The Devil at Archangel (8 page)

that the tray had been laid for two people.

She glanced instinctively over her shoulder and saw to her dismay

that he had followed her in from the hall and was in lie act of closing

the doors. He caught her glance and smiled unpleasantly as if he

could read her thoughts.

'Milk but no sugar, please,' he said sardonically.

Christina flushed and turned hurriedly to busy herself with the teapot.

It was obviously a very old one and very heavy. It made her wrist

shake and she found to her annoyance that she had splashed tea into

the saucer and on to the tray. She bit her lip, very much aware that her

unwanted companion was shaking his head as he contemplated her

handiwork.

'That won't do at all, Miss Sort-of-Secretary. You'll have to take some

lessons before you pour tea for Tante. She's inclined to be—fussy

about these things and make her views known. Or hadn't you

noticed?'

Christina set down the teapot with a jerk. One word had registered

with her. She moistened her lips. 'You say "Tante". Are you—is she

...'

'I'm afraid so,' he said too gently. 'I suppose this is as good a time as

any for formal introductions. I'm Devlin Brandon—your employer's

nephew.'

'I see,' Christina said numbly, after a brief appalled silence.

Devlin Brandon produced a battered packet of cheroots from his shirt

pocket and lit one. Those strange silver eyes glittered as he watched

her.

'I've obviously been an unpleasant surprise to you,' he commented

coolly. 'Would it be any comfort if I said you'd caused a similar

reaction in me?'

Her head came up indignantly. 'I don't see why.'

'No?' His smile was abstracted as he studied the glowing tip of his

cheroot. 'But then you haven't explained to my satisfaction why Tante

should need the services of a—sort- of-secretary.'

'Perhaps you'd better ask her that.' Christina took a firm grip on

herself and poured tea into the second cup without mishap. She

offered it to him. 'And I wish you wouldn't keep calling me that!'

'I can hardly address you as "Hey you",' he pointed out. 'It wouldn't be

civil.'

Christina picked up a plate of macaroons and offered these in turn. 'I

wouldn't have thought civility would have been a great concern of

yours, Mr Brandon,' she said sweetly, and felt she had scored a

victory.

But he appeared totally undisturbed, leaning back at his ease in the

armchair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was even

smiling slightly.

'So the kitten has claws,' he observed. 'I advise you to keep them

sheathed. There's only room for one tigress in this particular jungle,

as you may find to your cost. And I'm waiting.'

'For what?'

'For you-to tell me your name and what you're doing here.'

Christina hesitated. Every instinct urged her to tell him that it was

none of his business, and yet how did she know it was not? He was a

Brandon after all, and she could not be sure what his position in the

family was.

'My name is Christina Bennett,' she said eventually and very stiffly.

'And Mrs Brandon has employed me to be her secretary/companion.'

'Is that a fact?' he said softly.

She stared at him. 'You—you sound as if you don't believe me. Why

else should I be here?'

'That's what I'm asking myself.' He drew briefly on the cheroot, then

stubbed it out in an onyx ashtray on the table in front of him. 'But at

the moment I'm not getting any satisfactory answers.'

Christina returned her cup to the tray with a clatter. 'I think you're

being rather ridiculous,' she said sharply.

'Am I?' He gave a twisted smile. 'Now then, Miss—er— Bennett.

You've met my aunt. Does she really strike you as the sort of woman

with the slightest need for a female companion?'

Christina wound her fingers round each other in her lap. 'I suppose

that depends on the kind of duties she expects.'

'And precisely what duties do you foresee yourself performing?' he

drawled.She paused. 'We haven't discussed them in any great depth

...' she began.

He snorted. 'That I can well believe. Tell me, Miss Bennett, have you

ever held a similar position?'

'Yes, I have.' Christina faced him defiantly. 'I—I have worked for

my—aunt for several years in that capacity.'

'And you feel that qualifies you to work for mine,' he said

expressionlessly. 'You are either very naive, Miss Bennett, or

extremely clever. I wonder which it is.'

Christina gasped. 'And you are very insulting, Mr Brandon,' she

retorted. 'If your aunt considers my qualifications sufficient, surely

that's enough?' She got to her feet. 'If you'll excuse me...'

'Sit down,' he said curtly. 'I haven't finished with you yet.'

She sent him a glittering smile. 'How unfortunate. Yet I, Mr Brandon,

have finished with you. Obviously you find me unsuitable for this

post—although I'm at a loss to understand why ...'

'At a loss?' he interrupted decisively. 'My good child, take a look at

yourself.'

Before she could move, he had risen to his feet. There was a small

table on a graceful pedestal just to the right of the door, with a mirror

in an elaborately gilded frame hanging just above it. Devlin Brandon

took Christina by the shoulders and turned her forcibly to face this

mirror. She was shocked by her own reflection—dishevelled hair,

flushed cheeks and blazing eyes. She looked like a wild thing, and it

was all the fault of this—creature whose fingers were bruising her

flesh with their grip. He was holding her against him, and she could

feel his skin against her bare back. A weird shiver ran through her,

and she struggled to release herself.

'Be still,' he ordered curtly, 'and just ask yourself what possible

companionship a girl of your age and appearance could offer a

woman like my aunt.'

'Perhaps, Mr Brandon, she doesn't feel quite ready for the scrapheap

yet,' Christina fired back. 'She wants someone young about her—she

told me so.'

'And you were so fired by the thought of a glamorous life in the

Caribbean that you leapt at the job, naturally.'

For a moment, she was tempted to tell him the truth— to confide in

someone all the doubts and fears that had beset her, but she crushed it

down. If that was what he wanted to think, let him, she thought

savagely. Why should she care?

'Of course.' She managed a careless laugh. 'Who wouldn't? But don't

think for one moment that I was misled. Mrs Brandon pointed out all

the disadvantages to me.'

'And all the advantages—what did she say about them, if anything?'

He let her go, and turned away with a weary gesture, walking over to

the window and staring out at the gardens.

'They speak for themselves,' she returned defensively. Her shoulders

were tingling from the pressure of his hands, and she moved them

protectively under the straps of her dress.

He glanced at her over his shoulder and she was chilled anew at the

lines of bitterness and cynicism that stamped his face.

'Perhaps they do at that—even for a child of your age. It must take

something to persuade you to shut yourself up here in this forgotten

world with an autocratic old woman who has yet to be convinced that

slavery has been abolished.'

'That's an abominable thing to say about anyone,' Christina said, her

voice shaking. 'And about your own aunt...'

'Doesn't it fit in with your romantic notions of plantation life? Or did

you visualise us all sitting round on the terrace sipping Planter's

Punch in happy amity?' He shook his head. 'Don't be deceived by the

name, Miss Bennett. It's no Paradise and there are no angels living

here.'She was thankful for the sudden opening of the door. She

imagined it would be Eulalie. But it was not.

He was, she decided later, her own age or even slightly younger. His

good looks were breathtaking—black hair and dark, glowing eyes,

and a mouth with more than a hint of sensuality in its full lower lip.

He was dressed for riding, his clothes immaculate, his boots highly

polished.

He said directly to Christina very charmingly, 'I'm too late—you've

had tea, and I did mean to be back. Please forgive me. I'm Theo

Brandon.'

His eyes went past her and narrowed slightly as if he was displeased.

'Hello, Dev.'

Devlin Brandon gave him a dispassionate nod. He said, 'What's this

strange passion for tea, Theo? It didn't used to be one of your failings.'

Theo shrugged, his eyes going frankly to Christina. 'I just wanted to

welcome our guest.'

'Guest?' Devlin's eyebrows rose. 'I understood she had come here to

work.'

Theo gave an impatient gesture. 'Oh, I daresay Grand'- mere will find

her something to do if she gets bored, but the plan is for her to have a

complete rest in the sun.' He sent Christina a sympathetic glance.

'She's had rather a tough time lately—a family bereavement.'

'I see.' Devlin's breath was expelled in a short, harsh sigh. 'In which

case I could have saved myself quite a lot of trouble.' He walked

briskly to the door, then paused. 'When Tante has recovered from the

journey, you can tell her, if you will, that a deputation from the Island

Committee would like to see her—at her convenience, naturally.'

'Do you think it will ever be convenient?' Theo said with a faint grin.

'Probably not, but I was asked to pass on the message.' Theo sat down

on the arm of one of the chairs, flicking at his boot with his riding

whip. 'And will you be a member of this deputation?' he inquired

softly.

'Of course.' He turned to leave, without sparing another glance for

Christina. Her temper rose. This man could do with a lesson in

ordinary manners!

'Goodbye, Mr Brandon,' she said clearly and very sweetly.

'I understand the sentiment, but it's a little extreme,' he flung back at

her over his shoulder. 'No doubt we shall see more of each

other—during your holiday.'

Not if I can help k, Christina thought, smouldering with fury as the

door shut behind him. She found Theo regarding her with a curious

expression, and flushed slightly.

'Do you find him attractive?' Theo asked with what she thought was

deliberate outrageousness.

'No, I don't,' she snapped, then paused, guiltily, realising that they

must be related. 'I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean ...'

'No,' he said, and he was laughing. 'Don't spoil it. Your natural

reaction was perfect. Devlin would be really put down if he knew. He

regards himself as being quite a lady- killer, you know. Women

generally seem to find him irresistible." What has he been saying to

upset you?'

His bone structure was pretty near flawless, she found herself

thinking bewilderedly. He would have been beautiful if it hadn't been

for that very positive air of masculinity.

'Oh, nothing very much,' she said, striving to maintain her precarious

poise and hoping that he was not aware of her struggle. He seemed

very sophisticated for his age. 'We —we'd met before, you see.'

He looked up at her as if he was startled, frowning a little. 'When was

this? Does Grand'mere know?'

'No,' Christina admitted. 'I did try to tell her, but she was rather angry

with me at the" time, and she didn't want to listen.'

Theo smiled, but rather abstractedly. 'Poor Christina— J I may call

you that?—did she give you a hard time?'

Christina shook her head constrainedly. 'I'm—used to elderly ladies.'

'Well, I'm not angry with you, I'm all agog. When did you meet dear

Cousin Dev, and what did he do to annoy you?'

Christina bit her lip. 'As a matter of fact, he was—very kind,' she was

forced to admit. 'He came along quite by chance when I was on the

point of being—mugged, I suppose, or something worse—in

Martinique yesterday. There were three of them, but when he came,

they just— vanished.'

'And were you very frightened?' Theo asked gently. He was smiling

again, and his eyes were very brilliant as they held hers.

'Yes—terrified.' Christina relieved those tense moments in the back

streets of Fort de France with a shudder. 'I didn't know, you see, what

was going to happen.'

'And then along came dear Cousin Dev like Sir Lancelot!' Theo threw

back his head and laughed joyously.
'Dieu,
I wish I'd been there!'

'He didn't behave in the least like Sir Lancelot,' Christina retorted

hotly. 'His attitude was most unpleasant. He treated me as if I

was'—she paused and a phrase of Aunt Grace's floated into her

mind—'no better than I should be.'

'Oh?' Theo watched her speculatively through his long lashes. 'Did he