A Convenient Wedding

‘The idea was that you should stop,’ he yelled back against the wind.

‘I tried to. It’s an unfamiliar car. I only hired it this morning.’

‘And you didn’t check the damned brakes.’

‘I did check the brakes. They worked perfectly at the airport.’

‘Then I guess the firm saw you coming.’

She breathed hard. ‘I’ll pass over your rudeness, but I do want to know why you just stood in my path when you must have seen I was having trouble stopping. Why didn’t you get out of the way?’

‘That’s what the world usually does for you, is it? I didn’t move because then you might have driven on, and the road’s under water. I may consider you a total idiot for driving out here in that thing you jokingly call a car, and not dressing properly for these parts, but I don’t want you to drown because I didn’t warn you. Where are you going anyway?’

‘Is that any of your concern?’ she demanded, fighting the crick in her neck. It was infuriating to have to argue with a man so much taller than herself. Meryl could look most men in the eye, but she had to peer right up as this man loomed over her. He was built for looming, too, powerful about the shoulders, with a harsh face and eyes that flashed disagreeably over a slightly hooked nose. He would have been impressive at any time, but from this angle it was like arguing with an enraged bull.

‘It’s my concern if you drive into the sea,’ he snapped. ‘That road doesn’t lead anywhere.’

‘According to the map it leads to Larne Castle.’

‘Well, you can’t go there, so—’

‘Who says I can’t?’

He made a tearing movement at his hair which the rain was plastering to his skull. ‘It’s not open to tourists,’ he yelled over the storm.

‘I am not a tourist!’

‘Then why are you turning up out of the blue?’

‘Who says I’m out of the blue?’

‘I know this—nobody is expecting you.’

‘Oh, yes, they are—well, in a sort of way—maybe not today exactly—hell! Why am I telling you? I am going to Larne Castle.’

‘How? Swim?’

‘Over the bridge.’

The grinding of his teeth was audible even above the storm. ‘Will you listen to me? There is no—’

‘I’ll show you. The map’s just over here in my—why are there two Alsatians sitting in my car?’

‘Out!’ the man yelled and the two vast animals obediently jumped out.

‘That’s it!’ Meryl seethed. ‘I’m getting out of here before I start seeing things—if I’m not seeing them already.’

‘Fine. Turn back.’

‘Don’t give me orders. I’m continuing my journey, and if you stand in front of me again I shall drive over you.’

She thought she heard him mutter, ‘On your own head be it,’ but she couldn’t be certain because she was already speeding on her way.

CHAPTER TWO

MERYL put her foot down. This was one journey she wanted to get finished, fast.

The man had seemed strangely familiar with the castle and its concerns, and it briefly crossed her mind that he might be Lord Larne himself, but she dismissed the thought. That ill-tempered curmudgeon had never written the letter that had charmed her. Probably a family retainer.

She could see where she was going now, the shore lights, and far beyond them the lights of some huge building that must surely be Larne Castle. Straight ahead for the bridge. She squinted, trying to detect the start of the railings. With her attention thus occupied she didn’t realise how far she’d driven until she found herself surrounded by water.

‘I’m in the sea,’ she said, aghast. ‘Where’s the bridge?’

But there was no bridge, only a causeway, fast vanishing under the incoming tide. With horror she saw that the shore was fifty yards behind her. The waves were swelling strongly, and a sickening lurch warned her that her little car wasn’t built for this.

She couldn’t go back. It would have meant trying to turn the vehicle and she didn’t know if the causeway was wide enough. Besides, retreat wasn’t in her nature. She must get ahead as fast as possible. The water had covered the road by only a few inches, and she could just about discern it.

But it grew harder and harder to hold her course. She slammed her foot down, trying to force her way through, but the next moment a huge wave lifted her off the ground, sweeping her sideways, and suddenly she was right off the causeway and sinking.

She tore at her seat belt and just managed to get it open as the car went down. Then she was free, dog paddling like crazy, with no idea where she was.

‘Here! Over here!’

The voice came from behind her, and she struggled around to see the man who’d stopped her back on the road. He was waving the torch to attract her attention.

‘It’s not too deep,’ he yelled. ‘You should be able to touch down, a beanpole like you.’

She managed to feel the ground with the tips of her toes, but then another wave tore at her, pulling her out to deeper water. She went down, struggling madly, came up gasping and tried to cry out. But water filled her mouth as she went down again. The man had vanished from the causeway. Rage filled her. He’d left her to drown.

‘Where are you?’ His voice came from nearby.

‘Here!’ she screamed as the current yanked her further out to sea.

But then—oh, the relief as something that felt like a steel hawser went around her waist, holding her steady against the worst the water could do!

‘It’s all right. I’ve got you,’ said a voice she recognised.

Now she could make out details of him. Before diving in he’d yanked off his heavy overcoat and sweater. Through the thin, sodden shirt she could feel shoulders like cliffs, the swell of taut muscles beneath her hands, the hardness of a heavy torso against her body.

‘Just keep hold of me,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not releasing you until we’re on land.’

‘Suits me,’ she gasped.

‘But if you’d listened to me in the first place—’

‘Must we talk about that now?’

‘No,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Later will be better, and I have plenty to say.’