Melting Fire

by Anne Mather

  ‘Miss Ponsonby is only thinking of you—of what’s best for you,’ he declared one morning, after tackling Olivia as she hosed her newest possession. ‘How do you know this—this singer isn’t making use of you to reach Richard?’

  ‘Richard?’ Olivia stared at him across the bonnet of the sleek Mercedes. ‘Oh, honestly, not that old story again! Why would Jules want to know Richard?’

  Alex raised his sandy eyebrows. ‘I don’t know. You tell me. Does he speak about him?’

  ‘No! That is—well, not often.’ Olivia felt herself blushing, helplessly. ‘Alex, Jules is staying at a five-star hotel, he drives a Rolls-Royce, and his latest single is already a hit on the continent.’

  ‘But not here?’ enquired Alex politely, and she almost flung the wash leather she was using at him.

  ‘Not yet,’ she agreed. ‘But it will be. His manager’s sure of that.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Alex sounded thoughtful, and Olivia heaved an impatient sigh.

  ‘Really, Alex, Jules isn’t interested in Richard, or the Jenner corporation.’

  ‘Which means he’s interested in you,’ observed Alex dryly, and she was confused by his frowning expression.

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Yes, I expect so.’

  Alex nodded, but she sensed his lack of enthusiasm. Like Bella, he was intensely loyal to Richard, and she was frustratedly aware that so far as they were concerned, he could do little wrong. She wondered how they would feel if she told them what he had done, the way he had behaved towards her! That would wipe that ‘holier than thou’ expression off their faces, she thought resentfully, but she kept her head and said nothing.

  At dinner the following evening the subject came up again. Olivia had spent the day in London, at the studios where Jules was recording his new album in English, and it had been hot and oppressive. Even the pavement had felt hot through the thin soles of her shoes, and she had been half relieved that she had to get back to Copley in time for dinner. The Gerrards’ proposed visit had had to be postponed the previous week because Mrs Gerrard had developed an attack of the seasonal asthma she occasionally suffered, and as Jules had already agreed to attend a party given by some friends of his, they had parted in the late afternoon.

  After almost a week of his company, Olivia had lost much of her shyness with him, and she knew that their relationship was gradually deepening into something more personal. They had fun together, and she no longer had any doubts that he cared for her. She was equally happy accompanying him on sightseeing trips around London, or on visits to the studios, and the other members of his group had accepted her without question.

  That afternoon she had decided to invite him to Copley the following day. If Richard could bring his friends to swim in the pool, why shouldn’t she, and ignoring the inevitability of Bella’s disapproval, she had suggested he drove down the next day after lunch. Jules was only too willing to agree. A swimming pool, away from the heat and the bustle of the city, was exactly what he needed, he told her eagerly, and Olivia was looking forward to showing him her home.

  Bella’s ankle was no longer troubling her, and in Richard’s absence she had joined them for dinner. There were six of them at table, including the three Gerrards, Bella and Alex, when Olivia remarked that she had invited Jules to Copley, and for once she was glad of Janice Gerrard’s girlish exuberance.

  ‘Jules Merignac is coming here!’ she echoed. ‘The Jules Merignac!’ and Olivia turned triumphant eyes on Miss Ponsonby, as if to say ‘I told you so.’

  Struggling to hide her annoyance, Bella was necessarily brusque. ‘You had no right to invite that young man here while Richard is away!’ she declared severely. ‘Why, Richard hasn’t even met him.’

  ‘Young people are like that, these days.’ Surprisingly, Olivia found an ally in Madeline Gerrard. ‘They don’t think about what’s right and what’s wrong. Besides,’ she smiled, ‘I expect Olivia can look after herself. You can’t expect a girl who’s spent a year away from home to come back with the same set of values, Bella.’

  ‘But Jules Merignac!’ Before Bella could answer, Janice was off again, and Olivia found herself liking her more each minute. ‘How did you meet him, Livvy? I never get to meet anyone like that.’

  ‘Janice!’

  Her father sounded a warning note, but Olivia was not offended. ‘I met him at a party in Paris, actually,’ she admitted. ‘One of the girls I was at school with is related to his musical arranger. She invited him, and he came.’

  ‘As simple as that.’ Janice was amazed, and envious. ‘You lucky thing! I always envied you having Richard for a brother, and now you’re going out with a man I’d give my eye teeth to meet!’

  Olivia smiled, although Janice’s words about Richard had rung a sour note. ‘Come over and meet him, why don’t you?’ she invited generously, sure that Jules would have no objections. ‘So long as you don’t bring the gang, I don’t suppose Jules will mind.’

  ‘Could I?’ Janice stared at her incredulously, and then turned to gain her parents’ permission. ‘Could I?’

  ‘If Olivia has no objections, I don’t see why not,’ her mother remarked casually, in spite of Bella’s snort of annoyance. ‘But don’t make a nuisance of yourself, will you? I expect Olivia will want the young man to herself for at least part of the time he’s here.’

  ‘Oh, Mummy!’ Janice gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I’m not a child, you know!’

  ‘The usual cry these days!’ observed Bella shortly, and rose to serve the strawberry gateau she had made that afternoon.

  The Gerrards went home soon after eleven, and on the point of retiring herself, Olivia was surprised when Alex asked if he could have a few words with her.

  ‘Can’t it wait until morning?’ she asked, guessing she was not going to like what he had to say, but Alex insisted that it would only take a few moments of her time.

  ‘Come into the study,’ he invited, and with a feeling of frustration she followed him.

  This room was predominantly Richard’s domain, with deep leather armchairs, a square mahogany desk, tall bookshelves, and an absence of ornamentation. The carpet was dark blue, the curtains deep red velvet, and the walls that were visible were attractively panelled. There was an odour of books and binding, and the tobacco Richard smoked in the narrow cheroots he favoured.

  It was a room Olivia had loved to enter when she was younger. It was associated with cosy afternoon teas, shared with Richard by the fire on those occasions when he had had time to spare for her. She had recollections of Christmas and birthday presents residing in the drawers of his desk, of unexpected little gifts he had brought for her from the various countries of the world he had visited. She remembered the excitement she used to feel on being summoned to his study, an excitement he had destroyed once and for all when he took her in his arms …

  Now she settled herself in one of the armchairs, feeling more at ease when she did not have to support herself. Spreading the skirts of her pleated navy chiffon gown around her ankles, she waited for Alex to speak, dreading the censure she was sure was to come.

  ‘Richard is coming home tomorrow,’ he said, without preamble, closing the door behind him. ‘I thought you ought to know, that’s all.’

  ‘Tomorrow!’ Annoyingly, Olivia could not keep the tremor out of her voice. ‘But—how do you know? How long have you known?’

  ‘Just since yesterday,’ replied Alex evenly, walking across to the screened fireplace and regarding her with sympathy. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Are you?’ Olivia pressed her hands down on the arms of her chair, unable to relax now. ‘And—and anyway, why should you be sorry?’ she argued, forcing her chin up. ‘It doesn’t matter, does it?’

  ‘Well, it did cross my mind that you might like to—postpone Monsieur Merignac’s visit——’ Alex was beginning, when Olivia sprang to her feet.

  ‘No! Why should I?’ she protested. ‘This is my home! Why shouldn’t I invite a friend for the afternoon? I notice you don’t su
ggest postponing Janice’s visit, and she’s a friend, too!’

  Alex sighed. ‘The decision’s yours, of course——’

  ‘Thank you!’

  ‘—I just thought you might like to change your mind.’

  ‘No.’

  Alex shrugged, and as he did so they both heard the unfamiliar sound of a car accelerating up the drive towards the house. It was not a car Olivia recognised. The engine had not the powerful roar of any of Richard’s cars, but that was not surprising, considering the Mercedes and the Lamborghini were safely locked away in the garage. Nevertheless, it was definitely a car coming to the house, and they both showed their consternation.

  ‘Richard …’ breathed Olivia faintly, but Alex shook his head impatiently.

  ‘It can’t be!’

  The engine had died away now, and unable to bear the suspense, Olivia wrenched open the study door and emerged into the hall just as the outer door opened. Her stepbrother came into the house, carrying his own suitcase, his briefcase tucked under his arm as he used his free hand to put away the keys he had used to open the door. Now she could hear the sound of the car accelerating away, and realised he must have taken a cab from the airport.

  He was not immediately aware of her presence. Maybe the lateness of the hour and the fact that the lights were out at the front of the house had persuaded him that she would be in bed, and she was able to look at him for a moment unobserved.

  He looked tired, she thought, and guessed he had not spared himself to get back sooner than he had expected. Yet, for all that, his hair still had that lustrous darkness where the lamps in the hall highlighted it, and his dark blue business suit was uncreased and immaculate. He carried a light gabardine coat over one shoulder, and as he straightened she couldn’t help remembering how he had last seen her alone.

  He saw her now, hovering hesitantly in the study doorway, Alex right behind, impatient to get past her and greet his employer.

  ‘Well, well,’ he drawled. ‘A welcoming committee! I never expected anything like this.’

  Alex at last succeeded in brushing past Olivia, and went to take Richard’s suitcase and briefcase from him. ‘Welcome home,’ he said, and Olivia knew he really meant it.

  ‘Thanks.’ Richard’s response was dry, his eyes interrogative on his stepsister’s. ‘Hello, Olivia. Don’t you have a word of greeting?’

  ‘Oh—oh, yes.’ Olivia dragged her gaze away from his with difficulty. ‘I—er—thought you weren’t coming home until tomorrow.’

  ‘I like it.’ Richard’s tones were jeering now, and she was glad of the shadows in the hall to disguise her quickened breathing and the way her fingers plucked nervously at her gown. ‘You certainly have a way of making a person feel wanted!’ His lids narrowed. ‘Come on, give me a kiss. Show me you don’t mean to be so ungracious.’

  Olivia’s throat was dry. He couldn’t be serious—not after what had happened between them. He couldn’t expect her to go and give him a kiss like the polite child she had used to be, welcoming him home from Australia or Japan, or any one of a dozen places he might have been.

  ‘Olivia …’

  He was walking towards her now, and it was all she could do not to back away from him into the study, and slam the door in his face.

  ‘It—it’s good to see you, Rich,’ she stammered, hands clenched at her sides, and as he drew nearer she saw the mocking amusement in his eyes. He knew how she was feeling, she guessed angrily, despising herself for not being able to fight him on his own terms.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Olivia,’ he assured her, halting in front of her. ‘I like this …’ He touched the off-the-shoulder neckline of her gown. ‘Is it new?’

  ‘I—why, yes. Yes. I bought it in London the day before yesterday.’

  ‘You were in London on Wednesday?’ Richard’s eyebrows descended, and suddenly Olivia knew exactly how to thwart him.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, uncaring of Alex’s warning frown from across the hall. ‘I’ve been to London lots of times since you went away.’ She paused a moment, allowing this to sink in. ‘You remember Jules, don’t you? He rang me a couple of days before you went away. Well, he’s been over making an album, and we’ve been seeing a lot of one another.’

  ‘Jules?’ Richard repeated the name quietly, and she was almost disappointed by his reaction. ‘This is—Jules Merignac, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ But Olivia didn’t feel half so triumphant now the secret was out.

  ‘I see.’

  Richard was nodding his head rather thoughtfully, unloosening the knot of his tie, and pulling it away from his neck. Then, just when she was thinking everything had gone enormously flat, he reached for her, convincing her once and for all that she should never take anything for granted, not even his apparent indifference.

  His mouth found hers with unerring accuracy, and because her lips had parted in protest against this unexpected assault, his kiss was moistly intimate and her hands groped for him as her legs shook beneath her.

  ‘I needed that,’ he murmured, for her ears only, as he drew back from her, and she trembled uncontrollably at the realisation that again he had robbed her of all resistance. It was doubly humiliating when he could turn back to his assistant without any apparent concern, and she guessed Alex had no conception of the intimacy of the embrace he had just witnessed.

  ‘Richard!’

  Bella’s eager exclamation heralded her appearance from the kitchen, and while her stepbrother goodnaturedly suffered Miss Ponsonby’s usual hug of welcome, Olivia made her escape. Bidding them all a choked goodnight, she fled up the stairs, but even when her door was closed and the key securely turned, her heart was still pounding heavily in her ears. She remembered belatedly that she had not thanked Richard for the Mercedes, but right now all she could think of was her own betraying senses …

  In spite of her anxieties, Olivia slept well. It had been a long and tiring day, and although Richard’s advent towards its close had been disturbing, she had exhausted herself both mentally and physically. She awakened to Eliza struggling to open the locked door, and sprang out of bed to turn the key, flushing in embarrassment at the maid’s speculative stare.

  ‘I—er—I must have locked it by mistake,’ she mumbled lamely, wishing she had wakened in time to avoid the inevitable question that any locked door evoked, and Eliza expressed her apologies for disturbing her. But she glanced rather thoughtfully towards the bathroom door before departing, and Olivia wondered in horror whether she imagined she had some man hiding in there.

  Drinking a cup of strong black coffee after Eliza had left her, however, Olivia remembered with apprehension why she felt such a crushing sense of depression, that had nothing to do with the maid’s behaviour. Richard was home, as unpredictable as before he left, and Jules was coming this afternoon.

  A shower refreshed her, and stepping into cream denims and a matching short-sleeved shirt, she brushed her hair by the windows. It was a hazy morning, promising of heat to come, and she hoped that at least the weather would not disappoint her. She wanted Jules to see Copley at its best, and besides, it would be so much harder to relax inside the house, knowing that Richard could come upon them at any moment. He might have left for the office, of course. Her spirits brightened momentarily. But it was not likely, not after a transatlantic flight, and its usual aftermath, and if Alex had told him she was expecting a visitor …

  She carried her tray downstairs to the kitchen, and found Bella humming as she turned bacon in a pan. Richard always preferred his bacon fried, not grilled, and Olivia guessed with a sense of resignation that he was having breakfast in bed.

  ‘Good morning,’ she said, expecting a hangover of the hostility of the night before, but Bella’s smile was friendly.

  ‘Good morning, dear,’ she greeted her warmly. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Very well, thank you.’ Olivia put down the tray and offloaded its contents on to the draining board. ‘Did you?’

 
‘Oh, yes,’ Bella nodded complacently. ‘Once I knew that Richard was home, safe and sound …’

  ‘Of course.’ Olivia couldn’t altogether hide the dryness of her tone, but Bella seemed not to notice.

  ‘He looked tired, didn’t you think,’ she continued reflectively. ‘He drives himself too hard. What he needs is a holiday, and I told him so.’

  Olivia stiffened. ‘Did you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Bella forked bacon on to a heated plate. ‘Apart from a few weekends here and there, he hasn’t had a proper holiday for years. Anyway,’ she lifted two eggs from a blue striped bowl and cracked them into the pan, ‘he said not to worry. You and he are going away in a couple of weeks, and he’ll get plenty of time to relax then.’

  Olivia had known what was coming, of course. She ought to have been prepared for it. But she wasn’t. However, meeting Bella’s challenging gaze, she decided not to argue. Arguing with Bella only resulted in a state of armed truce between them, and besides, her grievance was with Richard, not his housekeeper. Instead, she moved to the open doorway which gave on to the yard at the back of the house, and calmed herself with the knowledge that Richard couldn’t actually force her to do anything.

  ‘Would you like to take this up for me?’ Bella asked behind her, adding a rack of toast to the already laden tray. As well as bacon and eggs, there was freshly-squeezed orange juice, cereal, and some of Bella’s home-made marmalade, that was deliciously thick and chunky. A pot of coffee rested beside a bone-china cup and saucer, and Olivia was surprised she had not added a rose for good measure.

  A denial trembled on her lips, but again she was biting it back when Eliza came in from the garden, carrying an armful of runner beans. When she saw Bella with the tray in her hands, she hurried forward and took it from her, and Olivia was relieved of the necessity of either agreeing to the request or denying it.