'Oh no,' she said hastily. 'No, I'm not!' But she thought her voice betrayed her and hoped desperately that he hadn't noticed the slight quiver in it. 'I... I'm sorry about your grandfather. You didn't have very long with him.'
'No. I'm sorry about your father—I didn't really get a chance at the funeral. It must have come as an awful shock.'
Clarissa averted her eyes. 'It did. But he was very unhappy, so... I mean, I don't think he ever got over Ian.'
'He had you,' Rob pointed out.
'Well, yes...' She bit her lip and looked up at him, thinking fleetingly, but it wasn't what he really wanted, like you ... And she blushed suddenly as she remembered wondering what it would be like to be kissed by Rob.
He observed all this in silence, and she got the horrible feeling he could see into her mind and she was about to turn away when he dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a flat velvet box, saying abruptly, 'I brought you a present. I hope it's not too young for you.'
It was a silver charm bracelet and each charm was an exquisitely worked miniature horse—a racehorse complete with tiny jockey, a drover on horseback with a sheepdog at foot, a dancing stallion, a gypsy horse with a hat on, and even one that looked just like Holly Kingston.
'Oh!' breathed Clarissa, turning the charms over in her Angers. 'Oh no! Why should it be too young for me? Where did you get all these horses?'
'I had it specially made,' Rob said rather somberly, his blue eyes resting fleetingly on the shadow between
her breasts that the heart-shaped bodice revealed and the filmy cape was not, at that moment, covering. 'Then you're still mad about horses?' he asked, his gaze coming back to rest on her face.
'Oh. I see what you mean,' she said, looking up ruefully. 'But I think I might always be that.'
He said, 'I'm glad.'
'I'd like to wear it now. I...’
'Here, let me put it on. I don't know if it goes with your finery. Diamonds or pearls might have been a better choice.'
‘I don't care. It's the nicest present I've had since Holly Kingston herself. She's had two foals, you know. No, you don't, of course—how silly of me!'
'Clarry,' said Rob compellingly, his fingers still about her wrist, and she looked up again. 'I'm sorry. I thought it was for the best.'
Clarissa went quite still and stared into his eyes. Then she drew herself up with unconscious dignity. 'Oh, it was,' she said very quietly. 'I understand that. All the same, thank you for this. I... think I ought to be going in now.'
'Why, there you are, Clarissa,' said Narelle, coming up to them quite silently. 'I wondered what had become of you. It is your party, darling,’ she said gaily, ‘so make the best of it! And in the meantime I'll take care of Rob.'
In fact, Rob didn't stay very long after that, and Clarissa didn't know whether to be relieved or sad, which she was anyway. Nor was her state of mind helped by the fact that her mother told her afterwards that they would be moving to Sydney for the next few months, that her debut into society had only just begun. Clarissa also detected an unusual air about her
mother which bothered her slightly and was hard to explain, beyond saying that it was like a flash of her mother's old brilliance which had, she suddenly realised, been a little doused lately.
She went to sleep that night with the charm bracelet under her pillow and tears on her cheeks.
The ensuing months assumed nightmare proportions for Clarissa. True to her word, her mother exposed her to society on every possible occasion, and dressed her superbly. But by this time Clarissa had begun to be aware that all was not well. She overheard guarded telephone conversations her mother had with accountants and solicitors, by the sound of it. She worried about what was happening to Mirrabilla with no one at the helm, so to speak. She asked her mother about these things, only to be told not to worry her pretty head about it. And in the meantime, she went to parties and balls and luncheons and the races, and worried about that too. She was not, she knew, the kind of social animal her mother was, as Ian might have said, but this 'season' seemed to be her mother's dearest wish for her, so she tried—she really tried.
She saw very little of Rob which again made her sad and glad. And not only because on the odd occasions their paths did cross, he was always with some beautiful, sophisticated woman but also because she was so uneasy and uncomfortable within, however hard she tried at being a budding young socialite, although she had assumed a veneer of sophistication herself to cope with it all, especially the attention she received from men.
It was odd how few people realized that her sociability was barely skin deep.
It was unfortunate, as it turned out, that Robert
Randall should have been on hand when it deserted her.
The occasion was a charity ball. Clarissa went with a party and she wore an off-the-shoulder gown in a colour that resembled pale, orangey moonlight. Her mother was to have gone, being one of the organizers, but had developed a streaming head cold.
Amongst Clarissa's party was James Halliday, wealthy, quite a lot older than her, amusing although sometimes rather disturbingly cynical, and unattached. He was also very much interested in Clarissa.
She had noticed this and contrived to keep him at arm's length—something which made him more and more interested. On the whole, however, he had played his hand quite cleverly, but it had never once dawned on him that Clarissa was unaware of the strength of the attraction she held for him.
So that, on the night of the ball, when she seemed to be more maddeningly cool than ever, he quite uncharacteristically lost his head. He thought her extra coolness was all part of the ploy and, with some wryness that it was succeeding.
He didn't know that Clarissa in fact thought she was being quite nice to him. She had danced with him and tried to concentrate her thoughts on his amusing conversation. She even, now, allowed him to dance her outside on to the ballroom balcony. She even smiled up at him, then turned away to study the moonlight over the Harbor, and to wonder who the new woman with Rob was. He hadn't introduced her when they'd met briefly, but Clarissa had noticed almost everything about her which, put into a nutshell, read striking, intelligent-looking and very sophisticated.
It was while she was thinking these thoughts, standing in the moonlight in her dress that was nearly
the same colour, that James Halliday lost his head.
'All right,' he drawled, putting a hand on her bare shoulder and turning her towards him, 'if it's marriage you're after, you've got it. As soon as you’d like. But in the meantime, this
He actually surprised himself considerably with these words, which was why he might not have noticed the look of stunned shock in Clarissa's eyes as he drew her into his arms and began to kiss her passionately.
She didn't resist for a moment, then she wrenched her mouth away, protesting, 'No ... you don't understand!'
But James Halliday at that moment understood several things. That her cool young lips drove him mad, that the feel of her slender body in his arms confirmed what he had already known—to be the master of it promised incredible delights, that for once her mother wasn't hovering in attendance ... that if the price tag for Clarissa included Mirrabilla, as it was rumored, he would pay up gladly.
So it came as a most unpleasant shock to him, after he had overpowered Clarissa completely, torn her dress and rendered her numb with terror and breathless and bruised, to feel an iron hand on his shoulder, and to hear someone commanding him to let her go in such disgusted freezing accents that he did.
It came as a worse shock to find himself staring into Robert Randall's cold, very blue eyes.
But to crown it all, Clarissa stumbled into her rescuer's arms as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
All of which dealt his ego a massive blow, and it took him a few dazed moments before he could come up with a way to set that to rights.
'Well, well,' he said slowly, then, his thoughts skimming the rumors associated with Clarissa, 'what have we here
? Sir Galahad? Or, a higher bidder? But that's strange, isn't it? Doesn't make sense. I should have thought her mother would have handed...' But he didn't finish what he was saying, because a look of such menace entered those blue eyes, he suddenly thought better of it and turning on his heel made a rather swift exit.
‘Oh, Rob!' wept Clarissa, only vaguely aware of what had been said in her distress and finding it incomprehensible anyway. 'I had no idea... he asked me to marry him—I think. Then he,' she swallowed, 'kissed me, and he wouldn't listen or stop...’
'You shouldn't have been out here on your own with him, Clarry,' Rob said abruptly.
'But I didn't expect...' Something in his tone made her lift her head, and what she saw added further cause for misery. Because it was obvious Rob was still very angry, and it had to be with her.
'I'm sorry,' she whispered, her lips trembling again and her face flushed beneath tendrils of hair, which had escaped from her upswept, hair-do. 'I suppose this reminds you of all the other times I've needed to be consoled. I don't seem to learn, do I?'
'This—isn't quite like those others.'
'No, worse, I guess.' She tried to smile. 'Just, plain foolish this time. But I won't keep you any longer. I'll be all right now.'
He made an impatient sound. 'Do you seriously believe I'd leave you like this? Where's your mother?'
'A-at home, in bed,' Clarissa stammered. 'She's got a cold.'
'Which is precisely where you should be,' Rob said grimly.
'Oh, she didn't mind me leaving her! In fact she wanted me to come.'
He said drily, 'I can imagine. Listen, have you got everything you came with?'
'I ... only came with this.' She looked around dazedly and discovered her evening purse on the floor.
Then stay here.' He bent down to pick it up and handed it to her. 'I'll be right back.'
‘Rob...' she began.
But he was gone. And before Clarissa had a chance to come to any other decision he was back and he took her arm in a firm grip, saying, 'Home for you, Miss Kingston, whether you like it or not.'
Clarissa sat in his car as they glided through the streets of Sydney, with her face averted and her mind in a terrible state of turmoil... Happy as she was to have been rescued from James Halliday's clutches, why had it to be Rob? After months of—well, not exactly ignoring her, what unkind trick of fate had prompted him to come out on to the verandah just then? To find her in such a humiliating situation ... With the net result that she now felt like a chastened, troublesome schoolgirl. But what hurt her most was the thought that somehow she'd managed to get thoroughly out of step with Rob, the person she most valued and loved. How? she wondered unhappily. After that night of my eighteenth birthday, I've stayed out of his way as he seemed to want, I've not acted foolishly—I don't think. I mean, I had no idea James was ... thinking that. And all I've longed for is some sign from Rob that he understands I know I'm too young for him and would just like to be a friend again...
Tears trembled on her lashes and she blinked furiously without moving her head. But they continued to fall silently, dairy.'
She wouldn't look at him. 'Yes?'
'Oh hell,' Rob muttered softly, and pulled the car off the road and switched the motor off. 'Look at me, Clarry.'
She turned her head at last, and he closed his eyes briefly, and then reached out a hand to brush away her tears. 'Did he hurt you?'
She said uncertainly, 'I don't think so.'
'Clarry,' he pulled a large white handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it to her, 'you told me once that your greatest ambition when you left school was to help run Mirrabilla. Have you changed your mind?'
She stared at him. 'If only you knew how much I long to be doing just that,' she said huskily.
'Then why aren't you?' he countered.
'My mother...' she began.
'Why don't you put your foot down, Clarry, and tell her what you want?'
'I ... I've tried to, but ... oh, Rob, I think Mirrabilla is in terrible trouble. And anyway, she really wants me to ... to be doing this.'
'And you don't have the slightest idea why it should be so important to her, do you?' he said after a pause during which his eyes had narrowed.
Clarissa frowned. 'She's doing it for me. Sort of— launching me, I suppose.'
He laughed. 'She's doing that all right! Up a creek without a paddle.'
Clarissa sat in hurt, uncomprehending silence. Until Rob said, T didn't realize you knew about Mirrabilla's problems.'
‘I don't really,' she whispered. 'Do you?'
'Not as much as I should, by the look of it,' he said cryptically.
'Actually, after your father died I did ask her whether she needed any help in sorting things out. She refused and gave me to understand there were no problems. But lately—well, I've been hearing all sorts of rumors. Do you realize that you and she are joint shareholders in the property?'
'I don't see what difference that makes.'
'I think I — do.' And he added something beneath his breath that sounded suspiciously like,'... Hell and damnation!'
Which caused Clarissa to close her eyes miserably, but what he said next was so unexpected, she couldn't believe her ears.
if it had been me tonight, Clarry, who asked you to marry me, would you have said yes?'
Her blue-grey eyes widened incredulously and her lips parted. Then she thought he must be playing some sort of an unkind joke on her and said with every scrap of youthful dignity she could muster, i don't think that's very funny.'
'Neither do I,' he murmured gravely but with a shadow of a smile in his eyes, in fact I'm deadly serious, Clarry.'
'Rob,' she whispered, 'you... you can't be. You told me—at least you made it very clear that I shouldn't... well, think of you like that.' She blushed painfully.
'Clarry, you were very young, and little girls have been known to change their minds once they've had a chance to spread their wings.'
'But ... but,' she stammered, 'for months you've been ignoring me and
'On the contrary.'
'What do you mean?' she whispered.
Rob touched her mouth with his fingertips, ‘I've been very much aware of all your doings, Clarry. I guess you could say—I've been waiting for you.'
Clarissa closed her eyes, suddenly breathless and quite speechless. But she made an effort after a minute or two. 'But I'm so different from all the — ladies I've seen you with.'
He said, i know. Perhaps that's what I love about you.'
'Oh, Rob!' she breathed, and started to cry again, ‘I can't believe this. I thought—I really thought you didn't want to have any more to do with me, and it's made me so miserable I could have died!'
He cupped her chin in his hand and for a moment his eyes were very somber and intent. Then, as she caught her breath, he smiled, and said, 'That's all I wanted to know.' And kissed her.
The opposition Clarissa encountered from her mother was as unexpected as it was inexplicable.
She hadn't told her that night, mainly because her mother had been sleepy and woolly-headed but also because she had wanted to hug the knowledge to herself for a bit longer.
But the next morning she stared helplessly at her mother's suddenly white face which seemed not to have anything to do with her cold, for it was much improved this morning, and said, 'Well, I've always loved him so...’
'Clarissa, you're not yet nineteen. How can you know that?'
'Because I just do.' Clarissa eyed her mother bewilderedly. 'Anyway, you were only saying the other day that you approved of early marriages.'
'Some ... oh God!'
'Oh, Mum. I wish you could be happy for me. Don't you like Rob?'
Narelle sat down shakily. 'How long has this been going on for?' she asked abruptly.
'Since I was six, probably...’
'No, I mean have you been seeing him behind my back?'
'No.'
'Then I don't understand!'
'He said he'
s been waiting for me,' Clarissa told her.
Narelle stared at her. Then she started to laugh, but it was a somehow chilling sound. And finally she said, 'Oh, hell’
‘Mum. ..?' queried Clarissa.
'Clarissa, do me a favor. Just leave me alone for a little while.'
Clarissa Kingston became Clarissa Randall in a private, morning ceremony, which her mother attended, giving no sign at all that she had ever opposed the marriage. In fact, after her first confusing reaction, she had shown a change of heart that had been equally bewildering, and had been absolutely charming to Rob. She had even given in to Clarissa's wish for a very quiet wedding.
They were married one week before Clarissa's nineteenth birthday, and spent their honeymoon in Western Samoa, a beautiful South Pacific island with an age-old Polynesian culture. They flew direct, and on the thirty-odd-kilometer drive from Faleolo Airport to Aggie Grey's famous hotel, Clarissa was immediately enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking, and they passed native huts with beehive roofs, churches and the locals bathing in fresh pools.
'I thought you'd like it,' said Rob, eyeing her shining face. 'No hustle and bustle, charming people—tranquility personified.'
Clarissa closed her eyes and sniffed luxuriously. 'It even smells beautiful and peaceful. And I feel as if I've stepped right into Tales of the South Pacific or that I might bump into Robert Louis Stevenson or Somerset Maugham!'
He laughed. 'You've obviously done your homework!'
But that evening, after they'd dined and were strolling in the moonlight, it occurred to Clarissa that one area of her homework, if it could be called that, had been neglected. Because all of a sudden she found herself feeling astonishingly nervous. And for the simple reason that she still hadn't got past the point of imagining herself being kissed and held, although she enjoyed both of these things very much. Especially the way Rob did it—very gently and with not the slightest sign of that bruising, impassioned fervor James Halliday had employed.
All the same, her stream of enthusiastic chatter dried up at the thought of what lay ahead.
'Clarry,' queried Rob after a while, 'what's wrong?'
The Heart of the Matter Page 5