the worst. A very independent lady was how he described you…’
A very independent lady. She had been once and had prided herself on it. Now she wasn’t so sure, and neither, she knew, was Tom. But, bless him, like the good friend he was, he would have taken care not to betray her vulnerabilities to anyone else.
‘What time is the doctor due?’ she asked quietly. She had imposed on this man for long enough. The intimacies that had passed between them while she was incapable of looking after herself were something she had to accept, and yet now, confronted with the reality of a man who before had simply been a shadowy, unfamiliar figure, a gentle, capable pair of hands that seemed to know instinctively how to help and soothe, a calm, understanding voice, she was beginning to feel acutely self-conscious and vulnerable.
The look he gave her seemed to slice right through her defences and fasten on all that she was feeling. He had coldly clear pale blue eyes that in some lights looked almost grey; dangerously seeing eyes, she recognised uncomfortably, that went well with what she was beginning to suspect was an equally perceptive mind.
She wondered obliquely what he did for a living. There was no obvious industry in this part of the world; it was an idyllic spot for holiday-makers, for those in search of solitude and peace, but for those who lived locally…And what kind of work allowed a man to take days off without any notice, to nurse a complete stranger? Did he in fact work at all, or was he perhaps one of that breed of people she had occasionally read about and puzzled over but never met: a genuine drop-out from society?
She eyed him covertly, registering the wellworn jeans, the slightly too thin frame. If he didn’t work how did he manage to pay the rent on this place? How did he feed and clothe himself?
‘I can hear a car outside,’ he told her. ‘It will probably be the doctor now. I’d better go down and let him in.’
His hearing was as acute as his perception, Angelica recognised as she too heard the approaching sound of a car engine.
The doctor, when he came into the bedroom, proved to be a middle-aged man with a soft Welsh accent and tired eyes. WhenAngelica apologised for causing him so much trouble, he shook his head and told her, ‘There’s nothing worse than a nasty bout of food poisoning. You were lucky that Daniel was here when you collapsed.’
‘Very lucky,’Angelica agreed hollowly, shivering a little as she remembered her physical agony and distress when she first became ill. So his name was Daniel. Foolish of her not to have asked him herself.
‘Your friend gave us the name of your London doctor.’ The shrewd, tired eyes studied her. ‘Come down here for a bit of a rest, have you?’
Angelica pulled a face. ‘He says I’m suffering from stress. When Tom offered me the use of his cottage…’
‘Stress, is it? Well, then, you’ll be needing a bit of peace and quiet.’
‘Yes,’Angelica agreed. ‘I feel I ought to move into Tom’s cottage and let Mr—er—Daniel get on with his own life.’
For some reason she could feel her face growing hot as she spoke, as much because of the thoughtful way the doctor was studying her as because of her discomfort at not even knowing her rescuer’s name.
‘I feel very guilty about the way I’ve been taking up his time,’ she added awkwardly. ‘I did think that perhaps a nurse—’
‘There’s not much Daniel doesn’t know about what it’s like to be ill,’ she was told calmly. ‘And as for taking up his time, well, I dare say if he hadn’t wanted to help you he’d soon have made some other arrangements, although out here people do tend to take it for granted that neighbours will help one another out.’
The doctor was standing up, his examination finished. ‘You’ll be feeling very weak for a few days yet,’ he warned her.
‘But I can get up,’Angelica pressed. She had already made up her mind that she simply could not impose on her host any longer. And besides, now that she was properly conscious, properly aware, well, she felt both uncomfortable and guilty about the way she had been so dependent on Daniel. Dependency wasn’t something she was used to, and since the débâcle of her relationship with Giles she had striven very hard to regain her former self-reliance. It had become very important to her that she was independent of other people, that she was able to function completely on her resources. She was never, ever again going to allow herself to suffer the kind of emotional trauma and pain she had suffered with Giles.
‘Yes, you can get up,’ the doctor agreed, frowning thoughtfully at her, ‘but I must warn you against trying to do too much too soon. You could very easily have a relapse. Salmonella is never something to be treated lightly and when it’s as severe as this bout you’ve just had…’ His frown deepened, and Angelica had the feeling that he was about to say something else, but obviously he must have changed his mind because after a few seconds’ pause he smiled at her and said kindly, ‘This isn’t London, you know. Here we take our responsibility to our small communities and to each other very seriously indeed. You mustn’t feel guilty about needing Daniel’s help. Just think of it as a good deed you’ve been “loaned”, and which one day you’ll have the opportunity to pass on to someone else.’
He gave her another smile, closed his bag and headed for the door before she could say anything else.
Angelica heard Daniel talking to him when he went downstairs, and sensitively wondered if it was her they were discussing. It was stupid to feel so vulnerable, so defensive, she chided herself.
Surely she was mature enough, sensible enough to realise that all men weren’t like Giles—that she had been unlucky and perhaps a little foolish, but that the pain she had suffered was no reason to turn her back on the entire male sex, mistrustful and afraid of every single one of its members.
Maybe not, but it would be folly to allow herself to fall in love again, to—
Fall in love? She frowned heavily. Who on earth was talking about falling in love, for heaven’s sake? What possible link could there be between her relationship with Giles and the very, very different relationship which circumstances had forced on her with Daniel?
Daniel. She tasted the name, testing it cautiously, acknowledging that in some way it suited him. It was a powerful name, a little awesome in some ways. Like the man himself? Did she find him powerful and just a little intimidating? Just a little bit too much the dominant male animal, supremely confident of himself, in a way she knew she could never be?
Was it an inbuilt flaw of her sex that it was so constantly vulnerable, so constantly aware of its failings and insecurities? Wasn’t it because of her own awareness of her personal, deep-rooted insecurities, her fear that her life was starting to revolve too completely around her work that she had been so dangerously open to Giles’s deliberate manipulation? Had she had a stronger, tougher, more male-based personality, she would have been too self-sufficient, too sure of herself and confident to fall for Giles’s rather obvious and facile charm.
Was she never going to stop feeling guilty for being such a fool, for not realising far sooner than she had just what Giles was? It still galled her to realise that, in the eyes of others, she must have seemed both stupid and laughable; a mature woman, so desperately craving love and reassurance that she had not been able to see the truth.
She was never going to allow herself to be deceived like that again. From now on her relationships with men were going to be strictly non-emotional, strictly held at a safe distance from her too vulnerable heart.
