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‘At the time I did not think that. But I do not place great credence in coincidence.’ Shahir regarded her with uncompromising cool.
‘Neither do I, but—’
‘I must be frank. When I learned that the pendant had been discovered in your locker, I recalled the matter of the brooch. Taking those two incidents into consideration, I would find it impossible to accept that you have been falsely accused of theft.’
That unequivocal declaration slammed into Kirsten like a punch in the stomach: she felt sick and she could hardly catch her breath. She did not know why, or even how, but from somewhere she had managed to acquire immense faith in Shahir’s ability to divine the truth. Now that faith seemed impossibly naive. She was in shock as well, because his explanation had added another whole layer of complexity to the theme of her presumed guilt. ‘You honestly believe that I’m a thief?’
‘There is considerable sympathy for your situation. Had there not been, you would have been prosecuted,’ Shahir delivered in a flat undertone ‘You are living in distressing circumstances, and naturally you must want to leave your home. Carrying out that objective requires money. Only today you yourself informed me that you did not plan to be at Strathcraig for much longer.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t mean I was planning to steal jewellery to fund my getaway!’ Her head was aching. She wanted to scream with frustration and sob with anger and fear and hurt. She felt horribly isolated and misjudged. She had done nothing wrong, yet a plausible case had still been made against her. People thought she had resorted to pilfering because she was desperate to escape her unhappy home life. No doubt her bruised face had made it even easier for some to believe that she was guilty as charged.
‘I intend to give you the financial help that you require to leave your home.’
Her head flew up, green eyes suddenly bright as chipped emeralds as furious mortification took hold of her. ‘No, thank you. I won’t accept money from you!’
‘I want to help. It is only right that I should. I may not be able to condone theft, but I can comprehend your desperation.’
Rage was pumping through Kirsten in an adrenalin rush. She did not trust herself to speak. She tried to open the car door, but it remained infuriatingly closed.
‘The door is locked as a security measure. What I have said may be unwelcome to you, but I am not your enemy,’ Shahir murmured dryly.
Kirsten flung her head back. ‘Oh, yes, you are! I trusted you, I had faith in you, and I don’t know why! I had this stupid idea that somehow you would know that I didn’t take that pendant! Instead you’re accusing me of having tried to steal the brooch as well. Let me out of this car!’
‘Calm down. You are being foolish.’
‘No, I’m not!’ Kirsten raged back at him, a flush of pink mantling her delicate features. ‘I’m not a thief, and I don’t want your wretched charity. Maybe you’d like me to disappear into thin air because you slept with me, but I’ll leave Strathcraig under my own steam and in my own good time—and I don’t need anything…least of all help…from you!’
Hard dark golden eyes slammed into hers with the efficacy of a missile hitting a direct target. ‘Control yourself. That is enough.’
He had not raised his voice. He did not need to do so. His intonation carried enough measured force to quell a riot. Quivering with angry distress, Kirsten sucked in oxygen and expelled it again in a shaken surge. She did not want to control her temper. She was afraid that if her anger dimmed her strength would sink with it, for even in the midst of hating him with all her heart she was conscious of the terrible shock and pain of his misjudgement.
‘Whether you accept it or not, I care about what happens to you,’ Shahir asserted. ‘I would not otherwise have asked you to marry me.’
‘Your conscience cares, but you don’t really care!’ Kirsten condemned in fierce argument.
‘I would like to know that you are safe and unharmed, and there is no guarantee of that in your current environment.’ He settled an envelope down on the seat beside her. ‘Use it or burn it. The choice is yours.’
‘It’s great to have more money than sense, isn’t it?’
Shahir ignored that childish crack. ‘Are you prepared to press a charge of assault against your father?’
‘No.’ Kirsten shook her head vehemently.
‘Then you cannot be protected from him. Have you no relatives who might intervene on your behalf to reason with him, or who might offer you a home?’
Mute, she shook her head again. Her parents had both been only children. ‘I have a brother, Daniel. He quarrelled with my father five years ago and left. I don’t know where he is. He hasn’t phoned or written home since then.’
‘Were you close to your brother?’
‘When we were kids, but goodness knows where he i
s now.’
‘It might well be possible to have him traced and found, but that would take time. It would seem that your only immediate option is to leave Strathcraig. I am offering you my support to do that.’
‘What support? Your cash? You’ve let me down.’ With pained satisfaction, Kirsten watched his angular masculine jawline clench at that condemnation.
‘Regardless of what you believe, I am concerned for your welfare. If you leave the glen, you must let me know where you are.’
