Microsoft Word - rooted sorrow.doc

by Amanda Cameron

  But what be had to tell her, she never knew. For at that moment the bedroom door opened, and Pia stood there, tall and voluptuous in a black lace negligee that barely skimmed her rich figure, her white breasts swelling up from its plunging neckline, the bronze hair cascading on pale shoulders and violet eyes smouldering in the soft glow of the lamp.

  Libby felt at the neck of her cotton housecoat, reflecting ruefully on the contrast she and the glamorous Contessa must make. Her short hair was still damp from the shower and she ran distracted fingers through it. God, hadn't she had enough for one day? And she couldn't even run away and leave them-not when they were in her own bedroom!

  'So this is where you are, caro,' Pia drawled, the fluid Italian accent soft in her throat. 'I woke and you were not there . . .' the implication was obvious and Libby felt bitterness like nausea in her mouth. 'So the wanderer has returned.' The violet eyes flickered over Libby, taking in the simple housecoat and the slender, almost boyish figure. 'Was there something you wanted, little one?'

  'Nothing,' Libby answered coldly, keeping her eyes away from Keir. 'Just a good night's rest, if you don't mind.'

  'And I am sure Keir is only too pleased to see that you have it.' Pia walked across to Keir and slid her arm through his. 'Such a good host, are you not, caro?' she murmured. 'Even the inconsiderate guest is looked after so well, no? But you can see that the little one wants only to sleep so come with me, and let us all do the same.'

  Keir glanced down at her, his eyes masked. Then he seemed to come to life. He pulled his arm firmly away from her and put her gently to one side. Then, ignoring the sudden anger of the purple eyes, he moved across the room to Libby and laid his hand on her shoulder.

  'You just won't take telling, will you, Pia?' he said, his voice hard. 'God knows I've tried to break it gently today, but you just don't want to listen. So here it is, straight. Libby is the girl I love-the girl I want to marry. And she loves me too, though she tries not to show it. So far you've stood in our way, but not any longer.' He turned to Libby, looked down into her eyes and the emotion in his own was naked, no longer masked, no longer hidden. It blazed out of him and she caught her breath, realising that she could stand against it no longer. Whatever else might happen, this was genuine, and if she hadn't seen it before, she must have been blind.

  'You will marry me, won't you, Libby?' he demanded urgently. 'For God's sake say yes-say it now. Stop this hell we've both been living in and make Pia see the truth--or else leave me. Because I can't take any more of this, I swear I can't!'

  Libby stared up at him, hypnotised by the burning eyes. She could see now that every word he spoke was true. He did love her-whatever had happened in between. And that love had endured, lived through two years of separation, survived an accident that had left a great hole in his life. He might never remember what bad happened during that time, but it no longer mattered. They belonged together and no more time must be wasted.

  'Yes, Keir,' she whispered, not caring that Pia stood looking on with furious, jealous eyes. 'Yes, I'll marry you-tomorrow if you like. Oh, Keir-' But she wasn't allowed to get any further. The Italian girl, shaking with rage now, her eyes huge pools of malevolence in her ashen face, stepped forward, her jaw thrust out, her hands clenched into angry fists.

  'Marry?' she rasped, and her voice was ugly now. 'Keir, what nonsense is this? Are you hoping to make me jealous? You cannot really mean this ridiculous proposal-not after what that girl did to you?' They both turned to look at her. 'Oh yes. I know all about it!' she went on, her voice shrilling through the room.

  'Do you imagine that he never told me? We were close there were no secrets between us! Yes, I know all about it-all about your infidelity, your perfidy!'

  'You do?' Keir said grimly, while Libby clung to him, shivering with fear that even now Pia might split them apart with' lies. 'Then let me hear it.'

  'Oh no.' Pia attempted a return to her old seductive drawl. 'Not here, caro-in private. Where this one cannot interrupt with her lies.'

  'Leaving you free to tell yours,' Keir commented. 'It's no use, Pia. We've had all day together and I can see that you might have satisfied my-appetite-once. It's clear that it was your appetite too. But love-no.

  We would never have got within a mile of love, you and I. And now that I've found the girl I really did love-

  ' his arm tightened about Libby's shoulders. '-I'm afraid anything we had is over. I did tell you I'd been trying to break it gently,' he added quietly.

  Pia stood quite still. She looked from one to the other and Libby saw that although her magnificent chest still heaved with anger, she was controlling it. But there was no disguising the spite that still flickered in her eyes, and when she spoke her voice was sharp with malice.

  'So there is nothing else for it,' she said in brittle tones. 'You will have to know it all. I had meant to tell you this in a different way, Keir, caro mio. When we were alone-perhaps when we were warm and contented after love. But the occasion has not arisen, and now you must know in a less romantic way.' There was triumph in the glance she flicked at Libby then. 'You will not leave me and marry this little English miss, Keir. I can tell you that. You will not even think of it. Because if you do, you will be abandoning not only me, but your child. Your own child-your son, perhaps, or your daughter. And I think that you are not the man to do such a thing-am I right?' The triumph was blazing in her face now, and Libby felt a coldness creep over her body, turning her heart to ice. 'Yes, Keir, I am carrying a child-your child-and I intend that it should have its own father. Can you really deny that?'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE silence was absolute. Libby backed away and sank down on her bed, cold with horror. Keir and Pia stared at each other; Pia with gloating victory, Keir with a sick, shocked whiteness.

  'Well?' Pia challenged him. 'Are you ready to deny your son? For I am sure it will be a son, Keir. A son made from our love,' she added caressingly, and Libby turned her face away.

  'How-how far-' Keir began huskily, and Pia smiled. '

  'I am just over three months pregnant. Oh yes, it is quite certain-you may have a doctor's confirmation if you wish, but time will soon begin to tell. There is no doubt about it, Keir, none at all.'

  'And how long have you known?'

  Pia shrugged. 'For six, seven weeks I have been certain. You are wondering why I did not come to tell you the good news at once-or at least write, or phone. But all was not so easy, Keir. For one thing, I was not entirely sure of my own feelings.' The violet eyes taunted him. 'It is a serious thing for a woman, you realise-marriage. I had to decide whether I wanted you to be the father of my child. '

  A deliberate barb to rouse Keir's pride, Libby thought hopelessly, and it seemed to have worked. Keir's tanned face flushed and his eyes glittered. But he spoke calmly enough.

  'And you decided eventually in my favour.'

  'But of course.' Again that eloquent shrug. 'There really wasn't much doubt, was there? Not after the time we had together . . . But I found those early weeks trying, Keir. You know-the sickness on rising, the tiredness. I did not want to travel feeling so, and I did not wish to come to you in such a condition. Now-she held out her hands. '-I am full of life again-in truth, yes?'

  Keir turned away. His shoulders were bowed and Libby, watching him, knew that this was defeat. Pia had played her trump card, and it had proved to be an ace. There was no way they could get around this.

  'Well, Keir?' Pia said softly.

  Keir's voice was ragged. 'We'll talk about it in the morning. I need time to think-we all do.'

  'I need no time,' Pia said. 'I have had plenty. But if that is your wish-' She could afford to be magnanimous, Libby thought, knowing that she had won. 'So, we will meet for breakfast, yes? And you-'

  The beautiful eyes flashed venom at Libby '-you may as well begin to pack now. You must surely see that there is nothing, nothing whatever for you here. '

  Libby didn't answer-she couldn't. Her throat ached and she
wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep, forgetting this nightmare. Oh, if only it were a nightmare, she thought despairingly. If only she could wake up in her own flat in London, with all this a jumbled figment of her imagination. But it was all too real, and she knew quite well that it would still be going on tomorrow. And the next day, and the next, and the next ...

  She looked up to find Keir's eyes fixed on her, and knew that he was begging for her help. But there was nothing she could do. Things had gone beyond her now; this situation was between him and Pia and was nothing to do with her any more. There could be no more comforting, no more promises.

  Pia was right. She might as well start packing now.

  There was nothing for her on Malta any more. Nothing.

  Libby was up early next morning. She had slept very little and her eyes looked bruised as she quickly packed her bags. During the dark, endless night her thoughts had whirled about her brain until she thought she would go mad. But by the time the grey dawn had crept through the unshuttered windows, bringing the room into a vague shape again, she had come to a decision.

  As Pia had. said, she might as well go at once. Only Keir could cope with the situation now, and Libby's continued presence could only be a distraction. And could only mean added pain for both Keir and herself.

  The bells of the church had just begun to ring for six o'clock Mass as she slipped out of the quiet flat.

  Presumably Pia and Keir were still sleeping-apart, from what had been said. And she gave Keir a mental apology for her thoughts about him and the Contessa yesterday. Apparently, he had not succumbed to her charms, and Libby had wronged him in thinking that he would.

  Not that it made any difference now. Pia must have known all the time that she would win-she had been just playing them along, as a cat does a mouse, tormenting them by letting them get a little way away, then jerking ~m back, and repeating the exercise for her own amusement before making the final kill.

  Libby set her cases down at the corner of the street, wondering what to do next. It was too early for a bus or a taxi, and she didn't much fancy wandering the streets of Zurrieq with her luggage, under the curious eyes of the Maltese. And at any time, Keir might discover her absence and come after her.

  Jeremy! He had a room at the edge of the village-he had pointed out the house to her once. And she needn't worry about waking the household, most people were up and about by now and there were already women coming back from the shops with fresh bread or gathering round the vans and carts that brought vegetables, fruit and fish to their doors every morning.

  Picking up her luggage again, Libby walked through the twisting alleys, through the square and past the Armeria, where several of the grandmasters had kept weapons to supply the surrounding villages. She plunged into the maze of streets on the other side and eventually, after several rests and two or three wrong turns, found the house where Jeremy was lodging.

  Yes, he was in, the plump Maltese woman- told her, her eyes bright with interest as she glanced past Libby at the luggage behind her. Perhaps the lady would like to come inside and rest while she told Mr Brooke he had a visitor.

  Libby sat down thankfully and waited. Jeremy had never been known for early rising, she remembered, and it was several minutes before he appeared looking as if he had hastily dipped his head in a bowl of cold water and scrambled into the first pair of shorts and shirt he had come to. At least he didn't have to shave!

  'Libby?' Jeremy's brown eyes were anxious. 'What's happened?' he saw her cases and his eyebrows shot up. 'What is it?'

  'I'm leaving: Libby said baldly, and her eyes filled with tears.

  Jeremy scooped her up into his arms. He held her close and she let her head drop on to his chest while she wept, feeling the tears that had been building up through all the sleepless, dry-eyed night, flow like a suddenly undammed river. She was conscious of Jeremy's arms, warm and strong around her; aware of his hand stroking her short hair, and she remembered what he had said yesterday in Mellieha. He would stand by her, she knew. But as no more than a friend-she had to make that clear. Her emotions were too badly bruised to let her think of love again, ever.

  'Tell me what's happened,' Jeremy said at last in a gentle voice, and she lifted her face and wiped her streaming eyes with the hanky he gave her.

  'Pia's pregnant,' she told him. 'She told Keir last night-after I arrived. She's carrying Keir's child, Jeremy, and there's nothing anyone can do about it.' Jeremy whistled. 'Pregnant! Are you sure- sure it's true?'

  Libby shrugged. 'She says she'll have a medical examination if Keir doesn't believe her. Anyway, she's three months-it would start to show in a few weeks. I don't think there's any doubt about it, Jeremy.'

  Jeremy sucked in his top lip. 'No wonder you want to leave.' He moved away from her as his landlady came in with a tray of coffee. 'Here, have a hot drink. You look as though you need it. Then we'll give this matter some thought.' He poured Libby a large cup of coffee, which she accepted gratefully, then made her a thick ham sandwich which she couldn't eat.

  'There's nothing to think about,' she said. 'It's allover as far as I'm concerned, Jeremy. Pia means to marry Keir and she's holding all the cards now. All I can do is get out of the way-maybe it'll be easier for him then.'

  Jeremy sighed. 'It's all wrong, Libby. Pia was never the woman for Keir, and you are. You're leaving him to a life of misery. '

  'And what else can I do?' she asked with a flash of anger. 'It isn't just Keir we have to think about now.

  There's a child-his child. He's not even denying it, Jeremy. He'll have to marry her.'

  'Will he? Do people have shotgun marriages these days?'

  'Not in England, perhaps,' Libby said quietly. 'But Pia isn't English. She's Italian-and that makes a difference.'

  'A shotgun marriage-s-and no divorce.' Jeremy shook his head. 'It's a hell of a decision/Libby.'

  'But it's not my decision,' she reminded him. 'And it's a decision that was really made three months ago. It might even have been deliberate-On Keir's part as much as on Pia's.'

  'I don't believe that!' Jeremy exclaimed, but there was a tinge of doubt in his voice.

  Libby took a drink of coffee, feeling the hot liquid warm and comfort her shivering body a little. 'There's really nothing to discuss, is there?' she said. 'I just came to you for transport really, Jeremy. Will you take me to the airport? I'd like to go back to London as soon as possible, before->' Her voice broke and Jeremy put his hand on her shoulder.

  'Yes, of course I will,' he said soberly. 'And I'm damned sorry it's turned out this way. I hoped-well, you know what I hoped.' He paused. 'This probably isn't the time to say it, but I may not get another chance.

  Remember what I told you yesterday-I'm here if you want me. Any time-s-just let me know. Remember that, won't you?'

  'I'll remember,' Libby said, and smiled up at him tremulously.

  'Now,' he said, finishing the sandwich that Libby had left on her plate, 'you really are determined to go back to London straight away?'

  'Yes. It's the only thing I can do.' Libby looked at him, her eyes the colour of clouds. 'Will I be able to get a flight, do you think?'

  ~Well, we'll have to see.' He glanced at his watch. 'I'll phone the airport right away. I should think there'll be something, but you never know, sometimes the flights are pretty full. '

  He went out of the room, leaving Libby with some fresh coffee, and she could hear him using the telephone in another room. She wondered if Keir were awake yet, if he had discovered her absence.

  Surely he wouldn't follow her-he must realise this was the only action she could take. And she didn't believe that he would refuse to marry Pia, not if she was expecting his child. Keir was a man of powerful integrity--she remembered his own care for her during their engagement-and that was something that wouldn't have changed.

  Libby sighed and gazed out of the window at the narrow street. A line of poetry had come to her mind during the night-what was it? Something
from:

  Shakespeare, something she remembered from school '. . . memory, a rooted sorrow . . .' Memory had certainly proved a 'rooted sorrow' for Keir and for herself, with complications that no one could have foreseen.

  Jeremy came back, frowning a little, and her heart sank. Hadn't he been able to book a seat for her after all? Her eyes questioned him, and he shook his head ruefully.

  'Nothing until tomorrow, I'm afraid,' he reported. 'A lot of people have been taking late holidays-maybe it's school half-term or something. But I'm afraid it means you have to stay on Malta for another day. '

  Libby bit her lip. 'And this is one of the first places Keir will look,’ she said. 'At least-I hope he won't look for me. But I'm afraid he will.'

  'I think so, too.' Jeremy thought for a moment. 'We'll have to find you somewhere else to stay. Where do you think will be best?'

  Libby shrugged. 'I suppose Valletta-it's the most crowded. Or Rabat.' She thought wistfully of the peace of Medina. 'I don't really care, Jeremy. I just want to keep out of Keir's way. '

  'And I'm not keen on leaving you alone.' Jeremy looked at her. 'Well, I don't suppose Keir will be wanting me today. I'll come with you and we'll have a tour round some of Malta's remoter spots. It'll pass the time, if nothing else. You can stay somewhere in Valletta for the night and I'll take you to the airport tomorrow.

  That suit you?'

  'I suppose it will have to,' Libby sighed. A day's sightseeing, with the risk of running into Keir at any time, was the last thing she needed just now. Then she realised how ungracious she sounded and gave Jeremy a rueful smile. 'Yes, it will be fine, Jeremy. I'm really grateful to you. This isn't easy for you either, is it?' -

  'Not so as you'd notice, no. But I'm on the outside-I just wish I could do more to help.' He sighed again. 'I wish I hadn't left Keir in Rome to go to London and come on here. It means that Pia is the only person who knows just what happened in those weeks-it puts her in altogether too strong a position.'

  'I don't see that it would have made any difference,' Libby said pessimistically. 'You still couldn't have prevented what happened.'