Читать книгу Dangerous Rhapsody - Anne Mather, Anne Mather - Страница 8

SAINTE DOMINIQUE’S bay was a small, peaceful island, situated on the Windward side of the Abaco Cays. That morning, as their launch cruised its way towards their destination, Emma had seen dozens of tiny islands and atolls, sprouting out of the sea. She had spent the journey leaning on the rail enthralled with her surroundings. Some of the islands were covered with houses and resembled villages set in water instead of amongst fields. Others were quite deserted, their white beaches seemingly untrodden by human foot.

It was another wonderfully clear day, and the early morning mist had dissipated leaving a vista of blue sea and sky as far as the eye could see. Now that she was nearing her destination, Emma was beginning to feel twinges of nervousness. It was all very well for Chris to aver that she would receive a very warm welcome, but he was not going to be staying, he would be returning to Sainte Catherine almost immediately, and she would be left alone with strangers.

The launch could not go right in because of the shallowness of the water, so Christopher and the boatman, a dark-skinned Negro, pulled on thigh-length waders and Christopher carried Emma up on to the sand. The boatman brought her cases, and Christopher took charge of them.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘This way. I should have thought the reliable Miss Meredith would have had Annabel on the beach to meet you.'

Emma sighed, and followed him up the incline and through a belt of palm trees. They came upon a clearing through the trees where several thatched huts indicated that this was the native village, where the servants who worked at the house were housed.

Beyond the village, another clump of trees hid the homestead itself.

Damon Thorne's house was low and modern, without having the type of structure which would be out of place on an island like this. Shutters were bolted back from windows which stood wide to the morning air, while climbing plants in a glory of colour overhung the walls. The gardens in front of the house were a riot of colour also, and Emma recognized oleanders and hibiscus, as well as more common varieties such as roses and nasturtiums. Wide, shallow steps led up to white double doors which at present were standing open, and Christopher glanced at Emma to make sure she was behind him before mounting the steps and waiting for her by the door.

‘Go on,’ he said, prodding her into the hall. ‘No one's going to bite you.'

The hall was cool with a tiled floor and white panelled walls. Doors led off to the various regions of the house while a horseshoe staircase drew attention to a white-balustraded gallery.

Immediately at their entrance, a tall, slim woman came walking towards them down this beautiful staircase, her eyes cool and aloof, appraising Emma.

Christopher stood down Emma's suitcases, and grinned. ‘Well, well! If it isn't the inestimable Louisa, herself. How are you, my old love?'

Louisa Meredith ignored him, and came towards Emma. ‘You must be Miss Harding,’ she said coldly. ‘You were expected yesterday.'

Emma flushed, disconcerted. ‘Oh, but I understood … I mean … Mr. Thorne seemed to think …’ She faltered. Then she stiffened her shoulders. ‘You are Annabel's governess, are you not?'

The woman nodded faintly. ‘It is obvious Mr. Thorne was thinking only of himself. Unfortunately, his action had unexpected consequences.'

Emma stared at her. ‘In what way?'

‘The nurse who had charge of Annabel left three days ago. Yesterday, with no one to entertain her, Annabel went exploring alone. Unfortunately, she fell in the swimming pool; she can't swim. Had Henri, one of the servants, not been nearby, she would have drowned.’ She spoke the words in a hard, unfeeling voice, as though she was discussing the weather, and Emma was terribly shocked.

She did not know what to say. She shook her head. ‘I'm very sorry,’ she said, glancing at Christopher, who grunted unintelligibly.

‘When did this happen?’ he asked.

‘Yesterday afternoon. As I said, fortunately Henri was passing by, and heard her cries. We thought we had better keep her in bed today, to avoid any ill effects.'

Christopher grimaced at her. ‘And what were you doing at the time? Polishing your nails?'

‘That remark was uncalled-for!’ exclaimed Louisa angrily. Although she was only in her thirties she seemed much older, and Emma thought glumly that she had indeed made an inauspicious start to her duties.

‘Well, anyway,’ said Christopher, shrugging, ‘Emma wouldn't have arrived much before tea-time if we had come yesterday, so you can hardly consider her to blame.'

‘Did I say I was blaming Miss Harding?'

‘You implied it. Oh, well, shut up about it. Where is the kid? I may as well see her before I leave.’ He walked towards the stairs. ‘Come on, Emma, I'll introduce you. Leave your cases. Louisa, get someone to take the cases to Emma's room. If you tell me where she's sleeping, I'll show her that too.'

‘I'm not the housekeeper here,’ retorted Louisa, turning away.

Christopher compressed his lips. ‘No, ma'am, you're not. But either you do as I say, or I'll personally make it my business to report you to Mr. Thorne.'

Louisa did not look disturbed. In fact, if anything, her face assumed a rather smug expression. ‘That may not be as difficult as you may think,’ she remarked slyly. ‘Naturally, I had to wire Mr. Thorne of Annabel's accident. I sent the cable this morning, and of course I had to tell him that Miss Harding had not yet arrived.'

‘You …’ Christopher bit off an epithet. ‘Emma, come along. I can't stand any more of this.'