Deception (28 page)

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Authors: Margaret Pargeter

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BOOK: Deception
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'Shall
I kiss you and find out?' Doubt made his eyes
glitter with a
stubborn determination. 'I don't think you
know what you're talking about.'

If
he was throwing out a challenge she couldn't be a
coward.
Perhaps he had to discover for himself how he was
only
wasting his time. 'If you like,' she agreed, lifting her
mouth like a
sacrifice. -

She
was surprised at how very gende his lips were, but
not
surprised that all the instant rapture that had been
there
before was gone. His hands were on her back, his
fingers like
steel, almost breaking her. She nearly cried out
from pain until
she realised it was an unconscious part of
the restraint he was
imposing on himself, which prevented
him from gathering her
into a far more passionate embrace.

When
he let her go his eyes were dark. He stood staring
at
her, a muscle at the side of his strongly curved mouth
jerking spasmodically,
his face grey.
 

Unevenly
she said, 'All I want from you is my freedom.'

'So
you can go back to—was it Jerry?'

Strangely
his half-hearted sneer hurt her more than any
thing
else had done. It also made her uneasy to think she
was
in any way vulnerable, as far as Logan was concerned.
'No,
I won't be going back to Jerry. I just want to be free
to
lead my own life.' She took a deep breath. 'I'd better
tell
you, Logan, that I'm arranging to go to university after
the
summer. Until then I've taken a job on the south coast.
I
had to let them know I was coming here, but I can still
go later.'

He
stepped away from her to pour himself a drink. 'I
see,'
he tossed it off in one go. 'If I took my time you
didn't waste any.'

I rang you, Logan. You
know I did. I tried...' Her
voice trailed
off, as he downed another drink.

He
nodded but made no attempt to touch her again. 'I
know,' he said
harshly. 'More fool me.'

'I'm
sorry too, Logan. I realise it was pardy my fault,
I'm
not trying to shove all the blame on to you. I'm really
sorry
it had to turn out this way. I'll stay for a little while
with Jamie, of
course.'

'I
won't pester you.' His face was stiff, but he appeared
to
accept her ultimatum. 'I seem to have a genius for
making
a botch of my life. Two women who hate me!
Maybe,' his broad shoulders shrugged, 'it
might be a case of third time lucky?'

Thea, for all her
continuing indifference, found that
Logan's
last words haunted her during the next days. As
far as the house went, it disturbed her how easily she
slipped back into her old routine, but not
unduly. Every
thing was so dearly
familiar and unchanged—Martha's
sharpness,
Duncan's dry remarks, even Jamie's chatter.
Only Logan was different. She could see he was working
too hard. His mines might be making
money—certainly all
evidence of
an unnatural economy at Drumlarig was gone,
but it was clear that he wasn't allowing his new affluence
to
influence the amount of work he did.

One
morning, when she dared to mention it, he ex
plained,
'Drumlarig was beginning to pay its way, and I
want to continue
proving it can do so, without any great
injection of capital from
a source which has nothing to
do with it. I might spend more on
the house, one day, if
I can find a woman who wants me, but apart
from this, for the present anyway, the money from the mines will be
reinvested.
Put aside, if you like, for a rainy day.'

As
her eyes went ironically to the streaming windows,
he
shrugged. "Not literally, my dear. Which reminds roe,
I
have work to do and shouldn't be sitting here.' Reaching for his oilskins, he
glanced back at her as he went out. 'If Irene calls would you mind telling her
that I'll look in and see her this evening. I want to discuss Jamie's new treat
ment
with her.' He paused. 'She seems very good with
him, wouldn't you say?'

In
all honesty, Thea couldn't deny it. The doctor's
daughter was a
trained physiotherapist and Jamie looked
forward to her visits,
the help she gave him. The girl was
good with him. It
wouldn't be exaggeration to say that a
warm camaraderie was
developing between them. A twinge
of something surprisingly
like jealousy caught at Thea's heart, making her flinch, as if from pain. When
she went back to London Jamie would need someone. So would
Logan,
whispered a small voice that she tried to ignore.

When
Mrs Murray arrived unexpectedly, Thea felt
almost ridiculously glad
to see her. Logan had been so
unapproachable lately, she hadn't
dared ask him what his
mother knew of the present situation. When
she did find
sufficient courage to do so, he merely said
curdy that his
mother was aware they were
having—difficulties.

Thea
flinched from the bitterness in his eyes as he spoke. She had a feeling that he
wanted to grab her, to
crush her, to shake her, but felt his hands
were tied. True
to his word, he hadn't attempted to come
near her again
and she could sense him withdrawing daily.
Yet he still
continued helping her with many of the
heavier tasks about
the house. It often surprised her that he
took such care that
she shouldn't get overtired. But, for all she
was often con
scious of his bleakly unhappy regard, he
never tried to
touch her, and each night his footsteps went
past her bed
room door without pausing.

Mrs
Murray had been there several days before she
brought up the
subject Thea had been dreading. They were
alone in the library
before tea, having left Jamie talking happily with a school friend in the
drawing-room.

It
was a wild afternoon with darkness already gather
ing.
Unable to settle beside the fire, Thea kept glancing
anxiously through the
window.

'Is
anything wrong?' Mrs Murray asked gendy.

Without
thinking, Thea replied, 'I do hope Logan isn't
long. It's a terrible night.'

'Isn't
he out with some of the men?' Logan had added
to his outdoor
staff lately. Calmly Mrs Murray knitted
two more stitches before
giving Thea another quick glance.
'Do you worry about him, dear?'

Swifdy,
Thea was about to deny it, but suddenly she
couldn't. She did worry
over Logan, in so many ways. It
took a lot of believing,
but she did. With a stunned expres
sion on her face, she nodded.

'Then
why don't you go and find him and tell him so?'
his mother suggested sofdy.

Helplessly,
Thea stared down at her hands, away from
the wise eyes opposite,
which seemed to guess so much
without being told. 'I can't!' she
gasped, her own eyes wide
and anguished. 'I—I shouldn't be able to. It's as if
I were frozen. I can't feel any more.'

'But
you did, then, didn't you?' Gendy Mrs Murray
pressed her point, never taking her
eyes from the girl's
distraught face. 'I
suggested you were anxious and you
immediately
recognised anxiety within you. Perhaps if you
could think of one more thing? Doors are often held by
the
flimsiest of locks.'

Like
someone in a daze, Thea whispered, 'Logan said, when his aunt—your sister
died, it made him realise how
very short life is.'

Quiedy
Mrs Murray waited, too wise to interrupt such
a pattern of thought.

Tremulously,
feeling torn, Thea considered silendy. If
Logan didn't return? If
he met with an accident out there
on the moors, where
weather such as this could mean very
real danger. If he should
be carried away from her, as his
aunt had been, from her
loved ones, what would she do?
What price her pride and her frozen
heart then?

With
a strangled cry she jumped to her feet, running
almost blindly
from the room. What a fool she had been, oh, what a fool! She still loved
Logan. Wherever he was
she must find him and tell him. He might not
love her
any
more, but she had to tell him!

He
was out on the moors, by the loch, moving sheep. Again, as she had done on the
day she had gone to meet
Jamie, Thea splashed through the flooding
river. She knew
about the bridge, but had no time to go
around by it.

It
was raining, but she hadn't stopped to find a coat. All
she
could see was Logan on his great black horse. The wind
tore
through his hair as he shouted something to the men
who
were with him, the rain streaming down his cheeks.
It
was cold, very cold, but she was only aware of the ice
around her heart
melting.

'Logan!'
she screamed wildly.

Whether
it was instinct, or the wind carrying her voice,
she didn't know,
but suddenly the black horse wheeled and
he was beside her. He
scooped her up as though she was
as light as a feather,
holding her closely in front of him,
shielding her shaking
body with his big one from the
worst of the elements.

'Thea?'
as she sobbed painfully against him, his voice
came deeply
urgent, striving to quieten her. 'What's wrong?
You're wet through! Tell me!'

•Nothing,
Logan. Oh, everything!' Clutching at him
with feverish hands, she
found herself unable to speak.
What if he didn't want her? The
confusion that swept her
seemed worse than the wind and the rain, but
she forced
herself to go on. 'I had to come! I discovered that I
love
you
again.'

For
a moment he sat as though he had been turned to
stone, then, with
a harsh gasp, his arms tightened. His
hand drove fiercely
through her hair, pulling her urgendy
against him as he bent violendy over her. Even
before
he spoke she could feel his heart
pounding right through
her.

'Thank
God,' he said grimly. 'Thea, girl, you don't know
what
I've been through, how much I've longed to hear
you say that. I
couldn't bear to think that I'd lost you, but
nothing I tried
seemed to have any effect. I was slowly
dying, feeling
desperate, until I saw you running through the water to me. Only then did I
dare wonder if I had my
old reckless Thea back.'

She was powerless in
the strength of his hold, but
she wanted
nothing else. It must have been shock, Logan.'

His voice was still
grim. 'I knew what it was. What
I didn't
know was how much longer I could stand it. You
don't know what I suffered, my darling, having to walk
past your
bedroom door each night.'

'I love you,' she whispered.
'Feel my heart racing if
. you don't
believe me. Please never let me go again.'

'Never!' he promised
thickly, then his head blotted
out the dark
moorland, the men and sheep disappearing in
the distance, as his lips pressed savagely on hers, his kisses
no
less wild than the night.
 
     

Later,
in the warmth of the stables, he took her in his
arms again and it
was some time before he let her go. The
urgency of his need got
through to her, not only in what
he said but from the
pressure of his hands and mouth. As
he pressed her mouth
open, desire stirred within her,
throbbing madly through
her body, and a tremulous surge
of love sent her arms
passionately around his neck. Never
again would she think of
leaving him, never again would
she let him believe he could let her go.

'You
need a hot bath,' he said, his hands on her damp
shirt, 'and so do
I.' As they left the stable, he bent to
whisper something in her
ear that made her cheeks colour
to a rosy glow.

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