One Summer At The Castle. Jules Bennett
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very well, thank you.’ The woman cast a nervous glance over her shoulder. ‘Is there something I can help you with, Miss Chantry?’
‘I hope so, yes.’ Rosa smiled. ‘Is—er—is Mr Jameson about?’
It was a stupid question. Rosa knew that as soon as the words left her lips. Where else would he be?
‘Mr Jameson?’
The housekeeper sounded doubtful, and she hurried on, ‘Yes. I mean, is he working this morning? Or could I have a quick word with him?’
‘Oh, I—’ Once again Mrs Wilson looked back over her shoulder. ‘I’m afraid that’s not a question I can answer, Miss Chantry.’ She hesitated, and then went on, ‘You’d have to ask Mr Devlin.’ She nodded. ‘I’ll get him for you.’
‘No, I—’
Rosa started to say Sam Devlin was the last person she wanted to see, but it was too late. The woman had already turned and hurried away, leaving Rosa to cool her heels on the doorstep like some pushy double-glazing saleswoman.
She could have invited her inside, Rosa thought, disheartened. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been inside the castle before. For heaven’s sake, she’d spent a night here. Why was she being treated like an intruder?
Because that was what she was, she’d decided, when she heard Sam Devlin’s footsteps crossing the hall. She’d just nudged under the overhang, in a rather fruitless attempt to keep dry, but she stepped aback almost instinctively when the man appeared.
However, Sam was surprisingly more charitable than the housekeeper. ‘Och, come away inside, Miss Chantry,’ he exclaimed, stepping back to allow her to enter the huge hall. ‘It’s a wretched morning, to be sure. You’ll be wishing this storm would ease, no doubt. I dare say you’re eager to get back to the mainland?’
‘Yes.’ Rosa had little option other than to agree. ‘Um, I’m sorry to trouble you again, but I still haven’t spoken to Mr Jameson.’ She paused, and then went on rather recklessly, ‘You did give him my message, didn’t you?’
‘What message would that be, Miss Chantry?’
Rosa sighed. She should have known his charity wouldn’t stretch that far. ‘Well, that I wanted to speak to him again,’ she said stiffly. ‘If the ferry hadn’t been delayed, I’d be gone by now.’
‘So you would.’ Sam regarded her consideringly as he closed the heavy door. ‘But, contrary to what you believe, Miss Chantry, I did tell Mr Jameson what you’d said.’
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’ Rosa felt foolish now, and her face burned with sudden colour. ‘What you mean is, Mr Jameson didn’t want to speak to me, is that right?’ She swallowed her humiliation. ‘Well, that’s all right. I realise now I shouldn’t have bothered him.’ She turned back to the door. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
‘Wait!’ As she fumbled with the latch, Sam spoke again. ‘Look, Miss Chantry,’ he said, and now he sounded a little embarrassed, ‘I didn’t mean to imply that Liam had refused to speak to you. As a matter of fact I don’t know what he might have done if—if…’ He hesitated, as if he didn’t want to go on, but courtesy demanded it. ‘If he’d been able,’ he finished at last. Then, after another pause, ‘He—er—he hasn’t been too well since you left on Tuesday. And that’s the truth.’
Rosa was dismayed at the effect his words had on her. ‘Is it his leg?’ she asked, realising she was stepping onto unknown ground, but anxious enough to take the risk. She linked her cold fingers, pressing them at right angles to her chest. ‘Please—tell me.’
Sam frowned. ‘You know about his injuries?’ he asked warily, but Rosa wasn’t brave enough to claim that.
‘Just—just that he seems to be troubled at times,’ she admitted, shifting from one foot to the other. She stared at him. ‘Doesn’t he?’
‘Perhaps.’ Sam was noncommittal. ‘But as it happens he got soaked when he was out with the dogs on Tuesday afternoon, and since then he hasn’t felt very sociable.’
‘You mean he got a chill?’
Sam was evidently unhappy talking about his employer behind his back. ‘Something like that,’ he admitted at last. ‘As you’ve learned to your cost, the weather here can be unpredictable.’
‘You don’t mean it developed into pneumonia?’ exclaimed Rosa, aghast, and Sam gave a helpless shake of his head.
‘Och, no,’ he said half impatiently. ‘Nothing so dramatic. Just a—nasty cold, is all.’ He paused, and then added ruefully, ‘Liam’s no’ a good patient, Miss Chantry.’
‘Do you want to tell me what the hell’s going on?’
The unexpected sound of Liam’s voice caused them both to start in alarm, and Sam instantly looked as guilty as hell. ‘God, man,’ he protested in a shaken voice. ‘Do you have to scare us half to death? I didn’t hear you.’
‘Obviously not.’ Liam left his position at the foot of the tower stairs and walked heavily towards them. He noticed that Rosa was looking as if he was the last person she’d expected to see, and that annoyed the hell out of him. This was his house, dammit. Who had she expected to see? ‘What’s happening?’
Rosa gazed at him in total confusion. After what Sam had been saying, she’d imagined Liam weak and vulnerable, worn out by coughing and sneezing and blowing his nose.
But the reality was much different. In his usual tight jeans, the fabric worn almost white in places she wasn’t supposed to look, and a long-sleeved silk shirt, the colour of which exactly matched his eyes, he looked darkly disturbing—and just as dangerous as Luther Killian, she was sure.
‘Miss Chantry—’ began Sam, but Rosa knew she couldn’t allow the older man to take the blame for her intrusion.
‘I came to see you,’ she broke in quickly, allowing her arms to fall to her sides. ‘Mr Devlin was just telling me that—that you hadn’t been well.’
‘I just told her you had a cold,’ exclaimed Sam swiftly, and Rosa wondered at the look that passed between the two men at that moment. ‘That’s all.’
‘Yeah.’ Liam accepted his explanation. Whatever faults he might have, Sam was excessively loyal. He wouldn’t talk about Liam’s private affairs with anyone.
He returned his gaze to Rosa, noticing that she was shivering now. But whether that was because she was only wearing a light jacket or because he’d frightened her, he couldn’t be sure. ‘Well, Miss Chantry,’ he said pleasantly. ‘You’d better come with me.’
Rosa’s eyes were wide and anxious. ‘All right,’ she said, giving Sam a grateful look. ‘Thanks for your help, Mr Devlin.’
Sam stiffened. ‘It was my pleasure, Miss Chantry,’ he insisted. Then, as she started after Liam, ‘Will you be wanting a lift later?’
‘Oh, no.’ Rosa gave him a tight smile. ‘I borrowed Mrs Ferguson’s car. But thanks, anyway.’
Sam nodded, then, addressing himself to his employer, he added, ‘Will I ask Mrs Wilson to bring coffee?’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ agreed Liam, and Sam gave her another searching look before disappearing through a door below the tapestries at the side of the hall.
‘You’ve made a conquest,’ remarked Liam drily, gesturing for her to precede him up the stairs, and she frowned.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I do. Sam’s not usually so talkative, believe me. Not with women, anyway.’
Rosa shook her head, starting up the stairs. Following her, Liam was intensely aware of the rounded curve of her bottom swaying with every step she climbed. She might be slim,