A Kind Of Madness. PENNY JORDAN
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desperately that they had waited until she arrived, she ignored Carter, turning her back on him and heading for the kitchen door.
To discover that it was not unlocked surprised her, and, while she was still staring at it in baffled fury, Carter stepped in front of her and inserted a key into the lock, deftly turning it and opening the door for her.
‘A small precaution I’ve persuaded your parents to take. They’re far too trusting.’
‘Yes, they are, aren’t they?’ Elspeth agreed through gritted teeth. Why was it that this man was making her feel an outsider, an interloper, a stranger almost in her own home, frustrating and obstructing her at every turn she took?
Suddenly her head started to ache. She felt dirty and tired, and she longed almost ridiculously to see her mother come bustling towards her, soothing her with the promise of a cup of tea and some of her home-made bread. Silly tears of anger and weakness clouded her eyes.
Fiercely she dashed them away. Heavens, she hadn’t cried since…since that episode in the bank’s staff-room, and she certainly wasn’t going to do so now, in front of this horrible, horrible man.
Abruptly moving past him, she headed for the door and the stairs, pausing only when she had opened it to say frostily to him, ‘Well, it was thoughtful of you to be here to welcome me and tell me that my parents have left, Carter, but now if you’ll excuse me I’m tired and rather grubby. I think I’ll go straight upstairs and get ready for bed.’
Not waiting to see how he had taken her dismissal, she went upstairs. All she wanted was for him to take himself off to wherever it was he was living. Tomorrow would be soon enough to try to come to terms with the enormity of her own idiocy. All right, so she had made a mistake—a natural one surely in the circumstances. He was lucky she hadn’t reported him to the police, hounding her like that. She bit her lip, wishing she wasn’t able to imagine the scene at the police station had she done so. Carter she was sure would have relished revealing his identity, making her look a complete fool.
Of course he must have known she wouldn’t recognise him. Why, it was over ten yeras since she had last seen him. Then he had had that thick, bushy beard and that wild, unkempt hair which had made him look unapproachable and rather dangerous.
He was still dangerous, to her parents anyway—but he was soon going to discover that she was a very different proposition, that she could see exactly what he was up to. Thank goodness Peter had had the wisdom to point out to her just what his motives might be.
Mingled with her exhaustion and her anger was another emotion, a sharp, dangerous emotion that hurt and ached, an emotion that made some secret place deep inside her heart feel sore and tender, and all because she had seen the amusement in his eyes when he’d informed her just why he had been following her, and she had known how much pleasure it had given him to refute her accusations. If he had said the words out aloud he couldn’t have made it plainer just how little possibility there was of his finding her attractive or desirable.
Quite why that should hurt she had no idea—nor did she want to know.
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