Пэнни Джордан – One Summer At The Castle: Stay Through the Night / A Stormy Spanish Summer / Behind Palace Doors (страница 17)

The first indication that driving Mrs Ferguson’s car wasn’t going to be a sinecure came when Rosa reached the first corner and tried to turn. The wheel was like a dead weight in her hands, and she realised that it had no power steering. Of course, she thought impatiently, wrenching the car round manually. The installation of power steering in small cars like this was a comparatively recent innovation.

It made driving much harder, and her arms were aching by the time she’d negotiated the twists and turns down to the harbour. It was easier once she was driving up the road out of the village, but she wasn’t looking forward to the journey across that lonely stretch of moor.

The rain hindered visibility, too, and once or twice she was sure she saw ghostly figures rising out of the mist. But it was only the skeletal trunks of trees worn bare by the winds that raked the boggy scrubland. Nevertheless, she was glad she didn’t have to drive across here in the dark.

At last she reached the road that wound down into the glen where Kilfoil Castle was situated. She couldn’t see the castle, of course. The driving rain made that impossible. But now and then she glimpsed a farmhouse, and the unmistakable presence of livestock. She even saw a farmer herding some cows into a barn.

She relaxed. She’d made it. The only problem now was getting in to see Liam himself. She had the feeling Sam wouldn’t be too pleased when she presented herself at the door. But he must know she hadn’t left the island. Surely he might expect that she’d try to see his employer again?

She drove over the small bridge and parked in the same place Liam had used four days ago. Four days! She was amazed. Was that really all it was? She grimaced. Sometimes it felt as if she’d been here half her life.

She got out of the car, closing the door with care. No one had come to meet her, and she was curiously loath to announce her arrival in advance. Squaring her shoulders against the squally wind that blew in off the ocean, she crossed the forecourt to the double doors.

There was no bell, but she’d hardly expected one. Knights of old hadn’t needed such things. In the books she’d read, the knight’s lady would be watching for her spouse from one of the narrow windows in the solar, or perhaps a vigilant guard would warn of a stranger’s arrival. The portcullis would be lowered to protect those within the castle—

‘Miss Chantry!’

Rosa had been so absorbed with her thoughts that she hadn’t heard the door being opened. But now the housekeeper stood there, regarding her with obvious surprise.

‘Oh, Mrs Wilson.’ Rosa knew she should have been better prepared for this encounter. ‘Um—how are you?’

‘I’m very well, thank you.’ The woman cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. ‘Is there something I can help you with, Miss Chantry?’

‘I hope so, yes.’ Rosa smiled. ‘Is—er—is Mr Jameson about?’

It was a stupid question. Rosa knew that as soon as the words left her lips. Where else would he be?

‘Mr Jameson?’

The housekeeper sounded doubtful, and she hurried on, ‘Yes. I mean, is he working this morning? Or could I have a quick word with him?’

‘Oh, I—’ Once again Mrs Wilson looked back over her shoulder. ‘I’m afraid that’s not a question I can answer, Miss Chantry.’ She hesitated, and then went on, ‘You’d have to ask Mr Devlin.’ She nodded. ‘I’ll get him for you.’

‘No, I—’

Rosa started to say Sam Devlin was the last person she wanted to see, but it was too late. The woman had already turned and hurried away, leaving Rosa to cool her heels on the doorstep like some pushy double-glazing saleswoman.

She could have invited her inside, Rosa thought, disheartened. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been inside the castle before. For heaven’s sake, she’d spent a night here. Why was she being treated like an intruder?

Because that was what she was, she’d decided, when she heard Sam Devlin’s footsteps crossing the hall. She’d just nudged under the overhang, in a rather fruitless attempt to keep dry, but she stepped aback almost instinctively when the man appeared.

However, Sam was surprisingly more charitable than the housekeeper. ‘Och, come away inside, Miss Chantry,’ he exclaimed, stepping back to allow her to enter the huge hall. ‘It’s a wretched morning, to be sure. You’ll be wishing this storm would ease, no doubt. I dare say you’re eager to get back to the mainland?’

‘Yes.’ Rosa had little option other than to agree. ‘Um, I’m sorry to trouble you again, but I still haven’t spoken to Mr Jameson.’ She paused, and then went on rather recklessly, ‘You did give him my message, didn’t you?’

‘What message would that be, Miss Chantry?’

Rosa sighed. She should have known his charity wouldn’t stretch that far. ‘Well, that I wanted to speak to him again,’ she said stiffly. ‘If the ferry hadn’t been delayed, I’d be gone by now.’

‘So you would.’ Sam regarded her consideringly as he closed the heavy door. ‘But, contrary to what you believe, Miss Chantry, I did tell Mr Jameson what you’d said.’

‘Oh. Oh, I see.’ Rosa felt foolish now, and her face burned with sudden colour. ‘What you mean is, Mr Jameson didn’t want to speak to me, is that right?’ She swallowed her humiliation. ‘Well, that’s all right. I realise now I shouldn’t have bothered him.’ She turned back to the door. ‘Thank you for telling me.’

‘Wait!’ As she fumbled with the latch, Sam spoke again. ‘Look, Miss Chantry,’ he said, and now he sounded a little embarrassed, ‘I didn’t mean to imply that Liam had refused to speak to you. As a matter of fact I don’t know what he might have done if—if…’ He hesitated, as if he didn’t want to go on, but courtesy demanded it. ‘If he’d been able,’ he finished at last. Then, after another pause, ‘He—er—he hasn’t been too well since you left on Tuesday. And that’s the truth.’

Rosa was dismayed at the effect his words had on her. ‘Is it his leg?’ she asked, realising she was stepping onto unknown ground, but anxious enough to take the risk. She linked her cold fingers, pressing them at right angles to her chest. ‘Please—tell me.’

Sam frowned. ‘You know about his injuries?’ he asked warily, but Rosa wasn’t brave enough to claim that.

‘Just—just that he seems to be troubled at times,’ she admitted, shifting from one foot to the other. She stared at him. ‘Doesn’t he?’

‘Perhaps.’ Sam was noncommittal. ‘But as it happens he got soaked when he was out with the dogs on Tuesday afternoon, and since then he hasn’t felt very sociable.’

‘You mean he got a chill?’

Sam was evidently unhappy talking about his employer behind his back. ‘Something like that,’ he admitted at last. ‘As you’ve learned to your cost, the weather here can be unpredictable.’

‘You don’t mean it developed into pneumonia?’ exclaimed Rosa, aghast, and Sam gave a helpless shake of his head.

‘Och, no,’ he said half impatiently. ‘Nothing so dramatic. Just a—nasty cold, is all.’ He paused, and then added ruefully, ‘Liam’s no’ a good patient, Miss Chantry.’

‘Do you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?’

The unexpected sound of Liam’s voice caused them both to start in alarm, and Sam instantly looked as guilty as hell. ‘God, man,’ he protested in a shaken voice. ‘Do you have to scare us half to death? I didn’t hear you.’

‘Obviously not.’ Liam left his position at the foot of the tower stairs and walked heavily towards them. He noticed that Rosa was looking as if he was the last person she’d expected to see, and that annoyed the hell out of him. This was his house, dammit. Who had she expected to see? ‘What’s happening?’

Rosa gazed at him in total confusion. After what Sam had been saying, she’d imagined Liam weak and vulnerable, worn out by coughing and sneezing and blowing his nose.

But the reality was much different. In his usual tight jeans, the fabric worn almost white in places she wasn’t supposed to look, and a long-sleeved silk shirt, the colour of which exactly matched his eyes, he looked darkly disturbing—and just as dangerous as Luther Killian, she was sure.

‘Miss Chantry—’ began Sam, but Rosa knew she couldn’t allow the older man to take the blame for her intrusion.

‘I came to see you,’ she broke in quickly, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. ‘Mr Devlin was just telling me that—that you hadn’t been well.’

‘I just told her you had a cold,’ exclaimed Sam swiftly, and Rosa wondered at the look that passed between the two men at that moment. ‘That’s all.’

‘Yeah.’ Liam accepted his explanation. Whatever faults he might have, Sam was excessively loyal. He wouldn’t talk about Liam’s private affairs with anyone.

He returned his gaze to Rosa, noticing that she was shivering now. But whether that was because she was only wearing a light jacket or because he’d frightened her, he couldn’t be sure. ‘Well, Miss Chantry,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You’d better come with me.’

Rosa’s eyes were wide and anxious. ‘All right,’ she said, giving Sam a grateful look. ‘Thanks for your help, Mr Devlin.’

Sam stiffened. ‘It was my pleasure, Miss Chantry,’ he insisted. Then, as she started after Liam, ‘Will you be wanting a lift later?’

‘Oh, no.’ Rosa gave him a tight smile. ‘I borrowed Mrs Ferguson’s car. But thanks, anyway.’