A Masterful Man

CHAPTER FIVE

Lunch was apparently successful.

Davina declined an invitation to join them, saying she'd already had hers, and got the impression that both Mrs Warwicks were hungry enough to be somewhat mellowed during the meal. Then Loretta took herself upstairs for a short siesta, as she put it; Lavinia took the second Land Rover to see a friend, inviting Candice to join her but she refused surlily, so her grandmother left with a haughty look.

Half an hour later, Davina was aware of Candice mooching around moodily and decided this might be one of the times when she should act as a babysitter.

'Did you bring any games with you, Candice?'

'Like what?'

'Snakes and Ladders, Monopoly-I thought we might play something together.'

'I grew out of Snakes and Ladders years ago,' Candice said scornfully. 'Besides, I don't like playing with grownups. I don't like grown-ups much at all, if you want to know.'

'Is that so? Oh, well, we all have things we like and don't like, I guess.'

A spark of interest lit Candice's eyes behind her glasses. 'Don't you mind if I don't like you?'

'Not at all,' Davina said cheerfully, and walked away.

Ten minutes later, Candice sidled into the laundry where Davina was scrubbing her sand-shoes, trying to rid them of the mud stains they'd collected on Mount Lidgbird, and asked her what she was doing.

Davina explained.

'Well, when you've finished, I suppose we could play something,' Candice said grudgingly. 'I've got nothing else to do and Mum will sleep for hours,' she added darkly. 'She's a night person, she says.'

Davina made no comment, but eyed her shoes critically. 'Something tells me they'll never be the same again,' she murmured. 'Why don't we go for a swim, instead?'

A further spark of interest showed. 'Steve's the only person who takes me swimming,' Candice said. 'When he can tear himself away from work. Mum can't swim and Gran says she's too old. Mum does lie on the beach a lot, though, getting a tan and catching the eye of all the men around. But she hardly ever gets herself wet. I'm not a very good swimmer.'

'I see. I am,' Davina remarked.

'So you'd come right in with me?'

'All the way.'

'OK, if it's what you want.'

They rode to Ned's Beach, and for an hour or so Candice became like any ordinary little girl, giggling and squealing with enjoyment while she clung to Davina and they fed the fish that zoomed in on them as soon as they entered the water, then had some swimming lessons in the gentle swell. Ned's was a protected beach, unlike Blinkys. Then they put their shoes on and went over to inspect the colony of Sooty Terns that made their home among the rocks at the foot of Malabar Hill on the northern end of Ned's Beach.

'It's amazing how close you can get to them, isn't it?' 'Boy!' Candice said admiringly. 'There's hundreds of them.'

'I should have brought my camera,' Davina said ruefully.

They had an ice-cream on the way home, and had just got off their bikes to walk up the last hill when Steve Warwick pulled up behind them.

'Well, girls,' he said lightly, 'I couldn't have come at a better time. What have you two been up to?'

Candice told him enthusiastically as he hitched their bikes on to the back of the Land Rover, and he watched her glowing little face for a moment then raised an eyebrow at Davina. 'You've done well, by the sound of it, Mrs Hastings-my compliments.'

'What does that mean?' Candice asked as she climbed into the back seat.

'Nothing at all,' he replied and drove off.

Davina said nothing at all.

Candice, on encountering her grandmother when they got home, said plenty, however, still in the same enthusiastic vein, and caused that lady to regard Davina thoughtfully.

Which was probably why she wasn't as successful at ducking out of dinner, she reflected later.

'I insist you join us for this meal, Davina,' Lavinia said grandly, sweeping into the kitchen about ten minutes before Davina was due to dish up.

'Thank you, but-'

'But me no buts, my dear. I too am a person who knows my own mind and I'm about to set another place at the table.' She pulled open a drawer and clanked cutlery vigorously. 'Has Steven made any mention of you eating separately?'

'No, it's entirely my own decision, Mrs Warwick. I have certain practices when I'm on a job, and this is one of them.'

Lavinia snorted. 'Then I'll get him to ask you himself.'

'Ask her what?' Steve Warwick strolled into the kitchen.

His grandmother placed her hands on her hips. 'This silly girl insists on eating on her own. I've decided I won't even hear of it.'

'She is the housekeeper; it's probably a fairly common practice for housekeepers not to-'

'There are housekeepers and housekeepers,' Lavinia interrupted. 'It's perfectly plain to me that Davina is a rather superior kind of housekeeper but, that aside, who are we to stand on ceremony?'

'I'm simply slayed by your logic, beloved,' Steve Warwick murmured, and turned to Davina, amusement twisting his lips. 'It's up to you.'

'How can you be so lily-livered, Steven? Tell her to come!'

'Davina.' There was open laughter in his eyes now. 'Could you please see your way to rescuing me from this little contretemps?'

Davina breathed exasperatedly. 'Very well.'

'That's my girl,' he murmured, and swung back to his grandmother. 'Happy now?'

'Extremely, although why I had to go to all those lengths-'

'Come and have a drink, Lavinia,' he interrupted, and led her out of the kitchen.

'Why do I have the feeling I've strayed into a madhouse?' Davina muttered to herself.

'Probably because you and I are the only two sane people in the place.' Davina jumped. Steve was standing right behind her. 'Why do you keep doing that?' she said irately. 'I came back for some ice-I was not creeping up on you, if that's what you thought. But you know, I complimented you on Candice this afternoon-may I now say that to have impressed my grandmother the way you have is… extremely impressive. How did you do it?' He looked at her, his eyes dancing with devilry.

'I… she seems to think I know my own mind, which is something she admires in a person, apparently,' Davina said carefully.

'Well, she's right about that, I can vouch for it,' he said ruefully. 'But I also have the feeling that, were she to know the implacability of…certain of your mental processes, she would take a very different view of things.' Davina frowned. 'What do you mean?' 'I think,' he drawled, 'I'll let you work that one out for yourself, Mrs Hastings-I see you're no longer wearing your wedding-ring, incidentally.' Davina glanced down at her hand. 'No. I… no.' 'Well, that might set the cat among the pigeons but- who knows?' And he withdrew the silver ice bucket from the fridge and walked out with it.

Davina stared after him, shook her head dazedly once then thought, It is a madhouse, and you're wrong about one thing-I might be the only sane person in it.

The next couple of days proved several things to Davina. While she wouldn't exactly accuse Loretta of being a lousy mother, she was certainly a bit unhandy at it. She seemed not to be aware that if you laid down rules, you needed to stick to them, with the result, or so it appeared to Davina, that a lot of Candice's tantrums arose from sheer confusion. And it appeared to her that Lavinia exploited this quite shamelessly at times. But there was also very genuine affection for the child.

As for the animosity between the two Mrs Warwicks, while Loretta never appeared to be too fazed by her mother-in-law's barbed remarks, she could always be relied upon to retaliate in a lazy yet telling way. But more and more Davina got the feeling that behind Loretta's lazy smile and undoubtedly lazy ways at times there lurked shrewdness and intelligence. Of the fact that she had any intention of converting her mother-in-law to a Dutchman, there was little evidence. At times she amused Steve, at times she exasperated him, but there were no overt displays of trying to engage his interest with a view to matrimony.

So for a few days Davina ran the household successfully, and worked her way discreetly through the minefield of the Lavinia-Loretta saga by taking Candice off their hands as much as possible. She took the little girl on some photographic expeditions, back to Malabar where they shot the Sooty Terns, to the swamp at the Blinkys end of the runway and out on a glass-bottomed boat expedition where they snorkelled together over the coral in the lagoon and marvelled at the fish-and made Davina long to own an underwater camera. Sometimes, they just got off their bikes and sat in the lush grass and absorbed the views and the lovely clear air.

It did dawn on Davina during these days that Lavinia was trying to find out as much as she could about her background, also that she was rather wily about eliciting information. So that, without Davina quite knowing how she'd done it, Lavinia came to know where she'd been to school-and approved-to know that she'd spent six months overseas with her mother when she'd left school-again approved-to know all about her catering course and to know a bit about her photographic ambitions. This she approved of vigorously. She also managed to draw forth Davina's taste in music, literature and art, her knowledge of current affairs and her opinions and she once said that Davina was obviously well-brought-up, well-informed and had most of the ingredients to be a woman of style and perception as well as amazingly capable. But, beyond a lurking amusement at this process, Davina hadn't given it much thought- for one thing she simply hadn't the time. For another, a lot of her spare thoughts seemed to centre around Steve Warwick, to her dismay, but there was nothing she could do about it, she found.

He seemed to have taken her at her word and she was horrified to find herself remembering what he'd said about pique. Was she piqued? Surely not. So what was she…? But that was even harder to deal with, unless, she thought starkly once, you admitted to yourself that you just couldn't forget the feel of his arms, his lips… certainly not when you virtually lived in the same house with him, encountered him several times a day and so could never free yourself from the impact of his strong, streamlined body, his hands… Stop it, she told herself. Just… stop it.

But she got caught more than thinking it once. He came home one day with a fine catch of kingfish; it was a beautiful evening, so she scrapped her plans for a veal casserole for dinner-it would keep anyway-and while he lit the barbecue she filleted the fish and made salads. They had a wonderful barbecue beneath the Southern Cross. For once, Loretta and Lavinia seemed able to bear each other's presence; Steve asked Candice to help him cook the fish and she grew almost visibly in stature. But Davina was suddenly attacked by a sense of the vastness of the ocean all around them, and her general insignificance in the great plan of things. It came on towards the end of the meal, fortunately, so no one noticed when she got up rather abruptly to clear up; in fact everyone helped. But she was the last to go to bed, or so she thought, and was lingering in the dim, quiet, clean kitchen-lingering because she didn't trust herself to the loneliness of her chalet-when Steve came in.

From the way he raised an eyebrow she guessed he'd thought the same as she: that he was the only one up. He said quite normally, 'Still around, Davina? I'll have to start paying you overtime.'

And she was furious to discover herself pinned to the spot, her heart beating heavily with an intense longing, her body bereft and aching because his hands weren't on it, the remembered feel of his body against her like a blueprint in her mind and upon her skin.

'Something-wrong?' he said, after a long moment, his gaze narrowing and drifting down to her breasts beneath the white T-shirt she wore with blue shorts, to her long bare legs-and, to her supreme embarrassment, she started to bring her arms up to cross them in a defensive gesture that was also a dead giveaway…

'No,' she said, but her voice was hoarse as her hands sank to her sides. She cleared her throat and started to turn away. 'No, nothing. Goodnight.'

'Goodnight, Davina,' he replied, and although she couldn't identify what it was, something in the way he'd said it made her feel sure he'd known exactly what had happened to her.

She locked herself into her chalet and didn't know why. She put her hands to her face and tried to block out Steve Warwick, but it didn't work. She was tormented by so many things about him: the golden hairs on his arms and legs, the tendency to freckles and the way his dark red-brown hair grew. How it had been to lie against him in the shallows at Blinkys and feel the unmistakable response of his body to hers, the rapture and delight of being kissed by him.

She pushed herself away from the door and, to her grim amusement, went to take a cold shower while she wondered how she was going to get through one more day let alone roughly another twenty-one.

She was saved from herself the next day by Steve Warwick at his very worst. It all started when one of his charter boats, due to an error of judgement by the skipper, ran aground and had to have its passengers transferred to another boat, and be towed home.

Despite the fact that no one was really in any danger, there were other boats in the area and the rescue-boat was quickly on the scene, his anger was awesome.

And when the unfortunate skipper came to the house to make his report, Davina, who was baking a cake and biscuits, couldn't help but be in earshot as Steve explained in the coldest, most cutting terms she'd ever heard that the fact that everyone was safe meant nothing, that the potential for a disaster that could ruin not only his business but the reputation of the island as a holiday destination was what mattered… and so on.

And, when the poor man finally stumbled out, pale and shaken, she couldn't help but feel some sympathy for him-probably because she knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Steve Warwick's anger and deadly brand of savage sarcasm. Not that she would have dreamt of saying so, but when he proceeded to take out his feelings on them all, she unwittingly intervened.

It was a wet, gloomy afternoon, which was why she'd decided to make more of a ritual of afternoon tea than usual. Lavinia sampled the cake, pronounced it mouthwatering and said, 'Steve would like some of this.' Steve was still closeted in his study.

Loretta looked at her with wry amusement. 'Then we'll nominate you to take it in to him, Lavinia.'

Lavinia glanced at her coldly, but, to her credit, did say, 'I think we should draw straws.'

And before Davina, who'd gone to fetch some hot water, realised what was happening, Candice had taken up the idea and Davina found herself drawing a short straw and then having to ask its significance.

'Thank you,' she said with considerable irony to Loretta and Lavinia. 'If you want my opinion, we should leave him be.'

'Ah, but Lavinia is of the opinion that your wonderful cake might just sweeten him up,' Loretta murmured.

Davina opened her mouth to say that she had good reason to want to stay outside a hundred-mile radius of Steve Warwick, for reasons that had nothing to do with today, but she caught a look echoed in both their eyes that was oddly curious. Damn, she thought, don't tell me they're cottoning on…? And she straightened her shoulders and went to prepare a smaller tray with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

'What's this?'

'Afternoon tea,' Davina said politely in reply to his curt query and, although she couldn't help being a bit taken aback by the harsh lines his face was still set in as he'd looked up from his desk, she couldn't resist adding when she should have just left it with him, 'Your grandmother thought… you'd like some.'

'Well, take no notice of her in future, Davina. I'll tell you what I like and don't. You can take it away. Tea is the last thing I need at the moment,' he added scathingly. She felt her temper rising and cursed herself for being jockeyed into this position against her better judgement-all of which combined to make her say, with deceptive gentleness, 'Aren't you being a bit childish,

Mr Warwick? None of us ran your boat aground-'

'And aren't you taking just a little too much upon yourself, Mrs Hastings?' He overrode her swiftly. 'You're only the damned housekeeper, as you so often persist in reminding me!'

By a huge effort of will, as their gazes clashed and a wave of colour came to her cheeks at the insolence and mockery she saw in his eyes, Davina restrained herself and did the only other thing possible. She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving the tea with him, and even managed to look rueful but calm as she walked back into the den. 'Not a good idea?' Loretta queried.

'No. He's still behaving like a spoilt child,' she said cheerfully, and thought privately that she deserved an Oscar. 'We'll just have to ride it out.'

It was Lavinia, after staring at Davina particularly thoughtfully for a moment, who said, 'He does have an awful temper sometimes, but once it's over it's over. He doesn't bear grudges.'

Ah, but I do, Davina thought to herself later. Thank heavens! I'm back to hating him…

Lavinia's prediction was correct, however. The next day he was back to normal, although he didn't apologise to anyone, but it was at dinner that evening that another bombshell exploded.

The meal commenced with a fight.

Loretta sent Candice up to change into a dress rather than the T-shirt she had simply added to her swimmers, causing Candice to tell her mother roundly that she hated her and Lavinia to tell Loretta that it was her duty to see that her only child was correctly attired before they came to the table.

But, just when things looked as if they could get out of hand, Steve, who had been delayed by the telephone, arrived, took stock of the situation and said coolly and cuttingly, 'You'll do as you're told, Candice, and you two will stop squabbling because I'm running out of patience, I warn you.'

Everyone subsided and Davina dished up fragrant, delicious lemon chicken on a bed of fluffy white rice.

'You're just a marvellous cook,' Loretta said warmly to her, halfway through the course.

'I have to agree with you there,' Lavinia said, and said it only slightly grudgingly.

Steve murmured, 'Glory be!' but only audibly to Davina who was opposite him. He also smiled into her eyes, the tiniest, wickedest little smile that was gone before anyone could take note of it, at least Davina fervently hoped so because it acted rather like an electric shock on her nerve-ends.

It was Candice who then unwittingly dropped the bombshell. 'How come, if you're a Mrs, you haven't got a ring or a husband, Davina?'

'She's not a Mrs!' Lavinia said decisively.

'She is-Steve called her Mrs Hastings the other day, didn't you, Steve?'

'Here we go-she is actually, she's divorced,' he said mildly to no one in particular, but then sat back and watched his grandmother's reaction.

'Divorced!' Lavinia said right on cue. 'My dear girl! How come?'

Davina stopped eating and wished herself a hundred miles away again, as well as feeling a flicker of annoyance-why was it anyone's business? Why on earth should it be affording Lavinia such consternation? Why, above all, was Steve actually enjoying this? 'It was a mistake,' she said coolly. 'We were… completely ill-suited, as it turned out.' And she resumed eating as if to say, and that's that.

That wasn't that. 'Were you very young?' Lavinia queried.

'Twenty,' Steve said gravely.

'Did he sweep you off your feet-was he a lot older?'

'I…' Davina looked fleetingly into Lavinia's eyes that were the same hazel as her grandson's and sighed inwardly. 'Something like that,' she murmured.

'No children?' the old lady asked autocratically.

'No children,' Davina agreed.

Lavinia was silent for about two minutes as she chewed some chicken thoroughly and apparently chewed the whole matter of Davina's divorce over at the same time, until finally she said, 'Well, I don't hold with it much, I have to be honest, but on the other hand it would be… unchristian to deny that people do make honest mistakes and they shouldn't be penalised for them for the rest of their lives. Someone as lovely as you, too, Davina, would be rather at the mercy of unscrupulous men I would imagine. So-have there been any other men since?'

Davina breathed deeply and put her knife and fork together. 'Mrs Warwick, I must protest-'

'No, there haven't,' Steve Warwick interrupted.

'And how do you know that, Steve?' his grandmother asked of him haughtily.

'I-er-made the same enquiries of Mrs Hastings when she first arrived,' he replied.

'Well, then,' Lavinia said almost genially after a moment's thought, 'I think we can close the subject, Davina. Yes, I think we can. Of course, I'd prefer it not to have happened, but-' she shrugged '-one can't always have everything. Would there be any of that delicious chicken left?'

Davina caught herself staring at the old lady with her mouth open and the thought running through her mind that perhaps all the madness she'd noted a few days before was infectious.

'I would just go with the flow,' Steve remarked barely audibly at that point, and Loretta, who had followed everything with an odd little twinkle in her eye, said, 'Oh, I agree.'

Davina started to say something along the lines of, If I knew what you were all talking about it might help-but she shrugged slightly instead and rose to offer everyone second helpings of the chicken.

It was during dessert that Davina suddenly became aware of who Loretta was. The conversation had, thankfully, become generalised until Steve asked Loretta how business was going.

'Loretta is a dressmaker, Davina,' Lavinia supplied.

Loretta looked at her ruefully. 'I always rack my brains for a way to refute that, but of course it's true.'

'You don't actually make them yourself now, though,' Steve said wryly.

'No-'

'Not… Loretta C?' Davina said suddenly, her eyes widening.

Loretta glowed. 'How marvellously gratifying-and you are quick on the uptake, Davina!'

'I've worn some of your clothes-although not lately,' she said. 'Your ballgowns are stunning.'

'Thank you! I think so too, but it's lovely to hear others say so.'

'They also cost an arm and a leg,' Lavinia said primly.

'Quality tends to be expensive.'

'And before we start exchanging hostilities again,' Steve said, rising, 'thank you for a wonderful meal, Davina.' He also had the gall to add, with a perfectly straight face, 'Would I get something thrown at me if I asked for some coffee in my study?'

Loretta came into the kitchen just as Davina had finished cleaning up for the night. From the sounds she could hear, Lavinia and Candice were watching television in the den and Steve was apparently still working in his study.

'Is it too late to make myself a last cuppa?' Loretta asked. 'Not at all!' Davina smiled at her. 'I'm not some ogre of a housekeeper.'

Loretta grinned back. 'Why don't you join me, then? It's such a balmy night we could sit outside.'

That's what they did, and after some idle conversation, Loretta said, 'I'm really glad you're not an ogre of a housekeeper because I do need this break and, as you may have noticed, I've spent a lot of it sleeping so far. I have to admit,' she said ruefully, 'that given the opportunity I can be a right slob!'

'Well, I think that's partly why I'm here…uh.' Davina grimaced in the darkness. 'I mean to say, at least I can take Candice off your hands a bit.'

'Darling, that was beautifully diplomatic,' Loretta replied with a gurgle of laughter, 'but we all know Steve thinks I'm a lousy mother and unfortunately, in some respects, he's right.'

Thinking, What can you say to that? Davina preserved a tactful silence. She'd also been gradually making the discovery that it was hard not to like Loretta.

'Mind you,' Loretta went on, 'you could have knocked me down with a feather when he presented us with you- had you two not known each other at all, before?'

'Not at all,' Davina said with another, hopefully hidden, grimace.

'Strange,' Loretta murmured, and raised her arms lazily above her head. 'You do realise Lavinia is sizing you up as wife material for Steve, don't you?'

Davina all but dropped her cup. 'What do you mean?' she said in an oddly strangled sort of voice.

Loretta chuckled. 'Darling, Lavinia has two main ambitions in life-one, to find Steve a wife, and two-to make sure it isn't me.'

'But…but…that's unbelievable!' But as soon as she said it, a lot of little things fell into place. 'So that's what she was on about over my divorce and everything else, and he knew….' She stopped abruptly.

'Exactly. I really felt for you when you looked so mystified. It must have been rather like the Mad Hatter's tea-party.'

'But surely you can't make those kind of decisions on such a short acquaintance? Lavinia's known me for barely five days.'

'Lavinia can, believe it,' Loretta said drily. 'What's more, once she's made them, she never changes her mind. Contrary to what they all might tell you, I made her son exceedingly happy in the short time we had together- oh, yes, I did spend quite a bit of his money, but mainly to set myself up as a dress designer and I'm now earning it back very nicely. Nor did I wear him into an early grave; the condition he had that ended his life was there before we ever met. But none of the aforementioned has ever persuaded Lavinia that I am anything but a slut.' 'Did he make you happy-I'm sorry, that was unforgivable.'

But Loretta merely smiled. 'As a matter of fact, he did. But I'm an honest person, unfortunately, I sometimes think, and I'm no good without a man in my life. I've neither attempted to stay celibate since he died, nor could I conceive of doing so in the future.'

'Why…why does she think you…want Steve?' Davina said after a long pause.

Loretta thought for a while. 'Well, let's be honest again,' she said at last. 'Few women in their right minds would not want Steve, and I have to confess there've been times when I've thought-there's no law against it. But, of course, I could never be the woman Steve wanted and not only because of his father.' 'Why not, apart from that?'

Loretta glinted a fleeting white grin across at her and said gently, 'I don't think you're an inexperienced little girl, Davina, for all that we may be quite different types apparently. Falling in love with Steve Warwick,' she went on deliberately, 'would be part heaven, part hell, don't you think? Unless you were prepared to be owned body and soul-I'm not that kind of woman.'

'Who is?' Davina said very quietly, and felt a tremor pass through her.

'Oh, I think it can happen, although not often. Those kind of all-or-nothing love-affairs, I mean. You're probably a little cynical after your divorce,' she added, and sent Davina an uncharacteristically acute little glance.

'Aren't you?' Davina queried. 'A little cynical, I mean? Isn't that what you've been saying, up to a point?'

'No,' Loretta mused, 'I've been trying to be honest. In other words, I know myself rather well.'

Davina was silent for a long time, then she made an effort and said, 'I still can't believe his grandmother could seriously-well, want to promote anything between us. She really can have no idea whether I'm a… heaven alone knows what!'

'Ah, well.' Loretta shrugged. 'I'd be surprised if you were.'

Davina took a breath and made a swift decision to try to lighten things up. 'Don't you start,' she said with an attempt at light, wry humour.

Loretta raised her hands. 'Wouldn't dream of it-by the way, I must thank you for winning Candy around the way you have. I was beginning to think it wasn't possible!'

'It was actually surprisingly easy, but then I think it often is with children, for outsiders.'

'That could be true,' Loretta said slowly. 'I must say it amazes me that the actual fact of motherhood doesn't automatically equip one with all the right responses. Still, I do keep trying. You know, I would love to dress you, Davina,' she added, changing the subject completely. 'You have the most divine figure, you're tall enough to carry most clothes-how tall are you?'

'Five foot eight-I thought one had to be a bit taller-'

'No, no, there aren't many Jerry Halls out there; five foot eight is fine. For what I had in mind for you,' she said mischievously.

'The problem would be paying for them,' Davina said wryly.

'Did you not get anything from your ex-husband?' Loretta enquired curiously.

Davina smiled. 'Not a cent. He was declared bankrupt, you see. I was only lucky I wasn't involved in any of his ventures, otherwise I could have met the same fate, so-‘

'Oh, I wouldn't expect you to pay for them! Just wear them, as an advertisement kind of thing.'

'That's very kind of you-'

'No, it's not!' Loretta protested vigorously. 'Believe me, it happens all the time and it's good business sense.'

'Well-' Davina hesitated, a bit taken aback as she perceived that Loretta was deadly serious '-but then there's the problem that I don't go anywhere where anyone would see me.'

'Ah.' Loretta lay back and chewed her lip, but not for long. 'People will see you here, though.'

'Here?' Davina regarded her quizzically.

'It's amazing how many very interesting people come to Lord Howe, despite its laid-back aura, Davina,' Loretta said seriously. 'Because it's so unique, you see. In fact, it's a seriously trendy sort of place to come if you want to prove you're into the untrendy… if you know what I mean. World heritage stuff and all that kind of thing. I've seen premiers and even one Prime Minister here, television, film and radio stars-you'd be amazed how many well-known people come here-'

'Stop!' Davina said with a laugh. 'I believe you. But you seem to forget, I'm only the housekeeper, so I'm still not going to be seen where all these seriously untrendy trendies gather-'

Loretta sat up. 'You don't know Lavinia!' she said earnestly. 'She is, among all the other things she is, a great socialiser. I think she also regards herself as the Queen Mum of Lord Howe. Give her a few more days and she will have winkled out enough people to have a party, if not many parties!'

'Oh, God,' Davina murmured with genuine reverence. 'The mind boggles.'

Loretta chuckled. 'I know what you mean.'

'But all the same-' Davina stood up '-I'm still only the housekeeper and I don't suppose you came armed with a wardrobe full of clothes for me, so, look, thank you,' she said warmly, 'I appreciate the thought, but it just couldn't work.'

Loretta subsided. 'A problem,' she admitted.

'Well, I think I better take myself to bed, it sounds as if I'm going to need to conserve my strength. Goodnight.' Davina got up and stretched, but asked then, curiously, 'Why doesn't Lavinia live here if that's how she feels about the place?'

'The winters are too severe for her; it can be pretty cold and windy. She lives in Queensland now, where they're very mild. She also likes to terrorise some of the other family operations on the mainland.'

'So…' Davina stopped, but Loretta read her thoughts.

She said, 'Yes, Steve's father left him quite an impressive empire and Candice a slice of it all, too. There are also a couple of manufacturing plants that Lavinia actually brought into the family, which is why she regards them as her prerogative.' Loretta grimaced. 'I often think that's why Steve lives here, although he has to spend a lot of time over there, of course. But this is undoubtedly his favourite home. His father used to tell me how he loathed being sent away to school. And that's another thing.' She sat up again. 'They're great believers in higher education, the Warwicks-the finest schools and so on, and I can feel the pressure building up for me to send Candy away to boarding-school soon. I can't help feeling,' she said with a sigh, 'that that might alienate Candy from me forever. You know it really would solve a lot of my problems if Steve married and had kids of his own-I'm sure Lavinia would get off my back then!'

'I'm definitely going to bed now,' Davina said ruefully.

'Oh, well, there are other contenders, and one right here on the island, I'll have to get to work on her,' Loretta said humorously. 'Night!'

But bed wasn't what she really wanted, Davina decided, once she was in the privacy of her chalet, because once again she felt restless and keyed up-probably from all the revelations of the evening-and would toss and turn for a while, she just knew. She sighed, then took her trusty torch from her camera-bag and decided to see if a walk would help.

It was a magnificent starry night and she crossed the road and walked through a paddock to its grassy edge above the beach on the lagoon side where the tide lapped gently against the sand and rocks. She'd noticed a bench there from the road during the day and swung her torch to locate it. She did, about twenty feet away, but there was someone there before her, someone who stood up and revealed himself as Steve Warwick.

'Oh, no,' she said wearily. 'I mean-sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you. I'll go-'

'You aren't. Disturbing me, and there's no reason for you to go. I always find it's particularly relaxing to have a stroll before bedtime and to enjoy the peace and quiet. I should imagine it's been quite an evening for you.'

'You're not wrong there,' she murmured, but still standing as if poised for flight.

He smiled slightly in the torchlight. 'Put it out and sit down, Davina, I'm not going to eat you.'

She hesitated then sat and he sat down beside her. But she was as taut as a piano wire and it was impossible to project any other image.

'What's wrong?' he said after a few moments.

'I…nothing really.'

'Sure?' He raised an eyebrow. 'You haven't been having any further discussions with my grandmother on your suitability as-a bride for me?'

Davina shuddered and turned to him. 'You knew,' she accused. 'And laughed!'

He shrugged his broad shoulders. 'I have to confess I found it rather amusing in the light of what had happened between us. Wouldn't you-if you could be a fly on the wall?'

'Would that I could,' Davina said bitterly. 'I still don't understand why. She must make your life hell if she… goes about doing this all the time.'

He grinned briefly. 'I have a thick hide-if it's any consolation she was probably spurred on this time by Loretta's presence. She has an absolute horror of… that happening. So you have been talking to her again?'

'No.'

'Then how did you work it all out?'

'Loretta told me.'

'Ah.' He said no more.

'What does that mean?' Davina asked reluctantly.

'Loretta's no fool,' he answered almost absently. 'What else did she tell you?'

Davina blinked. 'Nothing much. Well, she asked me to advertise some clothes for her but we were able to sort out that it wasn't practical or indeed possible-I feel,' she said, with a sudden tremor in her voice, 'a bit like Alice in Wonderland. Yes, as if I've fallen down a hole.' And she put her hands to her face suddenly.

Steve Warwick made a slight movement but stilled it. 'Perhaps you ought to go to bed,' he said rather drily then. 'Come, I'll walk you back.' And he stood up and held his hand out to her.

Davina dropped her hands and looked up at him but his expression was unfathomable. Then she looked at his hand, but instead of putting hers into it, stood up unaided. 'Sorry,' she said very quietly as they turned and started to walk towards the house. 'I'm not usually this… whatever it is.'

'I should imagine there's one thing that's not helping,' he said, and his voice was dry again.

'What?' she asked uncertainly.

'When two people know they could find-solace and a release in each other's arms, to have to cope with denying that as well…' He shrugged.

'You…you promised,' Davina said huskily and stumbled so that this time he just took her hand with an impatient sound. They weren't far from the bottom of his driveway.

'I'm not doing anything,' he said roughly. 'Merely commenting.'

'If you had any… if you were any sort of a-'

'Gentleman?' he supplied.

'Yes. You wouldn't even comment-'

'I don't know that being honest is not being gentlemanly,' he said irritably. 'Do women honestly prefer the latter to the former?'

She took a breath and decided to ignore this. 'What makes you so sure about the release and solace and not, for example, all sorts of turmoil and trauma?' she queried starkly.

He stopped walking and turned her to face him. 'Can I tell you some things about yourself, Davina?' He didn't wait as she opened her mouth to protest. 'You're twenty-five, you were never made to sleep alone all your life- OK, so you have some cause to be bitter and wary, but I can picture you before it all happened. I can picture you as being warm and generous and full of life as well as intelligent and spirited. Do you know what's left? A beautiful face and figure-and an overburdened spirit that's often caustic and sometimes downright sour. And all because you're heaping the sins of one man on all of us. Do you know the only times when the old you shines through? When you're photographing or talking about it, and when you're with Candice,' he said significantly. 'You're like a different person.'

She stared up into his hooded eyes for a long moment. Then she said, 'Damn you, Steve Warwick. You've got no idea what it's like to be virtually raped on your wedding night, so don't preach to me.'

'You shouldn't have married him, Davina.'

'There's one little detail I forgot to mention,' she said curtly. 'Not only was my father likely to go bankrupt, there was a strong possibility he could go to gaol for misrepresentation to his shareholders-could you have stood by and seen that happen to your father if you'd had the means at hand to prevent it?'

He closed his eyes briefly and sighed. 'Davina, I'm sorry. But, look, even if it's not to be me, don't wear it like a thorny crown for the rest of your life.' And, in another surprising gesture, he raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. 'You'd better go to bed now.' And he turned away abruptly and disappeared into the darkness, away from the house.

She put her knuckles uncertainly to her lips, then turned herself and stumbled up the drive.