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excited barking. Mark shot a look after her and grinned. 'That child is
crammed with energy. Where on earth does she get it? Just watching her
makes me feel tired!'
Helen sensed that he was trying to relieve the tension between them, return
them to a more even level of emotion. She smiled at him to reassure him.
'She's a darling and I love her. I love all your family.'
'I'm glad about that,' Mark retorted, grinning. 'I'd hate to have to kill them
all off.'
Helen laughed, eyes bright. 'I don't want you to lose anything, Mark. I'd
hate to feel I've harmed you in any way.' Although she spoke lightly her
words were serious and he took them as such.
'You haven't and you won't, darling. I've been waiting for you all my life. I
always knew that somewhere there was a girl with green eyes and a mane of
silvery hair.' His eyes teased her. 'But you took your time in showing up.'
Patsy had fallen in her headlong chase and the dogs seethed around her,
encouraging her to get up with barks and wet kisses. 'Get off, you mangy
hounds!' Patsy bellowed loudly, and Helen and Mark stood watching,
laughing. Patsy's exuberant amusement spread to them and Helen felt
suddenly five years younger, the weight of her life with Paul shed from her
shoulders, gaiety and happiness in her smile.
She had not felt as free and alive in years. Mark looked down at her
laughing face and his eyes grew passionate. His hand groped for hers and
held it, ^ swinging between them, a physical link which completed the
circle of their love.
Over the heather-thick brow of the hill came a row of horses, galloping
gingerly over the frosty ground. 'Boxing Day fun and games,' Mark
commented, glancing briefly at their dark outlines. 'The country club
fraternity, I expect. They usually ride out this way.
'Patsy, we'll turn back!' he shouted towards his niece, who got up with the
dogs bounding around her and turned back towards them. Helen stood
watching the riders as they wheeled away towards the distant road.
Suddenly one of them peeled off and came towards her, and with a leap of
the heart she recognised Paul in white sweater and jeans. His face was set in
a vicious white mask. Even at a distance she could read the rage in his face.
Mark had not noticed him. He turned to Helen and put a casual arm around
her shoulders; possessive, loving but without sensuality. She looked up at
him, but before she could speak and warn him of Paul's approach Patsy
yelled: 'Stop Buster, Mark! He's after rabbits again!'
Buster was lolloping along with his tongue out and an excited expression.
Mark, grinning, broke away from Helen and headed him off, whistling.
Paul's course swerved in answer to Mark's movements and suddenly Helen
saw what he meant to do.
'Mark!' she screamed.
At her panic-stricken voice Mark swung, stiffening, and saw Paul
thundering down on him. Helen began to run towards him, her heart
pounding inside her. Paul was going to ride Mark down: she had seen it in a
flash. His teeth were bared in a savage grin and his features stripped to their
basic element of self-indulgent spite. Helen knew the way Paul's mind
worked. Seeing them laughing together, happy together, he had been furious
and in an instant he had made up his mind to smash what they had like a
thwarted child who will break another child's toy merely because he wants it
and cannot have it. Paul was taking a gamble, but he would have believed in
his own ability to lie convincingly. If he had caught Mark unaware he would
have said his horse had run away with him, pretended shock and horror,
even wept in mock distress.
'Get back, Helen!' Mark shouted as she came towards him, and the crack of
his voice stopped her in her tracks.
The horse was galloping flat out, unstoppable, the reins pulled right back
and the head up, nostrils flaring, teeth clamped.
Mark faced it calmly, his lean body poised. A second before the horse would
hit him he leapt aside with a balletic spring and it sailed harmlessly on.
Helen ran to Mark and flung herself against him, holding him in her arms,
her cheek against his sweater, hearing his living heart beat on under her wet
face. The tears ran down her cheeks. What might have happened had shown
her at last what she would be losing if she did not choose Mark now and for
ever. She would have wanted to die if Mark had gone down under Paul's
hooves.
Patsy had stopped dead, staring in shocked amazement. 'If he'd hurt you '
Helen groaned out, and Mark kissed her hair.
'I'm safe, darling,' he muttered. 'Stop trembling, Helen I'm safe.' His words
broke off and she felt his body stiffen. He thrust her back from him with a
rough gesture. 'Get out of the way, Helen!'
She turned and saw Paul riding back towards them at the same furious pace.
Buster was barking, his great head lifted as he watched the curious antics
going on around him. Patsy had his collar, but as she realised Paul was
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