not let herself fall in love with him; she had experienced the pain of rejection once, and though Gray seemed to like her, he had no stronger feeling for her. Perhaps it was a good thing for her that he was going away, hut she wished she could eliminate Samantha Lambert. She could sympathise now with the urge which had prompted Lesley to push her off the quay, it would give her immense satisfaction to do the same to Samantha, but being of a gentler disposition than Miss Ferguson, she was immediately ashamed of the thought. It might be Sam had a genuine affection for Gray, and her dislike was prompted by secret jealousy, which she could not justify. For she had no pretensions to have won Gray's love, it was presumptuous to even think of it. That kiss by the mere had only been a diversion to him. He had no doubt kissed Samantha too, and more wholeheartedly than he had her, if he were seriously thinking of marrying her. Frances went in to Margaret to give her an account of the party with a heavy heart.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Lamberts left. Frances saw the luxury launch disappearing down the loch with a feeling of relief. At the conclusion of the party they had all drunk the healths of the competitors, and laughed about friendly rivalry. But Brett’s laugh was forced and his eyes held a malignant gleam; there was no friendship there. Samantha had sighed and said coquettishly:
‘I have to choose between my brother and my . . . boy-friend, so I’ll hope for a draw.'
The pause before ‘boy-friend' was noticeable; she had not quite dared to call Gray her fiancé.
Since Gray was still at Craig Dhu, Frances went every afternoon to the mere, hoping he might join her, but he did not appear. He was very busy finalising his preparations as his departure date drew near, but it was strange that he lingered by the loch, when his home town would have been more convenient. Lesley said it was to avoid his mother’s lamentations, she being the worrying kind. The telephone in the office was always buzzing and Ian was sent daily into Mallaig to collect mail which otherwise might have been delayed.
On the third afternoon after the Lamberts' visit, Frances arrived at the mere and found Gray standing beside it, apparently waiting for her. It was a breezy day, with white clouds scudding over a blue sky, and not very warm. As usual when she caught sight of him unexpectedly, Frances’ heart gave a lurch, and the gladness that welled up in her warned her that she was perilously near losing her heart to him, in spite of her determination not to do so.
‘Too chilly to swim today,’ he decided, and she felt disappointed, wondering why he had come if that were not his intention.
‘Then I might as well go back,’ she said despondently, but she made no move to do so. Caesar was standing beside him and she hoped he might suggest a walk.
He was fidgeting with the buckle of his belt—he wore grey slacks and a blue tee-shirt—and seemed ill at ease. He kept looking at Frances searchngly and then away again as if he had something on his mind concerning her. She hoped he was not going to bring up the subject of Ian, recalling his inimical glances in their direction when the younger man had rescued her at the party. While he was away there would be no barrier to their intimacy, and he might be going to make some proviso concerning him, for he still seemed to be suspicious of their friendship, so much so that Frances hardly dared to speak to Ian in his presence. To her surprise he said suddenly:
‘Let’s go for a row on the loch.’
‘That would be lovely, if you’re sure you can spare the time.’ She spoke demurely, but with a provocative gleam in her eyes. He had ignored her during the past few days.
His grey eyes crinkled amusedly.
‘Been feeling neglected since I haven’t met you here?'
She had, but she would die sooner than admit it. She had no claim upon his time and he had been very good-natured to give her so much of it.
'Of
CHAPTER FOUR
The Lamberts left. Frances saw the luxury launch disappearing down the loch with a feeling of relief. At the conclusion of the party they had all drunk the healths of the competitors, and laughed about friendly rivalry. But Brett’s laugh was forced and his eyes held a malignant gleam; there was no friendship there. Samantha had sighed and said coquettishly:
‘I have to choose between my brother and my . . . boy-friend, so I’ll hope for a draw.'
The pause before ‘boy-friend' was noticeable; she had not quite dared to call Gray her fiancé.
Since Gray was still at Craig Dhu, Frances went every afternoon to the mere, hoping he might join her, but he did not appear. He was very busy finalising his preparations as his departure date drew near, but it was strange that he lingered by the loch, when his home town would have been more convenient. Lesley said it was to avoid his mother’s lamentations, she being the worrying kind. The telephone in the office was always buzzing and Ian was sent daily into Mallaig to collect mail which otherwise might have been delayed.
On the third afternoon after the Lamberts' visit, Frances arrived at the mere and found Gray standing beside it, apparently waiting for her. It was a breezy day, with white clouds scudding over a blue sky, and not very warm. As usual when she caught sight of him unexpectedly, Frances’ heart gave a lurch, and the gladness that welled up in her warned her that she was perilously near losing her heart to him, in spite of her determination not to do so.
‘Too chilly to swim today,’ he decided, and she felt disappointed, wondering why he had come if that were not his intention.
‘Then I might as well go back,’ she said despondently, but she made no move to do so. Caesar was standing beside him and she hoped he might suggest a walk.
He was fidgeting with the buckle of his belt—he wore grey slacks and a blue tee-shirt—and seemed ill at ease. He kept looking at Frances searchngly and then away again as if he had something on his mind concerning her. She hoped he was not going to bring up the subject of Ian, recalling his inimical glances in their direction when the younger man had rescued her at the party. While he was away there would be no barrier to their intimacy, and he might be going to make some proviso concerning him, for he still seemed to be suspicious of their friendship, so much so that Frances hardly dared to speak to Ian in his presence. To her surprise he said suddenly:
‘Let’s go for a row on the loch.’
‘That would be lovely, if you’re sure you can spare the time.’ She spoke demurely, but with a provocative gleam in her eyes. He had ignored her during the past few days.
His grey eyes crinkled amusedly.
‘Been feeling neglected since I haven’t met you here?'
She had, but she would die sooner than admit it. She had no claim upon his time and he had been very good-natured to give her so much of it.
'Of
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