Part 6 (2/2)

This was the back of the house, Joanna realised, and they crossed the yard to a large kitchen that smelled deliciously of home baking.

Although it was not much more modern in design than the kitchen at Ravengarth, everything shone with the evidence of much polis.h.i.+ng, and she thought how much more pleasant it would be to work in surroundings like these.

Paul's mother must have heard the Land Rover, for she came into the kitchen from the hall beyond, just as Paul and Joanna entered from outside. At least, Joanna a.s.sumed she was his mother, sharing as she did her son's fair good looks, his solid youth replaced by spreading middle age. Her hair was only slightly grey, and her round face was virtually unlined, revealing that she probably enjoyed her own cooking as much as anyone.

She wore a navy blue dress and a flowered ap.r.o.n, and her expression held mild interest as she surveyed the young woman with her son.

'We've got a visitor, Ma,' Paul told her easily, confirming Joanna's identification. 'She's from Ravengarth, and her name's Joanna Seton.

Joanna?' He waited for her silent approval. 'This is my mother.'

'How do you do, Mrs Trevor.'

Joanna restrained herself from offering her hand when the older woman made no attempt to do so. If she hadn't known that it couldn't possibly be so, she would have said there was disapproval in Mrs Trevor's att.i.tude, and she began to wish she had not allowed Paul to persuade her to come here.

'From Ravengarth, you say,' his mother remarked now, looking at her son with some irritation. 'You'd be some relative of the Sheldons, then?'

'No,' It was Paul who answered her, his blue eyes wide and impatient. 'She's the new governess, believe it or not. For Sheldon's daughter. But as you can see, she got wet climbing up from the stream, and I suggested she came here to dry off. Surely there's a pair of Barbara's slacks around somewhere that she could borrow while we dry her own.'

'Oh, I see.' The air of disapproval, if that was what it was, disappeared like magic. 'I'm sorry, Miss Seton, I didn't notice you were wet. Of course you must get changed, and while your trousers are drying, we'll have a cup of tea.'

Joanna hesitated. 'I was on my way to the village,' she began, realising this was going to take longer than she had thought, but Mrs Trevor was not perturbed.

'Paul will run you down to the village,' she declared, and her son exchanged an I-told-you-so look with Joanna. 'There's plenty of time. Now, come along upstairs with me, and I'll sort you out something to wear.'

It was kind of them to bother, but as the afternoon wore on, Joanna began to get uneasy. What time had Matt said Jake would be back?

Four o'clock? Five? She couldn't remember, and she hoped he would not disapprove of her taking tea with the Trevors.

Mrs Trevor liked to gossip, that much was obvious, but Joanna succeeded in turning most of her questions without giving too much away. Strangely, she was reluctant to tell them of the lack of success she was having with Anya, and their evident interest in Jake's affairs was tinged with an unusual amount of hostility. It was this Joanna had sensed on her arrival, she realised, and she guessed his isolation, his detachment from the community, had aroused resentment as well as curiosity.

In the event, Paul went down to the village alone, carrying with him the list of things she needed. The trousers Mrs Trevor had loaned her proved to be much too big for her slim hips, and as her own pants were not yet dry, he suggested the alternative.

Joanna had no choice but to agree, though the feeling was growing stronger every minute that she should not be here.

It was about a quarter to five when Joanna heard the sound of the Land Rover returning, and rose to her feet in some relief, eager to be on her way. But when a man in his early fifties, and wearing a warehouse coat and rubber boots, came into the living room where they had been taking afternoon tea, her disappointment was almost palpable. This, of course, was Paul's father, she realised, having heard from Mrs Trevor about her husband, and her married daughter, whose trousers Joanna had borrowed, and a younger son, Andrew, who was presently away at agricultural college, and she endeavoured not to look as crestfallen as she felt. But Mr Trevor was not alone. Another man was following, and her heart flipped a nervous beat as she recognised the hard, unyielding features of her employer. In the shadows of the hall his scarred face possessed a brooding malevolence, and she gazed at him helplessly as Paul's father made the explanations.

CHAPTER FIVE.

'I MET Mr Sheldon in the lane,' Mr Trevor said, exchanging a meaningful glance with his wife. He-er-he said he was looking for this young lady, I think.' He favoured Joanna with a smile.

'Leastways, when I told him young Paul had brought a young woman up to the house, he seemed to think she might be the same.'

'h.e.l.lo, Mr Sheldon.' Joanna decided to remove any doubt as her employer halted in the doorway. 'I didn't realise you'd be back yet.

I'm sorry if you were beginning to wonder where I was.'

Jake's mouth was set in a straight, uncompromising line. 'Do you have a coat?' he demanded harshly, showing little regard for the demands of courtesy, and Joanna had barely started to explain when Mrs Trevor interrupted her.

'Joanna got her trousers wet climbing up from the beck, Mr Sheldon,' she exclaimed, getting to her feet. She had adopted the familiarity during the course of the afternoon, and Joanna had had no objection until now when Jake's lips thinned accordingly.

'I'm sure you can see, the slacks she's wearing at the moment belonged to my daughter Barbara, and they're miles too big for her.' She allowed herself a small, slightly nervous chuckle. 'It's our fault she's been delayed. I insisted she stayed for tea, and Paul's down at the village this moment, getting the things you needed.'

Joanna's face was a blaze of colour, but Jake showed no sign of remorse at her discomfiture. 'I'm sorry you've been troubled, Mrs Trevor,' he observed flatly. 'I had no idea- Miss Seton had any intention of going to the village, or I would have saved her the trouble.' Brooding yellow eyes turned in Joanna's direction.

'Now, if you're ready ...'

His meaning was obvious, but Joanna couldn't understand why he should be so angry with her. What had she done after all?

Just taken tea with a neighbour! Nothing so very dreadful about that, surely!

He had no right to come here and act like she was some kind of kept creature who had managed to escape from custody.

'I can't go yet,' she declared tersely, trying to keep her temper in spite of her indignation, and his brows arched.

'No?'

'No,' she retorted, glancing apologetically at Mrs Trevor.

'Er-Paul's not back yet.'

Jake's lips compressed. 'Then perhaps you could change your trousers, and I'l take you to meet him,' he suggested, his eyes as bleak as his tone, and with another silent plea for understanding to the Trevors, she hurried out of the room. She had to pa.s.s him to do so, and her heart pounded a trifle erratically as she met that hard unflinching gaze. It didn't help to know that despite the discrepancy in their ages- Paul was at least ten or twelve years younger than Jake- the older man possessed a strength and virility the younger man did not, and Paul's good looks faded into insignificance when compared to Jake's hard features.

She heard Mrs Trevor endeavouring to make conversation with their unexpected guest as she hastened up the stairs, but she could not hear Jake's monosyllabic responses. She guessed he resented having to come here after her just as much as she resented the feeling of constraint his arrival had put upon her, but she couldn't excuse his treatment of her, or forgive his curtness in the face of the Trevors'

cordiality.

Her trousers had dried over the radiator in the bathroom. The radiators here were slightly more modern than those at Ravengarth, but the antiquated appointments of the bathroom were not. The cistern still gurgled ominously when any water was run off it, and the clawlike feet of the bath were an obvious hazard to unguarded toes.

But Joanna scarcely noticed these things as she hurriedly changed from Barbara's stretchy slacks into her own corded pants, and gave her reflection a hasty appraisal. Her cheeks were flushed, as well they might be after sitting by the fire all afternoon, she thought, although Jake's advent had not helped, and curling tendrils of honey-brown hair had escaped from the knot to stroke her tender nape. She looked doubtful and slightly apprehensive, but she tried to school her features into some semblance of composure before going back downstairs.

Her jacket was hanging on the banister at the foot of the stairs, and she hastily slipped this on before making her presence known again.

Jake was still standing in the doorway to the living room, resisting all offers the Trevors were making to take tea, or something stronger, or even to sit down. When Joanna appeared he turned in evident relief, and with a brief nod of farewell urged her impatiently towards the kitchen and ultimately the yard beyond.

Joanna tried to offer her thanks, and was relieved to see that Mr and Mrs Trevor did not appear to be offended by her employer's brusque behaviour.

'Come and see us again,' exclaimed Mrs Trevor warmly, 'and bring the little girl with you. Now that we've all got to know one another, perhaps we can be good neighbours.'

'Perhaps she'd like to ride one of the horses,' suggested Mr Trevor thoughtfully. 'They're not thoroughbreds, you understand,' this to Jake, 'but they'd give her a comfortable ride.'

'It's very kind of you, Mr Trevor, but -'

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