Emerald Mistress (22 page)

* * *

At Dooleys, Boyce got up to play with the band. His talent with the flute was marked by the silence of an appreciative audience followed by prolonged applause. In high spirits, he came back to his sister. ‘I can’t believe I’ve only got a couple of days left in Ballyflynn,’ he confessed. ‘I want you to know that I’ve had a fantastic time and made some great new friends. Even if my offer to buy Slieveross is turned down, I’ll be a regular visitor.’

‘I’ve loved having you here.’

Suddenly her brother set his drink down with a stifled exclamation and began to rise.

‘What’s up?’

His frowning look of surprise evaporating, Boyce shook his head and resumed his seat again. ‘I thought I saw a girl I used to know, but it must have been my imagination. The lighting’s lousy in here.’

Harriet looked across the crowded room just as a tall familiar figure appeared in the doorway: it was Rafael. Several people hailed him when he strolled up to the bar to order. Long fingers wrapped round a pint of Guinness, he swung round to view the room and her heart literally jumped—so hard she almost pressed a hand to it. In a husky dark blue sweater and faded jeans, his strong jawline roughened by dark stubble, he looked stupendously sexy. As he glanced in her direction, she whipped round again, her face burning.

Rafael walked over and asked her with the utmost casualness to introduce him to her brother. She was astonished when he then sat down to engage Boyce in conversation. A ripple of perceptible interest passed round the room as attention centred on their table. His dark golden eyes amused by her wonder at his arrival, Rafael lounged back in his seat. A study in graceful indolence, he talked to her brother
with sociable ease. Acquainted as she was with Rafael’s reserve, she was impressed that he had made the effort to meet Boyce.

‘You got some pulling power, girl!’ Fergal bantered in a whisper on his way past. ‘The man himself isn’t a regular here.’

Boyce was invited back to the stage to play, but to Harriet’s surprise he demurred, pleading tiredness. A moment later he angled an apologetic smile at Rafael and asked Harriet to take him back to the cottage.

‘I’ll be in touch.’ Something that might have been amusement gleamed in Rafael’s keen gaze.

Her brother turned to her in the car park and exclaimed, ‘Rafael Cavaliere…
only
Rafael blasted Cavaliere! You weren’t going to tell me either, were you?’

‘Tell you what?’ Harriet was astonished, for she had not realised that Rafael had been so up-front about his identity.

‘That the biggest womaniser in the Western World is your neighbour and your partner in the stables!’ Boyce snapped, tight-lipped with concern. ‘I almost fell under the table when I realised who he was. Let me tell you, no brother worth the name would let his sister fall into the clutches of a guy with Cavaliere’s reputation without saying something about it!’

Harriet got into the driver’s seat. ‘For goodness’ sake, Boyce…I’m a woman, not a kid—’

‘You couldn’t handle him. He’s into fast women. Don’t you read the tabloids? He’ll give you a fantastic time for a few weeks and then you’ll be history. If he’s hunting you, it can only be because there’s a shortage of supermodels and actresses round here!’

Pain sliced through Harriet at that telling comment from her half-sibling. Boyce fell suddenly silent, as if he realised that he had been less than tactful. But Harriet could only acknowledge that it was true: she had no hope of ever falling into the supermodel category. Hadn’t she too wondered if the secret of her attraction for Rafael was proximity and lack of competition?

‘Harriet…I didn’t mean it that way…’

‘No offence taken.’

Boyce released a measured sigh. ‘Luke really chewed you up, and you’re vulnerable right now. The last thing you need is a super-wealthy tycoon running rings round you and then forgetting your name the minute he gets bored!’

‘But I bet I’d enjoy myself…for a while anyway. Luke wasn’t much fun. I didn’t appreciate that until I’d got over him.’ Harriet switched off the engine outside the cottage and lifted her chin. ‘Life’s too
short for regrets. Didn’t you like anything about Rafael?’

Her brother regarded her in frank surprise. ‘When did I say I disliked the bloke? He’s clever, cool…a touch intimidating, I have to admit. But I’ve got nothing against him.’

Harriet could not help laughing. ‘No?’

‘No. I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Let’s face it—you’re into steady relationships and he wouldn’t know what one was…’

CHAPTER EIGHT

R
AFAEL LAY
in bed listening in resignation to Harriet’s bedraggled rooster bring in the dawn at Flynn Court. Familiarity with the experience did not lessen the full effect of Albert in full flow. In spite of Tolly and Una’s conspiracy of silence, he knew that the rooster belonged to Harriet’s menagerie since Davis had spilled the beans. Apparently Albert visited the stable yard for a second chorus every morning, and Davis was definitely not a fan.

‘I hear you’re a fine shot, sir,’ the groom had remarked hopefully. ‘Sure, who would ever know if that pesky bird was just to disappear into thin air?’

‘Albert is a pet,’ Rafael had murmured in quiet warning. ‘I want him to enjoy a long and healthy life.’

Harriet rose early. With the gymkhana taking place within twenty-four hours, she had a busy day ahead. The elderly farmer who owned Slieveross
had agreed to meet Boyce, but had also intimated that he was not yet willing to discuss the possibility of selling it. The auctioneer had warned her brother that the old man would probably want to spend a few weeks, at the very least, mulling over whether or not he was prepared to part with any of the land.

‘Such a quaint way to do business,’ Boyce commented with immense appreciation over breakfast.

The two women organising the gymkhana arrived about nine, with helpers to put up the jumps and rope off separate sections in the field so that more than one event could take place at the same time. Harriet had just sat down to finish off the bills in the office when a knock sounded on the door. It opened slowly to reveal Una.

‘It’s me…I suppose you’ve been wondering where I’ve been,’ the teenager said uncomfortably.

‘Yes.’

Una reddened. ‘I thought you’d gone back with your ex-fiancé and I was really annoyed with you.’

‘But why did you think that?’ Harriet asked gently.

Una hung her dark head and explained how she had reached that conclusion before saying, ‘You’re going to think I’m really sad…’

‘I won’t.’

‘I just
so
wanted you to get off with Rafael.’

Harriet was surprised. ‘You…
did?
’

‘I like you. I thought you’d be good for him. Please don’t tell him I said it, but left to himself he has really,
really
bad taste in women,’ the slender brunette confided in a guilty whisper.

Harriet could barely keep her face straight. ‘Is that so?’

‘All they’re interested in is his money, and they’re dead fake and plastic. But you’re into horses, like he is, and you’re not always fussing about how you look. I knew he’d go for that. I was waiting on you two getting together and—’

‘Giving me useful hints on how best to achieve that objective?’

Una nodded agreement, then got down on her knees to pet Samson and scratch Peanut at the back of the ear, in the precise spot that reduced the pig to an ecstatic porcine heap of contentment. ‘So I was furious when I thought you preferred a guy who’d two-timed you,’ the teenager admitted. ‘Rafael said that that was none of my business, and that I shouldn’t let it make a difference to me. I know that’s true, but we were friends and I couldn’t help being upset about it.’

‘I can understand that.’ But the faintest furrow still marred Harriet’s brow, for she believed every word that Rafael’s sister had said, and could not credit that the younger woman would have painted that warning on the stable wall.

‘Are you very angry with me?’ Una pressed tautly.

‘No, but from now on I think it would be easier for you if you took a little less interest in who your brother sees,’ she said quietly. ‘Now, if you’re here to stay I could really use an extra pair of hands around here today.’

At lunchtime Tolly appeared, with a large old-fashioned covered basket. ‘I’ve brought you a picnic.’

‘Have you?’ Harriet smiled, delighted he had come to see her. ‘Oh, I could hug you! I hope you’re planning to join us?’

His blue eyes shone with pleasure at the warmth of his welcome. ‘If you insist.’

‘Of course, I do. Una, come on. We’ll go and sit on the grass and enjoy the sunshine,’ she suggested.

The meadow outside the stable yard was bright with wildflowers. Deep yellow cowslips, pretty pink lady’s smock and oxeye daisies flourished in the undisturbed ground. On the other side of the lane the field bristled with brightly coloured jumps. She helped Tolly spread the rug on the grass. He opened the basket to reveal a mouthwatering selection of picnic delicacies.

‘Delish,’ Una pronounced happily, and munched her way rapidly through a handful of tiny bites. After reaching for a more substantial roll to keep her going, she got up again to throw Peanut’s ball.

‘How’s your brother doing?’ Harriet asked the older man. ‘I heard he was ill.’

‘Eamon has heart trouble, but he’s making a good recovery. Rafael sent me over to Liverpool in his private jet and arranged for a consultant.’ Tolly sighed. ‘He’s a very generous, but only those who have experienced that side of him appreciate that. He doesn’t like to be thanked, and he doesn’t like the help he gives to be talked about. But he’s come to the rescue of many a needy family in this community.’

‘Harriet!’ Una shouted, loud enough and sharp enough in pitch to make Harriet flinch. ‘I think you should come over here…’

The teenager was staring at Harriet’s car.

‘Don’t tell me I’ve got a flat tyre,’ Harriet groaned, crossing the lane to the gravelled parking area.

‘Is that what I think it is?’ Una queried with a revealing shudder.

A funeral wreath composed of pink and white chrysanthemums was resting against the front windscreen of her car. Harriet’s tummy churned as if she had gone down too fast in a lift. The card had been turned out to display the time-honoured message: RIP. Handwritten in felt tip. Frozen to the spot, Harriet gazed at it in appalled disbelief. A creepy sensation of menace raised gooseflesh at the nape of her neck.

‘What is it?’ Tolly came to a halt beside her. The consternation on his kindly face was palpable.

‘Do you think it’s supposed to be a joke? It’s really freaky!’ Una exclaimed, backing off several steps. ‘I think you should call the guards right away.’

‘The guards?’ Harriet echoed, wondering how the wreath could possibly look so pretty and so threatening at the same time.

‘The
garda
…the police,’ the teenager clarified. ‘Wake up, Harriet! Someone must have come up here and left it while you were in the yard. You should ring those women who were doing the jumps and ask if they saw anyone acting strange up here.’

Tolly had already moved to a spot a few yards away to employ a mobile phone.

‘No, don’t call the police…’ Harriet told him as he turned back to her. ‘Look, give me a minute to think about this.’

‘I’m afraid I’ve already called Rafael. He’ll know what to do,’ Tolly said soothingly. ‘Let’s not allow this to spoil our picnic.’

But Harriet had been badly shaken, and she had no appetite left for food. In any case, Rafael arrived within five minutes. He treated the wreath to a cursory appraisal, instructed Tolly and Una not to touch it or the car, and suggested that he and Harriet talk indoors.

Rafael pulled out her shabby office chair. ‘Sit down…you look like you’re in shock.’

‘Maybe because this isn’t the first thing that’s happened.’

He leant back against the desk in a galling attitude of relaxation while she told him about the message on the stable wall. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone about it?’

‘I didn’t take it seriously…Oh, for goodness’ sake.’ Harriet gave him a look of rueful appeal. ‘You’ll probably hate me for admitting it, but at the time I was worried it was Una, because I knew she was annoyed with me. And,
no
, I don’t suspect her for one moment now, or think she’s in any way involved with putting that wretched wreath on my car! She’s not the type to sneak around behind backs.’

‘I would agree—my sister is much more in-your-face than that. I don’t think that we need to make a fuss about the wreath,’ Rafael drawled with measured cool, his brilliant eyes veiled by dense black lashes, ‘however, the
garda
should still be informed. I’ll have the car checked over for you as well.’

‘It’s not like me, but I’m just a bit nervous,’ Harriet muttered apologetically. ‘Do you have any ex-girlfriend who is likely to qualify for the bunny-boiler stakes?’

‘Anything’s possible.’ Rafael shrugged a broad shoulder in the same nonchalant fashion that suggested
bunny boilers were no big deal, and she found that attitude wonderfully reassuring.

‘I don’t like knowing that someone was bold enough to plant that thing on my car in broad daylight,’ she admitted.

‘Davis says the yard now attracts a steady stream of callers, so one more car wouldn’t attract attention.’

‘Do you think it’s all right to go ahead with the gymkhana tomorrow?’

‘Of course it is!’ he responded with emphasis. ‘You worry too much. I’m sure this is a tasteless practical joke and nothing more.’

As soon as he had left Harriet, Rafael crossed the yard to warn Davis not to let Harriet out of his sight until his own security men were in place to watch over her. He called the head of his protection team, discussed events so far, with particular reference to his suspicion that the same malicious party had unbolted the gate and let out the horses the other night. He pointed out the need for discretion in Harriet’s vicinity because he did not want her to be alarmed. He also organised extra security men to cover the gymkhana. At that point he drove down to the cottage and was just in time to catch Boyce before he went out. Some time later the two men parted, in full agreement on how to deal with the situation; Boyce’s opinion of Rafael had rocketed…