Sweet Enchantress

by Barbara Cartland

  She knew, with a sudden stab of intensity, that she was being kissed for the first time in her life.

  A man was kissing her.

  Chuck was kissing her.

  And somehow it was quite different from what she had ever expected.

  She felt the warm strength of his lips and suddenly something within herself responded without her conscious volition and without her even thinking of it.

  She felt a strange thrill run through her and she felt as if her whole being was lit as if from a fire.

  Then she was tingling and quivering with wonder and glory such as she never believed the world contained.

  And yet it was all over in a split second.

  Almost, it seemed to her, as he possessed her, he freed her. And yet in that moment she knew Eternity.

  She felt the colour rush to her face, she felt suddenly as if her knees were too weak to hold her.

  And then she heard Chuck give a little laugh. It seemed to her that there was a note of triumph in it.

  “Is that what you wanted?” he asked Victor. “Now can you understand why nobody shall kiss Zaria but me?”

  “I can’t think why nobody wants to kiss me,” Kate wailed. “It doesn’t seem fair that Zaria’s getting all the attention. In fact I won’t stand for it!”

  She rose from her chair and slinked across the room towards Edie.

  “I’m being left out in the cold,” she complained.

  “That’s a new experience for you, honey,” he answered.

  He kissed her cheek and she threw her arms round his neck and hugged him, looking over his shoulder as she did so at Chuck, her eyes half closed, her mouth pouting provocatively.

  “Some people need lessons in kissing,” she announced to the world in general.

  “Eh bien and I am sure that you are quite prepared to give them – at a price,” Madame Bertin snapped.

  Zaria had the impression that Madame Bertin was uneasy. During the little scene that had just passed she had almost been holding her breath, as if she was fearing that a sudden explosion might result from it.

  Now she drank a glass of champagne very quickly and asked for another.

  “Dinner is served, sir.”

  It was Jim’s quiet English voice from the doorway that seemed to restore them all to sanity.

  ‘This can’t really be happening,’ Zaria thought to herself.

  Yet she knew that the feeling of Chuck’s lips on hers was real and the tingling thrill within her body was still there.

  ‘I shall never be the same again,’ she thought as she walked into the Saloon behind Madame Bertin and Kate.

  Chuck was beside her and, as he sat down, he pressed her hand gently as if in reassurance. At his touch she felt herself tingle again.

  But when she glanced at him, he was looking across the table at Kate and answering something she had said to him.

  ‘It’s all a pretence for him,’ Zaria thought and felt some of the glow and radiance die out of her.

  Because everybody had had quite a lot to drink by now, dinner was a most uproarious meal. There was badinage and arguments and quite a battle of wits between Madame Bertin and Kate while the others applauded.

  Only Zaria was silent. She could think of nothing but Chuck.

  He had kissed her!

  She could not help wondering if it was the only kiss that she would have to remember for the whole of her life.

  It was quite obvious that Kate was determined to get Chuck into her clutches. If Victor had been convinced by the display of affection that he had shown towards Zaria, it had merely acted as a spur as far as Kate was concerned.

  She was determined to flirt with Chuck whether he wished it or not. She made what Zaria thought was a dead set at him.

  Unhappily it seemed to amuse and even interest him.

  After dinner Chuck danced with Kate, swinging her round on the tiny patch of parquet floor from which they had rolled back the rugs.

  The lights in the Saloon were low, but not low enough to stop Zaria seeing that Kate’s hand was pressed against the back of Chuck’s neck and that she was nestling close against him, her cheek touching his.

  Zaria felt suddenly that she could not bear to look and could not bear to stay in the same room.

  She turned sharply and would have gone below to her own cabin if Madame Bertin had not put out her hand and beckoned her from the sofa, a drink in her hand.

  “Come and talk to me, ma petite protègé,” she invited. “I was very proud of you tonight. You stunned them, as I knew you would.”

  Zaria looked across the room again at Chuck and suddenly for a moment the dull pain in her heart seemed to lessen. Why should she give in so easily? she asked herself. Why should she let Kate have him?

  ‘I will fight,’ she thought. ‘I will fight for him.’

  Impulsively she turned towards Madame Bertin.

  “Madame, I want to ask you something. I would like to buy a lot of your lovely clothes.”

  She saw Madame Bertin’s eyebrows go up and went on,

  “I can pay, I can promise you that. The only difficulty is that all I have with me at the moment is a cheque that Miss Mansford, the owner of this yacht, gave me before I left London. I think you will find that any bank will cash it, as she is – er – very rich. It is made out to me and – and, of course, I only have to endorse it.

  The words came tumbling out and, even as she said them, they sounded rather strange. Madame Bertin seemed to take them quite seriously.

  “Tiens! So you know the owner of The Enchantress,” she said. “Je comprends, that is how you obtained the job.”

  “Yes, yes, that’s it,” Zaria agreed. “And she owed me for some previous work I had done for her. It’s – it’s quite a lot of money, as it happens. She gave me the cheque and, as I came away in a hurry, I did not have time to cash it. Will that be all right if I – give it to you?”

  “Of course,” Madame Bertin said, “C’est bon! I can give you some very charming clothes. The cheque is on a good bank?”

  “On a very good bank,” Zaria said. “There is certain to be a branch of it in Algiers.”

  “That is excellent,” Madame Bertin approved and then added quickly in a low voice, “Don’t speak of this to the others, vous comprenez? Say nothing. I don’t wish them to know that I take money from you.”

  “No, no, of course not,” Zaria answered.

  “I will choose some gowns for you tonight,” Madame Bertin promised, “et les autres tomorrow morning. We arrive at Algiers about eleven o’clock.”

  She was about to say something else when Chuck came across the Saloon towards them.

  “Aren’t you going to dance with me?” he asked Zaria.

  She was so surprised that for a moment she could only look up at him in astonishment.

  “I am afraid I – don’t dance as – well as Kate,” she managed to stammer at last.

  “Does that matter?” he enquired. “Come and try to this tune, it’s one of my favourites.”

  Half reluctantly Zaria let him lead her towards the small dance floor by the radiogram. Kate, she saw, had turned her back on them and she was sitting on the arm of Edie’s chair pouring him out a drink. Victor was talking to Mr. Virdon.

  She and Chuck seemed to be alone for the moment, unnoticed and forgotten.

  Because of it she ceased to act and became only herself.

  “I don’t dance well enough,” she whispered. “Please, Chuck you need not be polite.”

  “Do you think that’s what I’m being?” he asked.

  He pulled her into his arms as she spoke and started to dance. For a moment she stumbled and then she relaxed.

  There was something in the closeness in which he held her and in the clasp of his hand that told her what he was going to do without her having any knowledge of the steps or indeed of the music.

  She only knew that the closeness of him made her feel a part of him. Because his arm was round her she was in a Heaven
that swept away all the questions and the problems and the difficulties.

  Nothing else mattered.

  She was close to him. She almost felt that she could hear his heart beating – or was it her own?

  ‘If only I could die at this moment,’ she thought suddenly, ‘I should be happy.’

  She had a sudden terror that tomorrow would come too quickly. It would take him away from her and she would never see him again.

  Algiers at eleven o’clock! At least she had until then – at least he was beside her and for the moment she was in his arms.

  “You look wonderful!” he murmured.

  She wanted to cry because she knew that his voice was quite sincere. They moved round and round again in silence and then she said,

  “There is something I must tell you.”

  “Be careful,” he said so softly that she hardly heard the words.

  “I am, but when can I speak to you?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “I will try to find a way.”

  The gramophone record came to an end and as Chuck went to put on another, Kate came shimmering across the room.

  “Victor wants to dance with you, Zaria,” she said.

  “No, I am going to bed,” Zaria said quickly.

  “Une bonne idée,” Madame Bertin remarked from the sofa. “I am going too. Better come to my cabin, Zaria, and let me help you off with that gown. It must not be spoilt, it’s one of my best models.”

  “Goodnight, Chuck!”

  Zaria turned towards him and as she did so she realised that he had not wanted her to go.

  There was a little frown on his forehead as he answered,

  “Good night, Zaria. Sleep well.”

  “Which is more than we shall do,” Kate said. “Come on, Chuck. Let’s make a night of it!”

  Zaria turned away, suddenly sick at heart.

  ‘What’s the use of fighting?’ she thought.

  Kate was so much cleverer than she was. She realised now that it was absurd for her to leave Chuck and Kate together, to get out of the way and to go below where there was no chance of proving her rivalry.

  When they had descended the companionway, Madame Bertin said in what seemed to Zaria almost a stage whisper,

  “The cheque, get it now!”

  Zaria went to her own cabin and took out her cheque book. Very carefully she wrote out a cheque for two hundred pounds to ‘Miss Zaria Brown’ and signed it with her own name.

  Then she opened the door of her cabin and went along to Madame Bertin’s.

  “Here is the cheque,” she said.

  Madame Bertin looked at the cheque, reading the name of the bank and its address carefully.

  “Zaria Mansford!” she said. “She has the same name as you.”

  “I-I was called after her,” Zaria said.

  Madame Bertin accepted the explanation without question. She put the cheque into her bag quickly and with what seemed to Zaria an almost greedy movement.

  “That will pay for some charming gowns,” she said. “Not the most expensive models of course, but the copies and some of the simple dresses that I have brought for the hot weather. They will be a good buy.”

  Zaria thanked her and returned to her cabin.

  She was tired and yet she did not go to bed. Instead she sat in front of the dressing table staring at her reflection, making no attempt to wipe away the make-up that Madame Bertin had put on her face or to take the mascara off her eyelashes.

  She was studying herself perhaps for the first time in her life, trying to see her good points, trying to realise how she could improve and beautify herself – not for her own satisfaction, but for Chuck’s.

  She knew that it was a hopeless dream and that he would never love her.

  Yet she felt that just by being with him she could serve him and perhaps save him. From what she did not know. But she found herself thinking of all the ways in which she could assist him and lighten his troubles.

  He needed money – she could give him some. That was the first thing and perhaps the easiest of the lot.

  But to do so she would have to reveal who she was and she shrank from doing that until the very last moment.

  Yet to help him she would do anything, however deep her embarrassment and however paralysing her shyness.

  She looked at the electric clock on the cabin wall and saw that it was nearly one o’clock. Slowly she undressed, slipped into her nightgown and went to bed.

  It was no use waiting in the hope that she would hear the others coming below.

  They were making a night of it, as Kate said, and nobody wanted her at that sort of party.

  Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and resolutely she fought them away.

  ‘I will not be sorry for myself,’ she thought. ‘Whatever happens, I have met Chuck – whatever the future holds, I love him, and I shall go on loving him all my life.’

  She must have fallen asleep with that thought in her mind, for it seemed to her that the moment of sleeping and her dreams intermingled to leave her quite unsurprised when she opened her eyes and found Chuck sitting on her bed.

  He put out a finger to lay it on her lips so that she should not make a sound.

  She only stared at him drowsily.

  “We have got to be very very quiet,” he whispered, “in case the others hear us. This was the only way I could see you alone.”

  With an effort she made herself remember what she had wanted to tell him.

  “Listen,” she began and he bent his head until her lips were almost against his ear.

  She told him quickly what she had heard while she was supposed to be asleep in Madame Bertin’s cabin. She felt that it did not surprise him, and when finally he raised his head and looked down into her eyes, she saw that he was smiling.

  “You are not to worry yourself,” he said. “Just leave everything to me.”

  “But I do worry,” she replied. “Supposing – supposing they do something to you?”

  She paused a moment and then added,

  “Perhaps it would be best, the moment we arrive in Algiers, if you slip away to find your mother.”

  It was the greatest sacrifice she could make and yet, because she loved him, she made it. She was offering him a way of escape, a way out. She was suggesting that he should go away and leave her, at whatever cost to herself.

  “Leave everything to me,” he answered. “You are not to think about it. Just behave quite ordinarily, just be ready to act as secretary to Mr. Virdon.”

  “What about you?” she asked.

  “I can look after myself,” he said.

  “I don’t – understand,” she sighed.

  “Does it matter?” he answered. “We are together, two of us against the rest. Isn’t it that which is important?”

  She knew it was and she knew that he was right. Nothing else was of any consequence save the fact that they were together and that they could face things side by side.

  “I am afraid of losing you.”

  She would never have dared to say it in the daytime. Because she was drowsy, because it seemed so unreal to have him sitting there beside her on the bed, she said the words.

  In answer he put his hand against her cheek.

  “You poor little thing,” he said. “It’s all very bewildering, isn’t it? And rather frightening too. Now I am going to leave you. All I want you to do is to go to sleep and not worry. Goodnight, Zaria.”

  He tucked her in as if she was a baby and then bent suddenly and laid his lips on her forehead.

  She wanted to say something, but he was too quick – he had gone from the cabin and the door had closed silently behind him before the words would come.

  She listened to hear him go down the passage, but she heard nothing.

  And then she realised that she was holding her breath.

  He had kissed her! He had kissed her again and this time of his own free will.

  Granted that it was only the friendly consoling kiss
of a brother, but at least she had felt the touch of his lips again, at least she could believe that he was sincere in the friendship that he had promised her.

  “Oh, God! Thank you! Thank you!” she said aloud in the darkness and felt the tears come into her eyes and this time start to roll softly down her cheeks.

  They were tears of happiness – a happiness such as she had never known before.

  The happiness of believing that Chuck, whom she loved, was indeed her friend.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Zaria was awakened by Jim coming into her cabin with her breakfast. He set the tray down on the table beside her bed and pulled back the silk curtains from the portholes.

  The sunshine came flooding in, touching everything in the cabin with fingers of gold.

  “We’re in Port, miss,” he announced. “We reached Algiers at dawn this morning.”

  “But Madame Bertin said that Mr. Morgan told her definitely we would not be here until eleven o’clock,” Zaria protested.

  “I think Mr. Morgan had his reasons for sayin’ such a thing, if you’ll excuse me sayin’ so, miss,” Jim said confidentially. “Well, here we be and I must say it’s good to see the old familiar landmarks.”

  Zaria was thinking of Chuck, wondering what he was doing at the moment.

  “I’ve got something here for you, miss,” Jim said with a smile.

  He disappeared out of the cabin to return a moment later with his arms piled with clothes.

  “Madame Bertin said I was to bring these in to you the moment you woke. There’s another armful yet to come.”

  He set the clothes down on one of the chairs, disappeared and re-appeared again with another pile.

  “Getting quite a trousseau, aren’t you, miss?” Jim smiled.

  For a second his words stabbed her. She was never likely to want a trousseau, she thought, and yet her thoughts were too busy to linger on her aching heart.

  She had other things to think about – for instance, what was going to happen to Chuck now they had arrived in Algiers.

  It did not take her long to bathe and put on one of the pretty thin dresses that Jim had left on the chair. She felt shy in choosing one of the gayest of them and instead picked out one of pale blue linen.