garment, and as Dr. Giffard insisted that she drank a sherry before her meal she was soon aware of the remaining shreds of her shyness floating away. She had never really felt acutely shy in the presence of the dark, distinguished-looking doctor, and after the death of old Angus, when he had taken her back to her schoolhouse, he had made such an effort to be nice to her that she had felt instinctively he was fundamentally nice. No doubt he felt he had a good deal to make up to her since she had received unmistakably cavalier treatment—even rather appalling treatment!—from his cousin Angus, and he had actually apologised for Angus during the journey in the car. He had asked her to overlook his rudeness because he was probably tired and hadn’t quite realised what he was saying, but Tina knew that the new baronet had been perfectly well aware of all that he was saying,.. and her experience that morning had confirmed her in her opinion of Angus.
Alaine could tell by the rather thoughtful look in her eyes that she wasn’t wholly at her ease with him yet, and he leaned across the table and looked at her earnestly.
“If it’s my cousin you’re thinking about, forget him” he advised. “I don’t know what he was doing in your house this morning, but he hadn’t any right to be there. You could have ordered him out, you know.”
She smiled a little wryly.
“When you say „my’ house, you know that Angus doesn’t think of it as my house. He was there to wind up a clock which stands in the hall, and which he apparently prizes. I told him he could have it.” The doctor’s eyebrows rose.
“That was generous of you,” he remarked—she couldn’t be entirely certain whether it was without a hint of sarcasm.
She looked him steadily in the eyes, while the fragrance of hot turtle soup rose between them.
“Don’t be silly, Doctor. You know very well it was the very least I could do to offer it to him!” she said quietly. “As a matter of fact, when I discovered he was in the house I seized the opportunity to offer him a good deal more than the grandfather clock... But he
refused with so much emphasis that I realised I’d offended him badly. In fact, I thought he was going to tear me apart with his bare hands for behaving with so much impertinence!”
“Indeed?” Alaine said, frowning quickly. “What exactly do you mean by that? And what exactly did you offer him?”
She answered the last part of his question first.
“I offered him a sum of money. I asked him how much he wanted to leave me alone, and never, if possible, come anywhere near me. I realise now that I put it a little badly, but I discussed the matter with Mr. Jasper and he said there was no way in which the will could be rescinded, or in which I could be discounted now that I’m an actual beneficiary—unless I refuse to accept the benefits, in which case the entire estate will go elsewhere—so I made up my mind to discuss the matter with Angus when I saw him, and get him to suggest some fair division of the property. But he flew into such a rage I really was quite alarmed for a few moments.”
“That was why you were scurrying along like a badly frightened rabbit when I caught sight of you outside the house?” Dr. Giffard suggested, watching her with the remnants of a frown between his brows. “I couldn’t think why you had such an air of trying to escape from something or other.”
She smiled wryly.
“I suppose you know that Angus has a deadful temper... I suppose I should say Sir Angus? But although he regards me as some type of adventuress the world would be better without I can’t honestly think that he has any real cause to so dislike me. Any justification for disliking me, I mean. If Sir Angus had been really fond of his relatives surely he wouldn’t have passed them over in his will? Just because he met me! I mean, it isn’t reasonable.”
And then she flushed because she realised that he was one of Sir Angus’s relatives, and he also had been passed over—because of her!
She leaned towards him earnestly.
“You don’t believe that there was anything between that poor old man and myself that wasn’t just casual friendship—really casual friendship—do you ?” she implored, as if it was important to her to know what he really thought of her.
As the waiter had just served them with their second course and left them alone in their cosy corner, he leaned across and gave her fingers not a slight squeeze but a firm, hard grasp.
“Of course I don’t,” he answered at once, without the smallest hesitation. His eyes dwelt upon the soft, feathery gold hair, so
beautifully cut now and gleaming in the subdued light of the club dining-room, and at the delicate, earnest, almost exquisite face below it, and suddenly he smiled at her warmly. “And you can take it from me that Angus doesn’t really believe anything of the kind, either. It so happens that he’s annoyed... badly annoyed because our uncle offered rather a nasty slight to the family when he decided to leave everything he possessed to you. Angus got the title, but he regards that as an empty thing when nothing else goes with it.”
“But he isn’t poor, is he? I mean... Did he need anything else?” Alaine looked amused.
“Have you ever met anyone who wouldn’t be happy to receive more than they need? Angus should be quite comfortably off, but I don’t know much about his financial concerns.”
“Mr. Jasper assured me that neither he nor your Aunt Clare, or your cousin Juliet, need very much.” The doctor shrugged, his smile altering very slightly. To Tina the quizzical gleam in his eyes betrayed the fact that he was slightly surprised by Mr, Jasper’s communicativeness.
“Then that leaves you, doesn’t it?” she said quietly. The quizzical gleam temporarily confused her. “You can take it from me that I’m not starving, either,” he assured her. “And, in any case, I was never
a favourite of Uncle Angus.”
“But your cousin Angus was?”
“At one time. I believe the old boy was quite attached to him at one period of his life, but they fe
ll out because they were much too like one another, and old Angus was just as liable to fly off the handle as young Angus unfortunately is. If Angus had toed the line there’s no doubt about it, my uncle would have left him everything when he died, but I don’t imagine Aunt Clare would have got anything, or Juliet, either. There was no family feeling between them and old Angus.”
“Then you don’t think I ought to offer them something? Suggest that I make something over to them, I mean,” she amended the somewhat awkward phrase hurriedly. “I’d feel happier,” she assured him candidly, “if I did.”
But Alaine shook his head at her, and after they had consulted the menu to decide their sweet urged her seriously not to make any more overtures to Angus, and if possible to avoid him whenever she saw him coming.
“I don’t mean that he’d ever be violent to you, but he has a flaming temper and a devilish lot of pride, and it doesn’t do anyone any good to get on the wrong side of him. Unfortunately, it was inevitable that you’d be on the wrong side of him, so make up your mind that there’s nothing that can be done about it, and treat him as you would a stick of dynamite. Remember that it has a nasty habit of exploding suddenly, and so has Angus. When he marries, his wife will have an outsize job keeping him in a good humour.
“Is he likely to be married soon?” Tina asked, finding it difficult to associate the red-headed, bleak-eyed Angus with the softer sentiments like love and marriage. Alaine shrugged.
“So far as we know he isn’t even engaged yet. But there’s always the possibility that he might be one day. Juliet seems to think it could happen at any time.
“Oh! Then there is... someone?”
Again Alaine shrugged.
“According to Juliet, yes.
Tina watched him as he lighted a cigarette and a waiter brought their coffee, and during the temporary lull in the conversation she wondered whether there was anyone important in his life, and whether he might, or might not, be contemplating matrimony. He was so darkly attractive that he must appeal to a good many women, and then, in addition, he was a doctor—and doctors always seem to make a tremendous impact on the imagination of the women with whom they come into contact.
