Moon Witch. Anne Mather
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Название: Moon Witch

Автор: Anne Mather

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Modern

isbn: 9781472097231

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ said J.K., nodding across at Sara. ‘Don’t you agree?’

      ‘Oh, but—I mean, I’m not dressed for—dinner,’ stammered Sara awkwardly, recalling Jarrod Kyle’s presence with some misgivings.

      J.K. gave a deprecatory gesture. ‘That’s of no importance, my dear. I shan’t be changing now, and I don’t suppose Jarrod is still at home. Eh, Morris?’

      ‘Mr. Jarrod left half an hour ago,’ said Morris evenly. ‘He told me to tell you he might be late.’

      J.K. smiled sardonically. ‘Did he? How thoughtful of him! All right, Morris. Dinner for two.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’ Morris withdrew, and J.K. rose to his feet and crossed to the cocktail bar.

      ‘What will you have to drink?’ he asked. ‘You must have something. Something innocuous, of course.’

      Sara swallowed hard. ‘Wh—what do you suggest?’

      ‘Oh, I don’t know—how about a small sherry?’

      ‘Yes. That would be fine.’ She relaxed against the red upholstery, thinking with relief that Jarrod would not present his disturbing presence at dinner. Then she frowned. If Jarrod had left, how was she going to get home? ‘Mr.—J.K.?’

      He glanced round. ‘Yes?’

      ‘If—if your son has left—how will I get home? I mean—is there a bus service, or something?’

      J.K. shook his head. ‘Naturally Potter will take you in the car.’

      ‘Potter?’

      ‘My chauffeur. Now, there you are. I think you’ll find that to your liking.”

      Sara sipped the sherry pensively, wondering where Jarrod Kyle had gone.. Obviously he would have plenty of friends and acquaintances in the district. She wondered if he was married. And where was J.K.’s wife?

      ‘Is your wife——?’ She halted abruptly. It was none of her business after all. Turning red, she hoped he had not noticed her words. But of course he had, and he said:

      ‘Go on! What were you going to ask? I think you’re entitled to ask a few questions yourself. I’ve done most of the questioning so far. Don’t be nervous!’

      ‘Well, I was just going to ask where your wife was,’ said Sara.

      J.K. nodded. ‘My wife is in Jamaica,’ he said easily. ‘She lives there.’

      ‘Oh!’ Sara’s mouth belied her astonishment.

      He smiled, swallowing some of the Martini in his glass. ‘Do you think that is an unconventional relationship? Don’t be afraid to say.’

      Sara shrugged. ‘Well, do you live here?’

      ‘Most of the time,’ he nodded.

      ‘Then yes, I do think it’s unconventional. Are you divorced?’

      ‘No. Just separated, through choice. Helen is not like me; she likes the social life. She also likes a warm climate. Several years ago she developed a mild congestion of the lungs. She was advised not to winter in England, so’—he shrugged—‘she moved to Jamaica.’

      ‘And you?’

      ‘Well, for a while—in fact for many years—we had discovered we had nothing in common. Our lives were quite separate. It was a natural course of events that she should eventually leave.’

      ‘How awful!’ Sara sighed. ‘I am sorry.’

      ‘Why be sorry? Helen is happy, and so am I. We’re not enemies. We’ve been quite civilised about it since Jarrod was about—oh, seven or eight years old.’ He poured himself another Martini. ‘Helen came from a wealthy Yorkshire family. I think she fell in love with me, although I’m not certain of that. At any rate she was sufficiently interested to marry me, and in so doing provide me with the necessary funds to expand my business.’

      Sara’s eyes were wide. ‘You mean—you married her for her money!’

      J.K. lifted his shoulders. ‘How cold and calculating you make that sound, Sara. How capable young people are of exposing life to the cold light of day! I would say we married out of a mutual need, at that time. I’ve repaid Helen every penny of the money she loaned me. I don’t consider my actions so despicable.’ He sighed, as he watched the revealing expressions crossing her face. ‘I suppose you do.’

      Sara bit her lip. ‘Oh, really—J.K.—it’s nothing to do with me. I mean—I don’t know all the facts or anything. I’m not your judge.’

      ‘No, perhaps not. But you make me see myself as others might see me.’ He gave a chuckle. ‘How Jarrod would have enjoyed hearing you bare the basic facts of life! I think sometimes he can be a little cruel himself.’

      Remembering Jarrod’s mocking, meaningful words in the hall of Malthorpe, Sara thought that was entirely likely.

      The evening passed so quickly that Sara could hardly believe it when J.K. told her it was time she was going home. She felt a sense of regret that it should be over so swiftly, but was surprised when J.K. said:

      ‘Will you come again on Thursday? I can’t invite you tomorow. Jarrod is entertaining some chaps from the Ministry, and it would all be incredibly boring, anyway.’

      Sara slid her arms into her coat. ‘Well, yes—I can, if you want me to,’ she said a little breathlessly.

      J.K. nodded. ‘Good, good! I’ll look forward to that. Goodnight, Sara.’

      ‘Goodnight, J.K.,’ she answered him, and followed Morris out to the chauffeur-driven Rolls that waited at the foot of the steps.

      Mrs. Mason was very curious about what had happened when Sara returned to their house in Mead Road. ‘What’s going to happen to you?’ she asked. ‘Are you going to live with this Mr. Kyle and his wife?’

      Sara sought about awkwardly for words to say. She knew Mrs. Mason of old, and everything she said to her would be spread around the small town of Bridchester within a few days. ‘Nothing has been decided yet, Mrs. Mason,’ she replied honestly. ‘I—I had dinner with the older Mr. Kyle, the one Grandfather used to know. The man who came here—was his son.’

      ‘I see.’ Mrs. Mason frowned. ‘Did you tell him you couldn’t go on staying here?’

      ‘I don’t think we discussed that at all, Mrs. Mason.’

      ‘You didn’t? Well, what did you discuss then?’

      ‘Oh, mostly about—Grandfather,’ replied Sara, wishing this catechism was over. She ought to have thought about this coming home in the car, and prepared her answers accordingly. ‘Do you mind if I go to bed now?’

      Mrs. Mason shrugged. ‘I suppose so. When will you know what’s going on?’

      ‘I’m having dinner with Mr. Kyle again on Thursday evening,’ said Sara. ‘I—I might have made some СКАЧАТЬ