by Corrie, Jane
Megan came out of her miserable musings. He wasn't even being brotherly now, but treating her as a nuisance he could have done without. Clearly he felt responsible for her. 'You'll do no such thing !' she rounded on him furiously. 'Leave me alone, Alain Drew ! I don't need your lectures or interference.
Between you and Iris I've just about had enough. For goodness' sake look after your own affairs and leave me alone !'
His eyes widened at her vehemence. 'And what has Iris been up to?' he asked mildly.
Megan flushed and looked away, wishing she had held her tongue. It was too late now. 'If you must know,' she said between clenched teeth, 'she thinks ...' she swallowed, 'she thinks I've got a thing about you.'
He threw back his head and laughed in pure enjoyment. Megan eyed him dispassionately. 'Go on,' she said, goaded beyond any reason. 'Have a good laugh. It is funny, isn't it? As if you and I could ever be linked that way.' As quickly as it had come, her fury left her and she started chuckling too. 'It's an absolute howler, isn't it ?' she managed to get out. 'Just imagining it's a mind-boggling proposition. I didn't think even Iris could have been that stupid.'
He sobered for a moment and cast her a look of comic hurt. 'Thank you for those kind words,' he said dryly. 'I now withdraw my suit. I shall follow my predecessor and join the Army.'
Megan blinked back the tears the laughter had brought to the surface. She didn't know Alain had known about John. 'You know,' she said, the laughter still lingering in her voice, 'you sound just like Ray.'
He gave her a sudden hard look, the amusement gone. 'We do seem to have wandered off the point,
don't we?' he demanded. 'I suppose it's no use asking you to leave ?'
Megan shook her head decisively. 'I need the money,' she murmured with twinkling eyes.
`I'm sure you do,' he said sardonically. 'Since when have you yearned for the gold stakes?'
Again Megan regretted her words. It was not easy fooling Alain, she was not used to having to watch her every word. She took refuge in gaiety. 'Well, a girl never knows, does she ? I mean, bottom drawer and all that bosh,' she said lightly.
He stared at her. 'You're not seriously considering Hallett ?' he demanded. 'He's years older than you are. Haven't you wondered why he suddenly bolted here ? He says he wants peace and quiet, but I'm not sure there's not more to it.' His voice grew gentle. `Watch your step, Tuppence. In all probability he's married, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt.'
Although Megan knew he was concerned about her, she still felt it unfair that Ray should have been condemned out of hand. 'You know nothing about him,' she said quietly. 'And I think it's unkind of you to pass judgment like that. You didn't even give him the benefit of the doubt last night, did you ? What would you say if I told you I'd engineered the whole thing?'
Again she noted his eyes widen in sudden surprise,
then they narrowed. 'If you did,' he said harshly, `then you ought to be whipped. I'm only sorry I came on the scene. You would have received the shock of your life. That type doesn't play around. You'd be a new experience for him, but don't expect me to pick up the pieces when your dream bubble bursts in your face. You're a little green girl, nowhere near his mettle. Go ahead and burn your fingers—you've got to learn some time, I suppose. Thank heaven I can now wash my hands of you! You've refused to take my advice and that's good enough for me.'
He strode off, leaving Megan staring after him. She had rarely seen him quite so put out. At least one thing had been accomplished, he would not interfere in her affairs again. He was a man of his word. Megan knew he had now left it up to her. Either she did as he wished or the friendship was over.
She caught her bottom lip to stop it trembling. She couldn't leave even if she wanted to, and she didn't want to; she was happy, apart from the much-needed cash angle.
She called Chas to heel and began the return journey. The happy mood she'd started out in had fled, leaving a miserably hollow feeling. Things would never be the same again. She was as positive about that as she had been about her father's affairs straightening out for the better.
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She had lost her big brother, and a warm comfortable feeling that he was always there in the background. She had to admit sadly that it was for the best. It had to happen sometime—when he married, for instance—she might as well get used to it now as later.
CHAPTER SIX
TWO weeks passed. Megan had no time to mope over her last meeting with Alain. True to his word, he had not attempted to seek her out. On several occasions while she walked Chas in the evening, she found herself hoping he would put in an appearance, yet she knew he would not. Ray had accompanied her on one or two occasions, and Megan knew the village was speculating on this new development and avidly watching points. She studiously avoided any get-together organised by the village's various committees, particularly if she knew Alain would be attending. She found she was much sought after to attend such functions and knew it was hoped Ray would accompany her.
Soon it would be harvest time, and the thought made her sad. It had always been a big occasion in the village—first the church service for the thanksgiving, then the harvest supper held at Clock House. Megan had always had a lot to do with these arrangements. Baskets of fruit and vegetables were made up, not only for the estate employees, but for the older folk of the village, a custom carried down from the ages
by Alain's family. One had to make certain that no one was left out, and this had been Megan's task. Iris would now take it on, she thought, and hoped she wouldn't act the Lady Bountiful when taking them round to the older folk, or there would be some sharp reactions.
On the Monday of the third week, a cablegram was received from the American publishers. The book had been accepted, contract to follow. Mr. Shaw handed it to Megan as soon as she walked in that evening, and she gave a whoop of joy. 'I knew it !' she cried. 'Ray said they would !'
After dinner Megan hastily cleared away and washed the dishes. When this was done, she called, 'I won't be long,' and got the car out, and headed for The Foxes. She couldn't wait until morning to tell Ray the good news and thank him.
When she got there she decided she would not use the key he had given her to let herself in in the mornings. He was not expecting her to call and she felt it would be presumptuous of her just to walk in. She rang the bell.
`Why didn't you use the key ?' asked Ray on seeing her. 'Come on in. I've ...'
Megan didn't let him finish. 'I'm not staying,' she said hastily. 'I just wanted to tell you Father's heard from the American firm, and they've accepted the book !' Her eyes shone. 'Oh, Ray, I could kiss you!'
she cried.
His eyes twinkled. 'What's stopping you, then ?' he said teasingly.
Megan grinned, 'You asked for it !' and reached up and kissed him on the cheek. Ray's arms came round her and he gave her a slight hug.
Drawing back from the embrace, Megan stiffened as she caught sight of someone standing behind Ray in the hall. It was Main. She felt her cheeks burn and wished she could sink through the floor. 'I must get going,' she said hastily. 'I haven't taken Chas out yet.'
The gears grated as she swept out of the drive. She could still see Ray's wicked grin and Alain's cold eyes. Heaven knew what he had thought of that little episode, she thought bitterly. What was he doing there anyway ? Ray's mention of a key made her cheeks start to burn again. Main wouldn't have missed that, she thought.
She had never ever called on Ray in the evening. When he accompanied her on her walk with Chas, he always collected her from her home, and the one evening she chose to visit him, Alain had to be there ! Why hadn't she seen his car? She would at least have had some warning, and shot off home again. Then she realised he would have entered the back of The Foxes, cutting the journey by going through the estate.
Well, it was done now, she thought wearily. She
wouldn't have had a thing like that happen for the worlds. So Alain had been unreasonable, but at le
ast he had thought enough of her to try and save her from herself, or so he thought. In her headlong rush to thank Ray she had unwittingly destroyed any hope of ever getting back to the familiar pattern of the past. He would not only be angry with her, but utterly disgusted as well.
As she let herself into the house much later that evening, after taking Chas out, her eye caught a slip of paper on the hall floor where it had landed through the letter-box. Picking it up, she frowned. There was no need to read beyond the first few words, she was well acquainted with this type of missive, in fact she had typed them out before now at previous harvest times. It was a general invitation to the harvest service and supper, slipped in letter-boxes so that no one felt excluded. Megan had usually done the rounds herself.
Her brow creased again. Who was doing it now? Whoever it was must be new to the village if they had bothered to deliver it here. Her presence was taken for granted. She shrugged, and crushed the slip up into a small ball and placed it in the waste bin.
Emerging from the study, her father asked, 'Did you see Alain ?'
Megan started. 'Did he call ?' she asked, feeling a
tiny hope spring up.
`No, he didn't,' answered her father. 'I must say I was a bit disappointed. I happened to glance out of the window when I heard the car. When he didn't come in but left almost immediately, I assumed he was looking for you.'
She answered lightly enough, in spite of her feelings. 'I suppose we missed each other,' she said casually. 'What with me working, and his affairs to catch up on, we don't see much of each other now.' She hoped this sounded plausible.
Mr. Shaw grunted. 'Even so,' he complained, 'he might have looked in, mightn't he ?' and he went back into the study.
Megan went to her room. She was extremely depressed. There was only one person who could have delivered that invitation. Alain.
She gazed out of the window towards a clump of pines in the distance, the start of Alain's land. Slowly the sadness faded and a glint appeared in her eye. Of all the rotten things to do ! Treating her as a complete stranger ! For that was what those slips were for. People new to the village, or others who did not usually participate in local affairs. Considering the amount of help she usually gave at that function, it amounted to a direct snub. It was his way of saying, you are welcome to come but don't expect any preferential treatment. It was also a way of saying her
help would not be required that year. Which was just as well, she fumed, because she didn't intend to give any !
She shook her head. What on earth had got into him? This was not the Alain she had once known. Iris was probably giving him a bad time. She couldn't help hearing the veiled remarks here and there in the village that his temper was none too sweet these days.
She hadn't known it until that moment, that she had been counting on the harvest supper to make things come right between them. It had-always been a time of great happiness for her, and for Alain too —the culmination of a year's work. The hectic rush to get the corn harvested. The smell of the newly-reaped fields after the rain had fallen. The simple but sincere service in the old church, and finally the supper. Clock House bedecked with the huge arrangements of the floral art Mrs. Smith was so good at. The bright gleam of dark oak furniture. Megan had always felt close to the land, and suspected she must have come from farming stock from way back. She seemed to understand so much, and had no idea where her knowledge had come from. She had once asked her father about this, but as usual he was enveloped in the book he was working on and answered her with a vague, 'Your mother used to talk of her grandparents, I believe they were of
farming stock.'
Megan pulled herself back from her musings. She would not attend the supper. Alain had outlined his feelings by pushing that slip in the letter-box. She would outline hers by not attending.
The following morning on the way to work, it occurred to her that Ray had probably received a backlash himself from Alain. She had been too immersed in her own miseries to think about this, and felt contrite.
`I suppose I got you into trouble again last night,' she said as soon as she saw him. 'I am sorry, I only wanted to thank you.'
`Not to worry,' he said cheerfully. 'I do admit the atmosphere was decidedly chilly after you left. A pity, really, as he'd just handed me an invitation to the harvest supper. I quite expected him to take it back again, but he didn't.'
Megan looked away. So Main had taken the trouble to invite Ray and snub her. For Iris? she wondered. 'Did you accept ?' she asked casually as she took the cover off the typewriter.
`Well,' said Ray thoughtfully, 'I didn't feel I could do anything else. You see, I had a feeling it was a sort of olive branch, and I gather it's rather a special occasion in the village life. It would be quite an experience for a townee like me. So we go.'
`We?' queried Megan, looking up at him quickly.
He grinned. 'We,' he said firmly. 'I don't intend going alone, not with Miss Markham on the loose. Mr. Drew already considers I've pinched one of his girl-friends, and if I repeat the performance my obituary will turn out to be a whodunnit !'
Megan grinned weakly. 'I keep telling you, not girl-friend—sister.'
Another impudent grin greeted this assertion. 'I know,' he agreed, 'but in my opinion, methinks the lady doth protest too much.'
Megan decided not to argue the point—on that, or the assumption that she would accompany him to the harvest supper. She had no intention of attending, and in spite of Ray's comments knew he was quite capable of looking after himself. She also suspected that he was not averse to putting Alain's back up, and it was not surprising considering Alain's antagonistic approach. She had till the end of the week to think up a good excuse for absenting herself.
When Saturday came, however, it was Ray and not Megan who provided the excuse. He had sneezed several times on Friday and complained of a heavy head. Megan was not surprised when he rang her on Saturday morning with a hoarse voice, regretting he would have to bow out of the evening's entertainment. Megan tried not to sound too happy about it, but was not entirely successful,
`Megan, are you smiling?' he croaked. 'You weren't keen on going anyway, were you?'
Megan hastily told him she would pop up later to make sure he was all right, to which he replied that it was very kind of her but Mrs. White was on duty. Also his sister had just rung him, and he had no doubt that she would put in an appearance, if not that evening, the next morning, and if Megan could fight her way past the self-appointed nurses, he would be delighted to see her the next day.
Megan attended the church service that morning, keeping well to the back of the church so that she could be first out and on the way home before Alain left. He always stopped for a chat with the vicar anyway, so Megan knew she had lots of leeway. In some ways she dreaded meeting him. She had done nothing, but she could well imagine the trend of his thoughts. She couldn't bear it if he just ignored her, and she lacked the courage to put it to the test.
The supper began at eight. Once again Megan was grateful for her father's absentmindedness. He never attended anyway, and the fact that Megan hadn't even mentioned the thanksgiving meant that she would receive no surprised queries as to why she was not attending.
At seven-thirty, she had just finished clearing the dinner table and was starting to wash the dishes, when she heard the roar of the sports car. She
frowned, but carried on with her task. When she heard the door bell peal, she almost dropped the dish she was wiping. Voices in the hall told her her father had answered the bell. There was a short conversation and the kitchen door swung open. Megan kept her back to it and started to wash the already washed dishes, madly concentrating on the task.
`I know Hallett's excuse. What's yours ?' Alain grated out.
Megan studiously placed a plate on the draining board and took her time in answering, simply because she didn't know what to say. Alain was in no mood for flippancy.
`Well?' he persisted. 'And stop washing that damned pla
te ! You must have got down to the pattern by now.'
Megan placed the dish next to the other one and slowly turned to face him. One quick look at his chiselled features and her glance dropped away from him.
`Since when have you been lost for words?' he goaded. Then he exploded, 'By heaven, Hallett's got a lot to answer for ! You used to be pretty outspoken. Look at you now, nervous as a kitten.'
Megan's fingers gripped the tea-towel hard.
`Are you changing or coming as you are ?' he demanded.
In half-surprise she glanced down at her blouse and trousers, now covered by a wisp of an apron, then she got the message. 'I'm not going anywhere,' she said quietly.
`Why ? Because Hallett's confined to bed?' he grated out. 'It's a wonder you're not up there nursing him !'
Megan was terrified her father would hear. For goodness' sake keep your voice down,' she said coldly.
Alain's eyes were hard. 'You mean he doesn't know his daughter's making a fool of herself over Hallett?'
`Get out !' Megan shouted at him. Never in her whole life had she ever said a thing like that to Alain, but she was past caring. 'Go back to your guests,' she blazed. 'As you said, I've got a spot of nursing to do.'
A muscle moved at the side of his mouth and he moved swiftly towards her. Before she could move he had whipped the apron away from her, placed his hands round her waist and slung her up over his shoulder.
Put me down!' she raged. 'I've some gruel to prepare for the invalid.' Her fists pounded his shoulder. He stopped her legs from kicking out by placing an arm tight against them, and apart from her arms, she couldn't move.
`You can help dish out the baked potatoes,' he
ground out between clenched teeth. 'You're not going near Romeo tonight.'
She was still struggling and protesting as he carried her out of the kitchen and through to the hall. Her father came out of the study door, his brows raised. Then he smiled at Alain. 'Have a good time,' he said, and went back to his work.
