yet moral and Saira began to feel uplifted, until she turned to leave and saw Jarrett Brent a few rows behind her. Their eyes met, he smiled, briefly, perfunctorily, and then turned his attention to the girl at his side.
She was small, dark and fragile-looking, with a classic bone-structure—and she was wearing a hat! The only young woman to do so. It suited her without a doubt, she looked stylish and elegant, and Saira felt immature and gauche in her cotton dress and jacket, her hair in its usual plait.
So Jarrett did have a girlfriend after all! Was it serious? He had said he lived on his own for the moment. Perhaps they were planning to get married? The girl was gazing adoringly at him, it was obvious they had a very deep relationship.
Deliberately she hung back until he had gone. She wouldn’t have said that this girl was his type, she looked very fragile and meek, not as though she could stand up to a man like Jarrett Brent. Or was that the type he preferred? Did he like to boss his women around? And why was she wondering about it? What did it matter to her?
Mrs Edistone appeared at her side while she was still deep in thought. ‘Good morning, Saira. I see you got in, then?’
Saira nodded and smiled. She had seen the woman’s curtains twitch several times and knew that her comings and goings had been carefully monitored.
‘The squire gave you a key?’ asked the old lady, leaning on her stick, looking as though she was prepared to talk for a long time.
‘Yes,’ answered Saira.
‘I suppose he’s not a bad man,’ Mrs Edistone reflected thoughtfully, ‘always very pleasant if you meet him in the street, very pleasant indeed, very pleasant. How did he seem to you?’
‘Very pleasant,’ repeated Saira seriously, while inside she was dying to laugh. ‘Very pleasant’ were the last words she would use to describe Jarrett Brent. Very disagreeable, very uncooperative, very everything else, but ‘very pleasant’? Not on your life.
Saira had a ham sandwich and salad for her lunch and when two o’clock came and went and he had still not brought her the requested proof she decided to go up to the house again. She refused to sit around all day waiting.
As she walked up the long drive Saira wondered whether the pretty girl would be there? Or indeed whether her antagonist would be in? It was feasible that he had taken his girl out to lunch and they might not be back yet, perhaps this was why he had not come. But she had no doubt that Mrs Dour, as she had nicknamed his housekeeper, would put her in the picture; she would probably take great pleasure in turning her away.
To Saira’s amazement she felt her heart beating much faster than normal, and she took a few deep breaths to calm herself as she pushed the bell and waited. It was a long time before anyone came, she had rung again and was on the verge of leaving when the heavy oak door swung inwards and Jarrett Brent himself appeared. ‘Oh, it’s you,’ was his greeting, and he looked irritated at being disturbed.
‘Yes, it’s me,’ confirmed Saira loudly and aggressively. ‘I’ve been waiting for those papers. Have you found them yet?’
‘Actually, no.’ The annoying sardonic smile was in place, his true feelings well hidden.
Her eyes flashed. ‘I bet you haven’t even looked.’
‘I have been rather busy,’ he admitted.
And Saira knew who he was busy with right now. His shirt was unbuttoned, his hair tousled; he looked as though he had dressed in a hurry.
‘Let’s get one thing quite clear,’ she said fiercely, ‘I’m not moving off this doorstep until I get what I came for.’ She planted her feet firmly on the ground, stood tall, and looked him full in the eyes.
His lips quirked. ‘That could prove extremely uncomfortable, because I’ve just remembered that the papers in question might be in my office safe and not here. I’m afraid I can do nothing about it until tomorrow.’
‘Might be in your office safe?’ she questioned in disbelief, her voice rising as her temper increased. ‘You mean you’re not sure?’ It was unbelievable.
‘I’m as sure as I can reasonably be.’
‘I think you’re lying,’ she spat. In fact she was absolutely sure he was lying. ‘I think that for reasons known only to yourself you’re keeping me waiting. I think you’re devious and conniving and I cannot think what my aunt saw in you.’
He lifted his shoulders, still with that infuriating smile on his face, not at all perturbed by her outburst. ‘You’re at liberty to think what you like.’
Saira stamped her foot. ‘Lord, you’re impossible. This is a most intolerable situation.’
‘Actually I’m rather enjoying it.’ The smile turned to a grin.
‘You would,’ she returned sharply, hating the way he was so in control of himself while she was in danger of losing her composure altogether. ‘I’m the one who’s being messed around. If the papers are in your office safe, and I don’t believe for one second that they are, why couldn’t you have told me that in the beginning?’
‘Because it wouldn’t have been half so much fun,’ he admitted. ‘Are you always this fierce and fiery, this impatient?’
Saira could see nothing funny at all in the situation and she glared, her green eyes flashing like jewels. ‘Impatient? I’m not impatient, I’m just anxious to set the matter straight. You’re procrastinating deliberately and I demand that you go and find your deeds right now this very minute. Either that or tell me the truth—that you don’t own Honeysuckle Cottage.’
‘Why don’t you believe me, Saira?’ His own patience suddenly snapped, his mouth tightening, his eyes growing hard; but his voice was soft, and all the more menacing because of it. Saira felt the unspoken threat.
‘Give me a good reason why I should.’ She glared belligerently and drew herself up to her full height, which was still nowhere near tall enough to meet his eyes on the same level, especially with two steps between them. Saira fumed. She felt so impotent; he was playing with her like a cat with a mouse and she was unable to do anything about it.
‘My word is not usually doubted.’ He spoke the words easily but his arrogance showed through, incensing Saira even further.
‘I’m doubting it now,’ she flung savagely. ‘You’ve fobbed me off for long enough. I refuse to move until you go and find those deeds.’
‘Darling, who is it?’ A gentle voice came from behind Jarrett and as he turned Saira saw his female friend. The girl looked calm and self-assured and there was no sign that she and Jarrett had been making love a few minutes earlier. But Saira was not fooled; she had had plenty of time to tidy and compose herself.
‘Joy, come along and meet Miss Carlton.’ He brought the other girl forward into the doorway, and when he took her hand Saira felt a stab of impatience. Here he was, playing around with this girl when there were far more important matters at issue.
The dark-haired girl, who looked impossibly delicate, smiled and eyed Saira curiously.
‘Joy, this is Saira Carlton, Lizzie’s great-niece; you remember Lizzie, don’t you? And Saira, I’d like you to meet Joy
