Whisper The Darkness Part 12

CHAPTER EIGHT.

IT was easy to sustain her anger against him, but not so easy to dispel die urgent awakening of feelings he had incited. Her resentment at his arrogance was genuine enough, but it hurt to know that while she had been overwhelmed by emotions stronger than any she had ever known, Jake had been merely expunging his frustration. Since his wife's death, he had been denied any physical relationship with a woman, and for a brief moment she had supplied a need. But it was not a need he welcomed or enjoyed. His reactions afterwards had made that plain enough, and she found herself wondering about the kind of relationship he had had with his wife, and how she would have reacted to this harsh, embittered individual who must bear little resemblance to the man he had once been.

Mrs Parrish arrived, as expected, the following afternoon. She came from Penrith, driving her own small car, and Joanna watched from the library window as Jake went to greet her. She was a small woman, brown-haired and dark-eyed, and Anya, who had been free to question her father, had told her that she was a widow with a grown-up family. Certainly her appearance alone was a far cry from Mrs Harris's slovenly ways, and in the following days Joanna's respect for her abilities increased. She was obviously quite capable of running the house single-handed, and although she missed the sense of satisfaction she had gained organising the household, Joanna much appreciated the good food she was served, and the absence of the neglect which had so characterised Ravengarth on her arrival.

Mrs Parrish was not a gossip either. If she found the situation at Ravengarth intriguing, she refrained from saying so, merely confining her comments to a sincere sympathy for someone who had lost so much so quickly. To Joanna, these remarks had a double-edged sting, and although she conceded that Jake bore his burden well, she found her own sympathies much divided.

Jake's att.i.tude was not one of a man bereft, and she suspected his belief in his own incapacity had never been put to the test. With Anya's increasing interest in her school work, he was often called upon to examine her efforts, and his reactions were not those of someone unable to grasp the problems she showed him. Joanna wished she knew more about these matters, but she was beginning to believe that Jake's disabilities had been temporary, a consequence of the accident, no more, and given the opportunity, his brain would respond to any kind of stimulus.

Not that she could say such a thing to him. Since that scene in the Range Rover he had avoided her like the plague, and every exchange they had had, had been in the company of either Anya or Mrs Parrish. There had been no more talk of her leaving, and she guessed that so long as she kept her place and Anya appeared happy, there would not be, and at times she was tempted to try a little brinkmanship on her own account. But the idea of leaving Ravengarth had become so abhorrent to her that she remained in that state of limbo he had created, and determinedly ignored the ambiguity of the situation.

She managed to persuade Anya that some new clothes would not come amiss, particularly as with the advent of October the weather had turned much colder. Mrs Parrish had succeeded in turning on the ancient heating system without blowing up the boiler, but the radiators were few and hardly adequate, and until the fires were lit it was necessary to wear something warm. In consequence, Joanna approached Jake one morning with the request that she might borrow the Range Rover and take Anya into Penrith.

Jake was in the barn when she found him, forking fresh hay into the stall where Gertrude came for milking, and for once Matt wasn't with him. Between them the two men did all the jobs about the holding, which included looking after the score or so of sheep, feeding the chickens, milking the cow, and all the other duties necessary to the efficient running of the place. Joanna had not yet discovered how Jake found the time to do any painting, and certainly in the three weeks since her arrival he had avoided spending long periods in the house.

Now he looked up warily at her approach, and his mouth took on a downward slant when he saw that she was alone.

'Yes?'

The enquiry was short, and Joanna couldn't deny the twinge of disappointment his abruptness gave her. It was as if he was determined that no further familiarity between them should ever be conceived, and it was impossible to recall those moments in the car without a feeling of incredulity.

'I-er-I wanted to ask if it would be all right if I took Anya to Penrith,' she said now, adopting a politeness she was far from feeling. 'There-well, there are things she needs. Shoes, clothes, underwear. Have I your permission to buy her a winter wardrobe?

It's something she badly needs. The garments she's wearing at present are rapidly falling to pieces, and -'

'I'm afraid I don't have the time to take you into Penrith today, Miss Seton,' he interrupted her brusquely. 'I appreciate your concern on Anya's behalf, but unfortunately it's not possible for me to take time out for shopping in the middle of a working day.'

'I didn't ask you to take time out for shopping,' Joanna replied evenly. 'I merely wanted your permission to borrow the Range Rover and to buy the things Anya needs. I'm quite capable of driving myself to Penrith.'

Jake stared at her broodingly. 'You want to borrow the Range Rover?'

'If you don't mind.'

'Have you ever driven one before?'

'No. But I don't suppose it's any different from a car.'

'I'm afraid it is.' His tone was not encouraging. 'Range Rovers have a four-wheel drive system, the same as Land Rovers.'

Joanna squared her slim shoulders. 'Are you saying that I can't borrow it, then?'

He sighed. 'Miss Seton -'

'We can always take the bus. That is how I came here, after all.'

'You persist in wanting your own way, don't you, Miss Seton?

Is it unreasonable that you might accept that although I'm too busy today to pander to your whims, there's every possibility that I shall have to go into Penrith myself before the week is out to get supplies?'

Joanna gasped. 'Is that how you see it? Pandering to my whims?

Don't you care that your daughter is running around in clothes only fit for a jumble sale!'

'That's an exaggeration, Miss Seton!'

It was, and she knew it. But she hated that look of smug satisfaction on his lean dark face, and she longed to say something to shatter his air of controlled indifference.

'You don't care, do you?' she stormed, saying the first thing that came into her head. 'You really don't care about anyone but yourself. You come up here, cut yourself off from any contact with that hard, cold world that only exists in your imagination, immerse yourself in self-pity ...'

'I think you've said enough, Miss Seton.' With great deliberation he leaned the fork he had been using against the wall of the barn and thrust his hands into the pockets of his dark pants, 'Now, if you'l leave me to get on with my work -'

'Am I to take it you refuse?' she persisted, aware of the tension he was doing his utmost to disguise. 'Is Anya not to have any new clothes?'

His mouth tightened. 'You may make whatever arrangements you like, Miss Seton,' he replied, in a controlled voice. 'However, I think it would be most unwise to use the bus. They're infrequent at best, and it would be unfortunate if you were stranded in Penrith.'

'So, in other words, we can't go!' Joanna's indignation was tinged with disappointment. 'Why? What are you afraid of? Just because you're afraid to meet people, does that condemn us all to the same fate?'

It was an unforgivable thing to say, and as soon as the words were uttered she wished she could retract them. But it was too late; they had been said. And the sudden contortion of his features had a fleeting vulnerability that tore at her heart. But it didn't last long. His fury at her provoking tongue erupted into violent speech, and his response was as destructive as hers.

'What do you know of me-of my feelings?' he grated. 'Do you think because I was once foolish enough to caress that promiscuous body of yours that you know all there is to know about me? What do you know of the world-the real world, I mean, my world? Have you ever suffered the torment of knowing you're no good for anything any more? Useless, both to yourself and the people around you? Of course you haven't. You say I don't care about anybody but myself-well, perhaps it's true. But perhaps that's because it's easier on other people that way. Do you think I want anybody's pity? Do you think I want to hear people telling their friends not to mind me, that I'm harmless enough, just a vegetable, left to rot in some round hole I don't fit any more!'

'You don't know that,' she protested urgently, disturbed in spite of herself. 'How do you know how people would react?

You haven't given them a chance. How do you honestly know you can't work any more? You don't know something like that until you try.'

'Ever the optimist, aren't you?' he jeered grimly. 'Are you sure Marcia hadn't other plans for you than Anya's education?'

'I don't know what you mean.' Joanna felt helpless in the face of his implacability. 'But if it helps you to rail at me, then go ahead. I don't care. Anything's better than apathy. Just because you lost your wife-because she's dead, and nothing you can do -'.

'What?' He lunged towards her, grasping her arm just above the elbow and glaring angrily down at her from their consequent nearness. 'What do you mean? What crazy ideas are you nurturing now?' He shook his head impatiently. 'You poor romantic fool, do you imagine I'm harbouring some hopeless pa.s.sion for Elizabeth?

Do you think it was my grief at losing her that unhinged my mind?'

'It's natural that -'

'Natural rubbish,' he retorted bleakly. 'Obviously, Marcia left out the more salient points of our relationship. Did she not explain that Elizabeth was suing for a divorce? That any affection we'd had for one another died soon after Anya was born.'

Joanna gazed up at him. 'But you have a son as well. A-a nineteen-year-old son. At-at university.'

'Victor is my stepson, Miss Seton. Elizabeth had already been married and divorced before we met. The boy was seven years old when we-became husband and wife. He now lives with his father's family.'

Joanna felt totally perplexed. Aunt Lydia had not always been accurate in her revelations, and in this instance it appeared she had been completely misled. It explained so many things, of course-the fact that the boy's name was never mentioned, his prolonged absence from the household, and Aunt Lydia's mistaken ideas about Jake's own age.

'I'm sorry,' she said now, aware of the numbing effect his fingers were having on her arm. 'Naturally, I thought -'

'You're not paid to think, Miss Seton,' he essayed, the tawny eyes glittering between their dark fringe of lashes. 'My G.o.d, you do persist in stirring up the hornets' nest, don't you? Why, I wonder? Is that how you get your kicks? By destroying what little self-respect I have left?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' she got out unsteadily.

'There's no point in discussing the matter any longer, Mr Sheldon.

You've made your position perfectly clear. And now, if you'l let me go, I'll tell Anya your answer.'

'And d.a.m.n me in the process,' he suggested roughly, looking down at his fingers, dark against the cream wool of her sweater.

'What do you really want from me, I wonder? Blood?'

Almost imperceptibly, the atmosphere in the barn had altered as he spoke, and Joanna was immediately aware of it. It was as if their closeness-his touching her-had wrought some chemical change, and she could tell by the narrowing of his eyes that he was recognising the intimacy. His thumb-at least, she thought it was his thumb-probed the vulnerability of veins protected within the joint of her arm; but even as Joanna strove to remain unmoved by its sensuous exploration, Anya's clear voice rang behind them.

'Miss Seton, Miss Seton! You've got a visitor. It's Mr Trevor.'

Nothing could have been designed to promote a more violent withdrawal. Almost before Anya had finished speaking, Jake's hand had dropped from her arm, and she stood there rubbing the bruised flesh with a sense almost of bereavement. It was as well the barn was shadowy, and Anya's eyes were dazzled from the sunlight outside, or she might have wondered why her father and her governess were standing so close together, and what they had been saying to bring that bloom of colour to Joanna's cheeks.

As it was, she hovered in the open doorway, more intent on feeding the fires of resentment her father would display at the other man's unwelcome arrival, enjoying what she thought was Joanna's embarra.s.sment at Paul's tenacity.

'Did you invite him here?' Jake demanded now, addressing his question to Joanna as he strode towards the door, and she shook her head indignantly.

'No. But there's no reason why he shouldn't come, is there?'

She summoned all her small store of composure. 'I-er-I'm glad he has. It means I can apologise.'

Jake halted, brows descending. 'Apologise?' he echoed coldly.

'Forgive me, but I don't understand. Exactly what have you to apologise for?'

'For wasting his time. I-well, I've never contacted him to let him know that-that you managed to find a housekeeper.'

Jake's mouth compressed. 'You can forget it. I myself apprised his father of that fact the day after Mrs Parrish's arrival.'

Joanna gasped. 'And you didn't think to tell me?'

He shrugged. 'I didn't consider it concerned you.'

Joanna knew she ought to keep silent, particularly with Anya's sharp eyes alert for every word, but she couldn't.

'What you mean is, you wanted to deter Paul from coming to Ravengarth! You knew about our bargain, and you hoped he'd take the hint. Well, apparently he hasn't, and I for one am delighted!' And with that, she brushed past both of them, out of the barn and across the yard to where Paul was waiting, leaning against the bonnet of the Land Rover.

'So there you are!' he exclaimed, with evident relief. 'I was beginning to wonder if Sheldon's daughter was just having me on.

She said you were in the barn, but I had my suspicions. Don't tell me he's got you doing farm ch.o.r.es now there's someone to look after the house.'

'No.' Joanna forced a smile, but it wasn't easy, particularly as she was aware of Jake and his daughter rapidly approaching behind her.

'I-er-Anya and I-we wanted to go into Penrith shopping, and I went to ask if I could borrow the Range Rover. But I can't.'

Paul's face beamed. 'Well now, isn't that a coincidence? It just so happens I'm going into Penrith this morning. How would you and- and Anya like to ride in with me?'

Joanna opened her mouth to reply, and then closed it again as Jake came abreast of them. His expression told her he had heard Paul's suggestion, and his response was not unexpected.

'That won't be necessary, Trevor,' he remarked, after offering a perfunctory greeting. 'Naturally, if Miss Seton wishes to accompany you, I have no objections, but Anya will stay at home.'

'Oh, Daddy!' Anya's cry was anguished. 'But I want to go!

Miss Seton said she'd take me. Why can't I go with Mr Trevor too?'

'Yes, why can't she?' exclaimed Joanna, doing the unforgivable thing and taking the child's part against her father. 'It doesn't matter to you how we get to Penrith, does it? So long as you're not involved.'

Jake's eyes smouldered. 'Air Trevor can't be expected to welcome the company of an eleven-year-old, Miss Seton,' he retorted, the coldness of his voice belying the amber fire. 'As I say, your time is your own.'

'There's really no reason why she shouldn't come with us, Sheldon,'

Paul put in smoothly, and Anya turned an appealing face in her father's direction.

'Please, Daddy,' she begged, tugging at his sleeve, and his expression softened in response to her pleading.

'Very well,' he said at last, though the look he turned on Joanna was not encouraging. 'If Miss Seton insists on making the trip today, instead of later in the week, then I suppose you can go with her.'

'Thank you, Daddy!'

Anya hugged her arm against her cheek, delighted to have won her own way for once, but Joanna knew it was a hollow victory. Jake had deliberately made her the protagonist, and the responsibility for the outing was on her head.

'We'll get our coats,' she said tightly, refusing to give in to his moral blackmail, and with merely a bow of his head in Paul's direction, Jake strode away.

Despite her fears to the contrary, both Joanna and Anya enjoyed the outing. Paul was a talkative companion, and although he got impatient when Anya interrupted their conversation, he endeavoured not to ignore her completely.

Anya, Joanna guessed, was simply enjoying the unaccustomed change of surroundings, and with a promise of some new exercise books for her writing, she was more willing to behave herself. The possibility of getting some new clothes was less appealing, but Joanna hoped that once she saw herself in feminine clothes she would begin to show an interest.

They left Paul in the market place, with a promise to meet him in two hours for lunch. He had invited them to join him in the b.u.t.tery of the local hotel, and even Anya seemed excited at the prospect.

Joanna guessed it was years since the girl had taken a meal in a restaurant, and she half wished Jake had accompanied them.

It didn't take long to locate a shop that specialised in children's clothes, and Joanna was delighted to find it stocked up-to-date as well as traditional items. It was fascinating, looking at the racks of skirt and trouser suits, smocks and pinafores, shirts and waistcoats.

There were dresses with matching waistcoats, leather jackets, with fun- fur collars, long-skirted party wear, and jeans for every occasion. Even Anya's reluctant interest was aroused, and pretty soon she was trying on garments with increasing enthusiasm, delighted to discover her skimpy shape was complemented by the most fashionable clothes.

'Mummy used to say I was too thin,' she volunteered, as she stood before the long mirror in a becoming skirt suit of fringed suede, with a contrasting scarlet shirt and bootlace de. 'She said girls should be round and chubby, not bony freaks like me.'

Joanna was appalled that the child should have such memories of her mother, but she turned her remarks aside, saying instead: 'These days it's fashionable to be slim. But it really doesn't matter what you are, so long as you're happy. And everyone can look smart. So long as they choose the right clothes.'

Anya nodded. 'I like this suit. It's pretty. Do you think Daddy will like it, too?'

'I'm sure he will,' Joanna a.s.sured her, more firmly than she felt.

'We'll have that-and the other trouser suit, the green wool one. And those two dresses you tried on before.'