'I see.'
Exasperated, Samantha swung round to face him, an angry flush of colour staining her cheeks. 'Is that all you're going to say? Aren't you going to demand to know how he came to be here, and what he wanted?'
There was a frightening calmness about Brett as he placed the delicate china cup in the tray and rose to his feet, placing her at an immediate disadvantage, for she now had to crane her neck to look up at him.
'Clive knew you were here because I dropped a few hints in the right places, and he took the bait just as I knew he would.'
She stared at him in absolute silence, unable at first to grasp what he had said then, as comprehension dawned, she clenched her hands tightly at her sides.
'How typical ! Brett Carrington, the manipulator of people's lives ' she lashed out. 'Why did you want to make sure that we met?'
'I wanted you to get him out of your system, once and for all.'
Samantha drew a careful breath. 'I don't suppose it occurred to you that I might not want to see him again? That such a meeting was quite unnecessary?' Flames of anger leapt along her veins. 'Did you hope I would discredit you?'
'You're jumping to conclusions,' he said harshly. 'You're deliberately trying to find hidden meanings behind simple statements, and coming up with the wrong answers.'
'Am I finding the wrong answers?' she demanded cynically. 'If I am then you've given me no reason to think differently.'
'I'm losing patience with you, Samantha.'
'Perhaps, but why did you lie to me?' she asked, ignoring the look of warning in his glance.
'To the best of my knowledge I've never lied to you, Samantha,' he replied bluntly, thrusting his hands into his pockets. 'What in particular are you referring to?'
'You told me Clive was married.'
'And you've now discovered that the woman concerned was merely his current mistress?' he asked mockingly. 'My informant took it for granted that they were married when he found the flat registered in the name of Mr and Mrs C. Wilmot. Later, when I discovered this was not so, I didn't think it would matter whether I told you or not. You were by that time already my wife.'
`So you deliberately left me to think otherwise. After all, it had done the trick. I'd married you practically on the strength of that information,' she accused as a wave of bitterness engulfed her. 'How fortunate for you! '
Brett's eyes darkened with anger and his fingers bit into her shoulders causing a physical agony she almost welcomed. 'If you think I'll release you so that you can marry Clive, then you're mistaken.'
'I don't want to marry Clive ' she almost shouted, a look of distaste flashing across her face. 'He's the most revolting specimen it's ever been my misfortune to know!'
'Samantha .' He gave her a quick look and his hand slid across her shoulder to the nape of her neck. The caress brought her to the edge of tears, but she held them back.
`Please, there's something I must know.'
'What is it?'
Samantha shut her mind to the delicious tremors his caressing fingertips were producing. She could not relax until she knew the truth and only then would .this ter-
HANDFUL OF STARDUST
rible tension leave her. Her eyes were beseeching as she raised them to his. 'If in the past you haven't always been honest with me, be honest with me now, Brett. Please? I must know the truth.'
His lips relaxed Slightly. 'Whatever it is that's so important to you, you can depend on a truthful reply.'
'Does your father's will stipulate that, if you haven't produced an heir by the age of forty, you lose your inheritance?'
His fingers ceased their caressing movements against the back of her neck and his hands fell slowly away from her as she held her breath and waited for the reply she dreaded.
'Who told you that?' he demanded harshly, and Samantha moved an involuntary step away from him. 'It was Clive who wrote and told me.'
'And you believed him?' he echoed Gillian's query. 'What else was I to do?' she pleaded anxiously, ignoring the cold fury of his glance. 'Is it true?'
'Yes, it is.'
There was a pounding at her temples as she expelled the air from her lungs and turned away from him wearily, her voice sounding strangled as she said: 'That's ... all I wanted to know.'
She moved without realising it, stumbling into the bedroom in her anxiety to get away from this man who had used the foulest weapon in his possession with which to hurt her, and he had done so without the slightest sign of regret. She fell across the bed and dropped her head on to her arms as the tears came. Slow, convulsive sobs tore at her throat and racked her body even as she felt the bed sag beneath Brett's weight. He made no attempt to touch her until her torrent of weeping had ended, leaving her exhausted and clutching at the blue silk bedspread.
'Samantha, listen to me.'
'I don't think I want to hear more,' she said thickly, shrugging off his touch. 'I've heard enough.'
'You're going to hear more whether you like it or not,' he insisted and it was useless ignoring the authority in his voice as he pressed a clean linen handkerchief into her hands. 'Sit up, dry your eyes ... and listen! '
Physically spent, Samantha could only wait while Brett lit a cigarette and paced the floor like a caged lion. A frightened pulse throbbed in her throat as she waited for him to speak, dreading to hear what he had to say, while at the same time knowing that nothing could hurt her more than he had already done.
He stopped beside her but still made no attempt to to touch her. 'I ought to take you across my knee for harbouring such thoughts about me, but then I can't blame you entirely. We haven't exactly been completely honest with each other in the past, and the lack of it was bound to cause misunderstandings.' His expression hardened. 'I'm to blame for that. I should have known better.'
Samantha felt as though she could hardly breathe as he turned away from her and resumed his pacing. Her eyelids felt heavy, her heart considerably heavier with doubt, confusion and hope clamouring through her. This was the moment of truth, she realised, but she cowered from it mentally, dreading what she might hear, while at the same time knowing that she would not rest until she knew it all.
'When I said just now that Clive's information was correct, I was not being completely truthful,' Brett began brusquely, his firm mouth unrelenting. 'My father had a notion that if a man wasn't married before the age of forty; he would never marry at all. He and I discussed his will at great length before his death. If I failed to produce an heir before the age of forty, then my cousin David's eldest son would inherit the business —but only after my death. But if, after the age of forty, I should marry someone young enough to produce an heir, that clause falls away and my children naturally inherit.' He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray and turned to face her for a moment, his expression cynical, yet slightly sad. 'It was simply meant as a precaution to keep the business in the Carrington family. It was something Nadine often teased me about. "Hurry up and marry," she used to say, "or you lose your inheritance." Obviously Clive took this seriously.'
Samantha was filled with remorse and intense relief, but she failed to see the connection between Clive and Nadine. Her eyes brimmed with tears, and she would have gone to him at that moment had she not realised that there was more to come.
'I'll tell you about Nadine, and I think that the best place to start is four years ago,' Brett continued, and she was instantly aware of an underlying anger beneath his controlled movements. He thrust his hands into his pockets and ceased his pacing to stand at the window with his back to her. 'My -sister Nadine was young—your age now. She had led a very sheltered life and I'm afraid that, after the death of our parents when she was still in her teens, I may have spoiled her to a large extent. On one of her infrequent trips to Port Elizabeth she met Clive Wilmot and she was instantly swept off her feet.' The missing pieces in the puzzle were falling into place with shocking clarity. 'He promised her the world, but he was as much a fake then as he is now. He wanted to marry her, bu
t when he discovered that I held the purse strings until she reached the age of twenty-five, and perhaps even after that if I thought it necessary, he dropped her flat.'
There was a savagery in his voice that frightened her and tore at her heart simultaneously. He was reliving painful memories that would have been best forgotten had they not become so vitally important to their future.
'It was not long before Nadine discovered that she was going to have a baby. She contacted Clive, begging him to marry her, but he made it quite clear that he had no intention of being saddled with a wife who had no control over her money, as well as a child. After that he promptly vanished without trace.' Brett turned to her then and she was surprised at the bitterness on that strong angular face and in the eyes that sought hers in the dimness of the room. 'Nadine couldn't take it, and before I could do anything to help her, she drove her car through the rails at the highest point on the Olifantskop Pass at a time when I was flying back to the farm. When I found her farewell note it was already too late to save her.'
There was silence for a moment, while Samantha looked away. Then, 'Brett, I'm sorry,' she murmured inadequately.
'I saw Clive again for the first time in three years that evening you and I met in the garden of this hotel,' he continued almost as if she had not spoken. 'It was providence, but the desire to crush him was no longer there.'
Driven with compassion, she went to him. 'Why didn't you explain all this to me at the time?'
His lips twisted cynically. 'Would you have believed me?'
Samantha lowered her glance guiltily. 'I suppose not, but it might have made all the difference in the world at the time.'
'You were young and innocent, and in that respect
you reminded me of Nadine,' he said harshly, turning away from her almost as if he could not bear to have her near. 'I had to prevent you from making the same mistake, so I arranged for Clive to be sent away. I spent time with your father, getting to know him and discovering that we had a mutual concern—your involvement with Clive which could only lead to disaster.'
Samantha recalled vividly those evenings Brett had spent with her father. It was all so clear now that she was amazed at her ignorance at the time.
An involuntary smile plucked at her lips. `So you practically abducted me, with the help of my father.'
'I couldn't keep Clive away from Port Elizabeth indefinitely,' he replied, his formidable back turned firmly towards her. 'At the same time your father had problems of his own to contend with. He really had no choice about, taking that transfer to Cape Town, and he was torn between leaving you behind to fall into Clive's clutches, and taking an unwilling daughter with him.'
'I ... didn't know.'
Poor Daddy, she thought. How difficult she must have made it for him by her selfish desire to stay close to Clive, a man who was less than the dust beneath Brett's expensive leather shoes.
'There was only one solution to the problem.. My farm manager, Ted Oosthuizen, was taking his annual leave, which meant that I would have to spend that month on the farm.' Brett turned to her then, his expression as formidable as his back. 'The rest you know.'
She was very conscious of the arrogant set of his head upon his broad shoulders, and the feel of his dark hair so crisp beneath her fingertips, but there was still something she had to know.
'Was marrying me part of the plan?'
'I hoped it would be.'
They faced each other in silence until the agonising question that hovered on her lips was finally uttered. 'Brett, why did you marry me?'
'Before I answer that, I shall ask you one question?'
he said tersely. 'Do you have any feelings left for Clive?' 'No! He's the most hateful man I've ever met!'
He nodded his head as though satisfied. 'Good. Now
the rest is up to you, Samantha.'
`Up to ... to me?' there was tension in the air as she met his glance unfalteringly. It was almost as if Brett were trying to convey a message to her which she was too frightened to grasp. 'Brett, if your reason for marrying me was not merely to save me from a fate similar to Nadine's, or because of your father's will, then ...' She faltered, unsure of herself in that supreme moment of sacrificing her pride in the strengthening knowledge of what she had to do. When she eventually found her voice she stumbled blindly through her confession while unshed tears threatened to choke her. 'Brett, I love you, and ... God knows I'll do anything to make you care ... just a little.'
'All you have to do is tell me again that you love me. It's what I've been waiting for all this time, to hear you say—Brett, I love you.' There was a new look of tender amusement in his dark eyes, and her heart leapt with joy as she found herself in his arms, her glowing Face pressed into the hollow of his shoulder. 'You see, my darling, it didn't take me very long to realise that I'd fallen in love with you. I've loved you almost From the first moment I looked into your remarkable violet blue eyes, but I was too proud to admit it while I thought you still loved Clive.'
His lips found hers and she clung to him while she
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experienced a happiness that pulsated through her with a force that left her weak. Nothing mattered at that moment except that sure knowledge that he loved her, and the unhappiness which had been her constant companion for so long seemed to evaporate into the mist of oblivion as she felt his arms tightening about her.
`Brett ...' she sighed with melting warmth against his lips. 'Darling, I've been such a fool `No, Samantha, my dearest heart,' he contradicted as a solitary tear found its way down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb and placed his lips against her closed eyelid. 'A little confused perhaps, but never a fool.'
'I've doubted you so much, and I've had such uncomplimentary thoughts about you.'
'I shall make you pay for each one of them, like this ... and this ...' He kissed her repeatedly with a growing passion that ignited a flame of desire within her. He trembled suddenly and with a groan released her. 'Samantha, I must know. When did you discover that Clive no longer meant anything to you?'
A tremulous smile hovered on lips still warm and tingling from his kisses. 'Long before I discovered that I loved you.'
'And when was that?' he asked suspiciously.
A delicate colour stained her cheeks but she met his glance unwaveringly. 'That time you went away and left me with an ultimatum.'
`Ah,' his expression lightened with gentle mockery, 'perhaps I should have delivered that ultimatum sooner!'
She was in his arms again, thrilling to the touch of his lips and hands and welcoming the storm of emotions sweeping through her. The rain lashed against the window panes, yet in her heart the sun was shining
with a warmth that filled her being. Below their window the young willow trees were sprouting green leaves and, without intending to, she recalled Rosa's peculiar message.
'Rosa was right,' she whispered, inhaling the familiar smell of shaving lotion and tobacco as she slipped her arms inside his jacket, feeling the pleasant warmth of him as she pressed closer. 'The young leaves of spring are sprouting on the trees and I've found my star of happiness. You,' she added dreamily.
`So you did take it seriously after all,' he laughed against her smooth neck.
`Yes, I must have,' she admitted, trying to avoid those conquering lips a moment longer. 'The love I thought I had for Clive was like a handful of stardust. It was of so little substance that it trickled through my fingers unnoticed.'
'How can you be sure that you really love me?'
She held him off with her hands against his chest and felt the heavy beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. `Brett, I love you so much that I was prepared to accept the fact that you married me solely to keep your inheritance, and I would have made the best of our marriage because ... to leave you ...' Her voice faltered while her heart was in her eyes for him to see the love she had so foolishly hidden from him. 'Darling, I would rather die than have to live without you.'
S
amantha's son was born early one April morning at Carrington's Post. She had held the small pink bundle in her arms with awe-inspiring wonder until tiredness had overwhelmed her and she was forced to relinquish her cherished possession into the capable hands of the nurse Brett had employed to help with the baby until her strength was restored.
Brett came to her eventually after seeing off the family doctor, and he stood staring down at her for immeasurable seconds with a look of such deep devotion that it brought happy tears to her eyes.
'My darling wife,' he murmured, lying down beside her on the bed and gathering her into his arms. 'I died a thousand deaths these past few hours for fear I would lose you.'
'But everything went off so perfectly,' she protested, weak with happiness as she pressed her lips against his warm neck. 'Are you happy with your son?'
'My happiness is so complete at this moment, my darling,' he said in a voice vibrating with emotions as he traced a loving finger along the fine bone structure of her face. 'You've given me more than I ever dreamed possible.'
Samantha turned fully towards him and wound her arms about his neck. love you so much, Brett.'
'My darling,' he whispered after a long and satisfying kiss, his glance teasing as he looked down at her. 'I shall have to get used to sharing you now.'
She laughed softly as she pulled his head down towards hers and pressed her lips against the greying hair at his temples. 'My husband, my love, my life. I shall always be there when you need me.'
She felt his lips, warm and tender against her own, and with a contented sigh she slept in his arms and knew that her dreams would be filled with the wonder of his love. A love that found an ever-increasing echo in her heart.
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