Outsider (21 page)

taken on a new secretary. It means I don't have to go near the yard—I don't

have to see Jasmine's empty box.'

'But you didn't do anything. You weren't responsible. Eliot proved that,

surely? He showed you it was impossible for you to have dislodged the bolt

in the way you described.'

'Yes,' Natalie said neutrally. 'He's been—very kind about it all.'

And if kindness had been all she wanted from him, she thought detachedly,

she would have been happy indeed. As it was...

She went on, 'And it's proved something else to me as well. Daddy was right

all along when he said I wasn't / tough enough for his kind of life. It—it

doesn't even seem to matter any more.'

Beattie patted her arm. 'That's because you're having a baby, and that's

absorbing all your attention.' She chuckled. 'It'll be different once it's born.

You'll be in there slugging, fighting for your rights all over again!'

Natalie thought,
I wonder...

'How did your ante-natal check up go?' asked Beat- tie.

Natalie shrugged. 'Fine—apparently. I'm in excellent health, and so's the

baby, although I don't know how they can tell. I haven't even got a bump

yet.'

She flushed slightly as she remembered the doctor's cheerful, 'And it's all

right to resume normal marital relations, Mrs Lang, if you haven't already.

There can be a slight risk in the early weeks sometimes, but that's behind you

now. Be happy. Enjoy your marriage and your pregnancy.'

But that was easier said than done, she thought wretchedly, when Eliot

hadn't even crossed the threshold of their bedroom since the night of

Jasmine's accident.

He was invariably polite when they did encounter each other—considerate

even—but aloof, creating a barrier that she seemed unable to penetrate. And

he never touched her, even accidentally. Indeed, he seemed to go out of his

way to avoid physical contact with her.

Although she had to acknowledge that he had plenty to occupy his mind

these days. A number of owners, including Terence Strang, had been

concerned when a brief story about Jasmine's accident had appeared in the

papers.

In fact Mr Strang had descended on them like a thunderbolt, demanding to

know what kind of set-up allowed valuable horses to roam on main roads in

the early hours, and what guarantee there was that it wouldn't happen again.

A number of others had asked the same thing. And Oriel Prince had removed

her two, insisting that Sharon go with them. Natalie had been really sorry to

see her go, but Sharon had been cheerful enough.

'Going back to Lambourn means I'll be nearer the family,' she said. 'And I

knew she wouldn't leave well alone.' She gave Natalie a cryptic glance. 'Not

once she found out Mr Lang was married. Sort of—removed her incentive.'

Natalie had smiled dutifully, but she thought,
No, it didn't...

And there were other problems too—the continuing publicity about

Midstream and his potential, for one.

'You can't go up on the gallops these days for pressmen with cameras

jumping out of the gorse at you,' Wes said gloomily.

Even Grantham had acceded grudgingly that maybe Micky's fall could be

attributed to being dazzled by a camera lens rather than carelessness.

And in a fortnight Midstream was to compete in his first major race since

coming to Wintersgarth—the Whitstone Cup, and he was already, because

of the newspaper stories, being heavily backed.

As she walked back to the flat, hands tucked into the pockets of her

sheepskin coat, Natalie wondered whether Eliot would ask her to go wjth

him to watch Midstream. He had never suggested, since their marriage, that

she accompany him racing. It seemed that she was the outsider now.

She'd thought he would be up on the gallops for the second exercise of the

day, but when she walked into the kitchen he was sitting at the table.

'Oh.' Natalie halted. 'Did you want to speak to me about something? I'm

sorry—I was up at the house with Beattie.'

'Yes, 1 guessed that. I've just made some coffee. Would you like some?'

She wrinkled her nose. 'Perhaps not. It seems to be the only thing that still

makes me feel a little bit sick.' She paused. 'I saw the doctor this morning.

He says everything's fine.'

'Good.' His tone was polite without any real warmth.

Natalie bit her lip. 'I'll go and change, and make a start on lunch. We're

having goulash today,' she went on, making an effort to speak lightly.

'Beattie's been giving me lessons, you'll be relieved to hear.'

'Will it stretch?' he asked. 'Calum Carmichael's coming down this morning

to have a look at Midstream, and I'd like to be able to offer him a meal

afterwards.'

'Yes, of course.' He couldn't be more formal, Natalie thought miserably, if

she was some newly engaged housekeeper. Except that she'd probably have

had her cards by now. She was still no culinary expert, and although Eliot

offered no overt criticism, he still often cooked the evening meal himself.

'I'll try not to burn anything,' she joked weakly, but he didn't return her smile.

He picked up an envelope and slid it across the table to her. 'Do you know

this house?' he asked.

The envelope contained several typed pages, and a number of photographs

in colour. Natalie's eyes widened incredulously as she spotted an estate

agent's logo.

'But this is Highbeck House!' she exclaimed. 'Surely Mrs Grosvenor isn't

selling?'

'It seems she has to. She's well into her eighties, and she's had a couple of

falls lately, so her daughter is insisting she moves in with them.' Eliot spoke

shortly, as if his mind were elsewhere. He looked at Natalie. 'I was

wondering if you'd be interested in living there?'

Her heart skipped a beat, as she remembered what he'd said about making

other arrangements when the baby was born.

'By myself?'His mouth tightened. 'No, I'd planned on living there too,

although the house is probably big enough for us to maintain separate

establishments, if that's what you want.'

'I didn't say that.' She began to turn over the photographs. 'Poor Mrs

Grosvenor! She'll miss her home, and her lovely garden.'

'Well, think about it, and let me know if you'd like to look round it at least. It

hasn't come on the market yet in the strictest sense, so we have a few days'

leeway. Certainly, we can't go on living here. For one thing, it won't be big

enough when the baby comes. And for another...' He stopped abruptly.

'Yes?' Natalie shuffled the photographs back into the envelope, not looking

at him.

Eliot was silent for a moment, then he said, 'Before we were married, I said

there were no ghosts here. It was a typically arrogant remark, and I apologise

for it, because it's evident that this place does have—hang-ups from the past

for you that I've totally failed to exorcise.' His eyes met hers. 'You'd cleared

away every physical trace of him—of your life together. You weren't even

wearing his ring when I met you—but Drummond's shadow still hangs over

you, doesn't it?'

Natalie sighed harshly. 'Yes,' she admitted, 'I—suppose it does.'

He nodded. 'I can't—I don't blame you for that. You were his wife. Perhaps

he showed you a different side of himself from the one he displayed to the

rest of the world.' He paused, his face hardening. 'Maybe if I'd been able to

like him, I could understand this—continuing loyalty of yours. But he

wouldn't want you to mourn for ever—to waste all your warmth and spirit on

a dead man.' He took a breath. 'I swore to myself I wouldn't pressure

you—that I'd give you all the time you needed.' He laughed harshly. 'I hadn't

realised what sheer hell trying to be noble could be! I don't know how much

longer I can take this—non-life we're living.'

The bleak words jolted Natalie like a blow to the ribs. She stared at him

incredulously, her lips parting in wonder. She said slowly, 'Is—that what

you think?' then stopped, as a laughing voice floated up the stairs.

'Eliot my boy, where the hell are you hiding? Come down and show me this

devil horse I'm to ride for you!'

The breath was expelled explosively from Eliot's lungs. 'Calum,' he said

with resignation. He got up from the table, giving Natalie a frowning,

questioning look as he went to the door. 'We're up here, Cal!'

Calum Carmichael came into the kitchen like a breath of vibrant breeze.

'Well, Mrs Lang.' He grabbed Natalie's hand and raised it to his lips. 'So

you're the poor soul who has the job of turning this reprobate into an honest

man. God, Eliot, but your good taste is sickening!'

Natalie's head was whirling, her emotions in chaos, but a bubble of reluctant

laughter escaped her. Calum's buoyant charm was irresistible.

Eliot was grinning too. 'Subtle as ever, I see! The devil horse in question is

saddled and waiting for you, my son.'

Calum whistled. 'You mean you want me to get on its back now? And I was

thinking I'd make his acquaintance in the parade ring.'

'Then think again,' Eliot advised caustically. He looked over Calum's elegant

tweeds with a raised eyebrow. 'Though how you expect to ride looking like

an ad for Harrods men's department...'

'An envious spirit is a terrible thing,' said Calum sadly. 'As it happens, I have

my gear in the car. I'll tell you what it is, Mrs Lang—this sadist only wants to

put me up on this horse so I'll be thrown on my face in the mud in front of my

fiancee. A nice sedate drive in beautiful countryside is what I promised the

woman.'

'Please won't you call me Natalie?' She smiled at him. 'And if your fiancee's

with you where is she?'

'In the car, learning her place,' Calum said instantly. 'All fillies need the

same treatment—the masterful hand on the reins, the odd touch of the whip.'

He winked at Natalie. 'I say this because she's safely out of earshot, the

harpy. Shall I bring her up to you, then?'

The harpy turned out to be small, chestnut-haired and curvaceous, wrapped

in a fun fur. She kissed Eliot with the ease of an old friend, then turned with

a shy smile to Natalie, introducing herself as Cathy Horton.

When the invitation to lunch had been proffered and accepted she

immediately offered to help with the preparation.

'Aren't you coming to watch me make a fool of myself on this monster?'

Calum demanded reproachfully.

'We'll come up later.' She slapped him affectionately on the rear. 'Off you go,

and if you do fall off, make sure the wretched animal doesn't step on

anything vital. We're getting married at the end of the jumping season,' she

confided to Natalie as they were left alone.

'I hope you'll be very happy.' Natalie thought they would be. They both

seemed to have open, out-going personalities, although Cathy was the

quieter of the two. But the way they looked at each other, the open love

accepted and returned, twisted an envious knife in her soul. She said

curiously, 'Don't you worry—when Calum has to ride a difficult horse?'

'All the time,' Cathy admitted calmly. 'But it's his living, what: he does, so I

have to accept it.' She looked at Natalie questioningly. 'You didn't have the

same problem, did you? You weren't going with Eliot when he was a

jockey.'

'No.' Natalie emptied a tin of tomatoes into a bowl.

'I thought I hadn't see you around,' Cathy mused. 'L knew most of Eliot's

girlfriends.'

Natalie poured olive oil into a pan and began to heat it. Trying to sound

casual, she asked, 'Did you know— the girl he nearly married?'

'Camilla.' Cathy paused in her onion chopping to nod vigorously. 'Yes, I

knew her, and if you ask me he had a lucky escape. She didn't like any of his

friends, and we weren't keen on her either. She was hand in glove with his

mother, trying to make him give up horses and become something in the

City like the rest of his family. Eliot— can you imagine? She was a

lovely-looking girl, though,' she added fairly. 'And very sexy—always

giving Eliot looks as if she wanted him to jump on her there and then. But

they didn't have much going for them apart from sex. She knew he wasn't

going to give up racing and live life on her terms, and that's why she threw

him over. That daft business over Michelle Laidlaw was just an excuse.'

She grinned at Natalie. 'Have I covered everything?'

Natalie flushed. 'You must think I'm awful—pumping you for information

like this.' She began to brown the first cubes of meat.

'It's not awful at all. It's natural you'd want to know.' Cathy brought the

onions over. 'But if you're thinking Eliot married you on any kind of

rebound, forget it. He got over her with indecent haste, as Calum put it.' She