Moon Witch

‘Then—then he’s the chairman of the corporation,’ said Sara, swallowing hard, feeling slightly sick now. ‘Did he—did he say why he wanted to see me?’

‘The chairman,’ the headmaster was musing to himself reflectively. ‘What? Oh no, Sara, he didn’t say. But he seems very impatient, so I should hurry along if I were you. He’s waiting in my office, I’ll go and wait in the staff room.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Sara managed a faint smile, and then walked quickly along the corridor towards the headmaster’s office. As she neared the office, her footsteps slowed, and she wondered desperately what he could want her for. Reaching the door, she hesitated, and then tapped before entering. Jarrod Kyle was sitting on the edge of the headmaster’s desk, smoking a cigar, looking tall and lean and disturbingly male. In dark clothes, his tan complementing the uncanny fairness of his hair, he looked every inch the rich, powerful businessman he was. In deference to her femininity, he stood up at her entrance, while she hovered beside the door nervously.

‘Either come in or go out,’ he said shortly, and with a grimace she entered and closed the door. ‘That’s better.’ He studied her intently for a moment, noticing her pale cheeks, and the faint shadows round her eyes. ‘You don’t look at all well.’

Sara straightened her shoulders. ‘I’m perfectly all right, Mr. Kyle,’ she replied coolly.

‘Well, I’ll take your word for that, for the moment. Tell me, have you fixed yourself up with a job?’

‘I’m—I’m waiting for the results of my interview with the Matron of the Bridchester General,’ replied Sara carefully. ‘I’m very hopeful.’

‘I myself contacted the Matron this morning,’ he said, surprisingly. ‘You were accepted as a student nurse. I told her you would not be going.’

‘You did what!’ Sara stared at him in horror. ‘What do you mean by interfering in my affairs! Of course I shall be going! Oh, I shall have to get in touch with her at once——’

‘No, you won’t,’ he interrupted smoothly. ‘Because you will not be needing a job. You’re coming to live at Malthorpe—at least for the year which my father stipulated the other night!’

Sara raised her head with a little touch of pride. ‘Oh no, Mr. Kyle. Now you’re mistaken! I have no intention of coming to live at Malthorpe—not now, or at some future date!’

‘But you are,’ he responded, with equal firmness. ‘Now, don’t let’s waste any more time. I shall see your headmaster myself, and you can collect your things. You won’t be coming back here.’

‘Don’t try your boardroom tactics on me, Mr. Kyle, because they just won’t work!’ she exclaimed angrily.

‘Boardroom tactics!’ he said, half amused at her fervour. ‘Boardroom tactics! You haven’t the first idea what boardroom tactics may be!’

‘Well, maybe not,’ she said hotly. ‘But you can’t make me do anything!’

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his thick suede car coat. ‘Ah well, Miss Robins, there you are wrong,’ he said smoothly. ‘You’re forgetting! However unpleasant you may find the news, I am your guardian, and as such, I have absolute power over you. Unless, of course, you’d care to take me to court to prove otherwise. But somehow I don’t think you will. I could employ such a more satisfactory lawyer than you could!’

Sara couldn’t believe her ears. ‘But why? Why? Heavens, only a week ago you were suggesting I was trying to—well, you know what you said!’

‘I know. My opinion has changed very little. However’—he held up a hand as she would have protested—‘however, my father is insistent that you be allowed to come to Malthorpe, and he can be very persuasive.’

Sara’s eyes mirrored her disbelief. ‘Oh really,’ she exclaimed. ‘I can’t believe the hard, powerful Jarrod Kyle, chairman of Kyle Textiles, and Lord of the Universe, could be persuaded by his father!’ As soon as the words were spoken she was aghast at her own temerity, but instead of censure she saw a reluctant trace of admiration in his blue eyes.

Then, as suddenly, it was gone, and he said quietly: ‘My father has a heart condition; that’s why he retired as chairman in the first place. Last Friday he had another mild attack. I’m not prepared to risk his health for my own amusement. If he wants you so desperately, then he shall have you.’

Sara’s heart softened ever so slightly. ‘Does—does J.K. know you’re here?’

Jarrod gave her an exasperated look. ‘You must be joking! Of course he knows I’m here! Do you imagine I’m doing this to surprise him! Oh no! I’m well aware of his fallibilities. I’m almost certain his attack was contrived, but I’m not prepared to gamble on anything less than a certainty. Therefore, will you go and collect your things, Miss Robins?’

Sara hesitated. ‘And if I refuse?’

‘I’m pretty certain your heart is softer than mine,’ replied Jarrod, stubbing out his cigar lazily. ‘You couldn’t take that risk either, could you, Miss Robins?’ and Sara knew he was right.

CHAPTER THREE (#udbc3aef5-19c1-538c-9051-d033737104ef)

TODAY Jarrod was driving a dark green sports car, and Sara looked at it with some interest as she climbed inside. ‘A Ferrari,’ remarked Jarrod dryly, as though in answer to her unspoken question. ‘Very expensive! Would you like my father to buy you one?’

Sara tightened her lips, not deigning to reply, although his words were hurtful. She would not enter into a battle of wits with a man much more capable of choosing his weapons than she was. Besides, she was vulnerable; he was not.

The engine roared to powerful life, and he drove out of the school playground with some impatience, watched by a group of boys who had been playing football. Sara glanced back at the school rather regretfully, and Jarrod said bitingly: ‘Surely a school can’t arouse sentimentality!’

Sara’s fingers gripped the strap of the leather satchel on her lap. ‘Not to someone like you, perhaps,’ she replied quietly.

Mead Road was not busy at this hour of the morning, but Mrs. Mason was standing at her gate, talking to her next door neighbour, Mrs. Isherwood. Sara gave a small sigh when she saw them, and Jarrod said: ‘Now what’s wrong?’ He glanced her way, and then back at the two women by the gate. ‘Are you afraid of what they might say?’ His tone was mocking.

‘Oh, you wouldn’t understand!’ she cried hotly, as he brought the car to a snarling halt beside the two women.

‘Credit me with a little common sense,’ he said shortly, and pushed open his door and slid out. Leaving Sara to extricate herself, he walked across to Mrs. Mason, looking arrogant and assured. ‘Hello again,’ he said smoothly. ‘You may be relieved to know that Sara is leaving!’

‘Leaving?’ Mrs. Mason’s voice was shrill, and Sara’s heart sank to her shoes. ‘Do you mean—she’s going to live with you?’

Jarrod smiled lazily. ‘With my father, Mrs. Mason. I knew you would be glad to be rid of the responsibility.’

Mrs. Mason was speechless for a moment, and then as Mrs. Isherwood looked at her, daring her to protest, she said: ‘Well, I don’t know about that, Mr. Kyle.’

‘Why?’ Jarrod drew out his cigar case and extracted one, lighting it with deliberate slowness. ‘You’ve made it quite plain from the beginning, Mrs. Mason, that you could not keep the child longer than was necessary.’

‘I know, but—well, I——’

‘You didn’t think such a thing would materialise, did you, Mrs. Mason? I really believe you expected Sara to go to the Bridchester General without any further assistance from any of us, isn’t that right?’

Mrs. Mason’s face was red. ‘I didn’t think any such thing, and you’ve no right to say such things,’ she replied irritably, as Mrs. Isherwood folded her arms to enjoy this unexpected exchange.

‘Well, I’m glad about that,’ said Jarrod, glancing round to where Sara was standing nervously beside the car. ‘Go and pack your things, Sara. If you need any help——’

Sara shook her head, and approached them, passing Mrs. Mason as she entered the gate. Mrs. Mason looked at her piercingly. ‘So you’re leaving,’ she said tartly.

Sara nodded uncomfortably.

‘Hmn!’ Mrs. Mason said no more, and for the first time Sara was glad of Jarrod’s presence.