Melting Fire. Anne Mather

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Bella was not in the mood to mince her words. ‘I’ve known Amy Morrison for eight years, and I’ve never had cause to complain about her—natural interest in the affairs of the village.’

      Richard poured himself more wine. ‘I gather you invited Olivia to join you, Bella,’ he observed, studying the contents of his glass with a critical eye, and she hastened to explain that she had ridden into the village to visit Mr Raynor.

      ‘Naturally, I called at the vicarage with some flowers for the church,’ she added, casting another injured look in the girl’s direction. ‘Olivia didn’t want to accompany me, and I understood she was tired after her journey. I didn’t know she was too ashamed to admit what an ungrateful girl she is!’

      Olivia gasped, and even Alex looked taken aback at this statement. But it was Richard who asked her to explain herself, the mildness of his tone not fooling Olivia for a minute. He was furiously angry, and she could have slapped Bella for deliberately landing her in this situation.

      However, now Bella chose to be obtuse, perhaps regretting the impulse to repay Olivia for her impertinence, and when Richard asked what she meant by ingratitude, she tried to evade the question.

      ‘After all I’ve done for her!’ she declared, urging Alex to try some of the potato salad, but Richard wasn’t satisfied with that.

      ‘You said—Olivia might be too ashamed to admit what an ungrateful girl she was,’ he reminded her tautly. ‘I want to know exactly what she’s done to warrant such a remark.’

      ‘Oh, Rich …’ It was Olivia who spoke now, still hoping to avoid the inevitable with an alternative explanation. ‘You know what Bella’s like. She always exaggerates. I may have said something to hurt her, I don’t know. Whatever it was, it’s not important, so eat your lunch.’

      She had never noticed how cold green eyes could become, with the glacier quality of packed ice. They stared into hers unblinkingly, and unwillingly she felt the betraying colour flooding her cheeks. Thank goodness for sunburn, she thought weakly, but it was a brief respite. Her interpretation of Bella’s remark was not accepted, and his voice was as icy as his eyes, as he said:

      ‘You might as well tell me, Olivia, because I mean to know. In what way have you convinced Bella that you’re ungrateful?’

      ‘Because I want to get a job!’ she declared with a rush, and then sat back, aghast, at the realisation that she had actually told him.

      There was a pregnant silence, like the one that had followed his anger with her that morning, and then, with immense control, he asked: ‘What kind of a job?’

      Olivia expelled her breath on a shaky sigh. ‘I—I’m not sure. It depends what’s available. I—I’m good at languages. I thought I might be able to use them in some capacity.’

      Richard nodded slowly, thoughtfully, almost as if he was considering her suggestion on its merits. Then he looked at her again, and although his eyes were still emotionless, the glittering coldness had gone.

      ‘Good,’ he said, and she almost sank through her chair in amazement, but her relief was also shortlived. ‘You can work for me. I need a social secretary, someone who can play hostess when I have guests, and speak their own language. It was a suggestion I was going to make, not immediately perhaps, but eventually, and now you’ve taken the decision out of my hands——’

      ‘No!’ Olivia stared at him across the table, her eyes wide and indignant. ‘No, Richard! I—I don’t want to work for you. I want to be independent. I want a job that I’ve managed to get on my own merits, not a position created by you to keep me occupied.’

      Richard’s fingers smoothed the stem of his wine glass. Their caress was almost sensuous, and Olivia’s eyes were drawn to their sensitivity and their strength. They could snap the stem with only the lightest of pressures, and intuitively she knew he could have snapped her neck as easily.

      ‘This is not a contrived solution, Olivia,’ he stated at last, and she knew that he was deliberately slowing his words to keep her in suspense. ‘It was my intention all along that you should become my hostess, and mistress of Copley. Bella knows as well as I do that I intend you should learn the management of the estate from every angle, so that when she retires in a couple of years you’ll be able to take over.’

      ‘No——’

      ‘Yes.’ He was adamant. ‘You don’t imagine I sent you to St Helena’s for the good of your health, do you?’ His lips thinned. ‘The girls who attend academies like St Helena’s do so to learn the art of entertaining, of being a good hostess. They learn about food and wine, and how to handle people—languages, too, if they have an aptitude.’

      ‘Richard——’ Olivia was conscious of Alex’s eyes upon them, as well as Bella’s, and his embarrassment was almost as great as hers.

      But Richard was undeterred. ‘Listen to me, Olivia,’ he said, ‘because I only intend to say this once; you owe it to me to stay here. For the past fifteen years I’ve been grooming you to this position. I didn’t spend all that money on expensive boarding schools and an even more expensive finishing school to have you go and waste it all in some pitiful little bid for independence! You belong to Copley, Olivia, and don’t you forget it. And to me!’

       CHAPTER THREE

      OLIVIA spent the rest of the afternoon in her room. In spite of the fact that it was a glorious day, and everyone else was sitting outside, either in the sun or out of it, Olivia remained in her room, hot and frustrated, and bitterly resentful.

      After Richard’s cold statement at the table, she had left the room without even finishing her lunch. She wasn’t hungry, indeed she felt she never wanted to eat another morsel that Richard had paid to put on her plate. He had let her go, even though she knew he could easily have shamed her into staying, and she had climbed the stairs with her head held high, hiding the wounds he had inflicted.

      But in her room the floodgates had opened, and tears of pain and humiliation had soaked the sprigged quilt on her bed. It was all so unreal, so unexpected, and she would never have believed Richard could speak to her that way. She had suspected he might not approve of her wanting to take a job, but not for those reasons, never for those reasons, and the idea that he had been educating her for his own ends left her feeling raw and abused. Lying on her back, impervious to the pain of the burned flesh of her shoulders, she had gone over everything he had said in minute detail. Yet still she found it difficult to accept that the loving stepbrother she had adored had in fact had only his own aims in view. She remembered with painful intensity the sports days he had attended when she was at boarding school in Sussex, the admiration he had inspired among her school friends, and her simple delight in knowing that she was the reason he was there. She had not realised he was only checking on his investment, she thought bitterly, rolling on to her stomach. Realising that his apparent affection for her stemmed from the satisfaction he felt that she was fulfilling all his hopes for her filled her with disgust, and she wished she could strip every shed of clothing from her back and walk out of his house this very minute.

      Of course, she thought unhappily, she should have guessed what manner of man he was. Anyone who could buy out a company and then write off their securities without a flicker of compunction had to have a different set of values from her own. She had known he was ruthless in business. She had seen him cut some arrogant competitor down to size, or deliver some succinct response to a newsman’s criticism СКАЧАТЬ