Luke regarded her compassionately. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘So what am I to do? Look after the Dalrymples’ children until I’m an old maid?’
Luke half smiled. ‘You’ve a long way to go before that happens.’
‘Have I?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I really think it’s time we were going back,’ he said. ‘It must be the air here. I’m feeling decidedly hungry.’
And with that, Abby had to be content. As Luke rowed them back to the shore, she reflected that the morning had proved much more productive than the previous evening, in spite of its doubtful beginnings …
That evening, Abby had a telephone call from Scott Anderson.
Fortunately, Luke and her uncle were out at the time. Daniel McGregor was showing Luke over his church, St Cecilia’s, and Abby had been amusing herself setting out the chess pieces in the study when the phone rang.
Abby lifted the receiver tentatively. She was not wholly convinced that her aunt would not discover where Luke was and try to contact him here, and she had no desire to speak to her—yet. But it was Scott, and Abby sank down weakly into her uncle’s chair, cradling the receiver against her shoulder.
‘Now then, young Abby,’ Scott sounded amused. ‘What have you been getting up to?’
Abby shook her head, realised he couldn’t see her, and said: ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Don’t you?’ Even faraway, the disbelief in Scott’s voice was unmistakable. ‘Did you know I had Luke on the phone again this afternoon? What have you been saying to him?’
Abby straightened her spine. ‘What did he tell you?’
Scott laughed. ‘I’m asking the questions.’
‘Oh, come on, Scott. Why did he ring you?’ She paused. ‘Did he tell you he was coming back?’
‘N—o, I don’t think that was mentioned.’
Abby didn’t realise she had been holding her breath until at his words she felt the tension go out of her. ‘So?’
‘He thinks I sent him up there because you have some latent desire to go on the stage.’
‘And what did you say?’ Abby pressed her lips together.
Scott snorted. ‘What was I supposed to say? You didn’t tell me you were going to use those tactics.’
‘I’m only playing the cards as they’re dealt to me.’
‘Really?’ Scott sounded sceptical. ‘Don’t you think you’ve bitten off more than you can comfortably chew, Abby?’
‘No!’ She was vehement. Then: ‘You didn’t—you didn’t—–’
‘—let you down? No, I won’t do that, honey. But if I think this thing’s getting out of hand, I’ll get Luke back here so fast, you won’t feel the passing.’
Abby’s fingers tightened round the receiver. ‘Don’t be silly, Scott. What could get out of hand?’
‘Luke could!’ retorted Scott dryly. ‘Look, Abby, he’s not like your regular Scottish gentleman, nor is he like those boys you play around with in the village. They have respect for you—and for Dan. You can trust them. Don’t trust Luke Jordan.’
‘I’ve told you, Scott, I—I can handle it.’
‘Can you?’ He sounded less than convinced. ‘Well, I just thought I’d warn you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Huh? Don’t thank me. I’m not at all sure I did the right thing in letting you persuade me to send Luke up there.’
Abby’s teeth caught at the soft inner flesh of her lower lip. ‘I think you owed me a favour, Scott,’ she reminded him quietly, and heard his impatient exclamation.
‘Well, you take care, d’you hear?’ he told her severely, and she assured him she would before replacing the receiver.
When Luke and her uncle came back she learned that they planned to play chess together. Daniel McGregor was going to teach his guest the finer points of the game and her presence was superfluous. With a sense of impotence, she went up to her room, wondering how much longer she had before Luke decided to pack his case literally and return to London.
The following day was Saturday. It meant that Abby was free for two whole days and she wondered if it would be enough. She doubted it. She doubted it very much.
To her surprise, Luke was at the table when she went down for breakfast, and for an awful moment she thought he intended leaving that morning. But Uncle Daniel reassured her.
‘Mr Jordan has decided to stay on for a few more days, Abby,’ he told her. ‘He’s never seen anything of this part of the country, and I’ve persuaded him to do a little sightseeing while he’s here. I’ve suggested he ought to drive up to Keilaig, and Achnaluin Forest. Then there’s Loch Keil, and Lucifer’s Bowl, and the Kyle of Storfar. Any number of places he should visit. Don’t you agree?’
Abby could not bring herself to meet the old priest’s eyes. Why was he doing this? she asked herself in confusion. Did he suspect? No, he couldn’t, or knowing Uncle Daniel as she did, she knew he would never countenance her plans. And yet he had told her he knew that she had wanted to meet Luke Jordan, and he must also know how Ella would feel about that …
She risked a brief glance in Luke’s direction and was disconcerted to find him watching her. His eyes were thickly lashed and enigmatic, and she had no way of knowing what he was thinking.
‘Well, Abby?’
Uncle Daniel was waiting for her reply and she moved her shoulders in a careless, dismissing gesture. ‘It’s a good time of year for driving on these roads,’ she agreed offhandedly. ‘Before they become jammed with holiday traffic.’
‘I don’t believe your—niece—is too enthusiastic about my staying on,’ remarked Luke mildly, and Abby found herself glaring resentfully at him.
‘That’s not true,’ she protested, conscious of Uncle Daniel’s interest. ‘I—maybe you would like me to come with you. To be your—guide.’
Luke regarded her steadily for several seconds and then he inclined his head. ‘Why not?’
Ridiculously, a wave of panic swept over her. ‘It could only be over the weekend,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I have to go back to work on Monday.’
‘I’m sure Mr Jordan appreciates that you have a job of work to do, Abby,’ Daniel McGregor assured her quietly. ‘As for you acting as his guide, I venture to suggest that he might prefer to make his own way to our local beauty spots. They’re not difficult to find. And besides, didn’t you promise to help Mrs Jameson this morning?’
Mrs Jameson was the local police sergeant’s wife, as well as being a keen horsewoman. Abby had completely forgotten her promise to go up to the stables and help Mrs Jameson whitewash the stalls. Panic gave way to irritation at the realisation that she was committed. Without doubt, Uncle Daniel had taken this into consideration.
Luke, who had finished his breakfast, pushed back his chair. ‘Now that’s a shame,’ he observed wryly, and Abby looked infuriatedly up at him.
‘I could ring Mrs Jameson,’ she exclaimed. ‘Explain the situation …’
‘Oh, don’t do that on my account,’ Luke objected calmly. ‘Perhaps tomorrow, hmm?’
‘Mrs Tully will prepare you a picnic lunch, Luke,’ put in Daniel. ‘There are few eating places where you’re going.’
‘Thank you,’ Luke nodded. ‘I’ll have a word with her. See