Impetuous Masquerade

by Anne Mather

  ‘I don’t need your help,’ he snarled, gripping Rhia’s wrist. ‘Val can help me. Val knows what I need. And it’s not the continual reminder of my—helplessness.’

  He used a word Rhia had seldom heard used before, but Jared was not offended. ‘Val’s too tired to run after you tonight, Glyn,’ he declared expressionlessly. His eyes met and held Rhia’s defensive ones. ‘Aren’t you, Val?’

  ‘Well—’ Rhia moistened her lips. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You don’t have to say that.’ Glyn turned back to her. ‘Val, just because Jared’s master here, it doesn’t mean we can’t do what we want. He knows about us, for heaven’s sake! He’s not a prude.’ His lips twisted. ‘How could he be? In the circumstances!’

  ‘That’s enough, Glyn.’ For the first time there was an edge to Jared’s voice as he spoke to his nephew, but conversely, Rhia knew a ridiculous desire to thwart him. What was he really doing here? she wondered. Was his offer to help Glyn a genuine one, or was he in effect preventing any intimacy between Glyn and herself? He was not jealous—she was not conceited enough to imagine that. But he might—he just might—enjoy exercising his power over them.

  ‘I’m not—that—tired,’ she murmured tensely. ‘Perhaps I could—’

  ‘No,’ said Jared flatly and distinctly. ‘Go to bed—Val! There’ll be plenty of time for you and Glyn to renew your association. But not tonight.’

  Rhia expected Glyn to argue, but perhaps understandably now, he was looking exhausted. ‘Yes,’ he said wearily, ‘Jared’s right—I am a selfish brute. Go to bed, love. We’ve got lots of time.’

  Now, as Rhia pushed back the silk sheets and put her feet out of bed, she knew a moment’s gratitude for Jared’s intervention, for whatever reason. She must have been crazy to think she could thwart him in that way. Glyn had only to touch her hair to know she was not Val, and all the good her presence here was doing would be erased in the space of a few reckless seconds.

  Of Jared himself she did not want to think. He had behaved abominably, and he must know that, too, or he would not have ignored her for the rest of the evening. Dear God, she thought unsteadily, she had come here determined to steer clear of Jared Frazer, but within a couple of hours of entering his house, she had betrayed everything she believed in. She was not a wanton, but he made her behave like one, and no doubt he now had as little respect for her as he had for her sister. It wasn’t fair. She was not like Val. She had never felt the slightest urge to sleep with any man before. But it was terrifying to realise that such thoughts were entering her head, when hitherto her emotions had been securely under control.

  Presently, however, she had other things to occupy her unruly thoughts, and as her feet encountered the deep soft pile of the carpet, a thrill of excitement swept over her. She was here, in Canada, thousands of miles from her routine existence in England, and at the start of a holiday which by any standards promised not to be dull.

  In spite of the fact that her room was chilly in the early morning air, Rhia didn’t stop to put on a dressing gown before padding barefoot across to the windows and flinging back the curtains. She couldn’t wait to see Moose Falls in daylight, and her first view of the Frazer ranch was not disappointing.

  Her rooms were situated at the side of the house, and the view from her windows was spectacular. Acres and acres of lush pastureland stretched to an horizon that was defined by the vaguely insubstantial slopes that disappeared into a shifting band of cloud. Despite their obvious existence, the mountains looked faintly unreal in that shimmering shroud, and the sun tinging the lower slopes with palest yellow gave them an ethereal beauty. She had read somewhere that a man could be enthralled by mountains, and in her first glimpse she experienced a strange sensation of exhilaration. They looked so wild and untameable, and as the cloud drifted to expose a snow-capped peak, she acknowledged their danger, too.

  Below her windows, the activities closer at hand attracted her attention. Now she could see the paddocks where a handful of horses cropped the grass, and a foal on spindly legs tottered inelegantly after its mother. The buildings they had driven through the night before were partially hidden by a belt of trees, but Rhia could see two men already at work painting the picket fence that edged the drive. She guessed the men’s quarters were situated sufficiently far from the house not to invade the owner’s privacy, but she could hear their voices on the still morning air.

  Of the cattle which Glyn had informed her his uncle bred there was no sign, and she could only assume they had been brought in for milking. Perhaps one of the buildings she could see was a milking shed, she decided, wondering how many head of cattle it took to supply the ranch’s needs.

  At last the goose-bumps on her flesh forced her to leave the window, and she eyed the bed longingly, wondering whether she should get back in. But a glance at her watch told her that it was nearly half past seven, and although it was still early, she felt ravenous. Of course, back home she would have had lunch by now, she reflected wryly, and rubbing her arms to remove the chill, she went into the bathroom.

  A hot shower and a brisk towel removed the shivery feeling, and pushing aside the memory of Jared’s visit to her room the night before, she rummaged about in her cases for something to wear. Jeans seemed the most likely item, and after pulling on a cotton shirt, she added a cowl-necked purple sweater. Then, after tying on a pair of denim track shoes, she left her room.

  It wasn’t difficult to find her way downstairs. She simply remembered to turn left out of her room, and follow the corridor to the wide landing above the hall below. The corridor was thickly carpeted, and her feet made no sound, but now that she was out of her room she could hear voices from the floor below. She thought she recognised Maria’s shriller tones, and a man’s voice which could have been Jared’s but wasn’t.

  ‘I’ve got no sympathy for you,’ she heard Maria re-marking peevishly as she descended the stairs, and the gruff response of:

  ‘I don’t expect any from you, woman. Just get me some coffee, will you, and stop gabbing. Jared says I’ve got to ride out with him this morning.’

  Rhia’s steps slowed as she neared the foot of the staircase, and she saw a tall if somewhat round-shouldered man leaning on the mantel above the fireplace. Already a warming blaze burned in the grate, and the appetising aroma of coffee and cooked meat scented the air. To her dismay there was no sign of Maria now, but the man seemed to sense her presence and turned to look at her.

  She guessed this must be Jared’s father, although the resemblance between them was not immediately evident. He was tall, like Jared, but broader and less muscular, the swelling girth of his stomach indicating that he enjoyed a less active existence. His face was leathery brown, and etched with a dozen different lines, but his eyes belied the bitterness that drew down the corners of his mouth.

  ‘Well, well,’ he observed, removing his arm from the mantelshelf. ‘You must be Valentina, is that right? Come along down, girl. Don’t be shy. I don’t bite.’

  Rhia hesitated only a moment before advancing the few steps that brought her down to his level, and straightening her shoulders, came towards him with hand out-stretched.

  ‘How do you do?’ she said, endeavouring to sound as confident as she looked. ‘I—er—I’m Val. You must be—’

  ‘Ben,’ the man finished for her. ‘Ben Frazer.’ He took her hand in his gnarled one. ‘Glad to meet you—Val. Glyn’s told us a lot about you.’

  ‘He has?’ Rhia was surprised. When had he had the time?

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Ben Frazer patted her hand firmly before letting it go. ‘He used to write, you know, before this trouble with his eyes. A bad business. Lucky you weren’t hurt, too.’

  ‘Y-yes.’ Rhia caught her lower lip between her teeth.

  ‘Sleep well?’

  He switched the conversation adroitly, and she was relieved, glad to be back on surer ground. ‘Very well,’ she assured him warmly. ‘I’ve never slept in such a huge bed before.’

  ‘Have
n’t you?’ Ben Frazer regarded her with slightly bloodshot eyes. ‘Well, where’s Glyn? Don’t tell me he’s still in bed.’

  ‘Why not?’ Maria spoke as she came into the room, carrying a tray containing a pot of coffee. ‘It’s where you’d be, if Jared hadn’t insisted you show your face at a decent hour.’ She snorted, including Rhia in her grimace of resignation. ‘Do you know, that man’s been out of this house since five-thirty this morning? He’ll have done a day’s work before he comes back for you!’

  Ben pulled a face at the Indian woman. ‘We can’t all be saints, you old reprobate,’ he grumbled, approaching the table where she had set the tray, and helping himself to some coffee. ‘Want some?’ he asked, raising his cup to Rhia, and she glanced at Maria, unsure of how this would be received.

  ‘Go ahead.’ The other woman gestured goodnaturedly. ‘I’m just making some pancakes. You want to come and try some?’

  ‘Could I?’ Rhia’s stomach reacted to this news with a decidedly hollow gurgle, and Maria laughed.

  ‘Come along, then. After you’ve had your coffee. Just follow your nose.’

  After she had gone, Ben handed her a mug of coffee, his hand just a little unsteady as it touched hers. ‘Sorry I wasn’t around to greet you yesterday evening,’ he remarked. ‘Not too well. Must have been something I ate.’

  Rhia nodded, determined not to get into a discussion about that, and Ben gestured to one of the soft couches.

  ‘Sit down, why don’t you?’ he invited. He patted his thigh. ‘Easier for me to stand. Got this stiffness in my leg—shrapnel wound, during the last war. Never have gotten over it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Rhia took his advice and seated herself. Then, sipping her coffee, she added: ‘I suppose you find it difficult to ride.’

  ‘He finds everything difficult,’ retorted a laconic voice behind her, and she glanced round apprehensively to find Jared strolling into the hall. His eyes flickered briefly over her before settling on his father. ‘Well, at least you’re ready. That’s something to be thankful for.’

  Ben snorted. ‘Don’t think I’ve got up because of anything you said, boy!’ he declared, and Rhia thought how odd it was to hear Jared addressed as ‘boy’. ‘No, I—er—I wanted to meet Val, here. I was just telling her, I was sorry I wasn’t here to meet her last evening.’

  ‘Were you?’ Jared’s tone was cynical. ‘Ah, well, I see you’ve remedied that deficiency now.’ His eyes switched disconcertingly to Rhia. ‘Did you find your room comfortable?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Yes, very comfortable.’ Rhia was glad of the mug of coffee to use as a barrier between them. Even though they had exchanged those few words after supper the previous evening, she was still on her guard with him, and it wasn’t easy to ignore someone who was watching you so closely.

  Not that this morning Jared looked much like the man she had become used to seeing. Gone was the sleek three-piece suit, and the fine silk shirt he normally wore. Now he was dressed like the men she had seen from her window—thigh-hugging denim replacing fine wool and mohair, the black leather jerkin, that sat so well on his shoulders, worn over a coarse shirt tied with leather thongs. The cuffs of his jeans revealed heavy boots, and Rhia thought she would not have been surprised to hear spurs jingling on his heels. He even had a hat, but he was not wearing it at present, and it hung lazily from his lean brown fingers.

  ‘Val says she’s never slept in such a huge bed before,’ Ben remarked, finishing his coffee with a flourish. Then, turning to her, he went on: ‘Y’know, Jared’s always complaining when he visits England, that the beds there aren’t big enough. Seems to me, it depends whose bed you’re sleeping in.’

  Rhia flushed, and as if taking pity on her, Jared intervened. ‘You’d be something of a connoisseur, Pa, wouldn’t you?’ he remarked sardonically, and as the older man started to protest, he added: ‘Are you ready? I don’t intend to stand around here all day.’

  Ben put down his mug and grimaced at Rhia. ‘I guess so. As ready as I’ll ever be, anyway. You planning on being out all day?’

  ‘I do have a lot of time to make up,’ retorted Jared briefly, flicking his stetson against his knee. ‘Now, do we go?’

  ‘What about Val?’ asked Ben peevishly. ‘What’s she going to do all day?’

  ‘Lisa and Glyn will look after—Val,’ declared Jared firmly, his eyes meeting Rhia’s briefly and then moving away again. ‘Stop playing for time. Horse is waiting for us.’

  ‘Horse!’ grumbled Ben, collecting his own stetson from where he had left it lying on the back of a chair. ‘I don’t like Horse. He don’t like me.’

  Rhia listened to this exchange with some amazement, and as Jared urged his father towards the door, he paused to explain: ‘Horse,’ he said, ‘is my ranch foreman. His real name’s Chief Running Horse, but he settles for the shorter handle.’

  Rhia’s lips parted. ‘He’s an Indian?’

  ‘Maria’s son,’ Jared informed her flatly. ‘But he stopped taking scalps months ago!’

  The door closed behind them before Rhia could make any cutting retort, and she got up from the couch, cradling her mug between her fingers. But, with Jared’s departure, and the knowledge that she was unlikely to see him until this evening the day had distinctly lost its sparkle, and despite a feeling of self-disgust she knew she had not succeeded in keeping him at bay.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RHIA had breakfast in the kitchen. She surprised herself by eating two of the enormous apple-filled pancakes Maria provided and served with maple syrup. She had not felt very hungry after Jared’s abrupt departure, but talking to Maria, she found the pangs of isolation dispersing.

  The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was built on the grand scale, but its atmosphere of warmth and the smell of good food made it seem smaller. Warm, brick-coloured tiles covered the floor and were matched along the walls between pinewood cupboards and copper-bottomed pans. There were all kinds of gadgets for cooking and preparing food, and Maria explained that she prepared all the meals, as well as dealing with the other members of the staff. She needed help around the house, she declared, because it was simply too big for one person to handle, but from what she told Rhia, it soon became apparent that Lisa Frazer played little part in household affairs.

  ‘Mrs Frazer’s not strong,’ remarked the Indian woman, offering Rhia more coffee. ‘Ever since Angus died, leaving her to bring up that boy alone, she’s come to depend more and more on Jared.’

  ‘Angus?’ Rhia shook her head to the coffee and frowned.

  ‘Jared’s brother. You’ve heard of him.’

  ‘Of course—Glyn’s father.’ Rhia nodded. ‘I’m sorry, I’m not very bright this morning.’

  Maria shrugged. ‘Your mind hasn’t caught up with your body, I guess. It soon will. Just you take it easy for a few days.’

  ‘I’m all right,’ Rhia smiled. ‘And if there’s anything I can do…’

  ‘To help me, you mean?’ Maria chuckled. ‘Bless you, no.’ Then she sobered. ‘You’re here to help Glyn get well and strong again. Please God, he gets his sight back soon.’

  ‘Amen,’ murmured Rhia fervently.

  ‘Not that he was ever any use around the spread,’ Maria added, turning back to the stove. ‘Seems like he couldn’t wait to get away. But I guess you know that—even if his mother would like to think different.’

  Rhia hesitated. ‘The ranch is—important to her?’

  Maria gave a strange look over her shoulder. ‘You might say that.’

  ‘I—I suppose it would have eventually passed to Glyn, if his father had lived.’

  ‘No.’ Maria shook her head. ‘Mac left the farm to Jared.’

  ‘Mac?’

  ‘Jared’s grandfather.’

  ‘I see.’ Rhia tried to understand this. ‘You call him Mac, but what was his name?’

  ‘Macdonald,’ declared Maria with a certain amount of pride. ‘Jared Macdonald!’

  ‘Then—he wasn’t Ben—I mean, Mr Frazer�
��s father.’

  ‘No. No.’ Maria shook her head. ‘He was Jared’s mother’s father—Miss Margaret.’ She smiled reminiscently. ‘Now there was a lady.’

  ‘You knew her?’

  ‘Heavens, yes. She brought me to Moose Falls. I was with her up until she died.’

  Rhia was beginning to understand. ‘And—and Mac: Mr Macdonald, that is, he must have cared for her a lot.’

  ‘That he did.’ Maria sighed regretfully. ‘He used to worship her. What with his wife—Miss Margaret’s mother, that was—dying soon after Miss Margaret was born, he devoted himself to his daughter.’

  ‘And—and his grandsons.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Maria did not sound so sure now. ‘He was happy enough when she married Ben Frazer, I guess, but I guess he was disappointed Ben never took more interest in the ranch. Ah well, Miss Margaret’s been dead these fifteen years, and Mac himself followed her ten years later.’

  Rhia absorbed what she had learned. It was obvious, though Maria was loath to admit as much, that Margaret Macdonald’s marriage to Ben Frazer had not been as happy as her father would have liked. Yet, after meeting him, Rhia could quite see that he might once have been an attractive man, before age—and perhaps bitterness—had etched those lines upon his face. Life must have been harder here, forty years ago, when roads had been rougher, and aeroplanes had not yet proved themselves reliable. A man like Ben Frazer would have found it hard. He did not strike her as being the stuff of which pioneers were made. But for all that, she liked him. He was human.

  ‘I think it’s about time I took Glyn up some breakfast, don’t you?’ Maria remarked, breaking into her reverie, and Rhia got quickly to her feet.

  ‘Let me,’ she exclaimed, glad she had thought to wear the wig this morning. Although she did not think Maria presented much threat, she was glad Ben Frazer had not seen her without it. Somehow she had the feeling he was the kind of man who might discuss her appearance with Glyn.

  ‘Well…’ Maria looked doubtful, but presently she smiled. ‘Why not? I guess he’d be happier to see your face any day than mine.’ She paused, a wry expression crossing her lined features. ‘Not that he’s seeing much at all, right now. Poor kid, my heart bleeds for him.’