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‘No. No need. It is settled. No need for money. But no need to walk. I take you back, yes?’
Prudence felt a sudden twinge of alarm. What exactly was she doing? And then, with shock and something like excitement, she realised that she didn’t know—and what was more, she didn’t care. All her life she’d made plans and followed the rules and what good had it done her?
She shook her head. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘No, thank you. It’s not far and I’ll enjoy the walk. If you could just get my suitcase from the boot?’
She waited impatiently as the driver got out of the car and went round to the rear of the vehicle, releasing the boot to take out her case. He placed it beside her and she pulled up the handle and tilted the case back onto its wheels. She smiled her thanks at the driver and then turned and, heart thumping in her chest, began to walk back towards the castle.
Part of her expected to hear the driver call out, or turn the car round, but nothing happened and after a few moments she realised that for the first time since she’d agreed to go to Hungary she felt oddly calm—happy, even.
Finally she reached the tall iron gates. She stopped and drew a deep breath and, reaching out, pulled firmly on the handle. And pulled and pulled—and pulled again, and again, with increasing desperation. But it was no good: the metal creaked but the gates stayed obstinately shut.
For a moment Prudence stood pink-cheeked and panting, and then she let out a low moan. Of course—they were electric. She glanced wildly around for a bell but there wasn’t one. There wasn’t even a nameplate. How was she supposed to get back in?
She stared up and down the road but there was no sign of anyone, and finally she turned back to the gates, feeling her earlier bravado slip away. So that was that. Her one and only act of rebellion—over before it had even started. Looking up, she stared sadly at the stone wall.
Or was it?
Frowning, she glanced down at her high-heeled court shoes, and then in one swift movement she had kicked them off and tucked them firmly into her suitcase. Perfect! She took a couple of steps backwards and stared assessingly at the wall, and then, with as much strength as she could manage, she hurled her midsized case upwards. Holding her breath, she watched as it flew high into the air and over the top of the wall. It landed with a heavy thump on the other side.
Sighing in relief, she grabbed hold of one of the damp stones and began to pull herself up. It was easier than she’d thought it would be, and climbing down was easier still. She had just stepped back from the wall with a self-congratulatory smile when abruptly she felt a sudden rise in tension. The air stilled and her skin began to prickle. And then the breath seemed to ooze out of her lungs like a balloon deflating as she heard a familiar voice.
‘Good morning, Miss Elliot! I’d like to say it’s a pleasure to see you again but we both know that wouldn’t be true, don’t we?’
Prudence reluctantly turned round to find Laszlo watching her, his hands in his pockets, his face, as usual, unreadable. Dressed casually in jeans and a black polo shirt, his hair tousled, he looked younger, more carefree than he had done last night, but there was an intensity to his stillness that felt almost predatory to her.
‘This dropping in on me is becoming a bit of a habit, isn’t it? If I didn’t know better I’d say you had designs on me,’ he observed slowly. ‘I must say that I’m a bit surprised—although perhaps surprised isn’t the right word. Shocked might be better; or outraged—or perhaps offended. Given that you appear to be in the process of breaking into my home.’
Laszlo thrust his hands deeper into his pockets. Actually, as he’d watched her clamber down the wall he’d felt something closer to fear than anger—for what would have happened if she’d fallen and he hadn’t been out walking the grounds?
Even though she was back on solid ground, Prudence felt her nerves scrabbling frantically for a footing. A sidelong glance at Laszlo did nothing to improve her composure: he seemed almost preternaturally calm. But there was no point in her having come back if she was going to let him intimidate her from the outset and, gritting her teeth, she held her head high and met his gaze defiantly.
Finally he shook his head and said lightly, ‘So. Did you come back to rob me? Or just to check that you’d finished me off with your suitcase?’
Prudence stared at him, her face white with shock. ‘Of course I didn’t come back to rob you!’ She stopped speaking suddenly, momentarily confused. ‘Wh—what do you mean, finish you off?’
Laszlo raised his eyebrows. ‘What do I mean?’ he repeated quietly, his expression cryptic. ‘I mean I was taking an early-morning stroll, quite happily minding my own business, when suddenly I was nearly poleaxed by that.’
He glanced behind him and Prudence saw her suitcase lying on its side in the grass.
‘That is yours, isn’t it?’
She bit her lip and he watched her eyes darken, the black swallowing the grey, and then slowly she was smiling, and then she burst out laughing.
‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘It’s not funny. I’m sorry—I really am.’ She bit her lip again and tried to stifle a giggle as he shook his head, his eyes gleaming and golden beneath their dark lashes. And then, just as suddenly, his jaw tightened and it felt as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown into her face.
‘It’s a miracle you didn’t injure someone. My grandfather often rises early and walks around the grounds.’ He looked at her evenly. ‘But I suppose no one was actually hurt, so I’ll accept your apology. However, that doesn’t explain why you’re sneaking over my wall just minutes after I saw you leave in a taxi.’
Prudence felt her face turn hot with embarrassment and fury. ‘I wasn’t sneaking!’ she snapped. ‘I had to climb over the wall because the gates were locked.’
Again Laszlo raised an eyebrow.
‘Indeed they are,’ he said softly. ‘They keep out unwanted visitors. Usually.’
Feeling clumsy under his cool scrutiny, but refusing to be intimidated, she turned to face him. ‘I am not an unwanted visitor. I am here to do a job—a job I was hired to complete by your grandfather. You might want to send me packing but it’s not your choice to make.’
Laszlo studied her impassively. He’d thought nothing could ever surprise him again after finding Prudence in his sitting room last nigh
t, but that was before he’d watched her scramble back into his life over a huge stone wall. And now she was refusing to leave unless his grandfather agreed to it.
