Dark Moonless Night

by Anne Mather

  His nearness was reassuring somehow and for a few moments she closed her eyes again and tried to remember what had happened. What was Gareth doing here? Why was he being so kind to her? What had precipitated this sudden show of concern?

  ‘Caroline!’ He was speaking to her again, and her eyes flickered open. ‘How do you feel?’

  She moved her shoulders. ‘I’m in the station wagon,’ she said confusedly. ‘Why is it all tipped over on one side?’

  Gareth laid a hand against her neck, and she could feel he was trembling. ‘Don’t you remember?’

  And suddenly she did! She remembered that David was missing, that he was lost somewhere in this desolate, rain-washed jungle, and she had been trying to find him.

  ‘David—’ she began, and she saw Gareth’s eyes mirror his relief.

  ‘David’s fine,’ he assured her. ‘He was never missing.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘He went to Luanga with his mother and father.’

  ‘Oh, thank God!’ Caroline struggled into a sitting position as best she could on the sloping seat of the vehicle. Then: ‘But what are you doing here? How did you know where I was?’

  Gareth withdrew his hand from her neck. ‘I’ve been looking for you,’ he muttered shortly. ‘Do you think you can lever yourself across the seat so that I can get you out and into my car? You’re cold and wet, and the sooner I get you back to the bungalow the better.’

  Caroline drew a trembling breath. ‘I’m afraid I had a bit of an accident,’ she offered, attempting a lightness she did not feel. She touched her head again, recognising the blood for what it was. ‘Have I cut my head?’

  ‘It’s not much more than a scratch,’ he replied, backing out of the station wagon and climbing down into the ditch. ‘Head wounds always bleed a lot. It’s almost stopped anyway. You had a pretty hefty bump on the steering wheel. It’s a blessing you didn’t go through the windscreen instead. You could have cut your throat!’

  Caroline tried to smile. ‘That would have saved you the trouble, wouldn’t it, Gareth?’ she attempted tremulously, but he did not seem to find it amusing.

  She struggled after him, grasping the frame of the door to lever herself to the edge of the passenger seat. The door at her side was successfully jammed against the side of the ditch. Gareth waited until he could get both hands to her, and then he lifted her bodily out of the vehicle and carried her up the bank to stand her on her feet on the rough surface of the road. The rain was still coming down in torrents and she swayed as he turned to lock up the vehicle as best he could. Muttering an exclamation, he did what he had to do and then came back to her, the lantern he had used in his hand.

  ‘Couldn’t you have got into my car?’ he demanded harshly, indicating its dim outline at the other side of the road.

  Caroline caught her breath. ‘I—I didn’t think,’ she murmured, shivering.

  Gareth took her elbow and urged her across the road to his own station wagon, flinging open the door and reaching inside. ‘There’s a rug here,’ he said. ‘I suggest you strip off those wet things and put it round you.’

  Caroline looked down at her bedraggled shirt and shorts. ‘I—I—’ she began.

  ‘I’ll look the other way,’ muttered Gareth dryly, and slid across into his own seat.

  Caroline hesitated only a moment before doing as he suggested and stripping off her wet clothes. Then she gathered the folds of the rug around her, and slid carefully into the passenger seat. ‘There—I’ve done it,’ she murmured, beginning to feel the unaccustomed warmth spreading deliciously all over her body.

  Gareth turned from his contemplation of the hedgerow and surveyed her thoughtfully, switching on the interior light to have a better look at her head. He flicked the hair aside with a careless finger, leaning closer to her as he did so, and she looked up at him with wide appealing eyes.

  ‘I—I suppose I have to thank you yet again,’ she breathed huskily. ‘How—how did you know where to find me?’

  ‘I didn’t.’ He drew back uncompromisingly. ‘I was simply one of the search party.’

  ‘Search party?’ she echoed weakly. ‘For—for me?’

  ‘Of course.’ He frowned impatiently. ‘Haven’t you any idea what time it is?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head, looking down at her wrist just emerging from the folds of the rug. ‘My watch has stopped. What time is it?’

  Gareth held his wrist out for her to see and she gasped. ‘Half past eleven! It can’t be!’

  ‘I assure you it is. Just tell me one thing: what were you doing on this road?’

  Caroline frowned now. ‘I thought David had set off to walk to Nyshasa.’

  ‘You think this is the road to Nyshasa?’

  ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘No. You left the main road a couple of miles back. This road leads nowhere. Except to the swamp.’

  ‘The swamp?’ she echoed faintly. ‘What swamp?’

  ‘It doesn’t have a name. It’s what the Africans call black water. God—’ He seemed unable to go on for a moment. ‘Do you realise if you’d continued along this road—’

  He clenched his fists, resting them on the steering wheel. ‘Well—’ he gathered his composure, ‘that’s not important now. What is important is getting you back to the Laceys’ as quickly as possible. You see, there’s someone there waiting to see you.’

  Caroline stared at his profile. ‘Waiting to see me? Who?’

  Gareth gave her a sideways glance. ‘He says he’s your fiancé. Is he?’

  Caroline pressed her fingertips to her lips. ‘Not—Jeremy!’

  ‘Jeremy Brent. That was his name as far as I remember.’

  ‘Dear heaven!’ Caroline couldn’t take it in. ‘But what’s he doing here?’

  Gareth’s eyes were cold and calculating. ‘As I said—he says he’s your fiancé.’

  ‘He’s not!’ The words broke out of her. ‘We—we were engaged, but—but I broke it off.’

  Gareth half turned in his seat towards her. ‘Why?’

  Caroline looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘Do you really want to know?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have asked otherwise.’ Gareth had a pulse working rapidly low on his jawline.

  ‘Well,’ she bent her head, ‘well, because I—found out that you—were divorced.’

  Gareth’s arm was along the back of her seat and his fingers dug tortuously into the leather. ‘Why should that matter to you?’

  Caroline stared at him. ‘You know why!’

  Gareth’s mouth worked savagely. ‘I only know that you threw me over because you wanted to marry some damn accountant with an eye to the main chance. So here’s your opportunity. Why aren’t you taking it? I know enough of London to appreciate what being headmaster of a school like Brent’s means.’

  Caroline gathered the rug more closely about her, although heat was warming her body now from the inside out. ‘If—if you hadn’t married—Sharon, we—we might have been married—’ she whispered.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Within six months I—I had realised my mistake—and I wanted to come back to you. But—but you were already married to Sharon, and several thousand miles out of reach.’

  ‘Do you expect me to believe that?’ Gareth’s face was grim.

  ‘It’s the truth!’ she declared passionately. ‘Like you said, my mother influenced me. I was young, and foolish. It took me a little time to realise how wrong she was. Oh, Gareth, you’ve no idea what it was like for me, thinking of you with another woman—’ Her voice broke and as though the sound penetrated the shell he had built around himself all these years, he reached for her, drawing her determinedly against him, burying his face in the warm softness of her neck.

  ‘Caroline, Caroline, Caroline,’ he groaned, over and over again. ‘Do you want to drive me out of my mind? ’

  His mouth sought and found hers in a wholly satisfying way, his arms sliding beneath the rug to hold her more firmly against him. ‘And wha
t are you trying to say,’ he muttered, against the warm curve of her breast, ‘that you want to marry me now?’

  ‘Are you asking me?’ she breathed, and he nodded, continuing to kiss her.

  ‘Yes, I’m asking you—or telling you—or agreeing to whatever you want,’ he said, rather thickly. ‘I can’t let you go now, no matter what anyone says, and if you do try to leave me again I’ll come after you and—well, I’m sure you know what I mean.’

  Caroline shivered with ecstatic expectation. There was no possible chance of her wanting to leave Gareth ever again. He was her man, the one man she had ever loved, the years had at least proved that.

  But as though her shiver had brought him to his senses, Gareth very reluctantly drew away from her, trapping her hands that would have reached for him again inside the rug and folding it closely about her.

  ‘No,’ he murmured huskily, ‘we’ve got to get back. We’ve got to let everyone know that you’re all right. Personally, I can think of nothing more desirable than remaining here with you, but my personal desires will have to wait—at least for a while,’ he added, his eyes disturbingly sensuous as they rested on her flushed cheeks.

  Then he switched out the light and determinedly started the engine. Caroline gave a deep sigh and turned so that she could see his profile. ‘Tell me,’ she murmured, ‘tell me you love me!’

  ‘I love you!’ he muttered, keeping his hands on the wheel with an obvious effort. ‘Caroline, please! I’m only human, and right now I’d like to—’ He broke off. ‘What about this man Brent? What are you going to tell him?’

  ‘Whatever you like, darling,’ she tantalised. ‘You tell him—tell him you’re going to marry me.’

  Gareth glanced at her. ‘Shall I do that?’

  His words sobered her. Of course she couldn’t let Gareth do it. It was her duty. She would have to tell Jeremy herself.

  ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘I’ll tell him. Poor Jeremy! What a wasted journey!’

  She snuggled closer against Gareth and he looked down at her, naked desire smouldering in his eyes. ‘Caroline, do you know what you’re doing to me?’ he demanded.

  She coloured and moved a little away from him and as she did so, something else occurred to her. ‘David! You said he was with Charles and Elizabeth?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘But—but how? Thomas said he didn’t come back to the house.’

  ‘He didn’t.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘They picked him up at Sandra’s.’

  A cold finger touched Caroline’s stomach. Until this moment she had forgotten Sandra. But how could she have done that? She had said that Gareth had asked her to marry him. That they were engaged! Oh, God, it couldn’t be true. Not now.

  Swallowing, she said: ‘At—at Sandra’s? But—but she said—’

  ‘Yes? What did she say?’

  Caroline shook her head. Oh, no, she thought. Not now. They couldn’t have an argument about Sandra now. ‘Nothing,’ she managed unsteadily. ‘Is—is it much farther?’

  ‘Not far.’ Gareth sounded impatient. ‘Caroline, I know what Sandra said.’

  ‘You—you do?’ Caroline was taut.

  ‘She deliberately omitted to tell you where David was.’

  ‘What?’ Caroline stared at him. ‘But why?’

  Gareth sighed. ‘I imagine it was because we had had words—over you.’

  Caroline bent her head. ‘Was this before or after you asked her to marry you?’

  The car ground to a halt. ‘I asked her to marry me?’ he exclaimed. ‘Who told you I did that?’

  Caroline sighed. ‘She did.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Yesterday, as a matter of fact.’

  ‘Oh, Caroline!’ He pulled her to him urgently. ‘And you believed her? Dear God, what a woman!’

  Caroline couldn’t resist the warm male strength of him. ‘It seemed reasonable,’ she whispered against his chest.

  Gareth nodded. ‘I imagine it would, then.’ He stroked her cheek. ‘Two days—no, three days ago, I told Sandra that you were the woman I had once been in love with—’ He half smiled. ‘Once? God, I never stopped loving you!’ He paused. ‘I told her because—well, because she was beginning to read too much into our relationship, hers and mine, and I had to make it plain that I had no intention of—well, making another disastrous mistake by marrying a woman I didn’t love.’

  ‘Oh, Gareth!’

  ‘I thought she took it quite well. Maybe she thought I’d change my mind, I don’t know. You see, I also told her that so far as you and I were concerned—well, that was long over.’ He smoothed his thumbs against her temples. ‘She must have discovered that we spent the day together at Nyshasa and decided to lie about our relationship in the hope that you’d never find out.’

  Caroline drew back from him. ‘And—and if this hadn’t happened? My accident—oh, and Jeremy coming here—what would you have done? Would you have let me go back to England?’

  Gareth tugged rather impatiently at the hair on the nape of his neck. ‘Oh, God, I don’t know. I doubt it. You must have noticed—I can’t keep away from you no matter how I try.’

  Caroline’s brows drew together. ‘That day at Nicolas’s—and the other occasion you came when—when my arm was swollen—’

  ‘Yes. That was some occasion, wasn’t it?’ Gareth’s mouth was grim suddenly. ‘That was one time when I had no defence against my feelings for you. And when you started taunting me…’ He shook his head. ‘I could have—well—’ He paused, and turned back to the steering wheel. ‘We’d better go. We’ve got plenty of time to talk it all out.’

  ‘Yes.’ Caroline drew the rug closer about her. ‘Did Sandra say why she—why she didn’t tell me where David had gone?’

  ‘She did eventually,’ said Gareth shortly, putting the car into gear. ‘Apparently she wanted to teach you a lesson. She thinks as a nanny for the children, you’re singularly lacking in qualities.’

  ‘Yes, I had gathered that.’

  Caroline sounded taut and Gareth glanced at her again. Then he turned determinedly back to his driving. ‘Caroline, I can’t say everything I want to say now—not by any means. Let’s just go back to the bungalow and talk later.’

  ‘All right.’

  Caroline nodded. She felt unaccountably chilled. In this mood he still had the power to reduce her to an incoherent schoolgirl, and he was deliberately creating a rift between them. Why? Was he already regretting his impulsive behaviour? Had he allowed his physical attraction towards her to outweigh his common sense? She had no way of knowing, but she longed for the formalities to be over and for them to have enough time to find out everything about one another.

  * * *

  Caroline awakened the next morning to find her room filled with light. The sun was already high and she sat up abruptly, wincing as her head reminded her of her accident the night before. But what time was it? She had not expected to sleep at all and now here she was, obviously oversleeping, and no one was coming to wake her.

  She slid determinedly out of bed. There were so many things she had to do, and the realisation that soon she would see Gareth again filled her with excitement. It would be marvellous to be with him, to touch him, to share everything with him and know that he wanted to be with her.

  As she washed in the usual brackish water in her bowl she thought rather reluctantly about Jeremy. She still had him to face. Last night in the upheaval of her return, in Elizabeth’s concern that she should have a shower and go straight to bed, she had not had any opportunity to do more than greet him, and she had sensed his annoyance at this state of affairs.

  Drying her face on the towel, she felt a twinge of anxiety. She hoped Gareth returned this morning as he had said he would. He, too, had had no further opportunity of speaking with her, and after assuring himself that she was in good hands had left almost at once. She had not wanted him to go. She had tried to catch his eye, to intimate to him that of all people he
should not leave her, but he had avoided her gaze and after a casual word with Charles had left for Nyshasa.

  She sighed. The sooner she got dressed and spoke to Jeremy the better. She didn’t honestly understand why he should have taken the trouble to come all this way to see her when she had told him distinctly that they were to be away six weeks. But perhaps a little of her pique at this was due to the fact that his presence had complicated matters.

  She dressed with care in a tunic of apricot linen with side slits that revealed a length of slender tanned leg, and brushed her hair into loose order about her cheeks. Then she left her room and walked to the lounge.

  She heard voices as she went along the passage and when she reached the lounge door she found Charles, Elizabeth, and Jeremy all sitting talking together.

  ‘Caroline!’ Jeremy sprang to his feet as soon as he saw her. ‘Darling! How are you this morning? Oh, I’ve been waiting so impatiently for you to wake up. Do you realise it’s almost half past ten? ’

  Caroline managed a smile. ‘Hello, Jeremy.’ Then she looked at the others. ‘Good morning.’

  Charles and Elizabeth both greeted her warmly, asking how she was, Charles getting to his feet to examine the cut on her head.

  ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ he assured her. ‘You’ll live!’

  Caroline ran tentative fingers over the scar. ‘I think I was very lucky. Where are the children?’

  ‘Oh, they’re out back,’ replied Elizabeth, standing up too. ‘You can see them later. They’ve been agitating to wake you up since just after nine. Now—’ she glanced at her husband, ‘you’d like some coffee?’

  ‘I’d love some,’ Charles nodded. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’

  After they had gone, Jeremy smiled. ‘That was very tactful, wasn’t it?’ he remarked. Then: ‘Come and sit down. I want to look at you. I want to kiss you—’

  ‘No, Jeremy,’ Caroline interrupted him, going to sit on an easy chair. ‘I—I don’t want you to kiss me. I’m going to marry someone else.’

  Jeremy looked taken aback. He didn’t sit down, but stood staring at her as if he couldn’t believe his ears. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘You know I am, Jeremy. I told you before I came out here that—’