by Sara Wood
And all the time, surrounded by fascinated children and their parents, she was conscious only of one man and his woman.
Dane stood against the skyline just above Jade, silhouetted in the red blaze of the beacon fire, his arm around the woman. That could have been her, Jade thought, though she doubted she would have kept his interest very long. From under her lashes, she noted he looked deeply intent, as if he was listening to every word she said—the woman, too. Her heart ached to see them together so publicly. She refused to think of what they got up to in private. Her early instincts had obviously been right: the fragile, interesting woman was able to hold Dane's interest and fulfil his sexual needs.
At the stroke of midnight, Charlie rang the biggest bell in the church, far below. The last note died away and everyone was silent, watching the beacons flicker on distant hills as they had for centuries. Helpless to prevent herself, she lifted her lashes and stared at Dane. His eyes glittered red in the light and his dark figure looked threatening. Then he turned pointedly to his companion and blocked Jade out.
Filled with a sudden energy that had to be set free, she jumped up and organised a version of the Garland Dance, all the way down the hill and back to the village hall where hot soup was waiting for them. As she laughed and chatted, teased and exuded vitality, the image of Dane, almost supernaturally sinister, filled her head like a recurring nightmare.
Shivering with the intensity of the image, she vowed to be careful. It had almost seemed as if he had been trying to dominate her mind with his, taking advantage of the heightened tension of that night to catch her unawares. He was a dangerous, determined man, but she was strong now: he must have seen how cheerful she was, how she had driven away any residual need of him.
It wasn't long before her new strength would be put to the test. On the following Saturday morning, she blithely picked up the telephone to hear his voice and she was immediately on her guard.
'There's a swarm of bees hanging from one of my chestnut trees,' he began curtly, without any greeting or preamble. 'Anything to do with you?'
'Darn! I'll find out. Wait a moment.' Hot from her dash down to the end of the garden, which confirmed that they were hers, she counted up to twenty before picking up the phone again. 'Yes. I'll come over. Don't do anything, you could upset them.'
'I hadn't quite thought of it like that,' he said drily.
'Well, do,' she said sharply. 'There's a thunderstorm in the air and they'll be enraged.'
She cut off his question by putting the phone down, angry with herself. Earlier that morning she'd thought the hive was unusually excited, and just put it down to the brewing summer storm, which always disturbed them. Instead, a new queen had emerged and flown off with some of the drones to find a new nest.
Darn! She didn't relish tramping into the manor in her beekeeper's outfit, but there wasn't any alternative. She hurriedly stuffed everything she would need into a large wicker basket and set off, forcing a bright expression on to her face.
At least he had managed to prise himself away from his woman, she thought sourly to herself, as she saw him waiting for her alone at the top of the drive in his old jeans and top. He came forward to help carry her gear.
'Sorry about this. I hope you're not going to sue them and me for trespass. I couldn't hope to pay the fines of a few hundred sexless creatures,' she joked.
'Just get rid of them,' he said curtly.
'Show me where they are, then.'
'Down here. What was that you were saying about a thunderstorm?' he asked as they walked across the immaculate green lawn. Jade was trying not to notice how lovely the grounds looked and how much work had been done to improve them.
'Any change in the electrical field sends them crazy,' she said. 'I can usually tell when a storm is brewing long before it's apparent in the sky by the way they buzz. They react to negative charges too, which is why people talk to them, especially if someone dies.'
Her voice shook as she said that and she bit her lip, remembering how she had run full tilt down the garden to sit by the hive when Sebastian had died. His two friends, who had come to tell her, thought she was mad. But it was tradition. A silly superstition. One that brought her some kind of comfort, sitting there in the meadow, trying to gain control of her emotions.
'There they are,' Dane's tone had grown harsher. It seemed he saw the invasion of her bees as an infringement of his privacy. 'Do you need any assistance, or would you prefer to do this on your own?'
I don't need anyone,' she said, tossing her head.
'Really?'
He turned on his heel and strode towards the terrace where he had been drinking morning coffee. Jade donned her protective clothing, pulled the veil over her face and gently puffed smoke at the swarm, which was hanging like a living bag from the big branch. Then began the delicate task of slipping the swarm into her sack. When she'd finished she packed up her things and, in straightening up, directly faced the terrace.
Dane was embracing his woman, his arms wrapped tenderly around her. She was only wearing a cotton dressing-gown and, as her head was on his shoulder and she was clutched tightly to him, he must have felt every curve of her body.
The knives of cruel jealously tore into Jade relentlessly. Now she knew for sure. His supposed passionate desire for her had been easily satisfied elsewhere—whereas hers would never even know fulfilment. Hot, stinging tears sprang to her eyes and she cursed her emotional nature soundly.
Seeing them together like that had been the final straw. She fixed the sack on to a shoulder pole and moved quietly away so they didn't see her. It did hurt, there was no point in denying that. What she had to do was to get over him somehow. Once she was out of sight, she let free the sobs which had been held back, hurrying blindly down the lane and hoping no one would see her. But she bumped into Charlie.
'Here, you're too little to be carrying that lot,' he said in his slow voice. 'And what's upset you?'
He shouldered all her burdens and Jade wanted suddenly to let him take another one. 'Oh, Charlie!' she wailed.
'Here, don't carry on like that. Are these your bees in here?'
She nodded, sobbing.
'Go indoors. I'll get them sorted,' he said.
'They're angry…'
'I know that,' he said impatiently, giving her a push. 'Go on. Make some coffee or something. Shan't be long.'
They sat down together at the kitchen table and he listened patiently while she told him how she had been unwillingly attracted by Dane King and that he had pursued her for a while, until he'd found solace in another woman's arms.
'The devil! Want me to thump him?' asked Charlie.
She smiled weakly. 'No. I feel such a fool, Charlie, being interested in such a cad.'
'Forget him, he's not worth you. You're too good for him. To be honest, Jade when you and Sebastian first came here we all thought you were both fast. Slick, townie-like. Now I know you're different. Funny how you get the wrong impression of people, isn't it?'
'I made a mistake finding something to like about Dane King,' she said bitterly.
'Well, that's over now, isn't it?' he said cheerfully. 'You can't fancy a man who changes his sheets so often.'
Jade laughed through her tears. 'No,' she agreed. He'd put it very well. 'I can't.'
He stayed and chatted till it became clear that the storm would soon break and he had to hurry home. Jade sat in the unnaturally darkened room and thought. Being able to share her secret with Charlie had helped enormously.
There had been something naively stubborn in the way that, deep down, she had kidded herself Dane wasn't really corrupt and that the women who had visited were good friends. Of course he'd slept with them. He evidently enjoyed women—and he said himself that he liked variety. Jade wasn't making that mistake again. The manor seemed to attract bastards. The storm broke with savage ferocity, the lightning searing the room with blinding flashes. When it died away, Jade felt that the air had cleared and the rain had washed awa
y all her earlier innocent stupidity.
CHAPTER SIX
With a deep sigh of contentment, Jade leaned back against the massive trunk of the ancient oak. There was something very comforting and strengthening about its permanence. It had probably been there when soldiers of King Henry the Eighth had ridden to nearby Lewes and blown up the great Priory, which dominated the countryside for miles around. It would have been there when the excise men hanged Jack Carter on the village green, for indulging in the local pastime of smuggling. In this valley, designated an area of outstanding natural beauty and therefore protected by the law, the oak would probably stand for at least two more centuries before it began to decay. Sussex people might come and go, love, hate, cry or laugh, but the countryside shed its magic regardless, answerable only to the seasons and defying man's puny efforts to destroy it.
Sitting here, or in the branches of the oak, had always put a different perspective on Jade's troubles. Life was meant for living and looking ahead, not for wistful thinking. And it was here that she came to persuade herself that Dane King meant nothing to her, nothing at all.
She had reached a stage in her writing where she could no longer continue without referring to the books in the manor. Knowing she needed a little time to consider the best way to approach Dane, she was using that time profitably by sketching features she wanted to include in her book. So she sat working, with the clear sky overhead and a slight breeze wafting the scent of wild honeysuckle towards her. The view across the Ouse valley was superlative; the groves in the skyline on Mount Caburn indicating clearly its ancient ditch and ramparts; the foreground taken up with interlacing brooks.
It was mid-morning and a few hikers had walked past, stopping to chat and admire her sketch, otherwise she was alone—if you didn't count the birds who were filling the air with a torrent of song.
Polly's tail began to wag and then she quietly left her position just behind Jade and went to welcome the man who appeared out of the wood. Engrossed in sketching, Jade didn't notice and the man didn't disturb her, but sat a few feet above and watched intently.
She froze, her pencil held in mid-air. A kingfisher sat on a nearby branch, its elongated head craning over the brook. Then, in a brilliant streak of iridescent turquoise, it had dived and returned with a small silver minnow wriggling in its beak. Jade was amazed at Polly's self-control, but didn't dare to turn and see why she was so quiet, till the kingfisher flew off, startled by a shout from a distant walker.
And as she turned her neck prickled, knowing someone was there, so she was half-prepared for the sight of Dane, sitting with one hand over Polly's muzzle, the other on her back holding her down.
'Oh, it's you. I wondered why she wasn't whining with frustrated excitement,' said Jade casually as Dane released the retriever and came down to sit beside her.
'I used to watch kingfishers on my father's farm. We had dogs, too, and they always appeared at the wrong moment,' he explained.
'Farm? You are the son of a farmer?'
He laughed at the look on her face. 'I certainly am.
You look shocked. My family have farmed for the last few hundred years.'
'But not you.' He wasn't the type, of course, she thought.
'My father sold up and went to live in the Algarve for health reasons,' he said quietly. 'I go and visit them as often as I can and take back-numbers of Farmer's World. I'm steeped in the life—that's why I love it here. I have the best of both worlds. The excitement and pace of London, its concerts and exhibitions, the immediate feed-back from publishers, and the peace and quiet, the closeness with my roots.'
'You feel like that?' She could hardly credit it. If ever a man had a split personally, it was Dane King!
'Very deeply,' he said, watching her carefully. 'I think I have the same reaction to this beautiful countryside as you.'
'Oh!' Jade struggled with the temptation to give in to her instincts to like him. He was beginning to sound too much like the sort of man who would suit her, but he was morally flawed.
She returned to her sketch, knowing that she was making unnecessary marks on the paper.
'I actually came looking for you,' he said. 'This wasn't an accidental meeting. Billy said he thought you were somewhere on this patch.'
Making a mental note to glare at Billy next time she saw him, she let her irritation show.
'Well, you've found me. What is it?'
'I had a phone call about the marquee you ordered for the Garland Day. There seems to be a problem. They rang the manor because that's apparently where all the arrangements are normally made from.'
It was what Jade had feared; she couldn't put off involving Dane any longer.
'Oh, dear. Yes, I should have done something about that. Whoever owns the manor plays a leading part in all of the organisation.'
'Thanks for telling me,' she said sarcastically.
'You're welcome.'
'Are you also going to tell me what I have to do, or by being Lord of the Manor is there some kind of Divine Inspiration?' he asked testily.
Abandoning her sketch, she tucked her knees under the golden print skirt and hugged them to her chest. Perhaps she could persuade someone else to attend their preliminary meetings, too.
'We have to get together for some of the arrangements. The idea is that I am to guide you through this year's events and you run it next year.'
'Hell!' His hand thrust impatiently through his hair, making black curls drop on to his forehead, just like the day she first saw him. A pang went through Jade.
'No, I'm not too keen on the idea either, but I'm sure we can manage to be civilised about it all for the sake of the village,' she said quietly.
'Yes, I suppose so. Isn't it a bit late to be starting now?'
'I've already made the major bookings,' she said, a little shame-faced. 'I didn't want to involve you at that stage.'
'I see. But… I'll have to fit our meetings in with my work. After dinner would suit me best.'
'Oh! I thought we'd sort things out in my house,' said Jade, disliking his suggestion. She wanted to be on her own home ground.
'On my land, on my terms, or not at all,' he said curtly. 'I have to be on call, near my own phone.'
'After dinner?' Her brows rose in query. 'No one's going to ring you then.'
'I run an international organisation. Problems come in at all hours of the day or night.'
'That must be inconvenient at times,' murmured Jade.
He shot her a suspicious glance. 'It is. And while we're on the subject, you might tell me what I can do about the fantails. They wake us up at the crack of dawn, tapping their beaks on the window.'
Jade laughed, imagining the scenario and how his woman must hate being woken. That must interfere with his early morning antics!
'Try a banquet,' she said callously.
'What?' He frowned. 'You mean send them invitations?' he asked with heavy sarcasm.
'No. Serve them up as dish of the day.'
Dane seemed to be considering the idea seriously, and a flicker of alarm went through Jade's head. He could be irritated enough with having his sleep disturbed. Or maybe he had been in the middle… She bit her lip and passed that one by, but not before thinking of his potential wrath if his smooth technique was ruined! He might kill off the birds in revenge!
'I could hold a medieval pageant,' he said slowly, seeing the possibilities. 'With a theme. That would mean bird's nest soup as a starter. Any ideas for pudding?'
'You're kidding,' she accused, deciding not to suggest chocolate eggs. He looked rather forbidding suddenly.
'Yes. I am. Now how about some sensible help?' he said tightly.
'Go to bed earlier and get up when they do.'
'No point in the former,' he growled. 'I spend half the night awake as it is. And I'm damned if I'm getting up at five-thirty!'
Angrily disturbed by visions of him and his live-in lover writhing naked in her big four-poster, Jade found that her composure was cracking.
Her body had tensed at his words, and she made a conscious effort to relax all her muscles.
'Are they hatching eggs?' she asked.
'Yes. Do you think I'm not feeding them enough?'
'It's not that. One bird will be sitting on the nest and might not be around at feeding time. Or you could be losing grain to the sparrows and so on. It's the cock birds who'll be hungry because they do the day shift.'
'You're joking!' he cried. 'I had no idea pigeons were involved in demarcation rules.'
Jade smiled faintly. 'I suggest you throw out more food in the meantime and get yourself a permanent food hooper.'
'Thank you,' he said gratefully. 'I'll try that. What about this marquee?'
'Oh, heavens! I'd forgotten that! It's vital. If there's a problem, the whole show falls apart! I'd better sort that out now.'
She began to gather up her things and he rose with her.
'I'm working at home today, as you can see. Why not come to the manor and make your call and we can have our first meeting? I can begin to understand what the hell I'm supposed to be doing. We could work through the arrangements if you're not busy.'
Jade walked along the riverbank, thinking furiously. A good full day explaining might be reduce the number of late evening meetings.
'All right,' she said slowly, then her face brightened. She'd kill two birds with one stone. If she had to be at the manor, then she might as well use its facilities. 'We'll do it your way. But since I'm doing you a favour, I want one in exchange. I'd like to use the library whenever I want.'
'What for?'
'I'm writing and illustrating a book on the local history,' she said, expecting his scorn.
'Are you?' he said slowly, sounding interested. 'How far have you got? Past the planning stage?'
'I'm up to the medieval period. I've written about forty thousand words,' she said with conscious pride. 'Can I use the library?'
'Not whenever you fancy. Check with me first. It could be in use already.'
'The woman who's staying with you?' she asked lightly, her throat dry and her heart pumping like mad.
'Yes,' he said curtly. 'She has priority. But apart from that, I see no reason why you can't work in there.'
