Lord of Misrule Page 3

  She turned impatiently as Maggie came back into the room and closed the door. The older woman stepped slowly across to them, a strange look on her face as she glanced at Verity. ‘That was my son, Sebastian. It seems that he was the one who knocked you off the bridge. It was purely an accident, of course,’ Maggie added quickly, ‘but he’s naturally very worried about you. He came here at once to find out how you were. He said that you seemed all right when he rescued you, but he can’t understand why you ran away from him and wouldn’t let him help you any further.’

  Both Verity’s and Paula’s eyes widened. ‘Your son?’ Paula exclaimed. ‘But I thought you said he wasn’t coming home until tonight.’

  ‘He managed to gel back earlier than he’d expected,’ Maggie explained. ‘But then he remembered some business he had with Olivers, and he went to drive over there, and that’s when he ran into—that is, knocked against… Oh, dear, I really think I ought to let him explain for himself. He’s waiting outside. May he come in? I know he’s very anxious to see for himself that you’re all right, Verily.’ As she spoke Maggie moved towards the door and stretched out her hand to the knob.

  Getting agitatedly to her feet. Verity said sharply, ‘No!’ And then, trying hard to control herself, ‘No, please. I—I really don’t want to see him. I‘ She broke off, unable to say what she really felt and too distraught to find a tactful way of putting it.

  Maggie frowned and said stiffly, ‘Sebastian assures me that the—the incident was quite accidental. He had the sun in his eyes and just didn’t see you. But I’m sure that he can explain much better than I can, if you’U just talk to him.’

  ‘No, not—not now, please. I—my hands…’

  She lifted them again, almost pleadingly, and Paula came to her aid by saying quickly, T really think it would be better if Verity had a little time to recover first, don’t you? After all, she’s had a nasty shock. And I must clean up her hands. Do you have a first-aid kit?’

  ‘Why, yes, of course. I—I’ll fetch it.’ But Maggie looked uncertainly at Verity. ‘But what shall I tell Sebastian?’

  ‘Oh, just that we’ll see him at dinner,’ Paula replied in her sweetest voice, and gave Maggie a disarming smile.

  When Paula smiled like that there were few people who could resist her, and, somewhat mollified, Maggie went away to find the first-aid box. Verity was in Paula’s bathroom when she returned with it and didn’t see her; she was sitting on a chair with her eyes closed and fighting hard to stop herself shaking.

  ‘Here, let me see.’ Paula gently took hold of one of her hands and began to bathe it. ‘Now tell me exactly what happened,’ she commanded.

  Slowly, her voice often breaking, Verity did so.

  Paula heard her out, then said, ‘And you’re convinced that he—Sebastian—deliberately ran you down?’

  ‘Yes. I ‘know it sounds crazy,’ Verity began, her voice rising, ‘but I’m sure he did.’

  ‘All right, I believe you,’ Paula said soothingly. ‘But he says that the sun was in his eyes and he didn’t see you.’ She took both of Verity’s hands in hers. ‘Maybe you ought to hear what he has to say before you accuse him of anything.’

  ‘You don’t believe me,’ Verity said flatly and tried to draw away.

  But Paula hung on. ‘I believe that you’re convinced in your own mind that it was deliberate,’ she assured Verity. ‘But why on earth should he do a thing like that? It just doesn’t make sense.’

  Verity looked at her unhappily. ‘Do you think I don’t know that? He must be some kind of maniac!’

  ‘Oh, Verity, come on. He’s Simon’s stepbrother, Maggie’s son, not some poor madman who’s escaped from an asylum. Why on earth would he run you down?’

  ‘I don’t know!’ Verity said sharply and got to her feet. ‘I only know thai he did.’ She swung round on her friend. ‘You’re convinced that I’m wrong, aren’t you? But, Paula, you didn’t see his fact—and I did. It was full of anger and determination and—and hate almost. For that split second before he hit me I saw all that, and I’m sure he meant to hit me!’

  It took a great deal of persuasion from Paula and a lot of courage on Verity’s part for her to go down to dinner an hour or so later. But Paula fussed around her, making her put on a deep green two-piece outfit that brought out the colour of her eyes, and drawing her hair back from her face, even making Verity spray on some of her best perfume. ‘There,’ Paula remarked as she drew her friend over to the full-length mirror. ‘If you must face Sebastian, you can at least do it looking your best. Looking good is a girl’s best armour, you know.’

  Verity nodded, but somehow didn’t feel that the girl reflected in the mirror was herself; the face was too pale despite the make-up, and there was still a frightened, almost hunted look in the eyes. A quiver ran through her and she turned to Paula with an appealing look. ‘Paula, I really can’t face him.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ the other girl replied firmly. ‘Look, you’ve got to see Sebastian some time. You can’t live in the same house and keep avoiding him. It’s ridiculous! So you might as well get it over with now. Come , on; I’m usually the coward, not you. You’re always the one who’s so strong and brave.’

  ‘Well, I don’t feel in the least brave now,’ Verity answered feelingly. But she allowed Paula to take her arm and lead her downstairs.

  They were waiting for them in the drawing-room, Maggie Layton and her son. Maggie was sitting on a settee, rather nervously flicking through a magazine, but Sebastian was standing by the fireplace, a foot on the fender and an elbow propped on the high mantelshelf. Verity’s eyes went immediately to him, and then instantly looked away, but she was aware of height and strength, of searching grey eyes under a broad brow, and a tension that was belied by his casual stance.

  Maggie got to her feet and came forward. ‘Let me introduce you,’ she said quickly. ‘Sebastian, this is your sister-in-law, Paula, and her friend Verity Mitchell. My son, Sebastian Kent.’

  Paula went forward first and, after a moment’s hesitation, gave an uncertain smile and shook the hand that Sebastian held out to her. They didn’t speak, and both turned almost immediately to where Verity stood nervously near the door, looking poised to run away at any sudden move. It seemed so strange to be introduced formally like that to a man who had nearly killed her.

  Sebastian took a couple of steps towards her, and then stopped as he saw her recoil in alarm. A frown that Verity remembered vividly creased his brow, and the grey eyes became cold and withdrawn as he said shortly, ‘Miss Mitchell, I am most dreadfully sorry for what happened. Mother tells me that you weren’t hurt, but it must have been a terrible shock for you.’ He paused for a moment, but when she didn’t speak went on, ‘I can only repeat my apology. I’m afraid the sun was in my eyes and you were in the shadow. I was only aware of you at the very last second. In fact, at first I thought I must have been mistaken. It was only when I saw you hanging from the bridge that I realised what must have happened—’ He stopped rather abruptly, his mouth thinning, as if he didn’t enjoy the role of an apologist and already felt that he had said more than enough.

  For the life of her Verity couldn’t find anything to say to him. She could only stand, feeling angry and frustrated, and look into his cold eyes with fascinated fear. She was safe now, she knew that, but there was nothing in the least reassuring in Sebastian’s manner-even his apology had been uttered in an abrupt, aloof ionc.

  ‘I expect you’d like a drink.’

  ‘Verity, come and sit down.’

  Both Maggie and Paula broke into the heavy silence, Paula taking Verity’s arm and leading her to a settee. She sank on to it and took (he drink that Maggie held out to her. It was gin and it tasted good, but her hand trembled as she held the glass. She glanced up and found that Sebastian was watching her, a brooding expression on his face. She look another hasty gulp of the gin and was grateful when Paula, ever tactful, started asking questions about the house, drawing both Sebastian and Maggie
into the conversation and so giving Verity a chance to recover.

  But she still hadn’t said a word when they all went into dinner. Normally she would have been bug-eyed at the beauty of the panelled room with its paintings and Chinese carpet, the delicate lace tablecloth and the exquisite china, but tonight she hardly bothered to look around her before she sat down in her place.

  Maggie served the first course from a heated trolley. It was soup and it smelt good, but Verity found that she couldn’t eat. The others were still talking about the house, but she was unaware of what they were saying. All she heard was Sebastian’s deep voice speaking in a detached tone as if there was absolutely nothing the matter, as if he hadn’t just tried to run her down and injure her. It was an attractive voice, with that rich masculine timbre that some actors were fortunate enough to have, the sort of voice that could woo you with words.

  Suddenly fed up with pretending that everything was normal. Verity lifted her head and glared at him antagonistically. It disconcerted him. For a second Sebastian hesitated as he caught her glance, but it was only for a moment, and then he went on with what he was saying as smoothly as ever. But when he’d finished he turned to her and said, ‘I see your hands have dressings on them. Did that happen when you fell from the bridge?’

  In view of the look she’d thrown him, the question was almost a challenge. It also implied that it was her own fault. Verity’s chin came up and she said coldly, ‘You mean when you knocked me over? Yes, it did.’

  Paula gave her a shocked look and said hastily, ‘But they really aren’t too bad. It was mostly splinters that had gone deep. In a way I suppose she was lucky…’ Her voice trailed off as she encountered a fiery glance from Verity and there was an embarrassed silence.

  Into it Sebastian said in a decisive tone, ‘Verity is obviously still very upset, which is completely natural. She blames me for the accident and she is right to do so.’ He turned to look at her directly. ‘But I think it would be better for everyone if we tried to put it out of our minds for –—‘

  He would have continued, but Verity said angrily, ‘You mean just forget it ever happened?’

  ‘I wasn’t going to say forever. I merely meant for

  the present, at least until after dinner. I‘

  Bright spots of colour rose in her pale cheeks as Verity said sarcastically, ‘Oh, I agree that would be far more civilised, far more convenient—especially for you! But right now I don’t feel very conciliatory.’ She threw her napkin on to the table and began to stand up. ‘I’m sorry, Paula, I don’t feel like eating anything.’

  But Paula gave her an agonised look and grabbed her wrist. ‘You made me a promise. Remember?” she hissed in a fierce undertone.

  Verity looked at her mutinously for a moment, but then she realised how embarrassing and difficult it would be for Paula if she just abandoned her to her in-laws on her first evening at Layton House. Slowly, reluctantly, Verity sat down again; Paula had been nervous enough before, now that this had happened it would be even less fair to walk out on her, much as she hated the idea of having to be even remotely polite to Sebastian. But she was rewarded with a look of deep relief from Paula, who turned and began to talk to Maggie again.

  Picking up her bread roll from the side plate, Verity broke it into pieces, her head lowered. She felt cold, although the house was very warm. But the coldness was entirely anger at Sebastian’s high-handedness. OK, so he had apologised, but there had been no real concern in his voice. Verity thought he would probably have used the same tone for something utterly trivial, like treading on her toe. She glanced at him under her lashes and saw with annoyance that he seemed quite calm. As if he felt her eyes on him, Sebastian looked up, his lips thinning as he saw that she wasn’t making any attempt to eat.

  ‘I understand that you had trouble with your car on the way here?’ he remarked.

  The question was directed at Verity, but both Maggie and Paula paused in what they were saying while they listened for her answer, or perhaps to hear if she would answer at all. Verity knew that to make any kind of a reply to such a mundane remark would be an acceptance, an admission that she might be wrong and that it could have been an accident after all. She would have liked to just ignore Sebastian, or better still to tell him to go to hell, but she was fully aware of Paula’s inner anxiety, of the tension in her friend’s taut body beside her, and she knew that for her sake she must make some show of reconciliation. So she said heavily, ‘Yes, we had trouble with the petrol pump and had to have a new one fitted.’

  Paula gave an almost audible sigh of relief and resumed her conversation with Maggie, her voice lighter now. Verity had kept her eyes averted from Sebastian as she spoke, but she could almost feel his triumph. ‘Is it running all right now?’ he asked in a maddeningly conversational tone. ‘I could always get our local mechanic to check it over for you, if you’re at all worried.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Verity said crisply. ‘If I want ii looked at I can take it to a garage myself.’

  Sebastian nodded, ignoring the acidity of her tone. He shot her a glance, his grey eyes assessing the anger that still lingered in her flushed checks. ‘Perhaps you’d care for another roll,’ he said sardonically, and held the basket out to her.

  She was puzzled for a second, but then looked down at her plate and saw that her roll was now nothing but a pile of crumbs. Quickly she dropped the piece she was still holding, and put her hands in her lap, annoyed with herself for betraying weakness. Lifting her head, she shot Sebastian an angry gJare, but was surprised to see a small smile on his lips and a look almost of understanding in his eyes. Her heart gave a little jump, taken aback by this sudden change. It was as if an eagle had suddenly turned into a dove, a transformation that was as unexpected as it was unbelievable. Verity frowned, and thought that she would as soon trust a snake.

  The meal seemed to drag, although in fact was over very quickly, all four of them anxious to leave the confines of the table and the need to make small talk. Maggie suggested they have coffee in the drawing-room, but she had promised to show Paula the nursery lhat Simon had used as a child and Paula eagerly asked to go and see it at once.

  ‘Of course. It’s this way.’ And Maggie turned to go up the stairs.

  Verity was about to follow the other two women, but Sebastian put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Please; I’d like to talk to you.’

  His touch confused her. She tried to shake him off, but found his grip unexpectedly firm. She threw a hunted glance up to the landing where Paula and Maggie were just turning down the corridor, appartently oblivious of the fact that she wasn’t with them. ‘There’s really nothing you can say to me that will—’

  ‘But I think there is,’ Sebastian cut in smoothly and, still holding her arm, led her into the drawing-room and shut the door. He let her go then, but leant back against the door, watching her.

  She felt trapped, with him leaning against the door like that, his broad shoulders a physical bar. ‘Well, what is it you want to say to me?’ she snapped.

  ‘I’d just like to know why you’re so convinced that what happened this afternoon wasn’t an accident,’ Sebastian said bluntly. ‘I can’t even understand how you can think anything else.’

  This direct attack threw Verity for a moment, but her chin came up and she said, ‘I’m sure that you saw me, that you—’

  Sebastian gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘I’ve already explained that the sun was in my eyes. If you remember, it was very low in the sky at that time.’

  ‘Maybe it was,’ she admitted, ‘but you could have stopped or at least swerved out of the way.’

  An exasperated frown creased his brow. ‘But I didn’t see you, I tell you.’

  ‘You must have done. I saw you—perfectly clearly. And if I could see you, then you must have been able to see me.’

  He stared at her, his grey eyes intense. ‘Do you realise what you’re saying?’ he demanded harshly. ‘You’re accusing me of d
eliberately running you down. Perhaps even of trying to kill you.’

  Verity took a trembling breath. ‘Yes, I know.’

  His eyes widened incredulously. ‘And just why on earth should I want to do that? I’m not in the habit of running down complete strangers, you know,’ he added sarcastically.

  ‘No, I don’t know,’ Verity answered tartly. ‘I only have your word for it.’

  ‘Well, really! This is the outside of enough.’ Sebastian made an angry gesture with his arm and took a few strides round the room before coming to a menacing stop in front of her. ‘I just can’t understand why you’re so convinced,’ he said in mounting anger. ‘Why you won’t even begin to listen to me.’ He made a visible effort to control his temper and said, ‘Look, will you at least admit that it was possible for me not to have seen you when I was driving towards you with the sun shining into the windscreen and when you were standing in a block of shade?’

  Slowly Verity nodded. ‘Yes, I suppose that’s possible.’

  ‘Well, that’s something anyway. Now, you say that you saw me clearly. When was that?’

  ‘You know when.’ Sebastian gave her an angry glare and she said, ‘Oh, very well. It was in the few seconds when you came out of the sun into the shadow of the tree. I saw your face clearly then…’ Her features tightened as she remembered that look of fury in bis face and she raised wide, accusing eyes to meet his. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment.’

  He stared at her, shocked by the sudden emotion in her eyes and voice. ‘Why not?’ He put a hand on her arm, his face earnest. ‘Verity, please tell me why you’re so certain that I wilfully tried to do such a terrible thing to you.’

  She gazed into his face, aware only now of how lean and clear-cut his features were, and suddenly it seemed impossible for him to have done it deliberately. He was so self-controlled, so cool, so sane. Turning her head away, she said unsteadily, ‘In that moment when I saw your face, you—you looked so fierce, as if you were furiously angry. And you were looking straight at me! What else was I to think?