Turbulent Covenant

by Jessica Steele

  `It's not much of a life for you, is it?' he commented.

  `Working hard when you're on duty and then not having any fun in your free time. I know it's difficult for you,' he went on slowly, 'but if you can put up with it for a little while longer, I'm sure our present situation will resolve itself to my satisfaction and, I sincerely hope, to yours.'

  All the relief she had felt at his understanding vanished at his last words. Was he hinting that their marriage would soon be over? He must be, for he had said 'our present situation will resolve itself to my satisfaction', and as he had never meant their marriage to be anything but temporary, he must now be looking forward to its termination. Following on from that thought, she reasoned his father must be almost well again now.

  `How is your father?' she asked, before realising that since Ben couldn't read into her thoughts he must think her to have a grasshopper mind.

  He looked at her, paused to catch up with her, then seemed to make the connection, for he said, 'Quite well. In fact he's been home for over a week.' Tiffany wanted Harvey Maxwell to be well and quickly, but her pleasure on hearing he had left the hospital in Switzerland was somewhat dimmed by the knowledge that any time at all now Ben would be putting the wheels in motion for the annulment. She tried to keep her face an aloof mask, but knew it hadn't come off when he leaned forward and said, 'Trust me, Tiffany.'

  `Of course I trust you, Ben, you know that,' she said brightly, determined he shouldn't know anything of her bleak thoughts, then went crimson as she remembered the last time she had told him she trusted him, she had spent the night in his bed. The whole atmosphere lightened suddenly as she caught a glimpse of a wicked expression in his eyes as he gathered the reason for her blush. Deliberately she changed the subject.

  `How come you're home, anyway? I didn't think you were due in until Friday.' Oh God, she thought, growing more confused, every time I open my mouth I reveal my interest in him; he would know without a doubt now that she had checked with the Crewing Office on his flight plan.

  `I was in Vancouver when I heard that Woody Carpenter had gone down with a twenty-four-hour bug of some sort. I offered to take his flight which was due out the next day, and he stayed on in my place, which should give him another couple of days to get over it.' Tiffany suddenly remembered the note she had left, but cancelled any panic by thinking he wouldn't mention it. She was mistaken. 'So I arrived home early. Thanks for your note, by the way,' and as her colour increased, he said just one word : 'Why?'

  Tiffany moistened her lips. `I—er—I suppose it was a bit silly—but I get—I thought—well ...' She knew she was floundering, and her head came up defiantly. 'I thought it would be a nice welcome home.' There, she had just confirmed she was an idiot—leaving him a note when she wasn't even expecting him. She waited for his sarcasm, and was surprised when it didn't come.

  `Thank you,' he said quietly. She dared not look at him, but was glad he kept his thoughts on her stupidity to himself, and when he spoke again it was of something entirely different. 'I hope you don't mind, but now the Easter rush is over, I've arranged for you to have a few days off.'

  `How do you mean?' she asked, her eyes growing wide. `I have to report on Thursday.' Without really believing it, she saw a smile break across his face, a smile that turned into a grin that had so much charm in it at having to confess what he had been up to, it took all thought from her head.

  `You go back on Sunday,' he corrected her, and went on, seeing in her face that she couldn't believe he had got round the powers that be so easily, 'I told Crewing Officer

  we wanted time off together, and seeing that we haven't been married all that long, he seemed to think it a good idea.' Then out of politeness since it was fait accompli and there wasn't a thing she could do about it, 'Do you mind?'

  Tiffany just had to laugh, and it was music in her ears to hear Ben join in. 'I thought we would go and see my father and from there your aunt.'

  Secretly Tiffany was delighted. The chance of spending a few days with him, even if those days were to be spent with his father and her aunt, was heaven-sent. Bottling down her exultation, she answered evenly, 'I think that would be rather nice.'

  Three hours later they were driving through the leafy lanes of Warwickshire. The countryside was beautiful at this time of the year, trees and hedgerows bursting into life, a variety of greens singing at being released from winter bondage. The sight of several desolate elm trees, once beautiful but now dead after an onslaught from Dutch elm disease, was a sobering sight, but other trees flourished, refusing to be daunted by the death of their neighbours.

  The village where Ben's father lived rose just over the Warwickshire border, a quiet village in Worcestershire. Tiffany hadn't realised it was so close to her aunt's. Ben had never discussed his home with her, so she was quite unprepared for the splendour of the old Georgian house that stood waiting for them. Her eyes widened with disbelief when Ben nosed the car through the tall iron gates and up the long drive, and he said, 'Here we are.'

  `Ben !' Further words were beyond her.

  `Like it?' he asked, his pride in his home barely concealed.

  `It's beautiful,' she breathed, and Michael Croft's words came back to her, 'Ben Maxwell could buy Nick's father out any time he wants to'. 'I had no idea you came from

  this sort of background,' she said. The gardens themselves as they had passed had told her it would cost a great deal in gardeners' wages alone for their upkeep.

  `I know you didn't marry me for my money,' Ben said lightly. 'Now close your mouth, you're gaping.'

  Both Frances and Harvey Maxwell came out to greet them as they got out of the car, and among the general greetings Tiffany had time to get over her shocked surprise. Then they were stepping into a wide hall and into a room Tiffany took to be the sitting room, uncluttered and cosy despite its high ceiling. A comfortable three-piece suite was grouped round a stone fireplace in which a huge log fire was ablaze.

  Father and son studied each other, Ben's eyes keen for any sign of his father's former illness. There was none. `You look great,' he said quietly. 'It's good to see you back home.' There was emotion in the air and Ben turned to Frances to relieve it. 'But I expect Fran has told you that already.'

  Frances agreed she had and smiled at her husband, who returned her smile before he said to Ben, 'Now that I'm home, Ben, and you're here, we must get it all sorted out.'

  What it was that was to be sorted out, Tiffany didn't have time to guess, for Frances was saying, 'Come on, Tiffany, we'll leave this pair and I'll show you your room.'

  There was no mistaking the joy within Frances Maxwell. It was clear for all to see how happy she was to have her husband back with her. Tiffany felt some of her happiness brushing off on to her and remarked how pleased she was he had made such a good recovery.

  `It is marvellous, isn't it—you have no idea how much I missed him while he was away. I wanted to stay in Switzerland with him during his illness, but he wouldn't have it.' Clearly Harvey Maxwell meant everything to her, and

  suddenly Frances gave a half embarrassed laugh. 'Sorry if I sound a bit soppy,' she said, 'but you have to admit these Maxwell men certainly have that something extra!' Tiffany was able to return her smile without comment; she couldn't within any truth argue against what Frances had said.

  The bedroom she showed her to was on the first floor. `This used to be Ben's room before he left home. We thought you would like to have it during your stay.' For a brief while Tiffany lost some of what else Frances was saying, and came to to hear her say, `... and the bathroom is just across the hall. I'll leave you now to come down when you're ready. Lunch won't be long.'

  Tiffany managed to keep her feelings hidden while Frances had been with her, but as soon as she had gone her knees buckled and she sank down heavily on one of the twin beds. Then restlessly she got up again. Yes, both beds had been made up, and unless she'd got it wrong, she and Ben would be sharing this room.

  Impossible to make a fu
ss. Until Ben said otherwise, it was still important that Harvey Maxwell thought their marriage a normal one. And had their marriage been normal then she would have been upset if Frances had given them separate rooms. No, she mustn't make a fuss. What was the difference anyway? She had slept in the flat alone with Ben many times—had even slept in his bed and come to no harm!—But, a voice .within her argued, that had been before he had aroused her dormant desires this morning.

  She was looking sightlessly out of the window when a movement behind her told her Ben had come into the room. She heard a movement like the sound of their cases being put down but didn't turn round, her conviction becoming a certainty that tonight they would be sleeping in the same room. She heard him move coming closer to her, held herself stiff when his hands descended on her

  shoulders and couldn't relax no matter how hard she tried. `I should have thought of this,' he apologised, his voice sounding concerned, 'but I didn't.'

  Who could resist the concern in his voice? How could she be upset when clearly Ben was hating himself for his lack of foresight? Tiffany's anxiety dissolved, but she could not turn round.

  `I didn't think of it either,' she said softly, and because she couldn't bear that because of her he should be made to feel uncomfortable, she said lightly, 'We'll just have to imagine we're at home with a wall between us.' She gave a nervous laugh, and felt the hands of her shoulders tighten, then heard his voice coming huskily to her :

  `Do you know something, Tiffany Rowley-Maxwell? I like you.'

  She laughed gently because it pleased her that he liked her, and as his hands fell away from her, so too did any tension between them. She turned and moved away from him, her eyes going to her suitcase. 'By the way, Ben Maxwell,' she said, still on a light note, 'you might have told me you were one of the landed gentry.'

  `Hardly that,' he replied, that half smile she loved so much in evidence. 'I'll take you a walk round the estate later. Meantime I've come to collect you to take you down for a drink. You were up here so long that your father-in-law is getting impatient to see you.'

  She wasn't sure of the truth of that statement, but it didn't matter. She and Ben were friends again, and what was more, he had grown to like her. If only a little love could spring from that liking ... Quickly she preceded him from the room, knowing she must be thankful for what she had.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THEY must have walked miles that afternoon, she and Ben, and by the time they turned back towards the house Tiffany was thoroughly enthralled with everything. They had finished up in the office where Ben had introduced her to Caleb Gibbs, a man in his fifties who had helped with the running of the estate for many years. It was clear as Caleb told her of the paper work involved that the estate was run along business lines, and he added, 'I seem to spend more time in the office than out of it,' tacking on, 'Not that I mind so much—I'll let the youngsters learn all about the wet and cold of winter !'

  They were walking up the drive when she saw a green sports car parked in front of the house, and as she and Ben went into the hall sounds of laughter greeted them from the sitting room. It was with surprise and pleasure that on entering the room, Tiffany saw Holly Barrington.

  `Couldn't resist coming over as soon as I knew you two were here,' she greeted Tiffany, and then with typical Holly enthusiasm she launched herself at Ben, kissing him soundly.

  `You don't change, Holly,' he told her, 'even though you know I'm a respectable married man.' That pleased Tiffany so much she joined in the rest of the laughter.

  Holly said she wasn't staying, for all it was two hours before she departed. 'I've promised Mother I'll be in tonight—she doesn't believe me, of course. No, honestly,' at Frances' invitation that she should stay to dinner, 'I must have an evening at home. Already there are dark mutterings

  of "I'm sure I've seen your face somewhere before" whenever I go in.'

  Holly was incorrigible, Tiffany thought as she sat putting the finishing touches to her make-up prior to going down to dinner that evening. She felt she could have made a true friend of her.

  Ben had changed first and had gone down, and she was almost ready herself apart from dropping the long flame-coloured dress over her head. She studied her face in the mirror. Was it too thin? Too fat? In actual fact it was rather a lovely shaped face, but at that moment she was trying to decide which type appealed to Ben. She had long ago discounted that Holly held any interest for him other than affection grown over the years, and Frances' appeal hadn't been the sort to hold his attention for very long, so what type of girl did he go for? She had never heard of him dating any of the stewardesses, but in Switzerland Holly had mentioned a Paula somebody or other and a Karen who had made him disappear in the opposite direction—she didn't know if they were dark-haired like herself or redheads or even blonde.

  The unexpected turning of the door handle made her jump and had her looking frantically round for her robe, but Ben was already in the room, his glance flicking over her seated in her petti-bra at the dressing table.

  `Sorry, Tiffany,' he said, the door closed behind him. 'I can't back out, my father's in the corridor,' and then to try and lighten the confused look of her, 'My, you're a pretty pink !'

  `I—I should have been ready,' she told him, leaving her seat and taking her dress from its hanger, 'but it's so peaceful here I somehow lost all sense of time.'

  She had her dress half over her head when she heard him say, 'You like it here?' and straightening up after pulling

  the folds of her dress into place, she found his eyes fixed on her, and for an instant thought he looked as if her answer was important to him, then he smiled and she knew she had imagined it.

  `Yes, I do,' she answered, and wanted to tell him that in a very short space of time she had come to love Linwood, but was afraid he might see she loved him too.. 'I like it,' she understated, but she thought he knew she was sincere because there was an element of warmth creeping into his smile.

  She looked away from him as she struggled with her zip, and found herself spun round, felt his hands fixing it for her, making her feel a delicious tingle as his fingers came into contact with her warm skin.

  `My father wants me to come down and take over from him,' he said, his task completed as Tiffany turned round to stare at him.

  `Do you mean—come and live here?' Her throat felt dry, she couldn't take it in for a minute, and to hide the gamut of emotions at what that would mean, she returned to the dressing table and picked up her lipstick.

  `What with his illness and his refusal to have Fran join him in Switzerland, one way and another they got off to a very bad start, so they've decided to go on an extended honeymoon. Dad says the estate is too much for him now, and since it will be mine one day anyway, he's only waiting until I can take over before he and Fran get off.'

  Tiffany couldn't say that what he had just told her was anything other than an enormous jolt, and she was never more glad than to be able to summon up her pride as her eyes met his in the mirror. There seemed to be a question lurking in the depths of those grey eyes, but she had no way of knowing what it was. Was he telling her that as soon as the arrangements for him to take over had been completed

  their marriage would be at an end? She didn't know, but pride was forcing her to be casual.

  'You don't mind leaving the Airline?'

  If he was put out by her casually asked question, he certainly covered it well, she thought. 'No, I shan't mind—I've enjoyed the life, but I've always known it wasn't permanent. My contract runs out at the end of the summer—I won't be renewing it.' He was about to add something else when a maid tapped on the door to say dinner was almost ready.

  Should she ask him about the annulment or wait for him to mention it? Tiffany wondered as she went with him down the stairs. And because she couldn't bear to think about it, let alone bring the matter up, she decided to leave it all to him. Perhaps she was being weak, she conceded, but where he was concerned she didn't want to think further than
today. She would enjoy the remainder of the time she had left with him, she resolved, and tomorrow would be faced when it came.

  Talk over dinner touched on Ben taking over the estate, but was mainly about the places Frances and Harvey hoped to visit. It was a strange evening for Tiffany. It was as if now, knowing that the break between her and Ben would come with the ending of summer, each moment was precious, moments to be stored for when he had gone out of her life for ever. She concentrated on enjoying the evening, on not fretting or worrying, on making sure no note of discord touched them, and found with surprise that she had laughed quite naturally when anyone said anything amusing, and when she and Ben said goodnight to Frances and Harvey she realised it was one of the best evenings she had ever spent.

  Her feeling of goodwill lasted until she and Ben were in the bedroom they were to share, then an embarrassed shy-

  ness came over her, threatening to freeze her over. She couldn't undress with Ben in the same room, she just couldn't. Yet to be seen coming back from the bathroom by either Fran or Harvey with a bundle of clothes under her arm, and wondering what they would make of that, was not to be thought of.

  `Something wrong?' Ben had already taken off his jacket, and attracted by the very stillness of her was looking across, the expression on her face halting him as he began to undo his cuff links. 'You're not worried I might act like I did first thing this morning, are you?' he asked, his face suddenly sombre as he mistook her embarrassed shyness for fear. `Rape isn't quite in my line.' She could hear an edge creeping into his voice. 'And I don't intend to start with my wife.'

  `It isn't that,' Tiffany said quickly.

  `Then what the hell's causing you to look like that?' he exploded. 'If you're not all knotted up with the fear we shall be using only one bed tonight, what in God's name is wrong with you?'

  His stinging tone was doing nothing to make her feel less of a fool. He was making her feel more stupid than ever, and the longer she delayed in telling him, the greater it became in magnitude. Then suddenly he seemed to realise it wasn't fear that kept her mute, seemed to recognise at last that she was almost going under with the weight of embarrassment, and he came over to her, his fingers lifting her chin with a gentle touch until he was looking down into her velvety brown eyes.