Outsider. Sara Craven

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makes you tick. And why I’m so clearly not the flavour of the month.’

      Natalie looked past him, remembering Grantham’s strictures, and measuring her words accordingly.

      She said abruptly, ‘You were—a shock. I had no idea Grantham was planning to take on an outsider as a partner.’

      ‘Then what did you think he’d do? Carry on as if nothing had happened? As if that attack had been a figment of his imagination?’

      The note in his voice stung her, and she flushed. ‘No, of course not. But there was an alternative.’

      ‘What was that?’ he asked. ‘As a matter of academic interest, of course.’

      She said baldly, and ungrammatically, ‘There was me.’

      There was a long silence. Then Eliot said, ‘Everything suddenly becomes much clearer. Well, well. So you see yourself as a trainer of champion ‘chasers, do you, Mrs Drummond?’

      ‘Yes, I do. For years I’ve been begging my father to give me a chance—ever since I left school. When he was ill, I thought it was an opportunity to show him that I wasn’t—a useless female, but prove I could run things here.’

      ‘I see.’ He gave her a meditative look. ‘I’m glad to hear natural concern for his well-being wasn’t allowed to stand in the way of your ambition.’

      Her voice shook. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me. Of course I was worried—worried sick. But it wouldn’t have improved Grantham’s chances of recovery if I’d simply—sat back and let the yard go to pot.’

      He nodded. ‘And on the strength of that, you expected to be made a partner in equal standing with your father in these stables.’ He gave her a long look. ‘Lady, you’re living in a dream world. You should know, none better, just how many million pounds you have on the hoof in this place. Do you imagine, in the long run, the owners are going to entrust their treasures to the care of an inexperienced girl, however eager to learn? How old are you, by the way?’

      ‘I’m twenty-three,’ Natalie said stormily. ‘And you couldn’t be more wrong. When Dad was first taken ill, a number of the owners got edgy and started talking about removing their horses, and I talked them out of it. I persuaded them I knew what I was doing. So some people were prepared to have faith in me, even if you and Grantham want to—shut me out.’

      He said quietly, ‘Calm down, Mrs Drummond, and take a firm grip on yourself, because I’m afraid I’m going to have to shatter another illusion. No amount of sweettalking from you kept those horses here. Grantham gave me a list of those most likely to waver, and I made it my business to ring them, and tell them what was in the wind. That was what convinced them, darling. Not your well-meaning intervention.’

      She tried to speak, to say something, but no words would come. At last she said hoarsely, ‘I don’t believe you.’

      He shrugged. ‘As you wish, but Grantham will confirm what I say.’

      There was a pause, then he added more gently, ‘But there’s no question of wanting to shut you out, on my part at least. Now, shall we take a look at the flat?’

      Natalie felt humiliated to her very soul as she walked in front of him. If her attitude to Eliot had wounded his delicate male pride, then he’d had his revenge in full, she thought wretchedly. At the time, she had thought it was next to a miracle when one owner after another had phoned her back to say that perhaps they’d been hasty …

      The flat entrance lay round to the side of the big garage block. Natalie unlocked the front door and stood back. ‘I’ll wait here,’ she said.

      Eliot gave her a wry look, seemed as if he was about to speak, then thought better of it, and went up the internal staircase.

      Natalie knew an ignominious urge to run away and hide somewhere, while his back was turned. He’d robbed her of everything now, not just the partnership which she recognised would probably never have been hers anyway, but also of her pride in what she had considered her achievements while Grantham was ill.

      Oh, it had been cruel of him! Cruel, she thought, her teeth savaging the soft inner flesh of her lower lip. ‘Cruel to be kind’ was one of Grantham’s favourite maxims. Clearly Eliot Lang belonged to the same school of thought.

      He was gone a long time. She was thankful that everything had been removed, every stick of furniture, every ornament and keepsake. She would have loathed the idea of him touching her things, using her chairs and table—her bed.

      The thought struck her like a blow, her mind flinching from the images it presented, reviving memories she’d thought were dormant.

      Tony, she thought wretchedly. Oh God—Tony!

      Footsteps coming down the stairs gave sufficient warning for her to compose herself before Eliot rejoined her.

      He said flatly, ‘You don’t leave many clues. That place is totally—empty.’ He sent her a narrow-eyed stare. ‘Are you Tony Drummond’s widow?’

      ‘Yes, what of it?’

      He shrugged, still staring at her. ‘I should have made the connection before,’ he said, half to himself.

      ‘Are you—going to live there?’ She had to know.

      ‘Oh, yes, I think so,’ he said almost casually. ‘As I’m clearly not desecrating some private shrine. And it’s big enough to take some of the furniture I want to bring up from Lambourn.’

      ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Then everyone’s happy.’

      ‘A slight exaggeration, wouldn’t you say?’ he drawled. ‘Now I’d like to see the kind of accommodation the lads use. Is that possible?’

      ‘Of course,’ Natalie said ironically. ‘You’re the boss, after all.’

      Eliot Lang shot her a sideways glance, but made no reply.

      He was silent too as she showed him the block Grantham had built a few years before, with its big kitchen and recreation area on the ground floor, leading up to small, economically fitted single bedrooms upstairs.

      ‘Each room has a handbasin, but there’s a communal shower block at the end,’ Natalie told him, niggled that he wasn’t more openly impressed.

      ‘Just showers?’ he asked. ‘No bathrooms?’

      ‘Yes, there are two, leading off the shower room.’

      ‘Do they lock?’

      Natalie shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Is it important?’

      ‘I think privacy can be very important. The bedrooms all have locks, I see.’

      ‘Yes, and they can be opened from the outside by a master key in case someone’s taken ill.’ Natalie stared at him. ‘Why this obsession with locks and bolts?’

      ‘I’m thinking of offering someone a job,’ he said shortly. ‘So I want to make sure certain standards are observed.’

      ‘My God!’ she exclaimed

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