by Dilys Xavier
‘You'll have to excuse me now, Maria.’ He looked apologetic. ‘I’m in a hurry to go see one of my owners. You know how it is, but I’ll be back in good time for dinner.’
John came in to clear the table, and Maria wondered what he must be thinking of her sudden appearance there. As though it matters, she consoled herself. Yet, she suddenly felt strange and wished she hadn't come. She decided to start work straight away and left the room to fetch her canvas for the preliminary drawing, and her camera to capture details for reference when working indoors.
The afternoon was soft and balmy, the light good for painting. Ginger, the head lad, obligingly brought out the first of her subjects, and instructed one of the stable lads to hold him while Maria took photographs. Then she quickly sketched the outline in a thinned, brown oil colour, on top of the pale sandy coloured background she had already prepared. She worked fast, and soon had the basic shapes on her canvas. Her fingers flew deftly as the portrait took shape, and when the light began to fade, Maria packed up her work and went to her room for a rest. People say painting is relaxing, she mused; it's anything but, if you're serious about it. Weary by now from concentrating, she flopped onto the comfortable bed for a short rest intended to last only a few minutes, but immediately fell asleep.
‘Everything all right in there? It's been awfully quiet up here for some time,’ she heard a voice say, right outside the door.
She jumped off the bed and opened the door, her long hair dishevelled from tossing and turning on her pillow. ‘I’m so sorry. I fell asleep,’ she said, rubbing her eyes.
‘Dinner's almost ready. Come down when you're ready.’ Phillip’s eyes glanced quickly around the room, but her painting was out of view. ‘Did you do any work today?’
‘Yes, I've done quite well. If I go on at this speed I'll soon finish them all.’ She lifted up the unfinished portrait, and Phillip’s admiration was immediate.
‘That’s great. You’re a fast worker.’
As she moved aside, Phillip slipped just inside the door to look closer, his face so close to hers she could feel his breath on her cheek. His fingers touched hers ever so briefly as he took the canvas gently out of her hands, causing her to pull away from his closeness.
As he placed the wet oil painting back onto the easel, it brushed against her hair. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he said, quickly, grasping her hair gently in his hand. He let it fall behind her shoulders, his eyes holding a bewitchingly smouldering look that sent a little tremor through her. ‘We can't have your painting spoiled, not even by your lovely tresses.’
Whether deliberately or not, his lips lightly brushed the top of her head as he reached over. Frightened at her own reaction Maria took a sudden step back, her heart racing, as it did so often in his presence. Remembering her intention to lead him on, even as she recoiled, she paused and looked deep into his eyes with an inviting smile.
He fell for it instantly, taking her hand gently in his. ‘There's not much to do around an old place on a balmy night like this,’ he murmured, touching his forehead lightly to hers, ‘and I'll be away at Exeter racecourse all day tomorrow, so how about we go out for a drive and dinner tonight?’
‘I'd like that,’ Maria nodded. ‘I'll get ready and be down in ten minutes.’ She saw him out with an impish smile playing around her lips. This was the kind of opportunity she wanted, so she showered quickly and changed into a pencil-slim black skirt that accentuated her shapely hips. A black, long-sleeved blouse with a silver thread running through it went well with the skirt, and she knotted a fuchsia chiffon scarf carefully to the side of the plunging neckline.
Maria peered into the mirror and brushed her hair so that it fell like a waterfall of gold around her shoulders. She picked up her bag, and closed the bedroom door behind her, leaning against it for a couple of seconds to allow herself a smile of satisfaction before going down. She was ready to capture his heart and then? Her smile broadened with each step that took her nearer to the great hall where her host waited.
With an audible gasp, he watched as she approached. His gaze moved slowly over her slim figure, halting momentarily on her firm young breasts before engaging her green eyes. Without a word, he stared at her for several seconds. ‘You look beautiful, Maria,’ he breathed, placing his hand gently under her elbow to escort her to the waiting car. ‘Let's go.’ Her plan was working.
Chapter Ten
Phillip drove deep into countryside bathed in the warmth of the early evening sun. Delicate streaks of glowing pink merged with pearl grey cumulus puffs as they floated like cotton balls high across an azure sky. Maria was content to just sit and drink in the beauty, and wonder at the hand that painted pictures like no man ever could.
‘We've arrived. It’s just up here,’ Phillip assured her, breaking the spell with a smile and a nod of his head as he turned up a high-hedged lane.
Maria came to life. ‘This is another world; there's beauty everywhere, and it's so peaceful.’ She sighed, and looked around. ‘Not even the usual farm noises.’
Phillip smiled as he turned into the concealed driveway of a stately manor house. He parked the car and jumped out to open the door for her. ‘You’ll enjoy this. It’s twelfth century; even older than my place.’
Maria looked around in awe. ‘It's fantastic.’
‘Yes, fantastic,’ Phillip murmured, but he was looking at Maria, not at the manor, as he spoke. His lips lightly brushed her hair as he put his arm around her waist to guide her through the doorway. Maria could not decide whether it was deliberate, or accidental, but whichever, it was how she wanted it.
‘We are delighted to see you again, Mr Carter.’ The greeting was enthusiastic. ‘Your usual table, sir?’ In response to Phillip’s nod, the impeccably dressed head waiter led the way to an alcove table. It was set unobtrusively inside burnt plum coloured velvet curtains which were drawn back and held in place with heavy silk cords. One pull, and the curtains would drop for the privacy of whoever dined there. Maria could not help wondering who else may have dined with Phillip at his 'usual' table, and the curiosity brought a fleeting frown to her face.
‘Is everything all right?’ Phillip put his hand gently on her arm, and looked steadily at her.
She knew he had sensed something was bothering her, but what did it matter to her who he might have brought here? She was the one with him now, and so far everything was going according to plan. Unable to accept his gaze any longer without flinching, she lowered her eyes. He makes a woman feel she's the only one in the world, she mused, feeling certain she wasn’t the first to be affected that way by him. ‘Thank you, Phillip, everything is perfect,’ she replied brightly, dismissing all her disquieting thoughts.
He leaned closer and pointed to the menu. ‘I can recommend the duckling; very well cooked and not too rich.’
‘Good, then I’d like prawns, with duckling to follow, thanks,’ she said.
‘We seem to have the same taste in food,’ Phillip said, as he gave the order to Charles. ‘Oh, and a bottle of my favourite, please.’
The service was fast, with the first course appearing in what seemed only minutes. ‘This is superb,’ Maria commented, as she tasted her prawn cocktail. All was going as she had planned, yet the artificiality of the evening bothered her.
The Champagne quickly lifted her spirits enough for her to enjoy the undivided attention of her companion, and by now, she didn't care who he had brought here before. Her eyes sparkled, and she felt pleasantly happy despite everything, acknowledging it was the bubbly making her feel this way.
They ate leisurely, laughing and chatting the whole while, but to Maria, it seemed no time at all before Phillip pointed to his wristwatch. ‘It's late.’ He placed his hand gently over hers. ‘Time’s gone quickly. Tomorrow will be a busy day for us both, so I think we should leave now.’ He gave her an apologetic look.
‘You're right. The Champagne made me forget all about the work,’ Maria admitted, picking up her handbag.
‘Com
e along,’ he laughed, saying goodnight to Charles as he escorted her out of the main hall. Maria made no objection to his arm around her waist as they made for the car, and she was soon comfortably seated in the Ferrari. As Phillip Carter negotiated the winding lanes on the journey home, she took a sneaky look at his profile outlined in the moonlight, and relaxed into the comfort of the seat, feeling pleased at the way the evening had gone.
Before she realised it, Phillip had pulled up. ‘We're home,’ he whispered. ‘Come on, you look sleepy. I'll leave the car out here for tonight.’
He held her close as he led her inside, shutting the heavy door with a clang that echoed through the sparsely furnished hall. It was so dimly lit that Maria could barely see, and as she reached out to feel her way forward, his fingers slid from her hand to her arm, finally coming to rest on her shoulder. He stopped, and then turned her slowly to face him.
As soon as her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, she could see he was gazing at her intently. He was uncomfortably close, his breath hot on her cheek as he drew her closer to caress her cheek with the back of his hand.
Maria knew the wine had lightened her mood and given her an unaccustomed boldness, but she was satisfied he would not see the mischief in her eyes in such a dim light. The urge to encourage and then reject him in return for the suffering he was causing her became stronger. She wanted him to feel anguish too, no matter how, or what, as long as she had some recompense for the torture he was giving her. Despite recognising her impish thoughts for what they were, she still wanted the feel of his lips on hers, even knowing she intended to pull away to deny him the slightest satisfaction.
With a voice thick with emotion, he called her name, low, and tenderly. Surprisingly, compassion suddenly stirred within for this man she was going to beguile, the man whose voice she had come to know so well, the man who was whispering loving words, such as she thought he could never utter.
‘Maria, I…’ As his lips sought hers, long and lingering, she felt a choking sensation, unsure whether it was fear, resentment, or desire. In silence he kissed her again and again, each time more passionately. His hands cupped her face as his lips explored hers, hungry to know every line and curve of her trembling mouth, lightly touching her eyes, and tracing kisses down her neck.
Instinctively, she closed her eyes and yielded, lost in a dream of submission to him; to a man she disliked; a man to whom she had sworn hostility. With her intention to deny him all gone now, she wanted his caresses. Throwing the promise to herself aside, she lifted her lips for more, returning his embrace with equal ardour.
Phillip's arms tightened as he sensed her response, his breathing heavier as his desire increased. Maria could feel the thud of his heart against her body. Was this a dream? She blinked to the reality of it all, only to close her eyes, once more accepting kisses the like of which she had never known before.
Breathing heavily now, his hands moved gently over her tortured flesh, exploring and bringing to life dormant feelings that traced excruciatingly through her body. Lost in oblivion, she was aware now only of a desire that sought to betray her innocence.
Seductively, he murmured, ‘Maria, my darling, I want…’
Maria jerked as the word ‘want’ exploded like a firework in her head, bringing her to her senses. She opened her eyes wide, and stared at him, wrenching free of the grip of a man who would possess her.
‘No,’ she cried, as alarm filled her. ‘And I'm not your darling.’ She pushed her hands firmly against his chest, her words echoing through the ancient building. His response was something she had never truly intended; something that could quickly get out of control. And she knew she had only herself to blame for it.
As though stung, his grip loosened and he stepped back, staring at her silently in the shadows that fell across the hall.
‘I’m going,’ she gasped, and fled for the sanctuary of her room. She was afraid of him, and afraid of herself too, by now. She took the spiral staircase as fast as she could, pausing briefly where the steps turned, and looked back to make sure he was not in pursuit.
Just then, peals of laughter reverberated through the cavernous hall. ‘You’re running as if all the demons of hell were after you. Come back; I'm not going to hurt you. Maria, don’t be silly.’
Shocked at having allowed him to think he was going to have his own way so easily, paid for with Champagne, a few kisses, and sweet nothings, she spat her words at him from the top of the stairs. ‘How dare you. And how dare you presume you can call me your darling.’
She slammed the solid oak door and threw home the bolt, leaning against it with her heart beating wildly as she breathed in short, sharp gasps.
‘Damn and blast you,’ she cried, flinging herself on the bed. ‘Laugh at me, would you? Silly am I? I'll show you, Phillip Carter. I haven't finished with you yet.’
She pummelled the pillow in anger, then fell on it to stifle the sobs as tears fell. There was no sign of sleep, so she lay on her back and stared at the ceiling, determining not to be caught like this again. Tightening her mouth, she began to calm down. ‘You'll pay for this, Phillip Carter.’ After a short while, she undressed and slid between the sheets. She gave a final glance around the room, pulled up the bedclothes to her shoulders, and tried to settle down for her first night at the old house. It was a night she knew she would never forget.
Moonlight streamed in through the small window throwing grotesque shadows across the room. She could almost hear the emptiness of the great building, and, uncannily, could feel it too. Maria looked around nervously; the place had an ancient splendour about it, but it was eerie, and she was not only frightened, she was angry as well. Sleep evaded her for a long time, but eventually she dropped off, and when next she opened her eyes it was daylight and past eight o'clock. She showered, dressed hurriedly, and crept downstairs feeling guilty for being so late in a household that was used to rising at dawn.
A note from John told her where to find her breakfast; he had gone to town for provisions, but there was no message from Phillip, no sign of him either. She was quite alone, and finished her meal in record time, eager to get out of the unfriendly atmosphere of the building and into the welcome warmth of the sunshine.
‘Morning, Miss Cable,’ Ginger greeted her. ‘Which horse would you like to work on today?’
‘Any one of the three, Ginger, suit yourself.’
The head lad gave a call to one of the stable hands. ‘Help Miss Cable set up her easel, then bring out Lady Talbot's grey gelding,’ he told the boy. He turned to Maria. ‘Anything you need, Miss, just call me.’ Then he left with a polite touch to his cap.
Maria chose her position while the other lad sorted out her easel. ‘I'll take some shots for reference first,’ she told him, clicking away with her camera. ‘I'll need lots of photographs.’ The day was ideal for working and once again Maria sketched quickly, her hand moving confidently over her canvas. Then she began to paint, stopping only when her body dictated to take a drink and eat the sandwiches, thoughtfully left for her by John.
‘You can stable the horse now,’ she said to the lad a short while later. ‘I don't need him any longer.’ Time passed quickly, and staying in the same position for so long made her back ache, and her eyes were tired through uninterrupted concentration. She eased back and looked around to see the head lad approaching.
‘Finished, Miss Cable?’ Ginger enquired, as he strolled up to see her efforts. ‘It looks good already.’
Maria smiled and stood back and surveyed her work. ‘It doesn't take long once I get started.’
‘Oil paint takes a long time to dry, doesn't it, Miss Cable?’
‘It can, but I have a concoction of my own that speeds up the process.’ She winked. ‘Tricks of the trade.’ It was early evening before she had packed her gear away to go inside for a meal. She was hungry.
‘Evening Miss Cable. Had a good day?’ John enquired politely.
‘Yes, thank you, most favourable.’ With
a sigh, she flopped onto a chair and looked around questioningly. ‘I assume Phillip will be late home tonight?’
‘Probably.’ John glanced at the old grandfather clock. ‘He's dining with one of his owners, and you know how time flies when you get talking, Miss, especially about horses.’ John placed a platter of succulent Welsh lamb on the table along with a variety of home-grown vegetables. ‘Help yourself, and here's some mint sauce, made with mint from our own herb garden.’
Maria gazed around as she wondered who Phillip was dining with. To her surprise, a pang of jealousy invaded her thoughts when she considered it could be a female owner, maybe a young and attractive one, at that. The dreamy look in her eyes disappeared as John returned to ask if she had all she wanted.
‘Yes thanks, John. This looks good.’ Maria helped herself to a generous portion of lamb and vegetables, but she began to dwell on Phillip Carter again; where he was, what he was doing and with whom. Why am I thinking about him like this, she wondered, reproaching herself for letting her thoughts stray to him so often. I'm not hankering after him; I don't really want to see him. He can go where he likes, do whatever he wishes, and with whomever he wants. In truth, the less I see of Phillip Carter, the better, especially after last night. I'll do well to remember that what he does with his life is no business of mine. Her eyes narrowed. But I’ll be careful to give him no further opportunity to subject me to such humiliation again. Her lips tightened as her thoughts raced through her mind. If there is a next time, I'll be more careful; I’ll be the one to play him along, and the one to laugh. ‘That was delicious, thank you.’ Maria smiled at John when he asked if she wanted dessert. ‘No more thanks. I'll have an early night, and see you in the morning. Goodnight.’