Deception (19 page)

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Authors: Margaret Pargeter

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BOOK: Deception
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Thea thought Logan was
momentarily angry that what she had given Jamie far outshone anything else he
got, but she couldn't be sure. Fleetingly his green eyes smouldered and then
his expression was blank again. Lifting her chin a little, Thea stopped looking
at him, the knowledge that
she would soon
be gone filling her with a kind of reckless
bravado. Martha was so
pleased with her present she seemed almost overcome, while Mrs Murray accepted
her chocolates gracefully, with a warm smile. Logan, however, merely glanced
briefly at his socks, never saying a word.
 
    

He distributed his
presents himself, surprisingly expensive ones, or so they appeared to be
to Thea, if not as well chosen as her own. There was nothing for herself, which
made her face fall and her expectant flush fade. Mrs Murray, having turned to
speak to Jamie, didn't notice Thea moving unhappily away, trying to hide the
sudden tears in her eyes. Murmuring a hurried excuse, she went out, only to
have Logan catch up to her in the hall.

'Thea!'

Still unable to look
at him, she paused. 'I've a lot to do, Logan.'

'Not right at this
moment, surely?'

She bent her head, not
prepared for the hands which swung her around, the fingers which tilted her
chin up to meet narrowed dark eyes. 'I've hurt you, haven't I?'

'A little.' She had
the honesty of extreme hopelessness.

He muttered something
she didn't catch, under his breath. 'You're an amazing young person, Thea
Andrews! You've been wrong all along, yet you manage to make me feel a brute,
and I don't like it.' He went on regarding her intently, his jaw tightening
when, uncharacteristically, she made no attempt to defend herself. 'Thea,
child, I do realise you're alone in the world, and I suppose you thought that
today was going to be nice and easy. Presents all round, sweet words and
goodwill towards and from everybody. Well, you'd better get it into that
pretty but very foolish head of yours that, a long time ago, I left that all
behind me.'

'I'm sorry,' she
whispered hoarsely, in total anguish, the eyes she lifted to him swimming now,
her tender young mouth trembling. 'I deserved that, I know I've been utterly
foolish ...'

Something about her,
with her defences down, seemed to get him in spite of himself. 'Thea—come
here.'

She was aware that he
was more than just mildly exasperated as he drew her gently into his arms,
holding
her close, comforting her as he
might Jamie. But a trembl
ing
pink mouth and rain-washed grey eyes must have been
more than he had bargained for, for with a
muffled exclama
tion he dropped
his mouth to hers, stilling the trembling,
opening it to wonder.

Through
a daze, some words of his kept coming back.
'It's not enough. Not nearly enough!'

'Logan,'
she didn't try to hide the Stardust in her eyes
as he raised his
head, nor to remove her hand which had
strayed against his
cheek, 'that's the nicest present...'

'Logan ... i' Thea
jumped, wrenching herself from
his arms as
his mother's voice broke in uncertainly.

Turning
slowly and deliberately, he shielded Thea with
his big body. 'Yes, Mother?'

Clearly
startled by what she had apparently seen, Mrs
Murray was as
intimidated as Thea often was when Logan
used that particular
tone, holding, as it did, a subtle warning that the subject under
contemplation was not to be
pursued. Her puzzled glance lingering
on Thea, Mrs Mur
ray, with obvious reluctance, gave in.
Hesitantly, she said, 'I thought I'd just give Ingrid a ring. I know she spends
Christmas with her people, but I did feel I should wish
her well.'

'Give
her my regards,' Logan replied evenly, with
nothing in his manner to
betray if he was pleased by the
interruption or
otherwise. His hand snaked out to grasp
Thea's. 'Thea and I will
return to the kitchen and keep
Jamie company until you finish.'

That
evening Thea wore her long pink dress and brushed
her
long fair hair until it shone. She put on a soft pink
lipstick
and tripped downstairs in silver sandals on curi
ously
light feet, but though both Mrs Murray and Martha
told
her she looked lovely, Logan said not a word and
made no attempt to
come near her again. The day, which
had proved such a
success, and still was as the drawing-
room curtains were drawn
against the falling snow and the
huge log fire made flickering reflections on
tired but contented faces, suddenly palled for Thea, although she wasn't
sure why.

The day after Boxing
Day, McLean rang again. This time Thea answered the call as Logan was out and
Mrs Murray had joined Jamie for a walk around the loch. She didn't know Ian
McLean, but he sounded very nice and she couldn't bring herself to refuse to
speak to him. He apologised for the accident in the village and hoped she had
recovered. He had wanted to call and see her but Logan had told him he wouldn't
be welcome.

After waiting in vain
for the comment Thea dared not make about this, he asked if she would accompany
Logan and his mother to the dance which his parents were giving the next night.
While Thea tried with some confusion to decide what kind of relationship the
two men must share, he added, 'Didn't Logan pass on my invitation?'

She had to ask Logan
about it, she couldn't wait until he came home from the fields. Why hadn't
Logan mentioned this invitation? He coulchi't know she was a good dancer
and loved to dance, but he might have guessed, if only because she was young,
that she enjoyed an evening out occasionally. He certainly made it plain enough
that
he would be pleased to see the last of
her, himself, so why
should he mind if another man sought her company?

The snow which had
fallen over Christmas lay white and hard under a frosty sky, turning the moors
and the mountains and lochs into stretches of sparkling beauty. The snow was
hard on stock. Duncan, who had spent Christmas Day with them at Drumlarig, had
explained to Thea a little of the hardship it caused. She knew Logan was hoping
the winter wouldn't be a severe one, but Duncan had said that the signs weren't
good. Thea wondered, as her breath floated like white mist on the late
afternoon air, how anything so beautiful to look at as snow could be quite
lethal in places like this.
 

She found Logan at
last, attending to a herd of cattle on the moors some distance away. Rather
breathlessly, for she had walked further than she had intended, she stopped
beside him. As she approached and he saw her, he watched enigmatically but silently.

'Mr McLean rang
again,' Thea spoke to his raised eyebrows. 'He's asked me to go to the
party his parents are giving tomorrow evening.'

'And he asked why I
hsdn't passed on his previous invitation?' Logan said dryly, quite able to
observe this from Thea's flushed face and accusing eyes.

'You could have said
something,' she reproached him, staring at him, already her grievances and Ian
McLean fading as she rapidly forgot everything but Logan. He dominated her so
that it was difficult to think of anyone else. Always, when she least expected
it, it happened, giving the sensation of being swept by a flood tide.
Despising such weakness in herself, she faltered, 'It's Christmas, after all.'

'Someone has to stay
and look after Jamie,' he rejoined mildly, refusing to get annoyed.

A frown creased Thea's
brow as she placed her feet more firmly on the slippery snow. She hadn't
thought of that. She didn't truthfully mind so much about the party, but she
would have enjoyed going out with Logan. It would have been something to
remember. 'Maybe your brother's wife would come and stay with him?' she suggested
recklessly.

'Ingrid's going to the
dance,' he told Thea curtly. 'I promised to pick her up.'

Unconsciously, Thea's
eyes widened despairingly on Logan's hard face, as pictures danced through her
mind. Logan, taking a triumphant Ingrid to the ball, his hand, those long, lean
fingers which Thea had known herself, fast on Ingrid's arm. They would dance
together and he would hold her close, because Murray of Drumlarig was
no hermit, much as he might pretend to be one.
All this
while Thea Andrews stayed
at home. Why, even Cinderella
had had a better deal than that! At least
she had been
given a chance to enjoy
herself before being relegated to
the kitchen sink!

Clenching
her frozen hands, her eyes sparkled with anger. 'I hate you!' she snapped, hurt
tearing at her be
cause she loved him so. 'I suppose it
wouldn't suit you to
be seen at a social gathering with your
housekeeper!'

'You
litde fool!' he snapped straight back, his eyes
brilliant with
anger. 'Would you really enjoy the elegantly raised eyebrows, the loaded looks,
the conjecture? It might
have been all right if you'd been old and
fat, but you
happen to be far too young and beautiful.'

It
couldn't be because of that. Her breathing shallow,
Thea
thought she knew the truth. He wouldn't want any
one
to get any odd ideas about his relationship with his housekeeper, not with
Ingrid around. Hadn't Ingrid hinted
that Logan might ask her
to be his second wife? He was
going to need someone, and hadn't he
openly confessed he
was tired of housekeepers who came and never
stayed?

'You'll
be leaving in a day or two, after my mother goes,'
she
heard him reminding her, 'so why start a lot of silly
speculation?'

Of
course he was right. 'No,' she muttered, her voice
unsteady,
'it wouldn't be worth it, would it?' She twisted
to leave him, to
go home. Logan was so tall, he towered
above her, swamping her,
and she felt miserable. She
seemed to have made a fool of herself.

Wait
until I finish haying these cattle,' he still looked
at
her keenly, 'then you can ride on the tractor with me. I
won't be long.'

She
waited, watching as he cut open the bales of hay with a knife before tedding it
out into upright feeders,
through which the catde could eat
the fodder without
trampling it into the ground. She had been living in a
fool's paradise, she supposed, seeing herself
floating round
a ballroom in Logan's
arms. And while she wouldn't have minded so much about what people might have
said, she
would hate to embarrass Logan's mother.

He
finished his task and came back to her. 'Would you
like
to sit on the trailer? You might find it more comfort
able.'

'More
appropriate, I think you mean?' Feeling so bitter
she
was prepared to exaggerate everything, she stared at
him
defiantly. It would never do for the master of Druro-
larig
to be seen with his housekeeper in the cab of his
tractor,
riding with
him
there, as Jamie often did.

'Don't get too
sensitive, Thea,' he warned sardonic
ally.
'The lowering of one's pride a little isn't a great price
to pay for the rewards that might follow. With
your reputa
tion
unsmirched—who knows, McLean might even ask
you out again, on a more private occasion.'

'I
don't need you preaching to me, Logan,' she said
stiffly, taking
no comfort from his dryly given advice. She felt only frightened when he talked
like this. It emphasised,
as he appeared to be doing quite
frequently, that he had no particular interest in her himself. 'I have no real
wish
to
go anywhere with Mr McLean, and I don't think I
have anything to thank him for. I just thought it was kind
of him to ask me to his party, or ball, or
whatever it is,
but I'll ring and
tell him I'm not coming, as soon as I get
home.'

Logan's
mouth relaxed slighdy, but he didn't smile,
'Leave it,' he cautioned abrupdy. 'Better that we simply
turn up without you.'
           

Feeling
she had to make a stand somewhere, Thea pro
tested
stubbornly, 'I was taught that it's good manners to
let people know.'

'Sometimes,'
he agreed, 'but what sort of explanation
would you give in this case?'

Was
he never wrong? Meeting his level gaze, her own
reflected
frustration, seeing in his hard eyes a challenge
she didn't know how to handle.

'Come
on,' he said quietly, "things are seldom as bad
as they seem. Cheer
up!'

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