Storm Cycle

by Margaret Pargeter

  'You think not?' His brows rose sardonically, 'You saw the faces of the men, especially when you called me Reece.'

  She flushed but stubbornly shook her head. 'If my grandfather hadn't been there they wouldn't have given that, or our being away together a second thought.'

  'How do you know?' he growled, swallowing his owndrink in one go and getting rid of the glass. Putting his hands on the arms of the chair where she sat frozen, he leant over her. 'Look at me, Zoe. Have we ever been away like this before? You're forgetting I don't run a huge, impersonal concern. This is a family business. These men have looked after you, protected you since you were a small child.'

  'But they're blaming you for something which never happened!'

  'It might easily have done.' He didn't spare her, not oven when her cheeks were scarlet. 'Don't you see, the damage has been done and it's up to me to put things right.'

  'And you really think, by marrying me, you can do that?' Her anguished green eyes begged for under­standing. 'Don't you realise that a forced marriage would be much worse than a little gossip and specula-lion? That might soon be forgotten, but if we marry people won't ever forget.'

  Reece's jaw went tight. 'Nonsense,' he replied crisply. 'That kind of gossip becomes boring in time. |s soon as everyone sees we're happily married they'll soon forget. Besides, few people will really believe I didn't know what I was doing.'

  'But you didn't, did you?' Her eyes darkened with pain. 'Why didn't you let me tell them I'd stowed away?'

  'Because it's irrelevant, and I prefer to take the blame, if we must use the word, on my own shoulders. They're broad enough,' he added dryly. 'This way, vour friends in the yard might feel sorry for you, but that's all.'

  'You don't love me,' Zoe said starkly. This, to her, although she wouldn't confess it, seemed the most important reason why they should not marry. 'You-— you're fond of Ursula Findlay. You might have been happier with someone like her.'

  'I might have,' he agreed coolly.

  That he didn't deny it hurt like physical pain. 'You were friends with her a long time.'

  'Yes,' he said, 'but I'm sure she'll understand.'

  What sort of answer was that? Zoe felt torn to shreds by the torment of not knowing. If he was determined to carry out this farce to the bitter end, why didn't he go the whole way, take her in his arms and at least pretend he had some affection for her? Wouldn't it be a whole lot better than sowing doubts in her mind about Ursula Findlay?

  'You said you didn't want to be trapped,' she accused, remembering.

  Impatiently he retorted, 'We both said a lot of things last night, Zoe, which would be better forgotten. I suggest we put such an unfortunate episode from us and start afresh.'

  'You're asking the impossible!' she gasped.

  'Nothing's impossible,' he taunted, 'but go on suf­fering if you must. I've noticed some people get a great deal of pleasure out of torturing themselves.' Lifting a hand from the arm of her chair, he tilted her chin with it to study her pale, tired face. 'One thing is certain, you aren't going to feel any better until you get home and get some rest, so come on.'

  As he let go of her trembling chin, straightening away from her without touching her again, Zoe knew instinctively that he would rather do anything than give her a comforting hug. He probably didn't trust himself not to murder her!

  Bleakly, as she rose to her feet, she asked, 'What happens in the morning?'

  Curtly he held the office door open for her. 'You come in and carry on as usual, or, should I say, as if nothing unusual had happened.' Mockingly he added, 'I have no doubt, by then, you'll have recovered your temper, as well as everything else.'

  At her grandparents' house he dropped her off with a brief goodnight, refusing to linger. To Zoe's surprise shefound her grandmother alone. She had hot soup waiting and a pot of freshly made tea. Zoe didn't feel shecould eat anything, but rather than disappoint Janet, who had obviously gone to a lot of trouble, she tackled the soup while Janet poured two cups of tea.

  Her grandmother sat down opposite at the kitchen table, stirring a spoonful of sugar into hers thought­fully. 'Your grandfather's gone to bed,' she said. 'He's feeling tired and a bit ashamed of himself.'

  'So he should be,' Zoe replied stiffly.

  'I know,' Janet sighed softly, 'but when you didn't return we got terribly worried. By this morning your grandfather was nearly beside himself, and I'm afraid Mr Macadam's message didn't help much. Oh, it was good to know you were safe, but Mr Macadam made it sound as if there'd been little to prevent you from getting back if you'd tried.'

  'But you've no idea what it was like!' Zoe protested. 'The storm was dreadful!'

  'Well, I believe we must have missed the worst of it,' Janet said gently, as Zoe paused. 'I was talking to Bill McGregor a few minutes ago and he said it was bad farther out. But your grandfather was in a rare state by this evening, child.'

  'You can say that again!' Zoe exclaimed, in no mood to be pacified. 'Oh, Gran, you should have seen him! In front of all the men he practically forced Reece to promise to marry me!'

  Janet's face was almost as pale as her grandaughter's. 'So he tells me,' she whispered. 'However,' she went on more firmly, 'the men are good and loyal. No more will be heard of it. Your grandfather has relented, he won't force anyone to do anything. He will be seeing Mr Macadam tomorrow and apologise for his hastiness. There won't be any wedding.'

  Zoe got up early to go to the office and, as she came downstairs, she saw a note lying on the floor beside the front door. It was from Reece, requesting her to stay at home as he would be away all day. He would see her in the morning. It was signed, yours, as ever, Reece Macadam.

  He must have left it hours ago, because she had been awake for ages and heard no sound. Where had he gone? she wondered. She read the note again while drinking a cup of tea and nibbling halfheartedly at a slice of toast. She still felt too worried to enjoy eating anything.

  Her grandfather had come to her room last night and had been full of remorse. He swore he had never intended challenging Reece as he had done. He had lost his temper and was sorry. He would see Reece as soon as he could in the morning and put things right. He confirmed what he had said to Janet about there being no need for a wedding. If Zoe saw Reece, he said, before he did, she could tell him so.

  How could she tell Reece if she didn't know where to find him? Cold with unhappiness and tension, she pondered. She had passed a terrible night, despite her grandfather's reassurances that all would be well, and she felt dreadful. It was almost too much of an effort to think.

  Eventually she left Reece's note for Taggart to read. It would save him making an unnecessary journey to the yard. To the bottom of it she added a brief message of her own, that she'd decided to go in anyway, to deal with the backlog of correspondence, but wouldn't be long. Secretly she nursed a vague hope that Reece might have changed his mind about going away and be there, after all. The news she had for him was burning her up, she didn't know if it would keep until tomor­row.

  He wasn't at the office. His room was empty andsilent. Zoe looked at his chair and sat down in it briefly with tears in her eyes. The men behaved exactly as Reece said they would. They spoke to her as though nothing unusual had happened. Reece's yacht bobbed gently in its berth in the pale morning sunshine, she found it difficult to even glance at it. Ian returned from his long weekend surprised to find Reece absent. Zoe merely said he was out for the day, she didn't know where, but Ian didn't ask any questions. After dealing with the mail, as far as she could, she left before he grew curious.

  She spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly. Hopefully she rang Reece's house during the after­noon, but received no answer and, although she walked the length of the town several times, she didn't bump into him anywhere.

  After another restless night, Zoe rose early again and hurried to the boatyard. Reece was there, as he had said he would be but for a few moments she had diffi­culty in believing it. Her heart raced and the achi
ng emptiness inside her became an actual pain.

  'Reece!' she exclaimed breathlessly. Please let him be kind to me, she prayed.

  'Zoe!' He glanced up from his desk with familiar disapproval. 'Must you rush around like a schoolgirl? 1 would rather my future wife conducted herself with a little more dignity.'

  'Your future—what?' Ian asked behind her. 'You heard,' said Reece, seeming pleased at Ian's angry dismay, if nothing else. Ignoring the silent, frantic message Zoe was trying to convey, he en­lightened Ian smoothly, 'It happened over the week-end. Now, if you'll excuse us, I'd like a private word with my fiancee. And a chance to kiss her good-morn-ing,' he added, as the door closed.

  'Have you no sense!' Zoe snapped, as Ian's footsteps receded. Agitated beyond reason, she glared at Reece.

  'I tried to find you all yesterday to tell you grand­father's relented. You don't have to marry me any more. He lost his temper.'

  For an answer, if it was one, Reece rose, jerking her to him, and a peculiar sensation of alarmed confusion widened her eyes. Time stood still as his arms tight­ened and his mouth touched her own. For the first few moments the pressure he exerted was light and warm. Then he pressed her closer and his mouth seemed to burn her like a brand, as if he was determined to stamp his ownership once and for all. Her head spinning, she was aware of his rising desire which her shameless body seemed bent on satisfying. Her arms had some­ how found their way round his neck and she

  clinging to him.

  With a strangled cry she pulled herself free, groping, like a young animal suddenly blinded, towards the window and the light. She turned to face him with the advantage of a few moments' respite. Her voice was cool, she had control of herself again.

  'Didn't you hear what I said?' she asked.

  'My hearing, I suppose, is average,' he taunted. 'At least, I hope so, since you've chosen to remove yourself to such a distance.'

  Why had she this feeling he was playing for time? 'You're free,' she repeated. 'My grandfather's changed his mind.'

  'But I haven't changed mine,' Reece jeered, anger smouldering softly in his eyes. 'We're engaged and that's that! If you think I'm turning my life upside down a second time, you're mistaken.'

  'Oh, don't be so silly!' Zoe was so aggravated she almost stamped her small foot. 'It concerns me as well as you. It's not just what you like! Besides . . .' she snatched desperately at the first thing to cross her mind to support her argument, 'Besides, you don't love me.

  'So we're back to that, are we?' he mocked. 'Love,my child, is wasted energy. It simply makes me ache in the most inconvenient places.'

  'You've been—you are in love?' she faltered, not willing to believe it.

  'For some time,' his face went cynically grim, 'but the lady doesn't love me. I've tried about everything and nothing works, so I've decided to get married without it.'

  His change of mood caught her by surprise and the flush of anger faded from her cheeks. Reece didn't know she loved him. He wouldn't think he was doing her any real harm by marrying her, but how could she possibly marry him, especially now that she knew he loved someone else? Lord, what a mix-up!

  'We won't do so badly, Zoe,' he coaxed softly, crossing to her and taking hold of her with a slight grin. 'You're beautiful, I'm handsome . ...'

  She jerked away from him again—not because she wanted to but because she couldn't trust herself not to respond to the gentler note in his voice. He couldn't be too much in love with another woman if he could lease her like this, could he? All the same, the temptation to fall weakly into his arms was not to be con­sidered.

  'Please, Reece,' her eyes unconsciously pleaded with him, 'we aren't engaged any more.'

  'My darling,' he jeered, his voice low and taunting, 'we are. It's going to be in all the papers this morning. Why do you think I was in Edinburgh yesterday?'

  'So that's where you were?'

  'After I'd seen the minister and fixed a date for our wedding here. Exactly a month from last Monday.'

  Zoe stared at him incredulously. 'Now I know you're mad! And why this obsession with a month?' She felt near hysterics. 'Why not tomorrow or next year!'

  Reece didn't lose his temper, as hers rose, as normally he might. 'Wait and see,' was all he said.

  A net was closing in on her. She couldn't understand his attitude. He was ignoring every protest she made. 'If only I'd seen you yesterday!' she groaned, 'Why did you go to Edinburgh? You didn't have to. If you felt it was necessary, you could have contacted the newspapers about our engagement over the phone.'

  'I went to see my parents.'

  'Your—parents?'

  'I do have some, you know,' he said quietly, 'same as our children are going to have. A father and mother.'

  Her heart lurched. How cruel could you get? As things were between them, children wouldn't be pos­sible. 'Why did you see them?' she asked. 'Was it merely that you were there—coincidence?'

  'No coincidence,' he shook his head. 'I went to tell them personally about our engagement before putting the notice in the papers. It was the right thing to do.'

  When had that ever worried him? Zoe glared at him suspiciously, her nerves tense. He was too suave. One would think he was planning a campaign! 'And?' she prompted woodenly, sure there was more to come.

  There was. 'They're coming here tomorrow to meet you. It's all arranged. They're looking forward to it.'

  She was sure! 'Well, how nice for—for somebody.' Another time she might have been ashamed of the carping note in her voice but, right now, she didn't care. 'I thought you weren't friends?'

  'We're not, but on occasions like this one must ob-serve the priorities.'

  'Hypocrite!' she hissed.

  'I always appreciate your frank opinion,' Reece smiled unperturbed, magnificently impregnable, breathtakingly masculine in black sweater and pants. 'Only I hope it won't always be as frank.'

  Was he warning her, threatening? She didn't carefor the glint in his eyes. 'My grandfather will be arriv­ing at any minute,' she remembered desperately, her mind swinging off at a tangent, drunkenly.

  'No,' Reece had yet another move worked out be­forehand, too quick for her, 'I sent word, forbidding him to come. I'm meeting him at his house instead— I'm on my way there now, to see both him and your grandmother. While you occupy yourself here,' he added, 'there's plenty to do.'

  Zoe was overcome by panic. 'I can't stay here! I have to go with you. If I don't you'll talk them into seeing things your way . . .'

  'If you attempt to come with me I'll tie you in that chair,' he flicked a hand at it, 'and lock the door. I'll also gag you and block the keyhole, in case our Mr Graham gets curious.'

  'You can't!' Suddenly she had a horrible feeling he could. 'Oh, Reece,' she cried, 'please be sensible. We can't get married!'

  Suddenly he had her by the shoulders and she didn't doubt again that he was serious. 'Listen/to me, Zoe Kerr,' he said grimly, 'you got me into this and if you think you're going to avoid going through with it then you're mistaken. I don't intend to be made to look a fool twice. Besides, as I think I've already mentioned, I could do with a convenient wife.'

  A strange emotion rose inside her, nothing she couldimmediately identify, a mixture of resentment andsurrender, rolled into one. His fingers dug into hershoulders and his face was dark and taut. Her hearttrembled frighteningly, as the chains which bound herto him seemed to tighten. 'I think I'm the one who'strapped,' she exclaimed, with bitter emphasis.

  Reece merely shrugged and let go of her.

  'Will—will your parents be staying long?' she asked dully, watching him prepare to leave.

  'Probably a week. Then no more until the wedding.'

  'A—a week!' Zoe wished she could stop stammering. 'Where will they stay? At your house?'

  'My dear mother,' Reece drawled, 'wouldn't be caught dead in it. Not now. No, she booked in im­mediately at her favourite hotel. We're all dining to­gether tomorrow evening.'

  'All?' Zoe swallowed distractedly
. 'Who's all, for heaven's sake?'

  He looked back over his shoulder as he went out. 'Who do you think? The two of us, two of them and your grandparents.'

  It was really incredible, Zoe thought unhappily, not for the first time, what Reece Macadam achieved when he set his mind to it. He should have been a P.R. man. Not only had he managed to convince Taggart that his untimely intervention had merely precipitated plans Reece had already made to marry Zoe, he had also per­suaded both her grandparents that it was what Zoe wanted herself. On top of this he had talked them into having dinner with his parents, with presumably little effort. Zoe could see they were pleased that everything was settled and, without hurting them, there seemed nothing she could do but give in gracefully. That, she decided, she would do for the moment, while never allowing herself to believe the marriage would ever take place.