Legacy of the Past

by Anne Mather

  ‘Maybe not,’ he said quietly, ‘but now you are here and I want to take you home, and I usually get what I want. He’ll get over it.’ There was arrogance in his voice and she felt half annoyed.

  ‘I can make up my own mind, thank you,’ she replied stiffly.

  ‘Can you? I wonder. Either way, it’s too late now. He’s gone.’

  And so he had! After bidding farewell to his host and hostess, Adrian had left the room without a backward glance. The decision had been made for her.

  Feeling a nervous apprehension descend upon her, Madeline looked about her. The exquisitely furnished room was full of strangers. Even the man beside her was a stranger. She must be completely mad! Adrian would certainly think so.

  She was aware that Nicholas Vitale’s hand was still holding her arm and she looked up at him, her eyes questioning. Just as he returned her gaze Harvey turned round to speak to them and immediately she was free. She rubbed her arm where he had held it, and felt her blood pounding through her veins.

  ‘Have you enjoyed yourself, then?’ asked Harvey, his eyes dancing.

  Madeline gave a small smile. ‘Very much, thank you.’

  Harvey grinned, ‘You sound like a little girl thanking her teacher for the Sunday school treat!’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Madeline straightened her shoulders. ‘Actually, it’s been quite a new experience for me.’

  ‘You must repeat the experience again, soon,’ said Harvey easily. ‘There are usually a few unattached males like myself at these gatherings who enjoy having an attractive woman to talk to.’ He grimaced openly at Nicholas.

  Madeline herself glanced surreptitiously in Nicholas Vitale’s direction, but he was now talking to another man who had joined them and they seemed thoroughly absorbed in their own conversation.

  ‘Did I hear aright?’ went on Harvey, in a low voice. ‘Is Nick really taking you home?’

  ‘That’s right.’ She shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘Why do you ask?’

  Harvey gave a low whistle. ‘My, my,’ he said admiringly. ‘You certainly are a brave little girl. Taking on Nick is a different proposition from taking on me. Watch your step. Nick eats little girls like you for breakfast.’

  ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous,’ exclaimed Madeline, aware with every moment that passed that she had been a fool not to leave with Adrian. She was out of her depth here. These were not her kind of people. She was not even in their income bracket for a start. And Harvey’s teasing simply annoyed her now. ‘I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you.’

  ‘Are you, indeed?’ Harvey looked sceptical.

  Madeline looked again at Nicholas Vitale. He was explaining some facet of technical car design to the other man and was demonstrating with his lean, tanned fingers the size of the component he was describing. Madeline felt her heart miss a beat. She wondered how it would feel to have those hands touching her, caressing her. Something about this man drew her tremendously and it was frightening to feel this way. Until now, no man, and certainly not Joe, had affected her like this. It was a strange new experience. She was becoming aware of sensations about herself she had not even known existed.

  As though sensing her scrutiny, Nicholas suddenly looked across at her. Seeing the rather tensed expression on her face, he murmured:

  ‘Do you want to leave now?’

  Madeline looked about her helplessly. ‘Well…I…don’t let me distract you from your conversation. I can easily get a taxi.’ Inside her she felt she had got to get away from here, and fast! She was panicking, she knew, but was unable to stop herself.

  Nicholas Vitale frowned, his brows drawn together in an angry line.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ he replied coolly. ‘Harvey, will you explain to Belmont about the new distributor head?’

  Harvey shrugged his shoulders. ‘Okay, Nick. Will I see you in the morning?’

  ‘Sure. I’ll be in early. I have to go to the airport later to meet Maria.’

  ‘Okay,’ Harvey grinned, and winked at Madeline, but she was in no mood to appreciate his humour. To her mind, there was no humour in this situation.

  The Mastersons looked surprised to see them leaving together. Madeline thought that Lucie Masterson looked positively venomous as she said good-bye to the younger woman. She had adopted a possessive attitude with Nicholas earlier, but it was plain to see that whatever she would like to think, Nicholas had no interest in her.

  Madeline was glad when they got outside. She had put on her coat in the hall and Nicholas had donned a short camel coat. It was raining heavily as they hurried across the courtyard to where a low-slung white saloon was parked. It, too, was a Sheridan, but of a different type from the red one.

  He helped her inside and then walked round and slid in beside her. The seats were wide and luxurious and superbly comfortable. Madeline felt herself relaxing and lay back lazily in her seat.

  Nicholas’s coat collar was up and although he turned on the engine, before moving away he turned towards her. Madeline thought he really was a most devastatingly handsome man, and her heart leapt into her throat.

  ‘Why did you say you would take a taxi?’ he asked abruptly.

  Madeline was shaken out of her placidity. ‘I thought you were involved and I didn’t want to disturb you,’ she replied, feeling as nervous as a kitten.

  He looked sceptical. He had switched on the interior light now and she was aware of looking as guilty as could be.

  ‘Well, honestly,’ she cried, ‘I’m just an ordinary widow with no pretensions to beauty, with a daughter who is nearly grown-up. Of what possible interest can I be to you? I’m not your type, at all.’

  Nicholas shrugged, almost imperceptibly, and then switched off the light. The car moved swiftly down the drive and out on to the Otterbury road. They moved effortlessly along and Madeline wondered whether she would ever feel normal again.

  ‘Why should you imagine I am interested in you?’ he asked slowly.

  Madeline felt as though her knees were shaking and she hoped he would not notice. His remarks were disconcerting to say the least and she did not know how to answer him. She decided to ignore his question and said:

  ‘I live not far from here. It’s the next turning on your right. It’s really quite near Ingleside. If you stop at the end of the road I can easily walk up….’

  He did not reply, but the car curved into the Gardens and drove on.

  ‘These are the flats,’ she managed to say in a small voice, and he stopped the car instantly. The Gardens were deserted; the downpour had deterred anyone from leaving the comfort of their homes.

  Madeline fumbled with her handbag and gloves, preparatory to getting out, but he said deliberately: ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  She was glad the light was not on at that moment. Darkness was friendly and unrevealing and she was sure her face was like a tomato.

  ‘No…did you expect an answer?’

  ‘Of course.’ He turned towards her, his thigh brushing hers as he did so. ‘I want to know.’

  She was certain now that he was conscious of the effect he was having on her. His nearness was breathtaking and exhilarating, and although she knew she ought to feel angry with him, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of longing for a closer contact.

  ‘I think you’re teasing me,’ she said, at last, trying rather unsuccessfully to introduce a lighter vein.

  ‘No, I am not.’ He looked amused.

  She had never dreamed any man could be so disturbing. She had never in her life before had to deal with a situation like this. Her life had, in many ways, been sheltered and Nicholas Vitale was an entirely unknown quantity.

  ‘Tell me,’ he murmured, ‘are you scared? Is that why you’re trembling? What has Harvey been saying to you?’

  His arm was along the back of the seat behind her and his fingers closed on her shoulder, stilling the trepidation she was feeling.

  ‘N…N…Nothing,’ she stammered, her whole being alight with
emotion; an emotion caused by the touch of his hand.

  ‘I’m sure he has said something,’ he remarked, studying her profile in the light from the street lamp.

  He was so close to her she could smell the clean, male fragrance about him, the indefinable maleness enhanced by good tobacco and shaving cream. He was deliberately challenging her, making her wholly aware of herself as a woman and she felt warm all over.

  ‘I must go,’ she said firmly, and put her hand on the door handle. Nicholas leaned past her and prevented her from opening it. He did not intend letting her go, just like that. In a short space of time she had aroused feelings in him which he had thought permanently dormant.

  ‘Not yet,’ he murmured softly. ‘I want to know when I will see you again.’

  Madeline stared at him. ‘Are you serious?’

  He frowned momentarily. ‘Sure I’m serious. Did you imagine I would drive you home and walk out of your life, as simple as that?’

  ‘I don’t know. You might have imagined I was…well….’

  ‘Easy?’ he supplied softly. ‘I never thought that for a moment. Now, when?’

  ‘I can’t think why you want to see me, then.’

  ‘Can’t you?’ He smiled almost mockingly. ‘No, perhaps not. For a woman who has been married, you’re incredibly naïve.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Madeline, her voice a little hurt.

  ‘Well, it is a compliment in many ways,’ he remarked softly. ‘Do you know you’re a very desirable woman?’

  Madeline shivered. ‘I’m just an ordinary housewife, who has to go to work,’ she said, with a sigh.

  ‘Not to me,’ he murmured, his fingers twisting a curl of amber hair. ‘Come on, honey. Tomorrow night, hmn?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Madeline was having difficult in articulating.

  ‘Why not? Don’t fence, Madeline. That’s not necessary between us. I want you to come and I know you want to come. It’s as simple as that. You’re as damned well disturbed by me as I am by you.’

  ‘I…I disturb you?’ She stared at him.

  His eyes were dark and unreadable, but she could sense the power behind the words. His fingers tightened convulsively about her shoulders for a moment and then he released her.

  ‘Stop baiting me,’ he muttered. ‘Now, tomorrow night. What time?’

  ‘My daughter might not approve,’ she murmured, her resistance ebbing.

  ‘That’s too bad.’ There was arrogance in his voice again. ‘Look, I’ll pick you up here at seven-thirty, right?’

  ‘Oh, all right.’ Madeline bent her head. She was powerless to refuse.

  ‘Good.’ Taking a handful of her hair, he pulled her head back and looked down into her face. ‘Be punctual,’ he muttered.

  Madeline’s lips were parted as she stared at him and he groaned:

  ‘Don’t make me touch you, honey, or I won’t let you go.’

  Madeline drew her head away from him and slid out of the car all in one movement. To her surprise he slid out too and they stood together for a moment in the rain.

  ‘Don’t forget,’ he murmured softly, all the arrogance gone from him now.

  ‘As if I could!’ she whispered helplessly, and ran swiftly into the apartment building.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  DIANA was sitting in an armchair, reading, when Madeline let herself in. She looked up smiling at her mother.

  ‘Isn’t Uncle Adrian with you?’

  Madeline removed her damp coat before replying. She still felt rather shaken and found difficulty in speaking and acting as though nothing untoward had occurred.

  ‘I didn’t come home with Adrian, darling,’ she answered slowly. ‘He left a little earlier to take Mr. Hetherington home and I came with someone else.’

  Diana looked suspicious and Madeline wondered guiltily what she would think if she could read her mother’s thoughts at that moment.

  ‘Who?’ Diana asked at once.

  Madeline smoothed her hair nervously. ‘Mr. Vitale, darling.’

  Diana frowned. The name was familiar. Of course that was the name of the man who owned the new factory. She looked flabbergasted.

  ‘Vitale? You mean the one from the factory?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Madeline hoped she was smiling brightly. ‘Wasn’t that a surprise? Have you had supper?’

  Diana did not reply to her question but rose to her feet. ‘Mum, have you and Uncle Adrian had a row?’

  Madeline flushed. ‘Of course not. Don’t be silly. I’m not responsible to Adrian for my movements, am I?’

  Diana looked more suspicious than ever. This was a most peculiar affair as far as she could see. Her mother had never departed for the evening with one man and returned home with another in the past. Come to think of it, Uncle Adrian was the only man Diana could ever remember her mother going out with, since Daddy died.

  ‘Did you enjoy yourself, then?’ she asked politely.

  ‘Oh, yes. It was very interesting,’ replied Madeline inadequately. ‘There were quite a lot of Americans there too.’

  ‘This Mr. Vitale – he’s Italian, of course?’

  ‘Of course. Not that I know much about him, but I think he is.’

  ‘Oh!’ Diana shook her head. She didn’t understand all this, but Madeline determined to change the subject. As for the following evening’s engagement, she dreaded to think how she was going to introduce that without causing more embarrassment.

  ‘I see you did wash your hair,’ she remarked, walking into the kitchen briskly to make the coffee for supper.

  ‘Yes.’ Diana sighed and flung herself back in the chair. She was still pondering over her mother’s actions, although it was apparent that Madeline did not want to talk about it. Diana thought she looked different too. Younger somehow, and much less sure of herself. Diana did not like it. What was this man really like who had brought her home? Was he young or old? And why had he decided to bring her mother? Surely he couldn’t be interested in her.

  Diana swallowed hard. No, she was definitely making a mountain out of a molehill. After all, if this man lived in town it was logical to suppose that he had simply offered to drop Madeline off here on his way.

  The following morning they slept in. Madeline was late for school and dreaded meeting Adrian after last night’s episode. He would be bound to demand an explanation of her actions and she hadn’t one to give him. She could hardly say she had gone home with Nicholas Vitale because she had felt an immediate attraction towards him.

  And she still hadn’t told Diana about the evening. Really, life was becoming increasingly complicated.

  She seated herself at her desk and began typing diligently. Lessons began at nine-thirty, but the school assembled in the hall prior to this for morning prayers. Adrian conducted the prayers and did not usually return to his office until after the first period.

  Today, however, he returned immediately after prayers. Madeline was engrossed in the schedules he had left her the previous evening and hoped he would not tackle her on private matters until later in the day. But she was doomed to disappointment, Adrian came straight into her office and walked purposefully up to her desk.

  ‘Well,’ he said. ‘So you got home safely?’

  ‘Naturally.’ Madeline managed a smile. ‘It was an interesting evening, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Enormously,’ said Adrian with some sarcasm.

  ‘Now look,’ said Madeline, deciding to take the bull by the horns, ‘you’re in no position to criticize my actions.’

  Adrian snorted. ‘If our relationship was purely a business one, which it’s not, I should still feel obliged to warn you about Vitale.’

  ‘Warn me?’ Madeline stared at him.

  ‘Yes, warn you. Madeline, Nicholas Vitale is a man of the world. Good lord, he’s not a man for you to play around with. Let him confine himself to his own kind. They won’t object to his actions.’

  ‘Oh, really, Adrian! Mr. Vitale only took me home.’

  ‘Maybe.
But he could have…well…shall we say, molested you.’

  ‘He could have what?’ Madeline almost laughed. ‘What an old-fashioned expression, Adrian! Besides, I hardly think Mr. Vitale has to employ those tactics with his physical attributes.’

  Adrian stiffened his shoulders. ‘My dear Madeline, I have always considered you a sane and sensible woman; one indeed with whom I should like to share my life, but since last evening you seem to have changed into an irresponsible schoolgirl and I’m deeply disappointed in you.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because, although you’ve been married, your marriage seems to me to have been quite unique. You were so young and although I suppose you had your reasons for marrying Joe, and I don’t want to intrude on your private affairs, I do think you’re not experienced in the ways of men. Nicholas Vitale is far different from Joe, who seems to have placed you on a pedestal and worshipped you from afar, as they say. You seem so – untouched. You have an innocent appearance which I’ve always admired. I know you have a child, but I don’t think passion has ever touched you. I know Vitale is physically attractive, but you have no idea of the raw, animalistic tendencies that are apparent in some men.’

  Madeline interrupted him hotly. She looked and felt very embarrassed. ‘Please, Adrian, don’t go on. I don’t want to hear any more.’

  ‘I’m quite sure you don’t,’ he agreed, frowning. ‘Which only goes to prove that you think you know what you’re doing.’

  ‘But what am I doing? I only came home with him, didn’t I?’

  ‘And are you seeing him again?’

  She shrugged, as casually as she could. ‘I don’t know,’ she murmured awkwardly.

  Adrian looked disbelievingly at her but did not contradict her.

  ‘Madeline, my dear, I don’t want to see you hurt. My thoughts are only for you. You know that.’

  Madeline sighed, and reached for her handbag. She extracted her cigarettes and lit one slowly. Everything Adrian had said was buzzing round in her mind and a lot of it was true. Was she so naïve? Did she appear ridiculously vulnerable? After all, even Nicholas Vitale had said she was naïve, and that after only one evening’s acquaintance. And now, the idea of going out with him this evening was beginning to loom frighteningly on the horizon. Might it not be better to ring him and cancel the whole thing now? If Adrian was wholly right about him he was only amusing himself anyway and she knew she couldn’t react to a situation like that as he might expect her too. She was no fly-by-night evening’s entertainment. She was a serious person at heart and she had no intention of indulging in a tawdry affair however exciting it might seem at the time. As she pondered on these things, memories of Joe flooded back to her. His gentleness; his unemotional tenderness; the love he had so selflessly given her when she had had none to give in return. Instinctively she knew that Nicholas Vitale would take as much as he gave, passionately, and there would be nothing gentle or undemanding about it.