The first of the guests arrived promptly at eight- thirty and from then on they arrived in a steady stream. They were nearly all married couples, with here and there an odd divorcee or bachelor who tended to steer well clear of each other until they'd had a few drinks. Romily was introduced to them all, but felt as if she was in a different generation. And as everyone already knew each other, they had lots of friends and interests in common, so that she definitely felt left out of the conversation, too. She began to wonder if, after she had served supper and cleared up, she could sneak away and go up to the castle to see James. This thought made her feel much happier and she quite cheerfully picked up a tray of canapés and began handing them round.
She was standing with her back to the door, exchanging pleasantries with a group of people through the general hubbub of conversation, when the noise level seemed to suddenly drop and she saw the eyes of the couple in front of her widen incredulously as they looked past her. 'My God!' one of them exclaimed, and Romily turned in surprise to see what had created the sudden tension in the room.
James was standing inside the door, one hand still on the knob, the other with the thumb hooked nonchalantly on the pocket of the dark, extremely well-cut suit he was wearing. He looked very handsome, very sexy, and very self-assured. Beside him, every other man in the room became just a member of the masculine gender, but James had it all, and Romily had never been aware of his attraction more strongly than when he stood in the doorway, looking round for her in the ever-growing silence. Her heart seemed to grow in her chest until she found it difficult to breathe and she gazed at him with loving pride. In that moment she knew that she loved him utterly and that the feelings she had had for Richard were nothing compared to this. This was love. This was for always.
It wasn't until after he'd seen her and their eyes had met and held for a long moment that Romily realised that everyone else was staring at him too, and that the silence was one of shocked surprise. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gerald's face growing purple with rage and she hastily thrust her tray into someone's hand just as her brother began to take a hasty step forward. Quickly she ran up to James and took his arm, saying loudly, 'So you managed to make it after all. I'm so glad. Would you like a drink?' Gerald had come to a dumbfounded stop a couple of feet away and she turned to him with a smile, her arm still linked with James's. 'Gerald, I think you already know James, don't you? From when you were living here before.'
A kind of shocked gasp went up from almost everybody in the room and Gerald's face went from purple to white, although Romily didn't know what on earth she'd said to cause it. Trying to retrieve the situation, she said hastily, 'He lives up at the castle on the hill.'
Gerald was so angry that it didn't seem as if he could answer and she looked desperately over to Carol for help, but her sister-in-law was just standing there, her eyes wide in a set face as she stared at James, almost as if she'd seen a ghost. The situation was becoming nasty, and what would have happened if one of their American hotel guests hadn't stepped forward at that moment, Romily hated to think. The American woman, obviously quite unaware of the tense atmosphere, came up and said to James, 'Did I hear right? Do you really live in that lovely castle up on the hill?'
James nodded and turned politely to answer her. There was a sudden flurry of excited comment and Gerald turned and strode out of the room. Romily watched him go past, his face set into an icy mask of rage, his eyes fixed straight ahead, not even glancing at them as he passed. Feeling suddenly helpless, she looked again at Carol, but she had turned and was talking animatedly to the people near her as if nothing whatever had happened. Her feelings were in a turmoil of bewilderment, but Romily just knew that she must stay by James's side. Whatever the reason for this violent reaction to his appearance at the party, she must let everyone know that he was her guest, that she was with him. So as soon as he'd finished talking to the hotel guest, she took him out to the bar and got him a drink. He nodded and said hello to several people as they walked through the room, so it was evident that they knew him and were on reasonably good terms with him. But Romily couldn't help noticing that nearly everyone kept looking at them, some surreptitiously, some in open speculation.
They moved to a quieter corner of the bar and James clinked his glass against hers, his eyes smiling down at her with just the look she'd hoped to see there. 'You look very lovely,' he said softly.
But somehow nothing was the same any more and she said stiffly, 'Didn't you get my message? I asked you not to come tonight.'
'Yes, I got it.'
'Then why…?'
But James countered her question with another. 'Why didn't you tell them about us?'
Romily looked down at her drink. 'I was going to but Gerald found out I hadn't been to Maggie's that—that last time and asked me if I'd been seeing you. He got so worked up about it that I—well, I thought it better not to tell him until I'd talked to you and found out why he was so against you. Only you couldn't make Thursday and then you didn't ring. So I still…'
She broke off as some newcomers came up to the bar and went to get their drinks. The man looked round, saw James and said, 'Good God, never expected to see you here, James. Thought this was a no-go area for you since your bust-up with our host and hostess.'
'What bust-up?' his wife asked curiously.
'Oh, it all happened before I met you, darling. Years ago. James, here
'As you said,' James interrupted calmly, 'it was a very long time ago. And I'm here this evening as Romily's guest.'
He gestured towards her and she gave the couple a tight smile.
'Romily?' the woman repeated. 'Aren't you Gerald's sister?'
'Yes, that's right.' But as she acknowledged it, Romily's eyes moved to the husband, who was giving James a rather stunned look. Then he put a firm hand under his wife's elbow and led her back into the other room, where he began talking to her earnestly.
Romily watched them go, then turned to look at James, her eyes troubled. 'I think you'd better tell me just what's going on. Everyone else seems to know but me.'
He nodded frowningly, 'Yes, I suppose I should have told you before, but I didn't want to spoil things. And I wanted you to hear it first from either Carol or your brother.' He started to say something else but was interrupted by a group of people who came up to have their glasses replenished, and she was kept busy for quite some while.
Gerald came back into the room, his colour more or less back to normal, although he still looked a bit pale. Coming over to her at the bar, he picked up a couple of bottles of wine, opened them and walked back into the main lounge, filling up people's glasses as he went. Romily watched him, feeling slightly sick, her brother had neither spoken to nor looked at her, even though she had been standing right next to him.
As soon as she could, she joined James again. He was talking to some other guests, but broke off what he was saying to smile at her and put a possessive arm round her waist. She had already met the other guests earlier and they had greeted her pleasantly enough, but now they looked at her with a kind of curious fascination, making Romily feel as if her mascara was smudged or her dress was falling off or something. They made her feel uncomfortable and it was a relief when they moved on.
She turned to James fiercely. 'What the hell is it? I feel like a freak the way everyone keeps staring at us.'
His mouth tightening, James said, 'I can't tell you here. Is there somewhere where we can go and talk?'
Doubtfully, she said, 'There's only my room. But I'm supposed to be helping with the party. Carol will want me to serve the food soon.'
'Surely you can take———— ' He broke off, his eyes on someone behind her. Romily turned and saw that Carol had come into the bar and was looking round. Putting his hands on her shoulders, James turned Romily to face him and said in a low, urgent voice, 'Darling, there isn't time to explain now, but will you please promise me something? Will you please trust me? No matter what Carol or Gerald tell you tonight,
will you please remember what we have and trust me?'
Suddenly frightened, she said, 'Why? What is it? I don't understand.'
'Trust me,' he said in a fierce undertone.
Carol came up to them then, her face wearing the sociably charming smile that didn't reach her eyes that she usually reserved for the hotel guests. 'There you are, Romily. It's gone nine-thirty, I've been looking for you to help serve the food.' She turned her head and looked directly at James for the first time. 'Hello, James.'
He nodded shortly. 'Carol.'
'How nice to see you again. I do hope you're keeping well.' Carol went into the second round of social politeness, but her voice was chilling.
But James didn't go on the way he should. Instead of echoing the polite enquiry he put his arm round Romily's waist and drew her close to his side. 'Thank you,' he answered. 'I couldn't be better.' And he deliberately bent to kiss Romily's neck.
Carol's eyelids flickered and her face tightened, but that was all. Whatever emotions she might be feeling were held well under control.
His kiss made Romily angry; she felt as if she was being used by him to make some sort of show of defiance. And she didn't know why, that was the most annoying part. Whatever James and Gerald had rowed about in the past, presumably Carol was all on Gerald's side and must be angry on his behalf. And rightly so. It wasn't—wasn't gentlemanly of James to provoke her like this. And Carol was his hostess even if she hadn't personally invited him. Stepping away from James, she shot him a reproachful look and said, 'I—I'll go and do the food now.'
She hurried from the room without looking back, but was aware again of people breaking off their conversations to look at her, and then looking back at James and Carol.
In the kitchen, she took the big copper pan of deviled beef that had been gently simmering and carried it into the dining-room, then went back for the hot garlic bread and the rice. As she arranged the bread in a basket, Gerald came in, a half empty wine-bottle in his hand. Coming up to her, he caught her arm and swung her round, making her drop a piece of the bread on the floor.
'What the bloody hell do you mean by it?' he exploded. 'I told you to keep away from that filthy swine and yet you have the God-damned nerve to bring him here. Here, to my own house! My own sister, of all people!'
He was shaking her furiously as he spoke, his hands biting into her flesh, his teeth drawn back in a snarl of rage, like a fierce dog.
'Gerald, don't, please. I don't understand. Why are you so angry? What has James done to you?'
He stopped shaking her to stare into her face. 'You mean you don't know? He hasn't told you?'
'Told me what? No, I don't know anything.'
'My God, he's used you, then. Used you to get back into this house. The bastard!' Gerald raged furiously.
He turned to storm into the lounge, but Romily caught hold of him, afraid that he would make a scene, and so frustratedly angry now that she could assert her own will. 'No, you don't! You're not going anywhere until you explain what the hell you're talking about. How has James used me?
What is it I don't know about him? Why don't you like him?'
Her brother's mouth set into a bitter line. 'Ten years ago that—that bastard had an affair with Carol. He seduced my wife! That's why we left here and went to Bahrain. That's why I don't damn well like him!'
Romily stared at him appalled. 'Oh, no! With Carol? But—but she…' Her voice trailed away, words failing her. No wonder there had been that deathly hush when James had walked in the room! If everyone had known about it, they must have all been agog to see how the participants in this eternal triangle would react. Only it hadn't been just a trio, she thought on a spurt of anger; she was part of it too now. Only no one had seen fit to tell her.
'I wish I could hit him!' Gerald was fuming. 'I'd like to crush him into the ground! But with all these people here… Damn him, the clever bastard. He knew I wouldn't be able to do anything with everyone here. If he lays a finger on Carol, I'll…'
'Oh, for heaven's sake,' Romily interrupted him angrily. 'Let's face it, he's in far better condition than you are. If it came to a fight, you'd be the one who ended up on the ground. Now, let's get the rest of this food into the dining-room before it goes cold.'
Picking up the tray of garlic bread, she hurried past him, determined to try and play it down so that Gerald wouldn't start a fight or something equally stupid. She didn't know her brother well enough to know if he got drunk easily or not, or how much he'd had already tonight, but anyone could see that it wouldn't take much to push him over the edge into resentful violence. And all over something that happened ten years ago! She could see that it must have been a very traumatic thing to happen to them, but for heaven's sake, it was ten years ago!
'The food's ready,' she called, and went back to, stand by the table to ladle out the beef while Carol did the rice, the guests helping themselves to all the different side salads they had prepared. As her sister-in-law walked towards her Romily watched her with new eyes, seeing her as a woman instead of just Gerald's wife. She was still slim, still attractive, especially tonight when she had on her new silk dress and her dark hair cut and styled. She looked good now, so what had she looked like ten years ago when she was only—what—twenty-nine or thirty? A flash of jealousy gripped her and Romily's hand- tightened on the ladle. But then she was angry with herself; James would only have been twenty-five, and it was more than likely that it had been Carol who had done the seducing, whatever Gerald said or believed. And it took two to make a love affair.
'The food looks marvellous, Romily darling,' Carol said as she came up. She gave Romily a brittle smile which slipped when she looked into her eyes and saw that she knew—knew and condemned.
But there was no time for words, even if Carol had found anything to say to justify herself. The hungry guests came crowding round, exclaiming at the beautifully laid-out table and standing in line so eagerly that you'd think they hadn't eaten in days.
When everyone had been served, and had drifted away to find a chair or the stairs or floor to sit on to eat, Romily found that she wasn't in the least hungry herself so instead carried the serving dishes back into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment in the comparative privacy of the kitchen, the noise of the party just a hum of talk and laughter from across the hall, and felt suddenly so dejected that she could cry. Even though all this had happened long before she'd even met James, it still hurt to think that he'd been Carol's lover. That he'd held Carol in his arms and done all the wonderful things to her that he'd done to herself less than a week ago. Had they been lovers long? she wondered. Had they believed themselves to be in love, or had it just been sex? A fresh pain gripped her as she imagined them being together in the boathouse, where she and James had made love in such frenzied passion. I'll never go there with him again, she thought fiercely. But there was no doubt in her mind that she would go with him again; she loved him and no ten-year- old affair was going to change that, even if it was so close to home. James had begged her to trust him and she intended to do so. She hadn't given herself to him lightly and she wasn't going to let it end because of this.
She sighed, realising that she would have to leave the hotel; she couldn't carry on working for Gerald and Carol in the circumstances. Lifting the dirty saucepans, she put them in the sink and began to fill them with water, but the girl they'd hired to help came in with a stack of dirty plates and volunteered to take over, so Romily left her to it.
She went to look for James but couldn't find him in the dining-room or either of the other rooms. A sudden fear that he and Gerald might be having a fight made her hurry outside. The driveway was full of cars and she turned to run round to the terrace, but Carol's voice behind her made her stop short.
'Romily, I want to talk to you,' Carol commanded.
'I've got to find James and Gerald. They might be having a fight or something.'
'Nonsense! I don't know where James is, but Gerald has gone down to the cellar to
get some more wine.' Coming up to her, Carol said angrily, 'Why didn't you tell us you'd invited James tonight? It was a terrible shock seeing him walk in like that!'
'Well, I wasn't to know it was going to be a shock. And anyway, I didn't know he was coming myself.'
'You mean—you didn't invite him?' Carol asked in astonishment.
'Well, yes, I did, but then I told him not to.'
'I don't understand you, Romily,' Carol exclaimed impatiently. 'Did you invite him or not?'
'Yes. But then Gerald warned me off him and I realised James wouldn't be welcome, so I wrote him a letter telling him not to come. But he came anyway.'
'Did he?' Carol's voice had changed subtly, but then it hardened again as she said, 'And just how far has it gone between you two? I take it he's the man you've been seeing in Inverness?'
'Yes,' Romily admitted.
'I see. And I suppose you've been to bed with him?' Carol laughed harshly. 'Going to bed with men means nothing to girls like you nowadays—or to him either.'
'On the contrary.' James's voice came out of the darkness and he walked towards them from the terrace. Putting an arm round Romily's shoulders, he said, 'Romily doesn't sleep around, and I,' he paused deliberately, 'I am far more fastidious than I used to be.'
Carol drew her breath in with a hiss, but then said, 'I'd like to talk to James alone, if you don't mind. We have—things to discuss.'
Before she could speak, James's hand tightened on Romily's shoulder and he said brusquely, 'No, we don't. We had nothing to discuss when it finished and there's nothing now. And don't you think you ought to be getting back inside? I'm sure Gerald will soon miss you even if your guests don't.'
Sally Wentworth - Tiger in His Lair Page 11