by Anne Weale
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE following week Miss Lancaster went to Edinburgh to stay with an invalid friend for a few days. On the morning after her departure, Mr. Alfred Cobble, the village handyman, arrived to paint the kitchen, and during breakfast David suggested that they should take a picnic lunch to the beach, leaving Hilda and Alfred to wrangle undisturbed. Jenny was delighted and rushed upstairs to collect her bathing things, but dare said she had better stay at home as she had not finished transcribing the last batch of notes, "Oh, leave them till later," Lancaster said carelessly. "We may as well make the most of this weather, and, in any case, you won't be able to concentrate once Hilda and Alfred start haranguing each other. She can't stand the old chap, although he's quite a competent decorator. By the way, have you heard from your brother yet?" "Yes, indirectly." She indicated the airmail envelope lying by her plate. "His right arm is bandaged, so a nurse has written for him. He seems very cheerful, and says he'll be out of hospital in about ten days." "Good. It's been a worrying time for you." "It would have been much worse if I had been in London. You've all been terribly kind," Clare said gratefully. David gave her a keen glance. He seemed about to say something and then changed his mind. By ten o'clock they were on the beach. ,, Jenny kicked off her sandals. "I'm going to swim. Race you in, Uncle David!" Both she and David had their bathing kit under their shirts and jeans, but Clare had to change. She watched them pelting down the beach before retiring behind a sand-dune to put on her own swimsuit. 95 He was very good with children, she reflected. It was a pity he had none of his own, for Jenny obviously adored him and, whatever he might be like with other people, he was unfailingly good-tempered and patient with his tomboy niece. But to have children one had to have a wife, and good-humour and patience were totally lacking in his attitude to women. By the time she had changed, they were out of the water and playing leap-frog. The sea was very warm, and, having waded in up to her waist, Clare duck-dived into a breaker, rolled on to her back and floated lazily downshore, enjoying the gentle rocking motion and the sunlight on her face. She was lost in an idle sea-dream when there was a commotion in the water beside her and Jenny's glistening head bobbed up. "Isn't it glorious! Practically boiling. I wish Josh wasn't such a wretched old landlubber. We've been trying to persuade him to come in, but he won't budge. Look!" They both trod water and dare saw that David was standing in the shallows making encouraging noises to the Boxer, which sat disdainfully at the water's edge, retreating hastily when a ripple spread too close to his paws.""It's no use: he just isn't a water-dog," David shouted. He moved into deeper water and swam towards them with a powerful crawl stroke. "Shall I fetch the beach ball. Uncle David?" "Yes, if you like, Toots." "There must be a fish in the family," dare said, watching the child swim away. "She's got a very strong stroke for her age." "Yes, she's a game little thing," David agreed. In spite of his casual tone there was a glint of affectionate pride in his eyes. [-'- He was standing chest-deep, his broad shoulders glistening in the sunlight. This is how a man should be, ;@.;dare thought suddenly. Not puny and pale and round-shouldered, but bronzed and straight and strong. HeIs half-turned to grasp a floating strand of sea-weed, and I? she saw the muscles tighten under his smooth brown "@" skin. Absorbed in aesthetic pleasure, she did not notice a ^breaker sweeping in from the sand-bar, and it swept her ; off balance. " "Are you all right?" A hand gripped her arm and she was pulled to the :" surface, the breath knocked out of her by the unexpected ' force of the wave. She nodded, gasping and coughing. "Now you see her, now you don't," he said, laughing. "How much did you swallow?" "It felt like. a gallon!" "Better now?" She nodded. "It was my own fault. I wasn't on the look-out." "M'm, it's an unpleasant feeling when a breaker crashes right on top of you like that." "Thanks for fishing me up." "Look out, here comes another one," he warned. Instinctively she clutched his arm for support, but the second wave broke before it reached them and swirled harmlessly past in a slackening flurry of foam. "We're in the wrong place. We should be either farther out or nearer the beach," he said. "Yes. I don't@@" Her voice tailed off as she met his eyes. Her heart began to beat in slow heavy thumps. A sensation that she had never felt before swept through her; a strange compound of fear and longing. Beneath the water his hands touched her waist, lightly at first and then painfully hard. The muscles at his jaw clenched and his eyes glittered oddly. Already they were only a few inches apart, but she felt herself being drawn 1027 closer, whether by his hands on her waist or by the surge of the tide or her own volition she could not tell. She only knew that in a matter of seconds she would be in his arms. "Coo@eee!" Jenny's voice echoed thinly across the water. "Clare! Uncle David! Come on!" David's head lifted sharply and a spasm of something close to fury crossed his face. Then it was gone and his expression was impassive again. Without a word he released her and plunged away, churning up a shower of spray that fell in small chill drops on her bare shoulders. The rest of the morning was spent playing beach-ball. After lunch Jenny went off with Josh to search for amber, and David lit a cigarette and disappeared over the dunes. Clare spread out her towel and lay down. She was glad to be alone for a while to sort out her confused thoughts. But the morning's exertion had made her drowsy, and after a few minutes her eyelids fluttered and closed. The shrill cry of a gull woke her, and she rolled over and felt for her watch, which was in the pocket of her beach bag. Ten past three. She must have been asleep for over an hour. Not that it mattered particularly, she thought, stretching luxuriously. How blue the sky was, the exact shade of the Bristol glass jug which was one of her treasures. "The sky, one blue interminable arch, without a breeze, a wing, a cloud. . .." Suddenly she became aware that "she was not alone. Someone was close by, watching her. With the quick up-rush of embarrassed annoyance that people feel when they are caught out in a moment of complete relaxation, she sat up and looked round. A few feet away from her David was lounging on the sand. "I thought you had gone for a walk," she said shortly. "I did. I came back about an hour ago. You were sound asleep." 98 His eyes held hers for a moment, and then travelled slowly down the length of her slim body and graceful sunburned legs. A wave of hot colour suffused her cheeks. How dared he look at her like that? "Where is Jenny?" she asked stiffly. "About half a mile up the beach." Clare reached for her linen jacket and shrugged it on. "Cold?" he asked. "Yes, just a bit chilly," she said. The sun was beating down with unabated heat. Nobody could possibly feel cold on such an afternoon. She knew it, and she knew that he knew it and was laughing at her prevarication. "Cigarette?" "Thank you." She turned, expecting that he would toss one over to her, but instead he moved closer. "Why were you angry just now?" he asked, when both their cigarettes were alight. She shot a quick glance at him. "I thought I was alone. It's rather unnerving to find oneself being watched." "I see." A slight smile curved his mouth. "I apologise. Next time I'll wake you up." Suddenly her/annoyance evaporated. There was really no reason to be cross. If Paul had looked at her in that particular way, she would not have been up in arms. She wished now that she had not put her jacket on, but to remove it would make her look even more of a fool. She drew on her cigarette, trying to think of something to say. The silence since his last remark had lasted rather too long. "You have lovely hair," he said quietly. Startled, she gaped at him. It was the first time he had made any personal remark, and she was not sure how to deal with it. Before she could reply, he put up a hand and touched a loose curl which had blown across her forehead. Once again she felt fear and delight quickening in her. His finger-tips touched her temple and traced the delicate curve of her cheek. Then with a swift movement hishand cupped her head and he pulled her roughly against him. For a full minute she lay against his heart while he gazed down at her upturned face. With a surge of joy she felt the rapid beat of his heart beneath her hand and the taut strength of the arms enfolding her. Then, as abruptly as he, had caught her, he let her go. Shocked out of the trembling languor which had been stealing over her during those sixty seconds in his arms, Clare was about to make a biting r
emark when, just in time, she saw the reason for his extraordinary behaviour. "Gosh, I'm thirsty. Is there another bottle of lemonade in the basket?" Jenny enquired hopefully, flopping down beside them. "I think so, Toots." Lancaster foraged in the hamper "Would you like a drink, Clare?" "Please." She avoided his glance. Was he really as calm as he sounded? Her own heart was still thumping crazily and she found difficulty in holding the plastic beaker steady when he handed it to her. "A penny for them?" he said, his eyes alight with wicked laughter. "My mind was a complete blank," she said demurely, danng him to challenge it "I'm going for another swim," Jenny announced, jumping up. David's brows arched quizzically. Clare knew what he meant. Either they could join Jenny in the sea or they could^stay behind. The choice lay with her. For an instant she was tempted-to stay, to be bold and brazen. Then it occurred to her that, in his present moed, he was quite capable of leaving her behind. It was better that he 100 take her for a coward than that she should risk humiliation of sitting there alone. If only she didn't this treacherous yearning to be in his arms again. "I'll come with you, Jenny," she said, watching him of the comer of her eye. But his face was unreadable, and for a dreadful^pmoment she wondered if he had taken her decision as a Yet surely he must see that she could not invite caresses however much she might want to do so. Walking down the beach she wondered uneasily if it madness to allow the situation to develop. Until^? today he had shown no sign of being attracted to her@ unless one could count the day of the fete when they had^' met in the hall and he had given her that odd heart quickening look, and, even now, it might be just a mood,l|;--a transient relaxation of his normal guardedness engen]@[, dered by the glorious weather. His behaviour just now ;@; had been more in Paul's line@except that Paul had never fr stirred anything like the same response in her. ;' Then there was their day-to-day relationship to be considered. Because they lived in the same house and worked elastic hours, it was sometimes hard to remember that he was her employer and she his secretary. In London she had always avoided social or emotional contacts with the men in the office, whether colleagues or superiors, and the feeling that such contacts could be dangerous still persisted. Anyone would think I was a parlourmaid and he the lord of the manor, she thought dryly. Oh dear, how complicated life is. "Aren't you going to play ball?" A small hand tugged at her arm and she found Jenny gazing curiously at her. "Sorry, I was in a daze. Yes, I'll play," dare said hastily. For the next hour she was too fully occupied in throwing and retrieving the yellow beach-ball to be able to concentrate on the complexities of life. 101 During tea Jenny chatted volubly, but neither dare nor David had much to say. Afterwards, as even Jenny seemed to have had enough running about, they continued to lounge on the sand, trying rather half-heartedly to do The Times crossword. "What's the dog after? He's been sniffing your beachbag for the last five minutes," David said suddenly. "Josh, what are you up to?" Clare reached across and gave the Boxer's hindquarters a friendly slap. "Oh, confound him. I'd forgotten I had a bar of chocolate in there. Come back at once, you greedy beast. Josh! Drop it!" Josh, feeling neglected, rolled his eyes and retreated, his stubby tail wagging convulsively. Clare scrambled to her feet and lunged at him, but he dashed out of reach, and, laughing at his ridiculous expression with the chocolate bulging his soft jowls, she gave chase. She had not bothered to put on her espadriUes after the swim, and as she careened across the sand in pursuit of the dog she felt a sharp-pain in the sole of her right foot. It was enough to send her sprawling, and by the time she had picked herself up David and Jenny were beside her. "What happened? Are you hurt?" "No, just a fall. I thLak I've cut my right foot." She balanced on one leg and inspected the injury. "Goodness, it's bleeding like anything," Jenny said in awe. "Josh, you horrible hound, look what you've done to poor dare." "It wasn't his fault. I expect it's just a scratch. Probably from a piece of glass. I should have had my shoes on." "It's a nasty cut," David interjected. "The first thing is to rinse the sand out with sea water. Hold tight!" Without waiting for her consent, he swung her into his arms and started down the beach. .102 "Really this is quite unnecessary. It's hardly anything," "dare protested. "You can get tetanus from a pinprick," he said briefly. "Jenny, catch that damned dog, will you. If he's eaten : the chocolate he'll get a good beating." ; "He was only playing," Clare objected. - "Don't argue, my girl." At the water's edge he set her down and made her hold on to his shoulder while he rinsed her foot. "H'm, deep but clean," he said presently. "We should have some iodine in the basket, and I've got a clean handkerchief to fix you up till we get home. You won't be able to walk on it for an hour or two, though." "What a wretched nuisance. I am sorry," Clare said vexedly. He made a move to pick her up again. "I can quite easily hop," she said awkwardly. "You can, but you'll probably fall flat on your face again." He eyed her sardonically. "Do you object to being carried?" "Well, no, of course not. But aren't I too heavy?" "I'll survive." He scooped her up. "Put your arm round my neck, it helps to distribute your weight." Wishing she had not made a fuss, Clare slipped her arm round his neck. Their faces were very close and she had a wild impulse to lay her cheek against his shoulder. Jenny met them half-way up the beach, dragging Josh by the scruff of his neck. "He's only chewed it a bit. I think he's sorry." "All right, we'll let him off this time," David said. "Run round to the dinghy, will you? There should be some lint in the locker." Instructing Clare not to let her foot touch the ground, he set her down and searched in his pocket for a clean handkerchief. "Grit your teeth. The iodine will sting like hell," he said briefly. 103 It did. Clare winced and clenched her fists, but when David looked up she contrived to smile, although she had gone rather white. "Good girl. It's an old-fashioned remedy, but it takes a lot of beating. Have a swig of orange juice." He filled the beaker and gave it to her. By the time she had drunk it in the sting of the iodine had lessened slightly. "Would you like your jacket on?" he asked. She nodded. "Yes, please. It's gone rather chilly in the last half-hour. I should have changed my swimsuit." "I think we may as well go home as soon as your foot is fixed up," he said, helping her on with the jacket. "Good lord, your hands are frozen. Give them to me." He took her hands in his own warm ones and rubbed them briskly. "I shouldn't have let you stay in the water so long." His voice held a curious gentleness, as though she were a child to be protected and comforted. To her chagrin, Clare felt quick tears prick her eyelids. She tried to withdraw her hands, but he held on to them. "dare, look at me." Slowly she raised her face. He was not mocking her now. His expression was grave, and his blue eyes seemed to probe into her mind and heart, stripping away her defences. Then he bent forward and his mouth brushed hers. It was the 'briefest of caresses, but as he let go her hands and stood up she knew with certainty and joy that she loved him. "Here comes Jenny with the lint," he said quietly. Ten minutes later the injury had been neatly bound up and the hamper packed. This time Clare submitted with delight to being picked up. Was it her imaa nat-'on or did he hold her more closely now? It took all h'r control to keep her face averted, her hand lax on his shoul104 der. She longed to look at him, to touch the crisp dark hair at the nape of his neck. But with Jenny trotting beside them it was impossible to give the least sign of her inward feelings. They reached the dinghy and he deposited her care" fully in the stern. "Comfortable?" "Yes, thank you." The words, so trivial in themselves, seemed now to have a deeper significance. All the way back to the moorings she wanted to shout aloud her happiness. It's happened. It's happened at last. I'm in love. Hilda met them at the garden door, clicking her tongue concernedly at the sight of dare's bandaged foot. "Now, what's this?" "Only a cut, Hilda," David said easily. "How are the decorations going?" "That Cobble! He's enough to drive me out of my wits," Hilda said tersely. "You've never seen such a mess as he's made. It'll take me a week to clear up. Now I've got a nice hot supper for you, so don't be too long tidying yourselves." "Perhaps you could give Clare a hand," he suggested. "No, no. I can manage quite well," dare insisted. With Jenny's aid she hobbled upstairs. Alone in her room she could not repress h
er yearning to say it aloud. I love him. I love David. She stared at herself in the looking-glass. Outwardly she looked just the same but inwardly . . . inwardly there was a world of difference. Remembering rather belatedly Hilda's injunction not to be long, she reached for her comb and began restoring her wind-tangled hair to order. Her immediate instinct had been to put on her prettiest dress, but she realised now that she could not do so without exciting comment from Hilda and Jenny. But there was no reason why she 105 should not wear the new cashmere sweater which" she had bought in Norwich on their last Saturday shopping trip. Swiftly she peeled off herswimsuit and rummaged in the chest of drawers for clean underwear. It had been a long day. Jenny would probably go to bed early, and with Miss Lancaster away, they would be alone. Alone with David. A tremor of excitement ran through her and she fastened her slacks with unsteady fingers. "Ready dare?" Jenny called through the door. "Not quite. You carry on down, I can manage the stairs by myself." She slid the sweater out of its cellophane package and pulled it over her head. It was a soft shade of turquoise with the texture of swansdown. She ran a coral lipstick over her lips and touched her wrists and throat with the glass stopper of the perfume flask. Jenny and David were already at the table when she limped into the dining-room. He rose at once and pulled out her chair. "How's the foot now? Still painful?" "No, hardly at all. I'll probably be able to put a plaster on it tomorrow. My skin always heals very quickly." Hilda had prepared a chicken casserole followed by raspberry trifle, and Clare was faintly surprised to find that she had a good appetite. As usual, they had coffee in the sitting-room and, as she had hoped, it was not long before Jenny began to yawn and knuckle her eyes. "Time you were in bed, Toots," David said, ruffling the child's hair. "Oh, not yet, Uncle David. It's quite early." "Up you go," he said firmly. "Can I read for a bit?" He glanced at his watch. "Half an hour, no longer. Don't forget to clean your teeth." 106 ' Jenny gathered up the day's collection of shell's and stones and kissed them both good night. As the door closed behind her, Clare felt a flutter of apprehension. This was the moment she had been awaiting, and now that it was here her composure seemed to have ebbed away, leaving her as nervoiK and diffident as a schoolgirl. "Another cup of coffee?" she asked hurriedly. "Thanks." He brought his cup over and waited while she filled it. When he offered his cigarette - case she accepted eagerly in the hope that smoking would calm her quivering nerves. Instead of returning to his usual chair, he sat down on the sofa beside her, one arm stretched along the back so that his finger-tips were almost touching her shoulder. "Have you enjoyed your day?" he asked. She shot a quick look at him. Was that a straightforward question or not? "Yes, very much. It couldn't have been hotter on the Riviera." "It would certainly have been much more crowded. I was persuaded to go to Nice once. It was worse than Blackpool." "I can't imagine you basking under an umbrella at a fashionable resort," she said, smiling. He grinned, that rare .engaging grin which made him look so much younger and more approachable. "Is that a compliment?" "It was intended to be. I imagine the Riviera being crowded with stout business barons or sleek gigolos." "Thank you for excluding me from either category," he said, politely. She put her empty cup back on the tray. Her cigarette was almost finished, and she had the odd feeling that he was waiting to stub it out. Her fingers, shook and the cigarette end dropped from them on to her lap. 107 His hand shot out and grabbed it before it could burn her slacks. He flicked away a particle of red-hot ash. "You seem slightly distraite. What's the trouble?" "No trouble. I just wasn't concentrating." As if hypnotised, she watched him drop the cigarette in the ash-tray and crush it out. "Are you trying to avoid the inevitable, Clare?" he asked softly, and at tile same moment his arm slid from the sofa and closed round her shoulders. Then his other hand came up and cupped her chin, tilting her face towards him. For a long moment he studied her intently, and this time his face was neither mocking nor tender. His eyes glittered with a light that brought a lump to her throat and the arm about her was tense. With a spasm of something close to fear she knew that here was a man who, once his iron control snapped, was capable of violent, even savage emotions. He would not be a humble and supplicating lover, treating her gently, grateful for her favours. If she surrendered now, she would be his utterly and completely, body and soul. "Clare ..." his voice was husky. Neither of them heard the footsteps crossing the hall, but a tap at the door made David spring to his feet with a smothered curse. "Miss Clare, I clean forgot to tell jou that this box came for you today." Hilda stood in tile doorway, her round face apologetic, a narrow white box in her hand. "Oh . . . thank you, Hilda." Clare hoped her voice. sounded normal. "I've been that flustered with Cobble messing up the kitchen that it went right out of my head," Hilda explained, putting the box on the sofa. "If I hadn't chanced to reach up to the top of the dresser for some fresh shelf paper, it would have been there till morning. I put it out of Cobble's way, you see, in case he was to go and spill some of his paint on it." 108 "Never mind. I don't expect it's anything important. Good night, Hilda." "Good night, miss. Good night, Mr. David. Shall I lock the front door now or will you be going out again?" "Lock it by all means. Good night." His voice was sharp, but Hilda did not appear to notice anything unusual, and, still murmuring regretfully about her forgetfulness, she went out. As the latch clicked into place David swung round. He was breathing hard, his dark brows drawn together in an angry bar. Catching dare's eyes, his scowl lightened. "We seem fated to be interrupted," he said wryly. "Perhaps I ought to go to bed." "For Pete's sake!" "Well, your aunt is away, and in the circumstances@'" She made an expressive gesture. "The devil you will." His glance fell on the box. "Aren't you going to open it?" "Oh . . . yes, I suppose I should." He tossed a pocket knife on to her lap and she cut the tape and removed the lid. Inside on a bed of cotton-wool lay an exquisite spray of white gardenias. With an involuntary cry of delight, she lifted it out of the box and sniffed the delicate fragrance. The she caught sight of the card tucked among the glossy leaves. On it, in a sprawling hand, was written: "In the words of the song, 'Moonlight Becomes You'. I shall be back on Friday. Will you dine with me again? Paul." Laughter curved her mouth. How like him to send flowers all the way from London when he could easily have telephoned the Hall and ordered a posy from his own hot-house to be brought over to her. "From Mallinson?" Lancaster's tone was clipped. "Yes. Aren't they beautiful?" She laid them gently back in the box and slipped the card into her pocket. 109 His face was expressionless and she was totally unprepared for his next remark. "Do you think you're wise to encourage him?" "I don't follow you," she said, genuinely puzzled. He lit another cigarette, forgetting to offer one to her. "I mean that a man of his type doesn't lavish presents on a woman without expecting something in return." If he had struck her she would not have been more, shocked. For several seconds she stared frozenly at him, scarcely believing her ears. But the harsh set of his mouth confirmed that she had not misheard. Without pausing to choose her words, she said coldly, "Isn't that rather an unpleasant allegation against a man who' is supposed to be your friend?" "It happens to be true," he replied curtly. "I don't agree. Paul is a delightful person, not a bit like ... like that." He laughed, a short derisive sound quite without mirth. "Rich men usually are considered delightful by your sex." She stiffened, her eyes bright with anger. "Just what are you implying?" "I'm not implying anything. I'm merely warning you @since you appear to be so singularly naive@that Paul isn't a suitable partner for an idle flirtation. You're likely to burn your fingers. If you realise that and want to take the risk. . . ." He shrugged expressively. "How dare you!" She sprang up, rigid with indignation. "Of all the disgusting pieces of disloyalty@that certainly takes the prize!" "Our codes of ethics seem to differ," he said icily. "While you are part of this household, it is my concern to see you don't make a fool of yourself, unintentionally or otherwise." dare's mouth curled disdainfully. "I may be your employee, Mr. Lancaster, but that doesn't give you the right to interfere with my private 110 life. I choose my own friends, and I'm afraid your innue
ndoes won't alter my feelings for Paul Mallinson." He exhaled a thin plume of smoke, his eyes running over her in a way that made her fists clench. "So I was right in my original estimate. You're like the rest of your sex, after all." "I believe I can take care of myself without your super-vision," she said hotly. "I don't doubt it," he agreed unpleasantly. "Today's events must have been most diverting for you. I suppose in Mallinson's absence you were bored@@" "You are insufferable!" She was trembling with fury now, angrier than she had ever been in her life. "Don't worry. I shan't be deceived a second time," he said silkily. Controlling her temper with a supreme effort, Clare picked up the box of gardenias'and moved to the door, only to find him barring her way. "Please let me pass!" Her voice shook with the pentup violence of her rage. "Certainly, But first we have some unfinished business to conclude. I'm afraid I've been a poor substitute for Mallinson up till now. With a swift movement he grabbed her wrists and drew her against him. "Don't struggle. You can't get away." "Let me go! Let me go ... please. . . ." Suddenly she was afraid of him, her voice imploring. "Perhaps this will teach you to be less confident about taking care of yourself," he sai'd roughly. For a few seconds she struggled desperately to break free and then, suddenly, all the fight went out of her and she lay limp and unresisting in his arms. His grip slackened slightly and she thought for an instant that he was going to release her, but with a sound like a groan he bent his head and forced his mouth on hers.