The Runaway Bride

by Lucy Gillen

  CHAPTER NINE

  ' SAMANTHA managed to get herself a room at the Stag again in Bowness. She even managed to get the same room. It was some feeling of nostalgia, she realised, that had made her come here again, and she wondered how different she would find it being on her own. She left the hotel the following morning to go tor a walk along the lakeside, among the trees. It was quiet and peaceful and the sun through the branches had a tranquillising effect that she appreciated in her present mood. No one to bother her, no one to argue with and, she realised ruefully, no one to talk to either. It was infuriating, but the tears were gathering in her eyes again, and she impatiently brushed them away with the back of a hand. She had absolutely no reason to cry and it was becoming an increasingly annoying habit that she must break before she became a real weepy type. Crying was for babies and, as she was forever telling Barney, she was no longer a baby, or even a child. Barney! There she was again Always returning to the same subject. Never in her whole life had Barney so persistently occupied her thoughts, asleep or awake. He was probably quite happy to stay where he was for the time being too, and make the most of Patsy Gordon's company. Heaven knew she was ob167 liging enough, and Edward would no doubt allow her to go her own way and merely sit by without saying a word in case he lost her altogether. The picture of that stealthy figure in the flimsy robe, sneaking back across the yard at the hotel, swam before her eyes again, and more tears blurred her vision until she could scarcely see where she was going. Last night she had looked for new arrivals, but none of the ones who came were familiar, and she sought in vain for Barney's dark head and broad grin. Even after she had gone to bed, she listened for voices in the passage outside her door, but none of them was Barney's deep, familiar one, and there was no knock on her door. She had shared her dinner table with an elderly woman who, while she was friendly enough, made no attempt to force her company when it was obvious that Samantha preferred to be alone. She had spoken briefly at breakfast too, and Samantha thought she seemed quite pleasant, and perhaps a little lonely. There was an indefinable air of sadness about her somehow that at any other time would have intrigued Samantha. Perhaps, she thought as she walked, it would be a good idea to talk to someone. Not personal matters, but just general topics. There was always the weather and, up here, the scenery to comment on, and it would take her mind off Barney. For by now she realised she was becoming obsessed with the subject. She glanced round hastily when she heard other 168 footsteps coming through the wood. The sharp snap and crackle of twigs and the soft swish of leaves betraying another walker. She smiled almost instinctively when she saw that it was the woman who shared her table, and her smile was taken for en-couragement, the woman coming over to join her at the water's edge. 'It's rather beautiful, isn't it?' she ventured, and Samantha nodded agreement. 'Lovely,' she agreed, 'I've been coming here for over thirty years,' her companion confided with a smile, 'and I've never grown tired of it. It's always so different, and yet so unchanging.' She laughed apologetically. 'That sounds quite contradictory,' she said, 'but I'm sure you know what I mean.' 'I do indeed,' Samantha agreed. 'You feel as if no matter how much the people who come here change, this place is always the way it started out and probably always will be long after we're gone.' The woman smiled gently. 'That's a very profound observation, my dear,' she told her, 'and very true. Do you know I came here first nearly thirty-six years ago, and I spent my honeymoon here, thirtyfive years ago. I've been back every year since.' Samantha's eyes nearly brimmed with tears again at the idea of such a sentimental pilgrimage. 'How lovely,' she said, and wondered how many years she had been coming here alone. 'Did does ' She found it difficult to ask the question without sounding as if she was prying. Presumably the woman was a widow, or she would surely not have made such a 169 journey alone, but she could hardly ask as much. . The woman, however, smiled understandingly. 'We had thirty-three happy years together,' she said softly, 'Charles and I, and we came here every year on our anniversary. Then when my husband died, two years ago, I felt that it meant too much to me not to come.' She smiled, begging not to be ridiculed for her sentimentality. 'I suppose that sounds much too maudlin to anyone as young as you, my' dear, doesn't it?' Samantha shook her head. 'I think it's beautiful,' she said huskily. 'Quite beautiful.' For several minutes they walked silently through the trees beside the deep, placid water, and once or twice during that time the older woman glanced at her curiously. 'You're here alone too?' she asked then, and Samantha nodded, feeling tearful again suddenly. 'Yes.' A thin gentle hand reached out and covered hers briefly and understandingly. 'I'm sorry, my dear, I shouldn't pry, but ' She shrugged elegant shoulders. 'You're so young and much too pretty to be travelling alone I admit I was curious.' 'I don't mind, honestly,' Samantha assured her hastily. The older woman smiled. 'My name's Esther Collins,' she said then. 'We've never really introduced ourselves, have we?' 'Samantha Dawlish.' She smiled and, turning to acknowledge the introduction, saw the look of surprise on Esther Collins' face. 170 'But, my dear,' the older woman exclaimed, 'this is too much of a coincidence!' Samantha looked puzzled. 'Do you by any chance live in Little Dipstock, in Surrey?' Samantha nodded. 'Yes, as a matter of tact I do, but how on earth ' 'We've met once before,' Esther Collins told her. 'Although I don't suppose for one minute that you remember it. You were no more than nine or ten at the time.' 'Really?' Samantha studied her for a second or two, but could find nothing familiar about her. The thin, rather gaunt face would probably have been more full ten or eleven years ago, of course, and the almost completely grey hair would have been mostly the same dark brown that still showed among the lighter colour. 'I I'm afraid I don't remember,' she confessed. 'I'm sorry.' 'Why should you be? You were only a child then. A very pretty little girl, I remember, and with such charming manners.' Samantha smiled. 'I'm very glad to hear that,' she said. 'Did you know my uncle, Mrs. Collins?' 'Not personally,' she was told. 'But my brother knew him and so did Charles, my husband, in the way of business, you understand. My brother's retired now, of course, he's much older than your uncle, but I'm sure he would remember you if I reminded him. Let me see now.' She laughed. 'The family tease me about my memory, you know. I seldom forget anyone once I've met them. Your. 171 uncle was Norman no, Nicholas Dawlish, am I right?' Samantha nodded. 'That's right. Uncle Nicholas has-been my guardian since I was three years old.' 'I remember, but you weren't with him that day, if I recall. It was at my brother's home in Weybridge, and you were with Robert Foster and his son.' 'Barney,'Samantha supplied, her heart thudding heavily at the inevitability of it. It seemed she was not to be allowed to forget Barney, no matter how she tried. 'That's right. I can rememberwe met him again once or twice, the last time was in town only a few years ago. Not long before Charles died.' Samantha faced the prospect grimly. 'He told us then that ' The faded brown eyes glanced down hastily at Samantha's bare left hand and she guessed. Samantha could tell that she guessed. We were engaged,' she said dully. That's right,' Esther Collins said. 'He told us.' She was curious to know what had happened, that was inevitable, and natural, Samantha was the first to admit, but she would be much too sensitive to ask. 'It's it's all rather a muddle at the moment,' Samantha said, turning an imaginary ring round and round on her middle finger. 'We we're not really engaged any longer.' I see.' To her surprise Mrs. Collins was smiling. Only a faint, slightly ironic smile, it was true, but it was unexpected enough to make Samantha stare at her for a moment and then bite on her lip as those 172 all too ready tears threatened again. 'I'm sorry, my dear.' A gentle hand consoled her. 'But well, again coincidence crops up, and I can't help smiling about it.',. 'Coincidence?' 'Am I right in assuming that you and young Mr. Foster have disagreed?' 'Yes, we have.' 'Well, you see I quarrelled with Charles when we were engaged, and I came up here to hide, I suppose is the nearest word to the truth.' 'I see. We're always quarrelling these days, 'Samantha told her, finding some relief in telling someone who wasn't closely involved. 'We used not to.' 'It's a good sign in a way,' she was told. 'You've know
n each other for a long time, of course?' 'Too long, I think,' Samantha said. 'I've known him ever since I was three and he was eleven.' 'Like Charles and me,' Mrs. Collins smiled, and Samantha stared at her. 'We moved into the house next to the Collins' when Charles and I were both nine years old, and we more or less grew up to-gether.' Samantha watched the thin, placid face of the older woman. Here surely was someone who would know exactly how she felt, having been in exactly the same position herself. 'Did did you quarrel?' she asked, and Esther Collins smiled ruefully. . 'Like cat and dog for a while,' she confessed, 'much to everyone's dismay. You see, we'd always got on so well together when we were smaller and then, as soon as we got old enough to be aware of i73 each other as something more than brother and sister, we started quarrelling. Such fights you never saw and, as I say, I got so infuriated with him once that I ran away and came and hid myself up here for a while, while poor Charles did his best to find me.' She looked at Samantha with eyes that were both gentle and full of understanding. 'Is that what you're doing, my dear? Running away?' Samantha nodded. 'Only well, I was much worse,' she said. 'And I don't ' She swallowed hard. 'You were happy, Mrs. Collins? Even though you'd known him all that time before, you rsally were happy?' 'Very, very happy, Samantha.' The thin hands patted hers gently and she suggested they sat down for a while on one of the wooden seats thoughtfully provided by the National Trust. It was isolated and very private among the shady trees and invited confidences. 'You see,' Esther Collins went on, 'by the time we were married we knew each other so much better than most couples do when they marry. There were no unexpected sides to our characters, no secret vices or virtues to cope with. We'd crossed all those bridges before we married. It was such an advantage for us.' 'I suppose it is,' Samantha allowed, still uncertainly. 'But well. Barney's different. You see he he likes women. Not,' she added hastily, 'that he's promiscuous, please don't think that, but ' Her companion laughed softly, shaking her head. 'From what I remember of him,' she said, 'he's a very attractive young man, and I expect he attracts 174 rather more than his share of the opposite sex, as you do too, my dear. Oh, it's nothing to be ashamed of, but it can be a very hard fact to accept when yoa're young and in love.' 'I I just wish I knew what to do,' Samantha confessed miserably. 'Would it help to tell me about it?' I I think it might.' She was surprised to find how easy it was, once she had started, to relate every aspect of her runaway journey to a sympathetic listener, without feeling bitter as she had done earlier. When she finished Esther Collins said nothing for a moment, then she sighed and shook her head. You have led that poor young man a chase, haven't you?' she said, then smiled reassuringly. 'But he'll find you, my dear, don't worry. He'll find you somehow, if he loves you.' Those wretched tears hovered again and she sounded husky when she spoke. 'But I'm not sure he does,' she said. 'I wish I knew.' It was a relief to have someone to talk to again, and Mrs. Collins was kindly without being overbearing, which suited Samantha well. She had not realised, until now, how she had missed a woman's touch during her formative years, and this pleasant, unassuming woman seemed prepared to take an interest in her, even though they had met only once before, and that many years ago. They chattered quite a lot about past visits to Bowness which Mrs. Collins had made with her husband, and about the meals they were enjoying so much. On the whole it was a pleasantly relaxing 175 day. Just the kind of day that Samantha had declared herself in need of when she came here. The only drawback was that she found herself constantly on the lookout for Barney and, when he had not arrived by dinner time that evening, she was faced with the probability that he was not coming after all. Across the dinner table, Mrs. Collins looked at her thoughtfully as she stirred sugar into her coffee. 'Is there any sign of your young man yet?' she asked, and Samantha shook her head. Not that I really expected him to come,' she claimed. 'He told me if I ran off again he'd break my neck, but I think he may have got the message at last.' 'The message?' Samantha nodded. 'That I want to be oh my own. I don't want to see him.' 'Oh, I see.' The older woman's rather sad brown eyes studied her for a few moments. 'You have rather gone out of your way to convey as much, haven't you?' she said. 'I've tried to,' Samantha admitted, and lifted her chin, a suspicious brightness in her eyes. 'I hope he goes home and leaves me in peace.' 'And what will you do, my dear?' Samantha looked a little startled for a moment. 'Me?' Mrs. Collins nodded slowly. 'Will you go home too?' It was what she wanted most at the moment, she admitted, but it would not be easy. Especially if 176 Barney went ahead of her and thus confirmed that it was all over between them. It would be horribly difficult facing them all too Uncle Nicholas, Uncle Robert and Barney himself. Nothing would ever be the same again with any of them. I suppose I will,' she said, a heavy, uneasy weight sitting in her heart when she thought about it. 'Yes, of course I will.' She sat in the residents' lounge, looking at television, and yet not really seeing anything at all, and she was just thinking of going to bed when some new arrivals came in. She stood in the doorway facing them for several seconds, as still as if she had been turned to stone, one hand clasped tightly on the door handle, and it was Barney who broke the silence. The lights in the corridor were quite dim and his face looked dark and craggy with its dark eyes glowing like coals as he watched her, unsmiling. 'Hello, Sam,' he said then, and she swallowed hard on the lump that rose in her throat at the familiar sight of him. 'Hello.' It was all she could manage at the moment, and she was only too well aware of who his companions were, standing just slightly behind him. Patsy Gordon looked tired and rather sulky, while Edward wore a frown that only eased a little when he spoke to her. 'Hello, Samantha,' he said. Edward.' She nodded a greeting, not bothering to include the girl, and moved to one side. 'Sorry,' she said, 'I'm blocking the doorway.' There was a tense, uneasy silence for a while, 177 '-" then Patsy Gordon pushed her way past and went into the lounge without a word to anyone. Edward excused himself briefly and followed her, leaving Samantha and Barney alone in the dimly lit corridor. 'Perhaps you'll excuse me too,' he said then, and walked past her into the room, with Samantha staring after him with wide, unbelieving eyes. 'Barney!' He turned in the doorway, one brow raised in query and not a trace of a smile anywhere, not even in his eyes. He was giving her no encouragement whatever and she felt she was face to face with a stranger. 'I'm I'm glad you're here,' she told him huskily, and he held her gaze with disconcerting steadiness. 'I'm just passing through,' he informed her quietly, and rather formally. 'On my way home.' 'Oh, Barney, I ' 'Were you just going to bed?' he asked politely. 'If so don't let me keep you.' 'I__' 'Goodnight, Sam.' He turned and walked into the big, softly lit room and closed the door behind him. For several seconds she stood there, her hands clenched tightly together in front of her, her head spinning with the suddenness of it, then she felt the warmth of the tears that rolled down her cheeks, and bit in desperation on her lower lip as she turned and hurried along to her room. At last Barney had taken her at her word and given up trying to make her change her mind, and the shock of it hit her like a physical blow. 178 She undressed and climbed into bed, burying her face in the pillow to smother her sobs, and almost unconsciously listening for a knock on her bedroom doorf'but none came. Later she heard the sound of whispering voices and lay there wakeful and tense, waiting, until they died away and the landing outside was still and silent. She had not expected to sleep, but somehow she had, and when she woke next morning the sun was slashing bright fingers of gold down the opposite wall. There were sounds of activity too from the kitchens of the hotel at the back, and the cheerful sounds of early morning backchat, so that for a moment she smiled, forgetting about last night. She dressed in a pale green dress that she knew was Barney's favourite, unconscious of deliberately setting out to please him, and she swept her hair up into the more sophisticated style he liked so much and from which soft tendrils escaped to tickle her neck. The overall effect was beautiful and somehow fragile-looking, and Mrs. Collins smiled benignly when she joined her for breakfast. 'So your young man came for you, as I said he would,' Mrs.
Collins said. Samantha shook her head. 'Not quite as you said he would,' she denied. 'He's he's just on his way home, that's all, and he's not alone.' 'The young couple who came in with him last night?' she asked, and Samantha nodded. 'That was the couple we were with in Scotland,' she told her. 'The ones I told you about.' 'They left early,' Mrs. Collins said quietly, casting i79 a swift speculative look at her surprised face. i i They they've left?' ; 'They had a very early breakfast and set off in walking gear. I saw them go from my window.' 'I see.' She looked up suddenly, wide-eyed and begging to be wrong. 'Barney?' Mrs. Collins shook her head and smiled reassur- , ingly. 'He's still here, my dear, and he hasn't come down to breakfast yet.' 'Oh.' . Mrs. Collins spread marmalade on her toast with infinite care. 'Will you be going home with him, my dear?' she asked. It was a question Samantha herself would have liked to have known the answer to, but she shook her head slowly. "I I may not have the opportunity,' she said. 'I I'm afraid things have changed, Mrs. Collins.' 'Changed?' Polite brows questioned her meaning. 'Surely not to any great extent, my dear. Young Mr. Foster is here and he's on his way home, you said. Naturally he expects to take you with him.' T don't think so.' It was a difficult, even heartbreaking fact to have to face, but it was obvious to her after last night that Barney no longer cared where she went or what she did. She would have said more, but Barney came in at that moment and, after a brief, polite nod by way of greeting, sat himself down and gave his attention to the breakfast menu. Mrs. Collins, following her gaze, looked at him for a moment thoughtfully, then turned and smiled at Samantha. 180 'I shouldn't take it too seriously,' she advised gently. 'It will all be all right, you'll see.' 'No!' Samantha shook her head, ready to cry again. 'I know him, Mrs. Collins. He's he's stubborn and unyielding. If he's made up his mind he's finished with me he will.' A gentle smile questioned her reaction to the idea. 'Isn't that what you told him you wanted?' she asked quietly, and Samantha nodded, dumbly miserable. 'Then you can't blame him for taking you at your word, can you?' I Oh, I don't know what to do! I wish I'd never come here. I wish I'd gone straight home to Uncle Nicholas ' 'You're feeling very upset at the moment, naturally enough,' Mrs. Collins consoled her, 'and you've eaten nothing at all. Why don't you have something to eat and then take a nice quiet stroll along by the lake, through the trees?' 'I I don't want anything to eat,' Samantha told her, but she shook her head, smiling wryly. 'Starving for love is rather old-fashioned, my dear, and really quite silly.' For love! Samantha looked across at Barney's dark, apparently unconcerned features, and bit her lip anxiously. It was too late now to discover that she was in love with him after all. Mrs. Collins had said she had letters to write and could not come with her for a walk, but Samantha was not really sorry to be alone. Realising how she felt about Barney was something of a shock, al181 though she supposed she should have seen the warn- ing signs long before now, and recognised them. Now it was too late. She walked slowly, kicking at the leaves that carpeted the spicy loam underfoot, feeling the air still slightly chill in here where the sun had not yet penetrated the leaves. The water looked as if it was alive, with a brisk breeze rippling it into a thousand ; tiny mirrors that flashed and blinked in the sun. In a setting as beautiful as this, no one had any right to be unhappy. She sat down on one of the wooden benches, hexrestless fingers plucking the leaves from a fallen twig, her gaze distant as she sought a solution to her problem. How long she sat there she had no idea, but she became aware suddenly of another figure, J some thirty or forty yards away, leaning against j one of the trees and idly hurling pebbles into the j water. 4 For a breathless moment she stared at him, her j heart beating a wild and dizzying tattoo against j her ribs, then she got to her feet and started towards him. To her dismay, when she was only feet away, he straightened up and started to walk away from j her, without even a glance. , 'Barney!' He turned, but only slowly, and dark eyes watched her breathless approach with no sign of welcome in j their depths. He waited for her to come right up to .J him and still he did not speak, while Samantha j stood, trembling and uncertain, the soft tendrils of J her hair blowing against her neck until she flicked J 182 J at them with a hand. Hello,' she said, and felt the stiffness of last night's tears on her eyelids as she looked up at him. 'Hello, Sam.' He was not going to help her, that was obvious, and her heart sank. 'I Mrs. Collins says Patsy and Edward went ott early.' He nodded. 'That's right.' 'They're they're walking the rest of the way? 'Yes.'She felt the instinctive tightening of .her hands, and the first flick of annoyance at his deliberate ! awkwardness. 'I can't see Patsy taking very kindly : to that,'she ventured.i 'She doesn't, but she'll do it rather than lose Eddie.' , . ,i There was more than a hint there, she felt sure, and she glanced at him hastily, meeting the dark fathomless gaze uneasily. 'Barney ' She looked down again at her tight, twisting fingers. You you know why I left?' , -'You left,' Barney said flatly. 'That was enough for me.' . .'But you must know why ' she cried despairingly, and he flickered a dark brow upwards. ; 'Must I? I know you got Eddie Warren to help , you sneak off without saying a word to me, and I know Patsy caught you in his room at one o'clock , that morning. I presume that was why you left.' Samantha stared at him, panic and indignation fighting for precedence. 'She she told you that?' ; He merely looked at her, defying her to deny it. 'And you believed her? Yes, you would,' she added bitterly. 'You'd judge me by your own actions.' Something beside passive disinterest showed at .last, and he looked as if she had struck some forgotten chord. 'What does that imply?' he asked. Tears stood brightly in her eyes and she clenched her hands even more tightly. 'I saw her,' she said. He said nothing for a moment, then he reached out and almost touched her cheek, drawing back at the last minute. 'You saw her? Leaving the cottage?' She nodded, too choked with misery at the memory of it to speak. 'And that's why you left?' Again she nodded, the tears standing like raindrops on her lashes. 'Then then at breakfast, you'd you'd had the tables put together, just the way she wanted you to,' she told him, her voice husky and terribly shaky. 'It was the last straw.' Only I didn't.' She scarcely heard him, she was so carried away with the memory of her own misery. 'It was Eddie,' he explained. 'He asked to have them moved, I didn't.' I didn't know.' It seemed to matter much less now than it had then. Then it had seemed important, it was just one more item in a trail of disasters. 'She knew I'd seen her coming from from your cottage, and she knew I wouldn't hurt Edward by telling him. She she used it like a a red rag, and I just couldn't take any more.' 'Jealous?' he suggested softly and she looked up to deny it hotly, but instead merely lowered her eyes again hastily, having told him what he wanted to know. In the brief glimpse of him, however, she 184 thought there was a hint of the old, familiar smile in his eyes. 'Were you in his room?' he asked, and she nodded. 'Why? Or shouldn't I ask?' 'Of course you can ask,' she retorted in a flash of spirit. 'I thought it was her room. I heard her come back and I was going to well, I wanted to. speak to her, and I could only see a light under the door of number three, so I went in.' 'And found yourself in Eddie's room!' He was laughing, she thought, and looked at him indignantly. 'It's not funny. Barney. I was I was so embarrassed I could have died, and then she came in and made it ten times worse.' 'I know how you feel,' he told her, and he really was smiling now. 'You do? How can you? I saw Patsy Gordon coming from your place and she was sneaking across the yard like a burglar. Besides, she admitted she'd been there, she was even proud of it.' 'She saw you in Eddie's room,' he pointed out softly, 'but you weren't were you?' 'Of course not ' 'But you're not ready to give me the same benefit of the doubt?' She looked up, eyes wide and shiny with tears. 'Oh, Barney, I want to. I don't want to believe she'd been with you. I was so miserable I couldn't sleep.' He reached out a hand again, and this time it rested gently against her cheek, so that she turned her face and brushed her lips against the strong fingers. 'She came and knocked me up,' he told her quietly, a glow in his dark eyes that tingled right 185 down to the soles of her feet. 'And when I saw who it was, I sent her packing.' His fingers caressed her cheek and he smiled wryly. '
For one delirious moment,' he added softly, 'I thought it might have been you.' Samantha raised wide eyes to him and held his gaze, a warm, throbbing sensation running through her whole body. 'Would you have sent me packing too?' she asked, a little breathlessly, and he laughed. 'Of course! I'm the very soul of decorum, I thought you realised that by now.' 'Oh, Barney!' 'Oh, Sam!' He moved closer, much closer, until he held her in his arms, and his lips brushed gently over her forehead, and her eyes, then on to her mouth where they stayed, seeking more urgent response as he kissed her with a fierceness that left her breathless. 'Someone might see us,' she whispered, her head buried against his chest and not really caring who saw them. Well, if it's your Mrs. Collins, she can rest on her laurels,' he said, and laughed when she raised her head to frown at him curiously. 'What do you mean?' 'Just that she seems to have taken your welfare as her life's work,' he told her. 'I gather that you've been talking to her, telling her all about our jauntings. She knew that Nicholas always passed on the news to me, where you were to be found.' 'I did tell her,' Samantha agreed. 'I I wanted someone to talk to about it, and she was very kind 186 and and understanding. She knew us, too,' she added. 'She remembered me from a long time ago.' 'I know. It was she who rang Nicholas and told him .where you were this time, knowing he'd pass the information on to me. She could claim an old acquaintance, you see, and Nicholas was only too pleased to be put in the picture. Then just now, after you were safely out of the way, she came over to me and chatted me up about old times, carefully letting drop the information that you were to be found strolling among the trees out here.' 'Oh.' She looked up at him, a warm, soft glow in her blue eyes. 'And you weren't going to speak to me at first, were you?' she accused, and he laughed. 'No, I wasn't. I thought it was time I did a little running away for a change, and give you the cold shoulder see how you liked it.' Samantha pouted reproach, one finger touching lightly on his mouth. 'I didn't like it,' she admitted. 'Now you know how I felt.' I'm I'm sorry, honestly. Barney.' He laughed softly and kissed the tip of her nose. 'I know you are,' he said. She was most reluctant to move, quite content to stay in his arms for as long as he liked, raising her eyes to look at him again. 'Barney, do you still want to marry me?' Unless you'd rather live in sin,' he suggested blandly. 'I don't mind either way, my darling.' 'Well, I do,' Samantha said firmly. 'O.K.' He kissed her again, one hand at the back of her head, and completely disarranging her care187 fully arranged hair. 'There's still plenty of time to get back by the twelfth,' he said at last. 'I knew we'd make it eventually, so you might just as well have stayed home.' She smiled, shaking her head. 'If I had,' she told him with a husky laugh, 'I wouldn't have met Bill or Peter or Edward, and I'd never have known , whether I really like you best. Besides,' she added, her eyes dancing, 'I don't see why I shouldn't have l a few scalps on my belt as well.' 'You gave me quite a few bad moments while you were collecting them too,' he accused. 'I shall i have to keep an eye on you in future, in case you (get this wanderlust again.' i T shan't.' [ 'I hope not, but I'll make sure I don't do anytthing to give you the excuse, just the same.' i 'Stop taking me for granted, for instance?'! He kissed her soundly for a long, long time, then held her tight against his chest, his voice muffled by her hair. 'Never again,' he vowed. 'Never again, my love.' i88