November Harlequin Presents 2(294)

Downstairs, Megan had already gone home for the afternoon, but on the kitchen table she’d left a beautifully prepared cold luncheon, and without much persuading Cryssie sat down and helped herself to fresh bread, salad and cheese. Sitting next to her, Jed poured her a glass of water.

‘Not quite the dinner date we were going to have at the Laurels, is it?’ he murmured. ‘But that one’s on ice for another time.’

Cryssie broke off a piece of bread and buttered it. ‘This’ll do me nicely for now.’ She smiled.

Presently, they walked slowly back to her car, neither wanting to bring this part of the day to an end.

‘Henry has really been through the mill, hasn’t he?’ Cryssie said. ‘He still looks strong enough, but his eyes say it all.’

‘Well, he’ll only ever be as strong as his heart is,’ Jed said slowly. ‘My parents are actually talking about going to live abroad somewhere, where it’s warmer. Well, my mother is, and she’ll persuade my father eventually. Spain, probably, or the South of France, where they can spend at least the cold months of the English winter.’

‘That sounds a very good idea,’ Cryssie said.

‘Yes, but of course at first my father thought he couldn’t possibly be so far away from the business. I told him that was ridiculous. Communications mean that we can be in constant touch, and if necessary we can be together in a matter of a couple of hours or so. Travel’s no problem. Not today.’ He paused. ‘And, as my mother has pointed out, now that you’re part of our set-up, they know that I’ll have all the support I need.’

Cryssie looked at him sharply. Was this another tactic to make her see things his way? Another piece of emotional blackmail? she thought.

‘But…Shepherd’s Keep will feel very empty with just me rattling around in it,’ he ventured, and Cryssie sighed inwardly.

She knew exactly what was behind that remark! Yet somehow it didn’t upset her. What he’d said was a fact, whether he’d meant to add it to his weaponry of persuasion or not. Giving him a sidelong glance, she thought it was hard to think of him living alone in the vast house, with only the elderly Megan to keep some semblance of order and prepare his meals. She didn’t think his culinary skills were up to much, considering the remark he’d made at his London flat about the two omelettes he’d managed to produce.

They reached her car, and reluctantly Jed opened the door for Cryssie to get in—just as her mobile rang.

‘That has to be Polly,’ Cryssie said, frowning. ‘Wonder what she wants—she seldom rings me.’ As she answered it, her face immediately creased in anxiety. ‘What? When, Polly? What do you mean?’

Witnessing her consternation, Jed automatically gripped Cryssie’s hand, putting his arm around her to support her.

‘Tell me again. What time?’ Cryssie’s voice rose to a shrill pitch. ‘How long?’

Jed’s brow furrowed. This was obviously a frantic message.

Then, ‘Call the police now…now, Poll! And don’t leave the house! Stay where you are!’ She looked up at Jed, and he’d never seen her face so contorted in such anguish. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, but Polly was obviously going on talking as Cryssie listened. ‘I’ll be home soon, Polly. Keep calm, Polly. Stop it! Listen to me! Get the police—and stay there!’ Cryssie almost shouted.

She rang off, and stared up at Jed as if the end of the world was happening right then.

‘What the hell is it?’ he demanded.

‘It’s Milo. He’s gone…he’s missing. Polly can’t find him anywhere!’ Then she gathered herself together. ‘I’ve got to go…I’ve got to get home now!’

Jed slammed the door shut and grabbed her arm. ‘We’ll take my car,’ he said. ‘Come on—we’ll get there in half the time!’





CHAPTER FOURTEEN




SICK with apprehension, Cryssie sat stiffly alongside Jed as, tight-lipped, he drove rapidly away from Shepherd’s Keep. They hardly exchanged a word for several minutes. She was so white with fear that at one point she thought she was going to faint—something he was obviously aware of, because, glancing across at her, he muttered tersely, ‘Put your head between your knees, Cryssie! And get a grip—we’ll be there soon!’

A police car was already outside the house, and Jed drew up swiftly behind it. Hardly waiting for him to stop, Cryssie flung open the door and ran up the path. Inside, a policewoman was sitting by Polly on the settee, taking notes, while another officer stood turning the pages of the latest album of photographs of Milo, asking questions soothingly.