Inherit the Skies (32 page)

The sun was low in the sky now, a ball of fire over the distant hills. As the Panhard chuntered away up the drive Sarah turned for one last look at the square impressive façade of Chewton Leigh House, its windows reflecting the scarlet light of the dying sun.

I will be back, she promised herself, and knew that in spite of the antagonisms and frustrations, the ill feeling and the outright hostility, it was a promise she would keep.

‘Alicia is quite a girl isn't she?' Adam said conversationally.

They were bowling along the open road in the fading light. Now that the sun had fallen over the horizon the colour seemed to have faded from the countryside. Blackbird and thrush swooped low in the hedgerows, martins and swallows arced and wheeled, and far out across the rise of open meadowland a hawk hovered on the still air, intent on gaining one more morsel for its supper.

Sarah, who had been watching the hawk, as mesmerised as any field mouse or rabbit by its graceful stillness, looked at him sharply, her hackles rising.

‘I dare say that would be one way of describing her.'

He raised an eyebrow and his mouth took on that lift of infuriating amusement.

‘It doesn't sound as though the two of you got along.'

‘We didn't.' But she had no intention of elaborating and the silence between them was less than companionable.

Now that they had left Chewton Leigh behind she was once again regretting the fact that she was alone with Adam and the long journey back to London stretched ahead interminably. To begin with they had travelled in silence, Adam considering the implications of the meeting, Sarah wrapped in her own thoughts, and what conversation they had was polite and conventional. Now his remark about Alicia caught her on the raw and she wondered irritably just why she should be so infuriated by it. Perhaps it was because she had suffered so much from Alicia's superiority in the past and had thought that at last she had raised herself to become her equal, perhaps it had to do with the fact that, however unwillingly, she admired Adam and found him almost disconcertingly attractive. Whichever, the thought that he had fallen prey to Alicia's rather obvious charms was galling, especially as he seemed to consider her own achievements something of a joke.

‘What time do you expect we shall be back in London?' Sarah asked, attempting to change the subject.

‘Oh – another hour or so, provided my motor continues to behave itself,' Adam said. ‘Why – aren't you enjoying my company?'

His tone did nothing to soothe Sarah's ruffled feathers. The impertinence of the man!

‘Your company is neither here nor there,' she said tartly. ‘I'm very tired and I have a long day in front of me tomorrow. Besides, Eric will be anxious about me.'

‘Oh surely not. He knows you are in good hands.'

‘He could still be anxious about me. On a long journey like this anything could happen.'

‘Highly unlikely. If he was so worried about you why did he let you come?'

‘He's not my keeper. In any case I came to introduce you to Mr Morse in case you have forgotten.'

‘I'm sure a letter of introduction would have been sufficient. After all when it comes to a business arrangement it really is between me and Mr Morse.'

And Alicia! Sarah thought furiously. You'd have liked that, wouldn't you, a chance to make up to Alicia. Aloud she said: ‘Well if that's all the thanks I get I'm sure I wish I hadn't troubled!' and was instantly annoyed with herself for she knew she had sounded pettish. What on earth was the matter with her, she wondered, allowing him to rile her in this way?

They travelled in silence for a while, then quite suddenly Adam asked: ‘Are you in love with Eric?'

The baldness of the question shocked her. She glared at his profile, very strong, very aloof in the fading light.

‘I'm engaged to him, aren't I?'

He continued to drive, not removing his eyes from the road for a single second.

‘I'm aware of that but it does not answer my question.'

‘Eric is a good man!' she said sharply. ‘Of course I love him. How dare you suggest I don't?'

‘Oh I agree he's a good man,' he said evenly. ‘I have never for one moment doubted it. Very likely it is his sheer goodness that persuaded him to allow you to travel alone with me to Bristol – he simply cannot conceive that either of us would do anything to betray his trust.'

Quite suddenly she found that her hands were trembling.

‘I don't know what you are talking about!'

He glanced at her and even in the fading light the challenge in his eyes was unmistakeable. ‘Don't you?'

‘Most certainly I do not! Just because Alicia flaunts herself and throws herself at you does not mean that I would do the same. Why – I don't even like you!'

‘Ouch!' he said, but there was still a good measure of amusement in his tone and it infuriated her almost to fever pitch.

‘If you must know, Mr Bailey, I find you quite insufferable!' she snapped.

‘Oh dear,' he said ruefully. ‘What have I done to warrant this?'

The fact that she could not think of one single concrete thing did nothing to improve her temper.

‘It's your attitude!' she snapped. ‘You always seem to be laughing at me!'

‘Perhaps that is because you take yourself so seriously,' he said lightly. ‘And you must admit there is something slightly comic in what you do.'

‘There you go, you see – laughing at me again! I don't find ballooning in the least comic'

‘And there
you
go – taking yourself so seriously! You have plenty of spunk, I admit, Sarah – a cool nerve and a hot temper. I admire you …'

‘Well, I don't admire you!' she returned. ‘If you must know I find you arrogant and rather rude!'

‘I am sorry to hear that. But I am afraid you will have to put up with me for a little longer. Until we get back to London at any rate.'

‘Not necessarily.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘I could always ask you to stop the motor now and let me out.'

‘But you wouldn't. You wouldn't want to be stranded in the middle of nowhere.'

‘Even that might be preferable to the next hour spent bickering with you.'

‘All right.' He slammed on the brakes and the car ground abruptly to a halt. ‘If that's the way you want it, you may get out of my motor, Miss Thomas. Arrogant I might be, rude I might be – a jailer I am not. Please feel free to avail yourself of the opportunity to take a nice long walk on a warm summer's night.'

A bolt of horror shot through Sarah. This was ridiculous! It was all over nothing – a storm in a teacup because she had allowed him to rile her. She certainly had not expected him to take her at her word. But here he was looking at her with that infuriating challenge in his eyes, daring her to do as she had threatened. And now she had put herself in the impossible position of either admitting ignominiously that she had not the slightest inclination to get out of the car and walk alone into the fast-falling night or sticking to her guns and doing just that!

Well, she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing the very idea terrified her. Her fierce pride simply would not allow it. With a toss of her head she got up and climbed down out of the car. He wouldn't leave her. He couldn't! When he saw she was actually prepared to do as she had said he would insist she got back into the car … wouldn't he?

But the moment her feet touched the ground he opened the throttle and the motor began to move away. Panic constricted her throat and she almost screamed at him to wait, but again pride prevented her and moments later she was standing on the grass verge watching the motor disappear into the fading light.

For a moment she stood quite still, almost paralysed by horror. ‘Beast!' she whispered, and then louder: ‘Beast – beast!' The sound of her voice disturbed a bird in the hedgerow; it rustled urgently, startling her, and her quick intake of breath became a sob: ‘Oh, how could you? How
could
you just
leave
me here?'

The quiet of the night gave no reply. In the few moments she had stood there it seemed the darkness had become more complete, the hedges taking on dark and threatening shapes, the sky closing in to obscure even the ribbon of road. Well, there was nothing for it – she would simply have-to set out in search of a cottage or farm, knock on the door and ask for refuge. But it was so humiliating – and all so stupid!

Somewhere across the dark fields an owl hooted and Sarah felt the skin on the back of her neck prickle. She was a country girl, used to the sounds of nature, but never before had she felt so totally alone. Then suddenly, close by, on the other side of the hedge a cow lowed, an unearthly sound in the silence of the night. Her carefully controlled panic erupted and Sarah began to run.

She did not notice the bank at the edge of the road until she ran into it. One fleeing foot followed the other, her ankle twisted and she staggered and fell headlong. She heard her skirt rip, her hands skagged on brambles and as she tried to rise she lost her balance again and rolled helplessly into the drainage ditch at the bottom of the bank. There had been no rain for some days but the ground was low lying and the ditch was clogged with last year's dead leaves and muddy with water that had seeped down from the higher level of the field.

‘Oh!' she sobbed.

And at that very moment saw the lights of a motor coming towards her down the road.

Her first thought was overwhelming relief. She scrambled out of the ditch and into the road, waving her arms wildly at the approaching motor. Then as it slowed to a stop beside her relief turned to outrage, humiliation and anger.

‘What on earth have you been up to?' the driver enquired mildly. It was Adam.

She drew herself up, not the easiest thing when she was scratched, bedraggled and trembling all over.

‘I thought you had gone without me!' she said accusingly.

‘Did you really? And how do you suppose I would have faced Eric and told him I'd left you God-knows-where? Come on, you little idiot, get in!'

She glowered at him.

‘Are you going to get in – or shall I leave you here again?' he asked.

She knew she was beaten. She had no doubt now but that if she refused he would simply drive away again. She took a step, her ankle almost gave way beneath her and pain shot through it, white hot. He heard her gasp, and realising she was hurt, was down in a flash lifting her as effortlessly as if she weighed no more than a child and setting her up on the seat. She wanted to protest but no words would come. It was a supreme effort to hold back the tears.

‘Oh Sarah!' he said, looking at her. ‘What a state you are in! And I only left you for five minutes. You didn't really think I'd go back to London without you, did you? What do you take me for? No – don't answer that. An arrogant swine. That's what you said, wasn't it?'

‘And so you are,' she said through gritted teeth.

‘I couldn't agree more. I shouldn't have done it.' There was no mockery in his tone now, only real regret. He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief and handed it to her. ‘Here – clean yourself up with this.'

She took the handkerchief and suddenly the tears she had been struggling to hold back were coursing down her cheeks.

‘It was horrible!' she wept.

‘Oh come now, not so bad for a girl who jumps out of balloons, surely?' But it was not said unkindly and the gentle teasing was somehow quite different.

‘Look at me! Look at the mess I'm in!'

‘Sarah,' he said, ‘you still look beautiful.'

‘Will you stop making fun of me!' she cried.

‘I am not making fun of you. I am simply telling you the truth.' His voice was low and vibrant; the sound of it sent a sudden tingle up her spine.

She looked at him sharply. The moon had risen, a pale bright orb, and in its light and the smattering of reflected light from the headlamps of the motor his face was deeply shadowed, his eyes mysterious pools of darkness. Yet somehow they beamed her a message, a message so powerful that she received it with every pore of her body and every nerve ending rose in tingling response. She was aching now not from the effects of her fall but from longing – a longing she could not comprehend and did not attempt to – and the trembling in her limbs ceased momentarily as if frozen by some powerful emotion. She looked at him, breath catching in her throat, and felt the whole of her being drawn up into that one point of contact.

‘Sarah,' he said softly.

His hand was in her hair, combing the tangled curls away from her temple, then it slid down to her chin, cupping it firmly and lifting. His face was close, inches from hers, and a tremor ran through her. She knew now what that ache of longing meant. He was going to kiss her – and she wanted him to. She closed her eyes, giving herself up to the longing, then suddenly just as his lips brushed hers sanity came rushing in on a wave of panic. What was she
doing?
She was engaged to be married to Eric – she had no business being here in the arms of another man.

Abruptly she pulled away. ‘No!'

For a moment longer he held her and she wondered in panic if he might be going to force himself on her as Hugh had done. Then he released her and she shrank back against the leather seat.

‘Well, Sarah …' That familiar infuriating amusement was back in his voice.

‘Please take me home,' she said, pressing his handkerchief to her trembling lips. The unfamiliar smell of it evoked more small shocks and yearnings in her inflamed senses and she sat rigid, resisting them.

Without another word Adam depressed the accelerator and the motor shot forward in the darkness. And the tears which were still so close and threatening squeezed out from Sarah's eyes and began to roll silently down her cheeks.