A Masterful Man

CHAPTER SIX

Was he right?

The thought crossed Davina's mind time and time again over the next couple of days. And she realised that perhaps what had shaken her most was how Steve Warwick had so accurately captured her 'before' and 'after' image. But the other thing that she had at the back of her mind all the time was the feeling that he'd really washed his hands of her this time-and the little shaft of pain the thought of that brought.

There were certainly no further demonstrations of any interest on his part, not that she saw a great deal of him. But when they did cross paths, he treated her perfectly normally, which was to say, as usual, that depended entirely on his mood. He was certainly not an easy man to live with, although his grandmother and his stepmother would be enough to try the patience of a saint, she caught herself thinking once with a curious mixture of humour and wryness, and caught her breath as she wondered if there wasn't a little streak of tenderness in her thoughts as well.

Fortunately, just as Loretta had predicted, Lavinia did get herself into party mode and decided to kick off the proceedings with a cocktail party for thirty people, a combination of island residents and some very interesting people she'd met, she said.

Does she waylay them on the beach? Davina wondered. Loretta answered that on another occasion. Apparently, Lavinia consulted the register of the Warwick guest-house for likely candidates. All the same, the preparations for the party gave Davina little time for much else. And little time to notice that Loretta was acting in a slightly mysterious manner-that was to say, she didn't notice at all that Loretta had commandeered the sewing-machine from a laundry cupboard because she'd been unaware of its existence, and was unaware that a lot of the time she supposedly was taking a siesta, Loretta was actually doing something quite different.

In fact, the mystery didn't reveal itself until the afternoon of the party. Davina had wondered if Lavinia would insist she attend and had geared herself to refuse quite categorically but the subject hadn't come up- perhaps Lavinia had assumed it was a fait accompli?

Then Loretta came downstairs and into the kitchen at about three o'clock with a pile of violet material in her arms that she held up dramatically to reveal as a dress.

'Oh, that's lovely,' Davina said, as she polished glasses. 'Should suit you beautifully.' And noticed Candice, who was helping her, glance at her strangely. Lavinia was also in the kitchen filling crystal and silver bowls with nuts.

'Not me, you!' Loretta said triumphantly.

Davina put down her tea-towel. 'What do you mean?'

'I've altered this dress for you to wear tonight. I've never worn it myself and, contrary to what you believe, my dear Davina, this colour will suit you much better than it would suit me because it matches your eyes almost exactly.'

Davina counted to five then said steadily, 'But I'm not coming to the party, Loretta.'

'Of course you are!' Lavinia intervened. 'Apart from anything else, Loretta has spent so much time making you a dress!'

Davina narrowed her eyes. 'You-don't tell me you two have been in cahoots over this?'

Loretta gurgled. 'Strange, indeed impossible as that sounds, nevertheless it's true.'

Davina rose and said stiffly, 'Well, I'm sorry to have to break up this entente cordiale but I'm not coming as a guest, and that's that. For heaven's sake, there's enough to do as it is!' she added feelingly.

'Such as what?' Lavinia enquired. 'The cold snacks are made-so are the hot ones. The chicken wings, savoury pastries and those lovely little sausage rolls you made only need heating up at the right time. Between us, we can cope with that. And Steven is a very good barman!'

'I can help him there,' Candice chimed in. 'He showed me how to pour champagne once.'

'No.'

'Davina!' all three entreated.

'Look,' a different voice said, 'just leave her be.'

They all swung round to see Steve leaning his shoulders against the doorframe and regarding them impatiently.

'Thank you,' Davina murmured.

'But why?' Loretta said fervently.

'It's got nothing to do with you, Loretta,' he replied curtly. 'If Davina prefers to be a recluse, that's her affair. As for all this partying,' he turned to his grandmother irritably, 'just don't get carried away, Lavinia, because it's not particularly how I enjoy spending my rather precious time on this island.'

Lavinia snorted. 'You're in some danger of becoming a recluse yourself these days, Steven Warwick!' she retorted.

'Then, beloved, that is entirely my affair, too. Just don't push it, Lavinia,' he warned.

Lavinia sighed frustratedly. 'I had so hoped you'd be in a good mood this evening,' she said mournfully.

'I will be, so long as there's no more of this nonsense.' And he turned to Candice and said lightly, 'What do you intend to wear, pumpkin?' Which was an occasional endearment he used that appeared not to faze his prickly half-sister at all. Indeed, she looked gratified and told him that Davina had starched and pressed one of her dresses and promised to blow-dry her hair so that she could wear it loose.

'What would we all do without Davina?' was his only comment, although it was loaded with irony and accompanied by a curiously mocking little look at Davina, not lost on any of them, as he strolled out again. 'He can be so difficult sometimes!' his grandmother bemoaned.

'He can also be a right bastard sometimes,' his stepmother reflected.

'Well, I quite like him,' Candice said.

And Davina said abruptly, 'I'll come-please, don't say a word, I've changed my mind, that's all.'

'You have to admit, I'm not bad at what I do! I mean, it was all guesswork really.' Loretta stood back and admired her handiwork.

Davina stared at herself in the mirror and could only agree. The violet dress fitted her perfectly and was perfectly stunning-a taffeta sheath with a loose, slightly fuller overdress of filmy georgette. It just skimmed her knees, had a halter-neck top, a low back and a cyclamen trim that gathered the bodice in and became the ties behind her neck. The combination of the two colours was exciting, the cut and lines were exquisite and the whole thing seemed to flow with her body.

'What do you think?' Loretta asked.

Davina turned to her with a faint smile, 'You're a genius, but it's a bit more revealing than-'

'Perish the thought!' Loretta commanded. 'What's the use of having a figure like yours if you don't make use of it?'

Davina heaved an inward sigh and once again castigated herself for allowing Steve Warwick's mocking look to goad her into trying to prove to him that she wasn't a willing recluse. But the deed was done… 'What are you wearing?'

'Something a lot more revealing, darling,' Loretta purred. 'I mean to say, you can't even see your cleavage and a bit of back is hardly anything shocking!'

'OK! OK-it is a lovely dress and thank you for all the work you've put into it but you shouldn't have.'

'I enjoyed every minute of it. And there are these to go with it.' 'These' were matching suede violet pumps and pale grey tights. 'I've got the feeling we've got the same size feet.' Davina slid her foot into one shoe and nodded. 'So-take half an hour off, relax a bit, and come out looking wonderful,' Loretta commanded. 'Candy has given me permission to do her hair and Lavinia is already in her war-paint and revelling in being temporarily in command of the kitchen-I'll leave you to it!' And she waltzed out of the chalet joyfully.

Davina sighed again then slipped out of the dress and went to wash her hair.

An hour later she was ready.

She'd put her hair up loosely and put on a pair of drop pearl earrings, her only jewellery. She'd also used more make-up than she normally wore, some shimmering grey eyeshadow and mascara as well as a film of foundation, but she'd done it all with the lightest touch so that although it was barely perceptible, she felt finished.

Outwardly, that is, she mused as she stared at her reflection in the lovely dress. Inwardly, I feel about as much in a party mood as if I were going to the guillotine in a tumbril-damn! This is ridiculous. Why did I let myself in for it?

Because you wanted to show Steve Warwick something, she answered herself ruefully, and squared her shoulders suddenly and added, so do it.

Lavinia was in the kitchen when Davina returned to the house about twenty minutes before the guests were due to arrive. And, as Loretta had mentioned, she was dressed and ready and looking marvellously regal in black lace with her short cap of silver hair elegantly styled and with a strand of the most exquisite pearls Davina had seen around her neck. Causing her to say, genuinely, 'You look wonderful, Mrs Warwick!'

'Thank you, child,' Lavinia responded and looked down complacently at her lace dress. 'I may not patronise Loretta C, but I didn't get to eighty-two without knowing a thing or two about clothes myself.'

'Eighty-two!' Davina said before she could stop herself.

Lavinia positively glowed. 'Surprised you there, didn't I? I surprise most people-it all comes from healthy living and having a mind of your own. You look very nice yourself, I must say, although-well, no-'

'Say it, Lavinia.' Steve walked into the kitchen and came to stand in front of Davina with his eyebrows raised expressively as he looked her up and down and murmured, 'A change of heart, Mrs Hastings? One could almost say you've gone from the ridiculous to the sublime in that dress.'

Davina knew she was blushing and knew there was not a thing she could do about it, as his gaze moved upwards from the slim length of her legs clad in filmy grey to come to rest briefly on the almost bare skin of her shoulders then clash with her own gaze.

'Well, I was going to say that Loretta sometimes undresses people rather than dresses them-heaven alone knows what she will be wearing herself!' Lavinia soldiered on. 'But Davina seems to be able to carry it with dignity, don't you agree, Steven?'

He turned away at last and smiled with genuine amusement at his grandmother. 'Oh, she does.'

For a moment Lavinia looked perplexed-but only for a moment. 'I had thought you might wear something more formal, Steven,' she started, but he cut her off with another smile.

'Now, you didn't really, did you, Lavinia?' he mocked. 'When have I ever dressed up for one of your cocktail parties?'

His grandmother regarded his plain white fine lawn open-necked shirt and khaki trousers-all of which had been ironed to perfection by Maeve-his tamed tawny hair and the look of irony in his eyes and said frustratedly, 'Well, what do you think, Davina?'

Davina blinked and was conscious that, quite unfairly, Steve Warwick privately took her breath away a little whatever he wore… 'Er…'

'Yes, Davina, what do you think?' he drawled, turning back to her, his eyes alight with sheer devilry.

She bit her lip, and said stiffly, 'It's got nothing to do with me.'

'I thought you might say that,' he replied sweetly. 'There you are, dear Grandmama, it's no good appealing to Davina, she-er-refuses to involve herself with me. So you'll either have to be a lot cleverer or more subtle about whatever you have in mind-do I hear someone arriving?'

Lavinia, who had been looking from Davina to Steve, and particularly at the way Steve hadn't taken his eyes off Davina, with something like dawning comprehension in her own eyes, came to with a start and bustled out of the kitchen so far as anyone as regal as she could ever be said to bustle.

Leaving the two of them alone, and leaving Davina feeling like a mouse in a trap, and hating it. 'Why did you do that?' she hissed, her eyes dark and angry. 'That was as good as telling her… telling her-'

'Telling her the true state of affairs between us, Davina?' he queried softly and moved his shoulders slightly. 'To tell the truth, I don't entirely know why I did it either, but it might have had something to do with you in that dress.' His eyes lingered all the way down her body then came back to hers. 'Be that as it may, do you really think you can hide from them? Loretta and Lavinia? I have to say I doubt it-why do you think they jockeyed you into this position in the first place? So we might as well have it out in the open and be done with all the innuendoes et cetera. That's what I think,' he said placidly.

'Think what?' Loretta flowed into the kitchen all in silver and, surprisingly, the dress covered her from her neck to her wrists to below her knees, pleated, tissuey, billowing and with not a square inch of exposed bust or back to be seen. And she had a large silver bow binding her black hair.

'I thought you said you were wearing something similar to this-' Davina broke off abruptly and frowned.

'Changed my mind,' Loretta replied laconically. 'There are some things you can't fight, and outshining you in certain respects tonight is one of 'em, apart from defeating the purpose-er-' She broke off, looked fleetingly chagrined with herself then turned nonchalantly to Steve and repeated, 'Think what?'

But he was laughing silently at Davina's slightly murderous expression, and it was a moment before he said, 'See what I mean? Loretta,' he added to his stepmother with absolutely false and suddenly assumed gravity, 'you're quite right, Davina and I are going through a bit of hell because we took one look at each other and were wildly intrigued, but to Davina's mind there's absolutely no future in it. So there's no need for any further probing little forays to be indulged in between you and Lavinia, not to mention presenting Davina to me rather like a bait on a hook-that is how things stand. Why, pumpkin-' his hazel gaze came to rest beyond Loretta where Candice stood rather shyly in the doorway '-now you do look like Alice in Wonderland. Can I take you to the party?' And he crossed the room, took Candice's hand in his and led her out, much to her obvious joy.

'Bastard,' Loretta muttered as she looked around, plucked a bottle of champagne from a silver cooler, popped the cork with a minimum of fuss and poured a glass of it. 'Here, drink this. Sit down-don't look like that, he's only a man but they can be absolute hell sometimes, talking of those things!'

'I…' Davina tried to steady her trembling lips as she did sit down rather suddenly. 'He… how could he?'

'I know,' Loretta said soothingly. 'Come on, have a sip. The thing is,' she went on after Davina had had several sips of champagne, 'you don't have to take anything lying down from him.' She grimaced ruefully and said, 'I didn't mean that literally, but just give him as good as you get! If I were you, I'd give him a right royal run for his money-that's the way to handle them.'

'Talking of running, all I want to do is run away right now,' Davina said hollowly.

But Loretta was outraged. 'Don't you dare! That would be as good as admitting everything he's saying about you is right!'

'I don't… I'm not sure what he is saying,…'

Loretta cocked an eyebrow at her. 'That you're a coward?' she suggested softly. 'That's one of their favourite themes,' she added knowledgeably.

'But don't you see?' Davina said distraughtly. 'I just don't want to get into those kind of…pride and ego tussles, or whatever they are, with any man!'

Loretta shrugged. 'How right you are, but-' she paused '-Steve…I've never known him to actually chase a woman like this, and I mean in a no-holds-barred, don't-care-who-knows kind of way. I think you must have affected him rather deeply, Davina.'

'He promised,' Davina said bleakly. 'He promised he'd let it be.'

'Then it looks as if he can't-honey, if I were you I'd think twice about Steve. For all that he can be a bastard, he's got a hell of a lot going for him, and I don't only mean in a material sense. He's a man who would certainly look after you and I can't help thinking you need a bit of looking after.'

'But I want someone to really love me…' Davina stopped desolately, then went on with a shrug. 'All we've done so far is fight. You see-'

But Lavinia swirled into the kitchen at that point and said sternly, 'Come, girls. All our guests are here and it's not their fault that we have a domestic dispute in our midst. I need all hands on deck, now!' And she stalked out.

'Our guests!' Loretta marvelled at the same time as Davina said dazedly,

'A domestic dispute!'

They stared at each other until, reluctantly they had to smile. Then Davina sighed, but Loretta said, 'Chin up, chicken! I don't care what you show Steve Warwick, but you're going to show him something tonight! Let's go…'

'You're Davina Smith-Hastings, aren't you?'

It was an hour after she'd been more or less forcibly led into the party and she had to admit it had gone quite well. Lavinia had immediately taken her under her wing and introduced her to people simply as Davina, a friend of ours. But she'd still been sufficiently disturbed not to be able to take in many names or faces, and grateful that everyone she'd met had had a ready supply of small talk. One or two of the women had even commented on her dress and asked her where she'd got such a divine creation. And gradually she'd calmed down and been able to feel like just another guest among the cheerful throng, although she'd given Steve a wide berth. She had not, however, failed to notice a dark, attractive girl in red who appeared to have a slightly proprietorial attitude towards him, and had wondered if this was Loretta's contender from the island. But at all times, for a while, she'd had either Lavinia or Loretta standing by. Now, though, they'd both disappeared, into the kitchen, she guessed, and she was confronting a short, dapper man whose face was vaguely familiar and who had managed to jolt her out of her preoccupation. 'Why?' she said briefly. 'How is Darren?' A nerve moved in her jaw as she said tautly, 'Who are you?'

'Paul Grainger,' he replied easily. 'We were introduced earlier but I got the feeling the name didn't mean much to you.'

'It does now, Mr Grainger,' she replied coldly, 'and the face. But I refused all your television station's requests for an interview on your programme, and nothing has changed.' He shrugged. 'Do you know I have a film crew here on the island, Davina?'

'So what?' she said baldly.

'Well we're here to do a documentary on this unique place; I plan to introduce little segments like that into my programme, but it would certainly have-er-some added value if I could capture Darren Smith-Hastings' ex-wife say, cycling around the place. I could even speculate on why she is employed as a housekeeper, your true position with the Warwick family, I believe, although-' he looked her up and down '-one has to wonder whether Steve Warwick mightn't be your next project. Oh, look, there are so many things I could speculate upon. Did you marry Darren for his money, for example? Did you desert a sinking ship when he lost it? I could even put him in touch with you! The last time I interviewed him, which was not so long ago-he's making some sort of a comeback-he sounded as if he had a bit of a score to settle with you. He mentioned that you only married him to get your father out of the mire. Or-' he paused '-there is an alternative.'

'What?' Davina said in a strangled voice. 'You could give me an interview, Davina. In some faceless room on the island, so no one would know where you are. And you could tell me all about your turbulent life with Darren Smith-Hastings-'

'I think not,' Steve Warwick said from behind Davina. 'You know, Paul, I've never liked your gutter brand of journalism but this is entirely unethical, and it's with no regret that I must ask you to leave. Moreover, if I find you lurking anywhere around Davina, that is something you will regret.'

Paul Grainger stood his ground for nearly a minute then he murmured, 'Well, well-she has got you in. I just hope you don't get a touch of the shorts, old man. Goodnight.'

'Here.'

'No. Don't feed me any drinks, please,' Davina said rather blindly. 'It happens to me too often these days.' 'Sit down, then,' Steve Warwick said and put the brandy he'd poured her on a table beside a couch. They were in the den with the door firmly closed although the party had started to wind down, and he'd got her there with the minimum of fuss.

'You know what's going to happen now, don't you?' Davina said tightly instead of sitting. 'We're going to become an item on his ghastly little social round-up. And the papers will pick it up and…' She did sit down then.

'Now do you understand why I-'

'Yes, but he could have bumped into you on the beach, Davina. So it was Darren Smith-Hastings,' he said meditatively. 'I wondered if you'd cut your name in half.' 'So what if I did?' she said shortly. 'Do you think he wants you back-it sounded a bit like dog-in-the-manger stuff, to me.' 'He doesn't,' she said bleakly. 'You seem very sure of that.' She rubbed her face. 'I am. All he was trying to do, I would imagine, is retain some part of his reputation by coming over as the wronged husband, particularly if he's trying to make a comeback.' 'I see.'

She looked up wearily and stared at him for a moment.

Then she said flatly, 'You don't believe me, do you? At best, you're wondering about that too now, aren't you?'

'No.'

She got up abruptly and moved restlessly across the room. 'I'll have to leave. I-'

'Davina, I said no.'

'I'll still have to leave,' she murmured impatiently. 'And go where?'

'I don't know, but-'

'So you're afraid Darren Smith-Hastings is likely to pursue you if he finds out where you are, in a mood of-vengeance, say, despite what his public face is?'

She shivered suddenly and whispered before she could stop herself, 'Yes…'

There was silence for a couple of minutes as she stared out of the window through a sudden haze of tears. Then he said, again from right behind her, 'Well, I think in that case your best bet is to throw your lot in with me, my dear. Because, for one thing, he doesn't scare me in the slightest.'

She froze, then turned convulsively, her lips working as she struggled to speak but no sound came, her eyes wide and shocked.

'While, for another thing,' he said barely audibly as he looked down at her and raised a hand to touch her cheek, 'we want each other and there's not a damned thing we can do to change it.' 'No.' She swallowed. 'I mean there is…' 'No, you were right the first time, Davina, there's not. Let me show you.' And his arms closed round her and for the life of her, despite her agitation and confusion, it was impossible not to feel safe suddenly. 'Steve…'

But he started to kiss her, deeply and searchingly, and his hands moved on her body finding the curve of her waist, the swell of her hips, caressing the bare skin of her back and moulding her to him. Then he moved one hand to her hair and the pins she'd used fell out and he spread his fingers through its thick, silken disarray before he released the halter bow at the back of her neck-and all the while he held her against the strong, hard length of him and kissed her as she'd never been kissed before. So that she was conscious only of him and the intimate plundering that neither hurt nor repelled her but did strange things to the pit of her stomach, as if a slow fire was starting to burn and spread through her whole body. A languorous warmth sparked with a dangerously mounting sense of excitement, a tingling all over her, a sense of relief that she could be made to feel like this after all, and a sense of wonder at the marvellous feel of him against her. A desire to explore him as he was her and feel the muscles of his back and shoulders under her hands, the taut diaphragm, to see her skin against his…

But she gasped as he lifted his head at last, gasped a little for breath, but also because she hadn't wanted it to end, and because his long fingers drew the front of her dress away, exposing her breasts. 'Steve…' Her eyes were suddenly wary. But he said, 'Shh… I'm not going to hurt you.' Nor did he, as he still held her with an arm around her waist and used his free hand to touch first one nipple then the other and the most exquisite sensation ran through her body.

'Oh, God,' she whispered and tilted her head back, closing her eyes as those fingers strayed briefly to the soft skin beneath her arm and then he bent his head again and trailed his lips down the column of her neck to the valley between her breasts and, once again in turn, took each nipple in his mouth.

'Steve…please…' Her body trembled in his arms with desire and unthinkingly she raised a hand and pressed it through his hair. 'It's too much…'

'Perhaps you're right-for here,' he murmured, raising his head and looking into her eyes. 'But now do you see, Davina?'

She couldn't answer as her lashes fluttered up and down; she couldn't breathe properly, she found. Her pulses were still racing and she yearned for him to touch her again because it had been the sweetest kind of torture she'd ever known, and it was more than torture to have to stop… As the weight of all this hit her, delicate colour flooded her cheeks, her neck and her breasts, and her eyes dilated suddenly.

'Hey,' he said softly. 'Don't for one moment think you're alone. Letting you go now is going to take about every ounce of will-power I possess, but I've just had a thought.' And he moved her slightly away so he could do up her dress. 'There,' he said with a faint, grave smile and his arms still around her. 'Almost proper. Will you be all right if I leave for a few minutes?'

'Y-yes,' she stammered, 'but-'

He kissed her forehead. 'Don't worry about it, and don't go anywhere; I'll be right back.'

He was gone for about fifteen minutes, however. During which time Davina took several minutes to get herself under some sort of control.

She picked up her scattered hair pins from the carpet and tried to put her hair up again, but there was no mirror so she gave up and combed it as best she could with her fingers. Then she noticed the glass of brandy on the table and had to stifle a slightly hysterical bubble of laughter after she'd taken a large swallow of it. Finally, she stood in the middle of the room with her arms protectively around her and thought, Would it be so bad to be looked after for a while? Even by a man who is a mystery in a lot of ways?

And he is, she thought with sudden intensity. He may be able to arouse me as no other, but can he ever love me? I don't know… I do know he can be hard sometimes, and does he even believe in lifelong love? Why hasn't he found it yet? Is there some secret in his past I don't know about? Why do I get the feeling he could be as cynical in his own way as I am? Does he know that I sometimes feel contaminated…?

The door opened and her eyes jerked to Steve Warwick's in sudden fright. 'What is it?' he said with a frown. 'I…' She cleared her throat. 'What are you going to do? I couldn't-' She stopped uncertainly.

He studied her upturned, pale face for a moment, then his lips twisted. 'Neither could I. So we're going away. Don't worry, I've sorted it all out with that pair of ill-assorted matchmakers. Come.' And he held out his hand to her. 'Or do I have to kiss you again to make you?' he added very quietly.

She blushed, hesitated, but he took her hand and led her out of the den.

'Where are we going?'

'You'll see.'

Davina twisted her hands in her lap and tensed as they approached the turn-off to the airfield but Steve drove past. Tensed because her bag and camera case was on the back seat of the Land Rover with another bag-his, she presumed. To a guest-house, then? she wondered as they drove past Blinkys and on to Lagoon Road. I couldn't stand that, it would be as good as telling the whole world!

But he drove past the last guest-house and in the twilight past Old Settlement Beach and up, it appeared, towards the Catalina crash site. But, as the road petered out and she knew there was only grassy paddock riding up towards the contours of Malabar, he turned off into a driveway almost hidden by huge trees and pulled the Land Rover up before an old small house, nearly lost beneath the Norfolk Pines and Sallywoods surrounding it.

'Please, tell me what this is,' she said breathlessly.

'A retreat,' he said lightly. 'It's the original Warwick dwelling on Lord Howe. Lavinia actually came here as a bride sixty-odd years ago, and lately she's restored it. I'm not sure whether for sentimental reasons or because she's toying with the idea of opening it to the public as an example of how they lived in bygone eras on the island. I don't know if I'd let her do that,' he said meditatively. 'She keeps telling me I have no use for it now I've built the other house but it's nice to come back to sometimes. Come inside and tell me what you think.'

'It's…' Davina stopped and looked around in wonder again, a bit lost for words. Because the cottage-and it was no larger than that and lit with kerosene lamps- was like taking a step back in time. The walls were wooden, vertical pine planks a little uneven in places and stained a warm honey colour. The sitting-room and kitchen were all in one, with a huge fireplace surrounded by cream and pink floral cretonne-covered fat armchairs and sofa at one end and a large black, aggressively polished range at the other. The furniture, dining table and chairs were a mixture of natural and white painted pine and there were tapestry footstools in front of the armchairs, starched white curtains at the window and copper-based lamps with pretty floral glasses around the wicks. There was also a mantel running right round the room about three-quarters of the way up the walls from which pictures hung with their strings exposed in the old-fashioned way, and ornaments sat upon-some of them even Limoges, she thought with a lift of an eyebrow. 'It's wonderful,' she said at last. 'Come and see the bedrooms.' There were three, and he left the main bedroom to last. Davina caught her breath as he ushered her in ahead of him. Because it was dominated by a beautiful brass and white enamel old four-poster bed that was clothed all in crisp white. A white linen cover edged and trimmed with exquisite handmade lace, white broderie anglaise-covered pillows piled up on it and two bedside tables, also covered in white linen skirts with more lace and satin bows and two matching sets of delftware basin and ewer. There were blue and white handwoven rugs on each side of the bed and a marvellous brassbound pine glory-box at the foot of the bed.

She couldn't resist the smile that curved her lips as she surveyed the room. 'Like it?' he queried.

'It's lovely,' she said genuinely. 'But-'

'I know,' he said with a wry lift of his eyebrow. 'Lavinia has gone a bit overboard here. I don't remember this room like this. The laundry and starching work alone involved would be horrific. But I believe it did all belong to my great-grandmother-she just kept it in the box, mostly.'

Davina smiled again and then turned tohim with her expression sobering. 'How long…I mean…?' She couldn't go on and moistened her lips.

'How long do I plan to keep you here?' He looked into her eyes, observed the shadows there and reached out absently to tuck a tendril of hair behind her ear. 'Only aslong as you want to stay.'