Island of the Heart (10 page)

entirely!' She went off, muttering under her breath, and Sandie

walked slowly into the dining-room. Jessica was seated at the table,

frowning over an article in the
Irish Times.

She gave Sandie a brief smile. 'Hello, there. You've been let off the

hook today.'

'So I hear.' Sandie pulled out a chair and sat down. 'Is—is Crispin

ill?'

His sister's smile widened. 'Not unless they classify hangovers as

diseases these days.'

'A hangover?' Sandie's eyes widened. 'But he didn't have that much

to drink at dinner.'

Jessica laughed. 'Who's talking about dinner?' she demanded. 'It was

what came after. Flynn challenged Cris to a quick snooker match. In

the end, it lasted half the night, and a lot of Black Bushmills, most

of which seems to have been swallowed by Cris, because Flynn's

fresh enough this morning.'

Sandie found her hands curling into involuntary fists in her lap. She

said slowly, 'I—see.'

And she did see, only too well. The lord and master of Killane had

chosen to intervene yet again, even though his interference was

unjustified and totally unnecessary.

How dared he? Sandie raged inwardly. Oh, God, how dared he?

She dismissed the fact that the last thing she'd wanted the previous

evening had been a visit from an amorous Crispin. She'd made her

decision about that, and been prepared to carry it through, however

awkward the consequences.

Flynn Killane had no right to assume that she was willing to go

along with Crispin's advances. His attitude was arrogant,

overbearing and insulting. She could handle things for herself.

It wasn't even as if he'd done it for the best possible motives—for

her protection. She knew quite well that it was simply and crudely to

put a spoke in her wheel.

'Is something wrong?' asked Jessica. 'You look a bit jaded too. I

hope you're not coming down with something. Magda has this

morbid fear of people with colds.'

Sandie forced a smile. 'No, I'm fine. I was just wondering what to do

with myself, after I've had my practice.'

'Well, you could always take Kelly for a walk.' Jessica indicated the

spaniel, who was sprawled asleep in a patch of sunlight near the

window. 'Magda bought him as an excuse to take exercise herself,

but you can guess how long that lasted,' she added, grinning. 'Each

time the wind changed she foresaw laryngitis. Anyway, if you're

going out, I'd go soon. This weather isn't going to last.'

'I must get some work done first,' said Sandie. 'After all, that's what

I'm here for.'

'Whatever you say,' Jessica said equably, and returned her attention

to her paper.

The practice session was hopeless, Sandie was forced to admit after

an hour and a half. She was just too angry and upset to make any

proper progress. She could not dismiss Flynn and his overbearing

behaviour from the forefront of her mind, try as she might, which

was infuriating in itself. Because the last thing she wanted or needed

was to think about that— boor.

She closed the lid of the piano with a muted slam, and rose. She

would simply have to do as Jessica suggested, and walk off her ill-

temper with Kelly.

The spaniel seemed delighted at the prospect of a walk. Sandie took

the leash she found hanging in the porch, but didn't attach it to the

dog's collar, as Kelly seemed perfectly happy to gambol along

beside her.

She turned inland, forsaking the road as soon as possible for short

springy turf and bracken, heading for the lower slopes of a tall hill

which just seemed to have missed being a mountain. The sun was

warm on her back, and the air smelled clean and fresh. She drank it

in by the ecstatic lungful.

Connemara had so much to offer, she thought, watching the

changing shadows on the sunlit slopes as fleecy clouds drifted

overhead. She had never seen so many shades of green in any

landscape, and the tops of the Twelve Pins were a misty indigo.

If it weren't for Flynn Killane, life would be perfect.

Well, not completely, she was forced to acknowledge on reflection.

There was still the existence of Crispin's marriage to take into

account. She was vaguely troubled by the fact that he'd made no

move to dissolve the marriage himself. Surely if Francesca had

walked out on him two years previously he was legally entitled to

do so, instead of waiting for her to make the first move.

Unless Irish law was different. But Crispin wasn't Irish, so probably

it didn't apply to him anyway.

She shook her head, feeling totally confused. There was no reason

for her to be considering this anyway. It wasn't as if Crispin had

asked her to marry him. In fact she wasn't sure whether she was

included in his long-term plans at all. Perhaps all he had in mind

was a summer of sex at Killane, and then goodbye.

What she had to decide was, if that was all that was on offer, would

it be enough?

She shivered slightly, looking round for Kelly, suddenly aware that

the scudding clouds from the west weren't quite so beguilingly

fleecy any more, but greying and solidly packed. She called the

dog's name and whistled, but there was no responding bark. Clearly

Kelly had taken advantage of her abstraction to go on some

exploration of his own, and was not to be distracted.

Oh, hell, Sandie thought, casting an apprehensive glance at the sky.

She stood still, staring round her for betraying signs of movement. A

few isolated sheep and cattle were grazing, completely untroubled,

so Kelly couldn't be in their vicinity.

Where's he gone? she groaned inwardly. I should have kept him on

the lead, I suppose, but he seemed so well behaved. I'll have to find

him.

She unslung the sweater she was wearing round her shoulders and

put it on, although it would be little enough protection against the

rain which was threatening with every minute.

Sandie couldn't believe conditions could change so quickly—or a

spaniel vanish apparently off the face of the earth. He must have

found some damned rabbit hole, she thought crossly. I hope he

hasn't, got stuck.

She walked on slowly, calling and whistling until she was nearly

hoarse. She was getting really worried now. Kelly wasn't just an

agreeable companion, he was a valuable dog, and she had lost him.

I'm going to be
persona non grata
with every member of the

household at this rate, she thought forlornly, as the first cold spatter

of raindrops hit her.

She could see the end of an enormous pipe, clearly used for

drainage, protruding from the ground, and she made her way

towards it. She called 'Kelly!' again, and wondered if she had really

heard the echo of a faint bark from somewhere deep in the pipe's

interior or whether she was just imagining it. She looked inside the

pipe, her mind quailing at the prospect of crawling along it, even a

little way.

Oh, Kelly, she wailed silently, please come back!

It was raining more heavily than ever. The wind had risen, and

seemed to be driving the water at her almost horizontally. Within

minutes she was soaked. She turned and began to run with a certain

amount of care back towards the road, head bent miserably, her

soaked trainers squelching. After all, the last thing she wanted at this

stage was to slip, and maybe sprain her ankle.

Feeling more wretched by the moment, she gained the tarmac and

began to jog through the puddles, heading back towards Killane.

She'd gone about half a mile when she heard the sound of a car

engine coming up behind her, and stepped to the side of the road,

her hand raised to beg a lift. Please stop! she implored silently.

To her relief the estate car was already slowing. It halted beside her,

and the passenger door swung open.

'Fancy meeting you here,' Flynn Killane said softly, his glance

deriding her bedraggled appearance.

Sandie could have jumped up and down screaming. She had the

most appalling luck, she thought dismally. Of all the people in the

world, why did he have to come along?

She was strongly tempted to slam the car door and continue

walking.

'Don't be a fool,' he said shortly, as if she'd spoken the thought

aloud. 'Now get in before you catch pneumonia.'

Seething, she obeyed, sitting bolt upright in the passenger seat and

staring defiantly ahead of her through the rivulets of water running

down the windscreen.

Flynn gave a faint sigh. 'Now listen to me,' he said. 'I can stand you

damp; I can stand you resentful, but the two combined are more than

flesh and blood can bear. Shall we declare a temporary truce for the

duration of this journey? After all, I didn't have to stop.'

She wanted to tell him stiffly to go to hell, when suddenly the sheer

ridiculousness of the situation struck her, and she felt a reluctant

giggle surfacing inside her. She suppressed it instantly.

She bit her lip. 'I suppose we'll have to.'

'I'm glad you haven't overwhelmed me with gratitude,' he said drily

as he put the car in gear. 'And as we're actually conversing, could

you tell me why you're clutching that dog lead, with no dog in

sight?'

'I took Kelly for a walk.' Her voice wobbled defensively. 'But he ran

off somewhere and I've been hunting ever since, but I can't find him

anywhere, and I've called and called.'..'

'Don't worry your head,' Flynn advised. 'The beast will be safe and

snug at Killane at this moment. He hates the rain, and the moment

he smells it, he makes for home.'

'I see,' Sandie said in a stifled voice. 'I wish someone had told me,'

'Well, we all know his little ways. I suppose it never occurred to

anyone to warn that you'd probably be coming home alone.' He

paused. 'While we're on the subject of being solitary, I hope

Crispin's failure to appear last night wasn't too grave a

disappointment for you.'

His voice was silky, and Sandie flung him a fulminating glance.

'Not in the slightest. I wasn't actually expecting him, and I have no

intention of having an affair with him.'

'Very commendable,' said Flynn. 'But did it occur to you that

Crispin's expectations and intentions might have been very different,

and that the choice might not have been yours?'

Sandie stared down at her fingers, interlaced together in her lap. 'I

certainly didn't think he'd be prepared to break my door down, no.'

'You locked yourself in?' The surprise in his voice needled her

afresh.

'Yes, I did,' she said tautly. 'I'm not the pushover you seem to think,

Mr Killane, and I do have my own ethical code, which does not

include having an affair with a married man, whether you believe

me or not.'

'You sound very rational and moral in the cold light of day,' Flynn

commented. 'Last night your decision didn't seem nearly so cut and

dried.'

'That still doesn't mean I needed you to make it for me,' she said

angrily. 'I could cope.' She paused. 'I suppose you think you've been

very clever.'

'I was quite impressed by my reading of Crispin's psychology, it's

true,' he said calmly. 'I reckoned the only factor which could take

precedence over this planned seduction would be the prospect of his

scoring a swift victory over me at snooker. He's never managed it

yet, and it maddens him beyond bearing. He's also under the illusion

that the more he drinks, the better he plays,' he added with a faint

shrug. 'I had to put him into his own bed at three this morning.'

'You, of course, remained stone cold sober.'

'I make no such claim. But I was in better shape than Crispin.' He

slanted a sidelong grin at her. 'I was half tempted to come and

seduce you myself.'

Sandie bit hard on her lip. 'If you want to maintain this truce I'd be

glad if you didn't make remarks like that,' she said, forcing her voice

to remain steady. 'I don't find them even remotely amusing.'

'What makes you think I was joking?' His tone was still light, but

there was a note in it which held danger signals.

The palms of Sandie's hands were suddenly damp. 'Because you

can't possibly be serious,' she returned. 'We don't even like each

other, Mr Killane. We've clashed at every opportunity since the first

moment we met.'

'And you don't think that bed might be the ideal place to reach some