watching them curiously. Very pink, feeling very silly, she
gave up the unequal struggle and allowed him to help her
into the car. He climbed in and silently started the engine.
Purring smoothly, the car moved away up the road.
“I wanted to apologise to you,” he said quietly, staring at
the road ahead.
She looked sideways at him. The long, arrogant profile was
turned towards her, the droop of the eyelids hiding the
expression of the hard eyes.
Since she did not reply, he shot her another of his amused
looks, one eyebrow quirked. “You want your pound of flesh
before you will relent, I see. Well, that is your privilege. Miss
Caulfield. I unreservedly apologise. I was quite wrong in my
accusations. I am very sorry for any hurt or offence I caused
you or your brother.”
She was too dumbfounded to speak yet, and he turned his
head again, smiling at her. At the charm of that smile she
felt a peculiar leap of the heart.
“Why have you changed your mind?” she asked huskily.
“I had a long talk with Miss Carter, who explained to me
how much she had to do with my sister’s visits to your home,
and, by the way, reinforced your comments about Pallas,
although more politely, I must add.”
She flushed. “I ... I’m sorry I was so rude. I lost my
temper.”
“So I observed,” he said blandly. “But I am grateful to you
for your kindness to my sister. You were very perceptive. I
should have realised what was wrong myself. The trouble is,
my mother has been in delicate health for a long time, and I
have been too busy to take much notice of Pallas. But I had a