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by Unknown

  'I see.' Rachel's tongue circled her upper lip. 'But— couldn't I return to the vicarage, then?'

  'I wouldn't advise it.' The doctor was concerned. 'My dear Mrs Conroy, my reasons for letting Nurse Douglas go are as I have stated: because you are being adequately cared for here. I can hardly endorse your returning to your uncle's home, when by his own admission his wife has more than enough to do already.'

  Rachel hesitated, wondering who had told him that. She could guess, but what she couldn't understand was why Matthew seemed to be compelling her to stay. Even so, she couldn't deny it was something of a relief not to have to face the prospect of meeting Aunt Maggie's recriminations until she felt stronger.

  Meanwhile, her friendship with Rosemary blossomed. In spite of the fact that Matthew, and his mother, were unaware of the relationship, Rachel couldn't find it in her heart to send the little girl away. Besides, she consoled her conscience, they were doing no harm. And if her company made this transitionary period easier for the child, surely no one should complain?

  In consequence, she became accustomed to Rosemary's appearing in her room every morning, ready and willing to escort her new-found friend on expeditions about the estate. She didn't know what Rosemary told Agnetha, or where the au pair thought she was. But for Rachel herself they were voyages of rediscovery, as she became reacquainted with tire memories of her past.

  Of course, there was a bittersweet quality to her memories, and it wasn't always easy to dissociate them from the feelings she had shared with Matthew. But she knew she might never have another chance to explore the sometimes painfully familiar woods and gardens of Rothmere, and she drank in the sights and sounds she saw like a prisoner who was soon to be cut off from them forever.

  The weather had continued to be warm and dry, as if making its own contribution to her recovery, and she and Rosemary spent a lot of time down at the lake. Rachel half wished they could take one of the small dinghies they found in the boat-house out on to the water, but it was years since she had sailed with Matthew, and she dared not take that responsibility.

  However, it was appropriate that when Matthew found them it should be down at the jetty. They were sitting on the wooden boards, legs dangling over the water, trailing a line that Jim Ryan had given them in the hope that they might catch something. Not that it was likely, of course, and they had already agreed that if they did by some miracle catch a fish they would throw it back, but it was sufficiently absorbing an occupation for them not to be aware of anyone's approach until they felt the vibration of his footsteps on the planks.

  'Um—Daddy!' exclaimed Rosemary in some alarm, scrambling to her feet with alacrity. 'What are you doing here?

  Grandmama said --------- '

  She broke off at that point, belatedly realising how incriminating her words had been, and Rachel sighed. Until that moment she had remained where she was, refusing to allow Matthew's appearance to panic her into a display of the trepidation she was feeling, but now she felt obliged to get to her feet. It was her fault that Rosemary was here, and she was the one to be blamed.

  'And what did Grandmama say?' Matthew was asking now, his lean frame propped against the wall of the boat-house, and Rachel's prepared response faltered in the face of the indulgence of his tone. He didn't look angry, she thought doubtfully, and he didn't sound angry. But could she trust his expression after the way he had behaved before?

  'I—well—she said you had an—an appointment in— in town,' Rosemary stammered in reply. 'I—I have been doing some reading, honestly. Only—only Rachel needed some company, and—and I offered to show her around.'

  'I see.'

  Matthew's arms were folded, and he inclined his head, as if considering her explanation. He was dressed more formally today, Rachel noticed unwillingly. His dark blue suit of fine wool accentuated the width of his broad shoulders, and the narrow trousers enhanced his height and the muscled length of his legs. He looked as if he was indeed equipped for a business meeting in the city, and she wondered what had brought him here, so far off his usual route.

  'I should say that what Rosemary says is true,' Rachel offered now, as the pregnant silence stretched. 'She— I—we have spent some time together. I'm sorry, if you don't approve, but I have been grateful for her company.'

  'Did I say I didn't approve?' Matthew countered, lifting his head and looking at her with cool, appraising eyes.

  'No, but...' Rachel thrust her hands into the back pockets of her jeans to hide their trembling uncertainty. 'I can't imagine any other reason why you might have come looking for us. Did—did Mr Ryan tell you where we were?'

  Matthew regarded her steadily for a moment, and then he straightened and pushed his own hands into the pockets of his jacket. 'I didn't need anyone to tell me where you were,' he replied, turning his attention to the water. 'I've known what was going on for several days

  '

  'You have?' Rosemary interrupted them, her eyes wide. 'Did Grandmama --------------- '

  'As far as I know, your grandmother still thinks you spend every morning reading with Agnetha,' retorted Matthew flatly.

  'But if you think she was prepared to take the responsibility for your absence, you're very much mistaken.'

  Rosemary's jaw dropped. 'Agnetha told you?'

  'Who else?'

  'The mean thing ----- '

  'It is her job,' replied Matthew reprovingly. 'Look, don't blame Agnetha. I didn't stop you, did I? You're still here.'

  Rachel moistened her dry lips. 'Does that mean you have no objections to Rosemary and I spending time together, then?' she asked evenly. 'You must appreciate this is quite a surprise, after—after-----'

  'After the way I behaved before, I know.' Matthew's mouth thinned. 'But I had plenty of time to regret my actions, didn't I?

  And, contrary to popular belief, I don't get any pleasure out of hurting people.'

  Their eyes met, and held, and this time it was Rachel who looked away. 'Well,' she said evenly, 'that's all right, then, isn't it?' She gave the little girl an encouraging look. 'Because we've become good friends, haven't we?'

  Rosemary smiled. 'Yes. Yes, that's right, Daddy,' she agreed eagerly, obviously relieved at this unexpected turn of events. 'So you won't tell Grandmama, will you? I mean, she doesn't like Rachel, and she'd never understand.'

  Matthew turned to his. daughter. 'Did she say that?

  Grandmama, I mean. That she didn't like Rachel?' His eyes were intent.

  'Well...' Rosemary looked a little uneasy now. 'Maybe not, exactly. But it's obvious, isn't it? You should hear the way she speaks to her!'

  Rachel looked surprised now, and a frown drew Matthew's eyebrows together. 'What did you say?' he exclaimed. 'What have you heard your grandmother say that I haven't?'

  Rosemary's face turned red. 'Not a lot,' she said, evidently regretting her impulsive outburst, but her father was not prepared to leave it there.

  'Come on,' he invited, his tone hardening as he spoke. 'I'm waiting to hear how this revelation came about.'

  'Oh, Daddy.' Rosemary looked utterly deflated now, and although Rachel felt sorry for her there was little she could do.

  'It was just something I overheard Grandmama say when she went to visit Rachel when she was ill. You know how—how

  cold Grandmama can be.'

  'I still don't understand how you heard what was said between Rachel and your grandmother,' replied Matthew tersely.

  'Were you there?'

  'No.' Rosemary hunched her shoulders. 'Not exactly.'

  'What does that mean?'

  'Oh, Daddy!' 'Rosemary.'

  'Oh, all right.' She flung her hands out in front of her. 'I heard what she said as I was leaving.'

  'You mean you eavesdropped outside the door,' amended her father shrewdly. 'Isn't that right? Isn't that what you did?'

  'Lady Olivia was talking before Rosemary left the room,'

  Rachel put in quickly, trying to remember exactly what Matthew's mother had sai
d. She had certainly brought up the subject of Rachel's not being prepared to have her son's baby, and she hoped Rosemary hadn't heard this, or, if she had, that she hadn't understood it.

  Matthew's attention shifted. 'So,' he said, making an evident effort to control his impatience, 'you agree with Rosemary's assessment of my mother's attitude?'

  'I didn't say that.' Rachel sighed. How quick he was to jump to conclusions. 'Matthew, you know as well as I do that your mother didn't want me here. If the child's picked that up, too, can you blame her?'

  Matthew looked as if he was about to say something scathing, and then seemed to change his mind. With an obvious effort, he forced himself to relax, and both Rachel and Rosemary breathed a little more easily as he turned once more to rest his shoulder against the boat- house. 'OK,' he said, staring out across the water. 'I won't tell my mother what's been going on-------'

  'Oh, Daddy! Thank your

  Without waiting for him to finish, Rosemary covered the space between them and wrapped her thin arms around his waist. And, looking at Matthew over his daughter's head, Rachel thought he was as surprised as she was at this unexpected display. Evidently embraces of this kind were not a common thing between them.

  But Matthew's initial response was in the same spirit at least, even if the verbal response that followed was not what Rosemary had expected. His arms automatically closed about his daughter, hugging her to him warmly, and, watching them together, Rachel knew a treacherous feeling of envy. He should still have been her husband, and this should have been their daughter, she reflected bitterly, unable to tear her eyes away. Or their son, she amended, as remembrance knifed inside her.

  'I want you to tell her.'

  Matthew's words brought her abruptly back to the present, and she blinked a little confusedly herself as Rosemary uttered a disbelieving cry. 'You don't mean that!'

  'I do.' Matthew held her, as she would have pulled away from him. 'I want you to tell Grandmama that you and Rachel are friends, and that I have no objections to your spending your free time with her.'

  Rosemary's instinctive denial faltered. 'You mean you'll tell her you knew about what was going on?'

  'I mean I won't tell her I didn't,' amended Matthew drily. 'But in future I want you to come to me if you have any—problem with Grandmama. I want us—you and me—to be like a family again.'

  Rosemary's lips quivered. 'Do you mean that?'

  'I've just said so, haven't I?'

  'And—and what about

  ' she was obviously loath

  to say it, but she eventually got the words out '—going to boarding-school?'

  Matthew looked across at Rachel, holding her eyes as he spoke. 'It's early days yet,' he said. 'We'll see how you behave over the next couple of months. I may revise my opinion and send you to a girl's day-school I know in Keswick. It's where your cousin Lucy goes, and she seems to like it.'

  »

  Rosemary gulped. 'And would I be a day girl, too?'

  'If you behave yourself, I don't see why not,' replied her father, looking down at her now. 'But only if I hear no more reports of naughtiness from Agnetha. Or your grandmother either, if it comes to that.'

  'You won't.' Rosemary was almost speechless. She caught back a sob. 'Can I go and tell Mrs Moffat?'

  'Why not?'

  Matthew smiled, and after another swift hug Rosemary released herself. 'Did you hear that?' she asked, turning to Rachel as she brushed an errant tear from her cheek. 'I'm going to go to Lucy's school. Daddy's not going to send me to boarding-school, after all.'

  'That's wonderful news,' said Rachel warmly, despising herself for envying the child. If only her problems could be as easily solved as Rosemary's. Unfortunately, she didn't have anyone fighting on her side—least of all Matthew.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THERE was a distinct silence after Rosemary left them, and Rachel turned to watch the child's skipping departure to avoid Matthew's subjective gaze. She supposed she ought to have accompanied her, but Rosemary was obviously eager to get back to the house, and Rachel would have been an unnecessary encumbrance. All the same, it was difficult to know what to say now, and although she wanted to express her approbation at his decision she doubted he would be interested in hearing it.

  'You approve, I take it,' he said at last, and now she was compelled to turn and face him.

  'Of course,' she replied, lifting her shoulders in an expressive gesture. 'It's—it's what she needed; your— your belief in her.'

  Matthew inclined his head. 'You think I didn't believe in her before, is that it?'

  Rachel sighed. 'I don't know. I only know that—well, you didn't seem to have a lot of time for her be—before.'

  'Before what?' Matthew moved nearer to her. 'Before Barbara died? Or before you came here?'

  Rachel stood her ground. 'I don't flatter myself that my coming here had anything to do with it,' she declared, meeting his gaze with an effort. 'Maybe—maybe Barbara's illness obscured --------------------- '

  'Barbara's illness didn't obscure anything,' retorted Matthew tautly. 'You could say it clarified a lot of things.' He didn't explain what he meant by this, but went on, 'My—relationship with Rosemary was in trouble long before Barbara was taken ill.' He shook his head. 'I'd almost forgotten what it was like to have a daughter.'

  'You're very lucky to have her.' Rachel took a steadying breath. 'She's a very loyal little girl.'

  'Do you think so?' Matthew seemed to be considering this.

  He took another step towards her. 'But you didn't like her much when you first met her, did you?'

  Rachel sighed, and glanced behind her, grimacing at the dark expanse of water only a couple of feet away at the end of the jetty. Of all places to conduct a conversation, this must be the most unsuitable, she thought frustratedly. With Matthew between her and the shore, she was virtually his prisoner.

  'Look, I've revised my opinion,' sue said, edging alongside the boat-house. 'And I really am glad you've changed your mind about a boarding-school. I—I'm sure Barbara would have approved -------------------------- '

  'Barbara didn't give a damn what happened to Rosemary,'

  Matthew retorted harshly, putting out his arm and successfully blocking her exit. 'I thought you'd have realised that. Or did you think I was totally to blame for her irresponsibility?'

  Rachel caught her breath. He was so close, and she wondered if he was aware of how much she was aware of him.

  He couldn't be, or he wouldn't be behaving like this, she thought unsteadily. Not after the way he had repelled any emotion between them the last time he had seen her. As she had wanted him to do, she reminded herself starkly. Dear God, just because the warmth and scent of his lean body was shudderingly familiar, there was no reason for her to lose sight of all reality...

  'Will you let me pass?' she said now, forgetting for the moment that he had asked her a question, and he expelled a heavy breath.

  'What's the matter?' he asked. 'Don't you want to believe that I'm not the unfeeling monster you've always painted me? Does it put a grain of doubt in your mind if I remind you that you were the one who used to tell me that Barbara could be both devious and self- motivating?'

  'Stop it!' Rachel was forced to look up at him now, and she shivered at the look of weary resignation in his eyes. 'Barbara's been dead only three weeks! How can you talk about her like this?'

  'Quite easily,' he said flatly, using his free hand to tuck a silken strand of honey-blonde hair behind her ear. His hand lingered against her flesh, and it was all she could do not to tilt her head against the hard brush of his fingers. 'You see, I never loved Barbara, and she certainly didn't love me. What I could give her, perhaps, but nothing else '

  'Don't!' Rachel pushed his hand away and tried to duck under his arm. But his arm dropped as she did, and instead of escaping him she was backed up against the warm wood of the boat-house wall. 'Matthew, you're going to regret this!'

  'I regret it already,' he retorted
, looking down at her with impassioned eyes. 'But I have to go to Geneva this afternoon, and I'm very much afraid you'll be gone by the time I get back.'

  Rachel swallowed. 'You're going to be away for a few days?'

  'Until next Tuesday or Wednesday, at the least,' he agreed, capturing her chin between his fingers. 'And while I was succeeding in convincing myself that I could let you leave here without making a fool of myself for a second time, I find that now there's an actual deadline to our separation I can't do it.'

  'Matthew ------ '

  'No, listen to me,' he muttered, bending his head and putting his mouth against the side of her neck. 'I want you to know I don't blame you for what happened '

  'Blame me?'

  The terrible inertia that had been stealing over her at the touch of his lips was abruptly banished. That he should actually believe that she might welcome his advances was bad enough, but to suggest that she might blame herself for what had happened in the past was mortifying.

  'Yes,' he was intoning now, his hand at her nape causing unwanted ripples of sensuality to invade her spine. 'For years I have blamed you. For years I swore that if I ever saw you again, I'd kill you! But although you might believe you can control your mind, you can never completely control your senses, and as soon as I saw you again I knew I'd been fooling myself all along

  ---------- '

  'Let go of me!' With a concerted effort, Rachel tore herself away from him, putting an arm's length between them, and staring at him with angry, disbelieving eyes. 'Don't touch me!

  Do you hear me? Don't you ever lay a hand on me again!' She caught back a sob. 'You say you don't blame me! My God, am I supposed to be grateful for that? What have you got to blame me for, that's what I'd like to know! I didn't do anything. You did!

  Do you need me to remind you what you did? Do you want me to tell you how I felt when I found you and Barbara— my own cousin!—together?'