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Travis!’ he said. ‘Welcome.’

      ‘Thank you, mister – er – sorry, I don’t remember your name …’

      ‘Van der Merwe. Salomon van der Merwe. Don’t apologize. Dutch names are difficult to remember. Dinner is ready. Margaret!’ he called as he led Jamie into the back room. Nothing had changed. Margaret was standing at the stove over a frying pan, her back to them.

      ‘Margaret, this is our guest I spoke of – Mr Travis.’

      Margaret turned. ‘How do you do?’

      There was not a flicker of recognition.

      ‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Jamie nodded.

      The customer bell rang and Van der Merwe said, ‘Excuse me, I’ll be right back. Please make yourself at home, Mr Travis.’ He hurried out.

      Margaret carried a steaming bowl of vegetables and meat over to the table, and as she hurried to take the bread from the oven Jamie stood there, silently looking at her. She had blossomed in the year since he had seen her. She had become a woman, with a smouldering sexuality that had been lacking before.

      ‘Your father tells me you’re an excellent cook.’

      Margaret blushed. ‘I – I hope so, sir.’

      ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve tasted home cooking. I’m looking forward to this.’ Jamie took a large butter dish from Margaret and placed it on the table for her. Margaret was so surprised she almost dropped the plate in her hands. She had never heard of a man who helped in woman’s work. She lifted her startled eyes to his face. A broken nose and a scar spoiled what would otherwise have been a too-handsome face. His eyes were light grey and shone with intelligence and a burning intensity. His white hair told her that he was not a young man, and yet there was something very youthful about him. He was tall and strong and – Margaret turned away, embarrassed by his gaze.

      Van der Merwe hurried back into the room, rubbing his hands. ‘I’ve closed the shop,’ he said. ‘Let’s sit down and have a fine dinner.’

      Jamie was given the place of honour at the table. ‘We’ll say grace,’ Van der Merwe said.

      They closed their eyes. Margaret slyly opened hers again, so that she could continue her scrutiny of the elegant stranger while her father’s voice droned on. ‘We are all sinners in your eyes, O Lord, and must be punished. Give us the strength to bear our hardships on this earth, so that we may enjoy the fruits of heaven when we are called. Thank you, Lord, for helping those of us who deserve to prosper. Amen.’

      Salomon van der Merwe began serving. This time the portions he served Jamie were more than generous. They talked as they ate. ‘Is this your first time out this way, Mr Travis?’

      ‘Yes,’ Jamie said. ‘First time.’

      ‘You didn’t bring Mrs Travis along, I understand.’

      ‘There is no Mrs Travis. I haven’t found anyone who’d have me.’ Jamie smiled.

      What fool of a woman would refuse him? Margaret wondered. She lowered her eyes, afraid the stranger might read her wicked thoughts.

      ‘Klipdrift is a town of great opportunity, Mr Travis. Great opportunity.’

      ‘I’m willing to be shown.’ He looked at Margaret, and she blushed.

      ‘If it isn’t too personal, Mr Travis, may I ask how you acquired your fortune?’

      Margaret was embarrassed by her father’s blunt questions, but the stranger did not seem to mind.

      ‘I inherited it from my father,’ James said easily.

      ‘Ah, but I’m sure you’ve had a lot of business experience.’

      ‘Very little, I’m afraid. I need a lot of guidance.’

      Van der Merwe brightened. ‘It’s fate that we met, Mr Travis. I have some very profitable connections. Very profitable, indeed. I can almost guarantee that I can double your money for you in just a few months.’ He leaned over and patted Jamie’s arm. ‘I have a feeling this is a big day for both of us.’

      Jamie just smiled.

      ‘I suppose you’re staying at the Grand Hotel?’

      ‘That’s right.’

      ‘It’s criminally expensive. But I suppose to a man of your means.’ He beamed at Jamie.

      Jamie said, ‘I’m told the countryside around here is interesting. Would it be an imposition to ask you to let your daughter show me around a bit tomorrow?’

      Margaret felt her heart stop for a second.

      Van der Merwe frowned. ‘I don’t know. She –’

      It was an iron-clad rule of Salomon van der Merwe’s never to permit any man to be alone with his daughter. In the case of Mr Travis, however, he decided there would be no harm in making an exception. With so much at stake, he did not want to appear inhospitable. ‘I can spare Margaret from the store for a short time. You will show our guest around, Margaret?’

      ‘If you wish, Father,’ she said quietly.

      ‘That’s settled then.’ Jamie smiled. ‘Shall we say ten o’clock in the morning?’

      

      After the tall, elegantly dressed guest left, Margaret cleared away the table and washed the dishes, in a complete daze. He must think I’m an idiot. She went over and over in her mind everything she had contributed to the conversation. Nothing. She had been completely tongue-tied. Why was that? Hadn’t she waited on hundreds of men in the store without becoming a stupid fool? Of course they had not looked at her the way Ian Travis had. Men all have the devil in them, Margaret. I’ll not let them corrupt your innocence. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind. Could that be it? The weakness and trembling she had felt when the stranger had looked at her? Was he corrupting her innocence? The thought of it sent a delicious thrill through her body. She looked down at the plate she had dried three times and sat down at the table. She wished her mother were still alive.

      Her mother would have understood. Margaret loved her father, but sometimes she had the oppressive feeling that she was his prisoner. It worried her that he never allowed a man to come near her. I’ll never get married, Margaret thought. Not until he dies. Her rebellious thoughts filled her with guilt, and she hurriedly left the room and went into the store, where her father sat behind a desk, working on his accounts.

      ‘Good night, Father.’

      Van der Merwe took off his gold-framed spectacles and rubbed his eyes before he raised his arms to embrace his daughter good night. Margaret did not know why she pulled away.

      Alone in the curtained-off alcove that served as her bedroom, Margaret studied her face in the small, round mirror that hung on the wall. She had no illusions about her looks. She was not pretty. She was interesting-looking. Nice eyes. High cheekbones. A good figure. She drew nearer to the mirror. What had Ian Travis seen when he looked at her? She began getting undressed. And Ian Travis was in the room with her, watching her, his eyes burning into her. She stepped out of her muslin drawers and camisole and stood naked before him. Her hands slowly caressed the swell of her breasts and felt her hardening nipples. Her fingers slid down across her flat belly and his hands became entwined with hers, moving slowly downward. They were between her legs now, gently touching, stroking, rubbing, harder now, faster and faster until she was caught up in a frantic whirlpool of sensation that finally exploded inside her and she gasped his name and fell to the bed.

      

      They rode out in Jamie’s carriage, and he was amazed once more at the changes that had taken place. Where before there had been only a sea of tents, now there were substantial-looking houses, constructed of timber with roofs of corrugated iron or thatch.

      ‘Klipdrift seems very prosperous,’ Jamie said as they rode along the main street.

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