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She was making up the fire when Rex’s footsteps sounded in the porch and he came in, his eyes flying to the flame-coloured velvet curtains at the window. Looking up, Davina saw a spark of amusement in his eyes as he asked in an expressionless tone, ‘You like them, then?’

Davina’s face lit up. ‘Of course I do. They cheer up the place no end. I’d washed the old ones, but they’d faded badly. I’ve made up the rooms, sc we’ll be able to go to bed tonight in a civilised manner,’ she finished in a rush of excitement.

Rex gave a reluctant laugh but merely replied mildly, ‘I hadn’t realised we’d been going to bed in an
uncivilised
manner,’ which made Davina’s face flush delicately at the implication behind the words. He saw the blush and took pity on her by adding, ‘I hadn’t realised the housewifely instinct lying dormant either. Do all women go starry-eyed over a couple of beds and some new curtains?’

Davina gave an embarrassed laugh and peeped at him through her eyelashes as she said demurely, her tone suspiciously innocent, ‘I couldn’t give a generalisation, but then not all women are unfortunate enough to be brought to a house in this condition.’

Rex’s firm mouth twitched as he hung up his jacket. ‘Touché! But I thought the few extras would redeem my character. In fact you can do over the whole house if that’s your ambition.’

‘It’s not, and in any case it would be a wicked extravagance just for six months.’

‘We might do the small room across the hall, though,’ Rex remarked, sitting down and beginning to roll a cigarette. ‘We shan’t want to sit in here every evening all through the winter. However, first things first. It can wait until later,’ and with his cigarette alight he reached for the teapot which Davina had just put down on the table.

She was getting into the brand new bed, feeling the spring interior mattress sink luxuriously beneath her weight, when she recalled that she had not apologised for oversleeping, nor had Rex taken the opportunity to give her one of his sly digs about her failure to be up on time. She lay staring into the darkness turning over this unexpected forbearance and decided at last that the longer she knew Rex, the less she understood his sudden swing of mood. Had someone, somehow, given him a poor opinion of womankind in general? Yet it seemed ridiculous to imagine him as crossed in love.

What girl could fail to respond if a man of Rex’s undeniable attractiveness were to make himself agreeable? He would simply sweep her off her feet.

During breakfast the following morning when with a decided twinkle in his eye Rex asked Davina if she had slept well, she remembered her speculations of the night before. He was obviously in a teasing mood again and she had difficulty in giving him a cool smile of acknowledgement as she endeavoured to turn the tables by saying, ‘Marvellously. Did you?’

He let her off the hook by lowering his eyes to his plate and saying simply, ‘Yes, I always do,’ then after a brief pause, ‘You haven’t forgotten we’re invited round to supper at the vet’s house this evening?’

‘I had forgotten, yes,’ Davina replied slowly, wishing there was some way of avoiding another confrontation with Adele Wickham. She glanced up to intercept a keen-eyed look as Rex said with a drawl, ‘Never mind. You’ll have me to see you don’t get swallowed up.'

He got up with the words, leaving Davina staring at his broad back. Now what had he meant? she wondered, a frown between her brows. It seemed as if once again he had read the thought behind her too expressive face.

Since she had no means of knowing what the other guests would be wearing, she decided on a velvet trouser and waistcoat suit, teamed with a toning silk blouse of the same pinky lilac shade, and laying them out along with clean undies, she went downstairs to have a bath. She had turned on both taps and undressed when an ominous rustling accompanied by a series of soft squeaks made her pick up a towel and wrap it around herself before cautiously backing towards the door.

There was nothing to be seen, but all her thoughts were bent on arming herself with the kitchen poker without delay. She opened the bathroom door and backed out, to give a gasp of fright as two long arms engulfed her from behind.

She had walked straight into Rex and found herself a prisoner against his broad chest. But she was blind to the possibilities of the situation as she whispered over a bare shoulder, ‘Something’s in there. I was going for the poker.'

He bent his head and whispered in her ear, ‘What is it? A king-sized jabberwock?’

Davina turned a reproachful look and he released her to say, a note of amusement in his smooth drawl, ‘I’ll see to it, I expect it’s only a rat,’ which caused her a shudder of revulsion as he walked past her.

She waited in breathless silence listening to Rex moving about inside the bathroom. Suddenly the door swung wide as he came out, his face perfectly solemn.

‘What was it? Have you killed it?’ Davina demanded, and for answer Rex brought one big hand from behind his back and held his fist on a level with her eyes.

‘See for yourself I’ Slowly he unclenched his hand. ‘Here’s your jabberwock,’ he said, and Davina found herself being surveyed by two bright eyes in a tiny face about the size of her thumbnail.

‘Why, it’s only a fieldmouse!’ She looked up slowly to meet Rex’s eyes. ‘How could such a tiny thing make so much noise?’ She stopped abruptly and before he could reply demanded, ‘You’re not going to kill it?’

Rex walked past her. ‘Of course not.’ She heard him open the porch door. He returned to say, ‘I expect it got up one of the outlet pipes and was simply more scared than you were.’

Davina was still standing, her bare feet curling on the polished tiles, clutching the towel around her like a sarong. Rex stopped in front of her and ran a careless forefinger from her ear and down neck and shoulder, to stop at the towel top.

‘You look delightful, but the bath water must be getting cold,’ he drawled, and as if released from a spell, Davina blinked and darting back inside the bathroom, shut and bolted the door, feeling oddly breathless.

But when she stepped into the bath she lay quite motionless for some minutes before she began to wash. Her reaction to Rex’s casual caress had come as something of a surprise, and squinting down, she almost expected to see a mark where he had trailed his finger.

Product of her age, it wasn’t by any means the first time Davina had been the target of wandering masculine hands, for modern bikinis were an invitation in themselves. It was, however, the first time she felt as if she’d been touched with a live wire. She suddenly recalled the warm safety of his arms when she had cannoned into him, and a shiver ran through her despite the warmth of the water.

It was therefore with a feeling of unusual shyness that she came down later ready to set out for Jim Thomas’s party, but Rex’s mood of intimacy had vanished as he asked indifferently, his eyes running over the outfit she was wearing, ‘Going to be warm enough without a coat?’

‘I’ve got a shawl,’ Davina replied nervously, holding it up, and with a, ‘Come on then,’ Rex led the way outside.

There was no difficulty in finding the house. Apart from a number of cars parked in the driveway, lights shone from every window and the sound of music could be heard. Davina got out before Rex could come round to help, determined to keep out of his reach for the rest of the evening. In this she had help from both Adele and Jim, for they were no sooner inside the house than Adele, looking like an advertisement from
Vogue
in a turquoise blue figure-hugging evening gown, swooped upon Rex and carried him off to the far end of the long drawing room.

Davina was left smiling a ‘hello’ at Jim. Tonight he was tidily dressed in well cut slacks and a turtleneck matching sweater, with his silver-blond hair neatly combed. ‘You didn’t recognise me? Admit it!’ he said, and smiled into her eyes. ‘Wouldn’t do to wear anything decent when you’ve just delivered a calf, though,’ he went on. ‘What would you like to drink? Everyone else is about three ahead of you.’

Davina let him lead her to where a table covered with bottles and glasses stood inviting the guests to help themselves. Most had done so pretty liberally, she decided, as a redhead, her make-up smudged, tilted the glass she was holding and only Jim’s quick hand saved both of them being doused with gin.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said as he poured a sherry for Davina. ‘I think a spot of food as blotting paper is indicated. Come along to the kitchen and meet my Mrs Hepburn. We can help her dish out the grub. That’s if you don’t mind,’ he finished apologetically.

‘Of course not,’ Davina assured him, secretly glad to get away from the crowd of noisy strangers. There was a mouthwatering smell coming from the big electric oven. A trolley with a hot plate stood ready, loaded on its lower shelves with plates and cutlery, and the big casseroles, their contents topped with crisply browned potatoes, were soon added and Jim wheeled it carefully down the hall.

While Davina and Mrs Hepburn served, Jim carried plates round to the guests who were soon sitting on the floor or a convenient chair to sample the housekeeper’s cooking. Davina was surprised to see Rex appear beside her and there was a note of dry amusement as he said, ‘I saw Jim had you safely in tow, but it’s a bit of a busman’s night out to expect you to do this,’ and he waved his hand at the steaming dishes.

Davina gave him her dimpling smile just as Adele came up. ‘Why, how sweet you are to help out,’ she said patronisingly, then to Rex, ‘Grab a couple of plates, darling. We can sit on the stairs and get away from this mob for a bit,’ and picking up some cutlery, she sailed away in a cloud of expensive perfume.

Rex seemed about to make some comment, but as Jim Thomas came back for more plates, whatever he might have said remained a mystery. With a whimsical expression of resignation, he picked up two portions of hotpot and turned to follow Adele.

When everyone was served, Jim and Davina sat down on the floor to eat their own supper. ‘I’m glad you could come. When the food’s cleared away, I’ll introduce you to some of the gang.’ He put a finger on Davina’s arm and pointed. ‘That’s our local doctor. He and I went to school together. He’s always had a crush on Adele. I hope he doesn’t build up false hopes now she’s back.’

‘For good?’

Jim shrugged. ‘You can’t tell with Adele. 1 thought when she married Reggie Wickham we’d got a bit of peace at last. Mother died when we were both small, unfortunately, and Adele could twist my father round her little finger. Thank goodness he’s not still alive to see her making such a mess of things.’

Davina gave him a searching look but said nothing. She suspected a scandal of mammoth proportions might account for Adele Wickham burying herself in this remote spot, but it was really none of her business to probe. Jim, however, needed no prodding, for he went on gloomily, ‘I only realised tonight that the story of Reggie coming back unexpectedly from a business trip and finding my sister practically
in flagrante delicto
would reach Camshaw, but apparently it has. Oliver Matthews who is vicar here and another old friend refused to come this evening, and as for the Comstones— well, the Squire cut Adele dead in the middle of Alston yesterday, which makes it a bit tricky. I see to all his cattle as a rule.'

‘But surely your clients don’t hold you responsible for the behaviour of your sister?’ Davina asked, then her brows drew together. ‘Comstone—that name rings a bell. I think the man giving your sister dinner the other evening was called Comstone.’

‘Yes, Roy. I went to school with him too,’ Jim said with his lopsided grin. Then his face became serious again. ‘Roy’s here tonight somewhere,’ and he looked around the room, but in the smoky atmosphere it was difficult to pick out individuals and Jim gave up to look down into Davina’s face. ‘No good judging the feelings of the Comstones by Roy. He’s the black sheep of the family and practically disowned by the old man. The Squire was in the Navy before he retired to farm, and between you and me, he and Mrs C. were born about fifty years too late. Couple of real old Victorians. If I so much as say damn, the Commander makes me feel as if I’ve spat on his quarterdeck I’

Davina’s gurgle of laughter made several people near by turn their heads and she and Jim were invited to share the joke. But getting to his feet, Jim Thomas fobbed off questions by saying it was a private conversation and Davina was left to mull over the confidences which had been poured into her ears.

But not for long. Jim returned with a dark, curly-headed man whom he introduced as ‘our local quack. Tom Mulholland.’ The young doctor held on to Davina’s hand and pulled her to her feet, taking her arm when she was standing and dismissing his host with a, ‘You’ve monopolised her long enough. Go away and entertain your other guests,’ and Jim, with a monkey-like grin of distaste, obeyed.

The young doctor took her over and introduced her to a circle of his particular cronies and Davina forced herself to join in the conversation without looking around for Rex. For all she knew he could be in the room, but there was such a crush of people she could not be sure.

Some time later Jim Thomas returned to whisper, ‘Care to come and help me make some coffee? I’ve sent Mrs Hepburn to bed.’

Davina gave the stairs a glance as they went down the hall, but though several people were using them as a sitting out spot, Rex was not one of them. She gave a yawn as they went into the deserted kitchen, cleared now except for a tray laden with cups on the big formica-topped table.

But when Jim had switched on the big electric percolator, he seemed in no hurry to serve his guests. He walked over to where Davina was leaning against one of the working surfaces, stifling yet another yawn, and asked gently, ‘Tired?'

‘A bit. I was up at six-thirty,’ Davina apologised, and Jim leaned an elbow on the cupboard behind her and propped his head on his fist as he leaned down to tuck a curl behind one of her ears. ‘I shall be up at Nineveh tomorrow afternoon. Will you be glad to see me?’ he asked.

Davina’s heart sank. Surely he wasn’t going to be difficult? She had had enough of the party and felt in no mood to stave off an amorous host. She smiled brightly, put up a hand to hold Jim’s which was now caressing the lobe of her ear and said sweetly, ‘Of course. Rex and I are always pleased to see visitors. I’ll even give you a cup of tea and a scone when you and Rex have finished your business.’