HELEN BROOKS - Sweet Betrayal

The grounds around the house were lovingly cared for and the stables situated some distance away were always in pristine condition, housing some fine mounts. According to her father, the Strythe family had diversified into many other areas besides farming, creating enormous wealth, although the family home with its acres of prime Devonshire cattle and sheep had always been Colonel Strythe’s first love.

She glanced at his portrait now as she stood before the roaring log fire waiting for Cameron’s arrival, noting the light blue eyes, the firm mouth and that small dimple in his chin that Cameron had inherited too. She missed him. She really did. The beautiful room, with its rich deep red curtains and upholstery and fine antique furniture, seemed empty without his benign presence.

‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’ She hadn’t noticed Cameron come in, lost as she was in the past, and started violently for the third time since his homecoming. ‘Do you suffer with your nerves?’ From anyone else the question, asked as it was in quiet, concerned tones, might have been genuine, but as she looked into his eyes she saw dark devilment gleaming out at her.

‘No, I do not,’ she returned sharply, flushing hotly.

‘Do I make you nervous, then?’ He had moved closer to her as he spoke and for the second time she became aware of that tantalising smell that was a part of him. It stirred something deep inside her that she would prefer not to be stirred.

‘No.’ As she spoke the denial she realised it was a lie. He did make her nervous, horribly nervous, and that in turn made her angry.

‘Good,’ he said lazily. He had changed since that morning and, looking at him in casual trousers and a heavy Aran sweater, she became aware that he really was quite devastatingly attractive. She caught her wandering thoughts savagely. She hadn’t really just thought that... had she?

‘You wanted to see me?’ She kept her voice cool and businesslike and walked with studied calm from the comforting warmth of the fire to the big easychair near by, perching on the end of it and crossing her hands on her lap.

‘Now I can almost believe you are a schoolteacher when you look like that,’ he said mockingly as he took in her stiff stance. ‘Although with that hair and those eyes it’s almost impossible to comprehend.’

‘What do you mean?’ she asked furiously. ‘Schoolteachers are people; we come in all shapes and sizes.’

‘There aren’t many with a shape like yours,’ he countered quickly. ‘You can’t tell me you were short of male admirers when you were at university. I’ve been there; I know what a female like you about the place would do to the male population.’ There was some element in his voice she couldn’t place and she stared at him uncertainly for a moment.

‘I’ve had boyfriends, yes,’ she said slowly, disliking the way the conversation was going. ‘No more and no less than any other girl, I suppose.’

‘Anyone special?’ His voice was casual.

‘Look, I really don’t think that’s any of your business,’ she said sharply. ‘I’m here to discuss the school’s future—or lack of it,’ she added bitterly. ‘Shall we get on with it?’

‘Impatient little puss, aren’t you?’ he said mockingly, smiling slightly as she glared back at him. ‘But I suppose you were destined to be prickly and badtempered with hair the colour of fire.’

‘I am not prickly or bad-tempered—usually,’ she added pointedly, ‘and please cut the chit-chat. You won’t charm me, Mr Strythe, so don’t try.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ he said cryptically.

It was some time later when Mrs Baines brought in the tea-trolley and by then Candy had to admit that putting money into the school in a business sense was like pouring it down the drain. She couldn’t justify Cameron’s continuing his father’s patronage in any financial argument, but then Colonel Strythe hadn’t looked on it as an investment in any other sense but a human one. He had known how much the villagers wanted their children taught locally, he had seen how happy their offspring were in familiar surroundings, and once he had satisfied himself that the academic standard was good enough he had been more than prepared to be magnanimous. He could afford it, he had once told Candy, and the amount he spared the school and village was lost in the Strythe finances. Obviously his son thought differently!

She glared at him now as he gravely thanked Mrs Baines and took the heavy trolley from her, opening the door for her to leave. He could be so sickeningly pleasant when he pleased, but he didn’t fool her for a minute. She had seen what loving him had done to her sister, and Colonel Strythe had never been the same again once his son had left. This man left devastation and havoc wherever he went. She wondered how many broken hearts were scattered across Australia.

‘I won’t say, “a penny for your thoughts”, because frankly I think I would be better not knowing,’ the deep, husky voice said cynically. She focused her eyes sharply, aware she had been gazing at him with her thoughts far away. ‘Help yourself to sandwiches and cake and please try to force yourself to eat, whatever you think of the present company. Mrs Baines will be most upset if most of this doesn’t disappear.’

Candy had always been blessed with a particularly robust appetite that rarely faltered whatever the circumstances, and the selection of wafer-thin sandwiches, temptingly filled rolls, tiny individual pork pies and mouth-watering homemade cakes was too good to resist. Cameron had pulled two easy-chairs closer to the fire before bringing the trolley to her side, switching on the television as he sat down. It was too cosy, too companionable, but she was hungry, and by concentrating on the flickering screen she found she had demolished a good proportion of the food by the time she was full. She looked up to find a pair of amused steel-blue eyes fixed on her face.

‘Good grief, girl, do you always eat like that?’ His gaze roved down her slender figure in wonder.

‘You did say to eat ... whatever I think of the present company.’ The last was added with wry defiance and she swung back her heavy fold of rich silky hair from her shoulders. ‘I had better be going now. You’ve made your point about the school; I really don’t think——’

‘I haven’t made any point as far as I’m aware and we most certainly have not finished this discussion,’ he said curtly as he rang the bell by the side of the fireplace. When Mrs Baines had cleared the remains of the meal, exclaiming in pleasure at the appreciation of her cooking, he closed the door behind her and moved back to his chair, turning off the television as he did so.

‘There is another point I want to discuss with you, Candy, so forget the school problem for a moment.’ She resented hearing her nickname on his lips almost as much as she had done when he had called her Candice. The poor man can’t win, she thought wryly, except that no one in their right mind would ever describe Cameron Strythe as a poor man.

‘Your father is the same age as mine, I understand?’ She stared at him blankly. What on earth had her father’s age to do with anything?

‘I’ve no idea. I suppose they must be close in age; they grew up together, after all.’

‘Well, at sixty I think your father deserves some years without having the responsibility of what is a very taxing job on his shoulders. If Dad had taken it easier he might still be here now.’

She stared at him as the meaning of his words filtered through to her brain. ‘You aren’t going to sack him? You can’t!’ She rose abruptly to her feet, her eyes tragic.

‘Don’t be so ridiculous, woman.’ His voice cut through her like a razor. ‘I’m talking about retirement.’