Trisha.
She nodded enthusiastically, hurrying through the introductions. She had had her eye on Mark Logan for the last few days now and this was the first opportunity she had had to actually speak to him. He was the most attractive-looking man she had seen around here for ages, not counting Rafe of course; no one quite measured up to Rafe Savage, and she supposed no one ever would. Most of the girls in the area were half in love with Rafe and given the least encouragement would go to him on any terms he cared to make. But no encouragement was ever forthcoming.
Carl Logan smiled at Hazel. ‘Would you like to challenge them for three sets?’
Hazel laughed. ‘I’m not sure if I’m up to three sets. I haven’t played for some time, but I’m willing to try if you are. I just hope you’re a good player,’ she added teasingly.
It appeared that he was, the two of them taking the first and third sets, although not without a lengthy battle. The four of them just about collapsed into the loungers next to the pool, sipping thirstily at the iced lime juice they had ordered.
‘Your tennis is excellent.’ Carl watched her over the rim of his tall glass, his blue eyes clear and uncomplicated. He was a refreshing change after the trauma of her other meetings today.
She grinned at him. ‘I’m a little rusty,’ she corrected him. ‘If you weren’t such a good player we would have lost, miserably.’
Mark watched them with amused eyes. ‘When the two of you have quite finished complimenting each other on that purely lucky victory,’ he said tongue in cheek, ‘I suggest we all make arrangements to go to the dance together tomorrow evening.’
‘That would be lovely,’ answered Trisha excitedly. ‘Wouldn’t it, Hazel?’
Hazel looked from one to the other of them, not really sure if she should make arrangements like that without consulting Rafe first. He hadn’t always attended these weekly dances, although when he had he had always expected her to accompany him. But that had been before his accident. Anyway, hadn’t he more or less told her to keep out of his way for the duration of her stay here?
She nodded her head. ‘Yes, lovely,’ she agreed.
It was obvious that Trisha wholeheartedly approved of the idea anyway. She could talk of little else but Mark Logan on the way back to the Marston home. The Logan brothers were certainly an attractive pair, but in a way they reminded Hazel too much of Josh and the men like him she had met during her stay in America.
Maybe Josh could have meant more to her; she didn’t know, and hadn’t had the time to find out. But she had heard the rumours about him like everyone else, it hadn’t taken Linda to tell her that Josh had let his fiancée down only two weeks before the wedding. She had already heard about that and it hadn’t endeared him to her. But when she had met him she had found him charming and very attractive.
She had been a little more sorry to leave him when she left America than any of her other male friends there, but since arriving in Cornwall she could think only of Rafe. She had the feeling that Carl Logan could become a friend if she would let him, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted that.
‘Coming in for dinner?’ Trisha invited.
Hazel shook her head regretfully. ‘I’d love to, but I suppose I’d better get back,’ she grimaced. ‘No doubt Celia would just love for me to absent myself from the dining table. Think of the trouble she could cause if I don’t turn up for dinner on my first evening home. Lord, I’d forgotten all about these intrigues! It’s just as if I’d never been away.’
‘Well, I for one am glad you’re back,’ Trisha squeezed her hand affectionately. ‘See you tomorrow.’
Hazel didn’t hurry back to Savage House, knowing that her welcome there would be no more enthusiastic than the one she had received earlier, from either member of the Savage family! Aunt Sylvia was right, she should tell Rafe that Celia hadn’t written to her, but somehow that would only be admitting his sister’s hatred of her, and at the moment she wasn’t even sure she was prepared to accept the extent of that herself, let alone convince Rafe it was so.
‘You’re back, then,’ was Celia’s curt greeting as she sneeringly watched Hazel take the stairs two at a time on her way up to her room. ‘Rafe isn’t to be disturbed at the moment,’ she added curtly.
‘I’ve already seen him,’ Hazel told her softly.
She knew Celia was surprised by this information by the widening of her mercenary blue eyes. ‘I see,’ she said slowly. ‘Not very pleasant to look at any more, is he, Hazel?’ she taunted.
Hazel shrugged, Rafe’s appearance had been a shock when she had first seen him again, but shocks were quickly overcome and familiarity soon took their place. In a couple of days she would have forgotten he had ever looked any other way. And in just over a week’s time she would have left here for good.
‘I’ve seen worse,’ she replied carelessly.
‘Perhaps you have,’ Celia sneered. ‘But not on someone who means as much to you as Rafe does.’
Hazel flushed, looking sharply at the other woman. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded tautly.
Celia gave her a pitying smile. ‘Rafe and I often laughed together over the fact that you imagined yourself in love with him before you left here three years ago. It was quite amusing to watch your constant playing for his attention.’
‘You’re lying!’ Hazel’s face was bright red. ‘Rafe isn’t like that. And I’m certainly not in love with him!’
‘Perhaps not now, not now he looks like something out of a horror film, but you were once. How fickle you are, Hazel! A few scars and you’re no longer interested.’
‘If Rafe finds me such an embarrassment why did he ask me to come back here?’ Hazel demanded defiantly.
Celia gave a satisfied smile. ‘He didn’t,’ she answered smugly. ‘I sent that telegram asking you to come home.’
‘You did?’ Hazel’s look was scathing. ‘Slightly late, weren’t you?’
She watched as Celia coloured uncomfortably. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked coldly.
‘Only that Rafe expected you to send for me a year ago when his accident happened—in fact, he believes you to have done so. Now why should he think that, Celia? Could it possibly be because you told him you’d written to me when in fact you hadn’t? Could that be the answer?’ Hazel mused.
‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’ hissed the older woman. ‘Rafe didn’t need you then and he doesn’t need you now. You’re only here so that he can finally rid himself of the responsibility of the headstrong clinging child you’ve been in his life. After your birthday you won’t be welcome here at all.’
‘I already know that,’ Hazel returned softly. ‘But you didn’t need to bring me back to England to tell me that, a letter would have sufficed. America suited me very well, I could have done without this upheaval.’
‘That wouldn’t have done at all. You see, I know you, Hazel, you wouldn’t have believed it unless Rafe told you so himself. I gather he did tell you?’
‘Yes,’
