He straightened and said casually, ‘Menacing women and children might be up your street, Stan—I, can’t honestly say it surprises me—but it isn’t up mine. So beat it, mate, and if I were you I wouldn’t return.’
‘Well, well,’ drawled Stan Hawkins, ‘I wonder what brings you to this neck of the woods, Mr Milroy? Let me guess.’
‘Don’t bother, Stan,’ Adam advised, and moved aside. And although his words were mild enough there was something in his voice that sent a shiver down Roz’s spine.
It seemed to have a similar effect on Stan Hawkins, because he started to bluster then about having legitimate business with Roz, but as those dark eyes held his mercilessly, he ran out of steam and finally picked up his jacket and stormed out.
Roz stayed as still as a statue until she heard his car drive away, then she moved precipitously and dashed out of the kitchen door just in time and to her despair was sick in the flower bed below the steps.
‘I … I …’ she whispered.
‘It’s all right,’ Adam Milroy said prosaically. ‘Why don’t you go inside and have a wash while I find a spade.’
‘But …’
‘No buts. Actually,’ he smiled at her, ‘I’m quite used to this. I have a sister who gets car-sick, plane-sick—I suspect she could get sick on a bicycle if she put her heart and soul into it! Off you go.’
Roz hesitated painfully, then took his advice.
He must have found a spade pretty quickly because he was back in the kitchen before she was and he’d put the kettle on and some toast into the toaster.
‘I …’ she began.
‘Sit down,’ he ordered.
‘I … I’ll make it,’ she said with an effort. ‘I’d rather.’
Adam Milroy looked at her thoughtfully and then smiled, a battened-down version, but all the same … Then he sat down and said, ‘I’m Adam, by the way, and I believe we’ve met, but it was years ago and I can’t remember your name, though I’ve got the feeling it was something unusual.’
‘Rozalinda… er … but everyone calls me Roz, with a z.’
He raised his dark eyebrows. ‘I was right.’
‘It was my father’s idea. I don’t know why.’
‘Roz,’ he said slowly.
The toast popped up and the kettle whistled and she didn’t have to say anything more until she’d set out the tea things. In fact, when she tried to speak then, he motioned her to eat and drink first.
‘Now,’ he said at last, ‘I didn’t hear all of that unpleasant conversation, but I gather some disaster befell your grandfather?’
She told him, haltingly at first, and then like a rising tide that could not be stemmed it all came out—including her anguish that her grandfather, beloved as he had been, could have virtually gambled away Amanda Belle’s precious foal.
‘It’s like a disease, my dear, ’ Adam Milroy said quietly.
‘But he was so wonderful in every other way!’
‘I know. So,’ his dark gaze flickered over her, ‘you’ve been left in dire straits, young Roz. How old are you?’
‘Nineteen, nearly,’ she said indistinctly as she swallowed the last of her tea. ‘And I don’t mind being left with nothing so much, but the thought of having to hand Nimmitabel over to that … that man …’
‘Nimmitabel?’ he interrupted. ‘Oh, I get it. Mount Kosciusko, the Snowy Mountains, Nimmitabel which is in that area and also reflects Amanda Belle.’ He smiled. ‘Well chosen, but there’s no question of you having to hand the foal over to Stan Hawkins.’
‘Then why did he come?‘ Her blue eyes were round.
‘Because he hoped to frighten you into doing just that, probably,’ Adam Milroy said grimly. ‘Although legally …’ he shrugged. ‘He could have had a crafty plan up his sleeve to backdate the transaction. What’s the situation on this place?’ He looked around.
‘Mortgaged,’ Roz said tearfully.
‘And your grandfather had other debts apart from bookmakers?’
She nodded. ‘The feed merchant, the vet She gestured helplessly.
‘And he left it all to you?’
She said sadly, ‘He didn’t plan to die!’
‘I know. I meant, are you his sole beneficiary?‘
‘Oh. Yes.’
‘All right. Adam Milroy drummed his fingers on the table, then said interrogatively, ‘Do you know what happens now?’