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‘Will you wait here, miss?’ the woman asked, and Catriona nodded speechlessly. She had never seen such a room. The walls were covered in a heavy cream paper and this colour was repeated in the thick fitted carpet. The floor-length curtains and luxurious suite were in a matching fabric which combined shades of sapphire and jade, and Catriona, who had always been told by Aunt Jessie, ‘Blue and green should never be seen,’ gasped at the effect this produced. The few other pieces of furniture—some occasional tables and a rosewood cabinet—were obviously antique and a cream marble mantelpiece bore a collection of exquisite Chinese porcelain dogs.
Catriona began to feel bewildered. What had Jeremy to do with all this luxury? She had never thought that he might be rich, but what other explanation was there for a life-style which was beyond anything she could have imagined? The shabby chintzes of Muir House had never seemed so far away.
Desperately she stared around. Oh, why had she come? What a fool she had been! There was no place for her here. The contrast between her own near-pennilessness and her present surroundings was a humiliation. And worst of all, one of her shoes had left a dirty mark on the carpet.
Tears sprang to her eyes, and she hurried towards the door, but almost simultaneously it was flung open, and Catriona halted with a gasp.
Regarding her was a tall man. He was wearing a dark silk dressing gown, and a towel was flung carelessly over one shoulder. His feet and legs were bare and one lock of damp-looking black hair hung down across his forehead. He put up a hand and brushed it impatiently away from the coldest grey eyes that Catriona had ever seen.
‘Who are you?’ she asked shakily. It was too much! The long journey, the lack of sleep, the first disappointment, and now this utter stranger looking her over as if she were an unprepossessing remnant on a bargain counter.
‘That's rich, coming from you,’ he commented, in a voice that matched his eyes. ‘According to you, Miss—er—Muir, I'm expecting you.'
Catriona fought back the tears that were threatening to overwhelm her completely.
‘Not you—Jeremy,’ she said dolefully.
‘Jeremy?’ He gave her a long look, then closed the door behind him. ‘I suppose I should have known. And what brings you here?'
Catriona stared at him helplessly. ‘Doesn't—doesn't he live here?'
‘No, by God, he doesn't,’ was the forcible reply. ‘What gave you that idea? Did he? I'll break his damned neck if …'
‘No—oh, no. It was his landlady—his ex-landlady, that is. She said he'd left this as a forwarding address. And when I saw his name on the card at the door, I assumed …’ Her voice tailed away uncomfortably as he looked her over with a certain grimness.
‘Not his name, young woman. Mine. And this is my flat, and down the hall is my bedroom where I now propose to return now that this little misunderstanding has been cleared up. I did agree that Jeremy could have his mail sent on here for a short time, but that was over long ago.’ He opened the door and held it, waiting for her to pass through. ‘So if you'd be good enough to collect that weird clutter in the corner of the hall, we can go our separate ways.'
In spite of her distress, Catriona's temper began to rise. She had never been treated so summarily in her life before. Aunt Jessie wouldn't have behaved to a stray dog like this man was treating her, she thought furiously. Her first reaction was to do as he requested and stalk out of his house and his life without a backward glance. And yet he could obviously help her to find Jeremy, which at the moment seemed more important than salvaging her pride.
‘I'm sorry to have intruded,’ she began awkwardly. ‘If you would just give me Jeremy's present address, I'll be happy to leave you in peace.'
‘Out of the question,’ he said abruptly. ‘Good morning.'
‘What do you mean?’ Catriona faced him, openly indignant. ‘Are you saying you won't tell me where he is?'
‘Very perceptive,’ he said smoothly, and Catriona longed to slap him hard across that dark sneering face. ‘Now, on your way, my little orphan of the storm.'
‘I'm not——’ Catriona began to deny hotly, when it struck her with the suddenness of a blow that he was quite right. She was an orphan now. She looked at him mutely, unable to restrain her tears any longer.
‘Oh, for God's sake,’ he said bitingly. ‘Do you think I haven't had that trick tried on me a hundred times? Only it's never worked in the past, and it's sure as hell not working now, darling.'
‘I'm not your darling!’ Catriona rubbed her eyes vigorously with a scrap of handkerchief she had found in her coat pocket. ‘I think you're despicable!'
‘No doubt you do. But just remember, you got yourself in here under false pretences, so don't start complaining when the going gets tough.’ He gestured her towards the door.
‘It wasn't false pretences,’ Catriona protested. ‘I asked for Mr Lord. I thought it would be Jeremy.'
‘And instead it was me.’ He pushed his hair back from his forehead again, almost wearily. ‘A nasty shock for you, no doubt, and my advice to you is to go back where you came from as quickly as possible and get over it.'
‘I can't go back,’ Catriona said quietly. ‘What's more, I came here to find Jeremy and I won't leave until I've seen him. And he'll not be very pleased when I tell him how you've treated me,’ she added, a little vindictively.
But far from being perturbed, he merely smiled faintly.
‘I don't think I have much to fear from that quarter,’ he said. ‘Tell me, why do you want to see him so urgently?'
‘That's my business.’ Catriona tilted her chin defiantly.
‘On the contrary, you've also made it mine. Besides, his mother has been on at me for years to take a proper avuncular interest in the boy. Oh, I forgot,’ he added satirically, as Catriona's eyes flew startled to his face. ‘I didn't introduce myself, did I. I'm Jason Lord, Jeremy's uncle.'
‘I didn't know Jeremy had an uncle,’ Catriona said numbly.
‘Well, he didn't tell me about you either, so we're quits. Well, Miss Muir, I'm waiting.'
Catriona thrust her hands into the pockets of her coat to hide the fact that they were shaking. She met Jason Lord's scornful grey eyes with a flash of her green ones.
‘In that case he probably hasn't told you either that we're in love and going to be married,’ she said.
He had been lounging rather negligently against the door, but at that he stiffened instantly. His eyes went over her again, not with the same contempt as before, but assessing her, almost stripping her, while the colour rose in her cheeks.
‘You're going to marry Jeremy,’ he said slowly. ‘What in hell's name gives you that idea?'
‘He did. Last summer.'
‘Which was a long time ago.’ He looked at her wryly. ‘And where was this—er—troth plighted, may I ask?'
‘At Torvaig.’ He still looked blank, so she explained, ‘It's a little village on the west coast of Scotland. It's not very well known, but Jeremy found it while he was touring, and he stayed on.'
‘I'll bet he did!’ There was an almost savage note in the muttered words.
‘Now will you let me see him?’ she begged.
‘No.’ He spoke almost reflectively. ‘In fact I think it's even more imperative that you use the other half of your return ticket and take yourself back to Torvaig and forget you ever knew Jeremy.'
‘I'll do nothing of the sort!’ she raged. ‘I have a right to see him. I've come to London and I'm staying no matter what you say.'
‘Look,’ he came to stand in front of her and gripped her arms tightly, his eyes bleak as a winter's day, ‘I'm telling you for your own good. Forget him and go home. Can't you take my word for it that it's the best thing to do?'
‘I wouldn't take your word for what day of the week it was,’ Catriona said angrily, and his hands fell away from her so quickly that she swayed a little, feeling oddly dizzy.
‘What's the matter?’ he asked.
‘I—I'm sorry. It's so warm in here.'
‘Not that warm. Have you had anything to eat?'
‘I had a few sandwiches on the train.’ How long ago that seemed, she thought tiredly.
‘That must have been a great comfort,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Well, you'd better take that appalling coat off and come with me.'
‘To see Jeremy?’ she asked hopefully.
‘No,’ he said witheringly. ‘To have some breakfast before you pass out on me. I want you leaving here on your own two legs, not carried out on a stretcher.'
Catriona was just about to fling his insulting offer back in his face when it occurred to her how hungry she really was and how much better she would be able to continue the battle if she was fed. So more meekly than she felt, she allowed herself to be shepherded through the hall to the rear of the house and a large shiny kitchen.
It was a poem in gleaming ceramic tiles and stainless steel with gadgets Catriona had only ever seen before in magazine pictures. Remembering the old-fashioned sink and scrubbed wooden draining board back at Muir House, she felt a stab of envy. It seemed so unfair that Auntie Jessie had had to struggle with her work, while this unpleasant man had been living in the lap of luxury with hardly the need to lift a finger for himself.
‘Mrs Birch!’ he called, and the woman who had admitted Catriona came bustling in.
‘Can you organise some breakfast for this starving morsel?’ He indicated Catriona with a casual wave of his hand and she went hot with fury. ‘Bacon and at least two eggs, I think. Oh, and porridge of course. She's from Scotland.'
‘Porridge, sir?’ Mrs Birch gaped at him. ‘Well, I don't know if …'
‘No,’ Catriona interrupted hastily. ‘I don't eat porridge.'
‘Heresy,’ Jason Lord said solemnly, but he was laughing at her, she knew. ‘Well, grapefruit, then, and lots of coffee, Mrs B., and I'll have some as well.’ He turned to Catriona. ‘You'll be quite safe with Mrs Birch. I'm going to finish shaving and get dressed.'
Before Catriona could reply, he vanished.
Mrs Birch was setting out plates and cups and Catriona could already smell the bacon sizzling in the pan.
‘Is there anything I can do?’ she asked shyly.
‘I can manage.’ Mrs Birch gave her a quick glance. ‘I should sit down before you fall down, lovey. You're as white as a sheet.'
Catriona complied shakily. ‘I—I've had rather a shock.'
‘Well, I wondered, though it's not for me to say. I could have told you he doesn't like seeing people so early in the morning. And when I saw that guitar I said to myself, Elsie, I said, she hasn't got a prayer, poor little soul.'
‘My guitar?’ Catriona echoed bewilderedly.
‘He doesn't do musical acts, lovey. It's all current affairs and documentaries. I thought you'd have known that.'
And as Catriona continued to stare at her in amazement, she tutted impatiently.
‘Well, you do know who he is, don't you?'
‘All I know is that he's Jeremy's uncle,’ Catriona admitted.
‘Lord above!’ Mrs Birch cracked the first of the eggs into the pan. ‘He's a TV producer, dear. He does Here and Now on a Monday, apart from anything else. And his documentary on alcoholics last year got an award.'
‘I'm afraid I've never seen much television,’ Catriona said quietly. ‘We didn't have a set at home.'
Mrs Birch was obviously as staggered by this as if Catriona had suddenly grown a second head.
‘Well, there's a thing,’ she said at last. ‘And there was me thinking you were pestering him for a job.'
Catriona coloured. ‘Oh, it's nothing like that,’ she said.
‘I'm pleased to hear it.’ Mrs Birch set half a grapefruit frosted with sugar in front of Catriona and lowered her voice confidentially. ‘You see, dear, the better known he's become, the worse it's got. A lot of girls just think he's the key to fame and fortune and heaven knows what. He knows so many people in television, you see, and one word from him can do all sorts. I'm glad you're not one of them.’ She beamed approvingly at Catriona, then turned back to the cooker. ‘Now you get started, because this is nearly ready.'
Catriona had almost finished her eggs and bacon by the time Jason Lord returned. In a silk-textured dark suit he looked even more forbidding, she thought, and had to fight an urge to flinch as he slid on to the stool next to hers at the breakfast bar.
‘That's better,’ he remarked coolly. ‘You're beginning to look more like a human being.'
Mrs Birch put two steaming cups of coffee down on the bar and hurried out of the kitchen to her other chores.
‘You've placed me under an obligation to you——'
Catriona began stiffly, but he interrupted.
‘Then repay it—please—by going home.'
‘I have no home.'
‘You just thought you'd move in with my nephew.’ His tone was glacial again.
‘No,’ she answered wretchedly. ‘I've told you—we're going to be married.'
He glanced meaningly at her ringless hands. ‘You're officially engaged?'
She hesitated miserably, unwilling to share even part of her precious secret with this man. Then, very slowly, she undid the top two buttons on her white shirt blouse and pulled out the silver chain she wore round her neck. There were two metal objects hanging on it—a small key and a silver ring set with a cairngorm. A cheap enough trinket, but Jeremy had bought it for her one day in Fort William.
‘Until I can afford a proper one,’ he had whispered as he put it on her finger and kissed her. She had thought she would die of happiness, and some of that remembered joy lingered in her face as she extended the ring to Jason Lord in the soft curve of her palm.
There was a long silence. Then, ‘I see,’ he said in a voice devoid of any emotion. She looked at him, puzzled, but his eyes were veiled as he looked down at the thin trail of smoke from the cigarette held lightly between his fingers.
‘You will let me see him, won't you?’ Her voice was pleading.
‘Yes.’ He stubbed the cigarette out with sudden violence. ‘Yes, Miss Muir, you win. I'll take you to him this evening.'
‘Not till this evening?’ She couldn't believe her victory, but at the same time this apparently unnecessary delay jarred on her. ‘Why not now?'
‘Because he's away. He'll be back this evening—his mother's giving a party. I didn't intend to go, but now I will and I'll take you with me.'
‘But I couldn't let you do that,’ Catriona said at once. It was not at all how she had planned to see Jeremy again, at a party against a background where she would be an interloper. ‘I'd be a gatecrasher. And besides, I haven't anything to wear.'
‘The eternal cry of woman, but in your case it could just be true,’ he said, his eyes flicking over her dismissively. ‘And you won't be a gatecrasher. You'll go as my guest. Marion always expects me to bring a girl-friend to her parties.'
Catriona felt a quick surge of revulsion at the idea of being taken for his girl-friend.
‘I'm sure there are other people you'd rather take,’ she said awkwardly.
‘Dozens,’ he retorted. Suddenly he leaned forward and his long fingers brushed the small curve of her breast. Startled, she pulled away, feeling oddly as if she had been scorched by a sudden flame.
‘Don't be a fool,’ he said. ‘Give me credit for a little more subtlety in my approach than that. I'm just curious to know what this is.'
It was the key that shared the chain with the ring.
