It was dark now, and the lights were on in the houses.
Olivia glanced sideways into uncurtained windows as she passed, thinking how safe and cosy it all looked. And yet in every house the game of life went on, with sadness, betrayal, reconciliation and compromise. No one was immune.
She shivered again, but from a sense of isolation rather than chill.
Common sense dictated that at this time of night she should stick to the gravelled walk round the perimeter, but she turned off just the same, making her way across the centre of the garden, her steps unerring in spite of the darkness because she'd walked the same route so many times. Bound for her own private sanctuary.
She sat down, huddling herself into a corner of the bench as if she wished to make herself invisible, waiting for the peace of the place to touch her.
But the usual alchemy didn't seem to be working. Her head seemed to be filled with images-Maria Attwood's pain-filled eyes, Melinda's predatory, possessive fingers hooked into Declan's arm, Jeremy's evasive expression.
But it was Declan she saw most, the silvery eyes stormy and full of anger. But not filled with guilt-the acknowledgement of betrayal that she'd have expected. Or even any regret for the hurt he'd caused.
How could he? she thought, her throat tightening convulsively. Oh, how could he? And the first scalding tear trickled down her cold face.
She wept silently, her head bowed, her body rigid. Around her, she could hear all the noises of the night-the rustle of the wind in the leaves, the yowl of a marauding cat, a swift burst of music as someone opened then closed a window, and in the distance a faint rumble of thunder. The fluttering breeze brought the scent of rain.
She thought, It's time I was getting back. She lifted her hands, scrubbing her eyes as a child might do, then stood up.
The bushes parted and stirred, and a narrow beam of light caught her, held her. As she shaded her eyes from the dazzle Declan said grimly, 'I guessed I'd find you here.'
'Go away from me.' Her voice shook. 'Leave me alone.'
'Don't be a little fool. We have to talk.'
'There's nothing to talk about. You've already said everything-and to Maria. You told her I was having an affair with Jeremy-even though you knew-you must have known … ' Her voice broke. 'Oh, what's the use?'
'Listen to me, and listen well.' His voice was soft but resonant 'I told Maria nothing of the kind. She's still in total ignorance about your ill-conceived passion for her worthless husband, and that's the way it's going to stay.'
'But she knew who I was,' she protested. 'She knew my name.'
'Then she heard it in another context.' There was a further growl of thunder, closer this time, and the first swirl of heavy raindrops. 'But we can't stand here discussing the matter. We'll be drenched. Come on in the house.' The flashlight played over her. 'Mother of God, where's your jacket?'
'I left it behind,' she said furiously. 'And I'm going nowhere with you.'
'Well, you're not staying here to catch pneumonia.' The light clicked off, and two swift strides brought him to her side. Before she could register what was happening, he'd lifted her bodily, hoisting her over his shoulder.
For a moment she was stunned-rendered dumb with outrage. Then she began to pound his back with her fists. 'Put me down. Put me down at once.'
'It'll be a pleasure,' he said 'Once we're indoors out of this rain: And stop wriggling, damn you.' And he administered an admonitory tap to her rear.
She would have yelled, but being carried at speed through heavy rain with her head dangling towards the ground wasn't conducive to anything but a few grunts of discomfort, she discovered.
But once they were inside the French windows, and he'd lowered her to the floor, she found her voice easily enough.
'You bastard.' She was shaking with rage-and another, very different emotion that she didn't wish to examine too closely. 'Do you realise how many assault charges I can bring against you?'
Declan finished securing the French windows and looked at her.
He said slowly, 'Then I may as well be hanged for a sheep as lamb.' And he walked across to her and took her in his arms.
He wasn't gentle. His kiss was fuelled by anger. And the same emotion sparked her response. Their mouths explored hungrily, made predatory by the same burning need. She felt the heat of his tongue against hers. And instead of trying to push him away her hands curled into the folds of his shirt, holding him closer.
When they broke apart they were gasping, their gazes locked, like opponents measuring each other. Or as if a spell had been cast, binding them together throughout eternity.
The lights flickered suddenly, and the thunder roared almost overhead, making Olivia jump.
'Heavens.' Her laugh shook with nervousness, and she shivered.
Declan drew a breath, his hand closing on her bare shoulder. 'You're freezing. Come with me.'
She found herself going with him up the stairs and into a large square room, with another set of French windows opening on to a wrought-iron balcony beyond. The walls and carpet were the colour of warm sand, and two big sofas covered in deep green linen flanked an elaborate marble fireplace. One wall, she saw, was composed solely of bookshelves.
Declan had gone through a concealed door at the back of the room, but he was back almost at once, carrying a navy silk robe that she recognised.
'Go and have a shower while I organise a hot drink,' he directed crisply. 'Your dress needs drying, so leave it out.'
She said huskily, 'Lend me an umbrella and I'll go home.'
He turned at the door, his brows lifting. He said quietly, 'Ah, no, Olivia. We both know better than that'
The hot water stung her skin, reviving her magically. She reduced the temperature and let it flow through her hair, as if she was performing some ritual cleansing, ridding herself of the evening's dirt and wretchedness.
She towelled herself until her skin glowed. She combed her damp hair back from her face, staring at herself critically in the mirror. She looked pale, but her lips were reddened and slightly swollen, and she touched them gently with the tip of her finger. Remembering.
Declan's robe was far too big, so she wrapped it round her, then wound the sash round her slim waist, anchoring it securely. The sleeves were too long, too, and she turned them back almost to her elbows.
She thought, I look like a geisha …
A faint scent of the cologne he used still clung to the robe. Eyes closed, she breathed it, then lifted a fold of the silk to her cheek and held it there.
When she went back into the drawing room Declan was seated on one of the sofas, a tray of coffee on the table in front of him, pouring cognac into goblets.
He said, 'You'll be glad to know the storm's passed over.' He studied her, a smile touching his eyes. 'And the robe looks better on you.'
A mixture of shyness and excitement tangled in her throat. 'I don't think so.' She stood behind the sofa opposite, resting her hands on its padded back. She said, 'I shouldn't be here.'
'Give me one good reason.' His voice was calm.
'Your cousin … '
'Maria's gone to an old schoolfriend in Chelsea. She needs a woman to talk to tonight. Ellie's a great girl. She'll hold her and comfort her, and pour drink into her, then put her on the train back when she's ready. Now come and have your coffee.'
She didn't move. She said, 'Jeremy never gave a damn about me, did he? Not from the first. I suppose I was just a novelty because I wouldn't go to bed with him. Maria said there's always been other women.'
'Yes.' His voice was gentle.
'He made me believe he cared for me while we were in Bristol, but when I came here everything changed. But I didn't want to admit it' She paused. 'The weekend of my birthday-he said there was a conference, but I knew somehow that there wasn't'
Declan nodded, his face carefully expressionless. 'He was at a hotel in the New Forest-with Melinda.'
'Melinda,' she echoed shakily. 'But she's your girlfriend.'
'No,' he said, swiftly and sharply. 'We had a brief affair, but that was over a long time ago. Since then she's been engaged to a mate of mine. But some friends of his were also enjoying the New Forest, and saw Melinda, so the engagement's off.'
'But she was with you tonight' She'd given herself away with that small painful protest, she realised with dismay.
'No,' Declan said forcefully. 'We were in the same room, so she attached herself for a while, that's all. She's an actress, with ambitions to get into TV as a presenter, and she's always seen me as a stepping stone in her career plan.'
He looked at Olivia gravely. 'She met Jeremy here, of course, then they ran into each other at some promotional thing.'
His mouth twisted. 'I gather he exaggerated his earnings, prospects and general importance to impress her, and it worked.' He shook his head. 'But I think he was a little shaken to discover how expensive her favours can be. Bill Fenner's actually had a lucky escape.'