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Reluctantly she admitted the indictment. ‘Of course I did. She’s an out-and-out man-eater. Who would believe she could be related to that nice young man who called yesterday? They’re as different as chalk from cheese.’

There was now an undoubted twinkle lurking at the back of the hard eyes. ‘Another snap judgment! You’d do well, my girl, to think before you speak. One of these days your impulsiveness will get you into trouble.’

‘Exactly what James said. He warned me that it was risky taking a job with you,’ Davina said before she could stop herself.

‘Did he now?’ Rex’s drawl was softer than usual. ‘But you didn’t take his advice, I notice.’

Faint pink stained Davina’s clear skin. ‘No! Well—if I followed all the advice my family hand out, I’d never go anywhere or do anything,’ she offered by way of explanation. Then in an attempt to turn Rex’s thoughts she asked quickly, ‘When do you think they’ll deliver the furniture? The bedrooms have had two coats of paint each and I must say I’m looking forward to sleeping in a proper bed again.’

Rex’s quizzical look left her in no doubt that he was well aware of the smoke screen, but he answered her perfectly politely and the rest of the meal passed off without a further clash between them. Davina had a bath as soon as he had gone out and when she had changed into clean things, she spent the rest of the afternoon writing long-overdue letters to her immediate family.

In her letters to her mother and grandmother, she was careful to restrict her comments on her new environment to descriptions of the wild beauty of the district without mentioning the isolation of Nineveh Farm or the deplorable state of the farmhouse. But in a letter to Catrin she let all her vexation at Rex’s high-handed manner and the neglected dwelling in which he was expecting her to live flow from the end of her pen.

‘Don’t tell Mum or Grandmother, they’d only worry,’ she ended. ‘But honestly, Cat, you should sec this place I Cold Comfort Farm is what it should be called. I’ve scrubbed and polished until I’ve no nails left to speak of. Still, I’m licking things slowly info shape. The house, I mean. I wish I could say the same for his lordship. He must be the most exasperating man ever born.’

She
was licking the flap on Catrin’s letter when Rex walked into the kitchen. ‘Can’t do any more today. What do you say to a meal out?’

Surprise flashed into Davina’s clear eyes and Rex’s brows rose.

‘No need to look so stunned. I just thought you might like a meal cooked by someone else as a change. And don’t think this invitation is a criticism of your culinary abilities,’ Rex went on as Davina opened her mouth to speak. ‘You’ve turned out to be quite a passable cook.’

‘I suppose coming from you that’s tantamount to being proclaimed Cook of the Year,’ Davina retorted. ‘Mother insisted that both Catrin and I do our share of the housework you know. Contrary to what you may imagine, neither of us was born with a silver spoon in her mouth,’ she finished acidly.

One corner of Rex’s mouth twitched, but he said quite soberly, ‘Does that mean you think my idea’s a good one?’ and when Davina said grudgingly, ‘Oh, I suppose so,’ he replied dryly, ‘It’s nice to have one’s invitations so charmingly accepted,’ which caused her to give a reluctant smile at his deadpan expression.

She dimpled apologetically as his face did not relax. ‘Sorry if I sounded particularly rude, but you must admit it comes as a bit of a surprise—wanting to have a meal out to save
me
trouble. I seem to remember you saying you “didn’t keep dogs and bark yourself.” You can hardly blame me if my immediate thought was that you fancied a decent meal for a change.’

‘Well, for once you maligned me. And thank you for the apology. It’s accepted, qualified though it was.’

Davina got up from the table, giving an appreciative chuckle. ‘Game and set to you, Rex. Where are you taking me? I’d better go and get into something more feminine,’ she added, glancing down at her denim trousers.

The restaurant Rex had chosen turned out to be in a converted country mansion some thirty miles distant, and as they entered the thickly carpeted foyer, Davina was glad she had put on a floor-length dress. Rex himself was in a lightweight suit with a brown silk shirt and tie, and several female heads turned as he ushered Davina towards the door leading to the dining room.

They were met by the head waiter, who greeted Rex by name. ‘My apologies, Mr Fitzpaine. Your table will not be ready for five minutes. Perhaps a drink in the bar ...' and he smiled ingratiatingly.

Davina was shaken by silent laughter as Rex turned to lead her to the cocktail lounge. He looked down, eyebrows raised. She lifted smiling eyes and said, ‘You fraud! Much good it would have done had I refused, since you’d evidently booked a table before you suggested we eat out. How did you come to hear of the place anyway?'

‘Stayed here when I was looking round the district,' Rex explained. ‘Do you like it?’

‘The decor’s pleasant,’ Davina commented, looking round the tastefully furnished bar. ‘But I’ll be able to give you a better idea when I’ve tasted the food.’

‘Then you’ll like it. They have a French chef and the food is excellent.’

‘My goodness! This is indeed an honour,’ Davina commented outrageously and, tongue in cheek, Rex caught her up.

‘Nothing’s too good for the ladies I entertain.’

‘Does that include stepsisters?’ Davina came back, and could have sworn he was genuinely amused as he said firmly, ‘Especially stepsisters,’ though his face remained serious.

The head waiter came to summon them a few minutes later and himself took their order. As a waiter changed the cutlery on the snowy linen tablecloth Davina grinned.

‘Now what atrocious thought is going through that curly head?’ Rex enquired, just as the wine waiter bowed himself away.

‘I was simply wondering how much all this red carpet treatment must be going to cost you,’ Davina admitted, and Rex’s mouth twitched.

What he might have been going to say had to be postponed, because at that moment a trolley covered with a lush assortment of hors d’oeuvres was wheeled to the table and the subject was forgotten in the business of selecting their personal choice. The big room was more than three quarters full and at one end a few square feet of floor had been cleared for dancing to the tunes being softly and discreetly played by a trio of musicians.

They were at the coffee stage before Rex said, ‘Your foot’s been tapping for the last five minutes. Want to dance?’

Davina’s answer was guarded. ‘Only if you do. There isn’t much room.’

Rex pushed out his chair and rose. ‘A perfect excuse, then, if we want to dance cheek to cheek,’ he said, and took her elbow.

But he’d have to lean a long way down, Davina thought, had he really wanted to carry out his threat, for her cheek came just up to the lapel of his dark brown lounge suit. She repressed a shiver as his long arm held her firmly pressed to his strong, lean body and closed her eyes as they circled the tiny dance floor.

‘Do you habitually close your eyes when you dance, or does it make it easier that way to forget who your partner is?’ a voice above her head enquired in casual tones.

Davina’s eyes flashed open and she leaned back against the encircling arm so she could see Rex’s face. His lips were curled in a mockingly unkind smile and his eyes held an expression she was at a loss to interpret.

‘You’re so tall, I didn’t think you’d notice,’ she answered lamely, then froze as a hand with long lacquered nails caught at Rex’s arm.

Adele Wickham, looking enchanting in a black chiffon dress, diamonds winking at her ears and on her fingers, was devouring Rex with her eyes, apparently quite impervious to the feelings of her partner. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here?’ She stopped to throw Davina a careless glance. ‘We could have made a foursome.’

Rex moved just far enough away to cause Adele to release her hold on his arm as he replied suavely, ‘We decided to come on the spur of the moment,’ and Davina bit back a smile as his fingers pressed hers warningly.

‘No reason why we can’t join up now, though,’ Adele persisted. Then as no one answered she went on, a note of irritation creeping into the sugary tones she had been using, ‘This is Roy—Roy Comstone.’

The tall, rangy man with whom she was dancing followed the murmurs of ‘hello' and ‘how do you do’ from Rex and Davina by nodding to them, then saying sardonically, ‘I wondered, Adele my sweet, when you were going to remember your manners. And since this is my party, couldn’t you have at least consulted me before you added to it?’

There was a slur to the stinging remark which showed that the man, if not drunk, had certainly had a good deal to drink. A quick glance showed Davina that Roy Comstone, though he was holding himself well, was more than a little inebriated, and instinctively her fingers clung to Rex’s big hand.

His remark was addressed to Adele Wickham’s partner and not to her. ‘We’ve no intention of butting in, however welcome, because we’re on the point of leaving. I’ve a dawn appointment with my stock,’ Rex finished, stretching the truth a little.

To Davina’s relief, the musicians picked that moment to take a break and five minutes later they were in the Land Rover heading towards the farm. But the uncomfortable scene on the dance floor was still on her mind.

‘Where’s Mr Wickham?’ she asked.

For a moment she thought Rex was not going to reply. He was driving fast and although the road was clear of traffic its winding course needed a good deal of concentration. Then he replied in a noncommittal voice:

‘Her brother tells me she’s on the point of divorcing her husband—or maybe it’s the other way around. I rather gathered her absence from the scene was advised and as she and Jim have no relations to speak of she’s come to stay with him until the scandal blows over.’

Davina was silent for a moment. ‘I’d have thought she’d have taken refuge in a more salubrious place. The country obviously bores her to death and I’d have thought she’d have been more at home in one of the fashionable spots like St Tropez or Sardinia.’

Rex threw her a sideways glance. ‘Places like that take money,’ he replied cynically.

‘I know that,’ Davina replied impatiently, ‘but judging by Adele’s clothes and jewellery, that shouldn’t bother her.’

‘Perhaps she’s no money of her own. Jim Thomas has a good veterinary practice around here, but he’s not wealthy by any means. My guess is that until the divorce solicitors on either side have sorted things out, Adele will not have a lot of pin money.’

‘That’s a nice old-fashioned expression,’ Davina said, forgetting for the moment her curiosity about Adele. ‘I wonder if I put it in a story the teenagers would know what it meant.’

‘It’s one we often use in Australia,’ said Rex. Then he added thoughtfully, ‘Pity, isn’t it, that Adele’s manners are not as beautiful as her looks? She’s certainly an eyeful.’

Putting a hand instinctively to her dark curls, Davina was swept by a wave of depression. In the darkness, however, Rex did not notice the look of chagrin which swept across her face as she said lightly, ‘You’re right, and of course all gentlemen prefer ... or so I’m given to understand.’

To her surprise a hand left the wheel and covered the two clasped together on her lap. ‘Brunettes are lovely too,’ there was a caress in Rex’s voice as he went on, ‘And didn’t Shakespeare feature a Dark Lady in his Sonnets?’ Astonishment kept Davina silent all the way back to the farm, for Rex did not take his hand away from hers for several moments and when the gate hove in sight he said, ‘Stay where you are. Exceptions are made for high heels and long skirts,’ before he slid out to open the gate himself. Back at the farmhouse door he came round to help her alight and with a brief, ‘Put the kettle on while I garage this,’ he left her to make her own way inside.

Davina had the kettle on and was adding a log to the smouldering embers when he came in. She looked up and his aura of strength under complete control caught her breath yet again. She straightened up, glad that the business of getting out cups and saucers offered an opportunity to turn her back, for Rex had accurately interpreted her moods before now. It would spoil everything were he to guess that she found him at times almost irresistibly attractive.

When Davina opened her eyes the following morning, the hands of the small alarm clock stood at ten minutes past eight and she was out of the sleeping bag and dressing in seconds. Somehow or other she must have forgotten to set the alarm to ‘on’ the previous night, and what Rex would have to say didn’t bear thinking about But when she hurried into the kitchen the fire had been lit and used dishes on the draining board told their own story. There was a note propped against the cooling teapot. ‘Shall not be back until tea-time. It seemed a pity to wake a sleeping beauty. R.’

Davina stood looking down at the firm, clear handwriting. The sting in the tail of the message made her flush, for it was an embarrassing thought to have been caught napping in the literal sense. Had he merely looked in, or had he stood beside the cot bed while he made up his mind to let her have a lie-in? Either alternative gave Davina a sick feeling in her stomach and she could have kicked herself for not setting the alarm.

But she had hardly finished clearing away and tidying the kitchen when a large furniture van came swaying dangerously down the track from the main road. As well as the beds and the bedding, Rex had added to the bare essentials Davina had listed. The carriers made several journeys from the van to the first floor, and when they finally left, she went to investigate.

Polythene wrappings flew here and there as her scissors went to work disclosing woollen rugs for each bedside, a dozen fleecy towels and curtains not only to match the bed coverings in each bedroom but replacements for the bathroom and kitchen. Stopping only for a cheese sandwich and a mug of coffee at midday, Davina made up the beds, hung curtains and trailed up and down the stairs with clothing. The big old-fashioned wardrobe in the room she had picked out for Rex was soon filled with the contents of his suitcases, and feeling smugly pleased with her choice of colour schemes, she went downstairs to burn the packings and give the kitchen a final spit and polish before preparing tea.