To Catch A Unicorn

by Sara Seale

  Nicky, delighted by such unaccountable behaviour in the sterner of his uncles, jigged up and down on his shoulders, and although, when they were met at the gates by the dogs which Peregrine had evidently failed to shut up, he clutched Dominic tightly round the neck and sat very still, he did not scream, or even whimper.

  "That's the way," said his uncle cheerfully. "Brave as a lion, you must be, Dominic Trevayne, as I've always thought —did you know we had the same name? Tell you what, Nicky—we'll find you a puppy of your own, nice and small and fluffy. Would you like that?"

  "I might ..." the boy replied doubtfully, but he was clearly impressed by being told he was as brave, as a lion, for he said more firmly: "Would it be my very own?

  "Your very own, and no one shall look after it but you," Dominic said, setting him down at the open front door.

  "Cleo wouldn't let me take it home," Nicky said, tentatively patting old Rowley, who shuffled across the hall to greet them, too stiff and blind now to exercise with the lurchers.

  "Well, you won't be going away for a long time," Dominic said briskly as they went into the hall. Cleo, who had clearly been hanging about, waiting for them, linked an arm through his and said with a warm little sigh of relief:

  "How nice!" Penzion seems to be home to us, now, and London's not a good place for children, is it? And of course Nicky can keep his puppy while we're here. Dom, I'm so bitterly sorry I didn't stop that lunacy of Perry's on the cliffs.

  I really did think shock tactics were the best cure. We're such a tough, roughneck family, aren't we? I didn't want Troy's son to let you down. Will you forgive my stupidity and take Nicky over on your own terms?"

  She must, thought Laura, hovering awkwardly in the background, have rehearsed that little speech while she waited, for it came out so smoothly. Dominic, whatever his private thoughts, regarded her with an alert eye and said:

  "What terms, Cleo?"

  "Well, that's for you to say, isn't it?" she replied with a little laugh. "But you've clearly made a conquest, haven't you? My obstinate child has evidently at last seen the light, and appreciates his Uncle Dom for what he is, don't you, Nicky?"

  "He's my unimecorn," Nicky replied, tugging possessively at his uncle's coat-tails.

  "You see?" said Cleo. "However misplaced Perry's intentions were, they've at least done you a good turn."

  "Have they?" Dominic said with a certain dry amusement. "Oh, well, Perry can win himself back into most people's good graces, if he tries. I'll most likely be back in the doghouse again tomorrow. Let's go and have a drink—Laura certainly needs one."

  "Laura?" Cleo sounded surprised as if she had not even been aware of her cousin's presence, but she disengaged herself from Dominic and said remorsefully:

  "Darling, I'd quite forgotten you. We must have given you a nasty turn with all that silly horseplay. I was forgetting you aren't yet used to the family's rather primitive ways. Come along and have that drink."

  "No, thanks. I'd rather go up and have a wash," Laura said, and Dominic turned to look at her.

  "Are you feeling all right, Laura?" he asked quicky. "I think you should have that drink, you know."

  "I'm quite all right. I simply want to get clean and tidy before lunch," she said a little desperately, and Cleo, looking relieved that she could be sure of the next quarter of an hour or so to herself, said carelessly:

  "Just as you like, darling, but if you're going upstairs you might as well take Nicky with you and dump him in the nursery till lunchtime."

  "I don't think," Dominic said, beginning to make a move towards the tea-room, "Laura will want to be bothered with Nicky just now—he's earned a drink, anyway. Come along with us, old chap, and we'll find you some ginger pop."

  He followed Cleo into the tea-room and Laura felt the tears sting her eyelids. He could not have intimated more plainly that he wished to be alone with Cleo.

  Down in the day-room Dominic and Cleo ate their lunch in the customary hurried silence, broken only by the intermittent remarks of necessity, such as requests for salt and pepper, and a vague comment on the weather. Peregrine, Cleo said, hoping to start a profitable line of conversation, had taken himself off racing, and would probably end up in the pubs, but Dominic merely raised his eyebrows and enquired why she hadn't gone with him. Cleo, who had resisted the temptation in the hope of better rewards, felt reasonably annoyed, but, remembering that mealtimes had never been favourable for the broaching of serious topics, she wisely held her tongue.

  When they had finished, however, and he showed signs of going out of doors again, she said boldly:

  "Don't you think it's time, Dom, that we had a serious talk and came down to brass tacks? We've been here over six weeks and we can't stay on indefinitely—at any rate, Laura can't."

  For a moment he hesitated, then he gave a little shrug.

  "Yes, perhaps it is, in view of this morning's rather unpleasant incident," he said. "Come into the book-room."

  It didn't sound a very promising opening, and she said as she settled herself in a chair by the fire which, despite the warm weather, was still lighted every day:

  "You remind me of a schoolmarm, darling. The only time you invite anyone into your holy of holies it's usually for a wigging."

  He sat himself down behind his desk and smiled as she

  made a face at him.

  "Force of habit," he said. "I work at this desk so it's natural to sit here. As for wiggings, someone must have been spinning you yarns. Perry's the only one I've ever found it necessary to blast, and that can happen anywhere."

  "And Laura?"

  "Laura? I've never had occasion to haul her over the coals —what on earth do you mean?"

  She was quick to hear the unguarded note in his voice and said with a little shrug:

  "Just an impression I get; I'm probably wrong, but you do scare her, you know. Mind you, some young girls, if their heads are still full of adolescent nonsense, rather enjoy being scared—providing it's followed up, of course, with a little soothing necking as consolation. Quite a common form of dalliance in both the sexes, I believe. Why are you looking at me like that, Dom? Is it your particular brand of necking?"

  "No, it is not, and I find it hard to believe that you get that sort of impression from your cousin," he said, looking a little white, and she shrugged again, this time with a graceful Little suggestion of apology.

  "Oh, well, perhaps I got it wrong," she said. "I wouldn't blame you for making a pass or two, darling, if Laura's type is to your liking, but she wouldn't understand.. The poor sweet's terribly single-hearted where her affections are con-concerned, and they are rather fixed on Perry at the moment, as I told you. But let's forget about Laura and talk about Nicky. Have you any plans for him, or am I relying too much on your generosity?"

  "Yes. I have plans," he said briskly. "I'd intended waiting a little longer before putting anything concrete before you, as I wanted to be sure the course of action I propose would be right for us both. You've shown me, however, that you take an adult view over most things in life, and aren't plagued by sentiment like many women, so I'll concede there's little more to be gained by further delay."

  "Go on," she said a little breathlessly. "This course of action—if it's right for you, Dom, then it's right for me."

  "I wonder. I wonder if my assessment of you is correct," he said, and she narrowed her eyes at him in open invitation.

  "I'm sure it is—haven't you always prided yourself on your judgement? Even Perry admits you're very seldom wrong. Try me and see, darling—I think I know what you're going to say, anyway."

  "Do you, Cleo? Well, that certainly makes things easier for both of us, though I hadn't listed you as a mind-reader in addition to your other abilities and charms."

  "Well, Laura gave me the right clue," she said. "You wanted Nicky."

  "Oh, I see. Yes, Cleo, I'd like to have the boy here under my own supervision. I want to give him a good start in life quite apart from any financial security.
He has, you see, his father's blood to contend with when he's older, and Troy— forgive me—was not very stable."

  "He has my blood, too," she countered quickly, and he smiled.

  "But you, my very glamorous sister-in-law, would be the first to admit, I'm sure, that you're not at all fitted to bring up a headstrong boy."

  "Not alone," she said. "I've never pretended to be a good mother, I just haven't got a clue—but with a man beside me strong enough to take a father's place and keep us both in order, it might be another story."

  He reached for his pipe and began to fill it from the tobacco jar at his elbow.

  "I agree, but that's a little chancy, isn't it?" he said. "You must, and will, undoubtedly marry again, my dear, but a child, I know, can be a handicap to remarriage these days when the average decent young chap one's likely to meet isn't over-blessed with this world's goods. If I took Nicky off your hands, you would be completely free."

  "What on earth are you getting at?" she asked, and at the change in her voice he looked across at her, frowning.

  "But I thought you understood," he said. "I'm proposing, if you are willing, to provide entirely for the boy, so long as he can be brought up here, with the appropriate schooling, of

  course, when the time comes. I don't suggest adoption unless you wish it, as I'd want you to feel free to see him at any time and keep in touch with all of us. If you marry, as of course you will, you can have him to stay if you want, but you can feel yourself free of all responsibility, both financial and moral. What's the matter, Cleo? I thought you'd jump at the offer—you never wanted the child, did you?"

  "And did Laura tell you that one—among other charming little tittle-tattles, I don't doubt?" she spat at him, and he looked at her gravely.

  "Laura has nothing to do with this, and we'll leave her out of this discussion, if you please," he said. "I'm well aware of your physical attractions, Cleo, but I'm aware, too, that your failings, unfortunately, are almost identical with Troy's, and that's not a good heritage for Nicky."

  There was a long silence between them and he watched her curiously, assessing the changing conflicts revealed in her face; bitter chagrin, greed, temper, and finally spite. She looked in that moment, he thought, very like Troy had looked when crossed, as Nicky was beginning to look already.

  "It's Laura, isn't it?" she said with a hard little laugh. "My sly little cousin's made good use of her time here, and you've been caught, haven't you?"

  "I don't think I understand you, Cleo," he said patiently.

  "I think you do," she snapped. "Perry was right when he said you were the protective type. You've fallen for Laura's milk-and-water charms, haven't you? The predatory overlord condescending to the humble admirer—but it's Perry who's the favoured one, don't forget; it's Perry your ewe lamb would like to bed down with, and probably has, for all I know."

  He brought his fist crashing down on the desk with a suddenness that startled her, and some of the spleen began to seep out of her as she met his furious eyes.

  "When you've quite done with this very distasteful display of vulgarity, Cleo, we'll try to talk business, for I fancy it's the only subject on which you and I are likely to agree," he said. "What inducement do you want to give up the boy?"

  She began to fidget, torn between a desire to hit out at him further, and an instinct to cash in on what remained to her.

  "Why should I give up my own child to satisfy Trevayne pride in the future?" she said, controlling her voice to a semblance of its old husky drawl. "Besides, it shouldn't be necessary. I'd thought—evidently mistakenly—that you and I between us could have handled that little problem very neatly."

  "Yes?" he said, and waited.

  "You devil, Dom! You must know quite well what's been in my mind! Am I so unattractive to you, or am I not good enough for the head of the house of Trevayne?" she said.

  His eyes softened momentarily to a faint touch of pity, not for the hurt and sense of rejection another woman might have felt, but for the humiliation that might torment her later, and when he answered, his voice was more gentle.

  "Cleo, let's not go into personalities which can only prove painful to us both," he said. "If I've misled you in any way, I must beg your pardon, but whatever brash notion you may have had of killing two birds with one stone, it wouldn't have worked, you know."

  "Why? I speak your language, don't I?"

  "You speak Trevayne language, as I told you once before. It's not necessarily the same as mine. Now, if you'd like to sit down again, we'll discuss this thing on a purely commercial basis. In addition to my original proposals, I'm prepared to make you a generous allowance, since I understand most of your parents' money went in keeping you and Troy. I'm not ungrateful for your loyalty to Troy, and you can name your own sum within reason."

  She did not sit down, but leant against the desk, mistress of herself again, and smilingly casual.

  "Oh, no," she said. "I have my terms, too. I want marriage."

  He got up himself, and idly rearranged some papers on the desk, intimating that he wished the interview over.

  "You wouldn't, I assure you, Cleo, care about being

  married to me," he said with infuriating composure. "You force me to speak plainly, but—I wouldn't take at all kindly to being cuckold in my own house, and that's what you had in mind, wasn't it?"

  She slapped him hard across the cheek, and had the momentary satisfaction of seeing the scar stand out in angry relief against his skin before he leaned across the desk and caught her wrists and held them, as he had done that night at supper.

  "You'll do that once too often, my dear," he rapped out at her, and there was at last a hint of breaking control in his voice. "You're more naive than I thought you, Cleo, if you imagined I was unaware that you and Perry were having an affair. It was no concern of mine, since you're both adult and well-matched in that respect, but it scarcely commended you to me as a possible wife. Now, go away and think things over quietly. When you have your sense of proportion back, let me know and we'll talk again."

  He let her go and she stood rubbing her bruised wrists, and looking a little frightened.

  "Very well, Dom," she said at last. "I'll do just that, but don't think I can be bought off so easily. Don't forget, either, that whatever favours I've had from Perry, Laura has shared them ... It must feel like old times with Perry charming your girl away, just as Troy did ... You would seem, my dear brother-in-law, to be one of these unfortunate characters who are doomed to be passed over. Tomorrow, I don't mind betting, Perry will have won back Nicky again." It was, she congratulated herself, a good exit line, and judging by Dominic's expression, one that went home. She turned her back on him, carelessly flicked the neat pile of papers on to the floor, and sauntered out of the room.

  Laura found her later crying hysterically on her bed and throwing any object within reach across the room. These crying bouts, once so alarming, no longer frightened Laura, who had found that, providing one did not make the mistake of proffering comfort in the normal way, the fit would wear itself out and Cleo emerge very much refreshed by her loss of

  control. So she stood now, waiting and saying nothing, wondering what Dominic could have said to upset her.

  "Was—was Dominic hard on you—about Nicky, I mean?" Laura asked, feeling the moment had arrived for tactful sympathy, but the venomous look her cousin suddenly bestowed on her gave her the sensation of being slapped.

  "Hard on me!" she exclaimed. "What do you think I am —an awed schoolgirl to be reduced to tears by a few cross words from the beloved! Is that the effect he has on you, sly, simple Laura? Because he is the beloved, isn't he? I was watching your face up there on the cliffs, and you gave yourself away."

  Laura's mouth quivered, but she replied with dignity.

  "What I may or may not feel for Dominic is my own affair and need embarrass nobody."

  "Well, you've embarrassed Dom, my ostrich-like child. He couldn't fail to see, any more than I could, the s
ickly symptoms bursting out all over you. He feels you must have mistaken ordinary civility for encouragement, and asked me to drop you a hint, as a matter of fact."

  "Is that," enquired Laura with admirable self-possession, "what you were crying about?" But although she had the rather hollow satisfaction of seeing the chagrin in her cousin's face, there was a cold, heavy lump in her heart. Had she not thought that Dominic himself had been trying to warn her up there on the headland?

  "No, it's not," snapped Cleo, answering the question with acute dislike in her voice. "I happen to have a splitting headache and feel rather sick."

  "Bilious, I shouldn't wonder. Too many chocolates," said Laura, and Cleo threw a pillow at her.

  "You seem very full of yourself of late," she said wasp-ishly. "Don't let wishful thinking about Dom's non-existent intentions turn your head completely, darling. He has quite other ideas, I assure you. Incidentally, he thinks it's time you went home."

  "Did he say so?"

  "Not in so many words, but the inference was obvious. He's

  naturally sorry you've rather lost your heart, and thinks it would be better if you went away."

  "I see. And what about you? Have you settled Nicky's affairs?"

  "Oh, yes, that little problem is working out very nicely. We shall be stopping on, of course."

  "I see," said Laura again, and Cleo smiled like a cat full of cream.

  "I'm sure you do, darling. Well—have a little think about it and make your plans. You'll find Dom will be quite generous when you do go."

  "What on earth do you mean?"

  "Well, you evidently went bleating to him that I didn't pay you for looking after Nicky, which wasn't very nice of you, was it?"

  For an instant Laura was bewildered. That morning when Dominic had casually questioned her regarding that misleading designation of her position among them seemed so long ago that she had forgotten.

  "Oh, don't be silly," she said as recollection came back. "I explained that you and I had never been on those sort of terms, and I thought he understood."