Ten paces behind them the farmhouse was already barely in sight, dissolving and drifting, its gray slates and white walls the perfect blend of mist and cloud.
Jo stopped. “Where is the wall?”
“Here. Beside us. Ben was right, it would be easy to get lost.” Nick touched her elbow, guiding her a little to the left.
Jo moved slightly away from him. Her heart had begun to beat in a quick, uneasy rhythm. She glanced back. The farmhouse had gone; they were completely alone.
She pushed her hands further into her pockets. “How did the trip to the States go? You haven’t told me yet.”
Nick was walking a couple of paces behind her, his eyes on her slim figure in the tightly belted raincoat and black rubber boots. Somewhere deep inside himself he felt a sudden awakening of anger.
She turned, pulling off the blue scarf Ann had lent her and shaking her hair free. “Do you think you’ll get the new account? What is it, Nick?” She had seen it at once in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head desperately. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I didn’t sleep, that’s all. Yes, I think there’s a good chance. I’m flying a team out to New York next week to discuss things with the marketing director out there; then, if all goes well, we’ll take over the launch of their product in the UK early next year.” He stopped and picked up a loose stone from the ground beneath the wall, hurling it into the whiteness. “If we get the account I’ll be taking on new staff because it looks as though Desco has had a change of heart.”
“Oh, Nick, I am pleased.” Unobtrusively Jo put several feet more between him and herself. “I knew it was just a temporary hiccup.”
Nick gave a strained laugh. “Firms larger than mine have gone under through losing one account.” He did not look at her. “Jo, I didn’t come up here to discuss the problems or otherwise of Franklyn-Greerson.”
“No.” Jo glanced across at him. Now that the moment had come she didn’t know what to say. She clenched her fists, aching to touch him and yet not daring to move. In anguish she turned away. “What do you think of the Clementses, Nick?” she asked softly.
“I like them.” He grimaced. “And I think we need them. Dear God, we need someone.”
Jo frowned. She could see the faint outline of a group of trees near them now and hear the distant bleating of a sheep. Below on the hillside the mist was graying but above their heads it seemed brighter and there was a hint of glare in the air. She tensed suddenly, realizing that Nick was standing beside her again.
“Listen, Jo-”
“No, please, Nick.” She backed away. “Please-don’t touch me-”
“Don’t touch you!” His anger overflowed suddenly. “Always the same! You sleep with my brother, but I must not touch you!”
He reached out toward her, but she edged away from him, her boots slipping on the wet, muddy grass.
“I haven’t slept with your brother! That’s a lie!”
“How do you know?” Nick’s voice was dangerously quiet.
She stared at him in horror. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, he hypnotized you. He told me all about it, Jo. William de Braose-my brother! How strange that he should choose to be a man like that!”
“Perhaps he had no choice,” Jo cried.
Nick raised an eyebrow. “Or perhaps that identity gives him all the chances he wants to screw Matilda and by proxy her latter-day descendant!”
“He didn’t-” She backed away from him until she felt the rough stones of the wall against her back. “He…he wanted to, but he couldn’t manage it-”
“So he beat you instead? And I gather you thought you deserved it. Perhaps you even enjoyed it?”
“No, I damn well didn’t!” Jo exploded. “If I ever set eyes on your brother again I’ll kill him with my bare hands. He’s a sadistic, twisted psychopath!”
Nick laughed coldly. “But you have to admit he had a point. You were unfaithful to your husband.”
“You of all people should know about that,” she retorted defiantly.
He smiled, his eyes hard. “I remember only one occasion,” he said slowly, “when you lay with your prince.”
“I was raped by my prince,” Jo said forcibly. “He nearly killed me!”
“He loved you, Jo, but you made him angry. You kept on making him angry-”
“Not
Nick did not move. He caught her wrist and, forcing her arm backward, held it pressed for a moment on the top of the wall. Lichen streaked the white sleeve of the raincoat.
“You may or may not have slept with Sam, but you did sleep with Tim Heacham while you were in Raglan, I hear. You’ve been having quite a time, haven’t you, Jo?”
She shrank back. “I can sleep with whom I damn well please, Nick Franklyn, you don’t own me! Let me go-”
“Your husband was right. You do need to be punished-”
“I haven’t got a husband!” Jo shouted. “For God’s sake, you’re mad as well! Don’t you see, it’s not real, none of it is real!” She stopped struggling as his grip on her wrist tightened and pain shot through her shoulder. “Nick, please, you’re hurting me. Nick!”
For a moment he didn’t move. Closing his eyes, he felt the sweat standing on his forehead. Then his stomach heaved and, dropping Jo’s wrist, he staggered a couple of paces back, retching into the grass.
“Nick?” Jo was staring at him, frightened. His anger had gone as quickly as it had come and in its place was a blank, uncomprehending terror. “Nick, what’s happened? What has Sam done to you? Oh, God, what are we going to do?”
Straightening, Nick wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. He was shaking violently as he turned back toward her. “I’ve hurt you.” He gasped. “God, Jo, I’ve hurt you-” He caught her arm again, but gently this time, and looked down at it. There was blood on the back of her hand, welling between the streaks of green from the mossy stones.
“It’s only a graze.” She snatched it away from him.
Nick stood motionless. He felt dizzy. “He’s manipulating me! He’s made me believe I’m someone I’m not. Jo, he’s turned me into a killer!” He leaned forward on the wall and put his head in his hands.
Jo was trembling so violently she could hardly stand. “Let’s go back inside-”
“Ann can’t help me.” He didn’t move. “She tried last night.”
Jo had turned away toward the house. She stopped in her tracks. “When?”
“Neither of us could sleep. We had some tea, and I told her what I was afraid of. She tried to regress me, but she couldn’t.” Taking a deep breath, he grasped the top of the stone wall so tightly his nails splintered.
“I love you, Jo,” he whispered suddenly, his voice husky with despair. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that.”
The kitchen smelled of baking. “Well, you two weren’t long,” Ann said cheerfully. “I thought you’d wait till the sun came out at least.” She glanced up and the smile faded from her lips. “What happened?”
Nick hung up his jacket on the back of the door and threw himself on the sofa. “You’ve got to help me, Ann. For pity’s sake, help me!”
Ann glanced at Jo, who had walked to the sink and was running warm water over her hand, her back to them both. She took a deep breath. “I’ll try again,” she said. “Jo, will you leave us alone? Take a couple of mugs of coffee out for you and Ben. He’s in the cowshed.”
She waited until Jo had let herself out of the kitchen door, then she turned. “What happened?”
“Nothing. But it nearly did. I could feel him, Ann, inside me. Cold, calculating, angry, bitter. I knew that I-he- could do anything. Anything! I fought it this time but another time I might not be able to.”
“Sit down. Here.” She pointed to the kitchen table. “I’m going to light the oil lamp. You said Sam uses lights to induce hypnosis. There-now, look at the flame. Don’t blink. Occupy your mind totally with that speck of fire. That’s
