Green Lightning. Anne Mather
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and wish him good morning as if last night had never happened.
‘Helen!’ His attractively low-pitched use of her name almost made her relent, but she continued to stroke Niko’s head, ignoring his sound of impatience, ‘Helen, I want to talk to you. Have the decency to turn round and face me!’
Helen turned round abruptly, spreading her arms along the wooden rails at either side of her, facing him mutinously. ‘Well?’ she said insolently. ‘What do you want? Have you invited Miss Patterson to go riding with you, and you want me to go along as chaperone? I’m sorry, I don’t feel like riding today.’
Heath regarded her through narrowed lids. In a dark green corded jerkin and matching corded pants, he looked unconscionably attractive, and a curious pain stirred in the pit of her stomach as she met his concentrated gaze.
‘Now, that’s a pity,’ he remarked. ‘Because I was going to invite you to go riding. But naturally, if you don’t feel like it …’
Helen’s lips compressed indignantly. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘It’s what you said, not me.’
‘No, you know what I mean.’ She moved her head to avoid Niko’s affectionate nuzzling. ‘I don’t believe you intended to take me riding. You’re not even dressed for it.’
Heath shrugged. ‘I can ride in these clothes as well as any others.’ His mouth curved. ‘Do I take it you would like to go riding after all?’
She shrugged, looking down at the legs of her cotton dungarees. ‘Is Miss Patterson invited?’
‘No.’
‘No?’ She looked up.
‘No,’ he agreed, glancing behind him into the yard. ‘Now, do you want to go or don’t you? I don’t have that much time.’
Helen withdrew her arms from their defiant stance and sniffed. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Okay.’ Heath stepped to one side. ‘You’ll find McLintock’s already saddled Marnie. You go and find him while I attend to Niko.’
She stopped beside him indignantly. ‘You were so sure I’d come, weren’t you?’
Heath stepped past her. ‘Stop wasting time,’ he advised shortly. ‘I’ve got to be in Bradford by ten o’clock.’
Helen wanted to refuse. She wanted to tell him to go ride himself, but she didn’t. It was an opportunity of being alone with him she couldn’t bear to miss, and she was waiting on Marnie’s back when he led the black hunter out of its stall.
A gate beyond the stable yard gave access to the fields and parkland surrounding Matlock Edge. Helen had known Heath take that gate in full stride, but this morning he leant down to open it, allowing both horses through before re-securing the catch.
It was a glorious morning, the sun already giving some hint of the warmth of the day to come. Helen thought there was nowhere like England on an early summer morning, and although Heath had taken her to France and Italy, she still preferred the English countryside to those hotter foreign beaches.
Giving Marnie his head, she allowed the animal to take her at a gallop across the sloping meadow, hearing the low thunder of Niko’s hooves behind her. For the moment, at least, Heath was prepared to give himself up to the enjoyment of the ride, and contentment spread, like wildfire, throughout her whole body. But eventually he caught up with her, exhibiting with ease the hunter’s superior strength, and leaning across, reined Marnie in beside him.
‘Right,’ he said, ‘let’s talk, shall we? Pleasant as this is, I do have work to do.’
Helen hesitated a moment and then pointed to the thin ribbon of water flowing over rocks some few yards ahead of them. ‘Let’s dismount and sit by the stream,’ she suggested, already digging her heels into Marnie’s sides to urge him forward, and after a brief pause Heath followed her.
‘All right,’ he said, ‘if this suits you. Personally, I’d prefer to stay in the saddle. The grass is wet.’
‘It’s only dew,’ exclaimed Helen, sliding down from Marnie’s back. ‘Hmm, it smells delicious. Don’t you think so?’
Heath shrugged, swinging his leg across the pommel and jumping down beside her. ‘I can think of sweeter things,’ he remarked drily, avoiding some wild creature’s droppings, and walking to the edge of the water. ‘You know I used to fish here, when I was little. I never could understand why I never caught anything.’
‘Perhaps you used the wrong bait,’ said Helen, coming to stand beside him. ‘I used to paddle here, when Mrs Gittens would let me.’ She grinned up at him. ‘She was once livid because I stripped all my clothes off.’
Heath looked down at her drily. ‘You have a habit of doing that, don’t you?’ he observed, and her cheeks turned pink. ‘It’s one of the things I’m hoping Angela will cure you of. That, and a few other practices we won’t go into now.’
Helen pursed her lips. ‘Is that why you brought me here? To talk about Angela Patterson?’
‘Among other things,’ he conceded, ignoring her sudden tension. ‘You must have guessed that was what I wanted. I think you need to understand the situation.’
‘Oh, I understand the situation all right,’ muttered Helen tautly. ‘You made it perfectly clear last night. I’m to learn to do as I’m told and keep my mouth shut. Isn’t that a fair description of the situation?’
‘No, it’s not.’ Heath spoke with some heat. ‘Helen, you’re not trying to be reasonable. I invited Angela Patterson to Matlock Edge to teach you the things a mother might have taught you—to help you to dress, how to act in company, how to behave like the lady I thought I’d brought you up to be. It wasn’t intended to deteriorate into a slanging competition. I’d hoped you might like one another. And I still have hopes of that, even though you tried last night to make Angela look stupid!’
‘I didn’t have to try very hard, did I?’ demanded Helen tensely, aware that the tears she had shed yesterday had by no means drained the reservoir. ‘You can’t believe all that stuff she told you about jobs and everything! I don’t believe she’s even looked for one. She was just waiting for someone like you.’
‘It really doesn’t matter whether I believe it or not,’ said Heath surprisingly, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Angela Patterson’s history is of no particular interest to me.’
Helen frowned. ‘But if she was lying—–’
‘Helen!’ He turned to her then, shaking his head half impatiently when he saw the tears glistening in her eyes. ‘I know all about Angela. You don’t imagine I’d let a stranger come to live in my house without checking her out first?’
‘You mean—–’
‘I mean I want you to listen to her. I want you to learn from her. And the first thing I want you to do is go with her to Manchester and let her choose you some new clothes. Feminine clothes,’ he added, surveying the dungarees with evident distaste. ‘I’ve neglected my duties too long. I should never have let you persuade me to let you leave school.’
Helen felt a glimmer of hope. ‘You mean you’re going to spend more time with me?’ she asked, allowing her slim fingers to curve impulsively about his sleeve. ‘Oh, Heath I’m sorry if I’ve made a fool of myself. I didn’t realise what you were doing.’ And then, before he could draw his hands out of his pockets to prevent her, or step back out of reach, she stretched up on her toes and kissed him, her eager lips seeking and finding his startled mouth.
Because he had been about to speak, his lips were parted, and she had to part her lips, too, to accommodate them. It was intended to be a kiss of gratitude, no more, a simple pressure to show him she intended to turn over