AMANDA BROWNING - Enemy Within

Mickey returned the hug she had been swept into, feeling quite relieved to have an erstwhile ally within call. Smiling up at the older woman, she realised with a faint qualm that Sophie had apparently taken to wearing pince-nez. ‘Hello, Sophie. I’ve come to see Leah.’

The cheerful smile reappeared on the grey-haired lady’s face and didn’t flicker. ‘Isn’t that nice? Come in, come in.’

Mickey felt her heart surge anew, and threw Ryan an ‘I told you so’ look over her shoulder before stepping inside.

‘Is this your new man, Mickey?’ the old lady asked forthrightly, eyeing the breadth and height of her adopted granddaughter’s companion with unabashed interest, while Mickey stiffened in instant rejection.

‘No!’ The denial shot out hurriedly as she caught a wicked glint of amusement in Ryan’s eyes. ‘No. This is Ryan Douglas. He’s come to see Leah, too.’ Reluctantly she made the necessary introductions.

‘Mrs Trenchard,’ Ryan greeted politely as he shook hands.

‘Dear boy, call me Sophie. Mickey will tell you I’m never one to stand on ceremony. I was the despair of my family!’ Sophie Trenchard invited, leading the way into a cluttered lounge.

‘Will Leah be long?’ Mickey asked firmly, knowing how dangerous it was to let Sophie take the conversation in an altogether different direction. She assumed her sister was out, because if Leah had been in she would have come to greet them before this. It brought a return of that small niggle of doubt to her mind.

Sophie waved an airy hand. ‘She said they would come back soon. Sit, Mickey. Can I get you some coffee, Ryan? Or some brandy, perhaps? Thaddeus left some here when he went away...or was it Matthew? They were twins, you see, and I never can remember which is which,’ she explained, making Mickey stare at her long and hard, because Sophie wasn’t at all dippy; she just pretended she was when there was an advantage to be gained. Just what the advantage was this time, she didn’t yet see.

Across the room, Ryan shook his head. ‘No, thank you,’ he refused with a polite smile, although his eyes narrowed.

Mickey groaned inwardly, well aware of the impression he was getting, whereas the men in question were brothers who had lodged with Sophie one summer when their family home was full to bursting. She was on the verge of pointing this out when Ryan carried on speaking.

‘You say Leah isn’t here?’ The question was mild enough, but Mickey was aware of the steel behind the words.

Sophie dislodged a cat from an armchair and sat down, nodding wisely. ‘Leah and her young man have gone away for a while, but they’ll be back when they’re ready,’ she revealed, seemingly unaware of just what a bombshell she had dropped.

For a moment Mickey was totally speechless, but not so Ryan. ‘Does her young man have a name?’

‘Of course. Peter Douglas. Ah...’ Suddenly she made the connection, although she wasn’t in the least put out. ‘Your son?’

‘My nephew,’ Ryan corrected grittily, and Mickey was very much aware that he was holding a monumental anger in check solely because of the older woman. She knew he was thinking there weren’t just two women involved, but three!

‘A nice boy. I like him. He has a good heart. He’ll do well for our Leah,’ Sophie declared with satisfaction. ‘You don’t find young men of his standing turning up in our neck of the woods every day of the week.’

Ryan’s face became stony. ‘No, indeed you don’t. Only a fool would let a wealthy young man get away,’ he declared grimly, and not very subtly.

It appeared to go right over her head, for Sophie merely blinked at him over her glasses. ‘Fortunately Leah has no need for money, unlike Mickey. I don’t suppose you know of a wealthy man for her to marry?’ she asked, much to Mickey’s horror.

‘Sophie!’ she protested, knowing it was the older woman’s idea of a joke, but knowing too that Ryan was not the man to appreciate it any more than she did. However, just the mere fact of her having said it meant Sophie was covering something up. ‘I don’t need a husband!’

‘But you do need the money, dear.’

Mickey took one look at Ryan’s grim expression and could have screamed. ‘We weren’t talking about me, Sophie. How could you let Leah go off? What about her studies?’

The older woman tutted. ‘There will be time for them, Mickey. Where’s your heart, child? Leah loves this young man, and right now she wants to acknowledge her commitment to him. You’re her sister; surely you must understand that.’

But I don’t, she wanted to shout. How could Leah do this? How could she throw away everything? How could Sophie allow it? Mickey had learnt a great deal about Leah’s grandmother’s rather eccentric views, and had come to accept it as normal—for her. Yet she had never expected her sister would act so recklessly.

However, there was nothing she could say, because clearly the other woman saw nothing to worry about. She sighed. Sophie, for all her worldliness, seemed sublimely unconcerned by all the pitfalls lying in wait for the unwary. Because she liked him, it would never occur to her that this man she saw as estimable might be far from that ideal. Which explained why she was acting the way she was. She had probably even expected such a visitation, and had promised to help! Sophie positively thrived on romantic intrigue.

Mickey knew from past experience that there was little point in trying to pierce Sophie’s dippy persona with a frontal attack. Once in place, she could keep it up indefinitely, especially when the person for whose benefit it was being put on was in the room. There was to be no help in that direction, unless she could get Sophie alone, and that meant ditching Ryan Douglas. Right now, she didn’t know how that was to be done.

‘Did they say where they were going?’ she asked tonelessly, trying to salvage something.

‘The islands,’ Sophie vouchsafed with a smile, unconcerned by just how vague a direction that was.

For the first time ever, Mickey felt her palms itch, and she eyed the other woman in exasperation. ‘Which islands? The Queen Charlottes?’

Sophie shrugged, eyes limpid and innocent. ‘They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask,’ she replied, and Mickey had to stifle a gasp hastily when for a moment their eyes clashed and Sophie’s were as clear as crystal and openly challenging.

‘How long have they been gone?’ Ryan asked with studied politeness, and, although Mickey could feel the tension in him, she had to marvel at his self-control.

The older woman removed her pince-nez and polished them vigorously. ‘Two...three weeks.’

‘And they haven’t contacted you in all that time?’ Ryan challenged disbelievingly.

‘It didn’t seem so long. When you get old, you don’t count the time.’

If Mickey hadn’t already known it, that alone would have told her that Sophie knew a great deal more than she was saying. She might disdain telephones, but she was a keen radio ham. Leah spoke to her grandmother every day without fail, and Sophie was probably waiting for a call right now! Unfortunately, if she was determined to stay close-mouthed, even a can opener wouldn’t prise her open.

Ryan took the statement stoically, rising to his feet agilely. A poker-faced Mickey followed suit. ‘My grandmother used to say much the same thing, but that was because she didn’t want to be held to account for her sins.’

Sophie was not a whit put out, and fairly bounced to her feet. ‘Young man, I’m too old to worry about sin!’

He eyed her steadily for a long time, then said softly, ‘Perhaps so, but I’ll assume you have a conscience. So if by some...miracle...your granddaughter does get in touch, have her tell Peter he’s needed at home. Now I’m sure you’ll forgive us for having to rush off,’ he added with heavy irony.