Winter at Cray (16 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

‘
IS there any sign of your wily Frenchman coming back this morning?
’
Emma Kincaid asked, the following day, and Louise frowned as she tidied the
cushions in the chairs.

‘
No, there isn
’
t,
’
she declared,
‘
and he isn
’
t
my
Frenchman, Great-gran, wily or otherwise.

‘
He
’
ll try again, you see,
’
old Emma prophesied with certainty,
‘
and you
’
d better have Jon Darrell handy to get rid of him for you.
’

Louise thumped the cushions viciously, bending to hide the flush that coloured her cheeks.
‘
I don
’
t need
anyone
to fight my battles for me, she told her firmly,
‘
least of all Jonathan Darrell.
’

She knew the shrewd old eyes watched her and she refused to raise her head and meet them. You
’
ve made up your mind not to like him, haven
’
t you
?’
the old lady chuckled.
‘
Pig-headed, that
’
s what you are, my
girl, just plain pig-headed.
’

‘
All right, I
’
m pig-headed,
’
Louise thumped another cushion into submission,
‘
but I just don
’
t like reporters, and Jonathan Darrell is as thick-skinned as any of his breed and arrogant too.
’

Another chuckle answered her.
‘
Oh, he
’
s arrogant,
’
Emma admitted,
‘
just like my Robert was, and
I
’
ll
bet he
’
s as good at getting what he wants too
!’

‘
I don
’
t doubt it,
’
Louise retorted.
‘
Now can we please change the subject, Great-gran
?’

‘
I
’
ve asked him to have coffee with ne this morning,
’
the old lady informed her, and Louise frowned, looking across at her with reproachful eyes.

‘
You used to ask Stephen to have coffee with you,
’
she told her.
‘
He
’
s very hurt, Great-gran, at the way you
’
ve treated him lately.
’

‘
I
’
ve asked him,
’
her great-grandmother told her, obviously resenting the chiding.
‘
This is only the second time I
’
ve asked Jon instead, and I presume I can ask who I like to drink with me in my own house without causing trouble.
’

Louise sighed resignedly.
‘
Of course you can, darling.
’
She smiled at the small, lined face with its stubborn chin and bright eyes, and glanced at her watch.
‘
It
’
s almost coffee time now. I
’
d better go and see Hannah about it.
’

It was only a few minutes later that she took the tray from Hannah Grayston and earned it to the small sitting-room, but the old lady
’
s visitor was already with her, seated comfortably in an armchair beside her, his long legs crossed casually, completely at ease. He got to his feet and took the tray from her, smiling secretly at her frown of disapproval.

‘
Only two cups?
’
he asked softly.
‘
Aren
’
t you staying?
’

‘
Get another cup,
’
Emma ordered her before she could reply.
‘

‘
But I—
’

‘
Don
’
t be difficult, girl,
’
the old lacy interrupted impatiently.
‘
I feel like a bit of company this morning.
’
Louise glared resentfully at Jonathan, as if he had instigated the order.
‘
Then why don
’
t you come into the sitting-room with the family?
’
she retorted, and saw the old lady
’
s mouth set firm.

‘
Don
’
t be sassy, my girl,
’
she told her.
‘
I can
’
t stand the lot of
‘
em all at once, especially Diamond
’
s silly prattle. She gets more stupid every day, that girl.
’

‘
Great-gran!
’
Louise still stood by the low table where the tray awaited attention.

‘
Great-gran, fiddlesticks
!’
old Emma snapped, thoroughly enjoying herself, Louise felt sure.
‘
Get another cup, girl, then come and pour out the coffee before it grows cold.
’

After a last helpless frown at Jonathan Darrell, Louise did as she was bid and went through to the big sitting-room where the rest of the family were helping themselves to coffee from a trolley.

Stephen looked up and half-smiled when she came in, only to frown a moment later when she took a cup and saucer from the trolley and turned away again.
‘
Great-gran wants me to have coffee with her this morning,
’
she explained, and Stephen
’
s frown deepened into a scowl.

‘
And Darrell,
’
he snapped, and Diamond, overhearing, giggled.

‘
Lucky girl,
’
she told her maliciously.
‘
Have fun, darling.
’

Louise, already angry at having the choice made for her, did not bother to answer either of them, but went back to the small sitting-room burning with resentment. It was not fair, she told herself, that she should have to bear the brunt of the family
’
s jibes when the situation was none of her making.

The old lady and her visitor were already drinking their coffee when she returned, so presumably they had decided not to wait for her and, trivial as it was, her resentment increased when she saw them sitting there. True, Jonathan Darrell rose politely when she came in, but the fleeting half-smile round his mouth and the expression in his eyes when he noted her mood did nothing to pacify her.

‘
You look grouchy,
’
her great-grandmother informed her.
‘
Cheer u
p, girl, things could be a lot
worse and I don
’
t want a skeleton at the feast for my birthday.
’

‘I’m
sorry.
’
Louise poured herself coffee and briefly, over the rim of her cup, caught Jonathan
’
s eyes on her.

‘
Mrs. Kincaid has very kindly asked me to stay on for her birthday party,
’
he told her.
‘
Of course there may be no option, but it looks as if the weather is going to clear enough for a boat to come out before too long.
’

Louise looked across at the old lady reproachfully, then put down her cup carefully before speaking.
‘
Are you going to stay?
’
she asked, and he smiled.

‘
I told Mrs. K.,
’
he informed her,
‘
that as you
’
re the one in charge of the catering, et cetera, I
’
d only stay if you agreed. I don
’
t want to be a burden to you.
’

She was surprised at her own feelings and for a moment sat there wondering at them. Wondering why she did not dread the idea as much as she thought she should. There would be further complaints from Stephen, that was inevitable, but otherwise—

She shrugged, picking up her coffee again, her eyes lowered.
‘
Stay by all means, Mr. Darrell, if Great
-
gran has asked you to, we
’
ve more than enough for two extra as I explained to Essie, but,
’
she hesitated,
‘
haven
’
t you a deadline to meet or something? With your story, I mean.
’

‘
That
’
s no problem with the telephone still working,
’
he told her.
‘
And I
’
m afraid it
’
ll just be me who stays, Essie has to get back.
’

‘
But you
’
re privileged, of course?
’
It was a jibe she should have been ashamed of, she knew, in view of what Essie had told her about the way he worked so hard, but there was only amusement in his gaze when he looked at her and she flushed.

‘
If you like,
’
he allowed,
‘
or you could be more charitable and say that I have several weeks unused leave owing to me and Essie
’
s used all hers, but you have it your way.
’

‘
I
’
m—I
’
m sorry.
’
She sipped her coffee, doing her best to hide behind the inadequately small shield it presented, colouring at the dry chuckle her
great-grandmother
gave.

‘
You shouldn
’
t make snide remarks,
’
the old lady told her.
‘
You asked for that, my girl.
’

‘
It seems I always ask for all I get,
’
Louise retorted bitterly, stung into anger and not a little self-pity.
‘
I suppose I always have.
’
She twined her fingers round the handle of the cup she held, so tightly the knuckles showed white.
‘
Maybe that—that man is right, I
’
m a fool.
’

‘
No more than the rest of us,
’
old Emma consoled her, less sharply now that she realised that it was more than mere sulkiness that prompted her mood.
‘
Don
’
t worry about that Frenchman, Louise, he can do nothing while you refuse to see him again and if he comes here again I
’
ll tell Hannah to get rid of him. Or,
’
she smiled slyly at the man beside her,
‘
you can always get Jon to deal with him for you.
’

Louise shook her head, wishing she had not mentioned Henri Dupont, but he was still on her mind and refused to be dismissed no matter how she tried.

‘
It
’
s a personal matter,
’
she objected.
‘
I can handle it on my own.
’

‘
Don
’
t be so stubborn, Louise! Jon knows all about it and he dealt with him yesterday, didn
’
t he?
’

‘
That—that was different,
’
Louise insisted.
‘
And Mr. Darrell doesn
’
t know all about, only—the bare bones, I believe was what he said, and that
’
s enough as far as I
’
m concerned.
’
A sudden, fearful possibility coming to mind,
‘
You—you haven
’
t included any mention of it in your story about Great-gran?
’
she asked, unable to avoid the pleading both in her voice and her eyes.