Sweet Betrayal

‘Oh, but Candy is the teacher there,’ her mother said quickly, ‘and the children so love her.’

‘You’re the teacher?’ He turned to face her now and as she met the full force of his cold blue stare her suspicions were confirmed. Yes, he had known. It was written in every line of his proud, arrogant face, and the small, menacing twist to his mouth would have convinced her if nothing else had. ‘Dear, dear.’ He raked back his hair, so dark a brown as to be almost black now the bleached ends had gone. ‘Well, we’ll have to confer about this, won’t we?’

She glared back at him, too angry to consider what she said. ‘I’m sure you’ll do exactly what you want to regardless of anyone else’s feelings, Mr Strythe.’ His eyebrows rose mockingly as she gave him his full title. ‘You did ten years ago, and a leopard doesn’t change its spots.’

Her last words had wiped away the small smile that had played round his mouth in satirical contempt as he had listened to her passionate outburst and now, as her face turned white with the realisation of what she had said in front of everyone, he slowly moved his gaze from hers after one searing glance of utter scorn.

‘This is excellent, Mrs Clarke. My compliments to the chef.’ The smooth, controlled voice was like a slap in the face and she sank back in her seat feeling quite mortified, like a small child who had unwittingly made a serious social blunder.

She kept her eyes on her plate for the next few minutes, looking neither to left nor right while her hot anger cooled and she gained control, and when she heard Cameron deep in conversation with his host, a small, meek man normally dwarfed by his shrew of a wife, she raised them slowly and looked his way.

The years had added to his appeal, she admitted grudgingly—if you liked cold, unfeeling robots, that was! He had always been tall and lean, but now his shoulders were powerfully developed with the muscled strength of a prime athlete. His hair had been cut short, very short, which accentuated the chiselled, hard features and steel-blue eyes with their surprisingly thick lashes. Not exactly good-looking in the usual mode, she reflected musingly, but she could imagine the ladies just falling into those strong arms, wanting to change the indifference in those sharp eyes into something else.

There was something about him—a detachment, an aloofness that would draw some women like a powerful amulet. He stood out from the crowd. He always had.

She flushed scarlet suddenly as she became aware of his dark, raised eyebrows, his eyes tight on her face. He had caught her staring and she was furious with herself. Whatever would he think?

‘I would like to discuss the school’s finances further, Candice.’ She noticed he gave her her full name, and he must have remembered how much she hated it! ‘Could you call at the house after work tomorrow?’

‘I suppose so,’ she said bitterly, her expression portraying that she thought it was a fruitless exercise. ‘It takes me some time to clear up, so I’ll be there about five. OK?’

‘Fine,’ he returned easily. ‘I’ll have some tea waiting.’

‘Please don’t bother.’ This polite conversation was ridiculous after what had gone before, she thought irritably. Everyone could feel the undercurrents swirling like a heavy black flood.

‘It’s no bother.’ His eyes had narrowed and she sensed again that brooding ruthlessness that seemed at the very essence of him now. ‘Mrs Baines is an excellent housekeeper, as I’m sure you know.’ She couldn’t bring herself to smile and merely nodded abruptly, her eyes cold. ‘I’m sure Candice will bring you up to date with what we decide,’ he said now to her father.

‘She’s her own boss, Cam,’ her father said quietly. ‘Has been for years.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’ There was a cutting note in Cameron’s voice that everyone seemed to miss apart from her, Candy thought balefully. He thought he was so powerful, so omnipotent. Well, she would show him! If he expected her to grovel to keep the school open he had another think coming. Nothing, nothing on this earth would persuade her to do that. If she had to get another job, so be it. Her qualifications were good enough to get her in anywhere.

The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful, although the discord between Candy and Cameron fairly reverberated around the room and everyone was glad when it was time to leave.

As the others milled into the hall, selecting their coats from the fashionable antique hallstand, Cameron caught Candy’s arm, forcing her to stand still. ‘At five, then. I’m looking forward to it.’ The arrogantly threatening note irritated her and she raised her huge brown eyes to his lowered face, her expression sardonic.

‘Of such is life’s little pleasures made.’ The scorn in her voice was unmistakable.

‘Exactly.’ Now his voice was chilling. ‘I’ve waited a long time to see you all again.’

‘We didn’t go anywhere,’ she bit back furiously, and he allowed himself a small, cold smile.

‘So you didn’t. My, you’ve changed. Quite unrecognisable.’ It wasn’t meant as a compliment and she didn’t pretend to treat it as such.

‘You, unfortunately, are just the same.’ She was annoyed to find her senses were registering the fact that he smelt delicious and a strange little quiver was causing her stomach muscles to clench in protest. He was so very...male. She couldn’t think of anyone else who wore their masculinity so aggressively.

‘I seem to remember we got on all right in the old days,’ he said mockingly, and she felt an almost overwhelming impulse to smack that imperious face hard!

‘I was a child then,’ she answered shortly, ‘and children are very trusting. Then they grow up.’

‘I gather that little dig is meant for me?’ The nerve of the man! After all that had happened, to stand there looking so irritatingly pleased with himself!

‘Candy! Are you coming?’ David’s voice sounded faintly possessive, and she caught the contemplative look in Cameron’s eyes as David walked in with her coat, helping her into it with an unnecessary air of ownership.

As they made their goodbyes she was vitally aware of the tall dark figure looking on just behind his hosts, and once in the car she maintained a cool silence until David pulled up outside their house. ‘Go on in, you two; I just want a word with David.’ There was something in her tone that caught her mother’s attention.

‘It’s been a long day, dear; why don’t you——?’

‘Mum, please. I won’t be a minute.’ Her tone was polite but uncompromising and her mother bowed to the inevitable. Candy guessed her mother had sensed what she was about to say and wanted to talk her out of it. She had been hoping for some time that she and David would become more than friends, but had known better than to come straight out with her matchmaking.

Once they were alone she turned to David with eyes that were uncharacteristically hard. ‘What have you got to say for yourself?’

‘What about?’ He couldn’t hold her gaze. His eyes dropped to the dashboard and he fiddled with the radio, settling on a loud pop programme that grated round the car.

‘You knew he would be there tonight, didn’t you? Was he there when you left to fetch us?’

‘No, of course not.’ She knew he was lying; it was in every weak line of his face.

‘Well, as far as I’m concerned you’ve let me down badly. I don’t trust you.’ She spoke in a quiet, reasonable tone, and for a moment the impact of her words didn’t strike home, and then his face turned a dull red.

‘Now look here, Candy——’

‘No, you look here.’ She still was speaking quietly, but now there was a throbbing anger in her voice that made him shift uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I happen to think that friendship is an important thing and I expect my friends to support me as I do them. You knew that man would be there tonight and you also knew all the history. I don’t happen to consider myself or my family entertainment for one of your mother’s sick schemes. What she did tonight was malicious and spiteful and you backed her all the way.’

‘This is ridiculous...’ His voice faded as she opened the car door jerkily.

‘Goodbye, David.’ She banged the car door with such ferocity that it bounced open again, but she entered the house without a backward glance.

What an evening! As she lay in bed, gazing up in the darkness to the pale glow of the ceiling, she could have almost laughed if it weren’t all so tragic. She had lost her job and David in one fell swoop, although the latter she was well rid of, and it looked as though her little band of children, more like family than anything eise, were going to be turned out of their school and forced to make the journey to Chitten. Her heart gave a little wrench as she pictured them one by one in her mind. Little Ann Cartwright was doing so well, in spite of her severe speech impediment, but she would just shrivel up in the anonymity of a big school, and Kevin... Now she couldn’t stop the hot tears from seeping out of her eyes. He had lost his father recently in a farming accident and was still at the stage where he was clinging to her all day long. He would never cope with a change of schools.

How she hated Cameron Strythe! She sat up in bed suddenly and clenched her fists in helpless frustration. The man was a monster, a cold, unfeeling monster. Well, he couldn’t just come back and wreck all their lives for the second time. She bit on her lip until she tasted blood. She would stop him. She didn’t know how, but she would stop him, if it was the last thing she ever did. She wouldn’t rest until he was crushed and broken...as Michelle had been on that night so long ago when he had left the house with his head held high and she had raced into the sitting-room to hear her sister moaning like an animal, crouched on her knees on the carpet.

She would wait until either fate or opportunity put a weapon in her hands and then she would use it, without pity and with no regard for his feelings.

He would find that the younger Baker sister wasn’t such a push-over as her big sister. She would play him at his own game—and win!

CHAPTER TWO

IN THE cold light of day Candy woke up to the knowledge that Cameron Strythe was holding all the aces and she hated Monday mornings! The school was always freezing owing to being unoccupied all weekend, and the huge, unsightly radiators that were so inefficient always took all day to get the place warm.

After fixing a light breakfast of toast and coffee she sat curled up on the sitting-room window-seat watching the rain pour down outside. ‘Come down to earth, girl,’ she muttered to herself as she sipped the hot liquid slowly. ‘You haven’t got an earthly against him.’ It would be the easiest thing in the world to close down the school; the council had been angling for it for years. It had only been Colonel Strythe’s influence on the various committees he attended, plus the big, fat allowance he made the school each year, that had kept it open this far, and obviously all that had come to an end.

‘Oh, Jasper...’ She allowed herself the brief indulgence of wallowing in self-pity for a few moments, her head buried in the warm, thick fur of the golden retriever, then squared her shoulders determinedly. Well, she might not be able to fight him with regard to the school, but she wouldn’t leave a stone unturned to make his victory as empty as possible.

‘Good morning, Miss Baker.’ For the second time since his return Cameron forced her to give an exclamation of surprise as she swung round from the blackboard mid-morning to see him standing just inside the classroom door. ‘I hope I’m not intruding?’ His eyes dared her to speak her mind with the children watching and expressed malicious satisfaction when she forced herself to speak pleasantly.

‘Not at all, Mr Strythe. What can I do for you?’

‘I just thought I would pop in and see you at work,’ he answered coolly. ‘I trust you have no objection.’

‘What a pity.’ Her eyes darted black fire, but her mouth was smiling for the little onlookers surveying them so interestedly. ‘It’s time for the children’s playtime.’ As she provided each child with a carton of milk and an apple, another of Colonel Strythe’s blessings, she was aware of Cameron taking note of the crumbling plaster and creaking floorboards, but ignored him pointedly. ‘It’s stopped raining, children. All out into the playground. Mrs Harris has just arrived.’

When the last child had left the room and she had checked that they were all safely in the small playground with Karen Harris, one of the mother-helpers, she turned to Cameron with a frankly hostile expression on her face. ‘Well?’

‘You know, you really do have the most charming way with you,’ he drawled slowly as he walked over to the empty picnic basket and flicked the lid with one finger. ‘And who provides this little service each day? And don’t tell me the council, because they gave free milk up years ago.’

‘It was never given up at this school,’ Candy answered coldly. ‘Your father always saw to it that the required number of cartons of milk and apples were delivered each morning.’

‘And who twisted his arm for that little act of generosity?’ His voice was purposely insulting.

‘I have no idea,’ she returned acidly, ‘considering I was merely a child myself at the time. Does it matter? Your father liked children, unlike some men.’ She didn’t even try to hide the meaning behind her barbed words.

‘Meaning I don’t?’ There was an element of bewilderment in his face.

‘Jamie is nearly ten years old now.’ She had clearly lost him along the way; she could see it in the narrowing puzzlement of those piercing blue eyes. ‘Jamie, Michelle’s child.’ His face hardened at the explanation and his mouth straightened into a thin, cruel line.

‘So?’ He was looking down at her in spite of her considerable height. He must be at least six feet four, she thought irrelevantly, and then returned to the attack, annoyed that her mind could wander at a moment like this.

‘So?’ She could feel the colour of her cheeks was matching the red of her hair but she didn’t care. This man was incredible, absolutely incredible! ‘Aren’t you even interested in seeing him?’

‘Any particular reason why I should be?’ he said coldly, his face thundery.

She was saved the necessity of a reply by a timid knocking at the door that led into the playground. ‘Please, miss...’ Little Julie Roberts was standing on the threshold with one arm supportively round Kevin’s thin, trembling shoulders. ‘He wants you.’

‘What’s wrong, Kevin?’ She went down on her heels in front of the small, woebegone figure, who lifted a grubby, tear-stained face up to her with a loud sniff.

‘I want me mam.’

‘You know she’s coming for you later, after work, and Grandma is picking you up for lunch, isn’t she?’ He nodded dismally, a wealth of sadness in his large blue eyes. She rose up with him in her arms and carried him over to her chair, ignoring Cameron as though he didn’t exist.

‘It’s your birthday soon, isn’t it?’ She had found in the last few weeks since his father had died that distraction was the best policy, combined with a close cuddle. He nodded again, looking up at her quickly.

‘How old will you be?’

‘You know, miss.’ He wriggled delightedly at her asking.

‘Oh, yes.’ She pretended to consider a moment. ‘Twenty-one, isn’t it?’

‘Six.’

‘Six?’ She clapped a hand over her mouth in mock horror. ‘But you’re enormous! You aren’t kidding me, are you?’ He shook his head, but she noticed that the tears had dried up and a small smile was playing round the milk-stained mouth.

‘I bet you’ll get lots of presents.’ She knew for a fact that half the village had already bought the small lad a gift, stunned and horrified as they all were at the tragic accident.

‘I can’t have a party.’ He turned his great eyes up to her again. ‘Me mam hasn’t got enough pennies this year.’ He was clearly going to follow the train of thought that would lead him to why and his father’s death, so she cut in quickly, her voice bright.

‘Oh, we’re having a party here for you,’ she improvised rapidly. ‘A big cake and streamers and everything.’

‘And balloons?’ His face had suddenly become alight and she smiled as she nodded vigorously.

‘Of course, lots of balloons. Do you want to go and tell the other children now and then you can all start looking forward to it.’

‘Me tell them?’ This was clearly the icing on the cake and he slid off her lap and marched to the door, his thin shoulders squared with importance.

‘What was all that about?’ She had almost forgotten Cameron was there, but now he moved round to her side from where he had been standing leaning quietly against the wall. ‘Do you have parties for all the children?’

She felt it was another criticism on needless expenditure and glared at him angrily, her face burning. ‘Of course not, but Kevin has lost his father recently and there’s only him and his mother. The grandparents help, but she’s finding it hard and the pair of them aren’t over the first shock yet.’

‘Is that Mike Wilson’s son?’ His voice was harsh. She nodded slowly.

‘I read the report on that yesterday. It happened on my father’s property, didn’t it? The man pulled down a load of stacked logs on himself when he was drunk.’

‘He’d been drinking the night before, yes,’ Candy answered tightly, ‘but I understand the accident was just one of those things.’

‘Hardly.’ Cameron’s voice was cold. ‘The insurance company don’t want to know. There was no negligence on my father’s part, just sheer stupidity on Wilson’s side. From the amount of alcohol still in his system I’m amazed he could have stood up. I’m afraid the family won’t get a penny in damages.’

‘They already know that,’ she answered shortly, astounded by his lack of compassion. ‘And don’t worry, they have no intention of trying to get you to pay anything.’ She almost spat the words at him. He was worse than ever she had imagined. She would never have believed a human being could be so devoid of even the most elementary tenderness. There had been no sympathy in his voice, just cold, harsh censure and biting condemnation.

‘I’m aware of that,’ he answered abruptly, his dark head tilted to one side as he considered her furious face. ‘You’re determined to cast me in the role of wicked black baron, aren’t you? Do you always make such snap judgements? I wouldn’t have thought in your line of profession that was very wise.’ There it was again, that subtle criticism of her capabilities!

‘It’s no snap judgement where you are concerned,’ she answered bitingly. ‘I’ve had ten years to make up my mind about you.’

‘And hating me for every one of them?’ he asked mockingly.

‘Dead right.’ She turned and looked him full in the face. ‘To me you are the lowest thing that ever walked this earth, Cameron Strythe; a fly-blown maggot is more appealing than you.’

‘A doubtful comparison, but I think I get the message.’ The man was so infuriatingly in control, she thought wildly, as he moved lazily towards the door from which he had entered. He turned on the threshold and held her with his icy blue gaze. ‘Do I take it I am the heartless villain and your sister is the pure white innocent in this vivid imagination of yours?’

‘She was pregnant with your child and you walked out on her,’ Candy answered baldly. ‘Those are the facts; you can’t change them.’

‘And if I denied that?’

‘I wouldn’t believe you.’

‘I thought so.’ The light from the window was turning her hair into glowing fire as she stood looking at him, her eyes great black pools of pain in her chalkwhite face. He shook his head slowly, his face closed against her.

‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave...’

‘What?’ Her voice was sharp and he shook his head again, his face clearing.

‘Five tonight at the house, Candy.’

‘You still want me to come?’ She stared at him in surprise. She had thought after this little exchange there would be nothing left to say. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he had come back and pinned a notice on the door stating the school was closed until further notice!

He nodded abruptly as he left, leaving her staring miserably at the empty doorway. What a mess! What a hopeless, impossible mess. She wondered how long it would be before he could close them down. There would be official channels to go through and such like, but with Colonel Strythe gone their only support had vanished, and the council would be quick to point that out. Six months, nine months, certainly no more. The council had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years.

The first faint fingers of dusk were touching the blue-grey sky as she made her way towards the farm later that day. Normally she would have enjoyed the walk to the Strythe house, taking pleasure in the small hump-backed bridge below which the crystal-clear waters of the gurgling stream were forded by steppingstones, and the huge, sweeping drive lined with evergreen yews, oaks and beech trees, but today the beauty around her was wasted. Her whole being was concentrated on the confrontation ahead and she was dreading it. She wished Charles Strythe hadn’t died; she wished Cameron hadn’t come back; she wished so many things...

‘Hello, Miss Candy.’ Mrs Baines ushered her into the wide wood-panelled hall with a beaming smile. ‘It’s lovely to see you again, makes it seem more like old times.’ The round red-cheeked face took on a sober expression that didn’t sit well on the plump little woman. Mrs Baines had been with Colonel Strythe as long as she could remember, Candy mused; she must be missing him dreadfully. ‘Come to see Mr Cameron, I understand? You go into the drawing-room and I’ll tell him you’re here.’

Candy made her way to the drawing-room, looking round this room she had always loved as she entered. The Strythe house was built more in the style of a country mansion than of the average farmhouse seen scattered through the county. The rooms were large and high, with beautifully sculptured ceilings and vast window-seats, thick, deep carpets and long velvet curtains.

The grounds around the house were lovingly cared for and the stables situated some distance away were always in pristine condition, housing some fine mounts. According to her father, the Strythe family had diversified into many other areas besides farming, creating enormous wealth, although the family home with its acres of prime Devonshire cattle and sheep had always been Colonel Strythe’s first love.

She glanced at his portrait now as she stood before the roaring log fire waiting for Cameron’s arrival, noting the light blue eyes, the firm mouth and that small dimple in his chin that Cameron had inherited too. She missed him. She really did. The beautiful room, with its rich deep red curtains and upholstery and fine antique furniture, seemed empty without his benign presence.

‘I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.’ She hadn’t noticed Cameron come in, lost as she was in the past, and started violently for the third time since his homecoming. ‘Do you suffer with your nerves?’ From anyone else the question, asked as it was in quiet, concerned tones, might have been genuine, but as she looked into his eyes she saw dark devilment gleaming out at her.

‘No, I do not,’ she returned sharply, flushing hotly.

‘Do I make you nervous, then?’ He had moved closer to her as he spoke and for the second time she became aware of that tantalising smell that was a part of him. It stirred something deep inside her that she would prefer not to be stirred.

‘No.’ As she spoke the denial she realised it was a lie. He did make her nervous, horribly nervous, and that in turn made her angry.

‘Good,’ he said lazily. He had changed since that morning and, looking at him in casual trousers and a heavy Aran sweater, she became aware that he really was quite devastatingly attractive. She caught her wandering thoughts savagely. She hadn’t really just thought that... had she?

‘You wanted to see me?’ She kept her voice cool and businesslike and walked with studied calm from the comforting warmth of the fire to the big easychair near by, perching on the end of it and crossing her hands on her lap.