by Anne Mather
Nicholas was amused. Last week he had thought she had a very interesting face, but tonight she was quite lovely. He wanted to know more about her. He had taken down the number of her scooter as she was riding away and he had intended finding out more about her. What was she doing with Harvey? Particularly if she was married? He had no scruples about the kind of married women he knew, who invariably were involved with some man or other, but this creature was different. She wasn’t like the usual run of his acquaintances. She had a clear, open countenance; honest, you might say, and beautiful, wide eyes.
‘Be a pal, and get me a drink, Harvey,’ he said blandly, ignoring Harvey’s expression.
Harvey grimaced. ‘Now why did you come over here, old buddy?’ he asked in a mock-aggressive tone.
‘So you could buy me a drink,’ remarked Nicholas complacently. ‘Run along…old buddy.’
Harvey sighed and looked regretfully at Madeline.
‘So be it. We all have our crosses to bear,’ he remarked soulfully, causing Madeline to laugh at his injured manner, as he walked away.
After he had left them, Madeline twisted her glass nervously between her fingers, feeling tongue-tied. She was aware that he was studying her thoughtfully, and then he said:
‘You’re not annoyed that I broke up your conversation with Harvey, are you?’
Madeline looked up and shook her head vigorously.
‘Heavens, no! I only met him about half an hour ago.’
‘I see. I thought perhaps that you were his latest conquest.’
Madeline smiled. ‘Oh, no. Nothing like that.’
‘Good.’ Nicholas looked serious and drew out his cigarette case. ‘Do you smoke?’ After she had taken one he went on: ‘And your husband? Is he here tonight?’
‘No. My husband died nine years ago.’
‘Nine?’ He looked very surprised. ‘Forgive me, but I thought you were newly married.’
‘Oh, please,’ Madeline sighed. ‘I’m thirty-three. Don’t say I look like a teenager, please.’
He smiled. She was refreshingly different. Women of her age usually liked to be thought very young. It was his experience that women never liked to be thought the age they really were. The very young ones liked to be thought older and experienced, and the older ones spent all their time trying to recapture a youth which simply emphasized their actual ages.
‘All right,’ he agreed mildly. ‘But you are a very attractive woman. And I think I ought to apologize for my rather churlish behaviour last week. I was not very polite. I’m sorry. I assure you I am not usually so ungallant. However, had we not met this evening, I should have definitely made an effort to discover your address and make some atonement.’
‘That’s not necessary,’ murmured Madeline, feeling out of her depth.
‘I must disagree. That afternoon I had had a rather disturbing telephone call from my daughter before leaving the factory and I’m afraid I was in quite an angry frame of mind.’
‘That’s all right,’ replied Madeline, her heart sinking unreasonably at the mention of his daughter. She might have known he would be married. ‘Is…is your wife over here with you?’
‘My wife, also, is dead,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘She died when Maria was born, all of fifteen years ago.’
‘I see.’ Madeline bent her head. ‘I have a daughter, too. She’s a year older, sixteen.’
‘Really?’ He looked astounded. ‘Maria is still in Rome. She wants to come over here and join me. Of course, she objects to my long absences abroad and as she lives with my mother she’s rather spoiled and usually gets what she wants.’
‘Do you intend being here long?’ asked Madeline, looking up again.
He made an undecided gesture. ‘Two months; three maybe. I’ve only been here ten days. I can’t tell. If I like it here I may stay on.’
Harvey arrived back just then with a tray of drinks. He was not as tall as Nicholas, although he was a tall man, and they both seemed giants compared to the men Madeline was used to associating with.
They all stood talking together for a while and then presently were joined by Con Masterson and another young couple who were introduced as Paul and Mary-Lee Lucas. Mary-Lee chattered away easily to Madeline, asking her if she had any children and explaining that she herself had four. Madeline envied her her complete lack of self-consciousness.
Madeline herself still felt rather bemused by the whole affair. Con Masterson was now talking seriously to Nicholas Vitale and he was listening intently, now and then drawing on the cigarette between his fingers. Even in profile he was a remarkably handsome man, his eyelashes long and thick and very black. She wasn’t sure whether she felt glad or sorry that their conversation was ended. She had enjoyed talking to him, but it was probably just as well that Harvey had come back. After all, it was obvious that Nicholas Vitale was perfectly at his ease with women and his charming manner was too expert to be assumed. No, he had had plenty of practice, while she was a mere novice when conversing with men.
Adrian came to join them later. Madeline was ashamed to realize that for a while she had forgotten all about him and Mr. Hetherington. He took Madeline’s arm and said:
‘You seem to be enjoying yourself.’
Nicholas, seeing the other man’s rather possessive attitude towards Madeline, said:
‘Tell me, Con, is the schoolmaster you were telling me about here?’
Con nodded. ‘One of them,’ he replied amiably. ‘I’ll introduce you.’
So Adrian found himself speaking to the owner of the factory and the large organization it represented. Madeline could tell from his expression that he was highly delighted and she wondered how large a part Nicholas Vitale’s money played in Adrian’s interest.
‘Tell me,’ said Nicholas, with interest, ‘how old are the pupils who attend your school? Is it a large school?’
‘The pupils range from eleven to eighteen years,’ said Adrian, quite prepared to talk about his favourite subject ‘We have about eight hundred pupils altogether.’
‘I see. My daughter Maria is fifteen. She is apparently not very interested in school at all. We have trouble in even getting her there. It occurs to me that school in England might not be a bad thing. Boarding school, of course.’
‘Of course,’ murmured Adrian, rather disheartened. He had half thought Vitale was going to suggest sending Maria to Otterbury.
‘Do you have any school in mind you could recommend?’ queried Nicholas Vitale, watching Adrian keenly.
Adrian spread wide his hands. ‘I’m afraid I know very little about boarding schools in general. Would you send her to one of the better girls’ schools or would you prefer mixed?’
Nicholas smiled. ‘I think Maria had better have her say in that,’ he remarked. ‘If indeed she agrees to attend school over here, I think the least I can do is to let her choose her own school, don’t you?’
‘Oh, in that case…naturally.’ Adrian compressed his lips. Madeline watching him, hazarded a guess that he considered that kind of attitude utterly wrong. Adrian always advocated that children never knew what was best for them and it was up to the adults to make the decisions.
‘Won’t she miss seeing you, if she’s at school over here and you’re in Italy?’ she asked, unable to deny the question.
Nicholas Vitale’s blue eyes met hers for a moment and she found herself feeling as though she had just run a race and could hardly get her breath. She could not draw her eyes away and it was only when he continued speaking and looked at someone else that she was able to gather her scattered wits. Why, she was as impressionable as a child herself and she forced herself not to look at him again.
But it was terribly difficult, particularly as she was fascinated by everything he said and did!
‘I should imagine I could make time to come over and see her,’ he said, in answer to Madeline’s question. ‘Besides, my mother wants to go to America for several months this year and it will relieve her of the responsibility of
Maria if she is away too.’
Adrian was nodding in agreement and Madeline twisted her fingers together. If Maria came to school in England it was likely that Nicholas Vitale would be often in this country, and what better place to stay than near the factory? She might see him again!
Inwardly she was chiding herself for her lack of sophistication, but outwardly she looked calm. How ridiculous to even consider herself a suitable candidate for his interest. Besides, rich and powerful as he was, it was hardly likely that he would expect any woman to do any other than to fall over themselves to become closer associated with him. Any interest he might show in her could only be of a passing nature and although the prospect now might be appealing, when it was all over she would be the one who was hurt.
Anyway, she was a respectable widow with a daughter of impressionable age. She could imagine Diana’s scandalized expression if she informed her she was considering having an affair with an Italian millionaire! Really, it was laughable, and he had not even asked her for a date! And yet something about the way he looked at her made her feel sure he would!
Hetherington came to join them and to find out what it was all about. He, much more than Adrian, could advise Nicholas Vitale on the choice of schools available to Maria and took the opportunity of getting his opinion voiced.
The conversation droned on, leaving Madeline to her own thoughts. She was unaware that Nicholas Vitale’s gaze often strayed in her direction or that he wished the others would go and leave them to talk. It was years since he had found a woman more than passably interesting. Women usually served their purpose and were forgotten. Conversation with them was limited. Fashion, style, the latest hairdo, current drinking habits; these were the shallow topics he had grown used to. Madeline Scott was not like that, he was sure.
Madeline, listening occasionally to his voice, found it distinctly disturbing. Deep and husky, it gave you the feeling that what he was saying was for your ears alone.
In truth Nicholas was becoming increasingly bored with the whole affair. Admittedly, he wanted to get to know Madeline better, but this circle of would-be confidants surrounding him were beginning to jar and he wanted to be free of them.
Stubbing out his cigarette in a nearby ashtray, he broke up the conversation by saying:
‘Thank you all for your advice. I’ll certainly mention it to Maria when I see her.’
Madeline was shaken out of her lethargy at these words.
‘Are…are you returning to Italy?’ she exclaimed, the words bubbling out uncontrollably.
His eyes were gentle as he looked at her. ‘No. Maria is coming here. My mother is staying on in Rome to clear things up and then she too will join us.’
‘Oh!’ Madeline drew back into her shell.
‘Do you have a house, then?’ asked Hetherington, in surprise.
‘No. I have a suite at the Stag,’ replied Nicholas dryly. This questioning was beginning to sound like the third degree.
The Stag was the largest hotel in Otterbury. Luxurious, opulent, it catered for people like Vitale and had been built at the same time as the factory site became operational. A very shrewd move on the part of the owners, who guessed correctly that there would be people coming to Otterbury who required more than the average in hotels. The locals in Otterbury could not afford its expensive food and drink and consequently no undesirable element was allowed within its portals.
Lucie Masterson came over then and really broke things up, much to Nicholas’s relief. She looked coyly at him and said:
‘Nick darling, you really ought to circulate more. It’s so delightful having you here. We never see you these days…’ this last said rather reproachfully.
Madeline, watching Nicholas Vitale’s reactions, wondered how close Lucie would like to be to her husband’s employer or whether indeed there had once been something between them. There was something about Lucie’s attitude that suggested such a thing, and Madeline felt a trifle nauseated.
Nicholas shrugged his broad shoulders and glanced at his watch.
‘I’m sorry, Lucie,’ he said coolly. ‘I am rather a busy man.’
‘You work far too hard,’ she retorted, in annoyance. ‘You ought to relax more.’
Nicholas looked down at her and Madeline could see his eyes had narrowed.
‘How do you know I don’t?’ he said, rather deliberately, and Lucie stiffened. Madeline looked away; she had seen enough.
Nicholas saw Madeline turn away, her glorious hair glowing in the soft lights. He intended speaking to her again before he left.
‘You’re impossible,’ Lucie exclaimed, in a low, angry voice.
‘Yes, I am, aren’t I?’ he remarked disinterestedly, and then: ‘Excuse me. There’s someone I want to have a word with.’
Nicholas crossed to Madeline’s side. She was standing apart from the others, apparently deep in thought.
‘Will you allow me to take you home?’ he asked softly, his eyes intent, as she swung round to face him.
Madeline looked up, almost startled out of her wits. Her eyes grew enormous and she felt herself blushing again. It really was an annoying feeling, to know you could not control your colour. His thickly lashed eyes seemed to hypnotize her and all the revulsion she had felt about his association with Lucie sped away. She was sure he must be aware of the effect he was having upon her and she shivered involuntarily. Clasping her arms together, she said:
‘I…er…I came with Adrian Sinclair.’
‘I didn’t ask who you came with,’ he remarked, rather dryly. ‘I asked whether I could take you home.’
‘But…but Adrian expects me t…to go with him,’ she stammered, feeling foolish.
‘I see. And that is important to you?’
Was it important? Madeline felt trapped. She could not in all honesty say that Adrian was terribly important to her, other than in a purely friendly capacity, but on the other hand how much more did she owe to him than to this comparative stranger? She was undecided and definitely nervous. She wanted to plunge in and say she would be thrilled if he took her home, but something held her back. It was like being pulled two ways at once with equal intensity. And yet was it equal? If she were truthful with herself she would admit that the idea of going anywhere with Nicholas Vitale was in itself an excitement, and Adrian could never be exciting!
Nicholas was studying her solemnly as she wavered on the brink. Then he said in an amused voice: ‘I’m sure if it takes that much thinking about, the answer must be “no”.’
Madeline struggled to find words to explain her indecision. What must he be thinking of her?
‘You’re probably right,’ she agreed, at last. ‘It’s simply that Adrian and I are old friends and I ought not to hurt his feelings.’
‘What you really mean is that he is interested in you,’ remarked Nicholas shrewdly.
‘I suppose I do,’ she admitted quietly. ‘We’ve known one another for five years now.’
‘And you have been a widow all that time, haven’t you?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘Then I think he is either very stupid or you are very stubborn.’
Madeline smiled. The latter. No one could call Adrian stupid.’
Nicholas shrugged. ‘And so? Where does this get us? Would you like to come with me? If there was no Sinclair to interfere, of course.’
Madeline ran a hand over her hair, rather restlessly. ‘I…I…oh, I suppose so,’ she said, sighing.
Nicholas was satisfied. ‘Good. Then I will speak to Sinclair.’
‘Oh, no, please.’ Madeline stared at him imploringly. ‘You would only give Adrian the wrong impression.’
‘How’s that?’ He drew his slim cigarette case from his pocket and offered it to her. Madeline accepted one of the long cigarettes and then after they were lit she began:
‘Adrian would never understand….’
At that moment Adrian himself chose to join them. ‘Are you ready to leave, Madeline?’ he asked. ‘Hetherington
doesn’t want to be too late as his wife is alone.’
Nicholas studied the other man for a moment, and then said:
‘Do I take it that you are driving Hetherington home?’
Adrian frowned. ‘That’s correct.’
Nicholas turned to Madeline. ‘Then I suggest that as Mrs. Scott is in no hurry to leave at the moment, I will see to it that she arrives home safely, relieving you of that responsibility.’
Adrian was astounded and looked it. He did not want to offend the Italian and alternatively Vitale had really left him no choice but to accept his offer. Only Madeline could alter the situation and he looked questioningly at her.
Madeline herself felt very guilty. This was a new venture for her and she was half afraid of the consequences. Even so, she was unable to say the words Adrian wanted to hear; that she would go with him, now, this minute.
‘Very well,’ said Adrian stiffly, when it became obvious that Madeline intended to stay. ‘Are you sure you want to stay on, Madeline?’
Madeline managed a smile. ‘I don’t mind,’ she murmured quietly. ‘And it’s very kind of Mr. Vitale to offer to take me home.’
‘I see.’ Adrian sounded unconvinced. He had seen them talking together and had wondered what was transpiring. Now he knew. He was deceived for one moment and he was surprised that Madeline, whom he had thought he knew so well, should act so foolishly. After all, she scarcely knew the other man and Adrian had already heard about the kind of reputation Nicholas Vitale was supposed to have. As he did not know about their accidental meeting the previous week it looked even worse to him. He would never have believed that his secretary could be so deceitful.
He hesitated only a moment longer and then turned abruptly and strode away to where Hetherington was waiting for him. Madeline felt even more guilty now and rather mean. With a sigh she turned to Nicholas.
‘I’m sorry, Mr. Vitale, but I’d better go with him. He’ll be thinking I’m awfully ungrateful. After all, were it not for him, I shouldn’t be here this evening.’
Nicholas put out a hand and detained her. His hard fingers encircled the yielding flesh of her upper arm and she felt herself weaken.