‘Maybe he didn’t get your message,’ she suggested.
‘Or maybe he’s waiting for you to come running back to him like a devoted little puppy-dog,’ he countered. ‘Why don’t you open your eyes to him, Beth? He’s not going to come looking for you. He obviously doesn’t care a damn about you.’
Beth flinched.
‘He does care,’ she insisted doggedly. ‘And he will come. I’m sure he will.’
At that moment Benson appeared on the terrace with a discreet cough.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ he said. ‘There’s a Mr Warren Clark waiting for you in the den. He says he wants to speak to you both.’
Beth shot Daniel a triumphant look and felt a thrill of malicious pleasure at seeing him momentarily disconcerted.
‘All right, we’ll come and see what he wants,’ he said.
When they entered the den, Warren was standing with one elbow propped on the mantelpiece and his back to the door, but he turned at the sound of their footsteps. He was only of medium height, but his body was so gracefully proportioned that he seemed taller. He was extremely handsome in an almost effeminate way, with toffee-brown eyes and long silky brown hair that was cut in two layers so that a long curtain of it kept falling forward over his face. Privately Beth had never much liked the style, since it meant that Warren had to continually push his hair back from his forehead with a flicking movement of his head. He did so now. There was no mistaking the displeasure in his face.
‘What the hell are you doing here, Beth?’ he demanded without preamble.
Beth opened her mouth to speak, but found herself foiled by Daniel who immediately took control of the situation.
‘Sit down, Beth,’ he ordered with a hint of steel in his voice. And he turned to Warren, his dark eyes narrowed and his face unsmiling. ‘My name is Daniel Pryor. I guess you’ve come here to apologise for the accident yesterday.’
‘No, I haven’t!’ grated Warren indignantly. ‘You’re the one who rammed me. And let me tell you, you’re going to pay for it, pay dearly.’
‘Is that so?’ purred Daniel. ‘Well, it seems to me, Mr Clark, your manners are about as poor as your seamanship. I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but the law quite clearly states that a boat under power must always give way to a boat under sail. I was sailing into the harbour and it was your responsibility to give way to me. You were the one who caused the accident.’
Warren thrust out his chin aggressively.
‘Now just a damn minute—’ he began, stepping closer to Daniel.
Hastily Beth placed herself between them and laid one hand on the sleeve of Warren’s Paisley shirt.
‘He’s right, Warren,’ she said nervously. ‘That’s exactly what the policeman at the Yacht Club said. The accident was all our fault.’
Warren looked at her as if she had gone mad.
‘Don’t be such a fool, Beth,’ he exclaimed in a low, urgent voice. ‘You should never make an admission of liability like that.’
Beth’s eyebrows met in a bewildered frown.
‘Even when you’re in the wrong?’ she demanded.
‘Especially when you’re in the wrong,’ insisted Warren.
Daniel’s lips curled into a smile of sardonic amusement.
‘What a pity you didn’t go into law,’ he murmured. ‘I can see you would have been a great asset to the legal profession. But since you didn’t, I think we’ll leave our attorneys to argue the rights and wrongs of the case and decide on an appropriate settlement. I’ll give you my card.’
He crossed the room to a handsome mahogany desk and withdrew a square of white cardboard which he handed to Warren. Warren held it between his finger and thumb as if he were juggling a scorpion.
‘I get it,’ he sneered. ‘You think you’re going to sue me and make big bucks out of me, don’t you, Pryor? Well, you’re wrong, because I’ll hire the finest lawyer I can find. You might think you’re just dealing with some nobody of a student. But I’m more important than you realise. I’m—’
‘Oh, stop blustering, Warren!’ cried Beth in exasperation. ‘There’s no need for all this sabre-rattling. Accidents do happen and there’s no point being unpleasant about it.’
‘Don’t blame him,’ murmured Daniel provocatively. ‘He was probably born unpleasant.’
Warren’s face turned white with rage.
‘Why did you ever get involved with this arrogant bastard?’ he demanded, turning to Beth.
Beth shot Daniel an exasperated glance. At the moment she was tempted to wonder the same thing herself, but her innate honesty forced her to be fair.
‘He’s been very kind to me since our launch sank yesterday,’ she insisted.
‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean?’ asked Warren suspiciously.
‘Sit down and I’ll tell you,’ begged Beth. ‘You know how our clothing collection was lost when the launch sank? Well, Daniel has hired two dozen dressmakers to replace the entire collection in time for the show on Monday.’
Warren stared at her, open-mouthed.
‘That’s ridiculous!’ he protested. ‘It’s impossible.’
‘I know,’ agreed Beth. ‘That’s what I thought at first, too. But it’s happening, Warren. They’ve already finished seven or eight garments. Why don’t you come and see? Why don’t you stay here and help us? You’d be wonderful. You know what all the garments are supposed to look like and you could help me draft the patterns.’
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