Deception (12 page)

'I
fell.' She was quite aware he had moderated his lan
guage for Jamie's
sake, not hers.

'Then
you'd better go and change right away,' he ad
vised,
without a trace of sympathy. 'One bout of sickness
in
the house is all we can afford, for the time being.'

It
must have been because of the successive soakings she
had
endured that all the next day Thea felt hot and feverish. She had an awful
suspicion that she had been overtaken by
one of the sudden severe
colds that she had been susceptible to as a child. By the time dinner was
over and
Jamie had gone to bed, she was feeling quite ill. To her
dismay,
her legs gave out under her and she slumped in a chair by the kitchen table,
wondering how she was to get
upstairs.

Logan
had gone out with a lantern to see to a cow which
was
calving. Thea hoped when he returned he would go
straight to the
library. It worried her when he didn't.
Coming into the kitchen,
he removed his coat before sitting
down to take off his
heavy rubber boots. The sight of his
dark head, as he bent to
undo the laces, affected her oddly,
forcing her to look away.

Not
being able to find the energy to ask about the young
animal
he was tending, and which they all felt anxious
about, she stared down at her hands
lying on the table, wondering why they were so tightly clenched. Murray still
didn't look completely well, but this didn't seem to hide his vitality which
must be a natural and unconquerable part of him. Something dynamic about him
seemed to reach out ruthlessly and touch her. It was a feeling which had begun
on the evening he kissed her and had grown rapidly ever since, in spite of her
efforts to fight it. It wasn't sensible, but then she didn't suppose
anything about her coming here was.

'Are you all right?'

Because her nerves
were on edge, Logan's blunt query made her jump. Deciding hastily that a little
truth might be more convincing than assuring him she was, she looked away from
his suspicious stare. 'Just a headache.'

'You're croaking!'

In slight desperation,
her voice rose. 'It's nothing. I'll be fine—if you'd just leave me
alone.'

'You don't look it.'
He took no notice of her pleading, his voice silky. 'I like to look after my
employees, you know.'

'Don't worry,' she was
stung to retort, 'if I can't work I won't claim any wages.'

The silence which
followed this outburst was so taut it compelled her to look at him. As quickly
she averted her eyes from the cold grimness of his. Did he have to be so
domineering, and angry with it? Surely he didn't expect her to take everything
he threw at her lying down! All the same, she wished she had something of his
strength and height. Beside him she felt absolutely helpless.

In an attempt to
convince him she was near normal, she kept her hot, flushed face turned from
him and said quietly, 'If the calf hasn't arrived yet you'll probably be
staying up until it does.'

'Probably.'

She tried again. Til
make you something to drink and a sandwich, then I think I'll go to bed.'
 

'Go
to bed now, Miss Andrews, and I'll bring you some
thing up with
something in it.'

'No!'
She had to protest against such calculating auth
ority,
and stood up too quickly. Immediately the room began to spin and it was
her own distressed cry she heard as
Logan caught her in his arms.

Muttering
something about women and their natural
stupidity, he strode
upstairs with Thea clinging helplessly to his neck, uncaring for the moment
what he thought of
her. It must be crazy to think, with her head
going around and her stomach churning, that for the first time in her life
she felt completely
secure.

Upstairs,
he laid her gently on her bed where she lay
shivering. He watched the
tremors going through her
slender body with a frown on his
face. 'This room's too
cold,' he exclaimed curtly. 'I'll light a fire.'

'You're
beginning to sound like me!' She tried to laugh lightly, but it didn't sound
right. Her voice was hoarse,
deepening his frown.

He
lifted a rug, placing it over her. 'Lie still,' he com
manded,
'while I get you something. You need heat, both
inside and out.'

Soon
he was back, holding her firmly, making her sip
from a glass of
brandy. Her own hands shook when she
tried to hold the glass
herself and she felt grateful when he
held it for her.

He
had a fire going in no time at all, working with an
efficiency
which might have surprised her if she had been
fully conscious
of what he was doing. The brandy and hot
tea he brought had
appeared to do her good at first, but
now she began feeling
worse. Spasms started shaking her, bringing a fine perspiration to her brow, a
cold, clammy
sensation to the rest of her body.

'I
feel sick, Logan,' she cried wildly.

He
had gone out to wash his hands, but her sharp,
panic-stricken
cry brought him quickly to the side of her
bed. His face was
momentarily startled, as though her
strangled words woke
memories long forgotten. 'You sound
like a child I once
knew,' he said, reaching down for her.
'It's a comfort to know
you definitely aren't a child, I'm
beginning to think,' he
finished enigmatically, as he carried
her to the bathroom.

Here
he held her while she was violently ill, talking to
her
sofdy, his hand on her head, calming and soothing her
when
she began to weep. When it was over she managed
to rinse her mouth
with warm water, but it was Logan who
gentley washed her face
before lifting her in his arms again
to carry her back to bed.

Vaguely
she was aware that her sweater and skirt were damp and stained, but she was
still too dizzy to do anything
about them. She was only dimly aware
of Logan undressing
her, although she tried to protest as her
sweater came over
her head, as she remembered that underneath
it she wore
only scrappy bits of satin and lace, scarcely
worthy of the
name they bore.

'Please,
Logan,' she whispered, her hands going out
blindly to deter his,
'I'm sure I can manage.'

Forcing
herself to look at him, she found nothing in
the impersonal
green of his eyes to alarm her. Yet she felt her pulse jerk wildly in her
throat as he looked at her.

Grimly
he retorted, 'I think the time for false modesy
is past, Thea.
You're ill and you need help and that's all
there is to it. I assure
you there's nothing at all for you to worry about. I'm not sure where all this
is leading to, but
whatever happens, trust me to be able to
handle it.'

 
CHAPTER FIVE

But
could he? Thea didn't think anyone
could handle the
primitive feelings of fever and emotion
which suddenly
raged through her. Yet, as he began covering
her carefully
with her bedclothes, she fought for control
with a formal
remark.

'It's
very good of you to bother,' she didn't look at the
dark
face bending over her as she spoke, 'but I don't think
you should be here.'

As
his hands tucked the sheet firmly around her , she
shivered
as it tightened abruptly. 'Perhaps not,' he replied
dryly,
'but I believe I said more or less the same thing to
you in my room, when
you helped me.'

'This
is different,' she protested weakly. 'I'm only your
housekeeper.
You're not supposed to be looking after me—
not this way.'

His
expression altered slightly, as if he realised this but
had
a mind of his own. 'Things seldom stand still, Thea.
Our
relationship seems to have been far from ordinary from
the
beginning. Some facts you have to face and learn to
accept.
You're a grown woman and you've been around.
You must know men
find you attractive. As for myself, I
always have a strange
feeling that we've met somewhere
before. Maybe,' he added, 'in another life.'

Watching
his indifferent shrug with dazed eyes, she tried
to hang on to her
fast failing sense of humour. 'Maybe I
was your slave, even
then? Centuries ago I might not have
been called a housekeeper.'

'Perhaps
not.' To her astonishment, he flicked her hot
cheek with a soft
brush of his fingers. 'Now try and get
some sleep. You're in no
condition to start solving that
kind of mystery.'
 
     

His touch had soothed,
as he might have intended it should, for her heavy eyes closed and she
surrendered to the darkness which invaded her exhausted body. She felt safe with
Logan beside her, and convinced he wouldn't go away.

Some time later she
woke to find him sitting reading by her bed. It wasn't, she thought, an
agricultural paper, but she couldn't really see. When she struggled to sit up,
an unconscious urgency upon her to prove she was better, he jumped to his feet
and immediately pushed her back against her pillows.

'Stop it, Thea!' His
hands were as firm as his voice as he setded on the edge of the bed to hold her
still, 'Stop struggling, there's a good girl, and you'll soon be all right.'

He must think she was
delirious, as he had been himself.
Recalling
how hot she had been when she had fallen asleep,
she thought this not
improbable. 'Have I been rambling?' she asked breathlessly, doing as she was
told but beseeching him with huge anxious eyes. 'I used to sometimes, when
I had a cold as a child.'

Taking her wrist, he
frowned at the quickening pulse. 'I thought you still were,' he confessed, with
a sigh. 'You've been very restless, I was afraid to leave you for long. But
don't worry, you haven't given any secrets away.'

'What time is it?' she
asked weakly, clinging to his hand.

'Just after twelve.'

'You ought
to.be
in bed.'

He smiled slighdy.
'Twelve o'clock isn't always my bedtime, and you haven't had my undivided
attention, you know. You might be happy to hear that Jamie's pet cow has been
blessed with a rather good-looking son.'

Sudden unpredictable
tears stung Thea's eyelids and overflowed. 'Oh, yes! And won't Jamie be
delighted, too? He has so litde.'

Even
as she spoke, she stiffened, blessing her too-hasty
tongue. Why must she
deliberately arouse Logan's anger with her tactlessness? It surprised her that
he wasn't unduly disturbed.

'Jamie might have a
lot more than appearances suggest,' he paused enigmatically, without taking his
eyes from her. 'If you, my little hothead, would spare a moment to think about
it some time, you might see this. However, there could be some changes in the
near future which might benefit him. I'll admit a man doesn't always make a
good job of rearing a child alone.'

What did Murray mean
by that? Aware of a crushing heaviness of spirit, Thea couldn't bring herself
to ask him. Now that she was living here she didn't want to think about
changes. Confused, she whispered, 'Well, anyway, it was nice of you to look
after me. I do feel better—my fevers never last long.'

'Don't they?'

'No.' To convince him,
she sat up again too quickly and found her head swimming. As the dizziness
caught her she fell forward with a gasp of alarm, straight into his arms.
Swiftly they were there to support her and she clutched helplessly at the hard
muscles of his chest.

'You try too hard!' He
sounded faintly impatient, yet his arms tightened slightly and he didn't
immediately let her
go-

Thea didn't know why
she just wanted to cling to him,
to have the
feeling t>f his arms around her, holding her com
fortingly close.
He would do the same for Jamie or one of his dogs. She wasn't asking for any
special attention, just enough to alleviate the crushing sense of aloneness
which sometimes came over her.

'Logan,' she breathed,
momentarily forgetting the barriers between them, 'would you kiss me?'

As she raised her
mouth, in what she feared afterwards must have been a wanton invitation, he
hesitated, staring down at her. She had forgotten how little she had on, that
she lay, semi-naked, in his arms. All she was conscious of was an urgent need
for closer contact, to establish something which might make her forget the
changes he had re
ferred to. An
underlying necessity to discover if the feelings
he had previously
aroused, when he had kissed her, were real was something she was barely aware
of.