satisfaction or exasperation, she could not tell.
Graystocks was a big Georgian manor, floodlit from the drive and gardens, and with additional light spilling from the windows and open front door. Cars, she noticed, were still arriving.
Rohan drove round to the side of the house and through an arched gateway into a large cobbled yard where he stopped. He said, 'I'm sorry this is the back way, but it will make it easier to find Nanny for Jodie.' Moving gently so as not to disturb the dozing child, he lifted her from the rear of the car, then walked with her into the house, while Cass followed.
The domestic area of the house seemed vast to Cass, used to one small kitchenette, and crowded with people. She found herself wondering how many were permanent staff, and how many merely hired for the evening. Rohan led the way, regardless of the bustle going on around him, to a door opening on to a steep flight of stairs.
Nanny, a tall, rather gaunt woman with a serene face, was waiting at the top of the stairs.
'Good evening, sir,' she said calmly. She sent Cass an appraising glance. 'And good evening to you, madam. If you could bring the little girl along, we'll pop her into bed.' She sent Cass a peculiarly sweet smile as if she divined her inner unrest. 'There's really no need to worry about her. She'll be safe here.'
As Cass murmured her thanks, Rohan appeared again. 'We'll go downstairs,' he ordained abruptly. 'You can check on her later, if you wish.'
'Of course I wish,' she retorted, nettled. She bit her lip. 'I suppose you think I'm being over-fussy, but she has had problems—and she's all I've got,' she added defensively.
He sent her an ironic look, but his voice was politely expressionless as he said, 'Of course.'
A tidal wave of noise seemed to flow towards them as they emerged from the nursery wing, and walked along a broad gallery towards the main staircase. Cass could hear the throb of disco music mixed with the buzz of voices and laughter, and nervousness swept over her. Joining the party in the company of the master of the house was not her idea of an unobtrusive entrance. She hung back slightly, pretending to examine some of the portraits on the walls. One in particular caught her eye, and she stared at it, her interest real. The subject was a tall woman, her hair swept up into one of the elaborate styles which preceded the Great War, her slender throat circled by a pearl choker. She was beautiful, but it was the serene laughter in her eyes which gave the portrait its character.
'My grandmother,' Rohan said. 'The Eve after whom the cosmetic company was named. I told you once it was dear to my heart, and now you know why.' He added mockingly, 'I do have these occasional flashes of humanity.'
It was a side of him she would prefer not to be aware of, Cass thought, turning blindly away without replying.
She was bitterly aware of the curious glances coming her way as she descended the staircase by Rohan's side.
'So you made it.' It was a girl's voice amused and satisfied, and Cass turned abruptly to find herself being confronted by someone tall with brown hair and hazel eyes, and a familiarly lazy grin curving her mouth.
'Yes, we are alike, aren't we?' she said cordially as if Cass had spoken. 'But,' she lowered her voice. 'I wouldn't let my predatory brother see you gaping like that or he might think all hope was not dead.' She held out her hand. 'Jodie, I presume, is already dead to the world upstairs. I look forward to making her acquaintance tomorrow. You are going to let her stay?'
Cass said stiffly, 'It seems so. I was given little choice.'
Marcia laughed. 'A family trait, I'm afraid. I hope you'll forgive us for steamrollering you like this. But I'm sure it will be good for her, and marvellous for the boys. I suppose I can't persuade you to be our guest too.'
'I'm afraid not.'
Marcia sighed. 'I was afraid of that too,' she acknowledged with a rueful grin. She was wearing a black dress which had
Graystocks was a big Georgian manor, floodlit from the drive and gardens, and with additional light spilling from the windows and open front door. Cars, she noticed, were still arriving.
Rohan drove round to the side of the house and through an arched gateway into a large cobbled yard where he stopped. He said, 'I'm sorry this is the back way, but it will make it easier to find Nanny for Jodie.' Moving gently so as not to disturb the dozing child, he lifted her from the rear of the car, then walked with her into the house, while Cass followed.
The domestic area of the house seemed vast to Cass, used to one small kitchenette, and crowded with people. She found herself wondering how many were permanent staff, and how many merely hired for the evening. Rohan led the way, regardless of the bustle going on around him, to a door opening on to a steep flight of stairs.
Nanny, a tall, rather gaunt woman with a serene face, was waiting at the top of the stairs.
'Good evening, sir,' she said calmly. She sent Cass an appraising glance. 'And good evening to you, madam. If you could bring the little girl along, we'll pop her into bed.' She sent Cass a peculiarly sweet smile as if she divined her inner unrest. 'There's really no need to worry about her. She'll be safe here.'
As Cass murmured her thanks, Rohan appeared again. 'We'll go downstairs,' he ordained abruptly. 'You can check on her later, if you wish.'
'Of course I wish,' she retorted, nettled. She bit her lip. 'I suppose you think I'm being over-fussy, but she has had problems—and she's all I've got,' she added defensively.
He sent her an ironic look, but his voice was politely expressionless as he said, 'Of course.'
A tidal wave of noise seemed to flow towards them as they emerged from the nursery wing, and walked along a broad gallery towards the main staircase. Cass could hear the throb of disco music mixed with the buzz of voices and laughter, and nervousness swept over her. Joining the party in the company of the master of the house was not her idea of an unobtrusive entrance. She hung back slightly, pretending to examine some of the portraits on the walls. One in particular caught her eye, and she stared at it, her interest real. The subject was a tall woman, her hair swept up into one of the elaborate styles which preceded the Great War, her slender throat circled by a pearl choker. She was beautiful, but it was the serene laughter in her eyes which gave the portrait its character.
'My grandmother,' Rohan said. 'The Eve after whom the cosmetic company was named. I told you once it was dear to my heart, and now you know why.' He added mockingly, 'I do have these occasional flashes of humanity.'
It was a side of him she would prefer not to be aware of, Cass thought, turning blindly away without replying.
She was bitterly aware of the curious glances coming her way as she descended the staircase by Rohan's side.
'So you made it.' It was a girl's voice amused and satisfied, and Cass turned abruptly to find herself being confronted by someone tall with brown hair and hazel eyes, and a familiarly lazy grin curving her mouth.
'Yes, we are alike, aren't we?' she said cordially as if Cass had spoken. 'But,' she lowered her voice. 'I wouldn't let my predatory brother see you gaping like that or he might think all hope was not dead.' She held out her hand. 'Jodie, I presume, is already dead to the world upstairs. I look forward to making her acquaintance tomorrow. You are going to let her stay?'
Cass said stiffly, 'It seems so. I was given little choice.'
Marcia laughed. 'A family trait, I'm afraid. I hope you'll forgive us for steamrollering you like this. But I'm sure it will be good for her, and marvellous for the boys. I suppose I can't persuade you to be our guest too.'
'I'm afraid not.'
Marcia sighed. 'I was afraid of that too,' she acknowledged with a rueful grin. She was wearing a black dress which had
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