Carole Mortimer - Yesterday's Scars

She grinned at him. ‘I’m a little rusty,’ she corrected him. ‘If you weren’t such a good player we would have lost, miserably.’

Mark watched them with amused eyes. ‘When the two of you have quite finished complimenting each other on that purely lucky victory,’ he said tongue in cheek, ‘I suggest we all make arrangements to go to the dance together tomorrow evening.’

‘That would be lovely,’ answered Trisha excitedly. ‘Wouldn’t it, Hazel?’

Hazel looked from one to the other of them, not really sure if she should make arrangements like that without consulting Rafe first. He hadn’t always attended these weekly dances, although when he had he had always expected her to accompany him. But that had been before his accident. Anyway, hadn’t he more or less told her to keep out of his way for the duration of her stay here?

She nodded her head. ‘Yes, lovely,’ she agreed.

It was obvious that Trisha wholeheartedly approved of the idea anyway. She could talk of little else but Mark Logan on the way back to the Marston home. The Logan brothers were certainly an attractive pair, but in a way they reminded Hazel too much of Josh and the men like him she had met during her stay in America.

Maybe Josh could have meant more to her; she didn’t know, and hadn’t had the time to find out. But she had heard the rumours about him like everyone else, it hadn’t taken Linda to tell her that Josh had let his fiancée down only two weeks before the wedding. She had already heard about that and it hadn’t endeared him to her. But when she had met him she had found him charming and very attractive.

She had been a little more sorry to leave him when she left America than any of her other male friends there, but since arriving in Cornwall she could think only of Rafe. She had the feeling that Carl Logan could become a friend if she would let him, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted that.

‘Coming in for dinner?’ Trisha invited.

Hazel shook her head regretfully. ‘I’d love to, but I suppose I’d better get back,’ she grimaced. ‘No doubt Celia would just love for me to absent myself from the dining table. Think of the trouble she could cause if I don’t turn up for dinner on my first evening home. Lord, I’d forgotten all about these intrigues! It’s just as if I’d never been away.’

‘Well, I for one am glad you’re back,’ Trisha squeezed her hand affectionately. ‘See you tomorrow.’

Hazel didn’t hurry back to Savage House, knowing that her welcome there would be no more enthusiastic than the one she had received earlier, from either member of the Savage family! Aunt Sylvia was right, she should tell Rafe that Celia hadn’t written to her, but somehow that would only be admitting his sister’s hatred of her, and at the moment she wasn’t even sure she was prepared to accept the extent of that herself, let alone convince Rafe it was so.

‘You’re back, then,’ was Celia’s curt greeting as she sneeringly watched Hazel take the stairs two at a time on her way up to her room. ‘Rafe isn’t to be disturbed at the moment,’ she added curtly.

‘I’ve already seen him,’ Hazel told her softly.

She knew Celia was surprised by this information by the widening of her mercenary blue eyes. ‘I see,’ she said slowly. ‘Not very pleasant to look at any more, is he, Hazel?’ she taunted.

Hazel shrugged, Rafe’s appearance had been a shock when she had first seen him again, but shocks were quickly overcome and familiarity soon took their place. In a couple of days she would have forgotten he had ever looked any other way. And in just over a week’s time she would have left here for good.

‘I’ve seen worse,’ she replied carelessly.

‘Perhaps you have,’ Celia sneered. ‘But not on someone who means as much to you as Rafe does.’

Hazel flushed, looking sharply at the other woman. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded tautly.

Celia gave her a pitying smile. ‘Rafe and I often laughed together over the fact that you imagined yourself in love with him before you left here three years ago. It was quite amusing to watch your constant playing for his attention.’

‘You’re lying!’ Hazel’s face was bright red. ‘Rafe isn’t like that. And I’m certainly not in love with him!’

‘Perhaps not now, not now he looks like something out of a horror film, but you were once. How fickle you are, Hazel! A few scars and you’re no longer interested.’

‘If Rafe finds me such an embarrassment why did he ask me to come back here?’ Hazel demanded defiantly.

Celia gave a satisfied smile. ‘He didn’t,’ she answered smugly. ‘I sent that telegram asking you to come home.’

‘You did?’ Hazel’s look was scathing. ‘Slightly late, weren’t you?’

She watched as Celia coloured uncomfortably. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked coldly.

‘Only that Rafe expected you to send for me a year ago when his accident happened—in fact, he believes you to have done so. Now why should he think that, Celia? Could it possibly be because you told him you’d written to me when in fact you hadn’t? Could that be the answer?’ Hazel mused.

‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you?’ hissed the older woman. ‘Rafe didn’t need you then and he doesn’t need you now. You’re only here so that he can finally rid himself of the responsibility of the headstrong clinging child you’ve been in his life. After your birthday you won’t be welcome here at all.’

‘I already know that,’ Hazel returned softly. ‘But you didn’t need to bring me back to England to tell me that, a letter would have sufficed. America suited me very well, I could have done without this upheaval.’

‘That wouldn’t have done at all. You see, I know you, Hazel, you wouldn’t have believed it unless Rafe told you so himself. I gather he did tell you?’

‘Yes,’ came her reluctant reply.

Celia smiled cattily. ‘Then I hope you take his advice. You’ve been an intrusion in our lives far too long now, and the sooner you remove yourself the better.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Hazel told her angrily. ‘I don’t intend staying anywhere where I’m not wanted.’

‘Then why have you stayed in our lives this long? Surely you must have realised when Rafe took you to the States that that should have been the end of it. We thought we’d finally got rid of you.’ Celia gave a harsh laugh. ‘But oh no, you had other ideas about that. Every month you wrote to Rafe, short letters, but just enough to make sure he didn’t forget you. Why was that, Hazel? Haven’t you had enough out of us the last eleven years without coming back for more?’

‘You’re a bitch, Celia, nothing but a bitch!’ Tears gathered in Hazel’s huge brown eyes. ‘But don’t worry, I’ll get out of your hair quite soon.’ Oh, this woman hated her much more than she had ever realised! ‘Perhaps Rafe will let James take me back to the airport tomorrow. I no more have any wish to stay here when I’m so unwanted than you have to have me here.’

‘Rafe will insist you stay until after your birthday, so don’t make it any more difficult for us than it is already. Rafe can do without your having tantrums and demanding to leave. Just stay out of his way.’

‘I intend to!’

‘For God’s sake, you two!’ Without either of them realising it Rafe had opened the door to his study and was now glaring furiously at the pair of them, his face almost satanic with its deep scarring. Hazel looked at him guiltily. How much of their heated conversation had he heard? ‘Do you realise your voices are carrying all through the house! If you have to squabble and bitch at each other like a couple of children at least keep your voices down!’

Celia moved to her brother’s side; petite and beautiful, she smiled up at him. ‘We weren’t arguing, Rafe, merely talking loudly because Hazel is halfway up the stairs.’