Point Of No Return

‘Well, Megan,’ he said softly, his breath stirring her hair, ‘it appears that you now have oil on your face too.’

‘I do?’ she breathed, completely mesmerised.

‘You do.’ He took the handkerchief out of her hand and gently wiped her cheek. ‘Have dinner with me tonight?’ he asked huskily.

‘I—I beg your pardon?’

‘Have dinner with me,’ he repeated, smoothing back her hair from her face.

‘I—I can’t,’ she refused reluctantly. She wanted to go out with him, very much, but she could hardly leave her mother on her own when she wasn’t well.

He straightened, his hands falling away from her hair, those beautiful brown eyes narrowing. ‘Boy-friend?’

She blinked her bewilderment. ‘Boy—–? Oh no,’ she smiled. ‘My mother, actually.’

‘Your mother?’ He raised dark eyebrows. ‘Aren’t you old enough to choose for yourself who you go out with?’

Megan laughed. ‘Of course I am. That wasn’t what I meant. My mother isn’t feeling well. Just a cold, I think—–’

‘In your expert opinion,’ he cut in mockingly.

She flushed. ‘A year’s training hardly qualifies me for anything.’ Unwittingly her bitterness showed. She had been a good nurse, had enjoyed her work and it had all been taken away from her by Roddy Meyers. If she ever met him again …! But that wasn’t likely to happen, he had already left the hospital on his way home before Megan herself had left. ‘But I think I can diagnose a cold,’ she added dryly.

‘How about later in the week?’

‘Well, I—I don’t know,’ she said reluctantly. ‘I’ll be working up at The Towers this week and—–’

‘You will?’ he frowned darkly.

‘Mm. Mum works in the kitchen, you see. And—well, we need the money. So if I’m working up at the house perhaps we could have lunch together one day. I think Mum usually finishes about one.’

He seemed to withdraw from her, moving to shut the hood of the tractor. ‘Maybe we could,’ he agreed noncommittally. ‘I think your brother will have to get someone out to look at this. I can’t pinpoint the trouble. He can borrow one of The Towers’ tractors until this one is on the go again.’ He turned to leave.

Megan watched him go, a frown on her face. ‘Jeff?’ she called after him, watching as he slowly turned, his hair appearing almost black in the strong sunlight. ‘I can call you Jeff, can’t I?’ she asked uncertainly.

He shrugged. ‘Why not?’

Why not, indeed? From his suddenly cold manner she must have done something to upset him. But what? ‘I wasn’t refusing to go out with you,’ she said hastily. ‘It’s just that it’s a bit awkward this week.’

He nodded. ‘Next week, perhaps.’

‘Or lunch …’ she trailed off as he strode away without turning.

What on earth was the matter with the man? He couldn’t just walk out of her life like this, not when he had suddenly become so important to her. And yet he was walking away, was even now turning the corner at the end of their dirt driveway. He’d gone!

And she would have to go too if she was to get to The Towers in time for work. They could have walked down together if he hadn’t disappeared so quickly. Oh well, perhaps he was just the moody type. She just hoped he was in a more friendly mood the next time she saw him.

She took her mother another cup of tea before leaving, assuring her that all the jobs around the farm had been taken care of.

‘No one told me how good-looking Jeff is.’ She plumped her mother’s pillows for her.

Her mother frowned. ‘Jeff Robbins?’

‘Mm. He’s really gorgeous!’

‘If you like that type. Has he just been down, then?’

‘Mm. He says the tractor needs expert attention. And tell Brian he said he could have one of The Towers’ tractors. Although what Snooty Mr Towers will say to that I don’t know.’

Her mother gave her a disapproving look. ‘I hope you didn’t talk about him like that to Jeff. He’s very loyal to Mr Towers.’

‘Mm,’ Megan sighed. ‘He didn’t seem to like it when I made a comment about his employer.’

‘What sort of comment?’ her mother asked worriedly. ‘You didn’t say anything insulting, did you, Megan? Jeff’s a friend of Brian’s, and—–’

‘Don’t worry so, Mum,’ she soothed. ‘Whatever I said it didn’t seem to bother him. He asked me out to dinner a little while later.’

‘Jeff did? But I thought he was taking out Rachel Saunders.’

That wouldn’t surprise her; he looked the sort of man who would already have a girl-friend, and Rachel Saunders was very beautiful. She and Megan had been at school together, although the two of them had never been friends, as Rachel was three years her senior. Megan remembered she had had a crush on Trevor Dunn, the boy Rachel had become engaged to. The engagement had later been broken, but the dislike had stuck.

‘Well, I’m not going, so it doesn’t really matter. Now I’m off to The Towers. Don’t forget to tell Brian about the tractor.’

‘I won’t, dear. And tell Mrs Reece I’ll try and be in tomorrow.’

‘I’ll tell her no such thing,’ Megan said firmly. ‘You’re going to stay right here until you’re completely better. I don’t mind going to The Towers.’ Especially if she got the chance of seeing Jeff Robbins again.

The Towers was a grey stone building, a massive place with at least fifteen bedrooms. It had belonged to Henry Towers until his death last year, and now it belonged to his nephew Jerome. Old Squire Towers, as Henry had been called, had run into debt over the estate, refusing to ask his nephew for help, claiming he was a pompous snob who would gloat over his uncle’s misfortune, and instead the Squire had resorted to selling off parts of the estate.

Of course the nephew had bought back all these smallholdings—except theirs!—and so old Squire Towers might just as well have asked him for the help in the first place. But at least this way he had been spared the humiliation of approaching his nephew with a begging bowl. The fact that Jerome Towers was a millionaire, and his uncle was scraping together every penny he could, should have told the former that unless he offered his help it would never be asked for. Obviously by the sale of the land he had never offered.

Megan walked up the long gravel driveway, admiring the rambling beauty of the house and accompanying stables, and walked around the back of the house to knock nervously on the kitchen door. It wouldn’t do for her to knock on the front door, not when she was just hired help!

A short, plump, red-faced woman opened the door, her ample frame covered by a paisley patterned overall. This just had to be Freda, the cook.

‘Yes, love?’ she smiled.

Megan smiled back shyly, and explained about her mother’s illness and the fact that she had come as her replacement.

Freda was suitably sympathetic about Emily Finch’s illness, although she looked rather harassed. ‘Thank goodness you’re here, love, that’s all I can say,’ she sighed. ‘Patsy’s not come in today either, and I’ve just cooked Mr Towers’ brother’s breakfast and there’s no one to take it up but me. I don’t like showing myself in the main part of the house. I’m a cook,’ she smiled happily, her three chins wobbling, ‘and a cook’s place is in the kitchen.’

And if this woman was any advert for the success of her own cooking it must indeed be first class!

‘Isn’t it a bit late for breakfast?’ Megan asked, hanging her jacket up behind the door. She had changed into a tan wool blouse and deep brown skirt, as her denims were hardly suitable for working here. Especially if she had to run all over the house with breakfast trays!

‘That it is. But he’s been having a bit of a rest. He only arrived yesterday.’

‘Well, so had she, but that didn’t mean she could laze about in bed all morning. In fact, she had been up earlier this morning than she usually was. ‘I didn’t know Mr Towers had a brother,’ she said interestedly, having thought him an only child.

‘Neither did we.’ Freda put a rack of toast on the tray with the plate of sausages, eggs and tomatoes. ‘Not until he arrived.’

He sounded exactly like his brother, thoughtless and selfish. ‘Shall I take the tray through now?’ Megan offered.

‘I’ll just put this pot of tea on, he likes tea in the morning. There!’ she looked down at her handiwork, ‘that ought to keep body and soul together until lunchtime.’

As it was almost that now, Megan wouldn’t be at all surprised. ‘Which way is the dining-room?’ she asked,

‘Oh, he isn’t in the dining-room, love,’ Freda smiled. ‘He’s upstairs in his bedroom.’

‘Oh,’ After her recent experience at the hospital she wasn’t sure she dared risk going to any man’s bedroom.

‘At the top of the stairs, fourth door on the right,’ Freda directed, not noticing her reluctance. ‘It’s very good of you to stand in for your mum, Megan. A good worker, is your mum.’

Megan knew that. Her mother had never been able to sit idle while there was work waiting to be done, and as there was usually plenty of work to do on the farm … ‘The rest will do her good,’ she smiled. ‘And I’ll do my best to take her place.’

‘I’m sure you will, love. I didn’t mean—–’

‘I know you didn’t,’ Megan laughed, knowing very well that this friendly lady had meant it as a compliment to her mother. ‘I’ll try not to be long with this,’ she promised.

She had the impression of unobtrusive luxury as she walked through the house, The Towers having been completely redecorated and refurnished before the new owner had moved in. The workmen had been working on the place for weeks before Jerome Towers moved in. Megan didn’t pause over her admiration of the new colour schemes, not wanting to arrive at the bedroom with a cold breakfast.

Not that she didn’t think the man deserved it. It was typical of Jerome Towers’ brother to arrive on the doorstep unannounced and then want to be waited on hand and foot. Breakfast in bed at ten-thirty in the morning, indeed! Brian had already put in five hours’ work by this time! It just didn’t seem fair.

She knocked on the wood-panelled door, hearing the mumble of some sort of answer. She knocked again, just in case it had been an instruction to wait and not to come in.

She heard another mumble inside, a crash as something hit the floor, and then the door swung open.

‘You!’ she exclaimed in horror, the tray almost falling out of her hands.

Standing in front of her, his blond hair tousled from sleep, his eyes bleary, his only garment a pair of blue silk pyjama trousers resting low down on his hips, the beginning of his recent appendectomy in evidence, was Roddy Meyers!

CHAPTER TWO

THE sleepy look left his eyes and he leant casually back against the doorjamb. ‘Well, well, well,’ he drawled mockingly, ‘if it isn’t Little Megan Finch!’

She had recovered from some of the shock by now—but not all of it! And she had thought she would never see him again, had hoped she would never see him again. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded accusingly. She must have the wrong bedroom, must have turned left instead of right, but that still didn’t explain this man being here.

The last time she had seen him had been when he had been pulled off her as she lay helpless on her bed, helpless because he had just pushed her there before attempting to make love to her. They had been discovered by a senior nursing officer as she did her rounds of the nurses’ home, and although Megan had claimed her innocence her story hadn’t been believed, because this man, Roddy Meyers, had claimed she had invited him there, had said she had been attracted to him from the first. Then of course the first incident in his private room had been brought up.

She couldn’t blame the people in charge for thinking the worst, not on the evidence they had. But she would never forgive this man for the lies he had told about her. He was despicable, and she hated him more than she had ever hated anyone in her life.

She pushed past him to put the laden tray down on the dressing-table. Damn Jerome Towers’ brother, he would have to wait for his breakfast, be it cold or not. She had something much more serious to deal with at the moment.

‘I asked you a question.’ She turned on Roddy Meyers, her green eyes sparkling angrily. ‘What are you doing at The Towers?’

‘I would have thought it was obvious,’ he taunted, obviously not realising how close he was to being struck. ‘I’m staying here.’

‘What is this?’ she snapped. ‘A hotel?’

He raised blond eyebrows. ‘Not as far as I know. What do you mean?’

Megan sighed, wondering why it was that she had resisted this young man’s advances so relentlessly that he had had to resort to force. He was good-looking in a youthful sort of way, twenty-five years of age, blond hair that was worn much too long, blue eyes, a handsome face, and yet she just hadn’t been attracted to him. That he hadn’t felt the same indifference had been obvious from the first moment they met; he had asked her every chance he got if she would go out with him. That her constant refusals had been responsible for her downfall she had no doubt.

‘I mean that Jerome Towers seems to have more guests here than the staff can cope with,’ she said rudely.

Roddy frowned. ‘Rome does?’

‘Rome?’

‘I’ve always called him that,’ he dismissed.

‘Bully for you,’ she taunted.

‘You don’t like him?’ he guessed shrewdly.

‘I’ve never met him,’ she didn’t directly answer the question. ‘Just why are you staying here?’

‘Have you forgotten, I was politely requested to leave the hospital?’ His sarcasm was unmistakable.

‘Well, at least it was politely done. I was thrown out,’ she remembered vehemently.

‘Mm, it was a shame about that, but—–’

‘A shame!’ she echoed shrilly. ‘It was more than that to me. You’ve ruined my career, you know. I’ll never get another job in a hospital. I’ll never know how you knew which room was mine, I certainly never told it to you.’

He grinned. ‘I asked your friend Tracy.’

Megan’s eyes widened in amazement. ‘And she told you, just like that?’ She had always thought Tracy her best friend at the hospital, had even promised to keep in touch, and now it turned out that Tracy had helped this man get her sacked. Somehow that didn’t sound like Tracy.

Roddy sat down on the bed, pushing his long hair back from his face. ‘Not just like that, no. I told her you’d invited me to your room, that you were expecting me, and that I’d forgotten your room number.’

‘And she believed you?’ Megan groaned. She knew a lot of the other girls sneaked boys into their room, although this was expressly forbidden in the hospital rules, but she had never been fond enough of anyone to take the risk of getting caught.

He shrugged. ‘She had no reason not to. I tell a very convincing story.’

‘Oh, I know that!’ to her cost!

‘Mm,’ he grinned. ‘What a coincidence us both being in the same area.’

‘I happen to live here,’ she snapped.

‘At least now I know I won’t be bored.’

Megan glared at him. ‘Don’t count on me to alleviate your boredom.’ She picked up the tray again. The food would be cold now, she would have to go down for a fresh lot.

Roddy was watching her. ‘Where are you going with that?’

‘To get fresh food and then take it to its rightful owner.’

‘Leave it,’ he ordered.

‘I—–’

‘It’s my breakfast, Megan,’ he said patiently.

‘But Jerome Towers’ brother—–’

‘Me,’ he nodded.

She nearly dropped the tray for the second time. ‘You are his brother?’ She just couldn’t be that unlucky.

‘That’s right,’ he smiled at her horror. ‘Half-brother actually, but that’s never counted for much.’

Just her luck! If anyone should ever find out that he was the man involved in her dismissal, and that he was staying so close to her home, they would never believe her innocence. ‘Does he know why you were asked to leave?’ she asked almost reluctantly.

Roddy laughed, taking the tray out of her hands and pouring himself a cup of tea. ‘He doesn’t even know I was asked to leave,’ he informed her calmly, ‘let alone why.’

‘He doesn’t?’ She almost sighed her relief. Maybe if Roddy Meyers was no more eager than she was to have their past meeting made public knowledge they could keep the scandal to themselves.

‘No,’ he bit into a piece of buttered toast, ‘I just told him I’d been discharged.’

‘And he believed you?’

‘He had no reason not to. So now you’re working for my brother?’ He eyed her speculatively.

‘No, I’m not, I’m just helping out. And now I know you’re here I don’t intend helping out any longer,’ she told him angrily. ‘I’m leaving, and right now!’

He moved in front of the doorway to stop her exit, his hands on her upper arms. ‘Don’t be like that, Megan. You’ve been against me from the first—why don’t you like me?’

She wished she knew that herself. ‘Maybe you try too hard,’ she evaded. ‘Whatever the reason, I want you to take your hands off me.’

‘Oh, come on, Megan, I still want to go out with you,’ he said coaxingly. ‘And now there’s no patient/nurse relationship to stop us we can—–’

‘I don’t remember that stopping you before!’

‘No, well—–’ he smiled, ‘you’re beautiful, very desirable. You can’t blame a man for being persistent.’

‘That persistent I can,’ she said indignantly. ‘I should hate you for what you did to me.’

‘But you don’t,’ he murmured softly, his gaze fixed on her parted lips. ‘Oh, Megan, I—–’

‘Roddy, are you going to get up to—–’ the voice trailed off as the man came to stand in the open doorway, his brown-eyed gaze levelled on them as they stood close together.

Megan wrenched away from Roddy Meyers’ embrace to face Jeff Robbins, and the censure in those deep brown eyes made her squirm with embarrassment. She had wanted to see him again, had intended making sure she did, but not when she was in Roddy Meyers’ arms.

‘I see yu’re already awake, Roddy,’ Jeff Robbins drawled, his gaze flickering over Megan almost insolently before passing back to Roddy. ‘And being entertained too, by the look of things.’

The younger man grinned. ‘I was just getting to know the new maid.’

‘I am not the new maid!’ Megan denied vehemently.

‘No, she isn’t,’ Jeff Robbins agreed. ‘Miss Finch is deputising for her mother,’ he explained abruptly.

‘I was just trying to persuade Megan to go out for a drive with me this afternoon,’ Roddy lied, knowing he had her trapped.

‘Really?’ Again brown eyes raked over her. ‘And did you manage to persuade her?’

‘She’s a bit hard to pin down to anything definite,’ Roddy grinned. ‘But I live in hope.’

‘Don’t we all?’ Jeff drawled.

All humour left Roddy’s face. ‘Have you been after her too?’ he queried resentfully.

‘No one has been “after” me!’ Megan cut in on their conversation, wishing Roddy Meyers would shut up, and that she could persuade Jeff Robbins that this situation wasn’t like it looked. But he didn’t look any more ready to believe her than they had at the hospital two days ago.

‘Haven’t they?’ Jeff asked, eyes narrowed.

‘No! I—–’

‘Hey, Rome, I think she’s embarrassed,’ Roddy mused.

Rome? This was Jerome Towers? But it couldn’t be—could it? But what other explanation could there be for him to be walking about the house? The estate manager would have no need to do that. Why hadn’t he told her this morning who he was? No wonder he hadn’t known about the tractor he was supposed to mend!

Why hadn’t he corrected her mistake? Had he enjoyed listening to her make a fool of herself? The reason he had changed his mind about taking her out became obvious; he would hardly want to date someone who was working as kitchen help in his own house. Everything the old Squire had ever said about this man suddenly seemed true—he was a pompous snob.

He was still watching her with narrowed eyes, obviously knowing of her surprise. ‘Maybe you should get some clothes on, then she wouldn’t feel that way.’

‘Megan’s used to seeing men without their clothes on,’ his brother dismissed.

Jerome Towers’ contempt seemed to increase. ‘Is she now?’ he grated.

‘Of course she is—she’s a nurse, isn’t she?’

‘How do you know that? Did you know Megan before today?’ Jerome queried suspiciously.

‘She was on my ward, weren’t you, love?’ Roddy looked at her for confirmation.

Megan blushed, the look in her eyes willing him not to reveal any more about their previous meeting. ‘Yes,’ she nodded, her gaze still on Roddy.

‘Before she was ill, of course?’ Jerome Towers enquired coolly. ‘If she had you for a patient, Roddy, I can quite understand her not being strong enough to carry on,’ he added mockingly.

Roddy looked at Megan with amusement. ‘I didn’t realise.… I wondered why you suddenly disappeared,’ he taunted.

Megan gave him a resentful glare. ‘Well, now you know,’ she snapped.

‘Yes,’ he grinned, ‘now I know.’

‘Shouldn’t you be getting back to the kitchen, Miss Finch?’ Jerome Towers asked harshly. ‘I’m sure Freda could do with your help.’

Colour flooded her cheeks at his intended rebuke. ‘Yes, of course. If you’ll excuse me.’

‘Gladly,’ he drawled.

‘Megan?’ Roddy Meyers stopped her at the door. ‘Can I take it that our drive is on for this afternoon?’

Her eyes flashed. ‘You—–’

‘Maybe then you could tell me about your illness,’ he added mockingly.

Megan gave Jerome Towers a sharp look, biting her lip as she read the contempt in his gaze. What gave him the right to be so high and mighty? ‘Yes, all right,’ she agreed to Roddy’s blackmail—for that surely was what it was. But she would tell him a few home truths this afternoon! ‘What time?’ She couldn’t look at either of them in her anger, but stared down at her hands.

‘About two-thirty?’

‘Okay. I’ll meet you downstairs.’ She didn’t want her mother and Brian getting to know of the meeting, especially Brian. If he found out their connection he was likely to seek the younger man out and challenge him to a fight. Then there would be no possibility of hiding the past.

‘I’ll pick you up at your home,’ he insisted.

‘No! No,’ she said less sharply, knowing that Roddy could be deliberately troublemaking if he knew how much she wanted to keep him away from her home. ‘I’ll enjoy the walk over.’

‘All right,’ he shrugged. ‘She knows her own mind,’ he told his brother laughingly.

Jerome Towers’ expression remained grim. ‘So I’ve noticed.’

Megan shot him a resentful glare before leaving the room, running down the wide flight of stairs as if the devil himself were after her. Seconds later she felt as if he were!

‘Miss Finch!’ Jerome Towers stood at her side as she reached the bottom step.

It took all her courage to turn and face him, to face the disapproval that she knew would be in his face. Why should he be so disapproving? He was the one who had lied and deceived her. She felt an absolute fool now when she thought of the way she had acted with him, the things she had said. And she had let him kiss her! No!—she had let Jeff Robbins kiss her, not this arrogant stranger.

‘Yes, Mr Towers?’ she asked in a stilted voice, looking steadily into those censorious brown eyes.

‘Freda said you took Roddy’s breakfast up fifteen minutes ago,’ he said curtly.

Whatever she had been expecting him to say it hadn’t been this. She frowned her puzzlement. ‘Yes?’

‘If you are to continue deputising for your mother until she is well enough to return I would advise you not to spend too much time in my brother’s bedroom, no matter what your relationship may have been with him before you came here.’

Megan gasped. ‘What has Roddy been saying?’

‘He’s hardly had time to say anything,’ Jerome Towers said dryly. ‘But your own response points to my assumption being a correct one. And the other staff will draw their own conclusions if you take fifteen minutes to deliver his breakfast every morning.’