‘It doesn’t alter the fact that Laura is my guest, and as such has a perfect right to be here,’ Jonathan argued, not in the least daunted by Quinn’s frosty response.
‘I wanted to see the house,’ Laura added expansively, not to be outdone. ‘When Jonathan told me he was coming here for Christmas, I knew it was the perfect time for me to come too.’
‘Even though you know you’re not wanted here?’ Quinn charged coldly.
Laura winced inwardly as that jibe found its mark. She knew she wasn’t wanted, but she hoped to change that. If it meant putting up with this man, she would do it.
‘I have a very thick skin,’ she lied, looking him squarely in the eye and daring him to say more.
Quinn gave them both long looks, then shrugged as if to say he had done his best. ‘Very well, if you’re determined to stay I can’t stop you, but I’m warning you now, Laura. If you upset anyone, you’ll have me to answer to. Do you hear me?’
‘I should imagine everyone can hear you,’ she replied with dismissive irony. ‘By the way, what will you do if someone upsets me?’
He sent her an old-fashioned. ‘Somehow, I seriously doubt that will happen.’
She couldn’t help but laugh, though her dislike of him was increasing by leaps and bounds. ‘You have me all worked out, don’t you?’ she charged, and he nodded, his eyes glinting mockingly.
‘Right down to the last dot so, if you’re wise, you’ll be very careful and walk softly.’ With which piece of advice, he turned his back on the pair of them and disappeared into the lounge.
Laura let out a soundless whistle. ‘Wow!’
‘Ditto,’ Jonathan drawled wryly.
‘I don’t think he likes me,’ she declared with a satisfied smile. The more he disliked her, the more she liked it.
‘I can tell you’re bothered.’
She laughed grimly. ‘Quinn Mannion needs taking down a peg or two. Did you see how easily he believed everything I said? Incredible!’
‘What I saw was you playing with fire. He’s not the sort of man to make an enemy of, Laura.’
He was already her enemy. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Besides, nobody’s going to run me off. Especially not Quinn Mannion!’
Jonathan gave her a worried look. ‘Seriously, Laura. I wouldn’t tangle with him if I were you. He doesn’t believe in losing,’ he cautioned like the good friend he was.
Losing wasn’t on her agenda, either, she thought determinedly. ‘I’m only going to play with him a little.’ Just enough to really irritate him. She would be the nuisance fly he just couldn’t swat.
Jonathan look at her unhappily. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this, but I don’t suppose that’s going to change your mind, is it?’ he asked as he took her by the elbow and turned her towards the door Quinn had disappeared through.
‘Not in the least,’ she agreed determinedly. ‘Oh, by the way, I liked the look of your Caroline,’ she added gently, and wasn’t in the least surprised to see a tide of warm colour wash into his cheeks. Aha. So she was getting warm.
‘She’s not my Caroline,’ Jonathan denied, and Laura smiled sympathetically.
‘Really? Then why did I get the impression she might like to be? She was very put out to see me arriving with you, and that was before she knew who I was,’ she told him, and felt her heart twist at the sudden hope she saw in his eyes.
‘She was?’ he asked with such boyish eagerness it quite made her envious.
Laura slipped her arm through his and gave it a squeeze. ‘Oh, yes. I think it might not be quite as hopeless as you imagine.’ She hoped she was right. One look at Caroline Stevens had convinced her that she was just the sort of woman Jonathan needed.
The sound of raised voices greeted them as they approached the doorway to the lounge, and Laura braced herself for their entry into the room.
‘Mother, you cannot have that woman in this house!’ a female voice declared in outrage. ‘You can’t let her insult you so!’
‘Oh, Stella, darling, do keep your voice down. She’ll hear you,’ a gentler voice implored softly.
‘I don’t care if she does! Quinn should have seen her off at once!’ the younger voice declared unrepentantly.
Just as if I were a beggar, Laura thought desolately, trying not to be hurt but feeling it all the same. Was it naive to expect these people to like her? Wasn’t she just asking for trouble? Maybe, but she was committed now. She had to go on.
They stepped inside just as Stella Nevin dropped back into her chair. Everyone turned to look at them.
‘Stop being such a brat, Stella,’ the man seated at her side rebuked her. ‘I apologise for my wife’s childish behaviour,’ he added, and Laura realised he must be Ian Nevin.
She had never lacked courage but, in all honesty, she hadn’t expected it to be quite so difficult to walk in there. There was a distinctly uncomfortable atmosphere in the room, and she knew it was due to her presence. She quickly took stock of the occupants. She recognised Maxine and her two children from the photographs Alexander had had of them, and of course Stella’s husband. The only other occupant besides Quinn, his sister and her children was Philip’s girlfriend. A tiny brown mouse of a girl who looked as if she wouldn’t say boo to a goose.
Not so Stella. She had every intention of having her opinion heard. ‘Don’t apologise to her,’ she declared, affronted. ‘Why, she’s nothing but a…a…’
Fortunately, Stella’s reaction was just the goad Laura needed to bolster her nerve. ‘Gold-digger appears to be the description of choice.’ She helped her out as she strolled into the room with every appearance of calm. Hopefully nobody would realise she was faking it
Colour stormed into her half-sister’s pretty face, but her chin went up. ‘Gold-digger, then!’ she repeated, and Laura couldn’t help but laugh, for she knew that look. It had graced her own face countless times as she was growing up. Laughter eased her tension wonderfully.
‘Bravo,’ she applauded, and Stella frowned at her in sudden confusion.
Turning away from her half-sister, Laura took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she walked over to where Maxine Harrington sat in a chair by the fire. She was an elegant if frail-looking woman who had never been beautiful, but had a presence that age could not dim.
Laura held out her hand. ‘How do you do, Mrs Harrington? I’m very pleased to meet you at last,’ she said pleasantly, determined that she, at least, would show good manners, whatever reception she received.
Maxine Harrington looked from the outstretched hand to Laura’s face and for a moment Laura was sure she was not going to respond. She was bracing herself for the blow when the other woman slowly raised her hand and offered it.
‘How do you do, Miss Maclane?’ she said politely, and Laura found she had to swallow a lump in her throat.
‘Please, call me Laura,’ she urged in a husky voice.
Maxine recovered her hand and rested it in her lap. ‘Laura, then,’ she agreed with a faint smile, and Laura was painfully aware that she had not been given the same leave. Maxine Harrington accepted her presence here, but her graciousness only went so far.
Her eyes were drawn to where Quinn stood behind Maxine’s chair. He was regarding her quizzically, silently asking her what else she might have expected. Nobody wanted her here. She was on sufferance, nothing more. If he thought to dismay her, the effect was the opposite. She stiffened her spine, reminding herself she had always known it would be neither comfortable nor easy. A fact which was reinforced