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‘Well, Lucy, what do you say?’ His voice had dropped caressingly as he came to stand beside her, both of them framed in the light from the french window as he pulled her into his arms. Lucy had to fight against flinching away from him, praying that he wouldn’t guess at her real feelings. For Saul’s sake she mustn’t betray to Neville what she was feeling, at least until she had had the chance to tell Saul what he planned. Who knew, she thought feverishly, her mind chasing round in frantic circles, perhaps, with his stepfather’s business acquaintances, he might be able to raise enough money for such a conversion himself?
‘For old time’s sake? Remember what a fool we made of him that summer? Wouldn’t you enjoy doing it all over again?’
Urging herself to play for time, Lucy swallowed her loathing of all that her cousin was suggesting and said huskily, ‘Perhaps.’
‘Of course you would. This place should have been yours, not his. You’ll use your charm to get round him then?’ he asked, referring once more to the solicitor. ‘It shouldn’t be too hard.’
‘I’ll do my best.’ Her voice sounded breathless, strangled by her dislike of what she was doing and her panic that Neville might guess that she was lying.
‘You’d better leave,’ she cautioned him. ‘Saul will be back soon.’
He frowned and then nodded his head.
‘Perhaps you’re right. How long do you think it will take you to bring him round? A couple of days?’
Him? Once again Lucy realised Neville was talking about the solicitor. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll give you a ring.’
‘Umm. I’ll give you a ring the day after tomorrow to see what progress you’ve made.’
She had to force herself to stand still when he kissed her, loathing the feel of his mouth against her own. But at last she was free, her mind and stomach both churning hopelessly as she watched Neville disappear through the french window. Seconds later she heard the roar of his car engine fade into the thick silence.
Dear God, she hoped that Saul would be back soon. There was so much she had to tell him. She couldn’t work, not now, so instead she went back to the Dower House intending to shower and change for the evening.
CHAPTER SIX
SHE heard Saul’s car as she was putting on her make-up, her fears forgotten as she flew to her bedroom window in time to see it disappearing up the drive.
Disappointment ached through her that he had not thought to stop, but then, she reasoned to herself, he was not likely to realise she was here. She glanced at her watch. Almost half past six, not too early surely for her to turn up for their dinner date?
She decided to walk to the house, and passed Mrs Isaacs on the drive as the other woman was on her way home. She slowed down her car and leaned out of the window to say worriedly to Lucy,
‘There’s something worrying Mr Saul. Came in in a real strange mood he did, and now he’s in the library drinking whisky.’
Worry etched a small frown line on her forehead as Lucy hurried up to the house; even allowing for a degree of embellishment Mrs Isaacs voice had held enough genuine anxiety to make her wonder what had happened. Had Saul received another telephone call from America? Was his stepfather’s health showing more signs for concern?
She called out to him as she entered the hall and receiving no reply hurried into the library. The moment she saw his face all her worries about Neville and his plans left her. Saul was frowning, nursing a glass of whisky, as he turned to look at her broodingly.
‘Saul what on earth’s wrong? Is it your stepfather? Is something wrong at home?’
As she flew towards him, it seemed for a second or so that he almost flinched back from her, but no, she must have been mistaken because his fingers were now curling round her upper arm, almost painfully tightly she realised, but such was her concern for him that she didn’t bother to draw this to his attention.
He was looking at her in a very odd way, she realised, searching her face, almost desperately.
‘Saul… What is it?’ She reached out pleadingly towards him, smelling the spirit on his breath. ‘Something’s happened, hasn’t it?’ she demanded positively.
His mouth curled into a totally humourless smile, his expression one of such frozen bleakness that it made her shiver. She had never seen such a cold look in anyone’s eyes before.
‘You could say that, but now isn’t the time to talk about it!’ He was abrupt with her almost to the point of dislike.
‘Would you prefer me not to stay?’
She had to ask him the question, barely recognising the man who had been so tender towards her in this cold, almost frightening stranger.
