Fallen Angel

by Anne Mather

  So many problems, she reflected wearily, in her lower spirits. And all of them seemingly insoluble. Perhaps she should have stayed at the convent. Life there had been uneventful, it was true, but at least she had not had this burden of guilt to bear. Perhaps she ought to write and ask the nuns if they would take her back. Sanctuary sounded very sweet to someone robbed of all self-respect.

  Because she started work at eight-thirty, Alexandra was always up first in the mornings. Mrs Beesley would prepare her coffee and toast, and then disappear downstairs to attend to her husband’s breakfast. Mr Beesley worked as commissionaire to a block of offices, and Alexandra sometimes saw him when she was leaving, erect and militarysmart in his uniform. He would raise a hand in greeting, and she would wish him ‘Good morning’, and then they would go on their way, she to walk to the coffee bar, and he to catch the tube to the Barbican.

  One morning towards the end of June, Alexandra slept in, and it was gone eight-thirty when she came down the steps of the house. Seeing the man coming up the area steps, she thought Mr Beesley must have slept in, too, and she had opened her mouth to commiserate with him before she realised that the thick dark hair and sun-bronzed skin were not those of the housekeeper’s husband. Besides, the expensive suede suit was not the sort of thing a man in his sixties would wear, and the broad shoulders and lean, muscular body moved with the lithe grace of a much younger man.

  Although she needed no second look to recognise who it was, Alexandra could not drag her eyes away from him, and it was only as she felt the metal of the handrail digging into her still-tender palms that she realised she had paused in mid-flight.

  Jason climbed the area steps and halted on the path below her, tall and disturbingly familiar. She realised she knew every detail of his face, from the lines that bracketed his mouth to the thickness of his lashes, and his nearness was almost her undoing. She wished he would speak. She wished he would say something—anything—to explain what he was doing there, and whether he was alone. He seemed tired, she fretted anxiously, and perhaps he had lost a little weight, but he was still the only man who could send the blood thundering through her veins, and turn her bones to water.

  ‘So you are up,’ he commented at last, hardly the words she had expected him to use, and she nodded jerkily, saying:

  ‘Actually, I’m late. I’m usually out of the house before this. Unfortunately, I slept in.’

  She didn’t add that the reason she had overslept was because she had cried herself to sleep the night before, but Jason’s shrewd gaze lingered on the dark rings around her eyes, and the slight puffiness that betrayed her distress.

  ‘Oh, yes…’ Jason put his foot on the first step and came a little nearer. ‘Your famous job at the coffee bar. I hadn’t forgotten about that.’

  Alexandra gasped. ‘How did you know I had a job? Oh, I see…’ Her mouth took on a mutinous curve. ‘Miss Holland told you. She promised—’

  ‘Miss Holland didn’t tell me a thing,’ contradicted Jason flatly, taking another step until there was only the space of one slab of concrete between them. ‘Although I would have expected her to, knowing I trusted her.’

  Alexandra stepped to one side. ‘Well, if that’s why you’ve come—’

  ‘It’s not,’ he retorted, sidestepping himself to block her path. ‘Shall we go inside?’

  Alexandra drew a deep breath. ‘I—I can’t. I’ve just told you, I’m late. Mr Stefanos doesn’t approve of unpunctuality. I’m sorry if you’ve chosen the wrong time to catch me—’

  ‘I didn’t choose the time,’ he told her, deliberately taking the final step that brought his body into touching distance of hers, or would have done if she had not hung back. ‘I came straight here from the airport.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I arrived from Rio a little over an hour ago.’

  Alexandra’s mouth was dry. She didn’t know why he had come, or how he had found out about her job. Unless it was from Manuel. But he had promised not to interfere…

  ‘Jason, please—’

  ‘No. You please—me!’ he declared harshly, and reached for her handbag. ‘I assume you do have keys in here, do you?’

  ‘Don’t! I mean—you have no right…’

  ‘Don’t I?’ His tone was grim. ‘I think your landlord would disagree with you there,’ he retorted, and finding her key, he inserted it in the lock.

  ‘Oh, you—you—’ Alexandra could think of no adjective suitable to her opinion of him in that moment, stripping away as he was her last vestiges of self-respect, but Jason wasn’t even listening to her. Instead, he caught her wrist in a vice-like grip when she would have escaped him, and practically dragged her into the hall behind him.

  ‘If you think because you pay the lease—’ she began tremulously, as the door slammed shut behind them, but Jason pulled her after him, across the hall and into the sunlit elegance of the drawing room. Only then did he release her, but he made sure she was in the centre of the room, while he positioned himself behind the closed door.

  ‘Now,’ he said, folding his arms, ‘before we discuss the matter of your resignation, suppose you tell me how you perpetrated this little fraud?’ And from his pocket he drew the small white envelope with Reverend Mother’s handwriting upon it.

  Alexandra’s legs were like jellies as she stared at that small square of parchment. He had found out, then, she thought dully. Even though she had left San Gabriel, even though she had cut herself off from everything she held most dear, Estelita had still found it necessary to betray her.

  ‘That—that’s a letter from Sainte Sœur,’ she murmured, playing for time. ‘I—I recognise the handwriting.’

  ‘Do you?’ He inclined his head. ‘I believe you also know what the letter contains.’

  ‘I—well, I know of it,’ she faltered. Then, as if appealing to him at this late date would do no good, she added: ‘I—I’m not ashamed of what I did. It—it was worth it, even if—even if you do despise me now. I—I would do it again…’

  ‘Would you?’ He raised dark eyebrows.

  ‘Yes. And—and Estelita promised me you would never see that letter.’

  ‘Let’s leave Estelita for the time being, shall we?’ Jason’s mouth tightened. ‘I’d like to know how you managed to get your father to write that letter.’

  ‘Oh.’ Alexandra was disconcerted. ‘Well, I—I wrote all his letters for him, you see. He—he didn’t have a steady hand, and he only signed them.’

  ‘Ah,’ Jason nodded. ‘Now I begin to understand.’

  ‘I—I wanted to tell you,’ she said wretchedly, needing to say something. ‘But you already resented the responsibility…’

  ‘Did I do that?’

  ‘You know you did.’ She sighed. ‘If only I’d been a boy!’

  ‘Indeed.’ Jason inclined his head, and she could not see his expression.

  Alexandra felt even worse. ‘Why did you come here?’ she appealed. ‘If—if it’s the money…’

  ‘What money?’ Jason looked at her, but she could not meet his gaze.

  ‘Supporting me and—and Miss Holland,’ she ventured, and grew hot all over when he left the door to walk slowly across to her.

  ‘Of course,’ he said, halting before her. ‘What else could it be?’

  Her eyes darted nervously toward his face, but his expression was as enigmatic as ever, and she licked at her dry lips. ‘Who—who told you I was working?’ she asked. ‘If it wasn’t Miss Holland, it must have been Manuel. Did—did you send him here to—to spy on me?’

  ‘You think I’d do a thing like that?’ he probed, a trace of amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth, and it came to her in a flash that he was playing with her now, like a cat plays with a mouse. Whatever reason had brought him to London, Estelita must have had something to do with it, and she must be very sure of him if she dared to send him here alone.

  ‘How—how is Estelita?’ she asked, not really caring, but wanting to wipe that mocking smile from his face, and his eyes narr
owed.

  ‘I expect she’s very well,’ he replied at last. ‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her for over a week.’

  Alexandra stared at him then, but it was useless trying to read his expression, and with a little cry she turned her back on him, trying desperately not to jump to conclusions. But when his hands descended on her shoulders, she didn’t resist him, and the feel of his long length behind her was at once an agony and a delight.

  ‘Alexandra,’ he murmured, and there was no mistaking the emotion now that thickened his tones. ‘Oh, Alexandra, why did you let me send you away? Have you any idea what it’s been like without you? And when Ricardo told me you had got a job—’

  ‘Ricardo!’

  ‘Yes, Ricardo. Your Miss Holland was very shrewd. She didn’t write me that you imagined I didn’t know about that letter from Sainte Sœur, or that you had decided not to come back to San Gabriel. She wrote to Ricardo, knowing full well it was he as much as anybody who had prevented me from riding roughshod over any qualms I might have had about your youth and marrying you!’

  ‘Jason?’ She twisted round in his arms then to stare at him disbelievingly. ‘I—is that true?’

  ‘Would I lie to you?’ he demanded, unable to resist the urge to touch her temples with his lips.

  ‘But—you said we needed time…’

  ‘I said you needed time,’ he muttered, unfastening the buttons of her blouse with fingers that shook a little. ‘But, by God!’ he bent his head to her breast, ‘I think I’ve given you enough, don’t you?’

  For several minutes, Alexandra could not reply. With Jason covering her face with kisses and seeking the moist sweetness of her mouth, she could think of little but him, and the hardness of his body that even the suede suit could not disguise. Somehow his waistcoat was unbuttoned, and the silkiness of his shirt was a sensuous abrasion to her breasts, while his hands threaded themselves through her hair and caressed the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulders. They were hungry for each other, and only the awareness that Miss Holland might hear them and come to investigate made Alexandra eventually draw back.

  His eyes glazed with emotion, Jason was loath to let her go, pulling her down on to the couch beside him, imprisoning her yielding body beneath his.

  ‘Miss Holland…’ murmured Alexandra, only half protesting now, and Jason rubbed his tongue across the tip of her nose.

  ‘I have words to say to Miss Holland later,’ he said. ‘Somehow I don’t think she’ll be too surprised to see me.’

  Alexandra blinked, trying hard to think coherently. ‘You—did you say—I imagined you didn’t know about the letter from the convent?’ she breathed, and with a sigh, he rolled to one side of her and took meticulous care over fastening the buttons of her blouse.

  ‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘We’ll talk. But afterwards…’

  His eyes left her in no doubt as to his meaning. Unguarded, they were warm and intimate, and her heart leapt in her throat at the realisation that she had aroused those emotions in him.

  ‘First of all,’ he said, unfastening his tie and pulling it off with evident relief, ‘let me tell you about Estelita.’

  ‘What did you mean when you said you hadn’t seen her for a week? You said you only arrived from Rio an hour ago.’

  ‘I did.’ He stroked her mouth with a teasing finger. ‘Be patient, and I’ll explain.’ She nodded and he went on: ‘To begin with, we’ll deal with the letter, shall we? I gather Estelita pretended I knew nothing about it.’

  ‘That’s right. She did.’ Alexandra’s eyes were wide.

  ‘Well, that was—how do they put it?—a bloody lie!’ His lips twitched at her shocked expression. ‘My darling, Ricardo collected my mail that day, not Estelita. She doesn’t have that kind of authority. My God, knowing her as I do, I would never trust her with my private affairs.’

  He paused, and Alexandra recalled again how infuriated the housekeeper had been when she had found her in Jason’s study.

  ‘Anyway, to continue…Ricardo collected the mail, as I say, and naturally he gave the letter to me. If you remember, I had to drive to Puerto Novo to fetch the doctor, and consequently it was almost supper time before I got around to reading it.’

  Alexandra pressed her lips together. ‘Were you very angry?’

  Jason half smiled. ‘Do you remember coming downstairs and finding me in the hall? I’d just read the letter then, and my thoughts were full of it. Then you said you were leaving, and I guess my feelings showed.’

  Alexandra recalled the occasion very well. ‘I thought you acted strangely,’ she murmured reflectively. ‘As if—as if you had expected me to act—differently.’

  Jason sighed, tracing the line of her jaw with his lips. ‘I did.’ He touched the corner of her mouth. ‘After reading that letter, I would have cut out my tongue before I sent you away!’

  ‘Jason!’

  Her lips parted, and for a long moment there was silence in the room. Then he stirred himself sufficiently to say: ‘Can you not understand? I realised how desperate you must have been to write that letter, and when you said you were leaving…I was shattered.’

  ‘If only you’d told me!’

  ‘If only,’ he agreed softly. ‘I did try. The morning you were leaving, I came to your room before you were up. I knocked long enough. You must have heard me. But you didn’t answer.’

  Alexandra propped herself up on one elbow to stare down at him. ‘But the morning I was leaving I was up early, terribly early. I was down at the stables at first light.’

  Jason closed his eyes. ‘So that was why—’

  ‘I thought you seemed angry when you came in to breakfast and found me already there.’

  ‘I was.’ Jason’s fingers curved round her nape. ‘I was sure then you must have heard me. And then when you shook hands…’ He squeezed her neck cruelly for a moment. ‘Dear God, you’ve given me some bad moments!’ He pulled her down to him for a moment and punished her very satisfactorily, and then he added huskily: ‘If I had known what Estelita had done, I’d have killed her.’

  ‘You never found out?’

  ‘How could I? She wasn’t likely to tell me, and you had forced Miss Holland’s hand.’

  Alexandra hesitated. ‘She—she said she was going to get you to marry her. She said—even if she had to get pregnant—’

  ‘Oh, God!’ Jason buried his face in her hair. ‘To get pregnant you have to do more than cook a man’s meals or do his laundry,’ he averred roughly. ‘And that’s all Estelita has been doing for me.’

  Alexandra’s lips trembled. ‘She said—’

  ‘I don’t care what she said. I’m not saying I haven’t entertained ideas of going to bed with her. I have. But like I said to you on one famous occasion, I never make those kind of commitments. To be crude, it’s far too easy to drive into Puerto Novo or Valvedra, if I have to.’

  Alexandra’s cheeks burned. ‘Did you—did you after—after—’

  ‘After the night of the storm?’ he enquired dryly. ‘My dear child, I have no intention of satisfying you on that score. But if you remember, I had other things to worry about.’

  ‘The mountain lion!’ she exclaimed. ‘Have you caught her?’

  Jason nodded. ‘Ricardo shot her the week after you left. It was an unfortunate affair. One of the men had injured her on a hunting trip. They’d gone out after geese, and Carlos was never a marksman. Of course, she had to poach to survive. She must have been in great pain.’

  ‘Poor thing!’ Alexandra was moved, although she could still remember her terror in the canyon.

  ‘Yes,’ Jason nodded. ‘Anyway, returning to Estelita, Ricardo had this letter from Miss Holland some time before he told me. He knew Manuel was going to Rome, so he had him stop off and see what was happening for himself. When Manuel confirmed the gist of what Miss Holland had said, Ricardo decided that much against his better judgment I would have to be told.’

  He shook his head. ‘I won’t bore you with the de
tails of what he and I said to one another, or indeed the scene I had with Estelita. Sufficient to say, she packed her bags at once, and Ricardo drove her back to Valvedra.’

  ‘Oh, Jason!’ Alexandra couldn’t help feeling a twinge of pity for the Spanish woman.

  ‘She’ll make out,’ Jason replied laconically. ‘She has her brother to care for, and her mother will be coming out of hospital soon.’ He pulled a wry face. ‘She could never get it into her head that I had no intention of marrying again.’

  Alexandra’s lips parted at this and he bent to cover them with his own. ‘Don’t jump to conclusions,’ he said. ‘I said I had no intention of marrying again. Unfortunately, that was before I met you.’

  Alexandra linked her arms around his neck. ‘And when did you decide to come back to England?’

  ‘Immediately. But it wasn’t that easy. I have an estancia to run, and it’s nearing lambing time.’ He sighed. ‘You see the trouble you put me to! Like a fool, I jump on the first plane, take a taxi to Mountsey Square, dump my luggage with Mrs Beesley—and then face a fiery virago!’

  Alexandra’s eyes appealed for his understanding. ‘I thought—oh, I don’t know what I thought. And I was late.’

  ‘You’re even later now,’ remarked Jason smugly. ‘You’ll probably lose your job. That will save you the necessity of resigning.’

  ‘You’re very sure of me.’

  He grimaced. ‘Am I? You wouldn’t turn me down now, would you?’

  For a moment he had a vulnerability that was disturbingly attractive, and she pressed herself closer to him. ‘What do you think?’ she breathed, and his mouth sought the eagerness of hers.

  ‘Well…’ he said at last, and she could feel the tremor that went through him as he strove for control, ‘Ricardo can only cope for a few days. Is that enough?’

  ‘Enough?’

  ‘To pack?’ he demanded. ‘I want to marry you. But not here. In Puerto Novo, in the church there. Just as soon as I can get a licence.’