Alix absorbed her words with an effort. Melissa was not Oliver's child, she kept telling herself incredulously. There was no haunting Japanese beauty in the shadows of his past, and Melissa's resemblance to him was simply that of family likeness—Joanne had been his cousin, after all.

  Then other thoughts invaded her mind. Lady Morgan had erased the stigma of Melissa's illegitimacy from Oliver's shoulders, that was true, but was she also aware "she had provided the perfect motive why he should wish

  Joanne dead? At her death, he inherited a tremendous amount of money, as well as the opportunity to acknow­ledge Melissa as his daughter.

  Thrusting these thoughts aside, however, she said, 'Why are you telling me all this, Lady Morgan?'

  The older woman lifted her shoulders. 'I thought you would be interested.'

  'I am. You know I am. But—'

  'Look!' Lady Morgan broke in gently. 'I know how you feel about Oliver.'

  'You—do?'

  'Of course. Don't be like Joanne and imagine that be­cause I'm sixty-three I've lost the ability to see—and feel. I know you're attracted to him, and perhaps he is attracted to you, but—and it's a very big but—don't be fooled into thinking that he might be serious.'

  Alix couldn't let that go. Oliver had said he loved her, after all. 'Why not?' she demanded.

  'Because,' Lady Morgan paused, 'although Oliver in­herited Joanne's estate when she died, if he marries again, he loses it.'

  Alix's cheeks flamed. 'He might not care.'

  'I think he would.'

  'Why?' Alix stared at her.

  'Because of Melissa, of course. Do you think it's fair that he should deprive Joanne's daughter of her mother's estate?'

  Alix rested her elbows on the edge of the table, cupping her hot face in her hands. Of course, Oliver would not do that. If he had been prepared to bring Melissa to England at whatever cost to his wife, he would hardly be prepared to deny her a secure future now. And his work, no matter how successful at present, could not be said to be a steady profession.

  'So you see ...' explained Lady Morgan, 'what I'm tell-

  ing you is for your own good. And in any case, aren't you forgetting something?'

  'What?' Alix frowned.

  'Why, your husband, naturally. And I further doubt that Oliver would expose Melissa to the publicity of a divorce case at this stage in her development.'

  And Melissa herself was no small problem, thought Alix miserably. She had made it plain from the beginning that she would not welcome another woman to dilute her adopted father's affections.

  Alix pushed her teacup aside, and linked cold hands together in her lap. 'So what do you think I should do?' she asked in a small voice.

  Lady Morgan looked thoughtful for a moment, then she said: 'I think, when you go home for Christmas, as indeed you must, you should not come back.'

  'And—and Melissa's education?'

  'We'll get someone else. Someone older, I think. I did think you were somewhat unsuitable at the time, but if you remember, I had no alternative but to choose you.' - Alix bent her head, unable to meet her eyes, sure that the reasons she had been sent here must be mirrored in hers for anyone to see. How successful she had been, she thought bitterly. In this brief space of time she had learned everything she had come here to learn, and if she wrote her story now, Willie would feel his faith in her during the past five years had been justified. And if she didn't write the story, and she had no intention of doing so, she would no doubt be fired on the spot...

  'Heavens!' Lady Morgan was looking at her watch now. 'It's after four-thirty! Oliver and Melissa will be waiting for us. Come along, my dear, we must hurry. Oliver doesn't like to be kept waiting.'

  Alix gathered her bags and parcels and followed Lady Morgan into the lift, but her movements were slow and

  automatic and they reached the ground floor without her being aware of it.

  Outside, the older woman jostled her along, giving her occasionally anxious stares, as if, Alix thought in a moment of lucidity, she was half afraid of the conse­quences of her uninvited confidences.

  Oliver and Melissa were waiting outside the car-park, stamping their feet to keep warm. The crowds of shoppers had thinned somewhat now, although the traffic more than made up for any lessening of activity by pedestrians. Oliver started forward as Alix and his aunt appeared, and it was obvious from his expression that he was not well pleased.

  'Where the devil have you been?' he demanded, and Alix noticed he addressed his remarks to her and not to his aunt. 'It's after a quarter to five. Couldn't you have left whatever it was you had to buy until another day?'

  'It was my fault, Oliver,' put in Lady Morgan sooth­ingly. 'I insisted on having a cup of tea in Fenwicks, and by the time we were served—'

  'Let's get in the car, shall we?' suggested Oliver ab­ruptly, and Alix surprised a rather anxious expression on Melissa's face as they walked into the building. She had said nothing since they appeared, and Alix guessed that she had borne the brunt of her father's anger. Poor Melissa!

  No, lucky Melissa! a small voice inside her jeered cruelly. She had been given the right to live with Oliver for as long as she liked! He had let nothing stand in the way of that.

  The Mercedes was chilled after standing for several hours in the stone-built surrounds of the multi-storey car-park. Even so, it was much warmer than being out­side, and Alix hoped the isolation of the journey back to the Hall would cushion her against what would come after. She still intended telling Oliver her real identity, and then it would be up to him whether she left forth­with or waited until Christmas as his aunt had decreed. Either way, she could not afford to be weak. No matter that her worst suspicions had not made any difference to her feelings for him; Melissa had had a raw deal until now. Alix couldn't deprive her of the future that was rightly hers, even supposing Oliver should ask her to, which seemed very unlikely after he learned the truth about her deception. She shivered as she contemplated his reaction to her confession. Facing Willie seemed a mild fate by comparison, and she spared little thought for what she would do after her dismissal from the magazine. Sufficient unto the day, she quoted silently to herself with despairing aptness.

  The fog had cleared and Oliver made excellent time on the journey home. The Mercedes simply ate up the miles, and Alix guessed he was expunging some of his own frus­tration in an exhilarating turn of speed. Even Melissa lost her anxious expression and, turning in her seat, began to tell her grandmother all the exciting things she had seen at the Toy Fair. And she really was her grand­daughter, Alix thought emotionally.

  'There were dolls that could suck a feeding bottle, just like a real baby!' Melissa declared, wide-eyed. 'And then ...' She glanced hopefully at her father. 'And then ... they wet their nappies!' She giggled. 'Imagine that!' j Oliver made no comment, however, and it was left to Alix and Lady Morgan to show interest in what the child was saying. The little girl was clearly disappointed at her father's reaction, but she had learned not to expect more than he was prepared to give her.

  In no time at all it seemed they were stopping before the tall iron gates of Darkwater Hall, and Alix wondered if the journey had seemed so short because she was dread­ing what must come after. Giles came out to open the gates for them, but when Oliver would have driven straight past, he put up his hand to halt him.

  'Excuse me, sir,' he said, hurrying to the window that Oliver impatiently - opened, 'but there's visitors at the Hall.'

  'Visitors!' Alix could almost physically feel Oliver' freezing anger. 'I thought I left orders that no one, but no one '

  'I know, sir, I know.' Giles was clearly distressed. 'But —well, it's the young lady's husband, sir, and he insisted on being admitted.'

  Alix's mouth opened. Her husband! But she had no husband, she wanted to cry hysterically. In God's name, what was going on?

  Oliver looked round at her, and even in the paltry light cast by Giles' torch she could see the anger glittering in bis eyes. 'Did you invite your husband here?' he demanded.

  Alix shook her head helplessly. She couldn't tell him here, not like this, not with Lady Morgan and Melissa looking on, avid with curiosity. 'I—I don't know anything about it,' she exclaimed. That, at least, was the truth!

  Oliver swung round to face Giles again. 'Very well,' he said abruptly, winding up his window, and leaving the anxious gatekeeper staring after them, he sent the Mercedees' wheels spinning as he depressed the accelerator.

  Alix was first out of the car when it stopped before the steps that led into the Hall. She looked about her frantically, searching for another vehicle, but whoever had assumed her husband's identity must have arrived on foot, as she herself had done. Oliver got out and opened the door for his aunt while Melissa helped Alix gather her parcels. They were all aware of the tenseness in the atmosphere around them and Alix thought how easily tempers could erupt.

  Seth opened the door as they were unloading the boot, and he came down the steps to help carry the bags. Lady Morgan took his arm to mount the steps and Melissa ran ahead, leaving Oliver and Alix alone for a moment.

  Alix looked anxiously up at the lighted doorway, and then with a feeling of desperation, she said: 'Oliver, there's so much I want to explain.'

  His rejection was almost tangible. 'Isn't it a little late for that?' he inquired grimly, snapping shut the boot.

  Alix sighed. 'I hope not,'

  Oliver straightened, his expression bleak. 'Why aren't you hurrying in to greet your husband?' he demanded. 'Whatever you say, he must care about you to come all this way to find you.'

  Alix caught his arm despairingly. 'Oliver—oh, Oliver, whoever that man is in there, he's not my husband!' She shook her head. 'I don't have a husband.'

  'What?'

  Oliver was still staring at her unbelievingly when a shadow fell across them as a man came to stand in the »h aft of light issuing from the open doorway. Alix turned her head instantly, aware of vaguely hostile eyes upon them, and then she said, 'Willie!' in a horror-stricken voice.

  'Hello, Alix.' Willie came down two steps, and then looked disbelievingly over his shoulder. When he turned again, his expression was almost as accusing as Oliver's. 'What a deceitful girl you are!'

  Alix stared into his unfriendly blue eyes. Why had she never noticed how closely set they were, or how pouched the skin beneath them? Willie was a big man, but his body was over-indulged and out of condition, and beside Oliver's lean frame his thickening waistline bulged unbecomingly. She knew he was younger than Oliver, only thirty-five or thirty-six, but the demands of his profession had taken their toll in more ways than one.

  Now Alix knew it was up to her to say something, and mounting the steps to reach him, she said sharply: 'What are you doing here, Willie?'

  Willie looked beyond her to the man who was mount­ing the steps behind her. Then he assumed an ingratiat­ing expression. 'Now is that any way to treat your hus­band?' he chided.

  Alix clenched her fists. 'You don't have to go on with that, Willie!' she told him coldly. 'Oliver knows you're not my husband—I've just told him.'

  Willie's expression changed. 'Oh, have y«u? That's very interesting. And does he know why you're here?'

  Alix's cheeks flamed. 'Not yet.'

  Oliver reached them. The words that had passed be­tween them had carried easily to his ears, and now ho said, 'I suggest we all go inside,' and waited for them to precede him into the building.

  Another surprise awaited Alix in the hall. Linsey Morris was hovering anxiously by the door leading into the drawing room, her agitation dissipating somewhat when she saw Alix and Willie. Then Oliver followed them inside, closing the door behind them, and her brown eyes widened with evident anticipation. Alix had never liked the other girl. She was everything that Alix was not small, slender as a reed, with a cap of chestnut hair that clung silkily to her well-shaped head. But Alix had never disliked her more than at the moment her greedy little eyes alighted on the man Alix knew she herself loved ...

  Willie seemed to recover his composure once he had Linsey to support him, and holding out his hand to Oliver, he said: 'As Alix seems reluctant to make intro- ductions, sir, I'll introduce myself. My name's William

  Faulkner, and this is my assistant, Linsey—'

  'I know who you are, Mr Faulkner,' Oliver interrupted jhim abruptly, walking across to the library. 'Will you come in here, please? Then we can continue our conversation without interruption.'

  Willie glanced sharply at Alix, and then he and Linsey hurried after their host. Alix herself hung back. She didn't want to be a part of their conversation. She didn't want to hear Willie explaining why he had sent her here, or to see Oliver's undoubted contempt. That Willie should have presumed on her letter to gain entry to Darkwater Hall was bad enough, but that Oliver should -recognise him and still be prepared to listen to what he had to say was worse, somehow. If only she could have prepared him in some way, if only she had told him the truth last night!

  'Alix!' Oliver's voice broke into her thoughts, and she lifted her head to look at him.

  He was standing in the doorway to the library, and she decided she could not blame Linsey for being attracted to him. She had been, after all, but it was a futile exercise for either of them.

  Now she looked down at her parcels, and said: 'Do you mind if I dispose of these?'

  Oliver looked over his shoulder into the library where his two uninvited guests were warming themselves before the fire. Then he strode quickly across the hall to where Alix was standing, and she fell back a step in alarm, half afraid he was going to strike her. But his voice was curiously rough, as he said impatiently: 'You look frozen! And shocked out of your mind!'

  Alix licked her dry lips. 'Wouldn't you be?' she chal­lenged tremulously.

  Oliver stared at her for a long minute,- and then he raked long fingers through his hair. 'I ought to break

  every bone in your body!' he muttered harshly.

  Alix shook her head. 'I—I wanted to tell you,' she protested. 'But—'

  'But you didn't!' he snapped shortly. 'Why not? Was it safer to pretend?'

  'Safer?' Alix shook her head. 'Well, I—I suppose so.'

  'What will you do now?'

  Alix tried to think coherently. 'I—well, go back to London, I suppose.'

  'I see.' Oliver's nostrils flared. 'And will you write your— story—for this magazine?'

  'No!' Alix's lips trembled. 'That—that's why Willie's here now. He thinks I've let him down.'

  Oliver muttered an oath and turned away. 'Go to your room,' he said shortly, 'I'll deal with this. I'll speak to you later.'

  Alix wanted to protest, but she had no desire to enter into arguments with Willie in front of Oliver, culmina­ting as she was sure they would in her dismissal. The last thing she wanted was Oliver's pity, or the ignominy of Linsey's triumph. She wanted to crawl away somewhere and hide, but Darkwater Hall possessed no hiding places.

  As she was going upstairs Melissa appeared, after the library door had closed uncompromisingly behind her father. She came to stand looking anxiously up at her, and when Alix went on her way, she came after her.

  'What is it?' she cried. 'What's wrong? Why are you crying?'

  'I'm not crying!' exclaimed Alix, rubbing determinedly at her cheeks. 'I—your father and I had a little disagree­ment, that's all.'

  Melissa looked unconvinced, and when Alix reached her bedroom the little girl was just behind her. 'Can I come in?' she asked, and without waiting for permission, opened the door.

  Alix dropped her parcels on to a chair and turned to survey her small visitor. 'Where's your grandmother?' she asked.

  'She's rung for tea in the drawing room,' explained Melissa, frowningly scuffing at the carpet with her toe. 'She told me to keep out of the way.'

  Alix couldn't prevent a hall smile. 'But you didn't,' she pointed out.

  'No.' Melissa hunched her shoulders. 'Why was Daddy so angry? Are you going back to London with your— husband?'

  Alix sighed. 'He's not my husband, Melissa,' she said, unable to dissemble any longer. 'I'm not married.'

  'You're not?' Melissa's eyes were wide. 'But why did you say you were?'

  'It's a long story,' said Alix, trying to be businesslike. 'Now, what did I do with my handbag?'

  Melissa retrieved the bag in silence and handed it to her. Then she said thoughtfully, 'So you won't be leaving?'

  Alix felt an hysterical laugh rising inside her. 'I think I probably shall,' she said tautly.

  'But why?' Melissa stared at her. 'Has Daddy asked you to go? Was that why you were crying?'

  'Melissa, I wasn't crying!' Alix could feel her nerves stretching ominously. 'But—well, I think your father would agree that in the circumstances-it's best if I do go.'

 

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