'I don't want any,' replied Marian, looping the strap of her bag over her shoulder. 'I only came into the cafe because I saw you. It's such an age since we've had a gossip.'

'Oh.'

Kate managed to hide her dismay, but there was no way of escaping her until they reached the car park. 'How's your daughter?' she asked, tucking her arm through Kate's as if they were bosom friends. 'Joanne. She must be-what? Twelve or thirteen now.'

Kate frowned. 'She's nearly thirteen,' she conceded, not sure where this was leading. 'She's very well, thank you. I expect your little boy is growing up, too.'

'Bobby, yes.' Marian dismissed her son almost carelessly. 'But imagine, Joanne's almost a teenager. I bet she's quite a handful, isn't she?'

Kate sucked in her breath. She was beginning to see where this was heading. 'Joanne's okay,' she said as they reached the revolving doors. 'It was good of you to ask.'

'Well, I know what teenagers are like,' said Marian, accompanying her outside. 'My Bobby may be too young yet, but my younger sister's at Lady Montford, you know.'

Like Joanne.

She didn't say the words, but she might as well have done. It was obvious Marian knew about Joanne's suspension and had decided to gloat. Kate supposed she should be grateful for the distraction, but she resented the sly way Marian had brought it up.

'How's Marcus?' she asked casually. 'I saw his picture in the newspaper just last week. You must be very proud of him.'

She omitted to mention the fact that she already knew that Marian and Marcus were divorcing. It was cruel, perhaps, reminding the other woman of her ex-husband's success as an entrepreneur, but she deserved the dig. Kate might be disappointed in Joanne herself, but that was her business.

She'd do anything to protect her daughter from Marian's gossiping tongue.

'Marc and I split up some time ago,' Marian eventually told her tightly. 'But we're fine. Bobby's nearly six.' She seemed to recover her composure as they walked out into the car park. 'I can hardly believe it. But I imagine having a child of Joanne's age makes you feel quite old, aside from anything else.'

'Positively ancient,' agreed Kate, refusing to accept the challenge. She paused a moment, waiting to see which way Marian was heading before turning in the opposite direction. Then, after turning up the collar of her coat, she raised a hand in farewell. 'Take care,' she added pleasantly, and walked away.

In fact, Marian's car was parked practically next to the old Vauxhall, and Kate had to wait several minutes for the woman to drive away. She was shivering by the time she'd unlocked the car and got behind the wheel, and she reflected that it would serve her right if the car refused to start.

Thankfully, it didn't. Since Alex's mechanic had checked it out, she'd had no more trouble with it. According to the note he'd left sellotaped to the steering wheel, he couldn't find anything wrong with it. She'd evidently flooded the carburettor as Alex himself had said.

Nevertheless, she was in no mood to humour her daughter when she got home and found Joanne moping about the house. She had only herself to blame if she was bored, she told her shortly, ignoring her mother's look of warning, and Joanne muttered something under her breath before flouncing into her room.

'That wasn't very kind, Kate,' murmured Ellen Ross, helping her daughter unpack the groceries from the carrier bags. 'It isn't easy for her, spending all day cooped up in the flat.'

'And whose fault is that?'

Kate refused to let her mother make her feel guilty, and Ellen Ross's nostrils flared with sudden irritation. 'And you're not letting her forget it, are you? Not for a minute. Despite the fact that if it hadn't been for Joanne you'd have known nothing about it. Nor Mr Coulthard, either, though I suppose he was only doing his job. She could have gone on doing what the other girls were doing, but she didn't. You should be thankful she's not into drug-taking or something like that.'

Kate heaved a sigh. 'I should have known you'd take her side.'

'I'm not taking her side.' Ellen was indignant. 'I'm just trying to make you see that Joanne's not a bad girl, whatever you think.'

'I know.' Kate shook her head. 'Oh, I suppose I'll have to apologise. But, honestly, it's not been an easy day for me either.'

'Why?' Her mother regarded her with interest. 'Has something happened? I thought Mr Kellerman was away.'

'He is.' Kate hoped her mother would put the slight deepening of colour in her cheeks down to exertion. 'But I saw Marian Garvey in the supermarket. She couldn't wait to let me know she knew about Joanne.'

'I see.' Ellen looked thoughtful. 'Of course. The Westons' younger daughter goes to Lady Montford, too.'

'Yes.' Kate grimaced. 'I wouldn't be surprised if the whole town knows our business by now.'

'Stop exaggerating.' Kate's mother was philosophical. 'I doubt if anyone's interested in Joanne's suspension but us. She's not unique, Kate. I'm sad to say that being suspended these days is quite a common punishment.'

Kate finished putting the frozen items into the freezer and then propped her hips against the cupboard. 'I suppose you're right.'

'I am.' Ellen held her daughter's gaze for a moment and then looked away. 'So why do I get the feeling you're still on edge?'

Kate blew out a breath. 'I'm not on edge.'

'Of course you are.' Ellen was impatient. 'We've lived together too long, Kate. I always know when you've got something on your mind. What is it? You've been like this since you came home on Wednesday afternoon.'

Kate turned back to the counter. 'You're imagining things.'

'No, I'm not. What did Mr Kellerman say after you'd dropped Joanne off at the flat?' She paused, and when Kate still didn't speak she made a terse sound of frustration. 'I thought when he let you off early that he'd understood how you felt.'

Kate sighed. 'He did.'

'And you say he's been away for the past couple of days, so it can't be anything he's done.' She sighed. 'Oh, well, if you don't want to tell me, I'll have to a.s.sume it's me.'

Kate groaned. 'Give it a rest, Mum, please. Nothing's happened, all right? I'm-just not sure where this case is leading, that's all.'

'You mean you think it's a waste of time?'

'Not exactly.'

'Then you do suspect that Alex Kellerman may be responsible for this woman's disappearance?'

Her mother frowned. 'Oh, Kate, you will be careful, won't you?'

Kate shook her head. 'I don't know what I believe any more,' she said bleakly. She wrapped her arms about her midriff, as if to try and calm the churning nerves in her stomach. 'I-I think he may have had an affair with her. And if he did...'

'That doesn't make him a murderer,' argued Ellen practically. 'But I think you ought to tell Mr Sawyer what you've told me. It's not as if you're making any progress. Perhaps it is time you admitted defeat.'

It was a temptation to do as her mother suggested, but Kate ignored it. Despite what had happened, she was reluctant to give up her job at Jamaica Hill. She told herself it was because she'd made a start at gaining Mrs Muir's confidence, but the fact was that was very far from the truth.

'I'll give it another couple of weeks,' she said now, reaching for a bag of pasta. She split the Cellophane and dropped the contents into a pan. 'I thought we'd have spaghetti tonight,' she added, hoping her mother would take the hint. She didn't want to get into a long discussion about Alex Kellerman. She was far too unsure of the way she felt about him.

'Well, I think you're just filling in time until the money stops coming,' remarked Ellen reprovingly, but Joanne's reappearance from her bedroom prevented her from saying anything more. And Kate took the opportunity to make her peace with her daughter, thus evading any further discussion of the case.

The weekend pa.s.sed much too quickly. Kate, who had spent Sat.u.r.day and Sunday trying to avoid thinking about Alex Kellerman, had to summon all her courage just to get into the car and drive out to Jamaica Hill on Monday morning. Perhaps Mr Guthrie would be back, she cheered herself hopefully, and then was grateful when the traffic lights at the end of the high street turned to red at her approach.

Anything to delay her arrival at the stables, she thought ruefully, wondering how her employer would react when he saw her again. Perhaps he'd already thought of a reason to dismiss her, she reflected, and then chided herself for the hollow feeling that evoked inside her.

The trouble was, she'd started to like him, she conceded. It had been so kind of him to take her and Joanne to the school and then hang about until they came out. They'd both been grateful for his understanding, and when he'd invited her to have lunch with him she'd been happy to accept.

But that was when it had all started to unravel, she remembered. She'd been so edgy when he'd taken her arm to introduce her to the housekeeper that he'd got the idea that she was repulsed by his touch. If only he knew, she brooded tensely. It was because he disturbed her so much that she'd been forced to pull away.

It had proved impossible to rescue the situation after that. He'd been so tense when they first went into the library that it had been a struggle to keep any kind of conversation going. She'd wanted to talk about his daughter, but it had been difficult to find an opening, and then, when she had, she'd ruined it all by accusing him of giving up.

She cringed now when she recalled his anger, and the sarcasm he'd used to such good effect. By the time he'd yanked her into his arms, she'd been so bemused, she was shaking, and she'd have believed anything of him before he touched her mouth.

Kate was brushing her lips with a wondering finger when the sound of a horn behind her alerted her to the fact that the lights had changed. She put the car into gear and let the clutch out too fast so that the engine stalled. She was anxiously revving the Vauxhall's engine when the pock-faced youth in the car behind accelerated past.

Kate wished for a moment she had a powerful car that she could compete with, and then, kangarooing across the junction, she chided herself again. She wasn't a youth, she reproved herself, she was a woman fast approaching middle age, with a pre-p.u.b.escent daughter to boot.

And allowing other road users to get up her back-literally-wasn't going to help her. She'd need a cool head if she was going to come out of the present situation with even an atom of self-respect. Because nothing could alter the fact that despite all her efforts to fight him off Alex had overcome her resistance. When Mrs Sheridan had walked in the door, Kate had been on the verge of kissing him back.

And he'd known it, d.a.m.n him. That was why he'd come chasing after her when she'd grabbed her jacket and hightailed it out of the door. Her only compensation was that she'd been too quick for him. She'd cut across the paddock to the stables, collected her car, and driven home.

Well-not immediately home, she amended as the stone gateposts that marked the entrance to Jamaica Hill hove into view. She'd had no desire to face her mother and daughter until she'd had time to recover from that sensual embrace, so she'd gone to the agency, sneaking into her office while Susie was out for lunch.

Of course she'd dreaded going to work the following morning, and she'd been so relieved to find Ted Lowes occupying Mr Guthrie's desk. That was when he'd explained that the boss had accompanied Mrs Sheridan to Doncaster races, and that he wouldn't be back in the office until the following week.

Today?

Kate turned in at the gates with an involuntary shiver. She'd know soon enough if the Range Rover was parked down at the stables. It was, and her stomach clenched in protest. Oh, G.o.d, she thought, why hadn't she turned down his invitation to lunch?

Well, she hadn't, and she had to live with it. At least, until she'd satisfied herself that she'd done all she could to locate Alicia Sawyer. Someone must know something. The woman couldn't just disappear off the face of the earth. Perhaps today would be the day she'd get another chance to tackle Billy Roach. Despite her hopes about Mrs Muir, she sensed the young apprentice was more likely to be indiscreet than the housekeeper.

She parked her car and got out, brushing down the seams of her black woollen trousers and checking that her hair was neat before locking the door. She'd secured it in a French pleat today and she thought it looked satisfyingly businesslike. She smoothed a couple of wisps behind her ears before setting off across the yard.

What could be so bad? she asked herself as two of the stable boys called a greeting. It was Kellerman who ought to be feeling ashamed of himself, not her. If he fired her, so what? She was hardly likely to take the case to an employees' tribunal. And Henry Sawyer could hardly complain if Alex threw her out.

This morning her office felt decidedly chilly. Unlike that other occasion, he hadn't bothered to turn on the fire in her room. With a tightening of her lips, she went across to attend to it, and then almost jumped out of her skin when Alex spoke behind her.

'Will you come into my office?' he asked, before she had time to bend down and flick the switch on the electric fire, and Kate schooled her nervous features before turning to face him. But she needn't have bothered. He'd already gone back into the other room, so her efforts to appear calm and composed were wasted. Still, she decided not to take off her furtrimmed parka. It didn't look as if she was going to be there long enough for that.

He was standing behind Mr Guthrie's desk when she entered the office, his back to her, staring out through the somewhat grimy windows into the yard. His hands were tucked beneath his arms and Kate's gaze moved almost greedily over his broad shoulders. He was standing with his feet slightly apart, the powerful muscles of his thighs clearly outlined beneath the tight-fitting fabric of his trousers. Dear G.o.d, she thought, why did he arouse such a feeling of unwanted excitement in her? He wasn't the first man who'd come on to her since Sean died, and it was pathetic that this man, of all the men she'd known, had the ability to turn her bones to water.

'Sit down,' he said now, without turning. 'I expect you're wondering what this is all about.'

'Well, yes.'

No!

She thought she knew exactly what he was going to say. She just wished he'd get on with it instead of dragging it out.

He expelled a breath. 'Well, first of all, I suppose I should apologise for the way I behaved last week.' He paused. 'I've got no excuse. What I did was unforgivable. I invited you into my house and then abused your confidence in the most despicable way.'

Kate hadn't intended to sit down, but now she sank weakly into the chair at her side of the desk.

She'd never imagined that he might be going to apologise, and the realisation of how quick she'd been to misjudge him filled her with remorse.

'Really, I-' she began awkwardly, but he wasn't finished.

'You probably think that's why I didn't come into the office for the rest of the week,' he continued, turning to face her, and although she was loath to meet his eyes her glancing look took in the stark contours of his face. 'Perhaps it was,' he added, his arms falling to his sides, his fingers finding diversion in the papers on the desk. 'Perhaps I was reluctant to admit the baseness of my actions even to myself. And it was easier to go away and put off this confrontation.'

'Mr Kellerman, please-'

'In my own defence, I have to say that I had good reasons for going to Doncaster. It's the last flat-racing cla.s.sic of the year.' His lips twisted. 'I could also make the excuse that you-provoked me. It isn't very flattering to hear that your staff think you've got no guts.'

'I never said that-'

'Whatever.' Once again, he interrupted her. 'I've got only myself to blame for the opinion you must have of me now. I was half prepared to hear you'd given in your notice. You've probably got a case for s.e.xual hara.s.sment, if you chose to take it that far.'

'I don't think so.' Kate shook her head rather bemusedly. She hesitated for a moment, and then went on, 'I'd rather forget it, if you don't mind.'

'So it didn't persuade you that I must be guilty of all the crimes I've been accused of?'

'No.'

'That's a relief.' His small smile was ironic. 'You must be the only woman in King's Montford who'd react that way.'

Kate lifted her shoulders. 'If-if you want me to leave-'

'I don't.'

His response was vehement, and she felt confident enough to stand again. 'Then I'll go and get on,' she said, moving round the chair and heading towards the door.

'Wait.' His hastily uttered summons arrested her, and she turned somewhat reluctantly to face him.

'Yes?'

'I've got a favour to ask,' he muttered, raking an impatient hand through his hair. 'I contacted my solicitor over the weekend, and he's arranged for me to have Rachel for the day.' He sucked in his breath. 'As I've only seen her a couple of times in the last two years, I want you to come with me to get her. Then, if her grandfather tries to pull any more stunts to stop me, it won't just be my word against his if he denies it later on.'

CHAPTER EIGHT.

WYVERNHALLwas an impressive sight. Its crenellated facade was more Victorian than Georgian, despite the fact that Alex had told her that parts of it dated back to the early nineteenth century. Nevertheless, Kate thought it was ugly, though that might have been because she was so apprehensive at being there.

She hadn't wanted to come. When he'd first made his request, she'd sought desperately for some means to avoid accompanying him to his father-in-law's house. Even though she knew that a good investigator would welcome any chance to learn more about her subject, she was reluctant.

She was always afraid that someone might recognise her, for one thing, and for another, did she really want to get to know his daughter?

But her prime reason for wanting to refuse was a more personal one. She was already far too involved with Alex Kellerman, and getting caught up in his private affairs was the very last thing she should be doing. She was supposed to be impartial, unbiased, not taking sides with him against a possibly innocent man. Conrad Wyatt only wanted to do what was right by his dead daughter. In his position, would she have behaved any differently?

'Pam's father wanted me to change my name to Wyatt,' Alex commented now as they reached the gravelled forecourt, and Kate acknowledged that all the misgivings in the world weren't going to do her any good. She was here; she'd agreed to do this favour; she was committed. She had to make the best of it for Rachel's sake, if nothing else.

'And you didn't want to do it,' she murmured now, and he gave her a sidelong look.