His After-Hours Mistress(11)

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!'