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'I can’t decide in five minutes,’ she protested. ‘You've taken me completely by surprise.’

‘Have I?’ He looked astonished. 'I don t generally waste a lot of time on a girl unless I have . . . intentions.’

So that had been the underlying motive for the swimming lessons, which she had put down to good nature. Used to feminine adulation, he would consider so many hours in his company would have made him irresistible, and she was ripe for an amorous proposition. That she would have understood and would have repulsed him firmly, but he had offered . . , marriage. He was right when he had pointed out that she had no future, unless she married. Domestic work was not exactly a career, and it would give her great satisfaction to ensure that the news filtered through to Tony that she had made a good match. But a loveless marriage whatever the material advantages was not ideal, and Gray had only obliquely mentioned love and that derisively, he did not seem to regard it as a necessary or important ingredient. He had decided he wanted a wife, and had chosen her because she had an even temperament, would make a good housekeeper and would be an undemanding mate.

Her own feelings towards him were mixed. Physically he attracted her strongly, but she had fought against it, not wishing to be one of a crowd. He had shown that he could arouse in her a passionate emotion which bore no resemblance to the tepid feeling she had had for Tony. It might be love or merely infatuation with a being so unlike anybody she had ever met before. She was vaguely aware that if he had loved her, he could awake in her a wholehearted response, but he had made it very clear that he did not. He found her sufficiently desirable to be ready to sleep with her, and looked upon her as a sort of insurance against predatory females, and a pleasant companion to whom to return when he needed home comforts and relaxation. His absorbing interest was Silver Arrow and her success, next came the family business and she ran a poor third. Was it enough?

'I'll think about it while you’re, away,’ she conceded. ‘You may change your mind when you get to the States and everyone lionises you.’

‘I can’t wait,’ he returned shortly. 'If I get a special licence there’ll be just time to get married before I go.’

‘Oh no!' This precipitancy startled and appalled her. But it was typical of the man who could never wait for anything he desired. ‘That’s much too soon!’

‘What is there to wait for?’ Gray looked away over the sparkling water. 'I might not come back.’

In the ensuing silence, a cloud passed across the sun, causing the bright scene to dim. Overhead a herring gull, planing on wide extended wings,
uttered a melancholy croak. Frances shivered, drawing her cardigan more closely about her. Gray had always minimised the danger his sport entailed, but it existed. Anything that went at the speed of Silver Arrow presented considerable hazards. It was impossible to imagine that anyone so vital and virile as Gray could be extinguished, but it might happen.

‘Don’t go!’ she cried impulsively.

‘You're being ridiculous—of course I must go,’ he reprimanded her. 'I've set my heart on Silver Arrow’s triumph and I couldn’t let Stu down. If the worst happens you’ll be provided for as my widow.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘Others may claim to be ex-fiancées, but no one can dispute a marriage certificate.’

His thought for her touched her, though the implication shocked and chilled her.

‘As if that mattered ’ she began, and he interrupted her:

‘It does matter. That’s why we must be married before I go. I’ll will everything to you, you’ll acquire my holding in Crawfords—I’m the biggest shareholder—and it’s up to you to keep the business going and prevent Sandy and Alison trying to sell. You’ll do that for me?’

‘Gray, for God’s sake don’t talk like that,’ Frances exclaimed desperately. ‘You’ll be all right, you must be all right. And I haven’t said I’ll marry you.’

‘But you will,’ he insisted softly.

‘I don’t know ... I can’t decide . . .’

He leaned forward, staring at her intently. ‘There isn’t anyone else, is there?’ he asked sharply, and his eyes glittered menacingly. ‘You’ve not fallen for that
besotted calf, Ian?'

He might not love her, but he could be jealous, and he had always resented her supposed fancy for his assistant.

'He isn’t a besotted calf,’ she declared indignantly.

‘He appears so when he looks at you, and he is nearer your age.' His face contorted savagely: 'By God, I'll sack the pair of you!’

‘Which would be ungenerous and unfair.’

His face changed. ‘I suppose it would,' he admitted.

‘There’s no need for all this drama,' Frances said quietly. 'I can’t help it if Ian fancies me, but as I’ve told you before, I’ve only friendship to give him.’ She smiled shyly. ‘He can’t compare with you.'

Her clouded blue eyes met his gaze unflinchingly, and he laughed.

‘I’m glad you’ve that much discernment. Then if there isn't anyone else, why the hesitation?' She turned her head away, and he went on persuasively: ‘I'll be easier in my mind if I know your future is provided for. I hate to think of you wasting your youth waiting upon querulous old women, and freedom from worry is important to a racing driver. You wouldn’t want to add to the risk
_:
would you?’

She did not flatter herself that he would give her any thought once he had left the country and got among his racing clique, and she rather suspected that his concern for her was coloured by his desire to get his own way. Gray was ruthless in the face of opposition, and the role of benevolent father figure did not suit him, but his present anxiety might be genuine. She said insinuatingly:

^£
Do you really care what becomes of me?’

‘Oh, for God’s sake!' he exclaimed impatiently, ‘haven’t I made that clear?’ A cunning gleam came into his eyes. ‘Perhaps you’d prefer I fall a victim to Samantha’s wiles?’

Frances did not think that a wife in England would be much of a deterrent to Samantha Lambert’s advances if she were set upon capturing Gray, but at least he could not marry her. Perhaps that was at the back of his mind, for he knew Stuart Lambert would welcome him as a son-in-law, and he had already expressed his opinion of Sam. If pressure was brought to bear upon him, a wife at home would be a defence, though she could not imagine Gray allowing himself to be pushed into any situation against his will.

But the mention of Sam had a peculiar effect upon her, as possibly Gray had known it would. She had heartily disliked the American girl with her possessive attitude towards him, and to marry Gray would be to triumph over her. She had nothing to lose and a great deal to gain by yielding to him, so why quibble about the quality of his feelings? And love might come. She knew from that episode by the mere that they did, in modern parlance, turn each other on, which was something to build upon, if only it did not prove to be ephemeral. Nothing venture, nothing have, she told herself, and she said bravely: .

‘Very well, Gray, I’ll marry you, and as soon as you please.’

She half expected a physical demonstration, but it
was not easy to embrace in a rowboat without danger of overturning it, and all he said was, ‘Sensible girl,’ so that she had the feeling that he had never been in doubt of her acceptance. She felt a momentary surge of indignation against his arrogant self-confidence, and suggested coolly:

‘As it’s more or less a marriage of convenience, you’re not proposing to . . . er . . . consummate it before you go?’

She had spoken out of pique, and was unprepared for the expression with which Gray greeted her words. She had never seen naked desire on a man’s face before, but she saw it then, and her heart turned over, but he masked it immediately.

‘Where do you get these adolescent ideas from, Fran?’ he asked with a hint of steel behind the soft drawl. ‘Ever since that first night we met, I’ve wanted to kiss you . . . properly. Do you expect me to deny myself when we may never meet again?’ Disturbed, she made no rejoinder, but turned aside to again trail her hand in the water. Dimly she realised that he knew the risk he was about to run, and was eagerly snatching at every sensation, every pleasure in case . . . Because of that she could not deny him. He watched her pensive face moodily for some moments, then roused himself.

‘Now where’s that dratted dog?’ He whistled.

It was some moments before Caesar appeared, and they sat in silence, each busy with their thoughts. Gray’s gaze had gone to the distant mountain crests, and Frances studied his face, wondering to what she had committed herself. He was still almost a stranger to her and there were depths in him at which she could only guess. With her eyes upon the firm lines of his mouth, she decided he could, if provoked, be cruel as well as kind, and she hoped she would never encounter that side of his nature. At that moment he seemed to have gone away from her, and she surmised that his thoughts had fled to Silver Arrow. There was her real rival, a thing of steel and fibreglass, as opposed to flesh and blood. Absurd on the face of it, but only too true.

The sky became overcast and the waters of the loch heaved with warning of a storm to come. Gray whistled again, and at last Caesar appeared, galloping along the shore. He wagged an apologetic tail, as Gray heaved him aboard, and sat down with his head upon Frances’ knees.

‘We'll have him to live with us,’ Gray decided, beginning to scull. ‘You wouldn’t mind?’

‘No, I’d love to have him, but he takes up a lot of room.’ She stroked the massive head. ‘Unless he was kept outside.’

‘No. A dog is a companion, not to be shut up like a wild animal. We’ll accommodate him. We’ll start house-hunting when I come back.'

Frances found these remarks reassuring, they gave substance to what had seemed a wild dream, but until Gray returned she would have to live somewhere, and she asked:

‘Gray, need we tell the Fergusons? I’ll have to go on living at Craig Dhu for a little while, until you come back, and it would be easier for me if they didn’t know.'

He looked displeased. ‘I meant to take you to my parents, it would be a more suitable arrangement.’

‘But they would be strangers.’ (And possibly antagonistic, not approving his choice.) 'It 11 be an anxious time and I'd much rather be among people I know and go on as if nothing had changed.’

‘Something will have changed. You’ll no longer be a virgin.’

Frances flushed fierily as she met his sensual look and he laughed.

'I like to make you blush, shows you’ve some red blood in you. We’ll spend a little time together after the ceremony, but not at Craig Dhu. I’ll arrange something.’

Gray agreed, but with reluctance, to keep the marriage secret until his return. Frances felt she could not endure Lesley’s venom and Ian’s reproach without his presence to support her, and it would be worse being with his at present unknown parents.

By now the waves had increased and Gray was having to pull hard to get the boat across the loch. About half way over it started to rain. Frances draped her towel over her shoulders, but it was not much protection. Her hair streamed out on the wind like a banner. The boat rose and fell with the surge, but she was not afraid, storms always' exhilarated her, but by the time they reached the landing stage she was soaked to the skin.

‘Run up to the house and get dry while I put the boat away,’ Gray commanded.

As she ran Frances reflected that water seemed to be the prevailing element in her life by the loch. Later, soaking in a hot bath, she went over the events of that incredible afternoon. She had promised to marry a man who had spoken no word of love, and who on parting had not even kissed her, but had ordered her away peremptorily, as if he were glad to be rid of her.

During
the short period that was to elapse before Gray left, Frances went about her duties in a daze. The more she thought about it, the more fantastic the afternoon on the loch appeared. Surely she could not have been so mad as to promise to marry Gray? He was still almost a stranger, she had no idea what his tastes were or whether they had any interests in common. 1 hat did not seem to trouble him, and she rather suspected that his wife would be expected to take a back seat where his activities were concerned, which was contrary to the mutual reciprocation she believed was necessary to make a happy marriage.

Silver Arrow had been despatched in the charge of two mechanics from Crawfords; Gray was to follow by air, an arrangement which surprised Lesley and Ian. Ian expressed wonderment that Gray could bear to be parted from his precious boat even for a few days, but Lesley looked at Frances with speculative eyes. Frances feared she suspected there was something between her and Gray, for the girl was no fool and her love for Gray sharpened her perceptions where he was concerned. Gray had explained his delay upon the plea of important business still to be completed, and only Frances knew what that ‘business’ was. He did not seek her out and she was far too shy to venture to invade his privacy in the tower, and this lack of contact did little to combat her doubts. She was just beginning to believe his proposal was a fantasy, a product of her fevered imagination, when he waylaid her down by the quay, emerging from his office as she started for her afternoon walk.

‘I’ve made all the arrangements,’ he stated abruptly. ‘We leave the day after tomorrow. You’ll be ready?’

‘Gray, I can’t!’ she gasped, as usual taken aback by his precipitancy, though she knew that if they were going to be married it must be immediately. So it was true, he had proposed and she had accepted him. ‘What possible excuse can I give Mrs Ferguson for my absence?’

‘I’ve thought of that. You’ll tell her you’ve been invited to the funeral of a dear old friend. Thanks to our poor postal sendee, you’ve only just heard of her death. Margaret considers funerals are very important, that we should show respect for the dear departed, she won’t keep you from your duty. You can tell her that you’ve already spoken to me and I’ve given you leave. Ian will bring you to Mallaig, where I’ll meet you.'