stronger?’ she asked perceptively. ‘I guessed you’d be coming to see Rosa before too long.’
‘Something stronger,’ said Rhys, gesturing towards the refrigerator. ‘Have you got a beer or some lager? I seem to remember you kept quite a store in the old days.’
Rosa chuckled. ‘Got some in, ‘specially for you comin’,’ she declared, padding over to the fridge and fetching him an iced can. ‘Sit down. Make yourself at home. We got a lot of years to make up.’
Rhys hesitated a moment and then he wedged his hip on a corner of the scrubbed table. Pulling the ring on the can, he watched the beer ooze out in a cluster of fizzy bubbles before saying quietly: ‘What did Tomas mean about Jordan Lucas?’
‘Missy Jordan?’ Rosalie tried to sound offhand and failed. ‘What he tell you ’bout her?’
Rhys sighed, hazarding a guess that Rosalie had heard exactly what her husband said. But, deciding to play it their way, he explained patiently: ‘About the house. About Miss Jordan making sure things stayed the way they should be. Are you telling me Jordan Lucas has visited here while I’ve been away?’
Involuntarily his voice had quickened, hardened, and Rosalie responded to it, spreading her hands wide as she endeavoured to justify the situation. ‘She was just tryin’ to be neighbourly,’ she exclaimed. ‘After all, this used to be her daddy’s home when he was a little boy.’
‘I know that.’ Rhys’s voice brooked no compromise. ‘I bought it from Robert Lucas, remember? But it’s mine now. It’s not the Lucas house any more. And I don’t know by what right you thought she had leave to come here in my absence!’
Rosalie wrung her hands now, her dark eyes rolling expressively. ‘You have been away ten years, Mr Williams——’
‘Is that supposed to be an excuse?’
‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’ The housekeeper was getting more and more agitated. ‘I didn’t know I was doin’ wrong. You and she were always so close, up until—up until——’
‘Up until about three weeks before I left,’ Rhys finished for her grimly. ‘My God, I only kept the house open because of you!’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And this is what happens!’ He took a savage drink from the can. ‘If I’d known Jordan Lucas was likely to come anywhere near this place, I’d have closed the house up, boarded the windows, locked the gates, and to hell with the sense of it!’
‘Yes, sir.’ Rosalie’s bright good humour had been quenched. ‘I understand.’
‘Do you? Do you?’ Rhys got up from the table and strode aggressively round the kitchen. ‘I wonder.’
Rosalie shook her head. ‘I didn’t think you’d mind. And after her daddy died, and all——’
‘Robert Lucas is dead?’ Rhys swung round to face her.
‘More’n six years ago,’ nodded Rosalie quickly. ‘He wasn’t a well man, you know, and what with the accident and——’
‘What accident?’ Rhys’s eyes narrowed. ‘Jordan didn’t have an accident, did she?’
‘No, no.’ Rosalie licked her thick lips. ‘It was Mr Lucas. He almost drowned. Never did get over it.’
‘What happened?’ Rhys came back to the table and then, seeing the way Rosalie flinched away from him, he sighed. ‘Please—I want to know what happened. Was it a sailing accident?’
‘It was.’ Rosalie folded her plump hands together. ‘That boat of his capsized. He was in the water for hours. When they got him out he was pretty sick.’
Rhys absorbed this with brooding concentration. ‘And—he died, afterwards.’
‘Not then, no.’ Rosalie made a negative gesture. ‘The accident happened soon after you went away.’
‘I see.’ Rhys finished his beer and crushed the can in his fist. ‘So has the hotel been sold?’
‘No. Missy Jordan took over. She’d been helping her father for years, and it was natural that she should want to carry on.’
Rhys nodded. ‘And—when did she start coming here?’
Rosalie hesitated. ‘Missy Jordan’s always come here. She loves this house. When you went away, she said to me, “Rosa,” she said, “I want you to care for the house, just as if Mr Williams still lived here.” And I have.’
Rhys expelled his breath heavily. ‘Are you sure she didn’t say, just as if Mr Lucas still lived here?’ he inquired harshly. ‘Oh, what the hell! It’s done now.’ He paused. ‘And I am grateful to you and Tomas for looking after things so well.’
‘Are you?’ Rosalie sniffed. ‘Seems like you don’t care about us at all, only the house.’
Rhys shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’ He ran restless fingers through the thick straight hair that sprung darkly from his scalp. ‘But you have to understand my feelings, too. I don’t like the idea of Jordan Lucas coming here. I don’t want her on my property. I admit—once she was welcome here, but now she’s not. And you can tell her that the next time you see her.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Rosalie’s response was polite, but unfriendly, and Rhys cursed Jordan anew for creating this unwanted hostility between himself and the housekeeper. It was natural that Rosalie should side with Jordan. She had worked for Jordan’s grandfather before coming to work for him, and years ago he had been grateful to Jordan for providing him with such excellent staff. But that was all over now. The past was something he wanted to erase. And because of Jordan, he was being forced to face it far sooner than he had intended.
‘HE’S back!’
Jordan was in the linen room counting pillowcases when Karen came to find her, and although she had been expecting it, her sister’s words still brought out a wave of goosebumps over her skin.
‘Who?’ she asked, as if there could be any doubt, and Karen gazed at her disbelievingly.
‘You know who!’ she accused after a moment, propping herself against the door frame. ‘The great man, of course. He arrived yesterday afternoon. With his daughter.’
Jordan felt the muscles of her stomach tense, and to disguise her emotions from Karen, she moved out of the shaft of sunlight cast through the door. Thank goodness she had an occupation, she thought sickly, as her heart palpitated wildly. It was worse, much worse, than she had imagined, and the fact that he had brought the child with him showed how insensitive he was.
‘Well? Don’t you have anything to say?’ Karen was growing impatient, and she regarded her elder sister suspiciously. ‘Did you know already?’ she demanded suddenly. ‘Did you know it was yesterday he was due? Or did your spies at the house let you know that your pop singer was here?’
‘He’s
