He was annoyingly obtuse. ‘Why, some food and a good night’s sleep. In that order,’ he responded lazily, and Olivia’s lips came together in a compressed white line.
‘I mean—how long do you plan to stay in England? she exclaimed. ‘You said you’d been working in Tsaba. How long do you intend to remain here? Surely your partner will expect you back.’
‘My partner’s dead,’ he declared grimly, his eyes suddenly hard and uncompromising. ‘And I have no immediate plans to return there. As it happens, I was planning to come to England quite soon, and it was a comparatively mild inconvenience to bring my trip forward.’
‘You mean—you were coming to see your father?’
‘We’ll never know that now, will we?’ he remarked flatly.
Olivia lifted her shoulders. ‘I don’t know what to suggest,’ she was beginning stiffly, when a light tattoo on the panels of the door interrupted her and a moment later Mrs Winters appeared in the open doorway.
‘I’ve had Cook make you a nice light omelette——’ she started comfortingly, only to break off abruptly at the sight of the man standing squarely between herself and her mistress. Alex had turned his head at her entrance, so that Mrs Winters’ first sight of him was in profile, and her mouth dropped open. Olivia, tense herself, was nevertheless aware of a certain tension about him as he confronted the housekeeper, and she realised with a pang, that he was apprehensive of her reaction. And why not? Olivia asked herself wryly. Mrs Winters had worked for his father for almost twenty years, and her loyalty might well not include a welcome for the son who had deserted Henry Gantry almost fifteen years ago.
Watching the housekeeper Olivia knew a sudden sympathy for her. This could not be easy, and the veined hands holding the tray shook a little as comprehension dawned. ‘Alex?’ she mouthed, almost inaudibly. ‘Master Alex, is that you?’
He moved then, taking the tray from her and setting it carelessly on one of the elegantly polished tables that flanked the armchair where he had been sitting. Then he smiled, and Olivia’s heart took an unaccountable jolt. ‘Don’t you recognise me, Mrs Winters?’ he demanded, his tone warm and teasing, and with a broken cry, the normally reserved Mrs Winters cast herself upon him.
‘Oh, Master Alex,’ she sobbed, clutching his shoulders, and gazing up into his face with unconcealed emotion. ‘Oh, if only you’d come a week sooner!’
‘I know, I know.’ Alex allowed the housekeeper to enfold him in a convulsive embrace, but over the housekeeper’s head, his eyes were mocking Olivia. Look, he seemed to be saying, you may have had it all your own way so far, but how do you feel about it now?
‘Master Alex—that is, I mean—Alex—has just arrived from Africa, Mrs Winters,’ she exclaimed, needing to exert her authority for no other reason than to reassure herself. ‘He—I—perhaps you could prepare a room for him. And—and something to eat.’
‘You’re staying?’ Without looking at Olivia, Mrs Winters addressed herself to Alex, and after exchanging another challenging look with Olivia, he nodded.
‘It appears so,’ he conceded, with infuriating coolness. ‘Liv—Olivia—insists that it would be foolish for me to stay anywhere else.’
Olivia’s gasp of indignation went unheard beneath the housekeeper’s eager confirmation. ‘Where else would you stay?’ she exclaimed, drawing away from him with evident reluctance, and squeezing one of his hands between both of hers. ‘If Mr Gantry was still alive——’
‘But he’s not,’ Alex interrupted her firmly. ‘It’s better not to probe too deeply into old wounds, Mrs Winters. Who knows what would have happened if—if my father had still been alive?’
The housekeeper shook her head. ‘He never forgave you, you know.’
‘I know that.’
‘I think he wanted to.’
‘Do you?’ Alex looked wry. ‘You’re very tactful, Mrs Winters.’
She sighed, gazing up at him with hungry eyes, almost as if she was afraid he might suddenly disappear again without notice. ‘And you’re much too thin,’ she exclaimed, through trembling lips. ‘Where on earth have you been all these years? What have you been doing? If only you’d written!’
Alex heaved a deep breath. ‘Later, Mrs Winters,’ he assured her gently. ‘Right now, I could surely do with a bath and a change of clothes.’
‘Of course.’ Mrs Winters controlled herself and turned to Olivia now. ‘With your permission, Mrs Gantry, I’ll put Master Alex in his old room. It’s the one overlooking the stables, and I think he’d like——’
‘I know which room he used to occupy,’ Olivia interposed briefly, her eyes the only indication of her angry indignation, and Mrs Winters, too bemused by Alex’s reappearance to notice, smiled beneficently.
‘Of course you do,’ she beamed. Then she remembered the food cooling on its tray, and put an anxious hand to her throat. ‘Would you like me to tell Cook you’ll have a bit of dinner with Master Alex, instead of bothering with your omelette. I’m sure, now that you’ve got company——’
‘The omelette is just fine,’ replied Olivia crisply. ‘I suggest you inform Cook of our unexpected guest’s arrival, and she can prepare him a meal while he takes his bath. I—I shall be going straight to bed. I am rather—tired, after all.’
Mrs Winters’ eyes widened. ‘Oh, but——’ She cast a troubled look in Alex’s direction, and he, interpreting her anxiety, made an irritatingly complacent gesture.
‘Don’t worry,’ he told her cheerfully. ‘Olivia and I will have plenty of time to talk tomorrow. It’s natural that she’s feeling a little tired. Let’s face it, it’s been a long day, hasn’t it, Liv?’
Olivia moved her head from side to side in an oddly confused way. Perhaps she was tired. Perhaps she was dreaming all this. Perhaps none of it was really happening! But she knew that she wasn’t, and it was; and she was blankly aware of being outmanoeuvred at every turn.
Mrs Winters dragged her eyes away from Alex sufficiently long enough to give Olivia an encouraging smile. ‘Then I’ll go and attend to the arrangements,’ she said, in the tone that falls midway between a statement and a question. And at Olivia’s indifferent consent, she added: ‘What about your luggage, Master Alex? Is it being sent on or what?’
‘It’s outside, actually. In the car I hired,’ he declared casually, producing the keys.
‘Then would you like me to get Murdoch——’
‘Oh, no, that won’t be necessary.’ Alex pocketed the keys again. ‘I’ll get them myself.’ He glanced at Olivia for a moment, and then went on: ‘But perhaps you could arrange with the hire company to have the car collected tomorrow. I suppose while I’m here, you could lend me a car, couldn’t you, Olivia?’
Olivia made another gesture which could have been acquiescence, and Mrs Winters’s smile reappeared. ‘Very well, then, I’ll leave you for the moment.’ She shook her head. ‘Wait till Murdoch hears about this! He’ll never believe it.’
‘Oh, I’m
