Promises to Keep

by Maura McGiveny

  He drew in his breath sharply and something flickered in his eyes, then they moved slowly and consideringly over her flushed face. 'Having a nightmare, old girl?' Paul queried with a chilling little curl to his lips.

  'Oh!' She turned her head away, trying to get her bearings, nervously wiping at the surprising tears that had matted her lashes together. She should have known it wasn't Logan. He wasn't speaking to her any more. 'I—I must have dozed off.'

  'That must have been some dream, the way you were twisting and moaning!'

  She blushed a vivid red. 'I don't remember.'

  'It was about Logan, wasn't it?' he insisted. 'Even after last night you still love him!'

  Kathryn hunched her shoulders and shifted uncomfortably. He was leaning over her, resting his hands on either side of her head, his face close to hers, and she felt trapped. The sun had gone down and now the breeze was decidedly chilly.

  'Tell me,' he said cruelly.

  'Please, Paul—'

  'He's got it all, hasn't he? How can you still love him after last night?' His mouth twisted as he straightened. 'Have you no pride? Let him go. It's Margaret he really wants.'

  Kathryn blinked rapidly, wondering how much of this was a dream and how much reality. 'No, that's not true.'

  'He loves her, has done since she started working for him. He realised what a mistake it was to marry you, but he doesn't know how to get out of it.'

  'I don't believe you,' she choked. 'Logan wouldn't say such things to you.'

  'You'd be surprised what he tells me. In all those years he spent searching for you, he built up an image of you in his mind, but now he knows he was wrong. You're not the woman he thought you were. Let him go, Kathryn. Don't wait for him to ask you to leave.'

  She became very still, searching his open face. It had been a mistake. She had failed Logan. She wasn't the woman she had been five years ago. Maybe it was only his stubbornness and affronted pride that made him keep searching for her and finally marry her. The hand she dragged across her eyes was cold and clammy, jerking in a frightened gesture. All these thoughts had been resolutely pushed to the back of her mind ever since she had come here. She couldn't take them out now for Paul to see. She looked past him to the empty lawn. 'Where's Jon?' she asked.

  'Jon?' he exploded. 'Is that all you have to say? Where's Jon?' His face became a mottled red. 'You're a fool, do you know that! A fool!'

  She stared at him for a long minute then with a sudden flare of suspicion said very quietly: 'Where is he, Paul?'

  His lips twisted. 'Emma called him for supper.'

  'Already?' She shook her head in a daze. 'What time is it?'

  He glanced at his gold watch, then lifted his shoulders. 'Almost seven-thirty.'

  Gathering herself together with difficulty, she got up from the lounger and smoothed her tangled hair, trying not to look as dishevelled as she felt. 'I don't know how I could have slept so long,' she muttered. 'Is Logan home yet?'

  'Er—' Paul pretended to be embarrassed, 'Margaret phoned a little while ago. He's been— detained. Personally I think he just can't face you after last night. There was this strange music in the background—'

  'Oh!' With a little sob, Kathryn broke away from him and ran to the house. She had to get away from him. He was making her see things she wasn't ready to face yet.

  Firmly shutting her bedroom door, she sank down on her bed with a small choking cry. Her head was throbbing painfully and her confused emotions coupled with that persistent feeling of apprehension made her physically sick. She had to laugh because she was afraid if she let herself cry she'd never stop. She never should have let herself doze off like that. The nightmare she had had was bad enough, but now real life was beginning to take on the same stark qualities. Everything was falling down around her ears, and there was no way to stop it.

  She gave a groan and forced herself to get up and run a hot bath, a normal thing to bring back normalcy to her life. After she thought about it, she knew Paul was wrong. Logan didn't love Margaret. He loved her. He had said so a number of times. Last night was simply a—lapse—on his part. He had been a man driven to the edge of his control. She couldn't blame him for that. And those were her children she had seen with him on the lawn. They had dark hair, didn't they? Not blonde. Paul wasn't going to stop her from being a part of that family. She'd take a long hot soak and dress in her finest dress and wait for her husband. No matter how long it took, she would wait, and they would talk things out and start to rebuild their relationship.

  When her bath had filled, she crossed the hall to say goodnight to Jon and apologise for not being in sooner.

  He was lying on top of his blankets in just his underwear, and she frowned at him. 'It's too hot for pyjamas,' he said quickly before she could say anything. Then he turned his back to her. 'Goodnight, Mom.' His tone was brusque and he didn't kiss her as he usually did.

  That vague apprehension curled down Kathryn's spine again, flaring into the full-scale knowledge that something was definitely wrong. 'Is everything all right, darling?' she asked, gently rubbing his shoulder.

  He shrugged her hand away. 'Yes, Mom. Goodnight.'

  'Jon—'

  But he clearly didn't want to listen. He hunched his shoulders and burrowed his face further into his pillow.

  Feeling rebuffed, Kathryn stood and watched him for a long minute, then quietly turned away with pain in her eyes.

  Back in the bathroom she mulled it over. That wasn't at all like him. Something had to be wrong. Or was it only her own heightened emotions making mountains out of molehills? Jon was entitled to his own irritable moods once in a while too. Heaven knew there were enough undercurrents running through this house for the past several weeks to make anyone uncomfortable!

  Stepping out of the bath, she wound a thick white towel around herself and then loosened the pins holding her. hair and brushed it vigorously. She took her time choosing what to wear, pulling out dress after dress and discarding them one after another. Then she found it—a rich shimmering knee-length gown of cream-coloured satin, it had a daring halter neck. She let it drift over her head, then smoothed the clinging circular skirt and turned to look at herself in the mirror.

  It was elegant and sophisticated, and with her hair loose and flowing in a midnight cloud to the middle of her bare back, there was no doubt she was all woman. She had never worn anything like this before, never displayed her body so daringly. The thrusting curves of her breasts were boldly hinted at without actually exposing them, but the dress left little to the imagination, clinging as it did to her curving waist and hips and thighs. For just a moment she thought it might be too provocative, too sensuous, but then she told herself this was what was needed tonight if she was to compete with Margaret. Besides, Logan had chosen this dress for her. She clung to that fact, and her face softened when she thought of him going to all this trouble for her. She had never thanked him properly—but that would be taken care of tonight. Everything would be out in the open. So many things would be put right. Paul was leaving soon and they would have the chance to start over.

  Driven by restlessness, she stepped to the long windows and stood looking out to the lawn below, trying to remain calm. Everything was quiet now except for the low murmuring of tree frogs and crickets. A soft warm breeze was blowing from the distant mountains, bringing with it a melancholy sound as it whispered through the dark green pines in the forest. Her face lifted in that direction now and a thin shiver ran down her spine. There was no good reason for this uneasiness, but she couldn't shake it off.

  Her evening meal was a solitary one. Emma had told her Paul and the rest of his friends had gone into town to finalise the arrangements for their Australian tour. Kathryn sat alone in the vast dining room under the soft light of a crystal chandelier. A maid came in and served the meal in silence, then just as silently withdrew. Kathryn looked down the length of the table, fingering the lace cloth and heavy silver and crystal and china, and felt apprehensive and sligh
tly lost. Would she ever learn to take this for granted the way Logan did?

  By the time she had finished picking at her food, she was almost numb with tension, wondering how she was going to begin to tell Logan all the things that needed to be said. Her eyes kept darting nervously to the door and every footfall made her think he had finally come home.

  'Is the meal that bad, Kathryn?' Emma asked quietly, coming to clear the dishes. 'You've mangled that roll until I have to wonder why you bothered to take it in the first place.'

  Kathryn looked at the shredded pile of bread on her plate and flushed guiltily. 'I'm sorry, Emma, I don't know what's the matter with me. I—' She lifted her shoulders helplessly. 'Have you heard from Logan?'

  Emma shook her head. 'Sorry, love. Would you like some more coffee? Maybe that'll settle you.' Her face softened with sympathy. 'It takes a little getting used to, doesn't it? Being on your own again, I mean. Those men certainly do demand attention. I for one will be glad when they've gone.'

  'I was always a solitary person, so it's not really a hardship. I like being alone,' Kathryn said quietly, knowing it might have been true once but not any longer. Jon had wound his way around her heart, Logan too, and now she missed them both. 'Er—no coffee, thanks.' Nervously preoccupied, she pushed her still half full cup away. 'I think I'll just go and check on Jon again. He complained about being too warm earlier.'

  'I hope he's not coming down with something,' Emma frowned. 'I thought he was acting a little strange at supper. He wanted to wake you, but Paul said you probably needed the rest because you didn't sleep too well last night. That seemed to upset him.'

  'Oh, I wish he had,' said Kathryn. 'I feel guilty for not putting him to bed myself.' She shot a painful smile at her and quickly left the room. That apprehension was stronger now, running up and down her spine with a sudden urgency.

  At the bottom of the stairway she paused and took herself to task. It was ridiculous to jump to conclusions. She was working herself up for nothing. If she went up there she might only be disturbing Jon unnecessarily. But all at once she had the strongest feeling that Jon needed her, and running her sweating hands nervously down the sides of her dress, she hurried to his room.

  Everything was dark and still as she pushed open his door. It took a minute to adjust her eyes to the gloom—then her heart began to pound in thick heavy strokes when she saw his bed was empty.

  A thousand things ran through her mind: He'd run away. Paul had taken him. Logan would blame her. Jon was hurt, lost, even now he might be calling for her…

  Her heart rose in her throat and stuck there. She stood alone in the darkness, totally bereft, the taste of blood in her mouth.

  CHAPTER NINE

  After a minute her frantic terror began to subside. Jon couldn't have gone far. There wasn't time, for one thing. He probably was just in the bathroom and she was wildly jumping to conclusions.

  Forcing all her misgivings to the back of her mind, she went looking for him, calling his name in a clear steady voice. He wasn't in the bathroom—or in any of the bedrooms on the second floor. She methodically searched every one and panic was beginning to set in again when she reached the kitchen and found Emma and Mr Higgins, Paul's valet, relaxing over a cup of tea.

  'Have you seen Jon?' she asked, trying not to sound hysterical.

  Emma looked astounded, then concerned. 'He's not in his bed?'

  'No, and I've searched all the other bedrooms. He's not anywhere!'

  The always correct Mr Higgins got to his feet and hurriedly slipped on his dark jacket, deeply conscious of having been caught enjoying himself. He was a tall man with a mass of grey hair and deep laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. 'Now, now, Mrs Ramsey, you know what young boys are. He's probably just playing a joke on you. When did you last see him?'

  Kathryn bit her lip and took a deep calming breath. 'About an hour and a half ago.' Her voice wobbled. 'He didn't have his pyjamas on and when I started to ask him about it, he cut me off saying it was too warm. Something's wrong—I just know it!'

  'Hmmm.' He remained unruffled and stepped to the screen door, peering out at the blackness. 'It is a warm night. He simply might have gone out for some air.' Quietly pushing open the door, he stepped outside.

  Kathryn hesitated, hating to voice her suspicions, but they came out anyway. 'Paul,' she said with low uncertainty. Her face was strained and she put a clenched hand to her mouth feeling a suffocating wave of fear rushing over her. 'You don't think he—took him, do you, Emma?'

  'Took him? Took Jon?' Emma gasped, but almost at once recovered herself. 'No, Kathryn. I know what you're thinking. I know the jealousy between the two boys and the talk about who's really Jon's father, but I'm sure Paul had already gone out with his friends before you last talked to Jon.'

  Mr Higgins came back then. 'Can't see a thing,' he said with a shake of his head, 'but I know someone with a much keener sense of sight and smell,' He walked over to the small cage where Drago had been penned for the night.

  'Of course!' Emma smiled with relief. 'He follows Jon everywhere. He'll know in a minute where he's gone.'

  The minute his cage was opened he bounded to the door, whimpering excitedly, scratching to be let outside.

  'Do you have a torch, Emma?' Mr Higgins asked.

  She rummaged through a drawer at the sink and found a flashlight and handed it to him.

  He looked at Kathryn. 'All right, Mrs Ramsey, open the door. I'll keep this trained on him and we'll see where he goes.'

  They all watched as Drago made a beeline straight for the woods.

  'No!' Kathryn gasped. 'Jon can't have gone there! We don't allow it in the daytime. It's so dark now, he'll be lost for sure!'

  'Shall I ring Logan?' Emma touched her arm lightly. 'If anyone knows those woods like the back of his hand, it's Logan.'

  'No!' Kathryn breathed deeply, taking the flashlight from Mr Higgins' unresisting grip. 'Don't do that just yet,' she amended apologetically. 'We don't know for sure he's out there and we'd just be upsetting Logan for nothing.' She swallowed past the huge dry lump in her throat and fought for composure. Then all at once a sudden calmness began to seep through her, a certainty, and all her fear left her. A slow simmering anger took its place. Jon was out there, all right, and somehow Paul was behind it. That was why he went into town tonight instead of letting the others make all the arrangements themselves. She couldn't say anything yet because Mr Higgins owed Paul his loyalty and Emma did too, to a certain extent. This was something she would have to do by herself. She would find Jon first and bring him back, then she would have it out with Paul.

  'I'll see if I can follow Drago,' she said. 'In the meantime, will you search the rest of the house? Just in case?'

  'Oh, Kathryn, it might not be safe out there.' Emma started to protest, but when she saw the stubborn set of her jaw she took a different tack. 'At least let Thomas go with you.'

  Mr Higgins was standing there stiffly and she could almost hear his heels click together. 'Of course, Mrs Ramsey. You really shouldn't go alone.' He didn't look as if he'd relish the job, but he was ready to do his duty.

  'No, it's all right,' she said calmly. 'Someone needs to be here in case he comes back before I do. If you'll just search the cellars—maybe the attic…'

  He nodded, trying not to look relieved. 'If you're quite sure.'

  She gave him a small strained smile, then swung around abruptly and pushed open the door.

  The moon was full and she had no difficulty picking her way across the lawn. The forest loomed closer with the suffocating blackness of a shroud and she almost lost her nerve. Her legs turned to water and her breathing came fast and laboured. How could Jon have come out here? Maybe more importantly, why? Switching on the flashlight, she swung the beam through the trees, listening intently for the least little sound. 'Jon!' she shouted. 'Can you hear me?' Her heart banged against her ribs at the answering silence. 'Jon!'

  Thinking only of him, she plunged into the wood, look
ing back over her shoulder to get her bearings and make sure she didn't lose sight of the house and get lost herself. Peering again into the blackness ahead of her, she walked straight into a tree and staggered to her knees. Her hair caught on a low hanging branch and sharp spiky limbs stabbed against her face and uncovered arms, making them sting, but she wouldn't let herself stop and go back for help. The overpowering scent of pine, thick and rotting, made her long for a breath of clean air, but she had to go on. Her son was in here somewhere. Maybe Drago had already found him and was waiting for her. The darkness was oppressive and she had to fight her imagination as well as the maze of trees blocking her way. Her toe caught on a fallen log and she nearly lost her footing as something scurried away in the darkness. A strangled yelp came from her throat and the light swung crazily in her nerveless fingers. Several birds noisily fluttered their feathers resenting her intrusion into their late night haunt, and an owl hooted eerily. Kathryn gulped. Her jaw trembled and her mouth shook.

  'Jon!' she cried desperately, trying not to be afraid of the stealthy rustlings all around her. In daylight she probably wouldn't even notice them, but the darkness made everything so much more menacing. 'Jon! Please answer me!' Oh God, if he was hurt she'd never forgive herself. It was her fault he was out here. She never should have fallen asleep this afternoon and left him alone with Paul. There was no telling what he might have said to make him come out here like this.

  She thought of the animals that sometimes were seen in the area, deer and elk and bear, and her expanding imagination had them all converging in a circle, ready to pounce on her helpless son, their ferocious grinning jaws wet and gaping and full of sharp pointed teeth. 'Jon!' Her voice was choked with panic and sounded unnaturally high and shrieking as it echoed back to her.

  She knew that with the denseness of the trees the sound of her voice might not carry, but as she stopped to listen for an answer in the ringing silence, she could hear the low gurgling of the stream twisting through the wood. Maybe Jon would be able to hear her after all. But that comforting thought was shortlived. It suddenly brought an added fear. What if he had fallen into the water and drowned?