they had been kept from meeting.
Now the summons arrived and Debra braced herself for the confrontation. She knew from Nanny Rose that since the departure of Jack Salvador's regular secretary there had been two replacements, but neither of them had met with his mother's approval. Debra was warned that Lenora Salvador was a difficult and demanding woman and it might be to her advantage to appear meek and mild if Debra hoped to find acceptance.
'I'm not going to be intimidated by her,' Debra rejoined. 'I'm here to work as an editor not to be a doormat.'
Nanny Rose laughed and looked Debra up and down in her neat black skirt and pin- tucked shirt. 'I grant there's something a bit different about you from those others. A bit of class, I'd say. Madam's bound to notice, you mark my words.'
The solar was used as a sitting-room during the summertime, a boldly curving room with a range of wide windows and a barrelled ceiling. A table beside the hostess was attractively laid for tea.
'Do come and sit down, Miss Hartway.' Slanting dark-brown eyes appraised Debra as she crossed the room and sat down. 'You've met my daughter Zandra, have you not? Prob¬ably on the stairs as she's been coming and going? Zandra rarely walks if she can run, and rarely sits if she can pace about, preferably with a cigarette in her hand.'
Zandra was doing both those things as her mother spoke. She was tall, fashionably lean in culottes and a loose silk shirt, with dark shin¬ing hair that fell in a scroll to her shoulders, framing the sculptured planes of her face. Her eyes were like her mother's, with the slant to them that gave to their faces an individual look.
Those eyes flicked Debra up and down. 'So you're the latest in a line of adoring typists? Another female from a bedsitter who sits up half the night devouring my brother's chunky books—you'll be in for a real thrill when the video deal goes through, won't you? I guess you've heard that his best books are going to be filmed?'
'There was mention of it at Columbine,' Debra replied, her hands sedately folded in her lap as she met Zandra's rather insolent gaze. 'Your brother has a large following, Miss Salvador.'
'I'm not a Miss,' Zandra snapped. 'I'm di¬vorced.'
'I'm sorry,' Debra politely murmured.
'Don't be, he was a silly ass with a beard and I should have heeded Mama's warning that he was no good for me. It's a family failing, both Jack and I turned a deaf ear to Mama when it came to choosing our soul mates. Tell me, have you met the precious infant?'
'Yes.' Debra smiled. 'He's very charming, and very forward for his age, so his nanny informs me.'
'He takes after his mother,' Zandra drawled.
'That will be enough,' Lenora reproved her daughter. 'Do you take cream or lemon in your tea, Miss Hartway?'
'Cream would be nice, thank you.'
'You don't need to watch your figure, eh?' Zandra was giving Debra a rather narrow look through the smoke of her cigarette which was clamped into a holder so the nicotine wouldn't stain her fingers. 'You look younger than the other typists who came here after Miss Tucker took to her heels following a scrap with Mama, which, incidentally, Jack is going to be furious about because he got on well with the old duck.'
'I couldn't possibly allow her to stay.' Lenora handed Debra her cup of tea, which wafted its fragrant aroma from a bone-china cup in an equally fine saucer. 'She called me an old witch! She accused me of making that silly Pauline's life a misery, and I did nothing of the sort! It merely irritated me, having to endure her chatter and the cheap music the girl was addicted to. And her clothes—she simply had no style, no finesse! When Jack was thinking of in marrying her, I just do not know!'
'Mama, you're not that old,' Zandra said in a teasing tone of voice. 'She was curvy and blonde and she got under Jack's skin.'
'He didn't have to marry her,' Lenora held a plate of tiny triangular sandwiches so Debra could take one or two. 'When I think
Now the summons arrived and Debra braced herself for the confrontation. She knew from Nanny Rose that since the departure of Jack Salvador's regular secretary there had been two replacements, but neither of them had met with his mother's approval. Debra was warned that Lenora Salvador was a difficult and demanding woman and it might be to her advantage to appear meek and mild if Debra hoped to find acceptance.
'I'm not going to be intimidated by her,' Debra rejoined. 'I'm here to work as an editor not to be a doormat.'
Nanny Rose laughed and looked Debra up and down in her neat black skirt and pin- tucked shirt. 'I grant there's something a bit different about you from those others. A bit of class, I'd say. Madam's bound to notice, you mark my words.'
The solar was used as a sitting-room during the summertime, a boldly curving room with a range of wide windows and a barrelled ceiling. A table beside the hostess was attractively laid for tea.
'Do come and sit down, Miss Hartway.' Slanting dark-brown eyes appraised Debra as she crossed the room and sat down. 'You've met my daughter Zandra, have you not? Prob¬ably on the stairs as she's been coming and going? Zandra rarely walks if she can run, and rarely sits if she can pace about, preferably with a cigarette in her hand.'
Zandra was doing both those things as her mother spoke. She was tall, fashionably lean in culottes and a loose silk shirt, with dark shin¬ing hair that fell in a scroll to her shoulders, framing the sculptured planes of her face. Her eyes were like her mother's, with the slant to them that gave to their faces an individual look.
Those eyes flicked Debra up and down. 'So you're the latest in a line of adoring typists? Another female from a bedsitter who sits up half the night devouring my brother's chunky books—you'll be in for a real thrill when the video deal goes through, won't you? I guess you've heard that his best books are going to be filmed?'
'There was mention of it at Columbine,' Debra replied, her hands sedately folded in her lap as she met Zandra's rather insolent gaze. 'Your brother has a large following, Miss Salvador.'
'I'm not a Miss,' Zandra snapped. 'I'm di¬vorced.'
'I'm sorry,' Debra politely murmured.
'Don't be, he was a silly ass with a beard and I should have heeded Mama's warning that he was no good for me. It's a family failing, both Jack and I turned a deaf ear to Mama when it came to choosing our soul mates. Tell me, have you met the precious infant?'
'Yes.' Debra smiled. 'He's very charming, and very forward for his age, so his nanny informs me.'
'He takes after his mother,' Zandra drawled.
'That will be enough,' Lenora reproved her daughter. 'Do you take cream or lemon in your tea, Miss Hartway?'
'Cream would be nice, thank you.'
'You don't need to watch your figure, eh?' Zandra was giving Debra a rather narrow look through the smoke of her cigarette which was clamped into a holder so the nicotine wouldn't stain her fingers. 'You look younger than the other typists who came here after Miss Tucker took to her heels following a scrap with Mama, which, incidentally, Jack is going to be furious about because he got on well with the old duck.'
'I couldn't possibly allow her to stay.' Lenora handed Debra her cup of tea, which wafted its fragrant aroma from a bone-china cup in an equally fine saucer. 'She called me an old witch! She accused me of making that silly Pauline's life a misery, and I did nothing of the sort! It merely irritated me, having to endure her chatter and the cheap music the girl was addicted to. And her clothes—she simply had no style, no finesse! When Jack was thinking of in marrying her, I just do not know!'
'Mama, you're not that old,' Zandra said in a teasing tone of voice. 'She was curvy and blonde and she got under Jack's skin.'
'He didn't have to marry her,' Lenora held a plate of tiny triangular sandwiches so Debra could take one or two. 'When I think