Lord of Misrule

by Sally Wentworth

  ‘I……’ She broke off, biting her lip, aware that she was becoming defensive.

  Letting go of her arm, Sebastian straightened up, squaring his shoulders-There was a frown in his eyes and he didn’t speak at once, as if he was making up his mind about something. Finally he said, ‘Verity, I realise that I have no right to ask any favours of you when you’ve already suffered so much at my hands, but–‘

  ‘But you’re going to ask it anyway,’ she broke in.

  He gave a twisted, rueful smile. ‘Yes, I am. Because it’s very important to me that we get this thing sorted out.’ His eyes held hers. ‘I don’t want you to go on having the wrong idea about me, you see.’

  His voice was deep, insinuating, and she was very aware of his sheer masculine attraction. ‘What—what favour do you want?’ she asked a little unsteadily.

  ‘I want you to come with me tomorrow, at (he same time as the accident happened, to the same place, and see for yourself how difficult it was for me to see you. Hopefully the weather tomorrow will be much the same as today. Will you do that for me, Verity?’ he asked urgently.

  She hesitated, realising that she had already relented a good deal. ‘You want me to admit that I might have been mistaken?’

  ‘I want you to see for yourself that it’s possible,’ he corrected her. ‘Will you come?’

  ‘Yes, all right. But…’ she lifted her head to look directly into his eyes ‘… you haven’t yet explained why you were so angry with me.’

  At that he gave a decisive shake of his head. ‘Not with you, no. How could I possibly be when I didn’t even know you? But—well, I admit that I was extremely angry at the time. It was—something to do with the estate, nothing more. But I’m terribly afraid that my mind was preoccupied with that, and I wasn’t concentrating as well as I might on my driving. Add that to the sun and not expecting anyone to be on the bridge, and I’m afraid it all adds up to what could have been a terrible tragedy, for which I can only apologise yet again.’ There was real emotion in his voice this time, as if he was picturing it all over again, as he added, ‘I would never have been able to live with myself if–‘

  He turned away rather abruptly, took a few paces round the room, his hands thrust into his pockets. ‘Thank you for saying that you’ll come tomorrow,” he said at length. ‘I appreciate it, after all you’ve been through.’

  Verity wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, but the sound of the door opening made them both turn as Paula and Maggie came into the room, the two women giving them quick, searching looks as they entered.

  ‘Good heavens, haven’t you brought the coffee in yet?’ Maggie remarked, and went out to the kitchen to fetch it.

  ‘What was the nursery like?’ Verity asked, turning to Paula in some relief.

  ‘Lovely! Terribly old-fashioned, of course, but there are some gorgeous toys up there. A huge rocking-horse, and a train set, Lois of things that Simon used to play with.’

  Paula spoke brightly enough, but Verity knew her friend very well and recognised from the shadowed look in her eyes and the break in her tone that she was missing Simon. Quickly Verity went over and linked her arm through Paula’s: ‘Come and sit down and tell me all about it. Will you redecorate the room, do you think? What colour will you do if? I saw some delightful nursery wallpaper in a store in London recently.’

  The questions soon diverted Paula and her face brightened. She loved designing and decorating; before her marriage she had worked for a large firm of interior designers in London, and it was when the firm had sent her to Bahrain to redesign the home of one of their rich Arab clients that she had met Simon.

  They were still discussing the subject when Maggie returned with the coffee-tray. ‘Would you mind if I had the nursery redecorated?’ Paula said rather hesitantly as she took the cup that Sebastian offered her. ‘Perhaps you would rather it was left as it is.’

  ‘It’s sweet of you to ask,’ Maggie answered. ‘But this is your house now, Paula. You can do as you please with it. Or at least, it’s your child’s—Simon’s child’s.’

  ‘But it’s been your home for so long,’ Paula began. ‘I’m sure that you must rcse‘ She broke off, her cheeks colouring in embarrassment. ‘That is, I‘

  ‘It was bound to happen sooner or later,’ Sebastian said brusquely. ‘Presumably Simon would have brought you back here eventually. As far as my mother and I are concerned, we’ve just been caretakers here ever since my stepfather—Simon’s father—died.’

  He spoke so harshly that Verity looked at him searchingly, wondering if he resented the invidious position that Simon had left him in. It couldn’t have been easy for him to have a younger stepbrother who had inherited everything while he had nothing. Especially when Simon had treated his home and his inheritance with such disregard, as if it was of little or no importance to him.

  As if he heard the harshness in his own voice, Sebastian modulated his tone as he said to Paula, ‘Perhaps you could spare some time tomorrow morning to discuss the estate and your plans with me?

  And you’ll want to go through the books, of course.

  They’re dealt with on a day-to-day basis by a local firm of accountants, but I’ll get them to send the books over so that you …’

  ‘Oh, no, please!’ Paula broke in, ‘I’m sure that’s not necessary. Simon always said that you ran the estate far more efficiently than he ever could. He had no head for anything at all agricultural.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I must insist that we have a talk as soon as possible,’ Sebastian persisted. ‘Would ten-thirty tomorrow be convenient?’

  It was more of a command than a request. Paula agreed, but gave Verity a look of helpless appeal—a look that was put into words when the two girls went up to bed an hour or so later. ‘Come into my room for a while,’ Paula said urgently. And when the door was safely shut, ‘Lord, what a day! I’m glad it’s over.’ Sitting on the bed, she kicked off her shoes. ‘Well, at least we can’t say that it’s boring in the country. Though I’m not particularly looking forward to tomorrow, either.’

  ‘Why not? You’re not worrying about the meeting with Sebastian, are you?’

  ‘Yes, I am,’ Paula said feelingly. ‘What if he wants me to take over the running of the estate? I know even less about that sort of thing than Simon did.’

  ‘I’m sure he doesn’t expect that,’ Verity said reassuringly. ‘He probably just wants you to give him the go-ahead to carry on as before. Anybody would in his position.’

  ‘Do you think I ought to offer to pay him or something?’ Paula asked worriedly. ‘I don’t even know if Simon paid him a salary.’

  ‘Well, I expect he’ll tell you that tomorrow. Sebastian doesn’t strike me as being the type who’s afraid to come out and say what’s on his mind,” Verity said wryly.

  Paula gave her a look brim full of curiosity. ‘What happened between you and Sebastian while Maggie and I were upstairs? I didn’t know whether to hurry down and rescue you or leave you to sort it out between you. I was half afraid you might have a fight.’

  ‘We came close,’ Verity admitted. ‘But I suppose the accident must have shaken me up more than I realised, because I–’

  ‘Accident? Are you saying that you believe Sebastian now?’

  Verity frowned broodingly. ‘Let’s say I’m beginning to have second thoughts now that I’ve got over the shock of it a bit more. It just seems so impossible for it to have been anything else. And Sebastian—well, how could anyone conceivably think of him as some kind of maniac? When you talk to him—well, he just doesn’t fit the part.’

  Leaning back against the bedhead, Paula said, ‘What did you think of him?’

  ‘Physically, you mean?’

  ‘Mmm, and as a person.’

  ‘Well, physically he’s OK, I suppose, and‘

  ‘Oh, come off it, Verity; he’s terrifically attractive! Tall, dark, and handsome in a hard kind of way; what more could you want? And don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.’r />
  ‘I was too busy wondering why the hell he wanted to kill me to worry about what he looked like,’ Verity answered shortly. But then she saw Paula raise her eyebrows disbelievingly, and said, ‘Oh, OK, maybe he is good-looking, but, like you said, there’s something about him, something hard and cold under the surface that gives me the shivers.’

  ‘He is rather intimidating at times,’ Paula admitted. ‘But he can be very charming, too.’

  ‘Ail men can be charming when they want to be,’ Verity pointed out with certainty.

  ‘That’s true.’

  Both girls fell silent for a moment, each busy with her own thoughts, then Paula yawned. ‘Oh, I’m tired. It’s been a long day.’

  ‘I’ll leave you to get some sleep, then,’ Verity said, standing up at once. ‘Don’t forget I’m right next door if you need me.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Paula caught Verity’s arm as she went to leave. ‘I’m so glad that you’re all right. Oh, Verity, I couldn’t bear it if something terrible happened to you, too.’

  ‘It won’t.’ Verity sat down again and put a comforting arm round Paula’s shoulders. ‘Surely today must have proved to you that I have a charmed life?’

  ‘And it was an accident, wasn’t it?’ Paula asked in sudden anxiety.

  Realising that to reassure Paula was all-important, Verity said with a confidence that she was beginning to feel might be real, ‘Of course it was. I was a fool to even think for a moment that Sebastian did it deliberately. Put it down to shock and my vivid imagination.’

  ‘And you’ll stay here with me? You won’t let it put you off?’

  ‘Of course not. OK, so maybe I got off to a bad start with Sebastian, but Maggie has been very kind and welcoming. You’ll be happy here, you’ll see. Tomorrow we’ll explore the house and the garden, and then you can decide how you want the nursery and we’ll decorate it together; I’ve become quite good at painting and wallpapering since I bought my house.’

  She stayed for a while longer, talking Paula into a more secure frame of mind, and only left when the other girl began to sag with tiredness and would soon fail asleep and forget her worries. ‘Goodnight. See you tomorrow.’

  Paula yawned again. ‘Oh, dear, I have that meeting with Sebastian tomorrow,’ she remembered.

  ‘Don’t worry about it; you needn’t be afraid of Sebastian.’

  Verity went to her own room and got ready for bed. She, too, felt very tired, and her shoulders ached where she had hung from the bridge. She lifted her hands to rub them and felt a cold shiver run through her. Resolutely she tried to put the memories out of her mind, and got into bed, putting out the light and lying in the darkness waiting for sleep to come. But every time she closed her eyes she saw again Sebastian’s face, full of anger, and hastily opened them. She had confidently told Paula not to worry about her meeting with Sebastian tomorrow, that she needn’t be afraid of him, but she had also promised to meet Sebastian tomorrow—and she very much wished that she could believe her own words, because she felt more than a little apprehensive and worried about what that meeting might bring.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Strangely, Verity woke quite early the next morning and didn’t feel at all tired, although it had been late before she had finally got to sleep. Sunlight filtered through a gap in the curtains and she got quickly out of bed to pull them aside. A thin carpet of mist lay over the dew-soaked lawns surrounding the house, but the birds were already singing their hearts out, making the most of the sun. Opening the window, Verity leaned her elbows on the sill and looked out, flectingly glad that her room wasn’t at the front of the house and so didn’t overlook the river and the bridge. It was going to be a beautiful day. Ordinarily she would have been rushing to queue for a bus and then push her way on to a crowded underground train to get to work. But not today. Today she was free, at least until this afternoon when she had promised to meet Sebastian. Pushing that thought out of her mind, Verity showered and dressed, putting on a full skirt and baggy sweater, and then ran downstairs. There was no one in the dining-room or drawing-room, but she could hear sounds coming from a room down the hallway and pushed open the door to find herself in a big farmhouse-style kitchen. A woman was working at an Aga oven built against the far wall, its warmth giving a pleasing feeling of welcome to the room. The woman turned round—and the feeling of welcome vanished. She gave Verity a look of open hostility, the small eyes in her rather fat face going over her in apparent dislike.

  Verity stopped on the threshold, taken aback by such unexpected animosity. 4G-good morning,’ she stammered, completely thrown.

  The woman’s glare only increased. ‘I suppose you’ll be Mrs Layton,’ she said in a disparaging tone.

  ‘Why, no. I’m Verity Mitchell, Paula—Mrs Layton’s friend.’

  ‘Oh, the other one.’ The woman sniffed, but some of the antagonism left her face.

  ‘Er—yes.’ Verity gave her a puzzled frown and dredged her memory to come up with a name, “And I suppose you’re Mrs Chivers?’

  ‘Who told you about me?’ the woman immediately demanded belligerently.

  ‘I believe the other Mrs Layton, Maggie, mentioned your name yesterday,’ Verity-answered coolly. ‘And doesn’t that bacon smell as if it’s burning?’

  The woman quickly turned back to the stove and removed a frying pan from the hotplate. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting your breakfast. If you wait in the morning-room, I’ll bring it in to you.’

  ‘Thanks, but I only want some juice. And I’ll take some up for Mrs Paula Layton.’ It was going to be awkward with two Mrs Laytons in the house, Verity realised. Ordinarily she would just have said Paula, but Mrs Chivers’ attitude and her own inexperience in dealing with domestic staff made her speak more formally than she would ordinarily have done.

  The cupboards round the room were glass-fronted, so Verity was able to find and take down two glasses, which she filled with orange juice from a carton in the fridge. She was aware of Mrs Chivers’ disapproving eyes watching her as she did so, but the housekeeper didn’t say anything more, turning away to put the bacon she’d cooked into a sandwich for herself, which she began to eat.

  ‘I’ll let you know if Mrs I.ay ton wants anything more for breakfast,’ Verity said as she backed out of the door carrying a tray with the two glasses.

  Mrs Chivers had sat down at the kitchen table and just gave her a dour look before turning away to read a newspaper.

  What a horrible woman! Verity wondered why on earth Maggie put up with her, but perhaps it was difficult to get staff to work in a big country house like this, and perhaps Mrs Chivers resented having two extra people to cope with, not to mention the baby when it came along. Resentment—there was the word again, an emotion which seemed to be in people’s minds even if not spoken, although Verity had to admit that neither Maggie nor Sebastian had shown it. The house, though, looked well cared for, so presumably Mrs Chivers was a hard worker. Anyway, it was none of Verity’s business; all she could do was to offer to help so that she and Paula wouldn’t be too much of a burden.

  It was too nice to stay indoors. A table and some chairs in heavy, white-painted wrought-ironwork had been set out on the patio outside the drawing-room; Verity sat down there to drink her juice, enjoying the freshness of the morning. The patio was a sun-trap, facing south and sheltered from any breeze by the two projecting wings of the house. The rich scent of warm earth and damp grass filled the air, unfamiliar to Verity’s town-bred senses, yet reaching some primitive part of her nature that instantly recognised the aromas and found them good, even sensuous. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes, drinking in the scents, her hair falling back from her head and glistening with the sheen of new chestnuts in the sun.

  Lost in her reverie. Verity didn’t hear someone else come out on to the patio until Sebastian’s voice said ‘Good morning’ close behind her. She jerked her head forward and swung round in startled alarm, her arms coming up in a protective movement as she half rose from her se
at, banging her hip against the table as she did so.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Sebastian said sardonically at her reaction, Tm not going to attack you.’

  Slowly she subsided into her chair, rubbing her hip. ‘You made me jump. I was miles away and I hadn’t heard you.’

  He gave her a brooding look. ‘I suppose you have the right to be jumpy after yesterday.’ Verity gave a short laugh. ‘Well, I’m not usually the nervous type.’

  ‘No.’ Sebastian pulled out a chair and sat down beside her, his eyes going over her as if assessing her all over again in the light of day. ‘No, I don’t think you are.’ He gave a rather rueful grin. ‘We haven’t exactly met in the most fortuitous of circumstances, have we? Bui maybe we can put that right today. I certainly hope so.’

  There was just enough emphasis on the pronoun to make Verity give him a quick, surprised glance. She was attractive enough to have heard that tone in a man’s voice many times before, although she hadn’t expected to hear it now. Bui there was nothing in Sebastian’s face to suggest that he fancied her, no raised eyebrows or knowing smile, and she thought she must have been mistaken, that he just wanted her to admit that she’d been wrong yesterday and clear him of any blame. Yes, that must be it, but the idea that he might be interested in her had made Verity become more interested in him. She wondered if he had a girlfriend and why he had never married. Or perhaps he had been married and it hadn’t worked out. She really knew hardly anything about him, and didn’t think that Paula knew much more.

  His mouth thinned. ‘I see you’re reserving judgement.’

  ‘Perhaps. I was just thinking that I know very little about you,’ Verity admitted honestly.

  ‘Or I you.’ Sebastian grinned suddenly, and the smile transfigured his face. ‘For instance, I don’t know why you need two glasses of orange juice.’

  ‘What? Oh, the other one is for Paula. But I shouldn’t think she’ll be awake yet.’ She glanced at her watch. Til take it up to her shortly.’