Winter at Cray (14 page)

‘
Won
’
t you sit down, Mr. Dupont?
’
she asked as the door closed behind them.

The dark eyes glittered as Simon
’
s had done so often during the many times he had been angry with her, and she shivered at the hateful familiarity of it.
‘
I have asked that we speak alone,
madame
.’
His gaze flicked for a moment to Stephen, rightly interpreting his interest, and he raised one black brow in query.
‘
This man—?
’

‘
Is my cousin, Stephen Kincaid,
’
Louise said.
‘
I
’
m sorry, I thought perhaps you knew from—from the other night—
’

‘
Ah, so—when you so conveniently fainted away, hmm?
’
Malice poured over her from the liquid dark eyes and she was reminded again of Simon and the cruel viciousness of his tongue.

Determinedly pushing back the memory, she shook her head.
‘
It—it was your appearance, it was a great shock to me,
’
she explained.
‘
I
’
d forgotten Simon had a brother.
’

‘
Ah, there is no doubt much you choose to forget about your husband,
’
he retorted.
‘
Conveniently, perhaps.
’

‘
Not at all,
’
Louise denied,
‘
it
’
s—it
’
s such a long time, that
’
s all; one forgets.
’

‘
No doubt.
’
He eyed her closely for a moment and she felt her hands tight and damp-palmed, clenched at her sides.
‘
You know why I am here?
’
he asked, and Louise shook her head.

‘
I have no idea,
’
she told him,
‘
unless it
’
s to open old wounds, and I—I can
’
t think you
’
d be so cruel as to do that.
’

‘
Cruel?
’
He could see her weakening resolve, she thought, and it pleased him; he was all too much like Simon had been.
‘
You call me cruel,
madame
, after you—you—
’
The thin hands swept through the air expressively.
‘
My brother was young, full of life, and you just disposed of him—pouf! And you call me cruel
?’

It was all starting again, Louise thought desperately, the coldness of fear gripping her heart as she turned to seek Stephen
’
s hands, looking for reassurance. The hands she found, however, were stiff and reluctant, as if he would rather have turned and gone, and left her alone with this man who hated her as much as his brother had done.

‘
Stephen—
’
She looked up at the flushed face and set mouth of her cousin and sensed the doubt in him.

‘
I think you
’
d better go, Dupont
,’
he told him.
‘
You
’
d much better go now.
’

‘
I came to see my brother
’
s wife, his widow, Mr. Kincaid. I shall not go until I have talked to her alone, you understand?
’

‘
I—I don
’
t want to talk to you
,’
Louise cried, wishing it was no more than the bad dream that had haunted her so often in the early years after Simon
’
s death.

‘
But you
will
talk to me,
madame
!
’
The words were ones which Simon had used on so many occasions when he had been demanding money from her and she had been obliged to refuse. The familiarity of them and the same deep, strongly accented voice in which they were spoken was too much for her
self-control
. She felt her knees weake
n
and a rising panic that threatened to engulf her.

‘
No! No, I won
’
t!
’

‘
Louise—
’
Stephen
’
s voice sounded uncertain and slightly unreal and she felt her head throbbing dizzily.

‘
Louise!
’
This time there was more depth in the voice and before she could insist that she was all right, she was encircled by a strong arm and half led, half carried into the small sitting-room.

She was seated carefully in the armchair her
great-grandmother
usually used.
‘
Get some brandy or something,
’
Jonathan ordered impatiently as Stephen followed them in, and surprisingly Stephen went without argument.

Her hands were taken and rubbed soothingly, while he
stood between her and the doorw
ay, blocking her view of the unwelcome visitor. She had not even heard him come into the room, but he had obviously anticipated another faint and acted as promptly as he had before.

‘I’m
all right,
’
she told him,
‘I’m
all right.
’

‘
You
’
re not all right,
’
he retorted,
‘
or you wouldn
’
t have gone woozy on us just now. What
’
s been happening? Shall I get your grandfather, would you like to have him here
?’

‘
No, no!
’
She stayed him with a hand on his arm and he covered it with his own for a second.
‘
There
’
s no need.
’

‘
O.K.,
’
he agreed, shrugging,
‘
have it your way, but tell me what
’
s been going on in there.
’

Instinctively she stiffened and shook her head.
‘
Nothing that need concern you, Mr. Darrell. I
’
m grateful to you for—for helping me, but there
’
s no need to worry, really. I
’
m perfectly all right.
’

He eyed her steadily for a moment and she thought he was undecided, thinking it must be a sensation unfamiliar to him.
‘
D
’
you want to go back in there?
’
he asked at last, and she in turn hesitated.

‘
I—I don
’
t know.
’

She expected him to respond with impatience, instead he put one hand on the back of her chair and the other on the arm and bent over her, the dark eyes as serious as she had seen them yet.
‘
I know you
’
ve got some high-minded notion that I
’
m a snooper
,’
he told her,
‘
but please believe me, at the moment I
’
m more concerned about the effect this man has on you than about any news value there may be attached to it.
’

‘
I
’
m—I
’
m sorry.
’
She disliked having to apologise to him, even in such circumstances, but there was little else she could do and he did seem genuinely concerned for her.

‘
Do you want to see him?
’
He accepted the apology by ignoring it.

‘
No—no, not really,
’
she admitted,
‘
but there
’
s not much else I can do, is there
?’

‘
He
is
some relation to your late husband?
’
The question was inevitable, she supposed, and nodded.

‘
He
’
s Simon
’
s brother.
’

‘
I see.
’
He narrowed his eyes, straightening up, tall and somehow reassuring, although she still wondered how much of his interest was professional.
‘
I won
’
t pretend to be in complete ignorance of the matter,
’
he confessed, perching himself on the arm of the chair.
‘
As I told you, I only remember the bare bones of the story and Essie doesn
’
t remember it at all. However,
’
he added hastily when she showed signs of objecting,
‘
I
’
m not prying, I just wondered if Dupont is threatening you—is he
?’

‘
He—he hasn
’
t so far,
’
Louise admitted,
‘
but—I don
’
t know, it
’
s the way he spoke, I suppose, I was so afraid that—
’
She groped for the elusive words to explain why she had panicked so readily when Henri Dupont had done no more than ask to speak with her alone.
‘
I was silly, I suppose,
’
she added,
‘
and Stephen—
’

‘
Stephen
’
s a fool,
’
he declared bluntly, and turned to see the object of his scorn returning at last with brandy in a glass.

‘
Now look, Darrell—
’
He had evidently overheard and his face was flushed as he handed over the brandy to him without demur.

‘
You
are
a fool,
’
Jonathan repeated, unperturbed by the effect of his bluntness on the other man.
‘
If your attitude when I came into the room was anything to go by.
’
He handed the glass of brandy to Louise.
‘
Drink this,
’
he ordered,
‘
all of it. I know it
’
s only Dutch courage, but every little helps.
’

‘
This is none of your damned business
!’
Stephen informed him shortly.
‘
You
’
d no right to come back in there when you knew there was family business being discussed.
’

‘
Maybe not,
’
Jonathan admitted blithely,
‘
but I did.
’
He looked down at Louise, small and silent in her chair, the brandy flowing warmly through her body and making her feel delightfully relaxed and unworried. He looked as if he found the whole situation rather intriguing and no cause for worry, and at the moment she almost agreed with him.
‘
What are you going to do about Dupont?
’
he asked, and Louise frowned at being asked to make a decision again.
‘
Is there any reason why he can
’
t go back where he came from
?’

‘
Where he came from?
’
she echoed.
‘
Where
did
he come from
?
Oh, I know he
’
s staying with someone in the village at the moment, but I
’
m wondering if he lives in this country or—
’

‘
He doesn
’
t,
’
Jonathan informed her.
‘
We looked at his papers before he came round the other night and his passport gave an address in France, so he
’
s living
at home and just over here to make a nuisance of himself, I
’
d guess.
’

‘
He hasn
’
t really said why he
’
s here,
’
Louise admitted,
‘
but he was being—well, very unpleasant, and I
’
m afraid I reacted rather stupidly.
’

‘
Hmm.
’
He made no bones about agreeing to that possibility and she frowned over it.

‘
He must have arrived on the same day as you and Essie did,
’
she said, determined not to be roused to anger.
‘
If he
’
d been here longer he
’
d have come up to the house before, surely.
’

‘
And it started snowing that night,
’
Jonathan mused,
‘
so he couldn
’
t get up here before he did. As soon as it stopped he made the effort, not realising how bad the climb would be, hence his dramatic entrance.
’

‘
You are right,
m
’
sieur.
’
Louise started nervously at the sound of the voice and was not altogether surprised to find that it was Jonathan Darrell
’
s hand that lay reassuringly on her shoulder for a moment as she looked wide-eyed to where Henri Dupont stood in the doorway.

‘
I thought I would be,
’
Jonathan said quietly.
‘
You
’
re a member of the family?
’
The dark eyes questioned his authority to speak so frankly and Louise watched with interest to see what he would do. It was all slightly unreal, she thought, and the brandy fumes added to the illusion.

‘
Does it matter?
’
he asked.
‘
And perhaps we may ask why
you
’
re
here, Monsieur Dupont?
’

The question surprised him, Louise could see that, watching the play as if it did not concern her at all. The dark eyes, so like Simon
’
s, narrowed shrewdly as he faced his new antagonist.
‘
I wish no more than
justice for my brother
’
s family,
m
’
sieur,
for his child. I read of this gathering of the wealthy Kincaids for a birthday party and I thought to see this—this wife of my poor brother and get what should have been his.
’
It was obvious that their wealth was what he hated most about the Kincaids, and Louise could not repress a shudder.

‘
You want justice for Robert?
’
she asked, puzzled out of her silence.
‘
But Robert has everything he needs.
’

Expressive hands dismissed her son airily and the shoulders shrugged despair.
‘
Robert? Who is Robert? I speak of Jean, Simon
’
s son by his first wife and in my charge these last five years.
’

‘
Oh no
!’
Louise stared at him unbelievingly.

‘
You didn
’
t know about the first wife?
’
Jonathan asked, and she shook her head, her thoughts spinning wildly round and round and refusing to come to order so that she could think straight.

‘
I didn
’
t know about her,
’
she declared, shaking her head,
‘
I honestly didn
’
t know.
’

Henri Dupont curled a lip.
‘
My brother said you were a fool,
’
he told her, and Louise swallowed hard on the unpleasant truth of it.