Read Outsider Online

Authors: Sara Craven

Outsider (11 page)

five minutes she found him. He was standing in the shadows of the block

housing the changing room and weighing-in facilities. He wasn't alone.

Michelle Laidlaw was with him, and she was in tears.

Natalie halted abruptly, staring at them in shock. She heard Mrs Laidlaw say

brokenly, 'Eliot, for God's sake have a little mercy!'

He returned flatly, 'It's impossible, and you know it.'

Natalie thought, I shouldn't be listening to this. She tried to retreat, but her

unguarded movement attracted their attention, and they both turned and

looked at her.

She saw Michelle Laidlaw clap both hands over her mouth in horror.

She heard herself say baldly, 'Your husband's looking for you, and he's

drunk.' Then she turned and ran, leaving them together.

CHAPTER SIX

ELIOT caught her easily before she'd gone more than a few yards, his fingers

digging into her arm as he seized her and pulled her round to face him.

'Where do you think you're going?' An angry muscle flickered beside his

mouth.

'Anywhere,' she said jerkily, trying to pull away from him. 'Don't you think

you'd better get back to your ladylove?'

'You don't know what you're talking about!'

'Oh, don't I?' She lifted her chin, furiously aware her voice was quivering.

'I'm not a chaperon. I'm the cover for your sordid affair with a married

woman. Well, I hope her husband finds you—and knocks you senseless!'

'To hell with this!' His voice was molten with rage. 'I'm damned if I'm going

to be condemned twice for the same offence—especially by you—and

particularly as I'm not guilty anyway.'

His hand urged her forward, not gently. She twisted, looking for Michelle

Laidlaw, but she'd disappeared. 'Leave me alone! Where are you taking me?'

'To the car park. You can sit in the car and calm down while I see the horses

safely loaded. Then we'll talk.'

'There's nothing to talk about.'

'Oh, yes, there is, but if you don't want to talk, you can listen at least. And

here's the first thing you can consider. The fact that Kevin's stinking drunk,

and Michelle is weeping all over me has nothing to do with any non-existent

love affair between us. It's because Terence Strang is taking his horses away

and sending them to us instead. So chew that over!'

Natalie sat in the Porsche, trembling with temper, staring through the

windscreen. She felt like a naughty child, sent to her room. It was

undoubtedly exactly what Eliot wanted her to feel. Well, if it was intended to

make her more malleable, so she'd listen fo any cock-and-bull explanation

he chose to put forward, he would find he'd made a grave mistake.

When at last he came to join her, she didn't look at him, but continued to

stare rigidly ahead of her.

He said, 'Are you prepared to listen to reason now?'

'Your reason?' she asked with bitter contempt. 'I'm not deaf, Eliot, or blind. I

saw Michelle Laidlaw with you.'

He smiled grimly. 'Blind with prejudice where I'm concerned, wouldn't you

say? I hope you're never called for jury service, Mrs Drummond. You're far

too quick to pronounce sentence.'

She bit her lip. 'Well, say what you have to say, and let's get going.'

'Very well,' he said harshly. 'I repeat—I was never in love with Michelle

Laidlaw, or she with me. And I never laid a finger on her while I was riding

for her husband, or at any other time. And Kevin knows it.'

Natalie sent him a disbelieving look. 'Then why didn't he deny those stories

when they appeared in the papers?'

'Because he preferred people to think I'd made a pass at Michelle and been

kicked off the premises, than find out the real reason,' he said caustically.

'He probably started the rumours himself, as a cover story.'

'So what was the real explanation?'

Eliot was silent for a moment, his mouth compressed. Then he said, 'He

wanted me to pull some horses for him.' He saw her startled look, and

nodded. 'Yes, he wanted some races lost. He had financial problems,

although he wouldn't specify what they were, and he thought he could

persuade me to lose on the favourite so that he could back another runner at

much better odds, and clean up.'

'And you wouldn't do it?'

'What do you think? I told him I wasn't prepared to risk an enquiry, and

losing my licence—apart from the fact that there was no guarantee the other

horse would win for him,' he added cynically. 'I reminded him that at the

beginning of our association I'd told him I rode only to win. Anything else is

unfair to the owner, and more than unfair to the horse. I said if he'd changed

his mind about the rules of play, he could find another jockey, and I walked

out.'

'And he—made up that story? But why?'

'To make sure if there was any mud-slinging, his handful would land first.

He leaked the story somehow, then denied it in such a way everyone was

convinced it had to be the truth. Anything I'd said after that would have

looked like a lame attempt to save face.' He laughed harshly. 'And the mud

stuck all right. Owners and trainers with attractive wives fought shy of me

for quite a time, and that cost me financially—and emotionally as well.' His

mouth twisted. 'I was living with someone. We'd begun to talk about the

future—making it permanent. When the scandal broke, she couldn't wait to

move out. She said there was no smoke without fire. So that was the end of

that—and when the papers picked it up, it seemed to add the final

confirmation of Kevin's story.'

The bitterness in his voice was authentic. He was telling the truth, Natalie

thought with an odd pang.

She said, 'I'm—sorry that happened.'

'It was probably for the best. What relationship can work without trust?'

He-paused. 'But it's clear from what Terence Strang said today that Kevin's

been using a more amenable jockey. And he's let too many of Strang's horses

lose, today being the final straw. If that fall was genuine, I'm a Dutchman,

although I don't suppose it can be proved.'

'And Terence Strang wants Wintersgarth to train his horses?' The full

implication of what he had said earlier was just coming home to her.

Eliot smiled faintly. 'The jumpers to begin with, and maybe the others later.'

'Did you know he was going to be here?'

'I had a good idea he might be,' he said shortly. 'He rang me last week to ask

my opinion on one of his horses I'd ridden as a two-year-old, and why it had

developed all kinds of apparent faults since. It finished seventh today.' His

mouth curled. 'He didn't tell Kevin he'd be coming to watch them run,

otherwise the results might have been rather different.'

Natalie's thoughts were running ahead. She said, "That's a lot of horses.'

He nodded. 'That's why we need those new boxes you've been so dubious

about.'

'You—
knew
he'd send them to us?'

'I thought he would—unless Kevin came back to his senses.' He sighed. 'His

financial problems are going to get a damned sight worse from now on, and

that's why Michelle was pleading with me. She wanted me to persuade

Strang to leave his horses with them.'

'But you couldn't do that...'

'As no doubt you heard me telling her,' he agreed, and she flushed.

'Yes,' she said in a subdued voice. 'I seem to have rather—jumped to

conclusions.'

'And not for the first time.' There was a pause, then he said quietly, 'You

really think I'm National Hunt racing's answer to Casanova, don't you?'

She said in a stifled tone, 'I don't think about it at all?

'Liar,' he said softly. 'Every time a woman spoke to me this afternoon, I

could see your mind working overtime, wondering whether I'd laid her?

Her mouth tightened. 'You're not exactly an injured innocent in that

respect—or no one would have believed Kevin Laidlaw?

'I'm not a virgin,' he returned with a touch of mockery. 'But then you'd hardly

expect me to be, at thirty-two. But I'm no sexual athlete either. If I'd really

spent the amount of time in bed I'm credited with, I'd never have had the

energy to win all those races?

Her colour deepened. 'I really don't want to discuss this?

'Then we'll change the subject? Eliot started the engine. 'But if Kevin

Laidlaw was looking for me, it was because I'd seduced his principal owner,

not his wife. And now let's go and celebrate? He smiled at her. 'I'll let you

have the pleasure of telling Grantham about our latest acquisitions?

Natalie returned his smile rather shyly. 'I'll phone him as soon as we get

back?

She had expected him to drive straight back to Wintersgarth, and was

surprised when he pulled off the A1 and drove through the lanes to a large

house standing in substantial grounds.

Natalie saw there were other cars parked outside. 'What is this place?'

'A restaurant. I told you—we're going to celebrate, beginning with dinner. I

telephoned from the course to book a table.'

A day at the races was one thing, dinner
a deux
quite another, Natalie

thought as he came round to open the passenger door.

She said, 'I'm not very hungry.'

'Then you can watch me eat,' said Eliot equably. 'Success always makes me

ravenous. Now, are you getting out of the car, or do I have to carry you in

there, cave-man style?'

It was said laughingly, but there was purpose in the hazel eyes, and Natalie

scrambled out hastily, walking ahead of him with all the dignity she could

command.

They sat at a lamplit table studying their menus. Natalie's had no prices, she

noticed, wondering how Eliot had heard about this place. It was discreetly

opulent, and clearly very expensive.

When they had given their orders to an attentive
maitre d'hotel,
Natalie

excused herself and went to the powder- room to freshen up. She washed her

hands, and deftly re- pinned a few errant strands of hair. She adjusted her

lipstick, deciding as she studied herself that it was all that was strictly

necessary. There was more colour in her cheeks than there had been for

months, and an unaccustomed sparkle in her eyes. She shrugged off her

suede jacket, shaking the creases from the sleeves of the cream silk shfrt she

wore beneath it, eyeing the effect critically in the mirror. She wished she'd

had the opportunity to change, but it seemed she would have to go for a

casual smartness instead. Her hand lifted and undid one of the shirt's tiny

buttons, then moved down to the next, before she stopped short with a little

gasp.

What on earth was she thinking of? she asked herself wildly. She'd never

ever shown that much cleavage—not even when she'd been first married,

and Tony had urged her to dress more daringly. God knows what Eliot

would think if she went back to the table looking like this, she thought, her

flush deepening painfully as she made haste to restore its usual decorum to

her appearance.

When she made her way back to the table rather tensely, she found

champagne on ice awaiting her.

She sank into her chair. 'You really mean to celebrate, don't you?'

Eliot grinned lazily. 'It's what we started on with the Besants. Why change a

good habit?'

It was a wonderful meal, from the colourful chicken and pepper terrine

which began it, to the sizzling lobsters in their wine and cream sauce.

Afterwards, Eliot opted for cheese, while Natalie sampled out-of-season

strawberries in a filigree pastry basket.

'I'm glad you recovered your appetite,' Eliot said silk- ily, as the waiter

refilled their coffee cups.

Natalie sighed with happy repletion. 'It's a pity we can't do this every time a

new owner sends us his horses,' she said dreamily, then blushed. 'I mean—I

didn't mean...'

'Don't apologise.' Eliot reached across the table and took her fingers in his. 'I

think it's a fantastic idea.'

He wasn't exerting the slightest pressure—she could have released herself at

any time, and she knew it. Yet suddenly every inch of skin on her body

seemed to be warning, tingling. Natalie stared down at the tablecloth,"

aware as never before of a strange, heated throb in her pulses.

She said in a choked voice, 'It's rather late. I think we should go.'There was a

pause, then Eliot nodded, and signalled to the waiter. Released, she clasped

her hands together in her lap beneath the shelter of the cloth, willing the odd

trembling to stop.

Wintersgarth was still a fair distance, she realised as she sat beside him in

the car, in a darkness which seemed too enclosed, too intimate altogether.

She touched the tip of her tongue to dry lips. If he was to stop the car in one

of these lanes—and kiss her—there wouldn't be a great deal she could do

about it.

But to her intense relief, he had no such intention. They were soon on the

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