Lure Of Eagles. Anne Mather

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she had been justified in her outburst, that he had been absurdly reserved and uncommunicative, and that she had no wish to go to Peru anyway. But the feeling of disaster persisted, and she knew she would have given anything to retract what she had said.

      ‘Is that your final word?’

      She lifted her lids to find him looking at her, and immediately a wave of hot colour surged into her cheeks. ‘You mean—I have a choice?’ she gasped.

      His expression was not flattering. ‘As I regard your outburst in much the same way as I would any irresponsible statement, the question does not arise,’ he retorted, making her feel ridiculously childish. ‘You are young. You lack self-discipline, as I stated earlier. But you do not dissemble, as I believe your brother does, and I am persuaded that Lisel may teach you as much as you can teach her.’

      Domine stared at him indignantly, but she made no attempt to defend herself. The opportunity she had thought lost had been restored to her, and for the moment that was enough.

      ‘Very well,’ she said, moving her shoulders in an offhand gesture. ‘I will come to Peru—to Puerto Limas. But I won’t promise to behave like one of your Peruvian maidens, all demure and sweetly biddable!’

      There was a moment’s pause while he digested this, and then he said, surprisingly: ‘I would not expect you to, Miss Temple.’

      To Domine’s surprise, Mark was not enthusiastic.

      ‘What the hell is the point of travelling all the way to Peru to meet someone who’s eventually going to have to come to England anyway?’ he demanded. ‘Making friends with her! Why do you want to make friends with her? I thought you weren’t interested.’

      Domine helped herself to a cup of tea from the tray Mrs Radcliffe had left on the low table on the hearth. It was a grey day outside, with a fine drizzle dampening the tiles around the fountain, but the drawing room was warm and comfortable, an open fire supplementing the heat convected from the radiators. Spooning sugar into her cup, she said: ‘I thought you would approve. After all, you were the one who wished you could get to know her.’

      ‘Me, yes. You, no.’ Mark was sullen. ‘Why did he ask you, that’s what I’d like to know? Why not me? After all, I’m the man of the family, now that Grandpa’s dead. Surely I’m the one he should have asked.’

      Domine sipped her tea reflectively. ‘I expect he thought Lisel would respond more easily to another woman,’ she shrugged. ‘Having lived with these nuns for years, she probably doesn’t know many men.’

      ‘Huh!’ Mark paced aggressively about the room. ‘All the same, I am her cousin.’

      Domine shrugged, deciding it would not be politic at this time to point out that she was, too, and eventually Mark got around to asking her when she planned to leave.

      ‘I’m not sure,’ she admitted doubtfully. ‘But soon, I suppose. I called at the library on my way home, and apparently it’s summer in Lima at the moment. Summer is the best time to visit. Though where Lisel lives, the temperatures don’t vary too much from winter to summer. They have a rainy season——’

      ‘Save it!’ interposed Mark impatiently, his lower lip jutting angrily. ‘I don’t want a geographical run-down of the country. I only wanted to know whether you planned to travel back with Aguilar.’

      ‘No.’ Domine could be certain of this anyway. ‘Mr Holland told me he plans to leave the day after tomorrow. I couldn’t possibly be ready in that time.’

      ‘Holland? Oh, yes …’ Mark nodded. ‘You went to see him. What did he have to say?’

      Domine put down her cup, choosing her next words with care. ‘Well,’ she began slowly, ‘he suggested that we ought to think carefully before selling Griffons.’

      ‘Oh, did he?’

      ‘Yes.’ Domine hesitated. ‘He also suggested that we might consider—offering Lisel a home here, until—until she finds her feet.’

      Mark scowled, but she could see the agile brain working. ‘Offer Lisel a home here,’ he echoed broodingly. ‘While we do—what?’

      ‘You know Mr Villiers would give you a job,’ Domine ventured cautiously, but Mark vetoed that suggestion straight away.

      ‘What? Me work for old Villiers! You’ve got to be joking!’

      ‘Why?’ Domine stuck to her guns. ‘Despite Grandpa’s opinion of you, you do know quite a lot about the business. If you went to work for Mr Villiers, you would eventually get his job. And in a few years——’

      ‘Oh, yes.’ Mark’s tone was ironic. ‘In a few years, I might work myself into the position I occupy now!’

      ‘No.’ Domine pursed her lips. ‘Mark, you don’t have any position now, and you know it.’

      ‘Lisel doesn’t.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘You remember what I said last night? Lisel knows nothing about the mills. As you’ve just pointed out, I do. Why shouldn’t I become her managing director? Boss in everything but name.’

      ‘The board would never agree.’

      Mark’s scowl returned. ‘Why not? They won’t be able to stop me, if I have Lisel’s backing.’

      Domine shook her head. ‘You’re completely unscrupulous, aren’t you?’

      Mark shrugged. ‘Just practical, that’s all. Exactly what you asked me to be.’

      Domine made a frustrated gesture. ‘Aren’t you forgetting Señor Aguilar. We still don’t know what his interest is. What if he plans to come back to England with Lisel? To help her——’

      Mark’s balled fist smote the palm of his hand. ‘You don’t really believe that, any more than I do. In any case, it’s up to you now, to persuade Lisel that she doesn’t need any outside help. That her—long-lost family are more than willing to do everything they can to make things easy for her.’

      ‘Me?’ exclaimed Domine in dismay. ‘Up to me? Oh, no, Mark. You can’t expect me to persuade her to put her trust in you. Besides, I don’t suppose she’d believe me. She knows Grandpa left the business to her because he didn’t trust you. She’s not a fool, you know, only shy.’

      Mark snorted. ‘I doubt whether the subleties of the situation have even occurred to her,’ he retorted. ‘And your friend Aguilar doesn’t seem the type to spread that kind of rumour.’

      ‘He’s not my friend,’ said Domine crossly, munching a ginger biscuit with more vehemence than enjoyment.

      ‘Isn’t he?’ Mark was guessing again. ‘It was you he invited to lunch, not me.’

      ‘He invited us both for dinner,’ Domine countered shortly, remembering her intention of wearing the black satin cat-suit. That could wait, however, she decided sensibly. She would take it with her to Peru, though. There might be another occasion.

      They drove to the hotel that evening in Mark’s Mercedes. His enthusiasm

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