He looked as if he wanted to say more, but Sir William chose that moment to come in and jovially asked Gavin to pour him a whisky.
Sara sat down, avoiding the settee in case Gavin came to sit next to her. Hardly had she done so when Helen returned, followed by Mike and a plump woman whom Sara instantly recognised as Gavin's sister, for she had the same blue eyes and black hair. She was plainly dressed and wore little make-up, but she had a gamine quality which Sara liked, despite being annoyed at having to meet her tonight.
"So you're Sara?" Jane perched herself on a chair nearby. "Gavin has told me a lot about you."
"How could he? You've only just got back."
"We've kept in touch." She glanced at her brother, who was deep in conversation with Sir William. "I was staying with my parents, and it's a ritual for him to ring them every Sunday morning. He has done it ever since he left home."
"How unusual!" Sara could not hide her surprise.
"Not when you know what a close-knit family we are. My mother has a bad heart," Jane added, "and it's made us all extremely protective towards her - especially Gavin, who's her favourite."
"Don't you mind?" asked Sara.
"Good heavens, no! Anyway, it's natural. He's the only boy among three sisters!"
"No wonder he's spoilt."
Jane raised her eyebrows. "I don't think Gavin's spoilt. You're not serious, are you?"
Sara shrugged and sipped her drink. Gavin was right about her liking his sister. She did, as it happened, for there was a warmth about the girl that reminded her of her friend Ann. Suddenly she remembered the letter she had received from her that morning. In it she had said her older brother Charles was staying at the Plaza for a few days and she hoped Sara would have a chance to call him.
"I'll do more than that," Sara decided devilishly and, murmuring an apology to Jane, left the room.
In the library, she put in a call to Charles, praying he had not yet gone out for the evening. Luckily he hadn't, and was delighted to hear from her.
"Ann won't forgive me if I go back home without telling her I've seen you," he said after they had chatted a few moments. "I know it's short notice, but I wonder if you would be free to have a drink with me?"
"Not tonight," she said, "but I am free for dinner tomorrow."
His hesitation was perceptible and mischievously she remembered that the last time they had met she had been a gauche and plump sixteen.
"That would suit me fine," he replied.
"Then call for me at the Embassy at eight," she said, and hoped Gavin would be around when he did.
Sara returned to the drawing-room with a sense of achievement which helped her to get through the best part of the evening. She was cool towards Gavin and resolutely refused to meet his eyes. When forced to do so, she kept her own deliberately blank, and after several vain attempts to get mentally close to her, Gavin too became aloof. Remembering how eagerly she had looked forward to going out with him tonight Sara was hard put not to burst into tears. This might have been the reaction of a normal eighteen-year-old girl frustrated in love, but was not how the sophisticated daughter of Sir William Claremont would behave.
Helen seemed to be enjoying herself more than anyone else. With Gavin and Mike as escorts of her own age, she was in her element, and Sir William was content to let her dance with both of them in turn, while he stayed at the table chatting to Jane, who could not dance because of a strained calf muscle.
"That comes from riding too much," her husband said unsympathetically after she had refused to take the floor with him. "Jane is mad about horses," he confided to the table. "Sometimes I think she prefers them to people."
"I rather endorse my sister's view," Gavin interposed. "One can pretty well assess what a horse is going to do if one looks at its breeding and training, but people are always unknown factors."
"Surely that makes for interest?" Helen queried.
"And trouble too."
"Let's not hear any talk of trouble," Sir William said urbanely. "We're here to enjoy ourselves."
Helen flashed him a brilliant smile, though when she stood up it had been to dance with Gavin, who had stepped in front of Mike.
"My turn, I believe," he said suavely, and moved her on to the floor before she could reply.
With a slightly discomfited grin Mike turned to Sara. "Will you take pity on me, since my wife can't?"
"Sure," Sara grinned back and, as his arms came round her, she tried not to think that they might have been Gavin's. "I like Jane," she said as they moved out of earshot of the table.
"Everyone likes Jane."
"Where did you meet?"
"It's so long ago I can hardly remember. Gavin was my fag at Eton. I must have been sixteen when I met Jane, but I didn't start taking her out till I was much older."
"Why not?"
"Because she was a baby." He swung Sara round the floor in several intricate steps and grinned at her, highly delighted with himself. "A much younger eighteen than 'you are. She was a real country girl when I first dated her." His glance slid past Sara to the table. "She hasn't changed much since then either."
"I think it's rather nice to retain one's youthful illusions."
"Nice or naive?" Mike asked with such unexpected harshness that Sara did not know how to reply; a fact which made her realise that she too was naive. The tempo of the music changed and as Mike slowed his step to match the rhythm, they found themselves abreast of Helen and Gavin.
"How fortuitous," the older girl drawled, touching Mike on the elbow. "I'm sure Gavin and Sara would love to dance together."
Mike quickly swung Helen away, leaving Gavin and Sara next to each other. Ignoring her uplifted hand, he put both of his around her waist and pulled her none too gently against him until their bodies were touching. With sinuous grace he moved in time to the music. Sara tried to hold herself aloof, but with his body touching hers it was impossible. All she could feel was the hardness of his chest against her soft breasts and the steel-like pressure of his thigh.
"Relax," he murmured into her ear. "You know the old saying, if you can't fight, give in and enjoy it!"
"The way I heard it, it was if you can't fight, pretend to give in."
His grip tightened and she was hard put not to wince. "Don't make me angry with you," he grated.
"Why should you be angry with me?"
"A good question. I'll answer it if you'll tell me why you're angry with me."
"You know."
"Because I accepted your stepmother's invitation? I told you I had my reasons."
"So you had reasons," she retorted. "But next time don't ask me to go with you as well."
"What about your date tomorrow?"
His remark took her by surprise. "With Charles?"
His grip was now almost bone-shattering. "So that's his name. I would like to remind you that you'd made arrangements to come out with me before we quarrelled."
Sara lowered her eyes to hide the smile in them. Poor Gavin I He didn't realise how clearly his jealousy was showing. She longed to tell him she had made her arrangements with Charles only when she had been provoked into anger, but deliberately held herself in check.
"I didn't think you wanted to see me every night," she whispered sweetly.
"Some things don't need to be put into words."
"Girls like things to be put into words."
"What about actions?" He spoke against her ear. "Leave with me now, Sara. I'll think of an excuse."
In triumph she could afford to be perverse and she shook her head. "I don't want to leave now. I'm enjoying myself."
"A moment ago you said you weren't."
"I've changed my mind. Don't you know that's a woman's prerogative?"
"You're a spoilt child, not a woman!"
Provocatively she tilted her head at him. "Do you always hold children so close?"
With a muffled imprecation he held her away from him and she gazed into his face with deliberate innocence. A pulse
beat erratically in the side of his temple and his eyes were narrowed in controlled fury. Contented in the knowledge that she had finally roused him to anger, jealousy and desire, she demurely suggested they return to their table.
"I've had enough, Gavin," she said sweetly.
"So have I," he replied without expression. "More than enough."
CHAPTER FOUR
Sara would have given a great deal to call off her dinner with Charles, but conscience refused to let her. And it was this same conscience which made her take extra pains with her appearance. She forced herself to remember she was going out with Charles to make Gavin jealous, and the fact that he already was must not stop her from continuing with her plans. Indeed, it should give a fillip to the action.
To her delight her father was giving a small cocktail party at the Embassy, with both Gavin and Mike in attendance, and she decided to take Charles along for a quick drink - just to make sure Gavin saw them - before they went out.
The look on Charles's face when he saw her clearly showed what a pleasurable shock he had received, and she was sorely tempted to tease him about it until she remembered that she was supposed to be a femme fatale and not his kid sister's best friend.
Charles too had changed. Though not as good-looking as Gavin, he was a presentable young man. Tall, well- built and honest-looking, he had a polish that came from a good education, and charmed her father and stepmother when she took him in to say a quick hello. It was not until they were on their way out that she found Gavin in front of them.
"Leaving so soon, Sara? At least stay and give your guest another drink."
"Charles and I would rather be on our own." Sara linked her arm through his and was glad when he covered her hand with his own, a gesture which Gavin saw, as could be witnessed by the steel-like flash in his eyes.
"Are you staying in Paris long?" Gavin asked Charles.
"Only a couple of days." Charles looked at Sara. "But I'm hoping to come back again in a couple of weeks."
"I might be in London by then," Sara said artlessly.
"Then you'll save me a trip," Charles responded with gallantry, and rightly read the pressure of Sara's hand to mean that she wanted to leave.
She knew Gavin watched them until they had disappeared, knew too that he would spend a miserable evening thinking of her. This gave zest to her own evening and she was in unusually good spirits as she dined and danced with Charles, who was soon enchanted by this slender fey creature with her toffee-gold hair and lambent grey eyes.
It was after one o'clock when he left her at the Embassy, where she managed to avoid his seeking mouth so that his kiss landed on her brow.
"If you do come to London before I get back here," he said hoarsely, "will you promise to let me know?"
"Yes," she lied and, adroitly sidestepping him, slipped into the hall. "Goodnight, Charles," she called through the closed door, and tiptoed across the hall. As she did so she saw the light on in the small library, and thinking her father was there, she went in. But it was Helen who stood there, stubbing out a cigarette in an ashtray.
"I'm sorry," Sara said. "I thought it was Father."
"He's in bed. I've only just come in."
"Oh." Sara paused uncertainly and Helen shrugged.
"I went to a charity film show with Gavin. It was for orphaned children."
"Father gets tickets for it every year," Sara said automatically. "Someone from the Embassy always makes a point of going."
"Well, I was seconded for it this time." Helen's voice was jerky, as were her movements as she swung past Sara. "You coming up now?"
Sara nodded and followed her stepmother up the curving stairs. Her pleasure had evaporated, turned to ashes by the knowledge that Gavin had found someone else to take her place. But it was ridiculous to be jealous of her stepmother, and she tried to push away the oppressive feelings that were engulfing her.
"Was it a good film?" she asked.
"Excellent, but then I love musicals. I'm afraid Gavin doesn't." They had reached the main corridor and Helen opened the door of her suite, leaving Sara to make her way to her own room at the far end.
Gavin had said nothing to her about taking her to a film show tonight. If he had had the tickets surely he would have told her about it before he had gone to Copenhagen? Unless he had intended to take Helen all the time? Moodily she kicked off her shoes and padded around the room, the long skirts of her dress trailing on the carpet. She was so deep in gloomy thoughts that it was several moments before she became aware of the sound of hailstones beating against the window. She stared at the closed curtains. It was unusual for a storm to come up so quickly. There was another rattle on the pane and she walked over and pushed aside the curtains. The sky was cloudless and in the garden below not a branch stirred. As she stood there there was another shower of pebbles against the glass, and she jerked back violently, but not before she saw the pale blur of an upturned face on the path below. Someone was trying to get her attention. Quietly she opened the window and stepped on to the balcony. At once the figure below moved, and with a gasp of astonishment she saw it was Gavin.
"I thought you'd never hear me," he whispered. "I must have flung a ton of gravel."
"I thought it was a storm."
"There's a storm all right," he replied. "But it's in me! Come down here, Sara, I want to talk to you."
"I'm going to bed."
"You aren't even undressed yet. Come down."
"No."
"Then I'll come up."
"You can't," she protested.
"We'll see about that."
She watched, fascinated, as he grasped the trellis that masked the wall and climbed agilely up it until his head was on a level with her balustrade. "I'll have to call you Romeo," she said lightly.
"Don't put ideas into my head!"
She went scarlet and stepped back quickly, intent on getting into her room and locking the windows behind her.
As if guessing her intention Gavin vaulted over the pillars with the ease of a trained athlete and in one bound was across the balcony and gripping her by the shoulders. "If you go into your room," he grated, "I'm coming in with you. And I'd better warn you you'll be much safer with me if you remain out here!" Instantly her struggle ceased and he laughed. But it was a strained laugh, as if he were not amused.
"I've been waiting for you for hours, Sara."
"You couldn't have been. You only brought Helen home a little while ago."
"It seems like hours. I thought you would never get back."
"I don't know Charles well enough to spend the night with him!"
"Don't you?" Gavin put his hand under her chin and jerked her head up so violently that she thought her neck would snap. "Have you ever done it before?" he stormed.
"Don't be silly."
"I'm asking you," he grated.
"Of course I haven't. Don't you know?"
His breath came out on a long sigh. "I don't know anything about you any more. You have me so mogadored I can't think straight. What have you done to me, Sara? You've turned my whole life upside down."
She forced herself not to see in his words everything she wanted to see. "I don't know what you mean," she murmured.
"I know you don't, and that makes it even worse. If you were a woman you would know. But you're a child… an untouched child."
There were many replies she could have made, but thoughts of Helen kept her silent, and all she could do was stand and tremble within his grasp.
"Can't you say anything?" he demanded. "You've never been short of words before."
"I don't know what to say. I don't understand you."
"I thought I was being pretty obvious," he said drily.
"Not to me." She moistened her lips. "You were - you were with Helen tonight."
"Because I was free. Did you think I'd planned to take her out?"
"Didn't you?"
"Of course not." He dropped his hands away from her. "She was supposed to go with Mike.
But he couldn't go because Jane had come back, and as I was free, I went instead."
How simple the truth could make everything! Sara gave a sigh of pure relief, and with a radiant face, she lifted her arms and placed them round Gavin's neck. He gave a shudder and went to pull away, but she clung to him more tightly and with a moan he gathered her against him and lowered his head until his mouth found hers. It was a long and deeply satisfying kiss; the most adult kiss of Sara's life and one that awakened her from girlhood to womanhood. She was as innocent as Gavin had said, but passion gave her knowledge and her mouth parted beneath his and was open to his seeking.
"No!" It was a quiet but forceful sound and his hands came up and tore her arms away from his neck. "No, Sara, you don't know what you're doing."
"I'm only kissing you."
"Only!" he cried, and as if he could not stop himself, pulled her back into his arms. But he was careful not to touch her mouth, and rested his chin on the top of her head. "Your hair feels as soft as silk," he murmured, "and in the moonlight it looks like spun gold."
"Yours reminds me of jet. You are my pirate, Gavin. Did you know that's how I think of you?"
"Your pirate?" There was amusement in his voice. "Don't put any ideas into my head. For less than two pins I would abduct you!"
"For less than two pins I'd go!"
"Then why all the teasing?" he demanded. "This Charles… I was so murderously jealous I could have killed him!"
"I was jealous too. That's why I…" She hesitated. "It was because of Helen." She felt him stiffen, but when he replied his voice was casual.
"You have no reason to be jealous of your stepmother. It isn't very logical."
"Jealousy is rarely logical, and I love you so much that - " She stopped, furious at her indiscretion, but it was too late to retract the words, for he gave a soft but triumphant laugh.
"Darling Sara!" This time his hand under her chin was gentle as he tilted her head until their eyes met. "Any other girl would have waited for the man to say it first, but you have such honesty, such a lack of guile that you can't prevaricate."
"I'd make a rotten diplomat," she said ruefully, and waited for him to echo her own declaration. But instead he went on looking into her eyes.
Roberta Leigh - Too Young To Love Page 5