Turbulent Covenant

by Jessica Steele

  Turbulent Covenant by Jessica Steele

  To get herself out of a scrape after Nick Cowley had walked out on her, Tiffany had pretended to be engaged to Ben Maxwell, who didn't like her any more than she liked him. But the situation became even more involved when she found herself first falling in love with him and then getting married to him. She was still under no illusions that he cared about her, though, so she supposed she ought to be thankful that at least they now seemed to be on fairly friendly terms. But then any thoughts of eventually making the marriage a success disappeared in the face of Ben's suspicion that she was still involved with Nick.

  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITTIAN

  Books you will enjoy by JESSICA STELE

  RELUCTANT RELATIVE

  Alandra Todd was honouring her mother's deathbed wish by going to visit her estranged family's home. She was all set to dislike her relations on sight, and the atmosphere on' her arrival, was less than welcoming. But slowly her first opinion of them began to change—all except the dislike she felt for the objectionable Matt Carstairs, who made it obvious that he didn't trust her or her motives . . .

  TETHERED LIBERTY

  It wasn't Cally's fault that she had been stranded in Mexico with no money and no return ticket home; it wasn't her fault that her brother Rolfe had jilted the girl he had been going to marry. So why did the lordly Javier Zarazua Guerrero act as if it was? Did he expect Cally to pay for her brother's sins?

  NO QUIET REFUGE

  Mercy was a nice, quiet girl expecting to make a pleasant, decorous marriage. So it was a horrible shock to her to wake up one morning in bed with a man she'd met only the previous day—and to be found in that situation by her fiancé. How was she to cope with such a predicament?

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the Author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the Author, and all the incidents are pure invention.

  The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the publisher in any form ofbinding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  First published 1980

  This edition 1983

  © Jessica Steele 198o

  ISBN 0 263 74448 501-1083

  CHAPTER ONE

  IT had been a good flight. The mammoth aircraft had brought them to fine weather in London. A little cold perhaps, especially after the brilliant sunshine of Australia, but a welcome change from the November drizzle they had left in London less than a week before.

  To Tiffany Nicholls, stewardess with Coronet Airlines, November might just as well lived up to its reputation and been dull and foggy. Try as she might she just could not lift the feeling of despondency which had been with her since the day they had taken off Australia-bound.

  Mechanically she had carried out her duties, had been pleasant and helpful to the passengers on board, her natural sensitivity masking the ache within her. She'd tried hard to put Nick Cowley out of her thoughts, but no matter how hard she tried his face would appear again and again—How could she have been so wrong about him)

  Again she saw his good-looking face and her eyes took on a wounded, haunted look as she thought, not for the first time, how certain she had been that he was sincere. Theirs was not a fleeting attraction, she had thought their relationship had been deep and meaningful. Nick hadn't exactly asked her to marry him, but it had been understood between them—so she thought.

  Tiffany bit fretfully at her bottom lip, and was so deep in her memories that it came as something of a shock to find the captain of the aircraft at her elbow, and to find her memories being rudely interrupted by his brusque :

  Would you mind stepping out of the way—I'd like to get by.'

  Tiffany came to, to realise she was still standing in the doorway after seeing the last passenger off. There was room for Captain Maxwell to squeeze by, as big as he was, but the look on his face as his eyes flicked over her curves told her, while other men might find her attractive, if he had his way he wouldn't come within ten yards of her. Hastily she moved to one side, a slight pink coming up under her skin. She had never liked the man, but he needn't make it so obvious he couldn't bear the sight of her either.

  Ben Maxwell moved as though to step through the opening and then down the stairway, but paused and looked down at her as she blanked all expression from her face.

  `A word of advice, Nicholls.' The use of her surname told her whatever advice he had for her was not going to be anything she wanted to hear, though she could never remember him calling her by her first name anyway, but she looked steadily back into his cold grey eyes, the training she had making her hold her tongue when what she would like to have done was to tell him what he could do with any advice he had for her, but when he continued with, 'Learn to handle your love life,' the faint pink in her cheeks turned to scarlet as he hit at the very heart of her.

  `How did ... ?' came spurting from her before she realised he couldn't possibly know her love life had collapsed around her, and that his suggestion was purely the result of extremely good guesswork.

  `How did I know?' he finished for her. 'I'd have to be blind not to— Snap out of it, Nicholls,' he told her harshly. 'If you can't handle your love life, at least have

  the good manners not to bore the rest of us with your dramatics.'

  All Tiffany's training went for nothing as she opened her mouth to retaliate in furious anger, but before one solitary word could leave her, Ben Maxwell was already descending the steps and striding across the tarmac.

  It was beneath her to yell after him, she decided, as she glared at his departing back. Oh, how she hated him! Who did he think he was? Being one of the best pilots Coronet had didn't give him the right to be so downright rude. She joined the other stewardesses and went about her duties, her whole body seething. I just hope your love life turns sour on you one day, Captain Benedict Maxwell! she fumed silently, and felt helpless with the frustration of knowing it never would. Not only was he capable and in command of any aircraft he flew, she was sure he was more than able to handle any emotional crisis that came into his life—though knowing him, he was too hard, too cold, to let emotions play any part in his life.

  Dramatics indeed ! She could have understood his stinging comments if she'd flung her arms about, gone into a swoon, or collapsed into tears every time somebody spoke to her, but she hadn't; she had gone about her work efficiently and quietly as she had been trained to do. I hope you get yours, she thought mutinously, and turned to see her friend and fellow stewardess Patti Marshall had come to join her in the galley.

  `Nearly finished?' Patti enquired, looking round to see if there was anything else that needed doing. There wasn't. 'Lord, I'm tired.'

  `Have I been any different this trip?' Tiffany asked her after giving a quick look round to see everything was in apple pie order.

  `Different?' Patti queried. 'No, I don't think so—you've

  been quiet, of course, but then you're not a noisy person, are you? Why do you ask?'

  `Oh, nothing.' Tiffany didn't want to reveal any of her conversation with Ben Maxwell to Patti, though she could trust her not to repeat anything she told her. 'Just something Ben Maxwell said, that's all.'

&nb
sp; `Oh-oh,' said Patti, her infectious grin coming to the fore. `If there is anything different about you, you can trust old eagle-eye Maxwell to spot it—I say, you're all right, aren't you? I mean, there's nothing wrong, is there ... ?' Patti's face took on a concerned look which didn't sit well on her usually happy smiling face.

  `No ...' Tiffany began, then realising she would rather Patti heard it from her than anyone else, for everyone's private life didn't stay private for very long with the tightly knit group of Coronet, 'N-Nick and I have split up.' There, it was out. The secret she had been nursing all week.

  `Oh, Tiffany, I'm sorry!' Patti was instantly sympathetic. She knew how head over heels in love with Nick Cowley her friend was, and even though in her opinion he was nowhere near good enough for her, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the pain Tiffany was feeling. Patti looked uncomfortable as a thought suddenly struck her. 'Your break-up with Nick didn't—er—have anything to do with what I said, did it?'

  `Of course not,' Tiffany denied quickly.

  Then there was no time for further conversation, for the Customs and Excise men were on board making their routine check of the stores and paper work, and Tiffany finally made her way to the staff car park without having another word with Patti.

  She had told Patti her split with Nick had nothing to do with anything she had said, but if Patti hadn't said,

  `Watch what you get up to, duckie,' when she had told her she was going away for the weekend with Nick, the break with him would not have come as soon as it had. Tiffany faced squarely that she ought to be grateful to Patti, and in a way she was, because Patti's careless remark had saved her from making an even bigger fool of herself, she thought as she drove to her flat.

  Nick had made it sound so romantic when he'd suggested they go away for the weekend. Just the two of them, he had said. Nick's father owned a light engineering business which kept him too busy to make frequent trips to the weekend cottage he owned in Wales. He had asked Nick to go down and give the place an airing, and Nick had waited until Tiffany had been able to get a long weekend off—Bookings had slackened off now that the holiday rush was over, and she had been delighted at the idea of spending three days solely in Nick's company.

  She had been looking forward to it so much she just had to tell somebody, and Patti was the obvious person to tell. But Patti's casually voiced, 'Watch what you get up to, duckie,' had planted the first doubts as to the innocence of the weekend.

  `Oh, it won't be anything like that,' she had told Patti confidently, fully expecting Patti to agree with her.

  Only Patti hadn't agreed with her, and the smile had left her face. 'Oh, Tiffany, you're so hopelessly naive,' she had sighed despairingly.

  `But it won't be like that,' Tiffany remembered arguing stoutly. 'Nick

  Patti cut her off short. 'Ask him,' she'd urged. 'Just ask him, Tiffany.'

  She hadn't wanted to ask him anything of the sort. Patti might think she was naive, but she didn't think so herself. Oh, she knew other girls might go away for the

  weekend with a man and act as though they were man and wife, but she'd been going out with Nick for some time now, and Nick knew she couldn't be like that. He understood that while she might thrill to being in his arms, fully enjoy his kisses, that when their lovemaking threatened to go beyond that stage, something, a kink she must have inherited from somewhere, stopped her from going any further. Nick had been puzzled by it at first, but when he had discovered there wasn't any way round it, he had accepted it—or so she had thought—and called her a sweet old-fashioned thing.

  So while knowing the weekend in Wales would be just as innocent as she had originally thought before Patti had planted the seed of doubt in her mind, Tiffany plucked up courage to ask Nick, knowing he would laugh at her, be amused by her anxiety. But her world had fallen apart to find he hadn't been amused. Astounded. Disbelieving. But definitely not amused.

  `You're not serious, Tiffy?' he'd asked, as though doubting he was hearing alright. 'Oh, for God's sake— surely you didn't think the weekend was going to be a Sunday school trip?' And noticing she had grown pale, her face troubled, 'It'll be all right, lover—nothing can go wrong. We'll have a fabulous time, honestly we

  He had made a grab for her, but she had evaded his arms. She had to think. Think clearly. The worst thing was she still wanted to go—wanted to feel his arms about her. But wasn't he treating the whole thing too light heartedly? Didn't he know she couldn't make that sort of commitment without some very deep soul-searching—didn't he understand the first thing about her? She had thought they were so close, yet here she was doubting his sincerity. He had told her often of his love for her, yet suddenly she had found herself doubting those words of love. And

  then, with blinding clarity, so sharp she had wanted to hide away from it, she knew Nick Cowley had never loved anybody but Nick Cowley, and that the weekend away with him would not be a weekend of growing to know each other better, a weekend where they could discover things ,about each other that had remained hidden in the company of other friends. They'd had some good times together, she acknowledged, but she saw at that moment that Nick wouldn't miss her if she went out of his life for ever, while she ...

  `I'm sorry, Nick, I can't come with you.'

  It had nearly broken her saying those words, even as she said them she was hoping she was mistaken in her sudden belief that this was the end. No longer would she be able to look forward to seeing him. Never again would she race out of the staff car park on her return from trips all over the globe and rush to meet him

  `Don't be wet, lover,' he had wheedled. 'It's happening all the time—couples are always going away together.' Her face had felt frozen as the implication of what couples went away for hit her—she had thought she and Nick were different. Nick had seen from her face that she couldn't be moved, and the smile had vanished from his face as he had sneered, 'You can't be a virgin all your life.'

  His words had taken away any vestige of doubt she had still been nursing. She should have been angry, should have hit out at him, if not with her hands, then at least verbally, but she had done neither. She had just felt dreadfully sick and had run away from him before he had seen just what his words had done to her.

  When she was a child family upsets, and there had always been plenty of those, had caused her to be physically sick. Her sensitivity was such that the anguish of her feelings had found an outlet in a stomach reaction. She had

  thought she had grown out of it. It had stopped happening when her parents had divorced and she had gone to live with her aunt, but on reaching the sanctuary of her flat, whatever had been between her and Nick as good as buried, she knew the malady of her childhood was still with her and she had only just made it to the bathroom in time. She had left' the bathroom to go and lie on her bed and force her mind not to relive the scene with Nick.

  It had been what she needed to be called out on duty. Ironically, her weekend had been cancelled as several of the other stewardesses had gone down with a virus infection.

  It had had to be Captain Benedict Maxwell in charge of the aircraft en route for Australia. Ben Maxwell, Tiffany now fumed. There had to be a fly in everyone's ointment, and he just happened to be hers. From the word go they had never hit it off, but there had been no need for him to be so cuttingly rude to her. Tiffany stayed her thoughts. Patti had said she had been quiet, but she hadn't thought she had been any more quiet than usual, but ... Had her sole preoccupation with thoughts of Nick interfered with her work? She had been sure it hadn't, though ... Tiffany didn't want Ben Maxwell to be right— she cast him out of her mind; she wouldn't give him another thought.

  She was glad to reach her flat, park her car and let herself in. Janet on the first floor had her spare key, she'd go down and see her later. Unbuttoning the dark blue jacket of her Airline issue suit, Tiffany slipped out of her shoes and stretched tiredly as she made for the bathroom. Soon she had the bath water running and was looking forward to a ten-minute soak. Bu
t before she got that far the phone in the sitting room rang. Nick, was her first thought, though she knew it wouldn't be him. It

  wasn't. Tiffany straightaway recognised her aunt Margery's voice.

  `I haven't heard from you, dear,' her aunt reminded her. Tiffany loved her aunt dearly, and about to explain she had just got in, had her reply taken completely from her mind as her aunt went on, 'And how is that young man of yours?'

  Oh God, she had forgotten she'd told her aunt everything about having a steady boy-friend. To have done so underlined how sure she had been at the time that Nick's avowal of love meant that he intended to ask her to marry him. She couldn't face just yet telling her the romance was off, and didn't know what she replied in answer to her question into Nick's health as she avoided saying anything that would distress her aunt. But whatever she had answered must have satisfied her, because she went on, her voice warm and full of love for her niece :

  `Has he proposed to you yet?'

  Her aunt's question thundered into Tiffany's brain, while part of her registered that she had left the bath taps running and if she didn't go and turn them off, Janet below would soon be flooded out. With cold, frightening shock, Tiffany realised she must have answered 'Yes', to her aunt's question of had Nick proposed. Quickly she opened her mouth to retract that statement, but her aunt was even quicker, as a sound of pure delight reached Tiffany's ears over the wires.

  `Oh, darling, I'm so happy for you! I doubt there's a happier woman anywhere. When is the wedding to be?'

  Tiffany was panic-stricken at the rapture in her aunt's voice, and the words to tell her she was no longer going out with Nick just wouldn't leave her throat. Her aunt had been convinced that her spinster state at the age of twenty-four was the direct result of the effect of the cat and dog

  life Tiffany's parents had led prior to their divorce eight years ago. And now, Tiffany thought, her aunt was in the seventh heaven to think it had left no permanent mark on her.