Flash Point

by Jane Donnelly

  'This was after Josephine,' said Liam. 'And after the retreat from Moscow. He brought a small bodyguard and one of his generals.'

  'Josephine would have been nicer.' She sounded rueful, and Liam grinned,

  'He'd probably have agreed with you.'

  'Still, it's all very grand. I've never had a room like this before.' Carly ran her fingers down the carved post of the four-poster. There was still a feint impression on the damask coverlet where she had lain earlier today, when Liam had stood over her. She wanted to smooth it out, but she could hardly do that with both of them watching her. She looked away and around and Liam said, smiling, making a joke, 'What are you thinking about? That all this could be yours?'

  He knew why she had turned from the bed. He knew it had nothing to do with any plans of Madame Corbe's. She said, 'That's a crazy idea, so shut up about it, will you?' Roland was protesting, placating, but whatever it was he was saying hardly reached her. She seemed to be getting tunnel vision and hearing on to Liam, where he stood lounging, cat-like telling her, 'Crazy it is. Just remember that.'

  Then she heard Roland saying something about lunch and made herself look at him and managed to say, 'Lunch? Yes—lovely. I'm starving. All this climbing and walking.'

  Madame Corbe didn't join them for lunch. Her place was set, but the pleasant-faced woman who served the meals said that she was having something on a tray in her room. She was tired, she had said, and Carly asked, 'Does she do this often?'

  'No,' said Roland, as Carly looked anxiously from one man to the other. 'I'll give the doctor a ring,' he added, 'and see if there's anything we should be knowing.'

  The empty chair took away Carly's appetite and as soon as she could reasonably put down her knife and fork she asked, 'May I go up and see her?'

  'Of course,' said Liam. 'By the way, do you want William's card posted?'

  She hesitated, then decided, 'No, thanks, I think I'll hold on to it. It's that bit about him coming here for a holiday. He'd take that for a promise and maybe I couldn't keep it, and children expect promises to be kept.'

  'Didn't we all?' said Liam. 'It's something we grow out of.'

  'I suppose so,' she had to agree, adding wistfully, 'A pity, though.'

  Roland took her up to Madame Corbe's room, which was just along the corridor from Antoinette's room, knocked on the door, looked in and said, 'We missed you at lunch. Carly's come to sit with you for a while.'

  Madame Corbe lay on a sofa under the window, with some cold chicken and a salad that looked almost untouched, on a table beside her. 'Anything wrong?' asked Carly, and she smiled, 'Of course not, I'm just— tired, but come in my dear, come and sit down.'

  Antoinette's photograph in the oval silver frame was beside the bed. Carly sat in a small button-backed chair and Madame Corbe said, 'Liam says you want to move into Napoleon's room.'

  'Not that room in particular.' Carly looped hands over her knees and her eyes were grave and troubled. 'But I didn't feel I should be in Antoinette's. Liam told me no one else has ever slept in there and it doesn't seem right that I should try to take her place. I couldn't, you see. Never. Because I'm somebody else.'

  'Of course you are, my dear.' Madame Corbe looked across at the photograph and said gently, 'But in many ways you remind me of her, and isn't it natural that we should like those who bring back memories of our loved ones?'

  Yes, it was natural, and it would have been untrue and unkind to deny it. 'I remember ‑' Madame Corbe began, and Carly hadn't the heart to stop her, so she sat and listened to stories about Antoinette and smiled and thought what a golden childhood that must have been.

  'They used to call Roland and Antoinette the little sweethearts,' mused Madame Corbe, looking happy and animated now. 'Liam was always self-sufficient, even as a boy he never really needed anybody, but Roland and Antoinette seemed made for each other.'

  How could they be at nine years of age? Carly wondered. It was fairy-tale stuff, all dreams. She said, 'Liam told me that,' and went on in a rush, 'He also told me something else.' This was going to be very embarrassing, but she stammered on, 'He said—er— that maybe you asked me here because you thought that maybe Roland and I‑' but her words trailed away when Madame Corbe asked brightly,

  'And why not?'

  Carly had to set things straight right now. She stopped stammering and tried to sound reassuring. 'I'm sure Roland is going to settle down soon. He told me himself that he'd like to be married, he'd like to have children.' Madame Corbe was alight with delight and Carly went on hurriedly, 'But it won't be me. We're worlds apart, and we hardly know each other.' Liam knew her best, and Madame Corbe would have been horrified at the things that Liam knew.

  Carly stood up and said, 'I think I ought to go home.'

  'Oh no! Please. . .' Madame Corbe was grasping Carly's hand in her surprisingly strong grip. 'All I'm asking is that you both give yourself a chance to get to know each other.' That was what Roland had suggested, but Carly's instinct had been to recoil. Just as it was now. 'Now that's all. Now that isn't too-much to ask, is it?' Madame Corbe's breathing was quick and shallow, her lips were trembling, and how could Carly say, 'Too much, forget it?'

  She had to admit, 'No, I suppose it isn't. But please don't upset yourself. I'm sure it won't be long before you'll have grandchildren around you.'

  'Are you?' whispered Madame Corbe, and her eyelids fluttered. 'But I am so very tired.' She doesn't believe she has much time left, thought Carly, and a lump rose in her own throat that hurt when she spoke.

  'You must rest,' she said gently. 'I've kept you talking. Close your eyes now.'

  Madame Corbe lay back with a cushion behind her head and Carly gently smoothed the tendrils of hair away from the pale brow, then waited, sitting quietly, until Madame appeared to be sleeping.

  Roland was pacing the hall and Carly hurried down the stairs to ask, 'Did you speak to the doctor?'

  'Yes,' he said. 'How does she seem to you?'

  'Exhausted. Of course she's not young. Is she often like this?'

  'Only recently. She always had loads of energy.' They walked towards the open door of the drawing room where Liam stood at a window, his back towards them. 'Louis says,' said Roland, 'that this obsession that the family could end is putting undue strain on her heart. She's reconciled to Liam staying a bachelor, but he says the best treatment he can suggest is that you and I try falling in love.'

  Liam walked out on to the terrace and Carly said desperately, 'It doesn't have to be us. She'd settle for any girl she believed would make you a good wife. Oh, why did you let the near-misses get away?'

  'Well, right now,' said Roland, 'I'm going upstairs to tell her that I think you're a smasher and that we're getting on like a house on fire.'

  It worked. Madame Corbe came down to dinner looking rested and wanting to hear what everybody had been doing all afternoon; and Carly wondered uneasily just what Roland had told her earlier, because when the time came for her evening constitutional around the terrace she said, 'Liam, shall we leave Roland and Carly alone for a while?'

  Liam had been reading. He looked up from his book to ask, 'Why?' and Madame Corbe said plaintively, 'Because they might like to be alone. They might have things to discuss.'

  'Nothing, I hope, that we can't hear,' said Liam. But he got up and put her shawl round her shoulders and offered her his arm, and as they walked off together Carly hissed, 'What does she mean—things to discuss? She isn't suggesting you propose to me tonight, is she?'

  'That's what she'd like,' Roland chuckled. 'But I gather you wouldn't?'

  'I'd think we'd all gone mad,' she said. 'If I'd had any idea I was putting myself—and you—into this position, I'd never have come here. I was so near saying no, thank you.'

  'You were, weren't you?' He was remembering her reluctance. He asked, 'Why did you come?' and she said, 'Because you made it all sound lovely,' adding the real reason, 'And because Liam ordered me to stay away.' She grimaced, 'This is pretty awful for both o
f us, isn't it? Can you stand two weeks of it? Don't you think I ought to leave tomorrow?'

  'Not at all,' Roland said hastily. 'My only regret is that two weeks will pass too quickly. Don't be embarrassed. Don't let this spoil your holiday.'

  In a way the days did pass too quickly. After that evening nobody pressurised her at all. Madame Corbe seemed content to see Carly and Roland—and Liam— always together and obviously in high spirits. Roland kept up a light flirtation, which proved what Carly had realised from the beginning, that he was a charmer; and Liam was the most stimulating companion she had ever known. She had a wonderful holiday. '

  She sent a daily card to William, which was rather like keeping a diary. 'Today they put me on a horse called Mimi and I fell off.' She had approached the stables with trepidation, wearing jeans and jumper and sneakers and protesting that she wasn't all that keen on learning to ride, but Mimi seemed a reassuringly docile animal.

  Carly stroked her nose and fed her a lump of sugar and was glad she was so much smaller than the two huge prancing steeds that had also been led out of the stables. Mimi stood quite still while Carly was shoved up into the saddle, working her feet into the stirrups and being shown how to hold the reins. 'What do I do when she moves?' she asked, trying to smile.

  'You'll soon get the rhythm,' said Roland. 'Move with the horse.'

  That was unnecessary advice because the moment Liam and Roland turned away to mount their own horses Mimi threw back her head with a little whinny as though answering a distant rallying call, and moved off at a brisk trot.

  Liam called, 'Pull her up!' but Carly promptly lost the reins, bouncing high and hard and scared out of her wits, until Liam galloped alongside and leaned over. As soon as the horse felt a firm hold on the rein she stopped dead and Carly, who by now had lost the stirrups as well, rolled off with all the grace of a sack of potatoes.

  It was like the rocking horse all over again. And the donkey at the village fete. She was out of breath, shaken silly but unhurt, and as Liam and Roland jumped down beside her she hiccuped and began to giggle. It was nearly hysteria, but she caught that back and bit her lip and said, 'I told you. There's something wrong with me. I just don't have the right rhythm.' But she got the knack of it in the days that followed, and most mornings the three of them rode together over the countryside.

  Roland's wife would ride, of course, better than Carly ever could, and she hoped he didn't imagine he was grooming her for the part of future mistress of the Chateau des Sables. But there was no further mention of that, not even by Madame Corbe, and staying here Carly met girls who seemed to fit the bill far better than she did. .

  Visitors called. There were dinner parties. There were girls who were young and attractive and unmarried, and good luck to them, thought Carly. After the first week she was sure that the idea of a match between Roland and herself had blown over, but she would have a tale to tell Ruth when she got back home.

  She had spoken to Ruth a couple of times on the phone. When Liam returned to England there would be a conference about the business, and it really looked as though Ruth's boutique was going to get some backing. This was what the two girls talked about. Carly could hardly say on the Chateau phone, 'Guess why Madame Corbe got me out here. She wanted Roland to ask me to marry him, because I've got hair the colour of her granddaughter's.'

  When she did say that Ruth would ask, 'Did he?' and be disappointed when Carly said, 'No.' And then Carly would have to explain that it wouldn't have worked, it couldn't have happened, and Ruth would shriek, 'Who are you waiting for? What do you want out of life?'

  The Chateau was beautiful, magnificent. So was the countryside and the life they lived here. But Carly couldn't imagine growing old with Roland, This was a holiday romance, a brief and pleasant encounter with no future at all.

  'I sleep in Napoleon's room,' she wrote to William. 'He was a soldier, very brave and very fierce, and he stayed here a long time ago.'

  She slept soundly each night after happy and hectic days. Keeping up with Liam's idea of a holiday was no easy matter, but it was exhilarating. And so was he. He made her laugh at almost everything. He was a mine of information and a powerhouse of energy, but he made no demands and no passes, although there were times when Carly at least was so aware of the sexual electricity between them that she had to move away, because it made her feel dizzy.

  Most days they swam—usually around the island of the chapel—and this she was really going to miss when she was back home. She learned where the rocks were. You could see them below in the clear water, the ones far enough down to be safe, the danger-rocks just beneath the surface. Roland let her win when they raced, but Liam wouldn't. It amused him to see her furious determination when he turned his head and saw her coming up behind him, and why she tried Carly didn't know. Her two weeks were nearly up and she was never going to swim faster than he could, but she still couldn't resist calling, 'Race you!' as they ran into the waves.

  They always swam to the far side of the island and sometimes sunbathed on the turf under the ruined wall. This afternoon Roland and Liam were sunbathing and Carly was swimming, floating, playing around in the warm sun and the cool water—alone, she thought—when suddenly her ankle was seized and she was pulled down into the depths, hands outflung and hair streaming up.

  Then her ankle was loosed and Liam's shimmering face was level with hers. He smiled at her through the water, then drew her close and kissed her mouth with cold hard lips, and they floated to the surface hand in hand.

  'You idiot!' she spluttered. 'I thought a sexy old octopus had got me!'

  'You should be so lucky!' They swam back laughing and Carly scrambled up the shingle, up the turf, to Roland, gasping, 'Did you see that? He nearly frightened me to death!'

  She hadn't been frightened. The underwater kiss had been fun. She sat down, shaking water out of her hair, tingling and glowing from head to foot, still feeling Liam's arms around her.

  'Oh, I'm going to miss this,', she chattered. 'This time next week it will be the local pool for me»'

  'Why not stay on?' Roland reached across for her hand. 'Marry me and stay on,' and she realised that he wasn't smiling.

  She gulped, struck dumb. She had thought they had agreed that the matchmaking was preposterous, but he must have been assessing her day after day, and he believed she had been sizing him up too. He was in earnest. It was crazy, but he was.

  'Oh no!' she stammered. 'Oh, I don't think so.'

  'It's not a bad offer.' He still had her hand and she was hating hurting him. She said hastily and effusively,

  'It's an absolutely terrific offer. Believe me, there's nothing personal about this. I do like you very much, I think you're one of the nicest men I know and I do love it here—well, who wouldn't, it's a beautiful house, a beautiful place—but—oh, can't you see that the idea's crazy?'

  Liam suddenly loomed over them, as Roland said, 'So you said. That it was crazy. Why is it crazy?'

  'Because ‑' Carly began desperately.

  'Because,' drawled Liam, 'Carly and I are lovers. We slept together on our way here, and most nights since. Which might not make her marrying you crazy, but it would make it something of a calculated risk.'

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Carly felt punch drunk. She wanted to scream, but it came out in a croaking gasp, and Roland dropped her hand and jumped to his feet as though she had become radio-active. He laughed savagely, 'Oh, my God, what a fool I've made of myself! No wonder you wanted her to move bedrooms!'

  Antoinette's room was in another wing, but Napoleon's room meant that Carly and Liam were next door with Roland just along the corridor. 'Oh no . . .' Carly began, but Roland wasn't listening, to her or to anybody. He ran from them, plunging into the sea and pulling away in a fast furious crawl, reminding her how Barney had rushed down those steps in Birmingham airport. Liam certainly knew how to make men hellbent on getting away from her, and she said bitterly, 'By the time he's swum to shore he should have washed off m
y degrading touch.'

  'He should have cooled down.' Liam sounded cool, although what he had just done was monstrous. If she and Roland had been falling in love a lie like that would have poisoned everything, because she couldn't prove it was a lie.

  Roland envied Liam. There was a close brotherly link between them, but Roland thought Liam was the winner with women, with everything. He might not have been swayed by arguments that Carly was a gold-digger—he might have made up his own mind on that, since he'd spent time in her company—but he would believe that she and Liam were lovers.

  She watched Roland's dark head, the lift of his arms, and thought, My heart could be breaking. It wasn't, because she wasn't in love with him, but she felt sick with misery and she said harshly, 'You need not have bothered to lie, I wasn't accepting.'

  Liam just said, 'It was a risk I daren't take.' No apology, and no explanation except that obviously he hadn't changed his mind about her. All this holiday when she had fooled herself that they were friends he had still been watching her, protecting his family against her.

  He didn't have to 'save' Roland. Carly could have extricated herself from that without a scene, and now there could be all sorts of unpleasantness and she was only thankful that she was leaving tomorrow. She wished she could leave now. Lord knows what she would have to face when she got back to the Chateau. Roland thought he had been cheated and fooled and there could be the most almighty row.

  She got up. She felt old and tired, and her limbs seemed so heavy that she wondered if she could manage the swim back to the mainland. But she couldn't stay here till the tide went out. She would rather drown than stay with Liam, and he showed no sign of moving. He looked at her stone-faced, and she wanted to hurl her contempt at him. She should be boiling with anger, but instead she was shivering with cold, every emotion but misery drained out of her.

  She muttered wearily, 'Oh, to hell with you!' then walked to the water's edge and waded in, and began to swim. The water buoyed her, cradling her. She was a strong swimmer, this was no distance, but she swam blind, less from the salt spray than from the tears that were pouring down her cheeks. If she had to weep this was the time. Once she reached dry land she must stay dry-eyed.