No Gentle Possession

by Anne Mather

  ‘All right, I’ll get you something to drink.’

  Glad of the activity, Karen left the room and sped back downstairs again and into the kitchen. There were bottles of cordial in one of the cupboards she had opened earlier, and she found a jug, diluted the liquid liberally, and added ice for good measure. Then she put the jug and a glass on a small tray and went back upstairs.

  Alexis gulped the fruit cordial greedily, and lay back on his pillows, exhausted by the effort. Karen stood helplessly beside the bed, wishing she had more knowledge of how to treat ‘flu. All she had to go on was her father’s experiences, but he had had the assistance of antibiotics to make him well.

  Alexis looked tired, but a sardonic expression crossed his lean face. ‘Well?’ he said. ‘Are you leaving now?’

  Karen smoothed her finger down the seam of her skirt. ‘If you want me to.’

  He shook his head slowly. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Is there no one I can inform about your illness? Your father, perhaps—’

  ‘No!’

  He was more adamant than before, and Karen looked down at him despairingly. How could she go and leave him to fend for himself in this state? She was all too aware of the dangers involved in not taking ‘flu seriously. She didn’t try to analyse her reactions then. She didn’t stop to consider that this man was merely her father’s superior, that their relationship so far had been compounded of arguments and confrontations with Alexis showing little or no concern for her feelings, that anyone else would simply walk out of the house and consider his behaviour wholly foolhardy, but nevertheless his own affair.

  Karen couldn’t do that. Her mind was made up as she walked towards the bedroom door. ‘Is there anything else I can get you?’

  Alexis moved his head from side to side. ‘No.’

  Karen nodded. ‘Very well, then. Good night.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’ Was that faint regret in his voice?

  Karen paused by the door. ‘What else?’ she asked, and going out she drew the door to behind her.

  Downstairs again she entered the study and picked up the telephone. Her mother answered as before and in rather uneven tones Karen explained that she had decided to stay the night with Melanie. Her mother put up less opposition than she had expected, but as she could hear the buzz of voices in the background she guessed her parents had company that evening and Laura didn’t want to spend too long talking to her daughter on the telephone.

  That done, Karen returned to the lounge and stood looking about her with thoughtful eyes. At present the house was comfortably warm from the heating of the radiators, but if this system was comparable to others she had seen no doubt later on it would switch itself off for the night. At present she could sleep on the couch, but later it would prove chilly to do so.

  Deciding to wait until she was sure that Alexis was asleep before attempting to get herself a blanket from upstairs, she turned out all the lights but a standard lamp beside her chair and settled down with the thriller again.

  Despite her tension, she must have dozed, because when she opened her eyes it was much cooler in the room. She looked hastily at the clock and saw it was after midnight. She was amazed. It seemed only minutes ago that she had settled down. She got stiffly out of the chair and stretched, but even as she did so, a sound caused her to drop her arms to her sides almost defensively. Was this what had awakened her, she thought uneasily, and what could it be? It came again, a sort of knocking sound, and on stealthy feet she crept to the door of the lounge and peered out into the hall.

  There was nothing to be seen, the hall was in darkness, and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. But then she saw a thin thread of light beneath the kitchen door and expelled a sigh. Surely no intruder would turn on the lights; it must be Alexis. But what was he doing?

  She hesitated. Ought she to go and expose herself to him? So far as he was aware she had left hours ago. What might he say when he found she had not left at all? Her only alternative was to remain where she was, but that would mean waiting another hour before she dared venture out for a blanket and it was getting colder all the time.

  Summoning up her courage, she walked swiftly across the hall and reaching out a hand turned the handle of the kitchen door. It gave inwards instantly and for a moment the bright light dazzled her. But then, as her eyes accustomed themselves to the brilliance, she uttered a gasp and stared in amazement at a young woman, dressed in a long, tapestry-designed housecoat, who was trying to knock ice out of a container. The derivation of the noise Karen had heard was obvious, but the identity of the woman was not, and she felt a chilled feeling invading her stomach.

  However, if this unexpected confrontation had shocked her, it had equally stunned the other woman. With a startled cry she dropped the ice container on to the floor and gasped: ‘Who the hell are you?’

  Karen gripped the door handle more tightly. ‘I – I might ask you the same question.’

  The woman gathered the folds of her housecoat closer about her. ‘Let it be sufficient to say that my identity is not in question,’ she snapped. ‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’

  Karen took a deep breath. ‘My name is Karen Sinclair, and – and I’m staying here.’

  ‘Like hell you are!’ The woman’s face was furious. In normal circumstances, Karen could see that she was quite startlingly attractive, but right now, with her claws showing, she was rather hard and coarse.

  ‘I can assure you I am,’ Karen went on, controlling her voice with an effort. ‘I repeat – who are you?’

  ‘What in God’s name is going on here?’

  A hand descended on Karen’s shoulder from behind and she swung round guiltily to find Alexis right behind her, pale and drawn, the bathrobe tightly corded about his waist.

  ‘Alexis,’ she began, but she saw his eyes had moved beyond her to the woman standing in the middle of the kitchen. His eyes narrowed ominously and the hand gripping her shoulder tightened until it was an actual agony of pain shooting up into her neck. He stared at the woman for several seconds and then looked down at Karen again, but his expression was inscrutable.

  ‘Well, well,’ he said, his voice thickened by congestion. ‘It seems we have a visitor, darling.’ His inflection was deliberate and to Karen’s relief his hand on her shoulder relaxed. But her relief was short-lived, however, as his hand moved up her neck to cause an even more disturbing sensation by caressing the soft skin behind her ear with his thumb. ‘You haven’t met my stepmother, have you, Karen?’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  His stepmother!

  Karen was horrified. This then was Michelle Whitney. The woman Lucy Summerton had told her had married Alexis’s father because Alexis would not marry her.

  Michelle was glaring at them now. ‘What’s going on?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you were ill, Alex! Why is she here?’

  Alexis used his free hand to draw Karen back against him and she let him. Right now she was too bemused to protest; she had the distinct impression that she was dreaming all this, that soon she might wake up and find herself in her bed, at home. But the feeling of Alexis’s hard body beneath the bathrobe seemed real enough, and a yielding sense of lethargy was robbing her of the desire to offer any resistance just at that moment.

  ‘Where else would Karen be?’ Alexis was asking softly, but with an underlying note of menace. ‘Someone had to look after me, and who better than Karen?’ His voice hardened. ‘One might ask what you are doing here?’

  ‘But who is she?’ There was an edge of hysteria to Michelle’s voice now.

  Alexis smiled cruelly. ‘Didn’t she tell you? Why, Karen is my fiancée, of course.’

  Now it was Karen’s turn to feel bewildered, and faintly resentful, but when she would have struggled away from him his hold on her tightened warningly, and although she felt sure she would regret it later she did not contradict him.

  But Michelle did, her rage vituperative. ‘Your fiancée!’ she almost scr
eamed. ‘I don’t believe you! I don’t believe you, Alex! You wouldn’t – you couldn’t consider marrying someone like – like her!’

  ‘Be careful, Michelle.’ Alexis’s voice was chilling. ‘Don’t say anything you may later regret.’

  ‘Are you threatening me, Alex?’

  ‘Do I need to do that?’

  Michelle clenched her fists, venting her spleen in a few moments of uncontrolled verbal hostility which sickened Karen so that she longed to escape. But Alexis would not let her go, and from the tautness of his body she guessed he was using her as a shield against what he might have been tempted to do to his stepmother.

  When Michelle finally broke into sobs of recrimination, he said coldly and succinctly: ‘Now I’ll tell you something, Michelle. You have exactly fifteen minutes to get dressed and get out of here!’

  She raised her face to his, but found no compassion there. ‘Alex, Alex, I’m sorry …’ she began, but he pushed Karen away from him and turned away.

  ‘Fifteen minutes, Michelle.’

  ‘But where can I go at this time of night?’

  ‘There are hotels—’

  ‘But in Wakeley, I’d be recognized—’

  ‘That’s your problem.’

  ‘Alex, don’t make me do this!’

  ‘I’m afraid I must.’

  ‘But why? Alex, why?’ Michelle’s gaze flickered over Karen, and Karen sensed the malevolence which still lurked in that fleeting glance. ‘If – if you’re going to marry this – this girl, why can’t I stay here too?’

  ‘It wouldn’t be – respectable,’ replied Alexis, supporting himself against the door jamb. ‘Respectability is important in a place like Wakeley.’

  ‘You’ve never cared about respectability before—’

  ‘Well, perhaps I do now.’ Alexis was grim and Karen wondered uneasily how Michelle could stand to be treated so contemptuously in front of another woman. Had she no pride, no self-respect?

  As though reading Karen’s thoughts, as though realizing that someone else was witnessing her degradation, Michelle seemed to come to a decision. Picking up her skirts, she swept forward, past both of them, and up the stairs without another word. Only then did Alexis’s head drop forward on to his chest and Karen realized what a terrific strain this had placed upon him.

  ‘Get me a drink,’ he muttered, and Karen went forward to comply, but his arm halted her. ‘Not fruit juice,’ he added heavily. ‘Barley water!’

  ‘Barley water?’ she echoed. ‘Do you have some?’

  ‘Distilled barley water,’ he remarked heavily, straightening. ‘Whisky!’

  ‘Oh! Oh, I see.’ Karen was still bemused by the events of the past few minutes, but she hurried quickly across the hall and into his study, switching on the lights as she went. When she turned from the drinks cabinet, he was leaning against the door.

  ‘H – here you are,’ she stammered, and put a glass into his hand.

  ‘Thanks!’ He swallowed half its contents at a gulp and then studied the remainder. Karen stood in the centre of the floor; uncertain of what to do or say next.

  But in fact she didn’t have to say anything, at least not then. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and presently Michelle appeared behind Alexis. She was wearing a sable coat now which even Karen could see was worth thousands of pounds, and she was carrying a small suitcase.

  ‘I’m leaving,’ she said, looking at her stepson. ‘The car’s outside. I shall drive into Leeds and stay there.’

  Alexis did not say anything, he merely inclined his head in a sardonic gesture, and with a muffled exclamation she walked across the hall and let herself out of the front door, slamming it noisily behind her.

  After she had gone, Alexis walked across the hall himself and added a bolt to the already secure fastening of a Yale lock. Then he turned to find Karen hovering nervously in the doorway to the study.

  ‘I suppose I should thank you,’ he said, with resignation. ‘If you hadn’t been here things might have proved – difficult.’

  Karen tried to gather her own scattered thoughts. ‘Why on earth did you tell her we were engaged?’ she exclaimed. It was the first thing that came into her head.

  ‘What would you have had me say? That we were spending the night together?’

  Karen shook her head. ‘I don’t know. What will she think when she finds out it’s not true? What if she tells someone?’

  ‘Would you rather have had her tell everyone that you were merely sleeping here? Or do you think she’d have believed me if I’d told her you were my nurse? I can assure you, she wouldn’t.’

  Karen felt cold sanity creeping back into her bones. ‘You’re surely not telling me that you said it to protect my reputation!’

  Alexis’s eyes hardened. ‘You wouldn’t believe that, of course.’

  Karen bent her head. ‘I don’t know what to believe. Why did she come here?’

  ‘Don’t you know?’

  ‘I – I can guess.’ Karen felt slightly sick. ‘Do you – I mean – is she your mistress?’

  ‘Why do you want to know that?’ His voice was harsh.

  Karen moved her shoulders helplessly. ‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.’ She glanced round. ‘I – I should go—’

  ‘Don’t be silly!’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘You can’t go now, and you know it! I don’t even know why you stayed.’ His eyes softened a little as they rested on her flushed cheeks. ‘But if it’s any interest to you, no – Michelle is not my mistress!’

  Karen stared at him. ‘But why did she come here?’

  Alexis sighed. ‘She would like, to have something to hold over me where my father is concerned. She would have liked to have confronted me in the morning with the knowledge that she had spent the night in this house, alone with me. She would have liked to have threatened to tell my father what had happened, because knowing him as I do, he would never believe that I wouldn’t touch her, given the opportunity.’

  ‘Oh! How – how awful!’

  ‘Yes, isn’t it? However, let me assure you that while I may have found Michelle attractive at one time – before she married my father, I might add – right now I find her totally repulsive!’

  Karen swallowed hard. ‘I see.’ Then she seemed to realize that this was the middle of the night and Alexis, no matter how confidently he had faced Michelle, was a sick man. He ought not to be talking at all, let alone standing half naked in the hall of his house. ‘I think you ought to go back to bed,’ she said quietly. ‘If you can tell me where I can find some blankets, I’ll sleep on the couch in the lounge.’

  Alexis regarded her for a long moment, and then he shook his head. ‘Oh, Karen,’ he said, and there was a trace of humour in his voice, ‘I don’t know what to do with you!’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. And as for getting blankets, I absolutely refuse for any nurse of mine to sleep anywhere else than in a bed. There are several perfectly good beds upstairs, and knowing Blake I’m quite sure at least two of them are aired in case of emergencies. And as I’m equally sure you wouldn’t agree to share mine, I suggest you use one of them, right?’

  Karen’s face burned. ‘Very well.’

  Alexis nodded. ‘Good. Shall we go?’

  Karen awoke the following morning in a wide bed, soft and luxurious, with silk sheets that caressed her back and thighs. For a moment she couldn’t remember where she was, but then remembrance came flooding back and with it the memory of the horrible scene with Michelle Whitney the night before.

  She focused on her watch and found it was only a little after eight o’clock. Still, it was time she was up, and almost regretfully she slid out of bed, finding the room comfortably warm as her room at home was never warm. Adjoining the bedroom was an exquisitely furnished bathroom and she took a shower before dressing.

  As she brushed her hair with a brush she found on the dressing table she surveyed the room critically.
Like the rest of the house the furniture was very old and sprawling, but certainly the bed was as comfortable as any bed she had ever occupied.

  Satisfied with her appearance, she left the room and walked along the wide landing. Alexis’s door was closed, but after a light tap she opened it and peered inside. His curtains were drawn, but in the gloom she could make out his still form beneath the covers. Closing the door again, she went downstairs and into the kitchen.

  The electric kettle didn’t take long to boil and while she waited she scanned the headlines of the morning paper she had found pushed through the letter box. There were some letters, too, but they were all official-looking envelopes and she didn’t pay a great deal of attention to them.

  When the kettle had boiled she made some toast and preparing a tray carried it upstairs. She entered Alexis’s bedroom, but he was still asleep and she sighed impatiently. What should she do? Leave it as she had the night before, or wake him up?

  However, as she was pondering this he stirred as though becoming aware of someone’s presence, and rolled on to his back, taking the sheets with him so that they wrapped about him sarong-wise. He stared at Karen for a while, and then blinked.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, putting down the tray to draw the curtains and allow the faintly glimmering sun to brighten the room. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Alexis lay still for a few minutes longer and then struggled up on the pillows. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Almost nine.’ Karen lifted the tray and carried it to the bedside table. ‘I’ve made you some tea and toast.’

  ‘I don’t like tea.’ Alexis was uncommunicative.

  Karen shrugged. ‘It’s better for you than coffee when you’re not well.’

  Alexis grimaced. ‘Is it?’

  ‘Yes. Are you going to have it?’

  ‘In a minute.’ Alexis sounded moody. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Yes. Did you?’

  ‘No.’ He ran a hand over his thickening growth of beard. ‘God, I feel a mess!’

  ‘You need a shave, that’s all,’ replied Karen uncomfortably.