An Old Enchantment. AMANDA BROWNING
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and faces. I’m sure we must have had a very pleasant conversation, and perhaps we can talk it over later, but—’
‘Devereaux.’
His interruption halted her mid-flow, and she blinked up at him in surprise. ‘I beg your pardon?’
His smile was icy. ‘There’s no need. Just spare me the bored socialite bit.’
Completely thrown, she could only continue to gawp at him. ‘W-what...?’
‘Devereaux is my name. Kerr Devereaux,’ he went on hardly, his Christian name sounding like the everyday ‘car’. ‘There’s no need to tell me who you are—we have long memories around here. I recognised you at once. Maxi Ambro, the advertiser’s dream. Well, let me tell you something, Maxi, you picked one hell of a time to do your prodigal daughter act. Why don’t you do everyone a great big favour and go back where you came from?’
Maxi went cold to her heart. If a complete stranger felt this way about her, what would the reaction of her family be? Automatically she stiffened her spine in preparation for the confrontation that was coming. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t let this man make her turn tail and run.
‘You’re right, Mr Devereaux, I don’t remember you. But even if I did, you don’t have the right to send me away. Only my family can do that,’ she told him icily.
‘You’d give them the satisfaction of telling you to your face?’ Kerr Devereaux studied her stiff figure once more. ‘You’ve got guts.’
If she hadn’t had, the past seven years would never have been. ‘Isn’t there a local school of thought who consider it’s what I deserve?’ she retorted cynically, allowing a small careless smile to curl her lips.
He didn’t like her reaction, that was for sure. ‘There is, and I’m a founder member of it.’
Maxi laughed. She could have bet money on that. So, he didn’t think she was suitably repentant? Hadn’t paid all her dues? He knew nothing, nor ever would. Nor would he ever see her crawl. ‘Don’t tell me, you’re the local Pooh-Bah, are you? Self-appointed, naturally.’
‘For someone with a brain the size of a pea, you spout a fine line in sarcasm,’ he sniped, straightening.
Her teeth snapped together audibly. ‘You’re not so bad in the insult line yourself,’ she riposted, and caught the flash of his teeth as his smile broadened.
‘Well, honey, I tell you, I just look at you and I’m inspired,’ he drawled, raking a hand through hair that glinted blue-black in the late afternoon sunlight.
Maxi’s patience was becoming dangerously thin. She had been nervous enough without this. Stranger or not, his barbs found their mark. ‘Just who are you, Mr Devereaux?’
‘So it’s true what they say—out of sight, out of mind,’ he mocked.
That was the last straw. ‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this stupid cat-and-mouse game!’ she declared, and, turning, reached into the back of her car for her case and handbag.
Kerr Devereaux eyed the former in acid amusement. ‘A suitcase? I hope you weren’t planning on a long stay; you may be disappointed. Or has fame gone to your head? Didn’t it occur to you that you might not be wanted?’
Lifting her case, she threw him a glare. ‘Mr Devereaux, you are, without doubt, the most obnoxious man it’s ever been my misfortune to meet! You clearly don’t want my company, so let me relieve you of it!’ It was a good line to end on, and with a falsely sweet smile she strode away. Or tried to. Unfortunately her second step brought her on to her left leg. Pain shot through her hip, and with a cry of alarm, she felt it go under her.
Before she could touch the ground though, strong hands caught her under her arms and yanked her upright again. ‘What happened?’
The impartial concern in his voice brought colour to her pale cheeks. How stupid to have forgotten her weakened hip! Now she had him to thank for not landing in an undignified heap on the ground. Why did fate have to be so unkind? Pulling free of his hold, she gritted her teeth.
‘It must have been a stone. I’m OK now.’ Mentally keeping her fingers crossed, she tested her weight on the injured leg and breathed in sharply as it protested.
‘Some stone,’ Kerr observed drily, slipping a hand around her waist and taking her weight.
‘I don’t need your help,’ Maxi protested, to no avail. ‘I can manage!’ This as he relieved her forcibly of her case.
Grey eyes lanced into her. ‘You can manage to crawl. Is that what you want?’
He knew the answer as well as she did. She’d rather die! ‘No,’ she gritted out.
Now his eyes danced as he fended off her daggers. ‘And they tell me you were such an angelic child. Who’d have thought you’d turn out to be such a bitch?’
Lord, he made her blood boil. ‘Haven’t you heard that if you can’t say something nice about somebody, don’t say anything at all?’ she sniped witheringly.
‘There are exceptions to every rule,’ he shot back swiftly. ‘How’s the leg now?’
Swerved from her intention of lobbing a pithy reply, Maxi tested her weight instead. This time there was no shaft of pain, just the well-known dull ache. ‘It’s much better,’ she said, looking up, and added grudgingly, ‘Thanks.’
He watched her take a few experimental, limping steps. ‘So, what happened to your leg?’
Rubbing at the aching joint, Maxi sighed. ‘I was in an accident a couple of months ago. The brakes failed on my car.’
Kerr’s frown of concern was genuine. ‘This one?’ His finger jabbed at the white convertible.
‘Hardly,’ Maxi admitted with a wry laugh. ‘That was a write-off. I was lucky I just hurt my leg.’ Something of an understatement, when it had been broken in several places. ‘I had to get this automatic because I still can’t put too much strain on my leg. As you may have noticed. It plays up when I’ve been sitting or standing too long.’
‘You’re lucky it wasn’t your face,’ he observed, and her smile faded.
‘Wasn’t I?’ she agreed, unaware that her too composed features revealed more than they concealed. All she did know was that nothing happened without a purpose. It had been a kind of short, sharp shock, making her take stock of her life and where she wanted it to go. But before she could go on, the past had to be laid to rest.
Which brought her back sharply to the present. ‘Where is everybody?’ she thought to ask rather belatedly.
‘Out on the terrace, I should imagine,’ Kerr Devereaux offered, setting her case and handbag aside. ‘You’d better leave those here for now. We can go round the side.’
‘You seem to be pretty familiar with the house. And you still haven’t explained who you are,’ Maxi challenged as he took her by the arm and steered her around the building.
‘I’m familiar with it because I’m a frequent visitor here. As for who I am...’ His voice took on an odd inflexion. ‘You’ll find out any minute now. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when the flak starts flying,’ he added cryptically, and said no more.
Maxi’s shoes beat a staccato tattoo on the stone flags as she walked beside him, mind seething with question, but as they came round to the back of the house she stopped wondering who he was and concentrated instead on the group of people on the terrace. If it was a party, then it was a very small one. As yet, none of the four had heard their approach, and she was given a few seconds’ grace to study the three members of her family. Her heart contracted. Her father looked so much older. His hair had turned grey and there were deep lines on his intelligent face. Beside him, her mother looked very little altered, save for two wings of grey at her temples.
Maxi didn’t recognise