Free Miss Debenham's Secret: A Husband Hunters Club Book by Sara Bennett Page A

who came into her room was someone she had thought never to see again.
     

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
     
    When the door opened Clarissa stared in disbelief. It flashed through her mind that all her remembering of the past was playing tricks on her eyes, because the man who came into her room was someone who could not possibly be here.
    But he was! He was here!
    Joy flooded her, and then washed away again, leaving only confusion.
    He was older; his hair was not so long and there were lines on his face that had not been there before, as well as an old scar, but it was him.
    Alistair McKay.
    Was he Meredith’s father? But no, he couldn’t be. The surname was wrong.
    He was standing inside her office, looking at her, but there was no recognition in his face. Why didn’t he recognise her?
    Then she realised she was standing against the window and he probably saw little more than a silhouette, and with her heart beating faster than it had for years she stepped forward to her desk.
    He saw her now and recognised her. Shock made his brown eyes grow wide and some emotion flickered in them briefly, before he looked down, away from her. When he looked at her again his face was wary and his mouth was tight. He gave a her a polite bow and spoke.
    “I am here about Meredith.” His voice sounded the same. Another jump of her heart; her emotions were running wild and she forced herself to rein them in.
    “Meredith Wentworth?”
    “Yes. I didn’t realise you would be seeing me in person . . .”
    Did he mean that if he had known he would not have come at all? Clarissa felt the last of her joy seeping away. She forced herself to smile, although the movement felt stiff and false. Her voice was brisk and businesslike. “I’m sure we can cope with a few fading memories, Mr. McKay.  Is Meredith your daughter?”
    He shook his head; he looked a little bemused still but he was quickly regaining his wits. “Meredith is my niece. She’s my sister’s child.”
    “I see.” She would not admit it to herself, but Clarissa was glad Meredith wasn’t his daughter, although she knew how foolish she was being. Even if Meredith wasn’t his it didn’t mean he didn’t have several children of his own. Dozens, probably. Her own silliness almost made her laugh and it helped to release some of her tension. She sat down and gestured to the chair opposite. “Please, take a seat, Mr. McKay.”
    He looked at the chair and seemed to gather himself before he made his way toward it. Clarissa was very glad she was sitting down. After his first few awkward steps she stared down at her ledgers so she didn’t have to look any more. Her hands, clasped beneath the desk, were shaking and there were tears in her eyes, blurring the cold hard fact that Alistair had been injured.
    Beneath the plain brown stuff of his trousers he must have a wooden peg instead of flesh and blood. She could tell from the way he moved, fluid enough from practise, but no longer as fluidly as a real leg would move. Clarissa had seen such injuries before; in men who had fought in the wars of twenty and more years ago amputations were far from uncommon. She knew she must speak and act naturally. For his sake. She must not let him see how very saddened she was. The Alistair McKay she remembered would hate to be pitied.
    When she heard the chair creak as he sat, she looked up with a determined smile, to find his hard eyes fixed on hers. Once he would have smiled and joked but there was no smile there today and, she thought, perhaps not for a long while.
    “I wanted to talk about Meredith,” she heard herself say, and was glad her voice was its usual calm and even self. “As you know her fees—”
    “Miss Debenham, there is no need,” he tried to stop her. “I’m aware of the situation. I wasn’t before, but I am now. My sister has been very ill and her illness has thrown her family’s financial affairs into chaos. My brother in law isn’t the best manager and he has rather let things