The Deserving Mistress

May gave a humourless smile. ‘It’s okay, Jude, I’m not rabid or anything—’

‘Going on the evidence of the last few minutes, I wouldn’t be too sure about that!’ he muttered disgustedly.

Her mouth tightened, her expression bleak. ‘If you want answers to your questions, Jude, then I suggest you go back in there and ask them of April Robine—although I can’t guarantee they will be truthful ones,’ she added scornfully.

Jude became suddenly still. April was the problem here, not David Melton, after all…?

Jude hated it when he didn’t know what was going on. Hated it even more knowing May had no intention of enlightening him…

‘Maybe I’ll do that,’ he said slowly.

‘Fine,’ May snapped hardly. ‘Would you tell David—?’

‘I’m not telling David anything!’ Jude cut in scathingly. ‘I’m not your messenger-boy, May; if you have something to say to David Melton, then go back in and tell him yourself!’

She drew in a sharp breath, glancing at the pub door, eyes so dark a green now they looked almost as black as the pupil. ‘I’ll pass, thank you,’ she murmured huskily, grimacing slightly. ‘I’ve already kept you from your lunch long enough,’ she added dismissively.

Jude continued to stare at her frustratedly for several long seconds before giving a rueful shake of his head. ‘I doubt any of us will feel like eating after what just happened!’

She gave a cool inclination of her head. ‘That’s your prerogative.’

‘No, May—that’s the situation you have created,’ he rebuked harshly.

‘I didn’t create it—she did!’ she returned forcefully, giving an impatient shake of her head as she seemed to realise she had said too much. ‘I really do have to go, Jude,’ she said shakily. ‘I—you—you just don’t understand!’ she cried shakily.

‘Then enlighten me!’ he pressured frustratedly.

‘I—I can’t!’ She shook her head firmly. ‘I’m sorry, Jude. Really sorry,’ she choked intensely before turning and hurrying over to unlock her car.

Jude made no move to re-enter the pub, stood in the porchway watching as May drove away, more confused by what had just happened than he would like to admit.

May had spoken just now as if she and April had already met before today, that it was some sort of past conflict between the two women that had caused her behaviour just now. And yet April’s own behaviour hadn’t implied any such conflict on her part, and she had made no mention on the way here of already being acquainted with May.

But perhaps April hadn’t known it was May that David Melton had intended introducing her to today?

No, that didn’t make any sense, either, because April had been as graciously charming as always even after the introductions had been made. So maybe the resentment was all on May’s side, and for something so obscure April didn’t even have knowledge of it?

Jude gave a puzzled shake of his head. It was one explanation for May’s behaviour just now, but surely the two women must have met at some time for this situation to have developed, even if April seemed to have forgotten the incident?

Which gave rise to yet another puzzling question: how on earth could two such disparate women as May Calendar and April Robine have possibly met before? And when?

Although English, April had lived in America for almost twenty years, most of her work based there, too. And as far as Jude was aware, May had rarely been away from her beloved farm, even for holidays.

Ask April for the answers he wanted to his questions, May had told him—but with a seeming certainty that those answers wouldn’t be truthful ones…

CHAPTER FIVE

‘MAY…’

May swayed slightly in the action of climbing down from the cab of the tractor she had just driven back into the yard.

Having hurried home several hours earlier from that luncheon appointment she had believed was with David alone, she had filled the rest of the afternoon and early evening with the regular but necessary jobs about the farm.

She had been expecting this visit, of course, but, even so, now that it had happened she still felt the shock of recognition moving chillingly down the length of her spine.

‘May, I think the two of us need to talk—don’t you?’ April Robine prompted huskily.

May deliberately kept her back turned to the other woman, fighting to control the array of emotions she knew must be moving swiftly across her expressive face.