Without warning he gripped her arms…

“Mr. Tenby—”

One hand still held her while the other slid its way up her arm. Then he released her.

“Get out of that damned uniform and wear something civilized,” he ordered.

“Very well, sir.”

“Very well, sir,” he echoed. “Such a cool voice. Such a neutral voice. God, I wish I could see your face this minute.”

“It’s a neutral face, too,” she assured him. “Just treat me as a piece of machinery.”

“There’s machinery in my factory. It smells of axle grease, not wildflowers, as you do.”

Elinor was startled. “I came up because I’m not happy about you having too many people in here just now,” she said quickly. “You still need a lot of rest and I—”

“No, I think you should listen while I make a few things plain,” he interrupted her. “I’ve been ill as long as I can afford to be. So if I want to talk to my manager, I’ll do so. You’ll do what I say, when I say, and that’s final. Now clear out before I start getting angry.”

Lucy Gordon cut her writing teeth on magazine journalism, interviewing many of the world’s most interesting men, including Warren Beatty, Richard Chamberlain, Roger Moore, Sir Alec Guinness and Sir John Gielgud. She also camped out with lions in Africa, and had many other unusual experiences which have often provided the background for her books.

She is married to a Venetian, whom she met while on holiday in Venice. They got engaged within two days, and have now been married for twenty-five years. They live in England, in the Midlands, with their two dogs.

One of her books, His Brother’s Child, won the Romance Writers of America RITA Award in 1998, in the Best Traditional Romance category.

Books by Lucy Gordon

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3515—THE DIAMOND DAD

3529—BE MY GIRL!

3548—BEAUTY AND THE BOSS

3561—FARELLI’S WIFE

Taming Jason
Lucy Gordon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

PROLOGUE

SHE wouldn’t cry. No matter how desperately she longed to, she wouldn’t cry and let the hated Jason Tenby know how badly he’d hurt her.

Cindy Smith pressed her hands against her mouth to force back the sobs. Through the blur of tears she could see the countryside flashing past the car. With each mile she was moving further away from the man she loved.

Jason Tenby sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the road. He never once glanced her way and she knew he was indifferent to her broken heart.

There was power in every line of him, from the arrogant set of his head to the way his hands rested on the wheel, controlling it with the lightest of touches.

For him, control was everything. It had maddened him that his younger brother, Simon, had chosen a girl from the wrong side of the tracks to marry into the proud Tenby family. So he’d set himself to smash the engagement. And he’d done so with brutal efficiency.

Although he was still in his late twenties his face had an authority that he’d inherited. Generations of Tenbys had lived at Tenby Manor, ruling the surrounding countryside, either openly or through subtle influence. Jason Tenby was the last of a long line of masters.

The girl sitting beside him was no match for him. She was eighteen, with fine bones and a delicate, vulnerable face. In her short life she’d known poverty but not harshness, and her first brush with implacable force had left her devastated.

‘We’ll reach the station in five minutes,’ Jason said. ‘Plenty of time for you to catch your train.’

‘You’ve no right to do this,’ she said wildly.

‘We’ve been through all that.’ His voice sounded bored and impatient. ‘It wouldn’t have worked. Take my word for it, Simon wasn’t the husband for you.’

‘Because he’s a Tenby, and my mother used to scrub floors for you,’ she said accusingly.

‘Look, don’t—’

‘You decided to break us up as soon as Simon introduced me, didn’t you?’

‘More or less, yes. But don’t make a tragedy out of this. You’re eighteen. Your heart will mend fast enough.’

‘It’s so easy for you!’ she cried. ‘You give your orders and everyone else has to fall in line. But I didn’t, did I? I wouldn’t take your money or listen to your hints about how I didn’t fit in—’

‘I was only trying—’

‘So when you couldn’t break me any other way you—you—’ Suddenly her control broke. ‘Oh, God, how could you do it?’ she sobbed. ‘How could you be so cruel?’

‘We’ve arrived,’ he said, halting the car. ‘Don’t make a scene in public. I know what you think of me, and it doesn’t matter.’

‘Nothing matters to you but getting rid of me.’

‘I’ll certainly be happier when I’ve seen you onto that train.’

When the train pulled in he shoved her bag inside, and urged her in after it.

‘Don’t cry, little girl,’ he said in a gentler voice. ‘And try not to hate me. Believe me, this is best.’ He slammed the door.

The guard blew his whistle. Quickly Cindy pulled down the window and leaned out, looking right into his harsh face.

‘But I do hate you,’ she choked. ‘I hate you because you trample over people and don’t care about their feelings. You got rid of me because you thought I wasn’t good enough. Well, I’m going to prove you wrong, and then I’m coming back.’

‘Don’t come back,’ he said harshly. ‘Stay right away from this family.’

The train was beginning to move.

‘Do you hear?’ she called. ‘One day I’ll come back.’

He didn’t try to answer, but stood looking after her until the last moment. She thought she saw a look of surprise on his face.

She’d sworn to return, but only out of pride. How could she ever go back to the place from which she’d been so cruelly ejected?

And yet it happened.

Six years later Nurse Elinor Lucinda Smith returned to Tenby Manor as the last hope of her enemy, Jason Tenby, who was lying blind, crippled and alone.

CHAPTER ONE

IT WAS dark in the room, and very quiet. The man in the bed lay in the mute blackness of despair.

Nurse Smith watched him for a moment before saying, ‘Good afternoon, Mr Tenby.’

Silence. He might have been dead.

His eyes were covered, as they had been ever since the accident that had almost killed him. Elinor knew how bad the injuries beneath those bandages were. She looked at his hands lying on the coverlet. Such big, ruthless hands, like the man himself. Jason Tenby had enforced his will on all who crossed his path, but today he was helpless, at the mercy of a woman who called him her enemy.

Elinor Smith pulled herself together. She was a nurse, sworn to protect the sick and vulnerable, and this man was both. It didn’t matter that he’d smashed her love and condemned her to a lonely wilderness. It was her job to care for him.

‘I don’t want any more damned nurses,’ the man said tiredly.

‘I know. They told me at the agency.’

‘The last two ran away.’

‘You mean they stormed out in indignation.’

Jason Tenby gave a grunt. ‘You’ve heard about that too?’

‘The head of the agency told me everything. He said it was fairer to warn me about you.’

‘So you’ve only yourself to blame for ignoring his warning.’

‘That’s right. I’ve only myself to blame.’

‘How long, I wonder, before you storm out?’

‘It’ll take more than you can throw at me.’ She was feeling her way, sensing that a robust approach would work best with this patient. Sympathy would merely drive him crazy. He was already on the edge of endurance, clinging on with frantic fingertips to a crumbling sanity.

She looked around his old-fashioned room, with its big oak bed and heavy oak furniture. The carpet was a deep brown, and russet curtains hung at the tall windows.

It was an intensely masculine room with nothing soft or gentle about it. The man who lived in this wealthy house spent little on his personal needs. A hard man. A comfortless man in a comfortless desert.

‘And your name?’ he asked at last.

‘Nurse Smith.’

‘I meant your first name.’

‘I think Nurse Smith is best for the moment.’

‘The formal approach, huh?’

‘It’ll make it easier for you to yell at me.’

‘I guess it will at that. Tell me what you look like.’

‘I wear a white uniform and a white cap. And black, sensible shoes.’

In the long pause that followed, she could sense him sizing her up.

‘By God, you’re a cool one!’ he said at last.

‘I’m here to help you, Mr Tenby. That’s all that matters. I want to see you up and walking, as you used to.’

His voice had a bitter edge. ‘And you really think that can happen? Have you read the notes?’

‘Yes. There was a fire in your stables. You went in to rescue a horse and the roof fell on you.’

Another grunt. ‘Damned horse wasn’t even there. Someone else had already got it out.’

‘It must have been hard having all this happen for nothing,’ Elinor agreed. ‘You were lucky not to have been seriously burned.’

‘Yes, people keep telling me how lucky I was,’ said the sightless figure on the bed.

‘You were partially protected by the beams that fell on you. Because of them your burns were superficial, and have now healed. So have your ribs. Your back’s injured and your sight has been damaged, but with luck that won’t last.’

‘You’re just giving me the same line they all do. But you don’t believe it either.’

It was true. She was nowhere near convinced that he would see or walk again. But he had to be convinced of it if he were to have a chance.

‘I believe it can happen if we work at it together,’ she said firmly. ‘And that’s what we’re going to do.’

Suddenly his brows drew together and he covered his bandaged eyes with his hand. Elinor could see that something vital inside him had cracked.

‘For God’s sake, go!’ he said in a shaking voice. ‘Just leave me.’

‘Certainly.’ She closed the door firmly so that he could hear that she’d gone.

Mrs Hadwick, the housekeeper, was waiting in the corridor.

‘All your bags have been taken upstairs, miss,’ she said. ‘I’ll show you the way.’

Because she was on edge over her meeting with Jason, Elinor had chosen to visit him first, before even going to her room. Now she followed the housekeeper down the corridor and round the corner. And, with alarm, she realised where she was going.

‘This room—’ she said.

‘It’s the best guest room,’ Mrs Hadwick said, pushing open a door. ‘I’ll send you up some tea.’ She vanished.

The room was big and imposing, with a four poster bed in the centre. There was a dressing table, an ordinary table and chair, and a big, comfortable armchair. There were two tall windows with drapes that swept the floor. Nothing had changed since the last time she’d slept here, six years ago.

Until now she’d managed to control her memories, but in this place they came flooding back.

Simon seemed to be with her, young and handsome, full of love and eagerness, as he’d been the day he first brought her to his home as his future bride, driving with one arm around her shoulders, and one on the wheel of his gleaming new sports car. They’d swept up the long avenue of oaks until suddenly the house had come into view, and she’d gasped at its beauty and splendour.

‘Simon, I never dreamed—that can’t be your home?’

‘What’s the matter with it?’

‘I’ve never been in a place like that before. I grew up in one of those shabby little back-to-back places at the town end. My mother was a cleaner in your father’s factory.’

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘No, really? Tell me.’

‘She used to do the early morning shift. One day she took me with her. It was against the rules, but otherwise I’d have had to stay at home in an empty house. We nearly got away with it, but one morning I bumped into your brother.’

‘Jason? You mean you’ve already met? Suppose he remembers you?’

‘I was eight years old. He won’t know me after all these years. You mustn’t tell him. Promise.’

‘I promise.’

‘Cross your heart and hope to die. Oh, dear, I wish now I hadn’t told you.’

‘Darling, that really hurts me. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust?’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean that. Truly I didn’t. Of course I trust you, but don’t you see? I don’t belong here.’

‘You belong with me,’ he said firmly.

How desperately she loved him. It seemed as if her slender form must shatter with the force of her love.

As they neared the house she saw a tall man standing on the steps. He’d been a teenager when she’d glimpsed him in the factory, but she had no trouble recognising him again as Jason Tenby.

He must have been a good six foot two, with broad shoulders and a certain massiveness about his presence that had more to do with his air than his build. His hair was dark brown with a touch of red, and his skin was tanned as though he spent a lot of time outdoors. He wore riding breeches and a tweed jacket and stood at his ease, one foot on the lowest step, his hands thrust into his breeches pocket. He looked for all the world like a patriarch watching the hordes advancing on his domain, sizing up a threat.

‘How do you do, Miss Smith?’ His voice was deep and vibrant. Had she imagined it contained a sneer, as though he was mocking her for her commonplace name?

His very handshake was unnerving. Her delicate hand was swallowed up in his great fist, and she almost gasped from the strength of his grip and the sense of power that came from him.

She remembered every moment of her first evening at Tenby Manor. It was the first time she’d been in a house where people dressed for dinner. At least, she thought, she could live up to her surroundings, for she had an expensive long gown and a delicate sapphire pendant, both of them Simon’s gifts. He was wonderfully handsome in dinner jacket and black tie, although even her adoring eyes could see that he was cast into the shadow by his brother.

Simon was twenty, slim and mercurial, with fair, boyish looks and rapid speech. Jason was twenty-eight with slow, thoughtful speech and an authority beyond his years.

Simon enchanted her. Jason awed her.

There was only a slight brotherly likeness between them. Already Jason’s face was harsh with experience, and there was a firmness about his mouth and chin that revealed his impatience with fools, or with anyone who disagreed with him. Yet when in repose his mouth had an unexpected curve, suggesting humour, sensuality, even charm. She grew nervous whenever he looked at her because his dark eyes seemed to swallow light, and it was impossible to read his thoughts in them.

The walls of the grand dining room were lined with portraits of Tenby ancestors, and under their censorious eyes she was sure she would use the wrong knife and fork, or knock over one of the lead-crystal glasses. But it wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. Jason talked to her cordially enough, and showed no sign of recognising her from years ago. Afterwards he showed her around the grand house, and they sat talking in the library.

‘So, how did you meet my brother?’ he asked, handing her a sherry.

‘Hasn’t Simon told you?’

‘I’d like to hear your version. He has a tendency to—shall we say—embellish things?’

She nodded. ‘He does have a wonderful imagination,’ she agreed eagerly. To his dour brother Simon’s tendency to get carried away might be maddening, but after her dull life it was a glorious plus.

‘Wonderful,’ Jason echoed. Then, unexpectedly, he grinned. She couldn’t help herself smiling back, and for a moment a flash of understanding passed between them.

‘I was working in a shoe shop,’ she said with a touch of defiance. ‘And Simon came in to buy some shoes.’

He’d stayed two hours and left with five pairs— ‘because I couldn’t tear myself away from your sweet face’, he’d said over dinner that night.

‘Have you done any other kind of work?’ Jason asked.

‘I was going to train as a nurse, but my mother became ill and I stayed at home to look after her until she died.’

‘And you didn’t start your training then?’

‘Well—then I met Simon,’ she said, and nothing could have stopped the gentle smile that crept over her face.

She heard a sound like a sharp intake of breath and looked up quickly to find Jason staring at her, hard-eyed.

‘What does your father do?’ he demanded abruptly.

‘He’s been dead for ten years.’

Joe Smith had fallen into a ditch while weaving his drunken way home from the pub, gone to sleep in a foot of water and never woken again. She could imagine what this stern man would make of such a story.

She noticed Jason frowning as she spoke, and suddenly he leaned towards her and said, ‘You really are Brenda Smith’s daughter. I couldn’t believe it at first—’

So he’d recognised her after all, she thought in despair.

‘Yes, I—that is—’

‘And we met that day in the factory. Well, well! A little more sherry?’

While she was sipping he suddenly demanded, ‘What made you choose that dress?’

Taken off guard, she did what came naturally to her, and replied with complete honesty. ‘Simon chose it.’

‘So I would have supposed,’ he replied dryly. ‘Paid for it too, I dare say.’

‘I didn’t ask him to—’

‘Don’t say a word. I know my brother. That thing is much too old and sophisticated for you.’

‘I—I thought it would be suitable,’ she stammered.

‘You mean you thought you should dress up and pretend to be something you’re not. Damned idiotic idea! Who do you think you’re fooling?’

Her cheeks flamed. He saw it and added more kindly, ‘Don’t take it to heart. I’m a plain man—a rough man, some would say—and I talk plainly. And, in plain words, you and Simon are a mistake.’

‘You can’t tell that in one evening.’

‘I could tell it in one minute.’

To her relief Simon came looking for them then. Jason said no more, but let Simon take her away for a stroll in the garden.

‘He knows me,’ she said, distraught. ‘He recognised me all the time. It’s not funny—’ Simon had broken into a chuckle.

‘I’m sorry, darling,’ he choked. ‘What did he actually say?’

‘He said, “You really are Brenda Smith’s daughter. I couldn’t believe it at first—”. Oh, Simon, don’t you see what that means? He saw it during dinner and he kept it to himself until he was ready.’

‘Did he tell you what made him realise?’ Simon asked in a curious voice.

‘No. Oh, what does that matter? He was laughing at me all that time.’

‘He enjoys being one up on people,’ Simon agreed.

‘What else did he say?’

‘Isn’t that enough? He despises me because I haven’t got any “background.”’

His laugh came echoing down the years to her now. How young and delightful he’d been! How generous and full of charm! ‘Who cares about background?’

Her name was Elinor Lucinda, but Simon called her Cindy. Cindy for Lucinda, but also—

‘Cindy for Cinderella,’ he teased. ‘My little Cinderella.’

Her poverty enchanted him. ‘I love giving you things,’ he said that first night as they walked under the trees. ‘I’m going to cover you with diamonds.’

‘But I don’t want diamonds. Just your love, my darling. Nothing but your love.’

‘You can have that as well, all tied up with a big shiny bow, and anything else you ask for.’

Lost in delight, she hardly realised that they’d returned to the house and were crossing the hall. Only then did she see Jason, standing on the stairs, close enough to hear Simon’s extravagant promises. But her own voice was softer, and Jason had probably missed her gentle protest.

She had a brief glimpse of his face, dark and angry, before he turned away.

Jason never mentioned what he’d overheard, but in a dozen ways he made it clear that Simon was dependent on him for money. Simon confirmed it.

‘I inherit plenty under my father’s will, but Jason’s got the purse-strings until I’m twenty-five,’ he said with a shrug. ‘So what? How can he stop me using my credit cards? And when the money is spent, how can he refuse to pay up? It’s my money, after all. Don’t worry about it.’

That was his philosophy of life. Don’t worry about it. And somehow things always worked out Simon’s way. Living under his spell, as she did, it was easy to believe they always would.

She guessed it was no accident that their bedrooms were at opposite ends of the great house. In fact Jason’s precautions were needless. The young girl hadn’t yet offered herself totally to the man she adored, and she loved Simon more for respecting her wishes. The day would come soon when they would be one in flesh as they were one in heart and soul. But just for now she was enjoying this sweet time of anticipation.

So Jason’s resolve to keep his brother out of her bed was an insult. He couldn’t have said more clearly that he saw her as a schemer. And at last she heard those words from his own lips. She came across the brothers by accident, and couldn’t help overhearing Jason’s voice.

‘You young fool. You’re not going anywhere near her room if I have to bar the way myself…The last thing I want is that girl getting pregnant…’

She fled before they could discover her. She would have liked to flee Tenby Manor altogether, but there was a strong inner core beneath her gentle exterior, and it made her determined to stay and fight for her love. Yes, even to fight Jason Tenby himself. And she knew he was a formidable foe.

‘Why don’t you chuck Simon back into the sea?’ Jason asked once. ‘You’ll find other fish that suit you better.’

‘I’ll never love anyone but Simon,’ she said fervently.

‘Then you’re a fool.’

‘And Simon? Is he a fool?’ she asked, more bravely than she felt.

‘Yes, because he believes in the same kind of love that you do. I’ve seen his infatuations before. He enjoys the romantic stage, putting the girl on a pedestal, buying her gifts, asking for nothing back.’

He said the last words with a sneer that stung her into retorting, ‘I can’t imagine you asking for nothing back.’

‘Then you’re a good judge of character,’ he said with a raffish grin. ‘The romantic bit is all very nice, but I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces, sort out the broken hearts, the whole boring thing.’

‘But you’ve got it all wrong,’ she said passionately. ‘I understand why you’re concerned for your brother, but I won’t break his heart—’

‘Only his bank account, eh?’

‘That’s a wicked thing to say—’

‘Look, I’ve seen some of the presents he’s given you—all bought with money he doesn’t have.’

‘I don’t ask him to—’

‘Sure you don’t. You don’t need to. He enjoys splashing out. Well, I can be generous too—for a purpose.’ He named a sum of money.

‘Are you trying to buy me off?’ she demanded, outraged.

He shrugged. ‘Put it how you like. It’s a good bargain.’

‘And my-self respect? How would I buy that back?’

‘That’s a good line. I’ll up the offer a little, but not much.’

‘You could double it and I still wouldn’t be interested.’

‘No, don’t overplay your hand. I won’t double it.’

Furiously she stormed off, but at the last minute something made her turn back to look at him, standing there, regarding her with a sceptical look.

She was used to waking early, and she enjoyed getting up with the dawn to look out of her window and watch the sun rising over the Tenby estate. At such moments she could forget the tensions that swirled around her, spoiling this beautiful place.

But then one morning it was spoilt anyway, by the sight of Jason pounding up the avenue of oaks, mounted on Damon, his big black stallion. Simon had called the horse ‘a ferocious brute who tries to kill everyone who comes near him’, but Jason sat him as easily as if he were a pony.

He wore no jacket, and through his thin shirt she could see the tension of his muscles, controlling the huge beast without effort.

He thought he could control everything, she thought—his estates, his brother, the whole world. But she wouldn’t let him control her.

A moment later he stopped under her window.

‘Do you ride?’ he called up.

‘I—yes,’ she said.

‘Good. I’ll find you a mount.’

She’d made a bad mistake. Her mother had once done housework for a man who owned a fat, elderly pony. He’d let the child play with the animal, and she’d learned to saddle him and sit there while he ambled slowly about. And she’d thought that was riding.

She looked good in a riding habit that belonged to their recently married sister, but almost at once she knew she’d done something stupid. Her mount was gentle enough, but it was a real horse. It needed to be properly ridden. And she didn’t know how.

What happened next would always fill her with shame.

The horse simply ignored her, going happily on its own way, while she grew more and more miserable and humiliated. Her one real effort to take charge resulted in the beast trotting off to the nearest stream and stopping so suddenly that she was deposited in the water.

It was Jason who hauled her out. ‘Why did you pretend you could ride?’ he demanded, exasperated. ‘Of all the idiots!’

‘I can ride, but not on an animal like that,’ she insisted, pulling off her sodden jacket. Beneath it she wore a thin white sweater, which was also soaking.

‘What do you mean, “an animal like that”?’ he yelled back. ‘It’s a horse, for Pete’s sake. It’s got one leg at each corner and nothing between its ears. It’s a mount for a child, always assuming the child knows what it’s doing. What did you learn on, a rocking horse?’

‘Stop it!’ she cried. ‘Stop trying to bully me.’

‘Bully you, you stupid girl? I’m trying to prevent you making the biggest mistake of your life.’ Suddenly he seemed to lose his temper, taking hard hold of her shoulders. ‘Stop trying to be something that you’re not, d’you hear? Get out of here while you can. Simon isn’t the man for you.’

‘That’s for me to say. Simon loves me and I love him.’

He gave her an exasperated little shake. She tried to pull free but he held her harder than ever. ‘Love,’ he said contemptuously. ‘What do you know?’

They held each other’s eyes, both now equally furious. She could hardly believe her own anger. Normally she was sweet tempered to a fault, but suddenly all the restraints were off and a fierce emotion rose in her, sweeping all before it, startling her. It startled her enemy too. She could see that in his eyes, as though something unexpected had winded him.

‘Hey!’

Simon’s voice surprised them both. He’d ridden up while they were preoccupied. Jason swore under his breath and released her. Simon threw himself down from his horse and put his jacket around her. Jason remounted and galloped off without a backward glance.

That evening Simon carved their initials on the oak tree, kissed her, and said, ‘I could have knocked him down for holding you like that. Did you know you were almost naked from the water?’

She blushed and laughed. ‘You don’t need to be jealous of your brother. He’s the last man I could ever look at. I can’t see how any woman could even like him.’

‘Jason knows how to make himself pleasant when it suits him. But when he wants to make himself unpleasant—look out!’

‘And he wants to make himself unpleasant now,’ she murmured. ‘But it won’t make any difference to us, will it?’

‘We won’t let it,’ he assured her.

How blindly confident she’d been that Simon could cope with every problem! How pitifully naive that confidence seemed now! Jason had managed to part them because he’d sworn to do so, and his will was inflexible.

But how could she ever have imagined that he would do so in a way so cruel, so callous, so unspeakably wicked?

Looking around the luxurious bedroom, Elinor knew she was mad to have returned here where bitter memories mocked her at every turn. She’d refused the job at first, and it had gone to someone else. But two days ago the other nurse had suffered a family crisis. The head of the agency had pleaded with her to fill the gap, and she’d decided perhaps it was time to confront her ghosts.

The first face to greet her hadn’t been a ghost. Mrs Hadwick had worked for the Tenbys all her life, but she’d been away for Elinor’s first visit.

Her decision not to tell Jason who she was had been an impulse. Smith was such a common name that he couldn’t identify her from that alone. Even Elinor wouldn’t mean anything to him. He’d known her as Cindy.

She’d done it for his sake. Telling him the truth would only put pressure on him, and he had enough pressures already.

She too was feeling pressured. She’d vowed to return, and she’d done so, in defiance of Jason’s order to ‘stay right away from this family’.

Now it didn’t feel right. She’d made that vow in grief and passion, but over the years all passion had drained away from her, replaced by the will to make something of herself. She’d worked night and day to qualify as a nurse.

She’d had no social life. She wanted nothing more to do with love. While other girls dated she’d studied, and passed her examinations near the top of her class.

These days she was a poised, elegant professional woman. There was nothing to connect her with the awkward girl who’d last come to Tenby Manor.

Or so she’d thought, until she’d seen her enemy again.

Time had gone back and she’d relived their first meeting, holding Simon’s hand for reassurance. Then she’d remembered that she was Nurse Smith, highly qualified and much in demand. And Jason Tenby was a sightless wreck of a man, who needed her help if he was ever to be anything else.

The knowledge brought her no satisfaction, only a weary conviction that she’d assumed a burden too heavy for her.

Then she pushed the feeling firmly away. She’d learned to be strong for herself. Now she would be strong for her patient. That was all he was. Just a patient.

CHAPTER TWO

WHEN the door had closed behind Nurse Smith, Jason Tenby lay in the darkness, straining to listen. His body ached with tension, his head was thumping and the very silence seemed to sing in his ears.

He wished he could force himself to relax, but he’d never known how. From the moment of his birth he’d been the Tenby heir, carrying the burdens of Tenby expectations. His father had died when he was twenty-two, leaving an inheritance of death duties that had fallen like a lead weight onto his shoulders.

He’d broadened them to bear the load. The family traditions made him personally responsible for every worker on the land and in the factory. It was his job to ensure that there would always be work for them.

Jason had never shirked an obligation in his life.

He’d paid off the debts and made the property more prosperous than ever before, but it had taken its toll on him. He hadn’t consciously renounced pleasure, but he’d deferred it to some indefinite future, and now he hardly remembered it.

‘Don’t let any man—and certainly no woman—see that he knows more than you,’ his father had barked. ‘You’re the top man. Nobody must get the better of you.’

Over the years he’d learned the value of that advice. And he’d added ‘Never let the world know you’re afraid’. There had been a lot of fear. Fear of not being up to the job, fear of people suspecting that he wasn’t up to the job.

But nothing had prepared him for the fear that lived with him now. It stalked him in the daytime darkness. It waited to pounce when he slept.

It filled the void of his life. Fear of the nightmares. Fear of the future, of people he could hear but not see, of medical staff because they knew more than he did.

Nurses came and went, driven off by his bitter rage. But today there had come one who wouldn’t yield. He’d sensed it in her manner, heard it in her quiet voice. She was strong and confident, and she would fight him back.

Soon his factory manager would arrive to make his twice weekly report and receive Jason’s instructions. He tried to clear his mind so that he could appear to be in command. He mustn’t think of what might wait for him: years of being blind and crippled. Because then the fear would rise up and engulf him.

‘Mrs Hadwick—’

‘Call me Hilda, love.’

‘Thank you, Hilda. And I’m Elinor.’ She gave her friendliest smile. ‘I’m sorry to be a nuisance, but could you find me somewhere else to sleep? I need to be near my patient at night.’

‘There’s a room right opposite his,’ the housekeeper said doubtfully. ‘But it’s just a cupboard.’

It turned out to be very small, with barely enough space for a bed, a chair and a wardrobe.

‘I’ll be fine,’ Elinor said. ‘What matters is to be where he needs me.’

Hilda regarded her with approval. ‘None of the others thought of that. They were only too glad to get away from him. He’s not the easiest patient.’

‘No, I gathered that.’

‘When it first happened, I thought he’d go crazy. He’s always been such an active man, and suddenly he couldn’t see or move. It’ll be terrible if—’ She broke off as if she couldn’t bear to speak the thought.

‘You’re very fond of him, aren’t you?’ Elinor said, surprised. It was hard to picture anyone fond of Jason Tenby.

‘Oh, yes,’ Hilda said at once. ‘He’s been very good to my Alf and me. When Alf lost his job Jason found him work on the estate. That’s Jason for you. He looks after his own.’

Elinor didn’t answer this. She had reason to know how Jason Tenby looked after his own.

As they made up the bed together Hilda gossiped about the family.

‘Not many of them left now,’ she said regretfully. ‘Only Jason, his brother Simon, and their sister. She married and went to Australia. Simon lived here until a couple of years ago. He’s in London now.’

Elinor had known that Simon had left because the last nurse who’d held this job had given her a rough briefing. It was a relief to know that she needn’t fear meeting him.

How bitter his face had been at their parting. How terrible were the names he’d called her. It wasn’t his fault. Jason had forced the situation on them. But Simon had believed the worst of her so easily. How could he?

She pulled herself together and asked some bright, meaningless question. Hilda answered it and the moment passed.

‘But with any luck there’ll soon be a family again,’ she chattered on. ‘We’re all looking forward to the day Jason brings his bride home. Just as soon as he’s well, he’ll marry Miss Virginia.’

‘Not Virginia Cavenham?’ Elinor said before she could think.

‘Yes? Do you know her?’

‘No, but I’ve heard the name Cavenham.’ The Cavenhams were a notable local family. Elinor hadn’t met Virginia, but she’d heard her called the pride of the crop. Simon had spoken of her as a future bride for Jason even then. She was ‘suitable’.

‘The families have been friends for years and we always knew Jason would probably marry one of the two girls,’ Hilda said now.

‘Suppose he hadn’t wanted to?’ Elinor asked curiously.

‘Then he could have had Jean Hebden, or one of the Ainsworths,’ said Hilda, naming local wealthy, land owning families.

‘But suppose he wants to look beyond the Cavenhams, the Hebdens or the Ainsworths?’

‘Land marries land,’ Hilda said firmly. ‘Or money. That’s how great old families survive for centuries.’

When Hilda had gone Elinor looked about her, struck by how easily her meagre possessions fitted into the cramped space. There were a few clothes, a change of uniform, something for ‘best’, some sweaters, a couple of pairs of jeans. Her underwear was white and functional without a flower or a piece of lace to be seen.

Her make-up told the same story: enough to wear when necessary. Nothing elaborate. Her books barely filled the shelf: a few detective stories for lighter moments, but mostly medical works. She liked to keep abreast of the latest advances.

Of course she could explain this austerity. She travelled light. She’d never been fond of accumulating possessions. There were always plenty of reasons.

But in her heart she knew it wasn’t much to sum up a life. A withered life. A withered heart. She resisted the thought, but she couldn’t entirely deny it.

The mirror inside the wardrobe door showed her a neat, efficient young woman, her face unadorned, with a hint of tension about the mouth. The beginnings of frown lines between the eyes told of long nights of study, days filled with work, years without a holiday, without feelings, without anything.

Yet her skin still had the peachy bloom of youth. Her features were regular, her mouth wide and shapely, with something that might have been sensuality still lurking in the corners. If her face had been animated it would have been beautiful. If her large blue eyes had glowed with love or laughter she would have been irresistible.

But love and laughter had died long ago.

The memories came in swift, dazzling pictures now, and she was forcing herself, like a rider ramming an unwilling horse at a jump. With every step the horse tried to retreat, knowing that what lay ahead was misery and horror. But the rider drove it on.

The dinner party in her honour. Simon crowing that Jason had given in, silencing her instinctive knowledge that Jason would never give in. Puzzled. Fearful. Wondering what Jason was planning.

On the day of the party, a team of caterers arrived and started preparing the dining room, carrying in baskets of food and wine. In the midst of the bustle the two brothers withdrew to Jason’s study and had a furious row from which each emerged set-faced and grim.

‘It’s nothing, darling,’ Simon said when she asked. ‘Just Jason throwing his weight around. Forget him. Go and make yourself look beautiful for tonight.’

But there was something preoccupied about his manner that worried her. Several times that day she caught him looking at her in a thoughtful way.

The twenty guests all smiled and greeted her with interest but with little half glances at Jason, as if curious as to what he was thinking. She, too, wondered what there was behind his smile. In the midst of festivity she felt her apprehension growing.

After dinner someone sat down at the piano and there was an impromptu dance. She danced with Simon, to applause.

Then Jason stepped forward and held out his arms, inviting her. Only it was more command than invitation.

She was surprised at how skilfully he danced. It would have been a pleasure to partner him if she hadn’t been so much on edge.

‘Smile,’ he said. ‘This is your night of triumph.’

‘I don’t feel triumphant,’ she assured him gravely. ‘Only happy. I really do love Simon. If only you could believe that.’

Unexpectedly he said, ‘I find it all too easy to believe. I only wish I didn’t.’

‘Then if you believe me—’

‘Has it ever occurred to you that Simon isn’t the man you think him?’

Enlightenment dawned, and a smile broke over her face. She felt filled with sudden light.

‘What is it?’ he demanded sharply. ‘Why do you look like that?’

‘Because now I understand what’s really bothering you?’

‘Really!’ he said ironically. ‘Then it’s time we had a talk.’

He steered her towards an open door, and led her into the library.

The pictures flickered as Elinor flinched back from what came next. She didn’t want to remember. Leave it there. Surely there was no need to relive the pain?

But some perverse imp of memory forced her to look again, and watch herself go into the library with Jason. She saw not only their two figures, but her own foolish confidence that at last she’d got the better of this ruthless man. She wanted to reach out and snatch that silly little innocent away from the danger she was heading into so blithely. But nothing could do that now.

In the library they faced each other.

‘So tell me about this wonderful insight that’s come to you,’ he said ironically.

‘I’ve just realised—you know Simon’s dark side, don’t you?’

He was startled. ‘So you do recognise that he has a dark side?’

‘Of course. Everyone has.’ A growing confidence made her add, ‘You certainly have.’

Instead of being offended he gave his wolfish grin, and said, ‘Go on. I can’t wait for the next bit.’

‘All right, I don’t know his dark side. But then, he doesn’t know mine.’

‘Your what?’

‘Oh, I do have one,’ she said, laughing. ‘I’m terribly grumpy in the mornings. I can’t imagine Simon ever being grumpy, but I’m prepared to find that I’m wrong. When you really love somebody, you love everything about them—even their faults, because those faults are part of them.’

And so she went blundering on, reciting the confident words, playing into his hands, watching the derision on his face, not understanding it.

As well as scornful, he was furiously angry. ‘You think you know it all!’

‘I know about love, Jason. I love Simon and he loves me, and nothing will ever part us. We’ll stand by each other through the worst that you can do.’

As she grew more exalted she smiled up into his face. He drew in his breath and his brow darkened.

‘You simpleton!’ he grated. ‘You baby! You stupid, pretty little idiot! You naive, gullible—Heaven give me patience!’

He gripped her shoulders, looking at her intently. Suddenly they heard Simon’s voice outside in the hall. She saw the tension come swiftly into Jason’s face as though he’d made a lightning decision, and the next moment he pulled her hard against him, sliding his arms about her body, lowering his head and crushing her mouth with his own.

Abruptly the pictures flickered out into blackness.

Time and again her memory stopped at this point, and only resumed several moments later, with the sight of Simon’s face, white and distraught.

‘You cheating little bitch,’ he cried. ‘You scheming, deceitful—All this time I thought you loved me, but you had your eyes on a bigger prize, didn’t you? I trusted you!’

She tried to protest, but he cut her short. ‘I loved you. I’d have given my life for you, and the moment my back’s turned you go straight into my brother’s arms. What else have the two of you been up to?’

‘Nothing,’ she screamed. ‘Simon, please—it’s not what you think.’

‘It seemed clear enough to me. Oh, God, Cindy, how could you do this?’

All the guests seemed to be there behind him, listening to his heartbroken accusations, witnessing her shame.

‘Listen to me,’ she begged through her sobs.

‘Listen to you! I never want to listen to or even think of you again. Get out of my sight.’

‘That’s enough!’ Jason intervened. ‘You’ve made your point, Simon. Now leave it. It’s over.’

‘Yes, it’s over,’ he choked. ‘Over, Cindy, over! And I thought you and I were for ever.’

He turned and fled upstairs. She followed him, but found his door locked against her, and her frantic hammering produced no response. At last she slid to the floor, sobbing in despair.

She didn’t know how long she stayed there, but eventually Jason came to tell her that all the guests were gone.

She looked up at him through eyes blurred with tears.

‘You—you did this on purpose,’ she choked.

‘Yes, I did it on purpose. Come on, get up.’

He put his hands under her arms and hauled her firmly to her feet. She went with him because there was nothing else to do. She had nobody but Simon, and now he’d turned against her.

Jason led her to her room, and said curtly, ‘Pack your things. You’re leaving in the morning.’

She clung to the hope that she could see Simon before she had to leave, but in the early hours she heard a car start up beneath her window. She ran and opened it, and was just in time to see Simon drive away.

He’d gone out of her life for ever, disillusioned, believing that she’d betrayed their love.

But the true betrayal had come from his brother, who had forcibly kissed her, knowing that Simon was about to come in and see them. Why, oh, why couldn’t Simon understand that? Why had he believed the worst of her so easily?

Jason insisted on driving her to the railway station. She left behind every gift, every last tiny piece of jewellery that Simon had ever given her.

But she left behind much more than that: youth and dreams, hope, love, and a belief that the world was good. She’d been brutally robbed of them all.

As she stood now, looking at her own tense, sad face in the wardrobe mirror, she understood for the first time how totally these things had been drained from her, and how empty was the woman they had left behind.

She shut the door abruptly and went downstairs.

The kitchen had changed since she was last here. The old one had been a monument to antiquity. The new one paid lip-service to tradition, with oak beams on the ceiling and copper pans on the wall. But the gadgets were modern, as Hilda demonstrated with pride.

‘I had to talk him into it,’ she said, pointing at the ceiling to indicate Jason. ‘He likes the old ways, and the old values. But I told him, this kitchen may have been good enough to cook for Queen Victoria, but it ain’t good enough for me.’

‘Did Queen Victoria ever visit Tenby Manor?’ Elinor asked.

‘So they say. Wouldn’t surprise me. Anyway, I put up with it as long as I could, then I said, Either that ancient kitchen goes, or I do.’

‘And what did Mr Tenby say to that?’

‘He said, “Hilda, Tenby Manor would go to pieces without you.” And there was a man in here, taking measurements, the very next day.’

Elinor was surprised. Even discounting the story’s more colourful details, the bottom line was that Jason Tenby had listened to Hilda. But of course, by modernising, he’d improved the value of the house.

The outer door, which had been slightly ajar, was pushed open and a muddy black spaniel scampered into the room.

‘Bob, you rascal,’ Hilda called, ‘where have you been hiding?’ She offered a titbit, which the spaniel pounced on. ‘He’s Jason’s. Nobody’s got much time for him now, poor little thing, so he spends his life wandering around the grounds.’

‘Mr Tenby’s? He didn’t—’ Elinor checked herself on the verge of saying that Jason hadn’t had a dog when she was last here, and substituted, ‘He didn’t seem the kind of man to keep a pet.’

‘He’s more than just a pet. He wins prizes at all the dog shows. Pedigree as long as your arm. Not that he looks it now, because he’s covered in mud. But he’s actually Lord Robertson Winstanley Mooreswell of Hatley Place,’ Hilda pronounced triumphantly, adding as an afterthought, ‘The eighth.’

I can believe that, Elinor thought. Even this man’s dog has a pedigree.

Bob bounded towards her.

‘Stay away from me!’ she said sharply. Then she coloured and added, ‘His paws—’

‘Yes, you don’t want them on your nice clean uniform,’ Hilda said.

Elinor agreed, but not without a touch of shame. For a moment her hostility to all things Tenby had extended to the innocent animal who’d been welcomed because he had the pedigree she herself had lacked.

To cover the moment she began to ask about the house. ‘It’s a big place to manage on your own.’

‘I’m not exactly on my own. I clean Jason’s room because he doesn’t like strangers in there, but, for the rest, a couple of cleaning women come in from the village. My Alf does odd jobs and looks after the kitchen garden.’

She concentrated on the supper she was preparing, and told Elinor that it would be ready in an hour.

‘Meat and two veg, with plenty of gravy,’ she announced with pride. ‘I do it for him every day. And a good solid pudding for afters. If only he did more than pick at it! Never mind. I’ll build him up.’

Elinor forbore to comment that Hilda wouldn’t build Jason up by cooking meals that obviously didn’t tempt him. The time wasn’t right.

From outside she could hear someone coming down the stairs, leaving the house and driving away.

‘That’ll be the factory manager,’ Hilda said. ‘He’s been getting his orders.’

‘You mean he’s been up with Mr Tenby?’ Elinor asked, startled.

‘He comes here twice a week. Dr Harper—that’s Jason’s GP—tried to stop him, but Jason got into such a fury he had to back down.’

‘I think I’d better have a word with Mr Tenby.’

She found Jason lying still and silent. It was hard to tell if he was awake or not.

‘What are you staring at me for?’ he demanded irritably.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think I was.’

‘I knew you were. Don’t you realise that’s one of the worst things? People who stare at you, thinking you won’t know. People who think being blind is the same as being stupid.’

‘Mr Tenby, I don’t want you to think of yourself as blind—’

‘Sure! Fine!’ he snapped. ‘I’m not blind, it’s just that I can’t see anything.’

‘For the moment. It may not be permanent, and it’s better if you don’t get into a “blind” state of mind.’

He gave a snort. ‘You nurses should get your act together. The last one told me exactly the opposite; never stopped twittering on about adjusting to reality.’

‘Adjusting to reality before you’re certain that it is reality is just giving in,’ Elinor said calmly.

There was a silence.

‘So you can talk sense about something,’ Jason grunted.

‘You’d be amazed at the things I can talk sense about,’ Elinor told him crisply.

‘Good. You can stay here for the moment. But there’s one thing.’

‘Yes?’

Without warning he reached up and gripped her arms in both hands.

‘Mr Tenby—’

‘Keep still,’ he rasped.

One hand still held her while the other slid its way up her arm to the throat of her uniform. Then he released her.

‘Get out of that damned uniform and wear something civilised,’ he ordered. ‘You make me ill just standing there in it.’

‘Very well, sir.’

“‘Very well, sir,”’ he echoed. ‘Such a cool, calm, collected voice. Such a neutral voice. God, I wish I could see your face this minute.’

‘It’s a neutral face too,’ she assured him. ‘Just treat me as a piece of machinery.’

‘There’s machinery in my factory. It smells of axle grease, not wild flowers, as you do.’

Elinor was startled. She wore no perfume and used unscented soap. What had he detected that was hidden from the rest of the world?

‘I came up because I’m not happy about you having too many people in here just now,’ she said quickly. ‘You still need a lot of rest and I think we should—’

‘No, I think you should listen while I make a few things plain,’ he interrupted her. ‘I’ve been ill as long as I can afford to be. There’s work to be done and nobody I can trust to do it. So if I want to talk to my manager or my bailiff I’ll do so. I hope that’s clearly understood.’

‘Perfectly. If you think you’re sufficiently on top of your work to give orders about it, I have nothing to say.’

‘Don’t try to get clever with me!’ he snapped. ‘You’re my nurse, not my keeper. I will not be molly coddled.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it.’

‘So why does Hilda tell me you’ve moved in across the corridor? If that’s not molly coddling me, what is?’

‘That’s a matter for my professional judgement. While you’re still in a bad condition I prefer to be near you at night.’

‘The hell with that! You move right out of that room and back into the other one. Do you hear?’

‘I hear. But I’m staying put.’

‘Then I’ll tell Hilda to move your stuff.’

‘You’ll do no such thing. Hilda has enough to do without becoming pig-in-the-middle between us. You want a fight? Fine! We’ll fight. But leave Hilda out of it.’

He ground his teeth. ‘I think fate must have it in for me! It’s not enough that I’m laid out here, useless to myself and everyone else. I have to be cursed with a harpy who marches in here giving orders like some prison commandant. I’m still the master here, in case you didn’t realise it.’

‘I should think the whole world realises it if you shout like that,’ Elinor observed mildly.

‘I shout because it’s the only way I can get myself listened to. You’ll do what I say, when I say, and that’s final. Now clear out of here before I start getting angry.’

CHAPTER THREE

BEFORE Elinor could reply there was a clattering in the corridor outside then a knock on the door.

‘Got your supper,’ Hilda called.

As she wheeled the trolley in Jason turned his head in her direction and Elinor noticed that he made the effort of a smile.

‘What good care of me you take, Hilda! Why should I need any other nurse?’

Hilda’s plain face flushed with pleasure, but she said, ‘You stop your nonsense now, and do what the nurse tells you.’

‘All right, all right!’

‘Shall I set it up for you?’ Hilda began to make her way to an invalid table by the window. It had a free end, designed to swing over the bed.

‘No, Nurse Smith will do it,’ Jason told her. ‘Thank you, Hilda.’

The light faded from his face as the door closed behind her. The pretence of cheerfulness had drained him.

‘The table’s over there somewhere,’ he said.

‘Shall I help you sit up?’

‘No—yes, dammit!’

She slipped an arm under his shoulders, and he gripped her other arm. It was an effort not to flinch, remembering the last time his hands had grasped her, but she stayed calm, although her heart was beating fast. Gently she eased him into a sitting position and pulled more pillows up behind him. Then she laid out the meal on the trolley and swung it over the bed.

‘What is it?’ he demanded, sensing her hesitation.

‘Hilda’s left you a jug of gravy, Mr Tenby, but do you really want it?’ She chose her words carefully. She’d nursed the blind before, and knew how they hated gravy because it ended up everywhere.

Jason grew still and there was a sudden arrested look on his face as though he’d heard, unexpectedly, the one hint of understanding he’d been listening for.

‘No, I don’t,’ he admitted at last. ‘Hilda’s a dear, but she doesn’t think.’

‘Is there anything else I can do for you?’

‘If you mean do I need my food cut up, no.’

‘Then I’ll leave you.’

‘Yes, go and start moving out of that room.’

She left without answering. In her own room she changed out of her uniform but made no attempt to move her things.

Downstairs, Hilda had a meal ready for her. She’d laid a table in the dining room, evidently feeling that Elinor’s dignity demanded this. But after one meal in solitary state Elinor decided to eat with Hilda in the kitchen. She carried her plates through, and began to help with the washing-up.

‘By the way, I looked in to see how he was managing,’ Hilda said, ‘and he told me to move your stuff.’

‘No,’ Elinor said urgently.

‘Don’t you worry. I listened with my deaf ear.’

‘Which ear is that?’

‘It varies,’ Hilda said mysteriously. ‘You do it your way.’

Elinor laughed. She already liked Hilda very much.

When she returned to Jason his first words were, ‘Have you got rid of that uniform?’

‘Yes, I’m in ordinary clothes now,’ she assured him.

‘Let me feel.’ He held out his hand commandingly.

‘Why don’t you just take my word for it, Mr Tenby?’

‘Because I can’t take anyone’s word for anything,’ he shouted.

After a jagged silence he added, ‘I’m sorry. When you’re in the dark—there’s only mistrust—I don’t know how to explain—’

‘You don’t need to,’ she said at once. ‘It was my fault. I should have been more understanding. Here—’ She took his hand and guided it to her arm so that he could feel the soft texture of her sweater. He touched her only briefly before withdrawing his hand.

‘Thank you,’ he said distantly. ‘There was no need for that. Of course I believe you.’

He’d eaten little. Some of the food had fallen onto the sheet. She tidied it up quietly, removed the tray and wheeled the table away from the bed.

‘I’m going away to study my predecessor’s notes,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow we’ll discuss your treatment.’

She was afraid that he might mention her room again, but he made no reply and she left quickly.

It was good to be alone. So far the day had shaken her more than she wanted to admit. She went downstairs and out for some fresh air.

There was a stiff breeze that set the daffodils dancing. Elinor pulled her coat about her and headed into the wind. She would confront the last of her ghosts, and drive them away, she reasoned.

But the ghosts were wicked and mischievous, lying in wait around every corner. There was Simon, a smiling boy, his arms open to her. And there, running to him, was the most painful ghost of all—her own younger self, brimming over with happiness.

Suddenly she pulled up short and pressed her hand over her mouth to stop the anguish welling out. She leaned against an oak tree, clutching it for support while memory shook her. It might all have been so different.

After a while she drew a long breath, lifted her chin and walked on.

It had been high summer when she’d come here last, and the season had reflected the joyous flowering of love in her heart. Now it was late March, the moment when winter turned into spring. The trees were still bare, although a close look would have shown the buds ready to burst into fresh life, but she didn’t see them. For her, spring had never come again.

The big house stood on a hill, looking out over the grounds and beyond them the valley, as though the Tenbys must keep everything beneath their watchful eyes. A beautiful building of honey coloured stone, with elegant proportions, it had been built three hundred years ago by a Tenby with money to spare. Down in the valley was the town of Hampton Tenby, dominated by Tenby & Son, an engineering factory that was the largest employer for miles.

The Tenby family motto was Beware the Lion’s Roar, and it had perfectly summed up their power. Now it seemed even more fitting for Jason—a lion whose wounds had made him dangerous.

The wind was getting up again and the light was fading fast. The feeble sunset turned the windows to gold. Blind eyes, staring out over the countryside. Elinor shivered.

Six years of not allowing herself to feel anything had left her unprepared for the conflicting emotions that tore at her now.

Jason Tenby had destroyed her. If she’d wanted revenge she could have had it today in the sight of his misery. But she wasn’t vengeful, merely cold and tired, and wishing with all her heart that she’d never come back to this place.

By the time she’d finished making him comfortable for the night Jason looked exhausted. His face was drawn, and there was a tense look about his mouth that made her ask, ‘Are you in pain?’

‘Not physically. It’s just the thought of the night. For God’s sake give me something to make me sleep.’

‘Your last nurse seems to have let you rely on sleeping pills rather a lot.’

‘Maybe she understood more than you do what it’s like to be trapped.’

‘Trapped?’

‘In the darkness—and silence. Sometimes I listen to the radio, but after a while it’s just another way of being trapped.’

‘I’ll give you something tonight,’ Elinor said, ‘and we’ll talk about it tomorrow.’

She gave him his usual pill and tried to settle him more comfortably, but he fended her off.

‘Goodnight,’ he said curtly.

‘Goodnight, Mr Tenby.’

It was too soon for her to go to bed, so she went down to the kitchen and spent an hour chatting with Hilda over a pot of tea. When she finally went upstairs she paused outside Jason’s room and listened, shocked by the sounds coming from inside. He was groaning and muttering like a tormented soul. She stood, undecided, for a long time before quietly entering.

He’d told her to leave the curtains pulled back, and the moonlight poured in onto the bed, revealing how he lay still for a moment, then resumed the feverish tossing.

Elinor crossed quietly to the bed, wondering if she ought to awaken him from whatever agonies overwhelmed him in the night.

But she guessed that this was why he’d tried to banish her from the room opposite. He didn’t want her near enough to hear his nightmares, and it would revolt his pride to know that she’d been in here.

‘Why—why—?’ The words came from Jason in a hoarse whisper.

‘Mr Tenby—’ She came closer, wondering if he’d awoken.

Suddenly he gave a violent lurch and one flailing arm caught her on the side of the head. But he went on tossing, and didn’t seem to know what he’d done, or that she was there. So it seemed as though he was still asleep.

She caught his arm and held it gently. ‘It’s all right,’ she said, reciting the words she’d used before in similar situations. ‘Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.’

‘Where?’ he cried hoarsely.

‘Right here, beside you. Feel me.’ She caught his other hand, guided it to her, then let him hold her arms. He was muttering again.

‘What is it?’ she asked, putting her face close to his and whispering, trying to get through to his tormented brain without waking him.

‘You’re not real,’ he groaned.

‘Yes, I’m real, and I’m here to help you.’

‘You’re never real—always a dream in the end—’

‘Not this time,’ she said, wondering who he was talking about.

‘Tried to make it right—but I could never find you—’

‘There’s plenty of time to make it right,’ she assured him.

‘Too late—you vanished—’

‘You can tell me one day soon,’ Elinor told him gently.

He was lying still now, although his breathing was tortured and sweat stood out on his brow. She mopped it with a handkerchief that lay beside the bed, and the gesture seemed to calm him, although he still held onto her as if his life depended on it.

‘Don’t go,’ he murmured.

‘No, I won’t go, not while you need me.’

He reached out for her, finding his way up her arms to her neck, her face, stroking the hair that tumbled about his hands. The feel of it seemed to take him aback for he paused, wreathing his fingers in the soft locks, frowning.

Elinor took a sharp breath and drew away. Nursing him was one thing, but this kind of intimacy with her enemy wasn’t in the bargain. Slowly, trembling, she took hold of his hand, meaning to free her hair. But his hand was so thin, so lacking in strength, that she couldn’t bring herself to make a sudden movement.

He released her hair, but his fingers moved on, drifting across her face. She grew very tense as he reached the wide curve of her lips. There he stopped and lingered, as if caught in some spell. She held still, aghast at the sensations that his fingertips were sending through her.

They were warm, sweet feelings, delicious and forbidden. Her heart beat madly and she couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly a terrible fear possessed her. She didn’t know why she was afraid of this man who was virtually helpless, but the fear came out of nowhere, shaking her like a rag doll. It was connected with something she couldn’t remember—wouldn’t remember—and it left her shivering with shock. She must get out of here, now, this minute, but his tortured face seemed to hold her.

‘Why did you go?’ he whispered.

Scarcely knowing what she said, she replied, ‘I had to go. You know why.’

What had made her say that? The words had seemed to come of their own accord, but she’d known they were the right ones.

He sighed. ‘Yes, I know why. But if I could only—I wanted to—I tried—but it was too late. Don’t you see—it was too late?’

Without warning his clasp tightened, drawing her closer. Before she could stop him he’d pulled her right down, so that her lips were on his. She stiffened against him, while her mind rebelled with horror.

And with anger, too. Even now, while he was sick and sleeping, Jason Tenby simply took what he wanted, so deep rooted was his instinct to command, to possess.

‘Let me go,’ she insisted fiercely, struggling to free herself.

‘No—’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘You mustn’t go again. You might vanish back into the dark, and I couldn’t bear that. Stay with me—don’t condemn me to despair.’

She didn’t know how to answer. His words were mad, senseless. Yet they found a mysterious echo in her heart, and that was the most senseless thing of all. He wasn’t demanding now, but begging, and she couldn’t sustain her anger in the face of that anguished plea.

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