"What about offering me a drink now that I'm here?" He came across the room and stopped a couple of feet from her. "A brandy, I think, and a Hines for preference."
"Please pour what you want," she said shakily. "I never know how much to give."
"Not only about brandy," he said huskily. "You also give of yourself far too generously."
Scarlet-faced, she could not look into his eyes, but as she turned away he pulled her round to face him and kissed her quickly and hard on the mouth.
"I love you, darling," he said abruptly, and dropping his hands, picked up the bottle of brandy.
Sara did not know whether to be pleased or angry. The touch of Gavin's lips had transported her into a world of sensuous delight, but his abrupt ending of it had sent that self-same world crashing, and once again she did not know where she was. If he did not love her why had he kissed her, and if he loved her enough to kiss her, why had he let her go?
"You look more beautiful than ever, Sara." He was eyeing her over the edge of his glass. "I don't think I've seen that dress before."
"There are lots of my dresses you haven't seen." She tilted her head; if he could make banal conversation, so could she. "I have a wardrobe-full."
"I don't doubt it."
"I suppose you think I'm extravagant?"
"It's only extravagant to spend what one doesn't have."
"In that case," she said coolly, "one would not consider me to be extravagant."
His eyes glinted, but he sipped his brandy in silence. Sara perched on the arm of the settee, convinced that Gavin's coolness stemmed from his awareness of her wealth. She wanted to tell him it did not matter, that if he wished she would give it all away, but she knew that to say anything like this was precipitate. First he had to declare himself. Only then could she disclose her own feelings. Nervously she looked down at one slender leg. She had already shown her own feelings so clearly that Gavin would have to be blind not to know how she felt about him.
"Did you miss me while I was away?" he asked, and came to sit on the same settee but on the far end of it.
"I've been too busy to miss you. We've been arranging a dinner-dance for the Prince."
"Ah yes," his glance was sly. "Here's your chance to get yourself a tide, young Sara. I understand he's looking for a bride."
"Will you be willing to dance at my wedding ?"
"If I thought you were happy."
His clever answer told her that when it came to sparring with him she would be the loser, but it did not prevent her from trying. "How does one know that happiness is going to last? One can start off with the best of intentions and then everything can go sour."
"Marriages don't go wrong for no reason," he said harshly.
"Circumstances can - "
"People make their own circumstances," he interrupted. He seemed to be speaking with a hidden meaning which she could not fathom, and she knew with sadness that he did not want her to understand. Oddly, she felt they were strangers and that they would remain so until she could share the knowledge he was trying to keep from her.
"Is anything wrong, Gavin?" she asked.
"No. Why should you think there is?"
"Just something in your manner. There's so much about you I don't know."
"That shouldn't surprise you," he said abruptly. "I've lived the best part of my life without you."
Tears filled her eyes and she jumped up. "That's a hurtful thing to say! I've only known you a few weeks, but - "
"Darling, don't cry." He was standing too and his hands were warm on her bare arms. "Don't cry," he reiterated. "You're too lovely ever to be hurt."
"Then why are you hurting me?"
Childishly she rubbed her knuckles against her eyes and the gesture seemed to be his undoing, for with a murmur he turned her around and gathered her close.
"Forgive me," he said huskily. "I'm edgy tonight. I shouldn't have come over to see you."
"If I could believe you did come over to see me," she whispered, "I would feel much better."
For an instant he said nothing. Then: "Who did you think I came over to see, if not you?"
"I don't know."
"Because you don't know, it's no good reason for imagining things," he teased and, releasing his hold of her, went to set his brandy goblet on the tray. "I'd better go."
"When will I see you again?" She knew she should not ask but could not prevent herself.
"Tomorrow. Are you free to have dinner with me?"
She was so happy that her eyes shone. "Of course I'm free. Do you need to ask?"
"If I didn't, you would soon have my guts for garters!"
She giggled. "Girls don't wear garters any more."
"It would have sounded indecent if I'd said tights!"
This time she laughed outright, and the sound was still echoing in her ears as Gavin blew her a goodnight kiss and left.
He does love me, she thought, staring at the closed door, and if he goes on being so reluctant to commit himself, I'll have to do it for him. It's too silly for us to keep pretending.
The following evening Gavin took her to a small but charming bistro within walking distance of the Embassy. Because the night was balmy he left his car in the courtyard and escorted her there on foot.
"I hope you can do justice to a good meal," he said. "Claude is a Burgundian and he doesn't only have a marvellous table, but a prolific one."
"I haven't eaten much today," she confessed. "I've been too busy."
"With the Royal affair?" he teased.
"Helen is pulling out all the stops. The tables are going to be strewn with flowers and the theme is totally Fragonard."
"Are you referring to the scent or the painter?"
"The painter," she laughed. "Everyone will have to come in Fragonard colours."
"I don't see myself in a pastel pink dinner jacket!"
"Only the women," she assured him solemnly. "Can you see Father wearing anything other than a black dinner jacket?"
"No, I couldn't," he agreed, and was instantly sobered.
His lightheartedness did not even return when they were sitting across from one another at the dinner table, and again Sara was conscious of how much she did not understand about him. Of course he was over twelve years her senior and many more years older than that in experience. Maybe he found her too childish? Yet if he did he would not have fallen in love with her - and he was in love with her; she could tell from the look in his eyes, the way his lower lip trembled as he watched her, as if he could not quite suppress the desire to kiss her.
"I've looked forward to seeing you all day," she said deliberately.
"That goes for me too, young Sara."
"I do wish you wouldn't call me that. I'm not so young."
"You are Sara and you are young."
"I'm not a child, Gavin. I see and know quite a lot."
"Do you indeed? And what precisely do you know and see?"
She longed to tell him how worried she was about her father, but loyalty kept her silent. How could she discuss his emotional life with a man who worked for him? If only Gavin were not employed at the Embassy!
"What's wrong, Sara?" Gavin leaned across the table. "You look very pale."
"I'm hungry," she said quickly, and reached out for a piece of French bread.
The meal, when it came, was everything Gavin had promised it would be, and by the time their final course was set before them, a tangy sorbet with tiny fraises des bois to follow, she was feeling much less on edge.
"You could never get a meal like this in a small restaurant in London," she sighed.
"How many small restaurants in London do you know?" he chided.
"I've heard my friends speak."
"Charles, for example?"
It took her an instant to realise he was referring to Ann's brother and she was delighted he had remembered his name. "Charles was one of them," she said guilelessly.
"Where did you meet him?" Gavin's voice was abrupt and she g
estured vaguely, glad to see he accepted it as an answer. "I take it you'll be returning to England during August?" he spoke again.
"I'm not sure." Once again she had a chance to tell him of Helen's restlessness and of her own fears that the marriage - even at this early stage - was beginning to crack. But again loyalty kept her silent and she murmured that Helen wanted them to go to New York for part of the time.
"I've never been to America," she added. "I think it will be exciting."
"No city is exciting in August, particularly New York."
"Nor Paris."
"Actually I like Paris when everyone has left it," he said. "You get to appreciate the city then. There's no problem with parking and you can walk along the pavements without being jostled. The buildings and the trees come into their own too, when there's hardly a soul to appreciate them."
"Maybe that's why they blossom."
"There's no point in blossoming unseen. Everything needs to be appreciated."
"Even people?" she ventured.
"Especially people." He reached across the table and caught hold of her hand. "Like you, for instance. When you know you are loved, you radiate. When you feel ignored, you close up your petals and fade."
Delighted by the description, she smiled and a dimple came and went in her cheek.
"Don't look at me like that," he said abruptly, "or I'll make a fool of myself and kiss you in front of everyone." He released her hand and resumed eating. Sara made an effort to do the same, but she wasn't very successful.
"Where are you going for the summer?" she asked.
"I'll be here most of the time and in Yorkshire for my holiday."
"On the family estate?"
He smiled ruefully. "Not an estate, Sara. I don't come from a rich family."
"So Jane told me."
"Has she, be damned! And how come you were talking about my family?"
"She was telling me that everyone thought she'd made a good catch when she married Mike." The fork in Gavin's hand was still, but he made no comment and she continued speaking. "She also told me about the baby - you know, of course?"
"Yes."
"Is Mike pleased?"
The fork jerked again and Gavin set it down on his plate. "Of course he's pleased. It's what they've been wanting for years."
"I suppose children help to give marriage stability," she said, thinking of Helen who had no time for anything but clothes, jewels and enjoying herself.
"Nothing can stabilise a bad marriage," Gavin replied, "but children can help to make a good one that much better."
"What did Mike mean about not staying on in Paris?" Sara asked the question idly and was taken aback to see Gavin's eyes cloud over, almost as if he had drawn a shutter on them to keep her out of his thoughts.
"Are you sure that's what Mike said?" he drawled.
"Jane told me."
"You must have misunderstood her - or perhaps she misunderstood him."
"Neither of us misunderstood anything," Sara persisted. "As a matter of fact I'd thought of asking my father."
"For God's sake don't do that!" The words seemed torn from him and he saw her look of shock. "I'm sorry, Sara, but - but you know how much harm gossip can do, and if your father thought Mike was unhappy here…"
"But he is happy, isn't he?"
Gavin nodded, though his eyes still remained shuttered, and for the rest of the evening she had the impression that the real part of him was miles away. Only when they walked home through the dark streets, the air cooler now that it was midnight, did the feeling of distance between them diminish, and when he caught her hand and swung it gently backwards and forwards, she felt as though she were turning the clock back too.
"Do you remember the night on my balcony?" she whispered.
"Not if I can help it." His voice was low and throbbing. "If I think of it at night, it stops me sleeping!"
"Why can't you be serious ?" she reproached.
"Not yet."
The words seemed forced from him and she stopped walking and peered up into his face. "Why not yet?"
"So many questions, Sara."
"Only because you're so puzzling. I can't fathom you out."
"Put it down to the difference in our ages, my sweet. With a little more sophistication you won't find me difficult to understand."
"I suppose I must be like an open book to you," she said reproachfully.
"No, darling." Gently he raised her hand to his lips. "The pages are still uncut, though some of the contents are plain to see!"
"One day I'll be full of bons mots too," she warned, "then you'd better watch out, Gavin Baxter."
"I should have been on my guard against you from the moment we met," he sighed, and regardless of the few passers-by, lowered his head and kissed her full on the mouth. Before she had a chance to respond, he drew back and resumed walking, the gesture telling her - as his behaviour had done all the evening - that he had many other problems on his mind.
"Don't shut me out," she pleaded. "If anything is worrying you, I do wish you'd tell me."
"My dear Sara," the look he gave her was both haughty and astonished, reminding her that he was a man experienced in the ways of dealing with women, "I have a few political problems that need resolving. Nothing at all for you to worry about."
She didn't believe him, but she had enough sense not to say so, and enough pride to give him a cool goodnight as they reached the front door.
For the next few days both she and Gavin were too busy to see one another: Gavin with work unspecified and she with helping Helen to make the final arrangements for the Prince's arrival.
He was, when he finally came to stay, a young man of charm who seemed far happier when he was being teased by Sara than treated with awed deference by Helen, who found it difficult to forget his royal birth. The difference between Helen's attitude and that of Sir William's brought home to Sara the knowledge that it was not only age which separated them, but outlook and behaviour too. Try as she would, Sara could not help seeing how ill at ease Helen was in surroundings that she herself took for granted. But worse than this was her condescension to others whom she considered her inferiors, a word she so often used and which her husband had never uttered in his life.
How could he have married her, Sara thought, on the evening of the dinner and dance as she went up to her bedroom to change. Helen had been more than usually difficult today, made so by nerves, Sara had conceded," but nonetheless had found it extremely hard to keep her own temper. Surprisingly, her father had not been so strong- minded, and for the first time she could remember, she had heard him raise his voice to Helen.
This, more than anything else, made her acknowledge the impossibility of going to New York with them. Their quarrels were becoming too frequent for her to dismiss them or to make sure she was not around when they erupted, and only by spending as little time with them as possible was she able to maintain a degree of friendship with her stepmother, particularly now that her strongest desire was to catch those two thin shoulders and give them a violent shake. Didn't Helen know when she was well off? Didn't she realise she had a man in a thousand? Thinking of Aunt Grace living alone in London, writing her gay letters as if she really were having the wonderful time she pretended, Sara was not sure that her anger shouldn't have been directed against her father, who had brought his unhappiness upon himself. The trouble was that innocent people had to suffer for it too.
By the time she had changed into a shimmering white dress, its decollete bodice edged with pearls, its full skirt caught here and there with tiny bundles of stephanotis, she was in a more equable frame of mind, though she knew that not until she was with Gavin would she totally relax. How long ago it seemed since she had spoken to him alone, and what little chance she would have of doing so until the best part of the evening was over, since both she and Gavin had their own duties to carry out, he with the guests coming to meet the Prince and she with the Prince himself, who had shown a flattering inclination for
her company.
"Play your cards right," Helen had whispered in her ear only yesterday, "and you might end up in a palace!"
"Not with His Highness," Sara had said firmly. "He isn't my type."
"Any man can be a woman's type if she sets her mind to it."
"But how can one guarantee one can always keep one's mind set that way?" Sara had replied with unusual crispness."
"You aren't very subtle, are you, Sara?"
"I'm too young to be subtle," Sara had retorted, and had walked away before their words could develop into an argument.
She thought of them now as she went downstairs to the ballroom, and had the feeling she was standing on the edge of a crater, not sure whether it would erupt in front of her or whether the earth would open up under her feet. But whatever it was, something dreadful was going to happen. She shivered and chided herself for being too imaginative. Since meeting Gavin she had lived on her nerves and it was beginning to affect her.
Straightening her shoulders, she glided across the parquet floor, her full skirts billowing around her, her curving shoulders rising from the tight-fitting bodice like a translucent pearl. Several dozen pairs of eyes watched her with admiration, but Sara only saw one, and immediately after she had curtsied to the Prince and acknowledged her stepmother and father, she moved over to Gavin, her face mirroring the emotion in her heart. But no answering emotion showed on his face, only a careful smile.
"Hello, Sara. You look as if you should be on top of a Christmas tree."
"Is there too much glitter?" she asked, dismayed.
"Good lord, no! I just mean you look far out of a mortal's reach - "
"I'm not out of your reach." She held out her hands to him and he took them, squeezed them and instantly let them go.
"My dear, you mustn't," he said huskily.
Roberta Leigh - Too Young To Love Page 7