Merlyn's Magic

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Merlyn's Magic Page 21

by Carole Mortimer


  Her mother stayed and had dinner with her, no one daring to tell the autocratic woman it wasn't the customary thing to do. Merlyn could perhaps have found the situation amusing if she hadn't felt so miserable.

  'I think you have the wrong room—'

  'No—no, I have the right room.'

  Merlyn's lids flew wide open at the sound of that husky voice, turning her face towards the doorway where her mother was trying to see Rand out. He was looking past her mother straight at her, the silver eyes darkened with pain as the burns on her legs were still vividly visible.

  She had been lying in a semi-asleep state as her mother read her articles from a magazine she had brought in with her, the sudden harsh tone of her voice telling Merlyn they were no longer alone. But she hadn't expected the intruder to be Rand.

  She put up a self-conscious hand to her hair, aware that it had been singed shorter in places, although Sheila had come in and styled it so that this wasn't too noticeable. But her face was completely bare of make-up, and her legs were bared and unsightly. She looked a mess.

  She drank in the sight of Rand with a thirst that was unquenchable. He looked tired, lines around his eyes, the dark suit and white shirt he wore slightly creased. But it was so good just to look at him!

  'I think you're mistaken, young man,' her mother began again in a patronising tone. 'Merlyn is not receiving visitors just yet, and—'

  Cold grey eyes the colour of the Irish sea in a storm levelled on her with silencing arrogance. 'I have made no mistake, madam,' he bit out with icy disdain. 'And I think Merlyn will see me.'

  'It isn't a question of what Merlyn wants,' her mother attempted to bluster as she realised this man wasn't as impressed by her air of command as most other people were. 'Her doctors and I—'

  'Mummy, it's all right,' Merlyn assured her huskily, her gaze still fixed on Rand. 'Really it is.'

  Some of the tension seemed to leave Rand's body, the arrogance fading a little too as he looked at her mother with new eyes. 'I hope I haven't sounded disrespectful, Mrs Summers.' His voice had softened cajolingly. 'It's just that I only learnt this evening of Merlyn's accident and my concern for her made me forget my manners. I'm Brandon Carmichael.' He held out his hand in a gesture of friendship.

  Her mother seemed dazed by this sudden change in him, so much so that she didn't even correct him about the way he addressed her as Mrs rather than Dr as she would have done most other people who had dared to make that mistake. 'Angela Summers,' she returned abruptly.

  He held her hand in a firm grip before releasing it. 'I should have instantly realised who you were; the likeness between you and Merlyn is unmistakable.'

  She gave an acknowledging inclination of her head. 'As my daughter is very beautiful I'll take that as a compliment.'

  'Please do,' he invited gruffly. 'It was meant as one.'

  She did something then that she probably hadn't done for years; she blushed. Thank you. But I really must insist that Merlyn is not up to visitors, especially this time of night,' she added reprovingly. 'You should have—'

  'Please, Mummy.' Merlyn's gaze hadn't left Rand's face even for a moment, her interest quickening as he told her mother he had known nothing about her accident until today. It seemed impossible to believe—but oh, how she wanted to believe it! The fact that he was here now filled her with hope. 'Rand and I are—old friends,' she explained softly.

  Auburn brows rose over hazel eyes. 'I see,' her mother said slowly, looking at Rand with new eyes too now before picking up her jacket from the back of the chair she had been sitting in. 'Well, he's certainly an improvement on Mark Hillier,' she announced haughtily before nodding coolly to Rand and kissing Merlyn goodbye. 'See you tomorrow, darling.'

  For a moment after her departure Rand continued to stand just outside the room, then he gave a rueful shrug. 'She isn't quite what I was expecting.' He stood beside the bed now. 'She was like an eagle protecting her young!'

  'I've been surprised by her behaviour the last few days too,' Merlyn nodded. 'Maybe I've always misjudged her or maybe she's just mellowed. Whatever the reason, we seem to be friends for a change. Did you mean it?' She probed abruptly.

  Rand's expression was suddenly wary. 'What?'

  'About not knowing I was in hospital.' Merlyn's breathing was shallow as she waited for his answer.

  'I only read about it in the newspaper tonight,' he replied without hesitation.

  'But—'

  'When I left you that night I did intend going to London and staying there,' he declared heavily. 'But once I got there I couldn't settle, and so I got on a plane the next morning. To the States.'

  'But Anne must have—'

  'She had no idea where I was,' he sighed heavily. 'I just went. I didn't tell her or anyone else where I was going. I needed time to think, without interruptions. But it didn't solve anything, and when I got into the airport earlier the first thing I saw was your photograph on the front page of the newspapers!' His expression was grim. 'I went straight to see Anne when I got back, and apparently she hadn't told you she couldn't reach me because she didn't want to worry you.' He shook his head. 'You must have thought me a callous bastard not to have even come and seen you!'

  'Not callous—'

  'Then a bastard,' he declared. 'My God, Merlyn,' he grated harshly. 'I didn't know what to think when they said you had been seriously burnt.'

  'Well, as you can see,' she dismissed lightly, warmed by his genuine concern, 'the newspapers exaggerated—as usual.'

  His darkened gaze moved slowly down the length of her exposed legs. 'I don't think they exaggerated at all,' he rasped. 'And if James hadn't found you when he did…!'

  'Please!' Merlyn shuddered as he spoke of the realisation she herself had made, and that had haunted her, ever since she regained consciousness.

  'I'm sorry for reminding you of it,' he groaned, sitting on the edge of her bed to clasp her hands.

  'You're the third person to do that today, and it's against the rules,' she mocked, a catch in her voice.

  'What is?' He tilted his head enquiringly.

  'Sitting on the bed,' she told him huskily, very conscious of her hand in his, of the roughened palms and gentle fingers. 'Liza and Christopher both did it earlier when they visited,'

  He raised dark brows. 'Together?'

  'Briefly,' she nodded, her eyes becoming shadowed as she remembered how she had upset Christopher. 'They managed to sneak in while my mother was having her lunch,' she added lightly.

  Rand released her hand to stand up abruptly and move away from her. 'She is pretty formidable.'

  'Yes.' Merlyn watched him anxiously, sensing he had more on his mind than the fire that had burnt her.

  He turned suddenly, his expression bleak. 'I think it's only fair that I tell you now that my time away changed nothing; I still believe I have nothing to give you!'

  What little hope she had nurtured because of his visit tonight died a sad death. She had hoped, just because he had come to her— But they had been lovers, and he was gentleman enough to acknowledge that relationship by a courtesy visit to make sure she was all right after her ordeal.

  'One thing did become apparent, though,' he revealed. 'I think—I know I owe you more of an explanation than the one I gave you the other night.'

  She swallowed hard. 'Still being in love with your wife isn't enough?'

  'No,' he bit out. 'You said that you love me, and—I owe you the whole truth so that you'll hate me as much as I hate myself.' He put his hand into the breast pocket of his jacket to take out a small blue book. 'It's the last notebook Suzie wrote,' he grated, a nerve pulsing in his cheek. 'The one I didn't give to Anne,' he clarified. 'I want you to take it, and I want you to read it.'

  Her eyes widened as he held it out to her. 'I couldn't do that, it's too personal.' She shook her head, her hands remaining clasped in front of her.

  'I want you to,' he nodded, dropping the book down on to the bed. 'Then you'll know everything and you wo
n't love me any more.'

  She looked down at the small blue book warily, wondering what it could possibly contain that could turn her feelings for Rand around completely. Details of his infidelity, perhaps? If that were what Suzie believed she had been wrong, Rand had told her he was always faithful to his wife, and she believed him. There was nothing that Suzie could have written that would make her stop loving Rand.

  'It doesn't matter what's in this book, Rand.' She sat forward earnestly. 'Can't you understand that it isn't important?'

  'Oh, it's important,' he breathed heavily. 'And if I could tell you myself and know that you hate me I would, but I—' He ran a shaking hand across his brow. 'I have trouble living with it; I can't actually put into words the horror of what I did!'

  Merlyn gave a pained frown at his self-hatred. 'Does Anne know?'

  He drew in a rasping breath. 'Some of it,' he revealed gruffly. 'But not all.'

  'But she doesn't hate you.' She shook her head. 'She loves you too.'

  'I told you, she doesn't know it all,' he sighed, his hands thrust into his pockets. 'Suzie's gone, and I can't have you, but I need some people that care in my life. Read the book, Merlyn, and send it back to me when you've finished it. I can assure you, you won't want to see me again yourself.' The last was added bitterly.

  Merlyn couldn't imagine anything she was told or read making that true. 'Rand—'

  'Do you think Hillier had anything to do with the fire?' he cut in abruptly, the subject of the notebook closed as far as he was concerned; she would read it.

  'Mark?' she echoed dazedly, momentarily thrown off balance.

  'Anne said the fire was contained to one suite.' His eyes were narrowed. 'Yours.'

  'Apparently the police have decided a smouldering cigarette started it,' she dismissed, the subject of the fire still a traumatic one for her.

  'Left by the maid,' Rand nodded. 'Anne told me. But she checked, the maid didn't smoke,' he explained softly. 'Although obviously the person who did leave the cigarette in your bin didn't realise there was a different maid on duty that evening.'

  Mark was friendly with one of the maids, he had said so when he repeated that gossip to her by the pool, but even so she couldn't believe he could have set the fire. He didn't like her, and he enjoyed watching her squirm, but she didn't think he actually wanted to kill her. That would be just too weird.

  'I think you're wrong about Mark being involved, Rand.' She gave a shake of her head. 'It was just an accident—'

  'There have been too many accidents lately concerning you,' said Rand grimly.

  'Yes, but—'

  'Don't be surprised if the police actually decide to pay you another visit some time soon—'

  'The police?' Merlyn questioned disbelievingly. 'But I've already spoken to them, the day after the fire, they didn't seem to think there was anything suspicious about it—carelessness, perhaps, but not intent.'

  'I don't happen to agree,' Rand told her arrogantly. 'And I'm going to make sure they reopen their investigation.'

  'Rand, I think you're being a bit extreme about this,' she chided.

  'I don't,' he said with finality. 'The next time something like this happens you might not be so lucky. If almost drowning and then being burnt to death can be classed as lucky!' His expression was harshly forbidding, his eyes narrowed.

  'Drowning?' Merlyn repeated blankly, her expression clearing as she realised he meant that night by the gazebo. 'But that was an accident, the planking had rotted away—'

  'I went over the next morning and checked.' He shook his head. 'I couldn't be sure but there was a possibility that the planks had been cut, the wood was certainly sound. I was going to have it checked by someone who knows what they're looking for later that day, but it was repaired before I could get back to it and the wood thrown away. But after the coincidence of the fire only being in your room, I have a feeling my suspicions about that planking having been cut may have been right.'

  'But why?'

  He shrugged. 'Hillier has a perfect motive-revenge.'

  'I can't believe that,' she disagreed. 'It's too fantastic!'

  'I can think of better ways of describing it,' Rand drawled.

  'But anyone could have fallen through the planking if it had been cut as you say you think it could have been,' she reasoned.

  'It wasn't just anyone who was scheduled to step out of the boat on to that very spot the next day,' he reminded her grimly. 'Obviously, with all those people about there was no actual chance of your drowning, but it would have shaken you up pretty badly.'

  It did sound feasible when he explained it like that. But could it be true? Could Mark have done that to her? 'My mother said James and a "young man" helped me out of my room the other night.' She swallowed hard, very pale. 'Who was it?'

  'Hillier,' Rand revealed gruffly—as Merlyn had known he would.

  'Oh, Rand…!' The room swayed dizzily and she was grateful for the solidity of his arms as they came about her. 'I just can't believe anyone would want to do this to me. It can't be true, can it?'

  'I'm hoping not! I've tried not to believe it.'

  She looked up at him searchingly, sure she had heard more than just concern for a friend in his voice. A shutter came down over his emotions as he put her firmly away from him.

  'I have to go,' he told her abruptly. 'And you should get some rest, otherwise your mother might decide I'm not an improvement on anyone,' he added lightly.

  'But—'

  'Read the notebook, Merlyn,' he rasped. 'It's the last month of Suzie's life.'

  She fell back against the pillows. The last month of Suzie's life?

  Long after Rand had gone she stared at the small blue notebook. Rand said it would make her hate him as he deserved to be hated. And she didn't want to hate him!

  She picked up the book to push it into the drawer in her bedside unit, closing it again firmly, turning her face away from it as she tried to go to sleep.

  It was a very long night.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  'You should have seen Mark's face as they carted him away,' Liza giggled.

  'Oh yes, it was very funny,' Christopher snarled from the other side of the room as he glowered at the two women: Merlyn lying on the bed, Liza sitting on a chair at her side. 'My female star is in hospital,' he strode forcefully into the room, 'and my male star is "helping the police with their enquiries" because she's in hospital!'

  Liza gave a disgusted sniff. 'I was just sorry they didn't take him away in handcuffs!'

  Christopher scowled at her as he helped himself to one of the grapes from the bag that lay on the bed. 'The publicity is going to kill this film before it's even made,' he groaned.

  'Better that than Merlyn,' Liza reminded him hardly. 'Besides, you know damn well everyone will want to see the film now.'

  He looked at her coldly. 'I've always thought it very unladylike to hear a woman swear.'

  She shrugged unconcernedly. 'Then it's as well I didn't ask for your approval, isn't it?'

  Merlyn thought it was time she intervened in the exchange, before the two of them actually came to blows. 'I'm so pleased to see you, Christopher,' she told him with genuine warmth.

  He shrugged. 'I received a message that you wanted to talk to me.'

  She had tried twice this morning to reach him at the hotel, once before the police came to talk to her, and once again afterwards, finally leaving a message for him to call her. Since Liza had arrived and told her of the furore at the hotel this morning after Merlyn had spoken to the police, Mark accompanying them down to the station so that they might question him further about her 'accidents', she hadn't expected Christopher to answer her calls personally, sure he would be very busy handling the press.

  Liza grimaced. 'Is this my cue to say I have a script to study?' she observed wryly.

  'I shouldn't bother,' muttered a disgruntled Christopher. 'In the circumstances it would be a waste of time. This is all your friend Carmichael's doing, you k
now,' he told Merlyn accusingly.

  'He isn't my friend.' Her cheeks were flushed.

  'Lover, then. He—'

  'Not that either,' she refuted sharply.

  'It's finally over then?' Christopher raised dark blond brows.

  'That's no one's business but my own!'

  'Well, he's certainly stirred up a hornets' nest,' Christopher muttered. 'My schedule has gone to pot!'

  'Heaven forbid you should put him through the inconvenience of almost being burnt to death because of someone's maliciousness!' Liza raised her eyes heavenwards before giving Christopher a disgusted look. 'You're inhuman!'

  'So I've been told,' he drawled, raising his brows at her pointedly.

  'All right.' She stood up indignantly. 'I'm going. Just don't upset her, her mother said she needs to rest today. Anne and James said to tell you they would be in tomorrow when you're feeling a little better,' she smiled encouragingly at Merlyn.

  'Thanks for the grapes,' she called after her.

  'My plea—Stop that!' Liza slapped Christopher's hand as he would have reached for another one from the bag. 'If you're ever in hospital I'll send you a pet scorpion; you'll be good company for each other!' she told him sweetly, giving Merlyn a triumphant smile as she went out the door.

  'I somehow get the feeling she doesn't like me,' Christopher commented before putting another grape into his mouth.

  'Too much of a challenge for you?' she teased.

  'No challenge at all,' he dismissed dryly. 'If she hates me, she hates me. Besides, she has something going with Greg,' he shrugged.

  Merlyn sobered. 'I've been trying to contact you since yesterday so that I could apologise for my behaviour then.' She looked at him regretfully. 'I said some very unkind things to you and—'

  'Please don't apologise,' Christopher sighed. 'With my male star as good as arrested I'm beginning to wish I had been the one to do it for the publicity!'

 

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