of what he had intended to say.
'Good afternoon,' he said uncertainly.
'Good afternoon, Barclay,' Amethyst replied coolly. She turned deliberately to Charlotte. 'Mr. Barclay Hamilton, Miss Charlotte Ellison, who was kind enough to call in person to express her condolences.'
Barclay's face softened in recognition of a generosity.
'How do you do, Miss Ellison.' Then before she could reply, he turned back to Amethyst and the moment was gone. 'I apologize for calling at an inconvenient time. I brought a few papers regarding the estate.' He held them forward in his hand, not so much offering them to her as indicating the reason for his presence.
'Very good of you,' Amethyst replied. 'But unnecessary. I was not anxious. You could have sent them and avoided the journey.'
He looked as if he had been slapped; then his mouth hardened. 'They are not of a nature I'd trust to the penny post.
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Perhaps I did not make myself clear: they are land deeds and rental agreements.'
If Amethyst heard the edge in his voice she either refused to acknowledge it or did not care. ' 'I am sure you are better equipped than I to deal with such things. You are, after all, the executor.'' She did not offer him tea or make the slightest accommodation for him.
' 'And it is part of my duty to see that you are aware of the circumstances, and understand the properties you now own.' He was staring at her, and at last she met his eyes. The blood rushed up in her cheeks, then fled again, leaving her paler than before.
'Thank you for doing your duty.' She was polite now, but remote to the point that it became rudeness. 'Of course, I would have expected no less of you.''
His tone was equally cold and punctilious. 'Perhaps you will now do your own and look at them.''
Her body stiffened and her head came up. 'I think you forget to whom you speak, Mr. Hamilton!'
There were white lines round his mouth forced by the pressure of his feeling, and the effort of self-control. When he spoke his voice shook. 'I never forget who you are, ma-dame. Never from the day we met have I forgotten most exactly who and what you are, as God is my judge.'
'If you have accomplished all you came to do,' she said very quietly, very levelly, 'then I think it would be better if you were to leave. I wish you good afternoon.'
He inclined his head, first to Amethyst, then to Charlotte. 'Good afternoon, ma'am; Miss Ellison.' And he turned sharply and marched out, pulling the door behind him with a bang.
For an instant Charlotte considered pretending nothing had happened, but even as the idea crossed her mind she knew it was ridiculous. Before the interruption she and Amethyst had been talking together as friends; there had been a thread of
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understanding that would make such a charade impossible. It would be a deliberate rebuff, like walking away.
The seconds ticked by, and Amethyst did not move. Charlotte waited until the silence was oppressive, then she leaned across, poured the dregs of Amethyst's tea into the slop basin and filled her cup again from the pot. She stood and went to her.
'You had better have this,' she said gently. 'It is obviously a distressing relationship. It would be pointless of me to offer my help-there is probably nothing anyone can debut please accept my sympathy. I too have relatives I find exceedingly trying.'' She was thinking of Grandmama, which was hardly the same, but when she had been young and living at home, it was difficult enough.
Amethyst regained control of herself and accepted the tea, sipping it in silence for some moments.
' 'Thank you,'' she said at last.' 'You are most considerate. I apologize for subjecting you to such an embarrassing confrontation. I had no idea it would be so-so awkward.' But further than that she said nothing, offering no explanation.
