Ginny had caught sight of her mother and sister as they sat down, but they must have received orders not to acknowledge her. Whenever she glanced in their direction they looked away hastily. James had been more subtle. He had simply looked right through her. Not surprising then that her appetite had disappeared.
'Looks like Sir Martin has had a word with his family,' Roarke observed dryly from beside her, and it didn't really surprise Ginny to realise he had seen what was happening. He sensed a mystery, and mysteries had only one reason for existence-to be solved.
'All done with military precision,' she joked.
Roarke reached for his glass of wine and took a sip. 'What did you do to get on the wrong side of him?'
She poked at a piece of chicken with her fork. 'Marching in step was never my forte.'
'If you aren't going to eat that, leave it alone,' Roarke ordered mockingly. 'Didn't your parents tell you not to play with your food?'
Spearing the chicken, she raised it to her mouth with a challenging look. 'Constantly, but I didn't listen to them,' she declared, and popped the morsel into her mouth. It was dry by now, and she was forced to wash it down with some wine.
'So,' Roarke went on. 'How did you get to meet James Beavis?' he asked curiously.
Ginny toyed with her glass, watching the golden liquid swill from side to side. 'You could say we grew up together,' she admitted wryly.
'I thought he might have been an old flame,' Roarke put in, surprising her into looking at him.
'James?' she exclaimed with a laugh. 'No, there was never anything like that between us.' No doubt he would be angry with her if he ever discovered the true nature of her relationship with James but, as she had no intention of telling him, there was no way he would find out. Her private life was going to remain private.
'Good. I didn't really think he was your type.'
Ginny followed his gaze to where her brother sat talking to Caroline, Roarke's sister. There was nothing animated in his features. Nothing to show he was looking forward to marrying the woman he was talking to. She frowned. She hoped Caroline was doing the right thing. If James had become more like their father … But it was not her decision.
'How on earth did they meet?' she asked, and Roarke shrugged.
'At some charity dinner, so Mother tells me. Perhaps they exchanged horror stories and decided they would be better off together,' he said with a laugh, and Ginny winced.
'Talking of horror stories, your stepmother is unbelievable!' she pronounced in an undertone.
'Oh, yes,' he agreed dryly. 'I liked the way you sat on her. She was no match for you.'
Ginny was pleased he was pleased, but shrugged in an offhand way. 'I was only doing my job.'
'You seemed to be enjoying it,' Roarke pointed out sardonically, and she chuckled.
'OK, so I admit it gave me a certain satisfaction to peel her off you. I didn't like her.'
'The feeling was mutual,' he responded with a laugh.
Ginny laughed too, and as she turned towards him their eyes met in shared enjoyment. Then it seemed to her that something changed, and for a wild moment there was a connection between them. Something other than shared laughter. Her heart lurched, and she saw the tiny frown that appeared between his brows. He started to reach out a hand to her, and she held her breath, waiting …
'Hey, you two, break it up,' one of Roarke's half-brothers called from across the table, and suddenly they were the centre of attention.
Ginny came to with a jolt and felt colour storm into her cheeks. Roarke handled the matter with more élan.
'Mind your own business, Tom. Ginny and I are having a private conversation,' he declared, grinning at her. 'Ignore him, darling. He's just jealous because I happen to have the most beautiful woman in the room sitting next to me.'
The endearment took her by surprise, but a second later she realised he was acting a part. His statement was hotly refuted up and down the table and she was able to use the time to gather her composure. Whatever had happened in those odd few seconds, it had been quite unsettling. She didn't know why it had happened, but she would have to take care that nothing like it happened again. Which, she acknowledged wryly, might prove difficult as she hadn't anticipated anything like it happening once.
It was quite late when they left the table and returned to the drawing room. Roarke took her round and introduced her to the other members of his family. They all appeared to be nice, friendly people, who accepted her presence without question, which made her feel something of a fraud, until she reminded herself the deception was in a good cause.
She kept an eye out for her family, but it was an hour or so before she saw James standing on his own for a moment. Knowing there would be few opportunities like this one, she excused herself from the group she was with and made her way towards him. Her brother didn't notice her approach until the very last second, by which time it was impossible for him to escape. He tensed visibly, clearly unhappy with the situation.
A lump of emotion lodged itself in her throat as she smiled at him. 'Hello, James,' she greeted huskily, willing him to respond.
For his part, her brother's eyes darted about the room, and she had no doubt who he was looking for. Not wanting to be interrupted too soon, she placed herself in a position to shield as much of him as she could from the room at large.
'You can speak to me, you know. I won't bite,' she urged softly, trying to tease him as she had been wont to do when they were at home.
Finally he looked at her. 'Go away, Ginny.'
It was hardly encouraging, but she persevered. 'Can't we talk, James? We used to be able to talk, at least.'
James looked angry. 'That was before. Things have changed. I can't talk to you. I won't,' he declared, and made to move away, but her hand on his arm forestalled him.
'Can you still be so afraid of him, James? Even now?' she asked unhappily, and he paled, jerking his arm free.
'I'm tired of hearing that from you. It was so easy for you, Ginny. You had nothing to lose!' he snapped angrily, keeping his voice down with an effort.
Ginny almost laughed as she shook her head. 'You're wrong. I had everything to lose. I lost you and Lucy and Mum. I've missed you. All I want to do is talk to you.'
For the space of a heartbeat James appeared to hesitate, but then something over her shoulder made him shut down tight. She glanced round and saw their father watching them, his expression grim. No wonder James was in retreat.
'Get lost, Ginny!' he snarled at her, and this time he did walk away.
Ginny didn't try to stop him, for she knew there would be no point. James had never been strong enough to fight their father's strictures, even when she had been there to back him up. He hated unpleasantness and rows and angry voices. He had been a gentle boy, which had irritated their father and made him send his son to a military school to toughen him up. James had returned more buttoned-up than ever, and Ginny would never forgive her father for that.
Feeling as she did, she couldn't stay in the same room with him right now, for she didn't know what she might do. She had to get away to calm down. Which was why she didn't return to where Roarke stood talking to another of his sisters, but headed for the terrace and the fresh air. Nor was she aware that he watched her go, a frown of concern creasing his forehead.
Outside, she headed away from the light cast by the doorway, into the peace of the shadows further along where few people had wandered to. Resting her hands on the parapet, she tipped her head back, allowing the breeze that blew in off the lake to cool her face. It lifted the hair from her neck and she rolled her head slowly from side to side to get maximum benefit. It felt wonderful, and she could feel herself relaxing.
She might not have felt so relaxed had she been aware of the man who had followed her out and who now approached her from behind. She had only the briefest of warnings given by the sound of a footfall, then Sir Martin's hand took her by the shoulder and spun her round roughly.
His face was livid with anger. 'My God, why must you constantly defy me? I told you to stay away from my son. We want nothing to do with you.'
Ginny had never been afraid of confrontation, no matter how threatening her father could be. Now she rested back against the stonework of the low wall and tipped her chin up at him.
'You disowned me, remember? Which means you no longer have the right to tell me what I may or may not do,' she shot right back, unaware of a dark figure who slipped out of a window further along the veranda and settled into the shadows. 'I'm no longer your daughter, Brigadier.'
Sir Martin's lip curled scornfully. 'You were never that. A daughter doesn't disobey her father. She doesn't mix with riff-raff, nor sleep with gutter trash! A daughter thinks more of herself than to bed down with any man who asks her!'