Authors: Henrietta Reid
“I’d like to flatter myself that you thought me lovable,” he said banteringly. But Caroline thought she detected an underlying seriousness.
She was able to evade an answer as they were driving through the gates of Longmere, and as he caught his first glimpse of the house in the distance he gave a little whistle of appreciation. “Well, this is really something! I didn’t expect it to be quite so grand,” he admitted, gazing around admiringly at the wide parkland with the old gnarled trees. “Tell me, just what is your position in this handsome set-up?”
“Oh, I’m Mr. Craig’s personal assistant,” she told him proudly.
“Personal assistant? And just what does that entail?”
Caroline hesitated. She hadn’t been exactly honest in her answer, she knew: carried away by his obvious admiration, she had exaggerated her importance. “I organized the children’s party—things like that. ”
“I see.” He sounded a little doubtful.
“And there’s to be a dinner party tomorrow evening,” she hurried on. “And—well, I’m his social secretary, you might say.” She found herself becoming more confused as she seemed to become enmeshed in a net of half-truth. But she simply couldn’t let herself down before Dick—not now that she had seen the new look of admiration and respect on his handsome face! Anyway, it was true, she assured herself. She
had
helped in the arrangements for the dinner party, in spite of her invidious position at Longmere.
She was stunned, however, at Dick’s reaction to her pretensions, for he said with seriousness underlying his banter, “Do you know, Carrie, you and I would make quite a partnership if we got together; you, with your organizing ability, and—well, let’s face it, I’m pretty talented: I’ll go places once I get a proper break. ”
Caroline concentrated on swinging the car around the broad curving sweep which brought the house into full view, uncertain how to receive this extraordinary statement. “What on earth do you mean?” she asked, hoping she sounded sufficiently airy and woman-of- the-worldish.
“Just what I say! Take this, for instance! ” He nodded towards the house, spread out in all its magnificence against the backdrop of tawny, towering fells. “It’s pretty obvious your boss is a wealthy man; someone with influence. To you, this engagement may seem no more than a kids’ party, but to me—who knows, it may be the beginning of something. As I say, you and I would make quite a team. I mean, the time is bound to come when you’ll get the push from this place, although probably, at present, you don’t imagine that it’s possible.”
His words gave her an icy feeling of dismay. It was true, she hadn’t thought about getting “the push” as he so bluntly put it, but as he said, that day could easily arise; she would have to face that fact.
“There’s no need for you to go all girlish and coy, you know,” Dick pursued, “because you never made any secret that you were nuts about me. From your point of view, I think everything should be quite O.K.”
“And from your point of view?” Caroline inquired tightly.
“Oh, let’s put it this way. I won’t pretend you’re the only girl who has been crazy about me, but you’ve got everything I want in a woman: you’re pretty and a good organizer—just what I need.
You could take on the managing side of my career and leave me to concentrate on what I’m really good at—my work. Oh, I suppose all this sounds a bit coldblooded to you, but let’s face it, what most girls want out of life is marriage, and it’s time I was settling down.”
He seemed unaware that Caroline was making no response and as she stopped before the door, she saw to her relief that Fred was hurrying down the steps towards them. At least his presence would bring an end to the conversation.
All pleasure she might have found in Dick’s company had evaporated. Had he always been so egotistical, so certain that a girl would be only too willing and honoured to fall into his arms at the first sign of encouragement? How could she have invested this brash, self-opinionated man with an enchantment he had never possessed? Or was it simply that disenchantment was one of the processes of growing up? If so, it was a decidedly unpleasant experience!
Dick, unaware of her reactions, was rather grandly supervising the removal of his baggage by a disgruntled Fred. Piled high with luggage, Fred surveyed Caroline with an inimical eye as she got from behind the wheel. “Here, come and give me a hand with this stuff,” he ordered brusquely.
Caroline flushed as she saw Dick give a startled glance in her direction.
“Well, don’t just stand there like a statue,” Fred continued acidly. “If it’s not too much trouble would your ladyship kindly bring the rest of the stuff, while I take this load in.”
When he had lumbered off. Dick surveyed Caroline. puzzled and curious. “You’re surely not going to do what that impudent fellow suggested, are you? Why didn’t you put him in his place?” Caroline shrugged and attempted a laugh. “I may as well lend a hand,” she said lightly, “it will save any unpleasantness.”
Dick frowned. “But this is ridiculous! He’s behaving as if you’re employed here as some sort of lackey.”
“Oh, Fred’s bark is worse than his bite,” she remarked airily, as she reached into the boot and pulled out some small cases. “I don’t take any notice of what he says. It’s best to keep the peace with the staff, I find.”
“Well, I think it’s utterly nonsensical.” Dick intoned pompously, “and I’ll go in and give that fellow a piece of my mind.”
“Oh, don’t do that!” Caroline said anxiously, leading the way swiftly indoors, knowing well that she was in no position to defend herself should Fred return and continue in the same strain before Dick. “After all, it’s part of my job to be on good terms with the staff!”
But she could see as she led the way to the green dining-room that Dick was puzzled by, even resentful of, what he considered her weak knuckling under to an insolent servant.
The green dining-room was certainly very attractive, Caroline was thinking; the huge fireplace filled with blazing logs; the tree, under which the presents were piled, glittering iridescently in the light of the chandelier, on which someone, she noticed—possibly Betty—had hung a sprig of mistletoe.
Dick looked about with growing appreciation. The long oak table had been spread with every possible delicacy to entice the juvenile appetite; jellies, trifles, custards, sweets, cream cakes, lemonade, with plenty of crackers to make the party go.
“Well, I must say this looks like something,” Dick said with satisfaction. “All your own work, I presume?”
Caroline laughed. “Practically—except for the mistletoe!”
Immediately she saw his eyes glitter with mischief and before she could take defensive action he had whisked her into his arms and pulling her under the chandelier held her close in a long and anything but perfunctory kiss.
She struggled to free herself, but he held her tightly. “Don’t tell me you’re too prudish for a kiss under the mistletoe? What’s happened to the yuletide spirit?”
He seemed amused, even exhilarated by her reaction. Did he think, she wondered, that she was so vulnerable to his charms that his very nearness caused her to panic? Better he should imagine that, however, than that he should realize that her real fear was that she should be discovered in his arms by Randall or Grace, or even by one of the staff—because she had discovered that in some way or another everything that happened at Longmere eventually reached Randall’s ears.
The arrival of the children saved her from further undignified struggles. There was the sound of the children’s shrill voices in the hall and in a moment they were being hustled into the dining-room by Mrs. Creed and Fred. By then Caroline had regained her composure and was patting her hair into place before the antique mirror over the chimneypiece.
The housekeeper surveyed Dick without enthusiasm. “I suggest you set up your equipment at the end of the room while the children have their party,” she said coldly.
Had she noticed, Caroline wondered uncomfortably, the excited glitter in Dick’s eyes and her own flushed cheeks and, putting two and two together, assumed the worst? Was Mrs. Creed always to feel that at any moment she might come upon her
in flagrante delicto?
she wondered, as she remembered the housekeeper’s expression when she had seen her with Randall at that moment when he had touched his lips to hers at the top of the ladder.
Dick, completely unabashed by the housekeeper’s unconcealed antipathy, rubbed his hands enthusiastically. “Very well, I’ll set up my box of tricks while the kiddies guzzle. Let’s hope they won’t be too lethargic by the time they’ve consumed all these goodies to be an enthusiastic and appreciative audience!”
But this banter had no perceptible effect on the housekeeper. Silently she turned away, and from that moment the clamour rose as the children, excited and shrill, helped themselves, while Caroline moved around wiping sticky faces, filling glasses and generally trying to keep some semblance of order in the midst of chaos.
When Dick had everything arranged to his satisfaction at the far end of the big room, he came over to lend a hand and immediately Caroline noticed how good he was at soothing fractious children : he had the ability to catch their attention and their heads turned to him as if he had been the veritable Pied Piper.
After the meal he lost no time in assembling his youthful audience and immediately swung into his act with professional suavity. He opened with the stocking puppet, a little gnome-like creature which gave endearingly impertinent answers to Dick’s queries.
For a while the children were engrossed, shrieking with laughter at the antics of the puppet, but, watching them, Caroline saw restlessness set in. It was clear that their attention could not be claimed for long by any one form of entertainment, and Dick, with professional acumen, was on the point of donning a ludicrous hat and a ginger moustache before going into the next part of his act when Robin’s clear, shrill tones rang out: “Give me my present. I want to go home!”
Dick hesitated, his bonhomie slipping: it was clear that he was rattled by the coolly enunciated demand. However, he instantly recovered himself and with a mock-disconsolate face in Caroline’s direction, proceeded to attach the ginger moustache.
But Dick no longer held the children’s attention: the novelty of Robin’s demand clearly intrigued them, especially as they sensed that in some way it nonplussed the grown-ups. “Yes, give us our presents! ” they cried in unison, beating time with their feet on the floor.
Swiftly Dick picked up his accordion and played a few bars of a popular song. “Come on now, all together,” he called.
Some of the children made an attempt at the chorus, but again Robin’s voice rang out: “I don’t know the words of that silly old song. Give me my present! Mummy will be coming soon.”
“Mummy will be coming soon,” the children carolled in ecstasy, mimicking Robin’s high, fluting tones. “Mummy’s coming, Mummy’s coming, Mummy’s coming!” The great room resounded to their chants.
What shall we do?” Dick inquired sotto voce. “It looks as if I’ve lost my magic touch as far as this lot’s concerned.”
“Oh, let’s give them their presents,” Caroline said hastily.
“We may as well, I suppose. There’s not much prospect of my magnetic personality working on this mob. Who’s the kid, by the way?” He glanced in Robin’s direction. “He doesn’t seem to be hitting it off with the others. He seems to be bent on making his presence felt.”
“He’s Robin, my cousin’s child.”
“What peculiar relations you have!” he said lightly. “Had I known of the existence of this little menace I probably shouldn’t have asked you to marry me.”
“So that’s what you were doing!” Caroline replied, matching his lightness of tone.
“Why, what did you think I had in mind?” He lowered his voice.
Caroline shook her head, laughing. “This is no time or place to be discussing it. I’m afraid the party’s degenerating into a debacle. The sooner we give out the presents, the better, for I have the horrible feeling that Robin hasn’t really done his worst yet.”
All too soon her forebodings proved to be only too well justified because, while the rest of the children were content to wait for their gifts and were pleased with what they received, Robin tore open the pretty wrappings she had taken so much trouble with and expressed loudly his disappointment with the contents. “I don’t want a silly old paintbox,” he yelled. “I’ve got one at home. Give me something else!” He tried to snatch at one of the higher branches of the tree from which dangled an enticingly packed net stocking. “Give me that,” he demanded.
When Dick showed no signs of complying, he lunged at the tree in an effort to drag down the prize. But it was securely tied on and the children gave a scream of terror as the tree tilted and crashed down on the hearth. In an instant the sprawling, frost-spangled branches had struck against the fireguard, knocking it aside and the flexible branches had settled in the flames. There was a flash as the rosiny wood caught fire and the spun-glass baubles exploded in slivers.
The children, issuing screams of terror, were scrambling towards the door when Randall burst in with Grace running behind him. In a second he had slipped off his jacket and thrown it over the flaming branches, wrapping it around them. Immediately there was a choking cloud of smoke and the room was filled with the
smell of singeing wool.