AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘So did I at your age, except I wasn’t allowed to read Ian Fleming,’ she said wryly.
‘How old do you think I am?’
‘Is this another guessing game?’ She sighed at his steady stare. ‘Fourteen,’ she said, adding a year to her best estimate for the sake of his young male ego.
‘Fifteen,’ he corrected gloomily.
‘Oh…well, what I said actually still goes,’ she consoled him. ‘My mother thought the Bible was the only book worth reading. Novels were a big no-no in our house.’
His thin face took on an expression of sheer horror. ‘You weren’t allowed to read any fiction at all?’
She shrugged. ‘Not at home. I used to keep a stash in my locker at school, though.’
‘But that’s censorship! You should have told her that she couldn’t violate your rights like that,’ he said, showing he was a true child of the modern age. ‘I’m allowed to read anything I like.’
‘Lucky you. I guess your mother must be a real liberal, huh?’
‘I don’t know. Clare lives in America. My parents divorced when I was born, and I stayed with Dad.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘Why?’
She was taken aback. ‘Well…I’m sorry because you didn’t have your mother there when you were a baby,’ she said, stepping gingerly.
‘Why? Don’t you think that men can single-parent as well as women?’
Regan rolled her eyes. She had a feeling that this gangly youth might well best her in a debate. A question seemed to be his favourite form of reply.
‘Look, I really have to go.’ She couldn’t believe she had stood here chatting when Adam might already be back on the prowl. She had to find out what he was doing here and whether it was going to be possible to avoid him. If he was just a visitor maybe she could keep out of the way long enough for him to think he had made a mistake…
‘Sir Frank and Mrs Harriman are probably wondering where I am.’ She hesitated, looking around.
‘The house is back that way.’ He pulled his hand from his pocket and pointed over her left shoulder.
‘Thanks.’ She still hesitated.
‘If you turn right when you get to the bark track behind that tree big fern you’ll come out of the bush by the front flower garden,’ he added.
She gave him a sharp look, but his thin face was telling her nothing. If he was willing to help her, he surely couldn’t be in league with Adam.
‘OK—thanks again. Bye…’
‘See you around,’ came the laconic reply.
She paused, looking over her shoulder. ‘Will you?’
‘Probably.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m Ryan.’
She wondered what test she’d passed that he was willing to honour her with the information so far stubbornly withheld. ‘I’m Regan. I’m here to help Mrs Harriman organise her granddaughter’s wedding.’
Something flickered in his eyes, but he didn’t respond and she offered him a cheerful wave and went on her way.
She discovered that her trust in him was justified, and five minutes later she was politely greeting Hazel Harriman in the drawing room at the front of the house and apologising for the state of her hands.
‘You look as if you’ve been pulled through a hedge backwards, lass!’ Sir Frank said, when she’d explained that she had strayed off the path amongst the trees and tripped over some creepers.
‘Trust you to be blunt to the point of rudeness, Frank,’ said the tall, thin, elegantly dressed woman on the Victorian sofa. Her strapped right ankle was propped on a footstool and a lightweight fibreglass cast covered her left arm from the base of her fingers to her elbow. A single crutch was propped against the arm of the sofa and an open Brides magazine lay on the polished mahogany occasional table beside her knee, along with the remains of her afternoon tea.
