Lady of Hay by Barbara Erskine (reading an ebook TXT) 📕

"You should know better by now than to trust Sam with anything at all. "

She did not smile. "It's over, Nick. Finished. " She tried to drag her eyes away from his face. His handsome features were shadowed with fatigue. She looked down abruptly at her glass. "Please, Nick. Don't make a scene here. "

"I'm not going to make a scene. All I want is to talk. " Nick made a despairing grimace at their host, who was listening with undisguised attention. "Where, by the way, is the talented Mr. Heacham? I thought he was supposed to be with you?"

She tensed suddenly and he saw the color in her cheeks. "He had to go back to town. He only came to take some pictures. "

Nick tried to hide his elation. "All the better. We can talk in peace. Look, Jo. I'm going back to London tomorrow, so you needn't panic. Why don't we have something to eat and a bottle of wine, then we'll talk later. That's all I want to do. Please—" he added as an afterthought.

Jo hesitated, then she stood up, forcing a smile. "All right. I'll go and change out of these jeans and join you in ten minutes. But just for a meal. " She picked up her bag. "Do I gather you intend to stay here tonight?"

He nodded. "Mr. Vaughan has a closet for me, I believe. "

"That's just as well. " She gave him a tight smile. "Because my room is single. "

"Ouch!" Vaughan said quietly as Jo swung out of the room. "Would I be right in thinking you've offended the lady?"

Nick gave a dry laugh. "Something like that, " he said.

In her room at the top of the steep stairs Jo shut the door and leaned against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then slowly she walked to the small table, which sported a square mirror, and stared at her reflection as she began to unbutton her blouse. She had known when she called Sam that he would tell Nick where she was. Was that why she had done it? She pulled off the blouse and threw it on the bed then wearily she slipped out of her jeans. As she pulled on her bathrobe, she went to the door. There would be time for a shower and a few minutes flat on her back with her eyes closed before she need go back downstairs.

"Have you gone back into the past again since you've been here?" Nick looked up at her across the small table. The room was noisy now, crowded and full of cigarette smoke.

She was toying listlessly with her french fries. After a minute she nodded. "You know, when I wanted to go into a trance with Tim there so that he could photograph me— nothing happened. I couldn't do it—but then later I did. "

"And it frightened you, didn't it?"

"It frightened me that I couldn't control it. " She glanced up at him under her eyelashes. "I was going to Radnor today, then halfway there I stopped. I panicked. I didn't want it to happen again; suddenly I didn't dare go anywhere Matilda might have been. I didn't want anything to trigger off another regression, not alone. "

Their eyes met. Nick's face was harsh. "So your past doesn't please you. Do you intend to forget about Matilda now?"

"How can I? I'm trapped. " She gave up all pretense of eating and reached for her wineglass. "Are you going to say I told you so?"

He ignored the question. "You need not have come back to Wales. "

"Oh, but I did have to. I'm working on a story, and I want to finish it. "

"Even though you're afraid?"

"Even though I'm afraid, " she repeated slowly, with a rueful smile. "Remember the war correspondent. "

He was watching her closely. She had let her hair fall loosely on her shoulders and was wearing now a tan linen dress, unadorned save for a thin gold chain around her neck. As she spoke a heavy lock of her hair slipped forward onto her breast. She put down her glass. "Have you come up here to apologize, Nick?"

"For what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"For what?" she echoed. "For bloody well nearly killing me once, then last time for scaring me silly. " She stared at him. "Don't tell me you don't remember what happened!"

He smiled grimly. "I remember clearly. Tell me, did Tim photograph you while you were making love to one of your phantoms? Will there be pictures of you writhing in ecstasy all over the gutter press?"

Jo's eyes hardened. "You know bloody well there won't. Nick, if you've come up here to make trouble again—"

"Trouble?" He raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to make trouble. "

She stared at him. He was watching her with a strange look on his face, half wry amusement, half something harder —and more calculating, and she felt a prickle of apprehension. "Nick, you behaved like a madman, " she whispered. "I was scared. "

"With reason. " He picked up the wine bottle and filled his glass.

"You're not even sorry, are you!" She was incredulous.

"I didn't want to hurt you, Jo. "

"Then why did you do it? Were you drunk?"

"Perhaps. " A half smile flickered behind his eyes.

She swallowed hard. "I don't understand you anymore, Nick. You've changed. "

He laughed uneasily. "Obviously for the worse as far as you're concerned. "

"Yes, for the worse. " Her eyes sparkled angrily. "Judy Curzon may like your new macho image, Nick, but I don't. I find it boorish. What the hell is happening to you?" She stood up abruptly. "I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now. I'll see you in the morning, no doubt, before you leave. "

For a moment he thought she was going to say something else, then she changed her mind and threaded her way swiftly out of the bar without a backward glance. Nick did not move. He picked up the bottle again,