Holding Robin’s hand, she followed meekly, the problem being easy to guess. Mrs Fulton, she realised, would have left the boy with this man and then gone on her way, whereas she herself expected to stay with the lad at least for one night. But this, from the sound of his tone, did not suit Ryan Elison, and suddenly Judy felt very forlorn and unwanted. Depression settled upon her as she identified their two suitcases, but she tried to shake it off by telling herself she was overreacting.
A short time later they were seated in a dark green Range Rover, little being said as Ryan drove them round the harbour, where yachts rested in the calm waters of the Napier Sailing Club’s marina. Beyond the masts several fishing boats lay at anchor, and after passing a small shopping area they were rewarded by the sight of Hawke Bay, its wide, circular wave-crested expanse rimmed by distant coastal hills. On the seafront ahead of them lofty Norfolk pines rose from a long grassy verge bordering the road. And across the road from the trees stretched a row of houses, their windows glistening from the rays of the late westering sun.
Ryan stopped the vehicle in front of a wide, white two-storey house that faced the bay. A garage formed part of its base, and instead of a garden the frontage had been paved, to form a parking area between the house and the road. It was large enough to accommodate several cars, its austerity softened and made colourful by tubs filled with winter-flowering pansies, anemonies in bud and shrubs of red japonica that stood in brilliant contrast against the wall.
He switched off the ignition, but instead of getting out of the Range Rover he turned to stare at Judy. ‘Miss Arledge—you’ ve not yet explained your situation,’ he reminded her smoothly. ‘Do you-or do you not have plans for your accommodation in Napier?’
She almost quailed beneath the hardness of his tone. ‘No—I’m afraid I haven’t—’
His lips tightened. ‘You mean you’re expecting to stay with me? Is that what you’re trying to say?’ The question was rasped.
‘If—if you’ll have me,’ she returned in a small voice.
‘Well—I must say this is an unexpected turn of events,’ he admitted bluntly.
Her delicate brows rose as she met his gaze with frankness. ‘I’m well aware that something about me niggles at you, Mr Ellison, but I’m darned if I can work out what it can be—or what I’ve done to merit your antagonism?’
His dark brows drew together. ‘Please understand that it’s nothing personal. It’s just that I didn’t think I’d be expected to offer hospitality to a girl such as yourself.’
‘There’s something wrong with me?’ Her eyes flashed at him indignantly, widening until the reflection from her deep blue padded rain-jacket made them glitter like sapphires.
‘Yes—plenty,’ he snapped. ‘You’re too damned attractive to be staying in a house alone with a man and a small boy. I don’t have young women living with me—and I intend to keep it that way.’
She spoke softly as light dawned. ‘I see. You have a girlfriend who would object?’
‘Not exactly.’ His tone had become terse. ‘However—I do happen to have a reason.’
‘But we wouldn’t be alone,’ she reasoned. ‘You have a housekeeper. Mrs Simmons said so.’
He spoke harshly. ‘Hilda Simmons—or the dragon as I prefer to think of her—was mistaken. Kate Coster, who attends to my washing and housework, has her own cottage next door. She does not live with me.’
Judy’s jaw sagged slightly. ‘Oh, I see...’
Robin’s voice piped up from the seat behind them. It sounded tearful. ‘Don’t you want us to stay with you, Uncle Ryan?’
The man sent a startled glance over his shoulder, and it seemed as if he’d momentarily forgotten the little boy’s presence. ‘Yes, of course I do,’ he said hastily. ‘It’s just that there are times when things can be inconvenient.’
Robin’s voice became even more plaintive as he asked another question. ‘Uncle Ryan, have you got a toilet in your house?’
‘Of course, old chap. We’ll go inside right away.’ Turning to Judy, he said, ‘We’ll continue this discussion later...before you leave. Perhaps you can also throw light on one or two points that have been puzzling me.’
Before you leave. she noticed, but made no comment.
As they left the Range Rover and went towards the front door she also noticed that Ryan carried Robin’s suitcase but had left her own in the vehicle. It made her realise he was adamant in not wishing to have her stay in his house, and that he fully intended to find other accommodation for her. The knowledge gripped her with a surge of disappointment, but she kept it well hidden by remaining silent as she followed him upstairs to the main living quarters.
Robin’s most urgent need was attended to, and then he was shown into the smallest of four bedrooms opening off a passageway. It held a single bed with bedside table, a dressing table and a built-in wardrobe. He opened the door of the latter, and, having surveyed its emptiness, turned to the tall man with a wistful query. ‘Uncle Ryan—have you got any toys?’
Ryan looked vaguely amused. ‘Did you expect to find some in there?’
Robin nodded. ‘Gran makes me put them away in the wardrobe. I don’t want dolls and things for girls...’
Ryan flicked a glance towards Judy, then spoke in a serious tone. ‘I dare say we can both do without dolls. I’ve been avoiding them for years. As for toys, tomorrow you and I shall visit the shops to see what we can find for boys.’
‘And Judy—she’ll come with us?’ Robin asked anxiously.
‘We’ll see about that,’ Ryan said in a noncommittal tone, ‘Miss Arledge will probably be busy doing other things.’
Judy turned away to stare unseeingly through the window. It was easy to guess at what this autocratic man considered she’d be doing. No doubt winging her way back to Christchurch on tomorrow’s first night. She bit her lip as she again became gripped by a sense of having been rejected. Then came frustration, because she was unable to see what to do about it.
Of course, if she returned to Christchurch so rapidly she’d be doing exactly as the dictatorial Hilda Simmons had decreed. But she hadn’t visited the coastal city of Napier befone, and now that she was here the desire to have a look at the place was strong. It had nothing to do with Ryan Ellison, she assured herself firmly. Her recent experience with Alan Draper had turned her off men. Although she had to admit that there was something about this particular man that interested her—something that made her feel it would be nice to get to know him a little better, if only she could find a way past his initial hostility.
Ryan cut into her thoughts. ‘I can hear Miss Coster in the kitchen. She’s probably making a cup of tea.’ He guided Judy towards the living room, which had a dining alcove adjoining it, the latter being attached to the kitchen by an archway instead of a door.
Kate Coster came forward to meet Judy. She was a tall, gaunt woman, with straight grey hair and a small tight mouth. Her pale grey eyes blinked in surprise as they took in Judy’s youthful appearance, missing nothing—not the depth of blue in her large eyes, the slight wave in her blonde hair, nor the golden lights that made it shine.
Ryan said, ‘This is not Mrs Fulton, as we expected, Kate. This is Miss Judith Arledge.’
Judy smiled and held out her hand. Determined to be pleasant, she said, ‘Most people call me Judy.’
Kate Coster ignored her outstretched hand and spoke bluntly. ‘Well, I must say you’re not what I expected. You look as though you’re still in the sixth form, or maybe just out of it.’
A cool smile touching his lips, Ryan explained,