The Gift of Loving

by Wilson, Patricia

  'It is a golden trap though, mademoiselle,' he assured her. 'I intend to be kind to you. Do not make that promise impossible to keep. There will be no need to fight me.'

  'I'm not suitable... Why did you choose me?' Lucy asked tremulously.

  He leaned back in his seat and looked at her coolly.

  'My choices were limited, mademoiselle. There are many women who would have been willing to become the Comtesse de Chauvrais but they would be world-wise, greedy, determined to cling to the reality of their position here in France. You are innocent and fresh, very anxious to leave. I do not want a woman clinging to me; they have clung before and showed their faithlessness later. My life is my

  own. It is my intention to remain free. You are most suitable. All you require is a few days of instruction and a little more poise.'

  'You can't give me enough poise to be a countess,' Lucy said desperately, hoping he would even now change his mind. He was not about to do so.

  'Poise will only be required in social gatherings and they will be few. At other times you may be yourself. You amuse me as you are.

  It will pass the time more quickly.'

  'What you need is a clown!' Lucy said heatedly, desperation giving her courage.

  'I need you and I have you,' he assured her harshly. 'Go to bed.

  Tomorrow we go home.'

  'I haven't got a home.' She looked at him stubbornly and he frowned alarmingly.

  'You have a home with me until my child is old enough to be left,'

  he grated.

  'You haven't got a child, monsieur,' Lucy said with some satisfaction, her head tilted proudly, her mind wriggling about trying to come up with a suitable plan of escape.

  'Not yet,' he agreed. 'But that is the point of the exercise, is it not,

  mademoiselle? If I did not need an heir, I would not need you. You would be in a police car at this moment with your aunt. When you are thinking resentfully of me, remember that without her I would not have been able to capture you. Consider the two crimes and decide which of us is the more guilty of cruelty.'

  'You're both as bad!' Lucy muttered, her moment of pride shattered.

  'Tell me that in two years' time,' he murmured as he led her to the door. 'My chateau near Paris is warm and comfortable, surrounded by gardens. Accept things gracefully and you will be happy.'

  'I'm going to hate you!' Lucy threatened as she went off up the dark stairs. He said nothing at all and when she glanced back he was still watching her, his dark eyes brooding and still, fathomless and cold.

  Nothing would make him change his mind, she knew that. She had to make some plan of her own. To really agree to his plan was unthinkable.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IN SPITE of a near-sleepless night Lucy had no plan next morning. It was as if she was being swept up into something she had no control of at all. They left the chateau, some of the staff leaving too and others remaining to remove all signs of their occupancy.

  The servants were now much more normal-looking, all except Madame Gatien who appeared to have been born with an icy expression that was never to leave her face. The smiles in Lucy's direction from the other servants surprised her until Guy drily pointed out the reason.

  'They are now content that their discomfort has been worth while since it has given me a romantic interlude with my future wife,' he informed Lucy in a taunting voice. 'They feel part of the liaison.'

  Lucy looked hastily away. 'Do you normally keep them abreast of your affairs?'

  'News travels fast in the servants' quarters. I announced my intentions in front of those serving dinner. It removed the necessity of a more formal introduction. They now know you are to be the new Comtesse de Chauvrais. You will be treated accordingly.'

  They were alone in the car, travelling swiftly towards Paris.

  Veronique had left the night before, unable, it seemed, to bear even one more night in the Chateau de Rochaine, and Lucy would not have wanted her there. Since Guy's sudden announcement, Veronique had been looking at her with concern and Lucy knew why. She would never be suitable; the looks said everything.

  Madame Gatien was of the same opinion if her looks were to be believed.

  'You know that this is all ridiculous and that I won't be able to cope, don't you?' She gave a small sigh, her head turned firmly to the window and away from the count.

  'You know the consequences of trying to back out of this deal,' he rasped, the quiet mockery leaving him instantly.

  'I'm not trying to back out,' Lucy informed him tightly. 'I know I'm trapped. What I'm saying is that I won't be able to cope.'

  'Necessity is the mother of invention. You will manage because you must. In any case, I will be there, right beside you.'

  'Is that supposed to calm me?' Lucy enquired angrily, turning on him. 'It's the most threatening thing I can think of.'

  'I can think of prison. That sounds much more threatening to me.' He was silent for a long time and then he glanced at her in exasperation.

  'Stop fighting me, Lucinda. You will come out of this very well and I need you. I need you enough to be very generous.'

  'You've bought me, you mean?' Lucy muttered bitterly. He flared into rage, stopped the car and glared at her furiously.

  'No! I have trapped you, captured you and I have done it very easily.

  The wealth and the title will be yours when you have produced my child, then I will have bought you! The way you behave leads me to believe that I will have paid very dearly for you. Did I not dislike your aunt so roundly, I would sympathise with her. You should have been beaten, perhaps, when you were a child. Maybe I will beat you!'

  'I'd like to see you try!' Lucy turned on him with eyes like saucers, sparks flashing from the deep blue. He glared at her for a second longer and then began to laugh quietly, his face lighting up with amusement.

  'This child of ours will take some controlling. You have a temper to match my own.' He suddenly pulled her forward and kissed her roughly on the mouth. 'You little shrew,' he murmured against her lips.

  She pulled frantically away and he let her go, straightening up and starting the car again.

  'Don't kiss me!' she said in a small furious voice, rising panic at the back of it, but his laughter was still there.

  '1 will only kiss you when it is necessary,' he assured her with a glittering sidelong glance at her flushed face. 'At that moment the servants passed in the estate car. They will now be assuring themselves that their discomfort was all worth while. The French,

  ma chere, are a very romantic race. There is another estate car not too far behind with the rest of the staff in it. Annoy me further and I will give them also the delight of a demonstration of affection.'

  Lucy huddled into her corner and it seemed to give him a great deal of sardonic satisfaction. He glanced at her tightly clenched hands and his low laughter shivered right through her body.

  'Even someone as prim and old-fashioned as you must realise that some sort of physical contact will be necessary eventually.'

  Lucy didn't know whether he was trying to embarrass her or be carefully sensible. It was as well to imagine the worst with Guy Chabrol.

  'I don't want to talk about it,' she said tightly. It wasn't going to happen anyway. The closer to Paris the better she would feel.

  Escape would be at hand.

  'You prefer to keep your mind comfortably blank? It :s unwise. It would be better to grow accustomed to being held and kissed.'

  'In case the shock kills me?' Lucy retorted, her face turned firmly away. 'I'm quite sure you like this no better than I do so let's not pretend, monsieur'

  'Guy,' he corrected firmly. 'You cannot go on calling your future husband monsieur. It will astonish Veronique. As to my feelings, I have explained that it is necessity. However, I do not mind kissing you. I do not find you repulsive, as I have pointed out. Accept things calmly.'

  'Maybe I can be hypnotised!' Lucy snapped, moving uncomfortably in her seat. 'I'll give it some thou
ght. Meanwhile, monsieur, I would like it very much if you either changed the subject or kept silent.'

  'Very well.' He sighed wearily. 'You are not making things easy, Lucinda.'

  'You've not made things easy for me!'

  'I have tried,' he assured her quietly.

  He took her advice and kept silent and Lucy turned away, biting her lip and asking herself who was really to blame for this state of affairs. Wanda's name came immediately to her mind. It was her aunt who had got her into this predicament. Even that wasn't strictly true. If she hadn't jumped at the chance to leave her job she would never have been anywhere near France, would never have even met Guy Chabrol.

  She felt a small twinge of unease as she realised that she would not have liked that at all. He was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her in her whole life. She was more alive than she had ever been. If only he could have been normal!

  She sighed, her shoulders falling from their tense stance and he glanced across at her.

  'Pauvre petite,' he murmured softly. 'I am sorry that you find yourself in this trap. I cannot release you, because you are perfect, necessary for my plans. I will be kind. Do not fear the future so much.'

  'I'm not afraid,' Lucy said coldly. 'I'm just thinking my own thoughts.'

  'See that they do not run to escape,' he murmured darkly. 'Try that and you will have cause for fear!'

  Lucy turned her head away to hide her eyes, but her mind still saw him and her lips still felt his kisses. It was all impossible, mad!

  With Paris not yet in sight Guy turned the car off the motorway and headed across country. So his house near Paris was a country house?

  Providing that it was not as forbidding as the country of the Chateau de Rochaine it would be better than any bright lights for Lucy. She cheered up and looked out at the trees. She would be able to cope much better in a normal house, until she could get away.

  Guy seemed to be quite content to drive and say nothing at all and Lucy gave all her attention to the village they reached. It stretched along the road sleepily, a few shops, a few houses with small gardens and nothing more. It looked reasonably boring, perfectly safe.

  He turned in at huge gates and the thought of safety vanished as she recognised the crest that had been all too obvious at the forbidding Chateau de Rochaine.

  His glance flashed to her as she gasped in dismay.

  'It is not like the Chateau de Rochaine,' he snapped. 'You will find a great deal of comfort here—and warmth. The whole place is extremely modern.'

  Not if the colossal gates were anything to go by, Lucy thought. Her lips tightened at the thought but she couldn't keep them closed. As the 'house' came into sight she just stared and gasped again. It was another chateau and not on any cosy scale either.

  She began to count the windows at the front in an almost hysterical manner. There were thirty-two if you counted the ten nestling against the roof. It was white stone, quite beautiful, almost serene-looking. The front was heavily decorated with what appeared to be gold plate, but she couldn't quite make them out as they approached.

  She could see the wide front door standing open, though, and she dreaded going inside, a burning desire in her to refuse to get out of the car.

  'Not at all forbidding.' Guy seemed to be greatly pleased with himself and obviously glad to be back. 'It is, as I said, a very comfortable house.'

  'It's a great museum of a place!' Lucy snapped. 'Just take a good close look at me, monsieur! How do you think I can even begin to cope in such a place? What sort of Comtesse de Chauvrais do you imagine I'll make?'

  'I will turn you into a countess!' He stopped the car and glared down at her. 'You will call me Guy and not monsieur. We are to be married very soon. As to your appearance, I informed you some time ago that with a visit to the beauty salon and a few expensive clothes you will pass for the real thing—at least, you will manage to do it for the short time that is necessary.'

  'Of course I won't!'

  Lucy looked at him scornfully, too annoyed to be scared for the moment, and he frowned down at her with a great deal of black annoyance.

  'As you have no choice, you will manage perfectly well,' he assured her harshly. 'My plans are made and they include you. Your only alternative is prison—comfortably beside your aunt!'

  He was not about to relent and Lucy looked away, back at the house.

  Since he had trapped her she had not really believed the whole thing deeply. This sort of melodrama didn't happen to people except in films. Her sensible mind had assured her of that and she had felt she was just playing along, almost humouring him as if he were some sort of lunatic.

  'I've done nothing at all to deserve this,' she reminded him quietly.

  'I'm sure that deep down you don't mean it to happen. I just can't face it, any of it. Please, let me go, and I'll simply disappear out of your life altogether. I'll not even think of contacting my aunt. I'll keep quiet and just—just go home.'

  'What home?' he enquired coldly. 'You have no home. The only thing you most assuredly possess is a criminal relative. I would be willing to guess that you do not even have with you the price of the rail fare into Paris, not to speak of the cost of the flight to England from there. Whether you do or not, however, I have decided what your future will be and you have agreed. You will not be allowed to slide out of that agreement. All this is very important to me. You will finally leave France with a title and considerable wealth. As far as I can see it is a very honourable job and one that will benefit both of us.'

  'It—it's degrading!' Lucy said miserably, her face pale.

  'Dieu! Will you stop suggesting that?' he grated. 'It is an arranged marriage and nothing out of the ordinary even in this day and age.

  The only extraordinary thing is you and your childish attitude. I do not wish to speak of this again, mademoiselle!'

  'Are you going to go on calling me mademoiselle while I call you Guy?' Lucy asked waspishly, suddenly wanting to lash out at him.

  His brow darkened even further.

  'If my plans were not so well made and if I had not already announced our marriage I would fly you to England myself and turn you loose!' he bit out furiously. 'It is quite clear that you have no intention of submitting to this with even one ounce of dignity. You intend to pester and complain throughout our association like a spoiled child!'

  'Quite right. I do!' Lucy snapped. 'I intend to kick up a fuss from beginning to end of this ridiculous affair.

  I'm not at all sure that it's not criminal either. It seems to me that I'm being blackmailed. You, Monsieur le Comte, are a scoundrel and I'll fight every inch of the way, so don't talk to me about submitting with dignity. I won't submit at all and you can't make me!'

  She tossed her head defiantly and met astonished dark eyes. For a second he stared at her as if she had taken leave of her senses and then, to her annoyance, his eyes began to laugh. They were laughing long before the amusement touched those long, mobile lips.

  'Perhaps I will enjoy that better than if you continue to be a rather boring mouse-like creature,' he mused. 'As to not submitting—we will see, Lucinda.'

  'My name is Lucy and I'll not answer if you -'

  He jerked her forward and into his arms, his lips covering hers relentlessly, his strong hands subduing her struggles and she collapsed against him, breathless and tingling with shock, plucking feebly at his sleeve until she allowed the harsh warmth to envelope her and subsided into a sort of peace, her mouth willingly turned to

  his. He kissed her until there were stars swinging in front of her closed eyes.

  'Now will you be silent, little wretch?' he murmured as he lifted his head. 'It is not unpleasant to kiss you and it seems to be the only way I can either silence you or bring you to your senses.' He sat her up and started the car, completing the trip to the wide front doors, and Lucy folded her hands in her lap to stop them from trembling visibly, her soft lips set in a stubborn line even though she was burning up inside.
<
br />   His amused glance slid over her as they stopped at the door.

  'Flushed and bewildered,' he commented. 'Good. It is what the servants expect to see. They are much more astute than Veronique; she simply believes everything I tell her.'

  'Then she must be constantly deceived,' Lucy snapped. 'I'll see to it that she's kept up to date with things in future.'

  'Splendid! Spoken like a countess,' he taunted. 'You will soon be in charge here and quite resigned to your fate.'

  No way, Lucy thought bitterly and, as the first face she saw as they stepped inside was that of Madame Gatien, she had no doubts at all.

  The chateau did not take as much getting used to as the Chateau de Rochaine. Within the first day Lucy was very well orientated and spent SOME considerable time wandering around alone. With her safely captured Guy seemed to have reverted to his normal attitude of total lack of interest and she was sure Veronique suspected that this was no extraordinary love-match. In fact, she was at great pains to avoid Veronique altogether in case the feelings she had showed on her face, for her mind was still plotting escape.

  The gardens that fronted the chateau were formal and neat, long walks between well-clipped trees, small pools and orderly arrangements of flowers, but the back of the chateau was a delight.

  Here there was a small lake, partly overhung with trees and bushes, water-lilies at the edge and tall bulrushes making a secret trail along the south side nearest to the house. She lingered there the next day, her mind avoiding any thought of the future. The tight atmosphere of the previous evening had been more than enough.

  About to go back indoors, she stopped when she heard voices from the open window of the room that was Guy's study.

  "What exactly do you intend to do about Lucinda?'

  Veronique's voice was quite sharp. Obviously she had bearded Guy in his den—no mean task—no act for the faint-hearted.

  'I intend to marry her with some speed.' His voice dismissed the query impatiently.

  'Guy! She is not... I mean when you take a close look at her... Guy, she will not be suitable as she is. You must do something, take her in hand, alter her appearance. She is not in any way prepared. You must give her at least some resemblance of gloss—of chic.'