by Daphne Clair
He still looked a little remote when he came in that evening, and she sensed a tension in him. As she served up the meal for them, he asked suddenly, 'Are you sure you don't want a paid household help?'
Surprised, she said, 'No. I like cooking and I don't mind housework—it isn't worth getting someone in for the little there is to do, anyway. There are only the two of us, and we don't entertain much.'
His look was keen but unreadable. 'You're working, after all ‑' he said.
Elise smiled. 'I've nearly finished the drawings for the textbook, and I don't know if any more work will be coming in.'
'It would if you looked for it.'
'Do you think I should? Do you want a career woman for a wife?'
'I want you for my wife,' he said quietly. 'Whatever you happen to be. Even ‑'
The flash of bitterness in his eyes was quickly hidden as he broke off, but she thought she knew what he had been going to say. Even if she happened to be another man's widow.
'I can't help what I am. Shard,' she said, deliberately hardening her voice to control the threat of its trembling. 'When you married me you knew ‑'
'Yes, I knew,' he interrupted harshly. 'You can be devastatingly frank at times, Elise, But I'm glad of that— at least I know just where I stand.'
'I can't hold a candle to you,' she said. 'You're the most brutally candid person I know—although lately you seem to be a little more ‑'
His eyes mocked her. 'Civilised? So you've noticed my efforts to reform.'
Nettled, she felt a faint rising of her old antagonism. 'My mother said marriage had mellowed you,' she informed him smugly, deliberately waving a red rag.
His narrowed eyes showed an appreciation of her mood. 'Didn't she give you credit for it?' he asked, the mockery still in his smile.
Almost defensively, she said, 'I've never asked you to change.'
'No.' Almost gently he added, 'But it pleases you, doesn't it?'
Elise wasn't sure about that. If anything. Shard's suave courtesy to her parents had made her a little uneasy. 'Do you want to please me?' she asked in a low voice.
'I want you to be happy.'
She searched his face and found it impossible to tell if he was absolutely sincere or still amusing himself.
She pushed away her plate and stood up to go to the kitchen for the dessert.
Later on, as she sat leafing through a magazine and Shard stood at the window of the lounge after a series of restless movements about the room, he suddenly turned to her and asked, 'Elise, would you like to adopt a child?'
'Would you?' she asked, staring at him. He had never indicated that he had wanted children, never given any hint that it mattered to him that she apparently couldn't have any.
But his quick movement as he came towards her was impatient. 'I asked what you want,' he said. 'If you want a child, we can do it.'
'For heaven's sake!' she exclaimed in sudden anger. 'You can't decide to adopt a child simply to satisfy my —my maternal instincts. A child has to be wanted—by both parents!'
'I didn't say I didn't want it. Would it satisfy your maternal instincts?'
'No! Oh—I don't know. That isn't the point.' She stood up, facing him. 'You of all people should know,' she said, 'you can't just make a gift to me of a child, as though it was a—a fur coat or a watch! There are some things your money won't buy for me, Shard.'
He looked taut and angry. 'It isn't a question of money,' he said.
'No,' she admitted, turning away from him. 'It's more than that. It's this—compulsion of yours to give me everything I want. You saw me with that little girl today, and decided I might like one of my own—just as when I admire a painting or a piece of jewellery you get it for me. It doesn't matter if you happen to hate it yourself—and you never say. Suddenly you have no tastes, no opinions, no preferences, except a preference for pleasing me! I suppose I should be grateful and flattered —I'm not. I'm—I'm suffocated!'
He took a stride towards her and she evaded him and almost ran out of the room. She slammed the door of the bedroom and stood quivering in the middle of the floor, trying to calm herself. It was stupid to react like this. One got nowhere with emotional outbursts; she should have spoken calmly, reasoned with him.
The door opened and he came in, quietly closing it behind him. Without looking at him, she said in the calmest voice that she could muster, 'I'm sorry, Shard, I didn't mean to hurt you.'
He had been moving over the carpet towards her, but when she spoke he stopped short. He made some short, sharp exclamation under his breath, and then moved again, catching her shoulders in hard hands, as her startled eyes met his.
'Cut out the ladylike apologies,' he said, his mouth a curve of sarcasm. 'You started to tell me what you really feel, in there.'
'I was angry --'
'Yes, you were. And interesting, until you ran away. It's what you always do, when' a genuine emotion threatens to break through that iron-clad self-control of yours.'
That isn't true!' she flashed, and saw the quick satisfaction in his eyes as his hands loosened.
'All right, forget that,' he said. Tell me why you feel suffocated.'
'I don't know! Except that you give me so much and ask for nothing.'
'I won't ask for what you can't give me. And what you do have to give, I've never had to ask for.'
Perplexed, she shook her head and queried, 'What are you talking about?'
'This,' he said, and reached for her again, pulling her fully into his arms.
She didn't respond at first to his kiss, standing rigid in his arms as his lips coaxed and then commanded. When his hands moved and touched her she gave a little shiver and made a small effort to escape. She still felt puzzled and resentful, and his answer was no answer, but a mind-bending, deliberately sensuous evasion.
He let her push him away a little, but only so that he Could lift her and place her on the bed, and then silenced her fretful protest again with his mouth, and stilled her struggles with his hands, half coercive and half caressing, and the warm weight of his body against hers.
CHAPTER NINE
After she had finished working on the textbook, Elise visited the office and the building site several more times, sometimes making sketches as the office block began to rise and take shape.
She also consulted quite often with Cole Finlay about the designs for their house. Shard seldom joined them, saying that Elise might please herself about the details.
Cole was a relaxing person, easy-going and with a quiet sense of humour. Elise discovered that he had once been married, had three children who now lived at the other end of the country with his wife and her second husband. 'I see them occasionally,' he said. 'It's what's known as an amicable arrangement. But it's odd seeing your kids only a couple of times a year. Every time, we have to get to know one another all over again.'
She thought he was lonely and a little sad, and often invited him for a meal, sometimes impromptu.
'Your wife took pity on me again,' he said to Shard one evening when Shard came home to find him once more ensconced in the lounge with a drink while Elise prepared the meal.
As Elise came out of the kitchen. Shard poured himself a drink, saying, 'You don't look a pitiable object to me, Cole.'
'Ah, but you're not a beautiful woman! Elise sees beneath the surface.'
Shard poured a glass of sherry and handed it to Elise, watching her face. 'Is beauty a necessary quality for that?' he asked.
Cole laughed. 'Maybe not, but it certainly makes it more enjoyable.'
'To be pitied? I can't imagine that being enjoyable under any circumstances.'
Elise said lightly, 'Cole's talking nonsense. I asked him to stay for dinner because I—we—enjoy his company. Besides, I want him to show you the latest plans for the house. You never have time during the day.'
'I'll get them,' said Cole, and putting down his glass left the room, adding, 'They're in the car. Won't be long.'
Shard leaned back
in his chair, his gaze on Elise, going without haste from her neatly crossed ankles to her gleaming, swept-up hairstyle. 'Are you sorry for him?' he asked.
'A little.'
'He's successful, healthy, reasonably well off --'
'And has a broken marriage and three children he scarcely ever sees. He misses them.'
Shard's eyebrows rise. 'So he's taken you into his confidence.'
'You didn't know?'
'I knew he was divorced.'
'I suppose men don't talk about these things much.'
'Not to me.'
Elise looked at him thoughtfully. 'No, not to you. You don't really seem the marrying kind at all. Shard. Sometimes I wonder why you——'
'But you know why,' he said. 'You wouldn't settle for less.' He stood up suddenly, his eyes gleaming but unreadable. 'And. neither could I. I wanted you completely and for ever. You know that.'
The liquid in her glass danced a little. 'I wasn't sure,' she said. 'You seem to live from day to day. I didn't know if for ever was included in your calculations.'
Deliberately he said, 'I don't make vows unless I'm going to keep them. There seems to be a lot about me that you don't know.'
'You're not easy to understand,' she said.
'Why? I thought my main fault in your eyes was being too direct.'
'Have I said that?'
'I certainly thought so. In actions as well as in words.'
She studied his face, wondering if he found her over-critical, and thinking that although he had been harsh about her character when they first met, he never criticised her now—except for that one time when he had bitterly accused her of marrying Peter to please everyone but herself ... and him.
Then Cole came back, carrying a folder, and Shard moved away to speak to him as he began pulling out sheets of plans. Elise finished her drink and returned to the kitchen.
There were times when she felt that she had come close to fathoming some of the depths in Shard, but each time she would come up against something that baffled and bewildered her. Although he never lied and seemed to say just what he thought, she felt that three-quarters of him was deliberately hidden from her. It put a restraint on her own emotions and she was well aware that at times Shard looked at her with a sardonic, narrow smile when she was treating him to her coolest and most exquisite good manners. Occasionally she would look up to find him studying her with laughter in his eyes, and if she met them an unspoken message flashed across the space that separated them—a message that made her look away with burning cheeks, hoping that no one else, if they were in company, had seen. Because it was so blatant, and because she couldn't prevent her own eyes from signalling the answer that he wanted.
Because in the privacy of their bedroom she couldn't maintain that coolness, and he knew it. He knew the aloof courtesy was a facade that crumbled easily at the light touch of his fingers on her body, that he could change her cool poise to careless, clinging passion, and bring to her lips the incoherent sounds of love instead of polite platitudes.
But she too had her moments of triumph when for a short but endless space of time he lay in her arms and gave himself to her in the uncontrollable culmination of his passion. At those times it seemed that this was all that really mattered, this completeness in each other was the reality, and the hidden barriers she felt at other times were an illusion.
The calendar had suddenly become an important factor in her life. She was counting days, first with some surprise, then with hope and now with a barely suppressed excitement. She told herself she dared not hope, that it was too soon to even consult a doctor, that she mustn't count on the miracle. But the excitement kept welling up past the caution and the common sense with which she tried to contain it, and also past her doubt as to Shard's likely reaction.
Shard didn't seem a family man, but he would accept this—if it was true—for her sake. And in time he must, surely, love his child for its own sake?
But she would have to be sure before she mentioned it to Shard. It wasn't really a miracle, of course. The doctors hadn't said it was impossible, just unlikely.
Elise had no further commissions, but she had started on an ambitious project, a book of her own. It would be a picture book, with a simple text which she wrote herself, the story about a little boy whose father was a builder, and was building a home for himself, his wife and child. She used the sketches she had made on Cortland Construction sites, and adapted them to the story, where the father took the boy to see Some of the building projects he was engaged in. And she used the knowledge that she picked up from Shard and Cole for the technical details of the planning and construction of the house.
She went out to the site of their own house one day and watched and asked questions as Cole took measurements and checked levels. She was standing watching the blue sea wash lazily into the beach below when a sudden wave of dizziness caught her, and she clutched at a nearby tree, leaning her clammy forehead against the rough trunk.
Cole's voice came to her dimly. 'Elise, what's the matter?'
Gratefully she leaned on his arm and let him take her back to the car.
'Get your head down,' he ordered. She obeyed and after a few minutes was able to sit up, gulping air.
'Sorry,' she gasped. 'I'm all right now. Thank you. Cole.'
'I'll take you home,' he said. 'You still look a bit rocky.'
'But you haven't finished --'
'Never mind. You need to lie down properly.'
Gratefully she sank back in the seat and let him take charge.
When they arrived he accompanied her into the flat, made her lie on the bed and insisted on making tea. He had even made fingers of crisp brown toast, she discovered, when he carried a tray into the bedroom, and handed her the cup of steaming liquid.
It made her feel better, and Cole said, 'Now you look more like yourself.'
'I feel it, too.'
'Have some toast. It'll help.'
She would have said she couldn't eat, but she took a finger of it to please him, and surprised herself by eating it all. 'You're right,' she said. 'You missed your vocation. Cole, you should have been a nurse.'
He grinned a little sadly. 'I've been through it before,' he said. 'Every time my wife was expecting she was like this for a few weeks.'
Elise flushed. 'I'm—not certain yet,' she said.
'I am,' he smiled. 'Some women get a certain glow about them when it happens. You're one of them. I've noticed it a couple of times in the last week or so. It's like a light going on inside you, that shows in your face. You're always beautiful, but lately I've seen you grow even more so. And I've envied Shard—now, more than ever.' He smiled. 'I'd better go—stay here, I know where the door is.'
She put out her hand, and he took it. 'You were wonderful --' she began, but he broke into her thanks with a smile.
'And you are!' he said, making her laugh and shake her head against the pillow.
He bent and dropped a kiss on her brow, and as he straightened and dropped her hand, Elise looked past him as a figure appeared in the doorway.
'Shard!'
Shard walked into the room, his face conveying no expression whatever, but a certain mask-like rigidity.
Cole said, 'I'm just leaving, Shard. Elise is a bit unwell.' He looked awkward and uneasy, trying too hard to be natural. 'We were out at the section,' he explained, 'so I brought her home and made a cup of tea when she started feeling seedy.'
Disturbed by Shard's continued silence, his eyes that were fixed with inflexible coldness on Cole's face, Elise swung off the bed and stood beside Cole.
'Cole's been awfully kind,' she said, her voice sounding to her own ears several notches higher than usual, almost unnatural. 'What are you doing home at this hour?'
The grey eyes swung to her face, stony and merciless. 'I have to go to Wellington for a few days,' he said. The plane leaves in an hour.'
He looked pointedly back to Cole, who shifted his feet and looked apologetically at Elise, the
n moved reluctantly to the door. 'I'll leave you to it, then,' he said lamely. And then, 'You should make her rest. Shard. Pregnant ladies need special care, you know.'
Elise saw him almost wince as Shard said, 'I can look after my wife, Cole.'
Cole smiled uncomfortably and Elise heard the outer door close behind him. She realised that they must have left it open, as he brought her inside, and so they hadn't heard Shard coming in.
Shard had turned his back on her and was opening the wardrobe, taking a small bag from it and throwing it on the bed, already taking shirts from hangers. Hadn't he heard what Cole had said?
She picked up one of the shirts and began folding it. Shard turned to the chest of drawers, pulled out socks and underwear and threw them into the bag.
'Don't you want to lie down?' he asked, stuffing a spare pair of shoes into a comer of the bag. There was sarcasm in his voice.
'I'm quite all right, now.'
He gave her a lightning look and said, 'Yes. You don't look sick.' He glanced at his watch and said, 'The taxi should be here by now.' He went to the bathroom, and came back with his shaver and toothbrush in his hands, put them into the leather toilet bag she had given him for Christmas, and tossed it into the case, shutting it. She didn't know anyone else, she thought, who could pack in five minutes.
She heard the sound of the taxi honking outside, and Shard picked up the bag.
She said, 'It's very sudden, isn't it?'
'Yes, they seem to have a crisis. I'll have to sort it out.'
'You'll be back on Friday?'
She might have imagined the small pause before he said, 'Yes.'
He was moving to the door, and the taxi driver must have got impatient, because the doorbell rang as Elise said, 'Shard ‑?'
He turned and looked at her.
She said, 'Did you hear what Cole said?'
His mouth was hard and his jaw set. 'About what?' he said.
'About—why I was feeling sick. I'm going to have a baby, Shard.'
'Oh, yes,' he said, as though it was an unimportant bit of information that had slipped his mind. 'Whose?'
For a moment he stood there, as she whitened and her breath sucked into her throat in sudden, tearing pain. Then, unbelievably, he turned on his heel and walked out.