the torch down on the ground and knelt beside her. Strong fingers began exploring the bones of each ankle in turn with surprising gentleness, and she could smell the tweedy, tobaccoey scent of the sleeve of his jacket as it brushed her cheek.
“ You ’ re right at that—this one ’ s badly swollen—what ’ s more you ’ re soaked to the skin. How long have you been wandering about in this pestilential fog, and where do you come from? ” he said, and there was a changed note in his voice. The first impatience was still there, but now there was a thread of concern to warm it.
“ Hours and hours, ” she answered, weeping freely at the first hint of comfort. “ And I ’ ve come from England. ”
“ What—today? Then for the sake of sanity what are you doing on the Plain of Clooney? ”
“ Is that where I am? I got out at a little station called Slyne, but no one met the train—and—and two hours seemed such—such a waste of time to sit on that dismal platform twiddling my thumbs. ”
“ Why on earth should you twiddle your thumbs for two hours? ”
“ Because the porter said maybe I was expected on the next train and—and I thought I would explore a bit to fill in the time. I—I ’ m new to Ireland, you see, and wasn ’ t to know that your Irish fogs would come down in a whoosh and catch me out, was I? ”
“ You wouldn ’ t, by the sound of you, seem to have much common sense at all, ” he answered rather rudely, she thought. “ However, since your foolishness appears to have landed you at my gates, I can hardly do less than offer you shelter, can I? Oh, for heaven ’ s sake, child, do stop crying! You ’ ve only the dogs to thank that you aren ’ t spending the night in the mountains. ”
“ I thought they were wolves—the dogs, I mean, ” she said, conscious that her head was now feeling too full of cotton wool to explain anything rationally, and was surprised when she felt his hand on her forehead for a moment. He thrust the torch into her hand.
“ Here, hang on to this and don ’ t drop it. I ’ d better carry you to the house and save that ankle. I ’ m beginning to think you must be a bit light-headed, ” he observed without enthusiasm, adding, as he stopped to lift her: “ Just in case of possible alarms when you don ’ t arrive at your destination on schedule, where were you bound for? ”
“ Castle Clooney, ” she answered, and he straightened up abruptly.
“ Castle Clooney? ” he repeated on a rather odd inflection. “ Were you expected? ”
“ Naturally. I was invited for a visit. It was a—a sort of proposal, really. ”
“ Was it, indeed? ” There was a very odd note in his voice now, the same note which had been there when he had accused her of trying to break into his grounds, and she made a last, determined effort to assert her rights.
“ Yes, it was, ” she said, eyeing him coldly. “ And if you live in these parts you must surely have heard of Castle Clooney and its owner, Mr. Lonnegan? He ’ s quite a figure hereabouts, I understand. ” That, she thought, should put him in his place.
“ Oh, yes, I ’ ve heard of them both, ” he said at last, and strangely enough, there was now a queer little thread of amusement in his voice. “ But shouldn ’ t I, if what you say is true, have heard some mention of your name? This is a sparsely populated stretch of country and we all know each other ’ s business. ”
“ My name is Harriet Jones, and I came into a little money which made this visit possible, so perhaps your grapevine is a bit behind with the news, since it all happened rather suddenly, ” Harriet said, trying to sound haughty and gracious at the same time.
“ I see. Well, Miss—er—Jones, it would seem to be advisable to get you dried out and more presentable before your prospective fiancé comes to claim you, ” he said, and picked her up in one easy swoop and began carrying her towards the lighted windows of his house.
She
“ You ’ re right at that—this one ’ s badly swollen—what ’ s more you ’ re soaked to the skin. How long have you been wandering about in this pestilential fog, and where do you come from? ” he said, and there was a changed note in his voice. The first impatience was still there, but now there was a thread of concern to warm it.
“ Hours and hours, ” she answered, weeping freely at the first hint of comfort. “ And I ’ ve come from England. ”
“ What—today? Then for the sake of sanity what are you doing on the Plain of Clooney? ”
“ Is that where I am? I got out at a little station called Slyne, but no one met the train—and—and two hours seemed such—such a waste of time to sit on that dismal platform twiddling my thumbs. ”
“ Why on earth should you twiddle your thumbs for two hours? ”
“ Because the porter said maybe I was expected on the next train and—and I thought I would explore a bit to fill in the time. I—I ’ m new to Ireland, you see, and wasn ’ t to know that your Irish fogs would come down in a whoosh and catch me out, was I? ”
“ You wouldn ’ t, by the sound of you, seem to have much common sense at all, ” he answered rather rudely, she thought. “ However, since your foolishness appears to have landed you at my gates, I can hardly do less than offer you shelter, can I? Oh, for heaven ’ s sake, child, do stop crying! You ’ ve only the dogs to thank that you aren ’ t spending the night in the mountains. ”
“ I thought they were wolves—the dogs, I mean, ” she said, conscious that her head was now feeling too full of cotton wool to explain anything rationally, and was surprised when she felt his hand on her forehead for a moment. He thrust the torch into her hand.
“ Here, hang on to this and don ’ t drop it. I ’ d better carry you to the house and save that ankle. I ’ m beginning to think you must be a bit light-headed, ” he observed without enthusiasm, adding, as he stopped to lift her: “ Just in case of possible alarms when you don ’ t arrive at your destination on schedule, where were you bound for? ”
“ Castle Clooney, ” she answered, and he straightened up abruptly.
“ Castle Clooney? ” he repeated on a rather odd inflection. “ Were you expected? ”
“ Naturally. I was invited for a visit. It was a—a sort of proposal, really. ”
“ Was it, indeed? ” There was a very odd note in his voice now, the same note which had been there when he had accused her of trying to break into his grounds, and she made a last, determined effort to assert her rights.
“ Yes, it was, ” she said, eyeing him coldly. “ And if you live in these parts you must surely have heard of Castle Clooney and its owner, Mr. Lonnegan? He ’ s quite a figure hereabouts, I understand. ” That, she thought, should put him in his place.
“ Oh, yes, I ’ ve heard of them both, ” he said at last, and strangely enough, there was now a queer little thread of amusement in his voice. “ But shouldn ’ t I, if what you say is true, have heard some mention of your name? This is a sparsely populated stretch of country and we all know each other ’ s business. ”
“ My name is Harriet Jones, and I came into a little money which made this visit possible, so perhaps your grapevine is a bit behind with the news, since it all happened rather suddenly, ” Harriet said, trying to sound haughty and gracious at the same time.
“ I see. Well, Miss—er—Jones, it would seem to be advisable to get you dried out and more presentable before your prospective fiancé comes to claim you, ” he said, and picked her up in one easy swoop and began carrying her towards the lighted windows of his house.
She
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