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Authors: Henrietta Reid

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“No, I’m not,” Caroline retorted crossly, “and if I had fallen it would have been your fault for creeping up on me.”

“Creeping up on you? My dear good girl, I’m not in the habit of stalking members of my staff.”

So she was being put firmly in her place, Caroline thought disconsolately; he was letting her know that her impulsive remark was not at all the way an employee should address the master of Longmere!

“No, on the contrary, far from creeping up on you, I’ve been watching you for some time.”

“Oh, I didn’t see you,” Caroline said lamely, wondering if her childish pleasure in the task had been all too transparently revealed in her face.

“Hardly, since I took the trouble to stand well out of your view,” he admitted blandly. “Here, give me that smug-looking doll before you manage to damage it beyond repair. ”

Unconsciously she had been twisting the filmy wings so that it now had a faintly lopsided appearance. Laughing, she hastily tried to repair the damage caused by her restless fingers.

“And it’s no laughing matter, young lady,” he announced gravely, as he mounted the opposite site of the ladder and took it from her fingers. For a moment he held the little doll, regarding it thoughtfully. It was indeed smug-looking, Caroline thought, with its blandly smiling face, pink and silver dress and matching shoes and flaxen hair fastened by a diadem of glittering glass beads.

“To think that, as a boy, this was my ideal of ethereal feminine beauty!” Randall said thoughtfully.

“I think everyone feels that,” Caroline said hesitantly. “When one is young the Christmas fairy seems to stand for everything that’s perfection.”

“But time changes all that. Is that what you mean, Caroline?”

She nodded. “Yes,” she whispered. “One begins to notice that instead of diamonds there are glass beads in her hair, and that the silver in her frock is a little tarnished.”

“But then that’s a part of growing up, isn’t it, Caroline? Discovering the flaws in life.”

They were close together, she realized suddenly: she could see the hard curve of his jaw and the tiny lines at the corners of his deep-set eyes as they gazed into hers. She tried to look away, fearful of what she might reveal, but the intensity of his glance seemed to hold her as though by invisible bonds. “Don’t you think you’d better put the fairy on her perch before you do it more damage?” she asked shakily.

He glanced down at the doll, crushed tightly in his large, square-fingered hands. “To blazes with the wretched female,” he exclaimed in exasperation. “Are you deliberately trying to change the subject?”

“What subject?” she asked demurely, revelling a little in her ability to infuriate him.

“You know perfectly well, you devious little wretch!” Scowling, he reached up and rather roughly attached the doll to her perch on the topmost branch where she dangled crookedly, wand in hand, looking, Caroline thought, a trifle disconsolate at her sudden elevation. “There, are you satisfied?”

Caroline nodded doubtfully. “I suppose it will do.”

“You
suppose
it will do! Is that all you have to say?”

“Well, it is a little crooked. ”

“Then let Dick Travers fix it for you. He’s younger and no doubt spryer than I am.”

She giggled as she gazed into his frowning face.

“And what are you giggling at, may I ask?” he demanded.,

“It’s so funny to hear you talk as though you were a decrepit patriarch! ”

All harshness had suddenly left his voice. “No doubt—but then you make me feel so much older, my darling Caroline. You’re so young and fresh and eager for life.” He leaned over, his fingers lightly caressing her face; the youthful clear lines of her cheeks and the tender bow of her lips. “I suppose all the arrangements are made—about Dick coming, I mean,” he murmured.

She nodded. “He’s taking a taxi from the station.”

They were talking, she realized, mundane words, but their eyes were exchanging a very different message.

“But there’s no need for that. Meet him yourself at the station. The more you see of him the better. Perhaps it will help you to know.”

“Know what?”

“Whether you care for him as much as you think. It’s amazing how quickly feelings can change at your age. The person who is wonderful in your sight one day has fallen from eminence the next and has rolled in the dust. However, if he still proves to be the Dick of your youthful days there’s no reason why you shouldn’t end your days as Mrs. Dick Travers.”

Relief mingled with dismay at his calm acceptance of such an eventuality. So he hadn’t guessed then how she felt towards him! How radically her ideas had changed as to what made up the ideal man, since she had come to Longmere!

His eyes were fixed on hers compellingly. She let her own glance fall guiltily as she decided to prevaricate. Not for worlds would she let him know how committed to him she felt. “It’s difficult to know how I feel towards Dick.”

“Indeed, and why is that? It’s unusual for a woman to be unable to read her own heart.”

“I think it’s because things have changed so much—or rather that I’ve changed so much since I’ve come to Longmere. I don’t even know whether I had only a silly schoolgirlish crush on Dick.”

“I’m afraid I find that hard to believe,” he told her dryly. “You’re a very pretty girl, Caroline. Although yours is not the obvious chocolate-boxy, fairy-doll type of face, it would be easy for a man to fall hopelessly in love with you. ”

But his voice had lost its intensity, and he leaned over and touched his lips to hers—almost as one would kiss a child, she thought resentfully.

A discreet cough sounded from the doorway. Caroline started guiltily, but Randall with complete equanimity faced Mrs. Creed’s tight-lipped disapproval. “Yes, what can I do for you, Mrs. Creed?”

Once more he spoke as the remote, authoritative employer, Caroline thought sadly.

“Just to let Caroline know that Fred will help her with the fairy lights if she’s ready for them,” the housekeeper said stiffly.

“Well, Caroline, what about it? Are you ready for the fairy lights?” Randall’s mouth quirked a little at the corners.

She nodded desolately. He was once more the sardonic, detached master of Longmere—and she nothing more than the girl he had picked up one cold wintry evening at the railway station.

CHAPTER SEVEN

WTTH a sigh of relief Caroline tied the last present and placed it under the tree to complete the glowing pyramid of rosette-studded parcels and packages. The fire blazed brightly and from the basket of beech logs beside the hearth came a faint, subtle woody perfume. She had taken care to see that the massive table was protected by a layer of plastic so that no matter how careless and clumsy the children might be the furniture would be spared their depredations. Crimson and gold crackers were piled against the fruit-laden epergne in the middle of the table.

All that remained was for the food to be brought up from the kitchens, and Mrs. Creed had arranged that this should be done while she was at the station so that when she returned all would be in readiness.

As she looked about with a glow of satisfaction, Caroline heard footsteps behind her and turning around she saw Randall surveying the scene with evident satisfaction.

“Everything looks very well,” he remarked. “If the children don’t enjoy themselves, they must be ungrateful little monsters. You’ve certainly done a great job of work on this year’s do, Caroline. I don’t remember things looking as attractive as this in previous years.”

She felt a warm glow of satisfaction at his words. It was not often Randall Craig expressed approbation. Perhaps, for this reason, when he did give his approval it was doubly precious.

He glanced at the pile of presents in their gaily patterned wrappers, completed with rosettes of shining ribbon. “Do you mean to say you did all that yourself?”

She nodded. “I enjoyed it: it was rather fun.”

“Fun? I should imagine it’s pretty hard work. I hate to be a wet blanket, but I can assure you from past experience that the children will ruthlessly tear off your pretty wrappings and strew them to the four winds to get at the contents.”

“All the same, I liked doing it—I mean, selecting the colour of ribbon to tie around a particular wrapping.”

“You mean you were exercising your artistic bent at the children’s expense?” he smiled. “All the same, Caroline, I think it’s time that you received a present yourself, before the storm breaks and hordes of children overwhelm us. You’ve worked very hard and I want you to know how much I appreciate it. ” As he spoke he took from his pocket a small package. “I’m afraid I didn’t get around to wrapping it in seasonable paper,” he said wryly.

Excitement making her fumble a little, Caroline opened the small leather gilt box. In it, nestling on black velvet, was a dainty filigree silver brooch, centred by a single milkily glowing pearl.

Caroline looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Oh, Randall,” she breathed, “it’s lovely!” then realized, too late, that she had called him by his first name.

But he gave no sign of noticing the slip. Taking the brooch from the box, he pinned it upon the white Puritan collar of her holly-green dress. “You can count this as my Christmas present to you,” he said as, stooping, he kissed her lightly on the forehead.

It was at this moment Robin’s voice shrilled from the door, “Oh, look, Mummy, Randall’s kissing Caroline!” He ran up, gazing avidly at the brooch. “He’s given her a present too, of diamonds and rubies and emeralds!”

Grace approached and stood regarding the brooch, a cool smile touching her delicately tinted lips. “Really charming—and unostentatious—so suitable in every way!” she remarked.

Her meaning was only too obvious. Not diamonds, rubies and emeralds, but the sort of gift an employer could give to his employee, without compromising himself in any way.

But Randall seemed oblivious of the subtle insinuation of her words. “Surely you’re a little early,” he said calmly. “The entertainer hasn’t even arrived yet.”

She shrugged. “What about it? It’s not as if Robin’s a stranger here. Caroline can take care of him until the children arrive.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question. Caroline is going to meet our entertainer at the station—who, by the way, is a very special friend of hers.”

“Indeed?” Grace’s finely pencilled eyebrows rose. “So you’ve a boy-friend? You are a sly little thing! ” At this information, she seemed to regard Caroline with more favour. “You’ve made the place very original indeed! The room is quite transformed. All it needs now is the patter of tiny feet. ”

“As to the patter of tiny feet, we’ll soon have that, I can assure you,” Randall said dryly. “Caroline, I think it’s time you were off, otherwise your friend will be hanging about the station stamping his feet.”

As Caroline left the room, she heard Grace say in her light, carefully articulated tones, “Do you always kiss the members of your staff when you’re doling out the Christmas boxes, Randall?” “Only the pretty ones.” She heard Randall’s cool rejoiner and felt a little giggle rise to her throat that, for once, Grace was rendered speechless.

Caroline reached the station as the train drew in: a little apprehensively she watched the passengers get off: she wasn’t quite sure what her reactions would be when she met Dick again and she did so want to preserve the cool, distant impression that she had apparently conveyed in her letter. There were only a few local people on the platform so that she immediately noticed Dick supervising the handling of a surprisingly large number of bags and cases.

He looked up as she approached, a grin of pleased surprise on his boyish face. “So this is what happens when I let you out of my sight for a moment! You turn from a gangling girl into a sophisticated woman of the world!”

She felt a glow of pleasure at the awareness in his light blue eyes. He too had changed, she decided, or perhaps it was that she had simply not noticed his air of brashness: formerly she had looked on him with uncritical eyes. As the porter stowed his luggage away in the boot she was aware that the blue eyes were watching her closely and with an air of flattering assessment.

A little embarrassed by his regard, she said lightly, “What a lot of luggage you have!”

“Don’t be alarmed,” he grinned. “I don’t intend settling in, but I’ve brought along the equipment that I’ll need to entertain the kiddies. From experience I’ve found that they’re easily bored, so one has to be sure there’s plenty of variety—stocking puppets, conjuring tricks, impersonations, the whole works. You can’t fob the kids off with any old thing, you know!”

But she had the feeling that his mind was not really on what he was saying, and as they drove back towards Longmere, more than once she was aware of that assessing pale blue eye fixed on her with silent curiosity.

“Who’d have thought that my adoring fan would have developed into such a stunner?”

“I never was your adoring fan,” she informed him, a little primly.

“Oh, weren’t you? I can still picture the look in your eyes when I presented you with that ridiculous toy. I was even big-headed enough to imagine you were going to keep it as a precious relic!” he added a little ruefully.

“Well, actually, I did keep it,” Caroline admitted, and added, a little hastily, “It’s one of those lovable toys, difficult to part with— and anyway, I’m a bit of a hoarder!”

BOOK: Bird of Prey
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