Charade In Winter. Anne Mather
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Название: Charade In Winter
Автор: Anne Mather
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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There was still no one about when she emerged from the dining room, and she wondered where Oliver Morgan could be. Melissa, too, was conspicuous by her absence, for Alix had felt sure she would be eager to meet her new governess again.
She decided to go into the library as that was the place where Oliver Morgan expected her to work, and the cosy fire she found there lifted her spirits. The heavy maroon drapes had been drawn back from the windows to reveal that they overlooked the back of the house, where a stone terrace gave on to lawns and flower-beds, sadly lacking in colour at this time of the year. A few hardy roses still survived against the increasingly frosty air, but almost everything else had given up the struggle.
She turned back to the room and discovered that the textbooks Oliver had spoken of the night before had been laid out on the table awaiting her inspection, and she spent the next hour going through them. She was enjoying the delights of one of the story books Oliver Morgan had also provided when she heard voices outside, and curiosity made her get up and go to the windows again.
Oliver Morgan and his daughter were walking towards the house from the direction of the surrounding belt of trees, laughing and talking together with an easy camaraderie. They were both wearing chunky sweaters; and Melissa’s small legs were encased in well-fitting jodhpurs. Her father was not wearing riding breeches, but his tight-fitting pants were thrust into knee-length black boots, and moulded the bulging muscles of his powerful thighs.
Alix didn’t need to see the crop Melissa was carrying as she skipped lamely along beside her father to guess that they had been riding, and she wondered how many horses Oliver Morgan kept at the Hall. It was years since she had done any riding, but it was a tantalising prospect on a day that was doubtless as sharp and as clear as mountain air. Still, she thought half impatiently, she was not here to enjoy herself in any capacity, but she returned to the table with a certain amount of dissatisfaction.
She was still sitting there when the door swung open and her employer and his daughter entered the room. They brought with them the fresh tang of pine and larch, and even Melissa’s naturally pale features were flushed with healthy colour.
‘Good morning, Miss—I mean, Mrs Thornton,’ she exclaimed excitedly. ‘What are you doing?’
Oliver Morgan closed the door behind them. ‘I believe your governess is preparing tomorrow’s lessons, Melly,’ he told her lightly before Alix could reply, his size successfully reducing the generous proportions of the room. In the revealing light of day the grey streaks in his hair were more pronounced, but for all that he was still the most disturbing man Alix had ever encountered.
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been reading, Melissa,’ she said, deliberately addressing her remarks to the child. She lifted the book to show her. ‘Do you know it?’
Melissa came to the table and studied the coloured jacket. Then she shook her head. ‘No. The only books I’ve read are about Yoko.’
‘Yoko?’
Alix frowned, and Oliver came to the table, hitching himself on to one corner and saying in mock-reproof: ‘Yoko, the rabbit! Surely you’ve heard of him! He’s quite a famous fellow, isn’t he, Melly?’
Melissa giggled, and said: ‘Oh, Daddy!’ while Alix was amazed at his indulgence with the child. Whoever would have guessed that the unapproachable scourge of the Royal Academy could be so sensitive to a little girl’s fantasies? He had been smiling teasingly at the child, but suddenly he turned and found her eyes upon him, and for a devastating minute he held her gaze. She was sure he did it deliberately, and only a determination not to give in to whatever egotistical urge he had to humiliate her forced her not to look away. Nevertheless, when Melissa did inevitably distract his attention, Alix felt exhausted by the effort.
Quickly tiring of the books, Melissa had more important things on her mind: ‘We’ve been riding,’ she told Alix eagerly. ‘Can you ride, Mrs Thornton?’
Alix hesitated. ‘Well, I used to ride years ago,’ she conceded at last, and immediately Melissa looked up at her father and said:
‘Perhaps Mrs Thornton could take me riding when you’re working.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ protested Alix doubtfully, aware of Oliver’s eyes on her again. ‘I mean—it’s years since I was on a horse.’
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