Strange Adventure Read online

  `I'll wait for you here,' she said hurriedly.

  'Is the coffee so bad?'

  `What?' Then she understood. `Oh—no, it's excellent. I'm just not very thirsty.'

  `You're not very truthful, either.' He-came round and opened her door. 'Out you get, pethi mou. Unless you want me to make you.'

  She gave him a glance of pure fury, then scrambled out, icily ignoring his helping hand.

  They were served their coffee beside a log fire in the lounge where comfortable leather sofas and armchairs were grouped around small oak tables. The waiter who served them was a stranger to her, and she decided optimistically that she had a fair chance of drinking her coffee and getting out of the hotel before the Hendersons spotted her. Consequently she gulped down the contents of her cup and had a burned tongue to add to her other indignities.

  `You seem in a great hurry.' To her chagrin, Troy Andreakis reached for the pot and poured himself a second cup. `But we have plenty of time in spite of our delayed start. Tell me, where would you like to have lunch?'

  'I don't care,' she snapped childishly.

  He raised his eyebrows. 'Haven't you a saying—"Don't care was made to care"? Perhaps you should bear it in mind, pethi mou.'

  `I'm sorry,' she said sullenly. 'I just don't like being made

  to feel conspicuous, and I'm—hardly dressed for eating in restaurants.'

  'Perhaps not. But maybe I wanted to teach you a lesson.' 'What lesson?' She looked at him defiantly, challenging the mockery in his eyes.

  'Not to play games with me unless you are a good loser—which I doubt.'

  'I have no desire to play games of any kind with you,

  Mr Andreakis,' she said as coldly as she could have wished. 'I'm disappointed,' he said calmly. Tor I like to win. I

  would, also like you to call me by my given name.'

  'No!' She felt herself recoil as violently as if he had,

  leaned forward and placed his hand on her breast. 'Why not?'

  She floundered a little. 'Because I don't consider I'm on terms of sufficient intimacy with you to warrant it,' she replied stiltedly at last, and regretted the words even before she saw the glint of his sardonic smile.

  'I'm prepared to become as intimate with you as you wish,' he said almost idly. 'But I .confess I'm surprised you wish to go to such lengths merely to justify yourself in calling me Troy.'

  `You know perfectly well I didn't mean that,' she said, her cheeks hot.

  He laughed. 'Wouldn't it be easier to stop this fencing and do as I ask?'

  `Perhaps,' she replied stonily. 'But I don't regard that as a valid reason for obeying you.'

  `And what would you regard as a valid reason?' He drew sharply on the cheroot he was smoking.

  `Loving you,' she almost and disastrously said, but bit the words back just in time before they could become yet another target for his sardonic amusement.

  'I can't think of any,' she said lamely at last, as the lengthening silence showed signs of becoming embarrassing.

  'Not even the expressed wishes of your parents?' His voice was deceptively soft and she looked at him in sudden alarm.

  'I—I don't know what you mean.'

  'No?' His smile was not pleasant. 'Then your efforts

  to charm me last night—that dress, your perfume, your whole manner—were not part of a campaign to persuade me to prop up your father's ailing bank? My apologies for having totally misread the situation.'

  She sat stricken for a moment, then very carefully replaced her coffee cup on the tray while she tried to calm the tumult within her his words had aroused. Her dominant feeling was one of total humiliation—for having allowed herself to be involved in the scheme in the first place, and for having failed. She had done her best for her father's sake, but her best had not been good enough. What fools they had been to imagine even for a moment that they could pull the wool over the eyes of a man like Andreakis! Tears of mortification pricked at her eyelids. She tried to smile, to treat the whole thing as a joke instead of the disaster it was.

  `Was I so obvious?' She attempted to speak normally in spite of the appalling dryness of her throat.

  The dark eyes bored relentlessly into her. 'Not you alone.'

  'I see.' She was silent for a moment. `I—I've no excuse to make, Mr Andreakis. It was just that my father's—a sick man and I love him very much. I'd do anything for him.' She stopped short, her face flaming, as the man beside her moved, suddenly, restlessly. Far better if she had remained silent than have embarked on a naive, foolish attempt to gain his sympathy. The fact that it was true would not concern a man like Andreakis, she thought bitterly. There was no point in hoping that he would help her father now. On the contrary, she could visualise the saturnine pleasure that refusal would bring him. Hadn't he already warned her that he liked to win? This victory would cost him little.

  `Shall we go?' He drained his cup and set it back on the tray. Lacey stared at him nonplussed. -

  'Go—where?'

  `On to the coast. That was the plan, if you remember.' He stood up, shrugging his broad shoulders into the leather 'coat.

  She looked down at the carpet. `I think I'd prefer to go home.'

  `Oh, I have no doubt of that,' he said coolly. 'But you promised me a day in your company, and I intend to hold you to your word.'

  `I wouldn't have thought my company had a great deal of appeal for you.' She hated his tallness, the way he towered over her. It reminded her of the previous night when she had been as helpless as a doll against his strength.

  `I think I have yet to learn what your company is.' His dark eyes were brooding as they went over her. 'In the past twenty-four hours I've encountered a hostile chambermaid, a fledgling seductress and a sulky schoolgirl. Which of them is the nearest to reality, I wonder?' He paused, but Lacey did not reply. 'I suspect it was the girl who played the piano for us all and then ran away. You care for your music very much, I think.'

  `I wanted to make it my life,' she said desolately, and stopped, horrified at the pain she had let him see.

  `You seem to thrive on fantasy, pethi mou,' he said bleakly. 'Some time, you should try the real world. It may not be as bad as you think. Permit me.'

  She stood awkwardly, trying not to flinch away as he helped her on with her coat. ·

  `Besides,' that note of amusement she so disliked was back in his voice, 'you should not be so eager to escape from me. Hasn't it occurred to you that I might still be persuaded to help your father—if the terms were right? I am sure you have not reached the limits of your persuasiveness.'

  She faced him stonily. 'And hasn't it occurred to you, Mr Andreakis, that this is the very reason why I didn't want to be alone with you ever again? Last night I—made a mistake which I shall always regret. But you insult me if you think I might be willing to compound that error today.'

  He smiled oddly. 'Everything is different in daylight, pethi mou—is it not? If you must know, I too regret last night, but for a very different reason.'

  She felt her cheeks grow warm again as she walked ahead of him into the foyer and towards the door. His meaning

  was obvious, she thought angrily. He regretted that her complete seduction had not been an accomplished fact. But not because she meant anything to him as a woman. Oh no, she did not flatter herself to that extent. Simply because, as he'd said himself, he liked to win.

  She had hoped against hope that he would change his mind and take her home in the face of her implacable hostility, but it was the coast road he took again as they left the car park, and she was forced to resign herself to the realisation that he meant what he said. She wondered whether anyone had ever succeeded in defying him, or even merely diverting him from some course of action that he had decided on, and thought it was doubtful in the extreme. She stole a sideways look at him from beneath her lashes, noting the harsh lines of his mouth and the jut of his chin. He was like some dark eagle, brooding and remorseless, she thought, then jeered at herself for allo
wing her imagination to run away with her. He was just so different from her limited experience of men, she told herself emphatically, comparing him mentally with her bluff good-natured father and Alan's rather tentative approach.

  She was thankful that he did not attempt to start any more conversations. He had been right about one thing at least. It was much easier not to fence with him.

  It was warm in the car and in spite of herself she found her eyelids beginning to droop. She forced them open and hastily pulled herself into a more upright position on the thickly padded seat. But the comfort of the car allied to her restless night and the strenuous couple of hours she had put in earlier at the stables were all combining to bring about her downfall, and within five minutes that insidious drowsiness had crept over her again. This tithe, she succumbed.

  When she opened. her eyes again, the car was motionless, and she was alone. She struggled up to peer through the windscreen, thrusting her hair back off her face. The car was off the road, she realised, and parked on the short stubby grass that led to the dunes. Troy Andreakis was nowhere in sight, and after a slight hesitation, Lacey opened her door and got out.

  The air felt icy and invigorating after the stuffy atmosphere of the car and Lacey felt her sleepiness dissolving away as the salt-filled wind buffeted her. She walked briskly up to the top of the dunes, screwing up her eyes against the flying particles of sand borne by the wind and wishing she had brought her dark glasses to protect them, or at least a scarf to control her flying hair. The early promise of the day had given way to greyness and a hint of rain with come. The sea was grey too and tumbling, flecked with white horses to the horizon. Troy Andreakis stood down by the water's edge, his back turned to her and the deserted beach, staring out across the empty tossing sea.

  She thought involuntarily, 'He looks so alone,' and lifted her hands to her mouth to call him, closing them dazedly over her lips instead when she realised what she had been going to do. Either she was still half asleep, or else she was a complete fool, she told herself vehemently. Besides—she felt a sudden need for self-justification—even if she had called to him, the wind would have carried her voice away and he would never have heard her.

  Almost as if he could read her thoughts, he turned and looked at her and she saw him lift a hand to acknowledge her presence. Slowly and reluctantly Lacey gave a half wave, then as he began to come back across the beach with his long easy stride, she turned abruptly to go back the way she had come, moving unwarily, forgetful of the soft, treacherous sand. The dune began to crumble and though she threw out a wild hand at a tuft of tall grass to save herself, she found herself sliding ignominiously, half covered in sand, to the beach below. Before she could drag herself free, he was beside her, his hands hard as he lifted her bodily out of the sand and set her on her feet.

  She had wrenched her ankle as the sand started to slide, and she winced slightly as she tested her foot on the ground. `You are hurt?'

  `It's nothing. I should have taken more care.' She could not tell him that it had been a sudden, illogical need to run from him that had got her into this predicament, but she stood smouldering with resentment as he went down on one knee to examine her ankle with practised fingers.

  'No bones broken,' he, commented, standing up and brushing the sand from his pants.

  'I never thought there would be,' she returned coldly.

  He gestured towards the dunes. 'Do you wish me to carry you back to the car?'

  'No,' she said sharply, and could have kicked herself when she saw the mockery leap in his eyes.

  'It was only a chivalrous offer, pethi mou. This is hardly the ideal moment for making love among the sand. I have Greek blood in my veins, but not Spartan. You are quite safe to accept my help, I promise you.'

  She had to admit that she was glad of his supporting arm as he assisted her to limp up the slope and across the grass to the car. She was not badly hurt, but her ankle was throbbing sufficiently to make her quite thankful to collapse back on to the car seat.

  'Your accident has not spoiled your appetite, I hope,' he remarked, sliding in beside her.

  'I wasn't hungry before it happened,' she replied coolly.

  He shrugged. 'Then you will have to watch me eat.'

  But Lacey's stubborn resolution to do precisely that vanished when they arrived in the small village on the other side of the bay, and he parked outside the small quayside hotel advertising bar lunches. Pride seemed unimportant -compared to the bowls of thick home-made broth they were brought, and the wedges of French bread packed with ham, lettuce and chicken and served with a variety of delicious pickles.

  Eventually Lacey leaned back against the wooden settle with a sigh of repletion. 'That was wonderful!'

  'I am relieved. I could hardly have returned you to your father unfed as well as injured.'

  She ignored the satirical note in his voice and drank the rest of her tomato juice. She had almost allowed herself to forget that sooner or later she would have to tell her father and Michelle that their hopes of persuading Troy Andreakis to lend financial aid to Vernon—Carey had sadly misfired. She shivered inwardly as she remembered Michelle's insistence that she was prepared to go to any lengths to save the bank from ruin. She did not relish her stepmother's probable reaction to the news that last night's

  charade had been a complete fiasco. And she would almost certainly be blamed for the failure, with a certain amount of justice, she supposed unhappily, because she could not pretend that her heart had been in the scheme. She had simply not been capable of sustaining the role Michelle had wanted her to play. Almost any of the girls she had known at the convent would have managed it better, she thought drearily.

  'What's the matter?'

  Shaken out of her thoughts, she glanced up startled into the dark brilliance of his gaze.

  'Er—nothing,' she responded lamely.

  He sighed sharply. 'Why do you lie to me? Your face is a mirror to your thoughts and I can tell that you are in trouble. And don't say that it is my presence that bothers you. A moment ago you were almost in charity with me.'

  `I've told you—it's nothing,' she repeated stubbornly, and saw the angry compression of his mouth.

  Poli kalo,' he said icily, and turned to reach for his wallet from the inside pocket of his driving coat. Lacey turned away too and looked out of the window, lashed by the rain which had begun in earnest while they were eating their meal. It was as if the weather was reflecting her own disquiet, and the storm she knew would be waiting for her when they got back to Kings Winston, she thought miserably.

  Lacey stood staring out of the drawing room window into the gathering dusk. She had just spent over an hour at the piano trying to force, her oddly lethargic fingers through the limbering exercises of scales and studies, but had eventually given up in disgust.

  The inquisition she had dreaded had failed to materialise so far. When she had arrived back at the house with Troy Andreakis after a long drive in almost total silence, it was to find that Michelle had taken the car and gone shopping in Westford, while Sir James was resting in his room according to his specialist's instructions.

  Lacey knew that in her stepmother's absence it was up to her to fill the role of hostess and see that their guest was properly entertained, but the thought of having to

  spend any more time exclusively in his company frankly appalled her. Probably he felt the same, she thought, for he had not shown as much as a flicker of resentment when she had rather defiantly announced her intention of going upstairs to have a bath and change her clothes.

  Nor had he joined her later for afternoon tea which Mrs Osborne had served in the drawing room. Her father too had been absent, and when Lacey inquired for him, the housekeeper mentioned that she believed he was in the billiards room with Mr Andreakis. Lacey wondered as she sipped her tea and ate one of the featherlight scones whether it was really billiards or a game for much higher stakes that was being fought out behind the closed door. It sent a little chill of
apprehension curling along her spine, but she knew that whatever happened she was powerless to intervene.

  She knew that it was anxiety that had come between her and her music. Even as she touched the keys, she found herself wondering whether the piano would be hers for very much longer. If Vernon–Carey was ruined, as now seemed likely, she supposed they would lose everything, including this house where she had been born. It was an agonising thought, but it had to be faced.

  She was almost relieved when the shrill of the telephone broke in on her brooding thoughts, and a faint smile touched her mouth when she heard Alan's voice at the other end.

  'Lacey? Great news. Domino has foaled—a little filly. How about coming out with me this evening to celebrate? Funds are a bit low, but I can manage a visit to the new Chinese restaurant in Westford if that would appeal to you.'

  Lacey was hardly in a mood to celebrate, but she could sympathise with Alan's delight over the new foal, and she had to admit that she would be glad to escape from the uncomfortable atmosphere that reigned over the house—as if it was waiting, hushed, for news of some disaster. It would also mean a further delay in the inevitable inquisition as to why her stepmother's scheme to save the family fortunes had gone wrong.

  Alan was obviously delighted at her agreement to go out with him, and arranged to call for her in about an hour's time. Lacey decided that the dark green dress she was wearing with the long tight-fitting sleeves and slightly flared skirt would be ideal, topped with her new coat. She would put on some make-up, and brush her hair out of its neat ponytail, she thought, and turned towards the stairs to go to her room.

  'Lacey.' Her father's voice reached her from his open study door. 'Can you spare me a few minutes, my dear? I want to talk to you.'