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Keir smiled at her indulgently. 'Well, today it will.'
The plane was waiting on the runway; a small, private jet with very comfortable fittings. They took off at five o'clock and were in Somerset within an hour, landing at a private airfield just a few miles from Hartwell. Pam was chattering most of the way, but Liza hardly spoke. Pam was sympathetic, assuming she was airsick.
'Bad luck, Liza. I'm never sick when I travel, thank heavens. My Mum says my stomach's made of cast iron! Have some of this iced water; it's very refreshing with a piece of lemon in it.' Pam had eaten a slice of watermelon and a few strawberries, but the other two had refused—Keir seemed silent, too. Was he regretting having said so much to her about his private life?
She was thinking about him as she stared down at the green and gold of a Somerset landscape while they were descending into it. He led a strange life; full of luxury and privilege but, from what Keir said, nevertheless empty. Had he told her the truth? She didn't want to feel too much sympathy for him, or seem too friendly—in case all this was just another game, another trap for her.
They were met at the airfield by another limousine which drove them through the warm, summer evening at a smooth pace. They first saw Hartwell from a hilltop; it rose out of the formal park and gardens half a mile away and Liza heard Pam give a stifled gasp of admiration and awe.
is that it?'
'That's Hartwell,' Keir admitted, watching her face with a smile.
'It's . . . amazing,' Pam said, giving up a short struggle to find a better word to describe the glory of the house in the early evening sunlight. Bruno had called it a barracks, damp and rambling—but Liza suspected he had run it down the way a mother sometimes talks offhandedly of a much-loved child—Bruno didn't want to let anyone see how much he loved the place. Keir suffered no such inhibitions. He was gazing at it with glowing, possessive eyes and he talked to Pam about it with unhidden pride.
'The main part of the house is classical Georgian; built in the early part of the eighteenth century on a site once occupied by a Tudor abbey which was pulled down during the Reformation—demolished to make way for a big Elizabethan place some years later. That burnt down in 1712 and that was when the present house was started—it's been added to since then, but basically it's the house designed by the owner of the time, with a little help from a succession of architects who all left in high dudgeon because he wouldn't take their advice.' Keir grinned at them and Pam giggled.
'Was he an ancestor of yours, by any chance?' enquired Liza coolly, 'I seem to recognise certain characteristics.'
'Very funny, Miss Thurston,' he said, as they drove towards the portico in the front of the house. Rhododendrons and thorn trees grew close to the drive, forming a dark green tunnel through which they drove.
The limousine drew up right outside the portico, and a butler in a dark suit opened the door and bowed them past him into a great, echoing eighteenth-century hall. Liza's eyes skated around in fascination at the worn wood-block flooring, the dark gold of oak everywhere; on walls and high rafters and the floor. The sunlight made the wood gleam with a deep warmth, but Liza could see why Bruno had called it a draughty house—the ancient fireplace was so enormous that half a dozen men could have stood up in it, and the wind must whistle down there on winter nights.
'Oh, suits of armour!' Pam said, standing close to Liza in awe of the butler's splendid presence, and nudging her secretly, her eyes on the man's haughty face. Keir was talking to him and Pam whispered to Liza, imagine having a butler!'
'What would /do with a butler?' Liza whispered back, which made Pam start to giggle and drew Keir's eyes to them again.
'Norton will show you to your room,' he said and the butler picked up Pam's case from the floor and inclined his head with a faint smile.
'This way, miss.'
'When are the others arriving?' Liza asked Keir, who had told them that Nicky Wallis and his crew would make their own way by road, bringing their heavy equipment, and that Terry Lexington was coming with them.
'Later tonight, in time for dinner.'
Pam was following the butler, but glancing back at Liza, a little alarmed at being left alone with the awe-inspiring figure in the plain black suit.
'I'd better catch her up or she'll be struck dumb with horror,' Liza said, smiling and Keir smiled back.
'She's charming.'
'Yes, very unspoilt—I'm hoping to keep her that way.' Her eyes held a spark of aggression and he eyed her drily.
'Don't look at me like that; I won't try to change her. I like her the way she is.'
'She's far too young to cope with you,' Liza said and his brows met, black and angry.
'Are you hinting that I might make a pass at that child? For God's sake!' He talked through his teeth, looking down at Liza with menace. 'She's not even half my age!'
'I'm responsible for her, I have to look after her,' Liza said, watching Pam taking a turn in the wide, stone staircase leading up from the Georgian hall. The sound of her footsteps on the creamy, weathered stone was very loud, drowning the murmur of their voices.
it isn't me you should be worrying about, then,' Keir said angrily, i don't cradle-snatch, but I wouldn't be so sure about your friends Wallis and Lexington. They both fancy her, I'd say, and they wouldn't have any scruples about age even though they're both older than me.'
'Really?' Liza said in pretended incredulity, turning wide green eyes on him.
He glared at her for a second; then suddenly laughed. 'Very funny, Miss Thurston, but frankly I'm not too flattered that you take me for the sort of guy who tries to seduce teenagers.'
Liza flushed and started to walk away towards the stairs. He caught her arm and held it, looking down at her probingly, with apology. 'That wasn't any sort of dig, Liza. I'd forgotten for the moment. . . was he much older than you? If he was married, I suppose he must have been. It was bad luck, Liza, meeting someone like that first time around, but we aren't all bastards, you know. I won't chase little Pam.'
