White Rose of Winter

by Anne Mather

  Julie frowned. ‘And Pamela?’

  ‘What about Pamela?’ He sounded indifferent.

  ‘Well, Sandra was having dinner with Pamela and her mother. Didn’t you see her when she brought Sandra home?’

  ‘No.’ Robert was uncompromising.

  Julie made a helpless gesture. ‘But won’t she think that’s odd? I mean – your being here?’

  Robert shrugged, opening his eyes again. ‘Probably. But she knows better than to object.’

  Julie sighed. ‘And what did Sandra say when she saw you?’

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Oh, you’re being deliberately obtuse!’ Julie would have turned away, but he reached out and slid his fingers between hers and she halted reluctantly.

  ‘No, I’m not,’ he murmured huskily. ‘I just don’t want to talk about Pamela right now.’

  Julie looked down at him uncertainly. ‘Where did you tell Sandra I was?’

  ‘I didn’t. Mrs. Hudson explained that you had gone out for a while, and I think she was so astounded at seeing me, she couldn’t think of anything to say.’

  ‘I can believe that!’ said Julie, with feeling.

  He played with her fingers absently, his thumb massaging her palm. ‘Do you want me to go?’ His thick lashes successfully concealed the expression in his eyes.

  Julie took a deep breath. ‘You can’t drive anywhere in that state!’ she said firmly. ‘You’ll have to sleep here tonight.’

  ‘Where? In your bed?’ His fingers tightened on hers.

  ‘Yes. My bed,’ agreed Julie shortly, and pulled herself away from him. ‘Can you make it upstairs?’

  Robert regarded her in a strange way. ‘I’m not an invalid, you know.’

  ‘I know that.’ Julie walked towards the door and looked back as he slid his legs to the ground and got to his feet. He flexed his back muscles tiredly and then she went out of the room and up the stairs without looking back.

  In her room, she turned down the clean sheets which Mrs. Hudson had put there that morning, and removed her nightdress from under the pillow just as Robert appeared in the doorway. Despite his boast he looked pale and exhausted, and leaned negligently against the door jamb.

  ‘You know where the bathroom is,’ said Julie, moving away from the bed. ‘Is there anything else you need?’

  ‘Only you,’ he muttered huskily. ‘Come here.’

  ‘Not now.’ Julie evaded his reaching hands and made for the door. ‘Get into bed.’

  He began to unbutton his shirt with a complete lack of modesty and Julie went hastily out of the room, closing the door behind her. Then she heaved a deep breath and walked a little way along the landing to Emma’s room.

  The child was sleeping soundly, and Julie let herself into the room silently and quickly took off her clothes, slipping the nightdress over her head. Then she slid into the big bed beside Emma, moving her daughter over a little and allowing her to nestle closer to her.

  ‘Mummy?’ murmured Emma sleepily, her small hands questing over Julie’s face.

  Julie drew them down and squeezed them. ‘Yes, Mummy,’ she reassured her quietly. ‘Go to sleep!’

  Julie slept late the next morning, and so did Emma. She was not accustomed to sleeping with anybody and consequently the warmth that Julie generated enveloped her in a cosy glow and she slept on and on.

  Julie eventually awoke as her daughter was stirring, and smiled sleepily at her astonished little face.

  ‘Why are you sleeping with me?’ she demanded, in surprise.

  Julie stretched. ‘Do you mind?’

  ‘No. But why?’

  Julie slid out of bed, glancing in amazement at her watch. It was after ten o’clock. ‘Because I let someone else sleep in my bed,’ she said.

  ‘Who?’ Emma looked excited.

  ‘Uncle Robert,’ replied Julie, yawning, and walking into the bathroom. When she returned a few minutes later, Emma was gone.

  Sighing, Julie pulled on her dressing-gown. She had no illusions as to where Emma might be. She only hoped she would be in time to stop her from waking Robert up if he was still asleep.

  However, when she reached her room, the door was pulled closed and when she looked inside she found Emma nowhere to be seen. Only Robert was stretched out in the bed, the bedcovers pushed down to his waist, his chest bare, sound asleep.

  Julie’s lips tilted slightly. There was a painful kind of ecstasy just seeing him there, in her bed, so relaxed and at peace. She was tempted to linger, but remembering what had happened last night she went out again and closed the door silently.

  Downstairs, Emma was in the kitchen with Mrs. Hudson, who was grumbling away to herself as she prepared a tray. Julie frowned. ‘What’s going on?’

  Mrs. Hudson looked at her resignedly. ‘Your Miss Lawson appeared in here half an hour ago demanding to know why breakfast hadn’t been prepared. I explained that you didn’t normally get up particularly early, and that as you’d been out last night …’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, the upshot of it was that she said she always ate a good breakfast, and would I supply her with a tray of cereal, bacon, eggs, toast and coffee!’

  Julie endeavoured to smooth her tangled hair. She had not had time to comb it yet. ‘I see.’ She glanced at her daughter. ‘Did you go into Uncle Robert’s room?’

  Emma looked downcast for a moment. ‘Yes. But he was asleep, so I crept out again. Did I wake him up?’

  ‘Fortunately not,’ said Julie reprovingly, and then realized that Mrs. Hudson was staring at her in astonishment.

  ‘Did Mr. Robert sleep here last night?’

  Julie coloured. ‘I’m afraid so. He was exhausted. He was asleep when I got home.’

  Mrs. Hudson nodded ‘Yes, I know. He apparently arrived back from New York only about seven-thirty last evening, and then after visiting his apartment he drove on down here’.

  ‘Yes.’ Julie tightened the cord of her pale blue housecoat. ‘I expect you were surprised to see him.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. Not that I minded. It was company, like. And then after Miss Lawson went to bed he said he’d wait up for you.’ She searched Julie’s face. ‘You – you didn’t mind me going to bed?’

  ‘Heavens, no!’ Julie smiled and Mrs. Hudson looked relieved.

  ‘There,’ she said, adding a plate of ham and eggs and tomato to the already loaded tray. ‘I’ll just take this up to her.’

  Julie frowned. ‘You mean she’s gone back to bed?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know about that, ma’am, but she said she’d be in her room.’

  ‘I see.’ Julie bit her lip. ‘Well, give it to me. I’ve got to go up to get dressed. I’ll take it to her.’ She looked down at Emma. ‘You can have your cereal in here, can’t you?’

  Emma nodded and Julie took the tray firmly from the housekeeper and opening the door made her way back upstairs.

  As she had suspected, Sandra Lawson was dressed and seated by her dressing-table apparently writing letters. She looked up in surprise when Julie made her entrance.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, making room on the side table for the tray. ‘But Mrs. Hudson could have brought it up.’

  ‘It’s not part of Mrs. Hudson’s duties to be chambermaid,’ replied Julie shortly. ‘And I was coming upstairs anyway.’

  ‘Well, thank you, Mrs. Pemberton.’ Sandra’s smile was frozen.

  Julie moved towards the door, aware of the other girl’s appraising stare. She was obviously comparing Julie’s tumbled loveliness with her own ordered appearance.

  ‘By the way,’ she said, as Julie was going out of the door, ‘did you know that Mr. Pemberton was coming here last night?’

  ‘Robert?’ Julie thrust her hands into the pockets of her housecoat. ‘No, I didn’t know.’

  Sandra frowned. ‘I didn’t hear his car leave. Was he still here when you got home?’

  ‘Yes.’ Julie took hold of the door handle. ‘Actually, he didn’t leave. He slept here!’ And let her make what she likes of that, she th
ought childishly, closing the door with a definite click behind her.

  Sandra had gone for a walk round the village and Emma was playing in the frost-frozen garden when Robert eventually appeared. Julie was in the kitchen, helping Mrs. Hudson prepare the vegetables for lunch when he opened the door. It was almost twelve, and he had obviously slept well, for his face had lost that haggard appearance it had had the night before. But what Julie was not prepared for was the hostile gleam in his eyes as he looked at her. Then he switched his attention to the housekeeper. ‘Is it too late to beg a cup of coffee?’

  Mrs. Hudson wiped her hands dry. ‘Of course not. My, you look more – rested this morning.’

  ‘Yes, I feel it.’ Robert had to look at Julie then. ‘Good morning Julie.’

  ‘Good morning.’ Julie’s lips were tight.

  He nodded again at Mrs. Hudson and disappeared. Julie found she was breathing rather quickly.

  ‘Are you going to take it through to him, or shall I?’ Mrs. Hudson had prepared a small tray with cups, coffee pot, sugar and cream. There were some scones, too, hot from the oven, oozing with butter and jam.

  Julie pressed her lips together, looking down at her apron-covered denim slacks and flour-smudged blue jersey. ‘I look such a sight,’ she began, when Mrs. Hudson thrust the tray into her hands.

  ‘Go along with you. You know you want to.’

  Robert was in the lounge. He was standing by the window. In his formal grey town suit, with only the growth of a night’s beard on his chin to indicate that he had not been home, he looked wholly unapproachable. He turned when he heard her entrance, and said: ‘Thank you. I’ll get away as soon as I’ve had this.’

  Julie put down the tray. ‘Would you like me to pour for you?’

  He shrugged. ‘If you like.’

  Julie seated herself on the edge of the couch and tackled the cups. When his was poured she handed him the cup and offered the sugar basin. Robert helped himself to sugar and then raised the cup to his lips.

  ‘I suppose I should apologize for the inconvenience,’ he said bleakly.

  ‘What inconvenience?’ Julie rose to her feet again. She couldn’t bear to feel at more of a disadvantage than she already was. ‘You know I asked you to stay.’ She looked up at him. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  He bit off an expletive. ‘You know I did.’

  Julie bent her head. ‘Good.’

  ‘Where did you sleep?’

  ‘With Emma.’

  ‘I see.’ He finished his coffee and thrust down the cup. ‘I must go. I apologize again for putting you out.’

  ‘But you didn’t!’ exclaimed Julie unhappily.

  At that moment Emma came running into the room. ‘Uncle Robert! Uncle Robert!’ she cried, and flung herself into his arms. Then she frowned. ‘You’re not leaving!’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘But why? Mummy, why? Does he have to go?’

  ‘I think so, darling.’ Julie’s throat was constricted.

  Robert hugged the little girl. ‘I’ll come and see you again soon.’

  Emma’s mouth drooped. ‘Oh, Uncle Robert, please! I came to your bedroom this morning, but Mummy wouldn’t let me wake you. And now you’re going!’

  Robert frowned. ‘I’m sure now that Miss Lawson’s here—’

  ‘Bother Miss Lawson. I don’t like her!’

  Emma pursed her lips and as she did so Julie became aware that Sandra was standing silently in the doorway watching them. Robert noticed her, too, and managed a polite: ‘Good morning, Miss Lawson.’

  Sandra Lawson’s lips thinned. She must have heard what Emma had said, but she was going to ignore it, at least for the time being. ‘Good morning, Mr. Pemberton. I’ve been for a walk round the village. Getting my bearings, as it were. It’s cold, but quite exhilarating!’

  ‘I’m sure it must be.’ Robert smiled faintly.

  Sandra smiled, too, and then turned her attention to Emma. ‘And what have you been doing?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Emma was mutinous. Julie had never seen her this way before. The child was looking desperately up at Robert and there were tears sparkling on her long lashes. ‘Please, Uncle Robert, don’t go!’

  Robert hesitated, glancing awkwardly at Julie. She made a helpless gesture. ‘Stay if you’d like to.’

  ‘Yes, do stay,’ said Sandra unexpectedly. ‘Actually, I thought you would, so I telephoned Pamela while I was out and asked her to come over.’

  Julie gasped. ‘You did what!’

  ‘Cool it, Julie!’ Robert was unperturbed. ‘You told Pamela I was here?’

  Sandra looked coy. ‘No, not that. I thought it would be a nice surprise for her.’

  Robert wiped a tear from Emma’s cheek and there was a curious smile on his face now. ‘I imagine you thought your actions would cause no little consternation here, Miss Lawson,’ he said, in an almost conversational voice.

  Sandra coloured defensively. ‘Pamela’s my friend. I just did what I thought was best.’

  ‘Best for whom? For Pamela? Or for you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Robert looked at her squarely. ‘What a petty little mind you have, Miss Lawson. Do you really imagine that when Pamela arrives and finds me here it will make the slightest difference to our relationship?’

  ‘Of course—’

  ‘Oh, no, Miss Lawson, it won’t. Pamela is not exactly the sort of person you think she is. She wants to marry me because I’m entirely suitable, both socially and financially. The fact that I might stray now and then from the straight and narrow means little more than a mild annoyance to her. By telephoning her and bringing her here, all you will achieve is her humiliation. Do you think she’ll thank you for that?’

  Sandra uttered an exclamation. ‘How can you stand there and admit such a thing—’

  ‘I’m admitting nothing. I’ve got nothing to confess. Nor has Mrs. Pemberton, I might add.’

  ‘What’s going on, Uncle Robert?’ Emma was getting impatient.

  ‘Nothing, honey,’ he replied, looking down at her gently. ‘You go and take off your outdoor things and in five minutes I’ll give you a game of snakes and ladders.’

  ‘Super!’ Emma scampered excitedly out of the room and Robert turned back to the governess.

  ‘Well?’

  Sandra moved uncomfortably, casting a malevolent glance in Julie’s direction. ‘It’s too late now,’ she said. ‘I’ve made the phone call.’

  Robert’s expression was hard. ‘Pamela is not to know the exact time I arrived. She isn’t expecting me back until this evening. If she comes and finds me here this morning it will be a simple matter to pretend I arrived a short while ago, on my way to see her.’ He rubbed his hand over the growth of beard on his chin. ‘I can use the battery-operated shaver I have in the car. No one would be any the wiser.’

  ‘You’re actually asking me to assist your intrigue!’ cried Sandra in horror.

  ‘Not at all. All you’re being asked to do is save Pamela from embarrassment.’

  ‘But if she doesn’t care where you – where you sleep – what does it matter?’ she demanded triumphantly.

  Robert’s lips twisted. ‘But you rang her, Miss Lawson. You deliberately set wheels in motion to bring her here and find me in residence. Do you think she’ll find it easy to forgive you for that?’

  ‘You – you’re despicable!’ Sandra bent her head, obviously having an inward battle with herself.

  ‘Just practical,’ remarked Robert coldly. ‘Well?’

  Sandra’s face contorted. ‘Very well, I’ll say nothing. But I shan’t forget this.’

  ‘Nor shall I,’ replied Robert heavily, and strode out of the room in search of Emma.

  Julie sank down weakly on to the arm of a chair. She felt weak. It had all been too much for her, and she wished desperately that they would all go away and leave her and Emma alone. Robert’s enmity this morning was destructive, particularly after his momentary tenderness last night.

/>   Sandra was regarding her contemptuously. ‘I suppose this is all for your benefit, isn’t it?’ she demanded.

  Julie looked up wearily. ‘What?’

  ‘This elaborate charade! This pretence of just arriving back from the States! He’s not concerned about Pamela being embarrassed or even that I might lose Pamela’s friendship! All that concerns him is protecting you! Your reputation!’ Her lips curled. ‘I wonder why? Do you suppose he’s afraid you’re going to get your claws into him for a second time, and this time he might not get away scot-free?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  THINGS settled down to something like normal the following week, but then anything would have seemed like normal after the unpleasant tensions of Sunday. Only Emma had seemed unaware of the atmosphere, and perhaps Pamela, for she had accepted Robert’s explanations without question.

  But Julie had found it terribly difficult to behave naturally. Her nerves were stretched unbearably, and although Sandra behaved with admirable restraint, Julie could not relax.

  After lunch, a meal throughout which Pamela had done most of the talking, Sandra suggested they might all go for a walk round the village, but Robert declined, so Pamela had asked Julie whether they might use the lounge for a while.

  Julie had been only too pleased to agree, but later, as she sat with Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen, drinking her coffee, she saw Robert in the garden with Emma and realized the two women were alone.

  Not that Robert seemed concerned. The ground was still diamond hard with frost and he and Emma were sliding down the path with apparently carefree abandon. But then Robert lost his balance and crashed to the ground with a thump.

  Julie jumped to her feet, a hand to her mouth, and Mrs. Hudson looked out knowingly. ‘He’ll be all right,’ she assured her, and as though to prove the point Emma straddled him excitedly, pressing his chest back against the path and sitting on it, while he protested laughingly. ‘You see!’ said Mrs. Hudson. ‘You worry too much.’ She shook her head cheerfully. ‘She needs a father, and no mistake.’

  Julie sighed. ‘I expect she misses Michael.’