Winter at Cray by Lucy Gillen Page A

lady gave her was both defiant and triumphant, as if the protest was only what she had expected. ‘ Well, it ’ s true, ’ she insisted, ‘ and Jon should be warned. ’
    ‘ Mr. Darrell is quite capable of holding his own, I should say, ’ Louise retorted, stung into her own defence as well as Stephen ’ s. Jonathan Darrell ’ s obvious amusement annoyed her and she resented her great-grandmother ’ s attitude. The old lady had little enough time for most of her family, she knew, but Stephen had always been held in special esteem and it was unfair to discuss him so disparagingly with a stranger.
    The stranger arched one of his expressive brows and sighed in mock regret. ‘ Your great-granddaughter, ’ he informed the old lady solemnly, ‘ doesn ’ t approve of me, Mrs. Kincaid. ’
    ‘ Why ever not? ’ The bright eyes surveyed Louise almost with suspicion. ‘ What ’ s the matter with you, girl? ’
    ‘ There ’ s nothing the matter with me, ’ Louise denied. ‘ And I wish you ’ d stop discussing me; the interview is supposed to concern you, Great-gran, not me. ’ She gave the cause of the dissension a long look that should have put him firmly in his place but failed dismally. ‘ I ’ d be obliged, Mr. Darrell, if you ’ d leave me out of your probing and prying. ’
    ‘ Probing and prying? ’ He looked such a picture of injured innocence that the old lady chuckled softly to herself. ‘ I merely said that you didn ’ t approve of me, ’ he went on, ‘ and you can ’ t deny that, can you? ’ Louise made no answer, not trusting herself to say too much, and he shrugged. ‘ There you are, ’ he said to old Emma, ‘ she doesn ’ t deny it. ’
    ‘ Don ’ t bait the poor girl, ’ Emma Kincaid scolded him mildly. ‘ Tell me what you think of my island — do you like it ?’
    Now, thought Louise, he would either have to lie or face the old lady ’ s displeasure for being too honest.
    ‘ It ’ s probably very nice if you like that sort of thing, ’ he admitted blithely, ‘ but I ’ m no countryman and I don ’ t relish being stranded in a snowbound wilderness. ’
    ‘ My island isn ’ t a wilderness, ’ Emma reproved him shortly, ‘ it ’ s very beautiful, and as soon as this snow clears a bit you must get Louise to show it to you. She loves it. ’
    ‘ So she told me. ’ He sent his slow smile in Louise ’ s direction, but she feigned not to notice it. ‘ I was suitably put in my place right from the start on that score, for daring to criticise it, ’ he added. It was obvious he hoped for a reaction from her, but Louise merely bit her lip angrily and sent him a brief, unfriendly look from under her lashes.
    ‘ Serves you right! ’ old Emma told him without malice. ‘ There ’ s enough of me in Louise to let you know when you say the wrong thing. She ’ s exactly as I was at that age. ’
    ‘ Did you have a temper too? ’ he asked, and Louise could stand no more of it. She got up from her chair again, her eyes angry and embarrassed when they met his.
    ‘ Leave me out of your—your interview or whatever it is, ’ she told him crossly. ‘ I ’ ve told you, Mr. Darrell, I wish you ’ d either discuss my great-grandmother ’ s story, which is the reason you ’ re supposed to be here, or go away. ’
    ‘ I ’ m interested in the whole family, ’ he informed her, undismayed by her display of temper. ‘ And if you ’ re as much like Mrs. Kincaid was at your age, as she claims, then I ’ d like a photograph of the two of you together. A sort of before and after, if you see what I mean. ’
    ‘ I—I don ’ t want to be photographed, ’ Louise insisted, her heart quickening at the thought of it. ‘ I don ’ t have to be photographed if I don ’ t want to be. ’
    ‘ Of course you don ’ t have to be, ’ he agreed, looking at her curiously. ‘ Is there any special reason, or are you just naturally modest ?’ He would have to be sarcastic, Louise thought,