'I could make the meals you make. Anyone could!'

Once again Joanna kept her temper with difficulty. 'As you probably are aware, I intended to make a proper meal for all of us last night,'

she said pleasantly, 'only a certain person who shall be nameless gave me faulty directions to the village in the hope that I'd fall into the stream!'

Anya's thin face flushed. 'I didn't hope that at all,' she denied hotly.

'There is a path to the village alongside the stream -'

'-which you knew was flooded!' Joanna declared steadily.

'Look, I don't intend to get involved in arguments over the whys and wherefores of what might have happened. Fortunately, Matt had warned me of the dangers -'

'You let me think you didn't know the way,' Anya protested indignantly. 'You tricked me!'

'And isn't that exactly what you were trying to do to me?'

Anya bent her head. 'I came back. I looked for you. But you'd disappeared.'

'Well, I'm sorry.' Joanna had not known this. 'But if you will persist in lighting fireworks, you have to be prepared for them to backfire.'

Anya hesitated. 'You went to Trevors', didn't you?

Daddy told me. He said you'd been there all the time. Why did you go there? Do you know them? Did you intend to go there all along?'

'Heavens, no.' Patiently, Joanna explained how she had climbed up through the wet gra.s.s and met Paul Trevor, and why he had suggested she came home with him. She glossed over Jake's arrival, and their subsequent journey back to Ravengarth, and merely let the child know the facts of what happened.

Anya hunched her shoulders, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans. 'Daddy was furious,' she declared, though not with any pleasure at the recollection. 'He said you might have drowned. You wouldn't have drowned, would you, Miss Seton?'

She paused as if to give more emphasis to her last statement.

'Witches always float-I read it in a book.'

Joanna shook her head, regarding Anya with mild exasperation.

'Now don't pretend you think I'm a witch,' she stated firmly.

'You're far too intelligent to believe a thing like that, and if I were, do you think I'd be here, washing floors and cooking meals? I'd just wave my magic wand and get some genie to do it for me, wouldn't I? So let's stop this silliness and get down to plain speaking. Do you want any breakfast or don't you? And where does your father keep your textbooks?'

Anya tipped her head on one side. 'Do you really think I'm intelligent?' she exclaimed, and Joanna realised that of all the things she had said, that had had the most impact.

'Of course I do,' she said now, setting a clean plate and cup and saucer on the table. 'Now, would you like some ham and eggs, or poached egg on toast, or just toast and marmalade?'

Anya was still regarding her doubtfully. 'The others- the other governesses I had, they all said I was backward,' she declared slowly. 'One of them even said I was men- mentally retracted.'

'r.e.t.a.r.ded,' Joanna corrected flatly, and she shook her head.

'Well, you're not, take my word for it. But if your school work is poor, that can only be remedied by your own efforts, no one else's.'

Anya pulled a face. 'I don't like school. At least, not the schools here. And they didn't like me.'

Joanna shrugged. 'If you make a nuisance of yourself...'

'I didn't. Not all the time, anyway. They just make me so mad!'

Joanna knew she was treading on tentative ground now. 'Did they?'

she asked quietly. 'Why?'

But Anya wasn't listening to her. 'It was different before, in London.

I liked school then. Daddy used to drive me to school every morning, on his way to work -'

She broke off suddenly as if remembering to whom she was speaking, and Joanna, eager not to destroy that tenuous beginning, quickly asked her what she would like to eat again, thus preventing any backlash.

She decided to have poached egg on toast, and was swallowing the last morsels when her father came in at the back door. The morning had turned to rain, and the steady drizzle had left droplets of water gleaming on his dark hair, dampening the shoulders of the brown tweed hacking jacket he was wearing.

Joanna, used now to those dark scarred features, found his appearance disturbing, and she turned back to the dishes she had been washing in the sink, hoping he did not suspect the emotion he aroused in her. It was crazy, she thought irritably, scouring a saucepan more vigorously than it demanded. He was a man almost twenty years her senior, with a grown-up son to boot, she reminded herself severely, recognising the symptoms of physical attraction and resenting them. She was allowing the unavoidable intimacies of the situation to influence her reaction to him, and the sooner he employed another housekeeper, the better. Then she could take her proper place in the household, and direction all her attentions to the task for which she had come here.

Now, Jake's eyes narrowed as they took in the domestic scene before him, and his first words helped Joanna to dispel the sense of awareness she was experiencing.

'I thought I asked you not to interfere in matters which don't concern you, Miss Seton,' he declared, closing the outer door and advancing into the room. He cast his daughter a reproving look and then added: 'Anya is quite capable of preparing her own breakfast, and while I appreciate your looking after yourself for the moment, I would prefer it if you didn't behave as if I'd hired you as a home help.'

Joanna turned, wiping her soapy hands on a towel and then resting back against the sink behind her. 'Why shouldn't I help, Mr Sheldon,' she asked, refusing to give him the pleasure of provoking her. 'I'm not entirely useless, as you can see, and if I'm not complaining, why should you?'

'I don't want you writing home to your mother, telling her that I've turned you into some kind of drudge,' he snapped. 'My sister already imagines we live like peasants: imagine her satisfaction if your mother confirms that supposition !'

Joanna gasped. 'You don't suppose I'd complain about doing something I chose to do, do you?' she exclaimed. 'And in any case, if I were to explain the situation here, my mother would probably insist I returned home right away!'

His mouth twisted. 'That's the truth!'

Joanna sighed. 'Is it? I don't think you quite understand -'

'Oh, I understand very well. If you described the state of this place to your mother, I've no doubt she would be horrified -'

'I'm not talking about the state of this place!' Joanna interrupted him, unable to keep the note of exasperation out of her voice. 'But you are a widower, Mr Sheldon, and therefore unmarried, and it might seem-improper to my mother that we should be sharing the same house.'

The blood running up under his skin darkened the already swarthy cast of his features as he stared at her. It was the first time she had seen a man colour like that, and it disturbed her almost as much as his words did.

'You're young enough to be my daughter, Miss Seton,' he got out at last, harshly, pushing impatient fingers through his hair.

'And despite my obvious shortcomings, I'm not a complete Philistine!

Your-virtue, if that isn't too old-fashioned a word, is safe with me!'

Joanna's face burned now, and she was glad when Anya, who had watched this interchange with evident interest, asked: 'What's a Philistine, Daddy?'

'It's not important,' he muttered, glancing broodingly about the kitchen, as if just noticing how much cleaner it looked. 'I've got to go into Penrith this morning, and before I go, I want your a.s.surance that you'll not give Miss Seton any more trouble.'

Anya swallowed the remains of the orange juice Joanna had given her to finish, and wiped her mouth with her hand. 'Can't I come with you?' she demanded in a plaintive voice, but he shook his head.

'I've got to try and find another housekeeper,' he explained, his tone softening slightly. 'I should be back by tea time. But if I'm not, try and behave yourself. I don't want to have to punish you a third time, do you understand?'

'Yes, Daddy.' Anya hunched her shoulders defensively, and Joanna hoped she intended to keep her promise.

'Would you like some coffee before you go?' she asked Jake now, hoping to delay the moment when she and Anya would have to come to terms with one another, but he shook his head.

'I'd better get started,' he replied, his eyes avoiding hers after that unsettling personal exchange. 'However, I want to see Matt before I go, so if there's anything you'd like me to get for you, please make a list.' He paused. 'You might start the lessons today, if you have the time.' His tone was sardonic. 'That was something I intended to discuss with you last night.'

'There is something I have to ask you,' Joanna ventured, casting a doubtful look in Anya's direction, and he faced her reluctantly, the tawny eyes veiled by tie long lashes that were the only incongruous aspect of that harsh visage. 'Where do you keep Anya's school books? The textbooks she uses? Only I'd like to find out how advanced she is in English and arithmetic before we begin any formal lessons.'

'They're in my desk, in the library,' he replied, turning away as soon as he decently could. 'You can find them for yourself.

There's nothing private in there. You can even use the library to work in, if you like. That's up to you.'

'Thank you,' Joanna nodded, and with evident relief, he turned towards the door once' more. 'Oh -' She remembered one last thing, and he turned half impatiently. 'Yes?'

'It's milk,' Joanna explained. 'I mean, you obviously don't get a regular delivery -'

'We have a cow!' It was Anya's scornful young voice that answered her. 'Matt looks after her. Her name's Gertrude. He fetches the milk for us. You just tell him what you need, and the rest he uses himself or sells to Mr Page at the pub.'

'That will do, Anya.' Jake gave her a silencing look, and she relapsed into brooding melancholy. 'But it's true, we do provide our own milk and eggs, and it was my intention to buy a deep-freeze and store our own meat and vegetables, too.' He paused. 'Perhaps I will now. Mrs Harris always refused to have anything to do with frozen food.'

Joanna didn't say anything, but she guessed the late housekeeper would have maintained it was too much trouble.

Mrs Harris probably found it much easier, shopping in the supermarket in Penrith, buying ready-cooked foods that required the minimum amount of preparation.

'Is that all?' Jake was opening the door as he spoke. 'As I said, write down anything you want and leave die list in here.'

Joanna nodded. 'Drive carefully,' she said, almost as an afterthought, and glimpsed the sudden hardening of his features as he closed the door behind him. It wasn't until later that she realised exactly what he must have been thinking.

CHAPTER SIX.

DESPITE the miserable weather, Joanna refused to feel downhearted.

She had Anya's company, at least, and while that might be a dubious blessing, she was determined not to let the little progress they had made slip away. It wasn't going to be easy, always knowing how best to approach the child, but she intended to take each minute as it came, and deal with the problems accordingly.

With Jake's departure, she ventured into the library, and was rea.s.sured when Anya followed her. But one look at the untidy apartment convinced her that they could not work in such surroundings, and with a little gesture of resignation she said: 'How are you at dusting, Anya? Could we use this morning as a lesson in housekeeping and do something to make this room more cheerful?'

Not really to her surprise, Anya was quite amenable, but what did surprise her was the girl's capacity for work when it suited her.

Instead of being the hindrance Joanna had half expected, Anya toiled as hard as she did, shifting books off the shelves and dusting them vigorously, fetching and carrying, and showing none of the animosity Joanna had previously experienced.

It was impossible to make the room elegant, the shabby carpets and furnishings defied such a description, but with a fire burning in the grate, fed by the load of logs Matt provided at their request, and everywhere swept and dusted, it had a homely charm. The old man even found an armful of chrysanthemums from somewhere, and Anya arranged them in a pottery vase, and with Jake's paintings neatly stacked in one corner and the desk free of all litter, they all felt reasonably pleased with their efforts.

They had spaghetti bolognaise for lunch. Joanna had bought the spaghetti the day before, and with a savoury sauce she concocted from a tin of meat, a tin of tomatoes, some cheese and onion, and some herbs, it smelled delicious. Matt sniffed the air appreciatively when he came to fetch the milk Joanna had asked for, and on impulse she invited him to join them. They all sat around the newly-scrubbed table in the kitchen, and even Anya chatted away to the old man without any restraint at Joanna's presence.

'I remember Daddy once taking me to an Italian restaurant,'

she confided, concentrating on curling the spaghetti round her fork. 'He had spaghetti whatever-it-is, but I had pizza. I wish I'd had this now.'

'It's amazing what you can do with tins,' remarked Joanna drily, unable to resist the mild taunt, and Anya actually grinned.

Her pointed features had a piquant charm when she relaxed, and Joanna found herself responding.

'You going to cook that chicken I gave you for supper tonight?' Matt asked, when she got up to clear the table and she turned back to him nodding.

'I though I might make a ca.s.serole,' she said. 'It's the sort of meal than can be kept hot for a long time, just in case Mr Sheldon doesn't get back as soon as he expected.'

'Daddy said you hadn't to make our meals,' Anya put in without malice, and Joanna sighed.

'Someone has to,' she declared reasonably. 'What would you have had for lunch if I hadn't prepared it?'

Anya shrugged. 'Jam and bread, I s'pose,' she admitted, rubbing the side of her nose-a definite improvement on sniffing, Joanna felt. 'I don't mind what you do. But Daddy said -'

'Yes, I know what your father said,' Joanna retorted with a sigh, and then realised Matt was speaking again.

'Like I was saying,' he added, 'that there chicken I brought you.

She's-well, she'll be a tough old bird.' He paused, looked slightly embarra.s.sed, and then went on: 'It was different when it was Lily Harris I was dealing with. She used to overcook everything. Like as not, she'd have boiled old Gloria. But if you want a bird to roast- well, I reckon I could find you a tender young chicken, sweet as a nut, with a nice bit of flesh on its bones.'

Joanna laughed; she couldn't help it. Matt looked so hot under the collar, and it was gratifying to know that he at least had come to accept her.

'Don't worry,' she a.s.sured him gently, patting his shoulder as she pa.s.sed. 'I'll cook it nice and slowly, and I know a few tricks for tenderising all kinds of meat and poultry. But thanks for the offer. I appreciate it.'

'You're not as helpless as you look, are you, Miss Joanna?' he said admiringly, levering himself up from his chair with difficulty, and she pretended to be put out.

'That's a backhanded compliment,' she protested, a.s.suming an air of indignation, but the look they exchanged was one of understanding as he moved away from the table.

'Said you were a pretty la.s.sie, the first time I laid eyes on you,'

he declared, arching his spine with evident reluctance. 'And a stubborn one too, I'l warrant.' He grimaced. 'Got my muscles fair groaning, you have, with all that digging yesterday. You watch out, young Anya. She's not the type to give up at the first obstacle, not like those other women.'

Joanna sighed, wishing he would keep those sort of comments to himself, but apart from pressing her lips a little more thinly together Anya did nothing.

'We'll see you later, Matt,' Joanna added, as he let himself out, and breathed an unconscious sigh of relief once she and Anya were alone.

The fire in the library had spread its warmth throughout the room, and the musty smell Joanna had first noticed had almost gone. In its place was the pervading perfume of the chrysanthemums, and the not unpleasant aroma of woodsmoke.

She found Anya's textbooks in the bottom drawer of Jake's desk.