Leopard In The Snow
Шрифт:
“Milk and sugar, or lemon?” he enquired, the tawny eyes annoyingly disconcerting. But with her newly restored self-confidence, Helen refused to be intimidated.
“Milk, but no sugar, thank you,” she replied, and as he poured the tea she went on: “Don’t you think it’s time we exchanged names?”
The man finished pouring the tea, added milk, and handed the cup to her. “If it’s important to you,” he conceded dryly.
Helen gasped. “You mean you would ask a complete stranger to share your house without caring what that person’s name was?”
“Perhaps I consider the kind of person one is rather more important than one’s name,” he suggested, continuing to look at her, his eyes unblinking. “For example, I don’t need to know your name to know that you’re a rather headstrong young woman who doesn’t always take the advice that’s offered to her.”
Helen flushed. “How can you know that?” she exclaimed scornfully.
He shrugged. “It’s unusual, is it not, to find a young woman like yourself driving alone in conditions like these and apparently, as you’ve admitted you have suitcases with you, prepared to stay somewhere.” He frowned. “You may have arranged to meet someone, of course, and yet you seem unconcerned at being delayed overnight.”
Helen sipped her tea. “Women have been known to make journeys alone, you know,” she retorted.
“In conditions like these? It’s not usual.”
“I – I may be a working girl – a representative of some sort.”
“Who’s lost her way?”
“Yes.”
“Possible. But not probable.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think you are a working girl.”
Helen uttered an impatient exclamation. “Why not?”
“The way you spoke to Bolt. As though you were used to having people run about after you.”
Helen sighed. She had the feeling that in any argument with him she would come out the loser. And he was offering her his hospitality, after all. Perhaps she could be a little more gracious in accepting it. It wasn’t like her to behave so cattily. But something about him brought out the worst in her.
“All right,” she conceded at last. “So I’m not a working girl. As a matter of fact, you’re right. My name is Helen James. I’m Philip James’ daughter.”
“Should that name mean something to me?” he enquired, somewhat sardonically. She noticed he did not take tea but helped himself to a sandwich after she had refused. “I’m afraid I’m rather – out of touch.”
He smiled and for a moment he looked years younger. Helen’s lips parted. His face! Something about his face was familiar. She had seen it before – she was sure of it. But where? And when? And in what connection?
Forcing herself to answer his question even while her brain turned over the enigma endlessly, she said: “My father is Sir Philip James. His company won an award for industry last year. Thorpe Engineering.”
The man shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Helen felt impatient. “And you? You haven’t told me your name?”
“Tell me first what you’re doing here – miles from the kind of civilization I’m sure you’re used to.”
Helen bit her lip. “As a matter of fact I – needed to get away on my own for a while. I needed time to think and my father will never dream of looking for me here.”
The man frowned. “You mean – you’ve run away?”
“Hardly that. I left my father a note. He doesn’t have to worry about me.”
“But he will.”
“Perhaps.” Helen moved uncomfortably. “In any event, none of this need concern you. I’m only grateful that you came along as you did. I could have been in real difficulties if you hadn’t.”
“You could. You could have died out there – in the snow.” His voice was low-pitched and for a moment Helen felt a tingle of remembered apprehension. “It was very foolish of you to let no one know where you were going. Don’t you realise that your car could have been buried for days before anyone found it – or you? Tell me, why was it so important that you should get away?”
Helen felt indignant. “I don’t think that’s any business of yours.”
“Nonetheless, I am curious. Satisfy the curiosity of one who no longer inhabits the world you come from.”
Helen stared at him. What a strange thing to say! Surely even the remoteness of this district in winter did not cut one off completely from the outside world. Unless one chose it to be so … She shook her head.
“My father wants to run my life for me,” she said slowly. “But I’m twenty-two – and possibly too independent, as you implied. We – disagreed over a small matter.”
“I don’t think it can have been such a small matter to bring you more than two hundred miles in the depths of winter, Miss James, but never mind. I respect your desire to keep your personal affairs private.”
Helen’s mouth turned down at the corners. It was hardly a concession. Leaning forward to replace her empty cup on the tray, she said: “And you? Don’t you find it lonely living here, miles from anywhere, with only Bolt for company?”
The man’s thick lashes veiled his eyes. “I’m a most uninteresting individual, Miss James. Can I offer you more tea?”
Helen declined, pressing her lips together impatiently. “Why are you avoiding answering me?” she demanded.
“Was I doing that?” His tone was mild, but his tawny eyes were watchful.
“You know you were.” Helen sighed, a frown drawing her dark brows together. “I know your face from somewhere. I’m almost sure I’ve seen you before – either in the flesh or on film!”
“You’re very flattering,” he mocked. “Isn’t that usually the male’s prerogative?”
Helen was annoyed to find that he could embarrass her. It was a new experience for her. “You know what I mean. I have seen your face before, haven’t I?”