A Vengeful Deception. Lee Wilkinson
answering, he poured out two cups of tea and, handing her one, suggested, ‘Why don’t you sit down for a minute?’
Remaining standing, she protested, ‘You must have servants? I mean, in a place this size…’ Her voice tailed off helplessly.
‘In the normal way of things there’s a full staff, of course. But the Manor hasn’t been occupied since my father died. Only Mary Morrison, who was my father’s secretary, and her husband Arthur, who used to be the chauffeur, stayed on. They’ve lived here since before I was born, so they regard it as their home—’
‘But if your father’s secretary still lives here, why do you need to engage another one?’
Without a flicker of an eyelid, he answered, ‘Because Mary is turned sixty and looking forward to a quiet life rather than a full-time job.’
When Anna said nothing further, he went on, ‘The Morrisons haven’t had a holiday this year, and they wanted to go up to Scotland to spend Christmas and New Year with Arthur’s sister. I wasn’t expecting to be back in time for Christmas, so I told them to close up the house and go ahead.’
More than a little surprised by his long-winded explanation—it didn’t seem to be his style at all—she asked, ‘Then there’s no one else here?’
‘No, indeed.’ With soft emphasis he added, ‘We’re quite alone.’
His words seemed to hold more than a hint of satisfaction, and she felt a sudden disquiet. She’d been on edge from the start, but this was different.
Repressing a shiver brought on by apprehension, Anna warned herself not to let her imagination run riot.
Yet something in his manner, and the knowledge that they were quite alone, was far from reassuring. It must be a good half-mile to the road, and a great deal more than that to the nearest house…
Resolutely pushing away that alarming thought, she reminded herself firmly that Gideon Strange was the son of a well-respected baronet, and the new owner of Hartington Manor.
Of course he posed no threat, had no designs on her. Why on earth should he? She was just a stranger who, because of the circumstances, had given him a lift home, and to whom he’d offered a job.
If there were any more personal feelings, they were on her side… Which was why she’d decided not to accept his offer.
As though he could see into her mind, he said, ‘I take it you’ve come to a decision?’
‘Y-you mean about the job?’ she stammered. ‘Well, I…’ Then, chickening out, knowing it would be a lot easier to say no from the other end of a telephone, she lied, ‘I—I’d like a chance to think it over, if you don’t mind.’
His green eyes glinted. ‘I actually meant about staying here. Don’t you think, as we’re both on our own, that it would be nice if we were to spend Christmas together?’
Trying to believe he was teasing, she answered as lightly as possible, ‘Thanks for the offer, but I couldn’t possibly stay.’
Finishing her tea as quickly as she could, she put her cup back in the saucer with a little rattle, and, striving to sound casual, remarked, ‘Cleo will be wondering where on earth I’ve got to.’
Dark brows lifted a fraction. ‘I understood you to say she wasn’t expecting you?’
Cursing herself for telling him so much, Anna said weakly, ‘She knows me well enough to be certain I’d change my mind. Now I really must be going. They eat about seven, as soon as the twins have gone to bed…’
‘Well, if I can’t persuade you to stay,’ he murmured regretfully, ‘I’ll see you to the door.’
At that instant the lights flickered and went out.
Anna’s gasp was audible.
‘Don’t worry.’ In the darkness, Gideon’s voice sounded unconcerned. ‘It’s the generator. I’m afraid it’s on the blink. If you stay where you are for a moment, I’ll find a candle.’
Just as he finished speaking, the lights flashed on again, brilliant after the momentary blackness.
With a feeling of relief she hurried out of the kitchen and, trying belatedly to look as if she wasn’t escaping, crossed the hall to the front door.
Though she’d had several seconds’ start, and Gideon didn’t appear to be moving quickly, he was there before her.
His back to the dark wood, blocking her way, he said, ‘Let me know about the job, won’t you?’
‘Yes… Yes, I will.’
‘Oh, just one more thing…’
She paused and looked up at him. Close to, he dwarfed her five feet seven inches, and his shoulders seemed as wide as a barn door.
He lifted his right hand over their heads and, before she could react to the sprig of mistletoe he held, bent his head and kissed her on the lips.
For a few endless seconds she stood transfixed while that firm mouth covered hers, making her heart race and her head spin. Then, jerking away as though she’d been scalded, she brushed past him and pulled open the door.
She was shocked to find everywhere was white-over and a full-scale blizzard had started to blow. Snowflakes gusted in, swirling round their heads like handfuls of icy confetti.
‘I think it would be extremely unwise to set off in conditions like these,’ Gideon advised evenly.
Panic-stricken at the thought of having to stay, she insisted, ‘I’ll be all right, really I will. I don’t have too far to go.’
Disturbed, almost shocked by the effect of that relatively innocent kiss, she knew wild horses would have had a job to keep her there.
‘Well, do take care.’
Ducking her head, she made her way through the driving white curtain to the car.
Standing in the doorway, Gideon called after her, ‘Goodnight, Anna, and a merry Christmas.’
Somehow she managed, ‘Thank you, and the same to you.’
Slamming the car door behind her, she fastened her seat belt and felt for the keys which she’d left in the ignition.
Though the lights came on feebly, proving it wasn’t the battery, the engine flatly refused to start.
‘Try it without the lights,’ Gideon shouted, appearing at the car window.
She tried repeatedly, without success and with growing desperation.
Opening the car door a crack, he remarked cheerfully, ‘It doesn’t seem to be firing.’
Endeavouring to speak calmly, she asked, ‘Is there anything you can do?’
‘I’m sorry to say I don’t know much about machinery.’ Humorously, he added, ‘When I tried tinkering with the generator I only seemed to make matters worse.’
In an odd kind of way his answer surprised her. She had put him down as a man who would be able to deal with almost anything.
‘You don’t have another car, I suppose?’ She was clutching at straws.
‘I’m afraid not. All the family cars were sold after my father died.’
Freezing snow was blowing in, settling on her hair, making her shiver. ‘Then it will have to be a taxi.’
‘I doubt if any taxis will continue to run in these conditions.’
‘It’s quite likely that the main roads will still be clear. Please will you phone for me?’
‘Sorry. That isn’t possible.’
‘Why isn’t it possible?’ she asked sharply.
‘Because