Some Sort of Spell

by Frances Roding

  over her ribcage, pausing to measure the frantic thud of her heart before gently cupping the full swell of her breast.

  A confusion of sensations jammed her thoughts: shock widened her eyes, tension locked her throat, panic and shame blurring her eyes as she felt the traitorous response of her flesh to that too-knowing male touch, and reaUsed how easily EUiott's hand cupped the fullness of her breast.

  As if the shock of all that wasn't enough, his thumb stroked softly over the satin just where it rested against her nipple. She wasn't so naive that she knew nothing about the workings of the human body, but that her own body should respond so vibrantly and instantly was shaming in the extreme, and with a kind of sick fascination she watched as the subtle caress of EUiott's thumb caused her nipple to push provocatively against the jade satin as if it actively sought the continuation of his tormenting stimulation.

  Hazel eyes blind with shock and shame, Beatrice trembled visibly.

  ElKott's head blotted out the light, mercifully concealing her own body from her sight, his mouth against her ear as he whispered laconically, 'Why so shocked? You must have experienced this before—and enjoyed it. Or is it because the giver of the pleasure is me? Well, Til tell you something that will shock you even more.' His voice seemed to have hardened, a peculiar tension emanating from his body that even in her stunned state she registered. Tm enjoying it too. So much so that...' His voice became muffled and distant as he pushed

  her back against her seat, his fingers easing the satin fabric aside so that his mouth could caress the bared flesh of her breast.

  She shuddered, unable to control that small betraying spasm of mingled shock and pleasure.

  Against her will, she felt her spine arch. A small sob of horror locked in her throat as she raised her hands to push him away and found her wrists gripped in powerful fingers that forced her arms to drop impotently away while his mouth continued to explore the soft swell of her breast, all the time edging closer and closer to the betraying thrust of her nipple.

  The moon emerged from behind a cloud, illuminating the inside of the car as Beatrice looked helplessly down on Elhott's sleek dark head.

  Although he was using his superior strength to prevent her from pushing him away, the soul-deep honesty she possessed, which had never been part of the Bellaire personality, forced her to admit that there was a mindless, almost savage pleasure to be found in his deliberate ravishment of her senses; a dangerous and frightening urge to respond recklessly to her female conditioning that ached to be free to respond to the deliberate incitement of his mouth.

  She had to fight hard to remember that this was Elliott caressing her, Elliott who never did anything without a subtle purpose, but she resisted the shaming desire to arch eagerly against the mind-destroying pleasure offered by his mouth and instead remained stoically unmoving as his mouth moved delicately towards its goal.

  For the first time in her life she knew what it meant actually to feel a silence. The atmosphere inside the car was such that she hardly dared to breathe lest she betrayed herself, but when ElUott's mouth found the goal it sought and closed over it with a thick sound of satisfaction she was powerless to stop the surge of sensation shooting through her.

  Elliott had released her arms, but she was powerless to lift them to push him away. It took every ounce of concentration she had to suppress the shudders of pleasure pulsing through her as his hands smoothed aside the satin of her blouse to completely expose her breasts.

  Even so, Elliott was the one who heard the car coming down the drive and reacted to it, drawing away from her and covering her with her blouse in one swift movement, but when she turned in panic for the car door he stopped her, shaking his head and saying quietly, *Wait a few minutes. You can't go in yet.'

  She was just about to object when she glanced down and saw the shaming evidence of the pleasure he had given her straining against the fabric of her shirt. Her whole body went hot with embarrassment, and as Elliott reached towards her, she pulled away tensely.

  She was desperate to get away from him. Her whole body felt scorched with shame and humiliation. She wasn't sure what he had been trying to prove in making her respond to him Hke that. She was just about to demand that he let her out of the

  car, when Lucilla knocked on the passenger window.

  Elliott released the electronic mechanism, opening it.

  *What are you two doing sitting out here?' She glared malevolently at Beatrice.

  *We were just chatting.'

  Toor Elliott, you must be really enjoying being a martyr,' Lucilla commented acidly.

  Beatrice swallowed the hard lump that seemed to be stuck in her throat. She didn't need Lucilla to underline her shortcomings for her.

  She wasn't going to demean herself by demanding an explanation from Elhott, she decided tiredly. That was probably just what he wanted her to do. EUiott enjoyed playing cat-and-mouse games, only this time the mouse wasn't going to play. Oh, no doubt he had enjoyed her naivete and her embarrassment, and no doubt he would have equally enjoyed baiting her while she tried to find an explanation for his extraordinary behaviour, but she wasn't going to give him the opportunity to do so.

  When he opened the window Elliott had released the door lock, and now she opened the door and got out, saying as calmly as she could, *I really must go in. I don't want to oversleep again tomorrow.'

  Remarkably she managed to make it to her room without being intercepted by anyone.

  Loud pop music thundered out of Mirry's room, and since neither of the twins' cars had been outside she assumed they must still be out. William would be asleep. She counted herself fortunate that none

  of her too-sharp-eyed family had witnessed her return.

  Only when she was protectively wrapped in her cotton nightdress and huddled beneath the bedcovers did Beatrice judge it safe to allow herself to think about those bewildering moments in Elliott's car.

  How he would laugh at her if he knew that his had been the first male lips to caress her so intimately, and no doubt he would be even more amused to know that she was still affected by the memory of his touch.

  She had no idea what deep game he was playing with her, but one thing she did know was that she would be wise to give him as little opportunity to indulge in it as possible.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was a decision Beatrice kept very much to the forefront of her mind for the next couple of days, carefully juggling her schedules so that she came into as little contact with Elliott as possible.

  A letter arrived on Thursday morning addressed to her which momentarily banished Elliott from her thoughts. She opened it after breakfast, and gnawed uncertainly at her bottom lip as she studied its contents.

  She would, so Henrietta Parker informed her, be arriving to take up her new position with the family on Saturday morning.

  As yet Beatrice had not broken the news to her sibhngs that she, or rather Elhott, had found them a new housekeeper, and she suspected from various comments that had been dropped since Mrs Mead-ows's abdication that the news would not be well received.

  William had confided artlessly only the previous teatime that he much preferred her cooking to Mrs Meadows's, and Benedict had told her winningly over breakfast one morning that no one could iron his cotton shirts as well as she could.

  Out of the corner of her eye Beatrice had seen the pages of Elliott's Financial Times flicker slightly, but he had made no comment other than to offer drily, 'You should try Jeeves laundry service, Ben-

  edict. I find them excellent, although of course their services don't come free/

  There had been a distinct glint of temper in Benedict's eyes, she remembered now.

  Even without her own ambivalent feelings towards him, having Elliott in the house was not easy. She winced sometimes when she overheard the sardonic taunts Benedict made to him, but when she had hesitantly suggested to her brother that he might be carrying things rather too far he had shrugged and said lazily, 'Oh, Elliott'
s far too stoical to rise to any bait I might dangle.'

  Exasperated as much by Benedict's inability to understand that she might not care for the almost constant atmosphere in the house as by her fear that EUiott was simply biding his time, she responded rather waspishly that she thought he would have had better things to do with his time.

  'Getting to you, is he, Bea?' he remarked. 'Don't worry, he won't be here much longer. What did he want the other night when he took you out?' he asked casually.

  Beatrice froze. This was the first time any member of her family had conunented on her date with Elliott, and she literally didn't know what to say.

  She was saved, albeit unknowingly, by Mirry, who wandered into the kitchen just in time to catch Benedict's question.

  'Oh, he just wanted to talk to you about what rent he should pay while he's staying here, didn't he, Bea?' she answered for her.

  She knew she was flushing, all too conscious from Benedict's narrow-eyed scrutiny that he suspected she was concealing something from him. Sometimes, when he looked at her Uke that, there was almost something calculating in his expression, and yet Benedict was the least calculating person she knew. Of course he was very protective towards her...too protective sometimes. Guiltily she smothered the thought.

  *You know, Bea, I can't understand why he isn't staying at a hotel. Surely he'd be much more comfortable than living here? And it isn't as though he's short of money. He could easily afford it.'

  *Oh, I thinic Lucilla offered, and I suppose he didn't want to offend her by refusing.'

  Benedict's eyebrows rose as he snorted in derision. 'Come on, Bea! This is Elliott we're talking about. Since when has he ever cared about treading on anyone's toes?'

  For a moment resentment flashed in the brilliant blue eyes, and Beatrice remembered that when he was nineteen Benedict had approached Elliott for a loan to help him buy a fast sports car he coveted. She had felt only relief when Elliott had refused in no uncertain terms, but she realised for the first time that perhaps that refusal still rankled.

  Benedict was not as mature as he liked to think, she decided indulgently. Elliott had acted only in his best interests, able to see, as Benedict apparently still could not, the potential hazard of a powerful car in the hands of a young and unskilled driver.

  *I like having him here,' Mirry interjected.

  ^Because he gives you a lift to work? Or are you hoping for something more from him than simply a free ride, little sister? If so, be warned, he*s way out of your class.'

  The dark head tossed as Mirry showed her contempt of such elder-brotherly concern.

  'I know that. Besides, he's miles too old for me. Anyway, he's better suited to Bea.' She grinned at her sister's shocked expression and said enigmatically, 'I think you've met your match, brother dear.'

  Beatrice tensed as she saw the thunderclouds gather in Benedict's eyes. Of all of them he was the one who had inherited the greatest degree of temperament. He could change from sunny smiles to thunder frowns all within the space of a few seconds. Unlike the stoical WiUiam and the less aggressive Sebastian, he was the one who had clung the hardest after their parents' death.

  *Don't take on this new job, Bea,' he said abruptly now. *We need you here, at home, especially now that we've lost Mrs Meadows.'

  Here was her cue, but even so she almost missed it, leaping into a disorganised flutter of words that made Benedict frown and glower at her.

  'What do you mean—another housekeeper?'

  'I was going to tell you all about it tonight,' she apologised. 'I only had her letter of acceptance this morning. I wasn't sure that she'd want to take the job, even though ElUott...'

  'Elliott?'

  'Well, she was his nanny,' Beatrice told him, 'and when Elliott realised that Mrs Meadows had left he

  suggested she might be prepared to step into her shoes/

  She could tell that Benedict was furious, and she could feel herself tensing in anticipation of a scene. What was it about her that made her so unUke the rest of her family? Where they relished high drama, she dreaded it. All of them apart from her would throw themselves into an argument with careless disregard for its consequences, while all she could do was close her ears and pray that it would soon be over.

  'A nanny?' Benedict now said bitterly. 'Well, thanks very much, Bea! We aren't children, you know.'

  'No? Well, try proving it, and accept that your sister has a right to live her own Ufe, just as much as the rest of you do.'

  The cool intercession of Elliott's voice, just when she was least expecting it, caused Beatrice to tremble violently. She could tell that Benedict was furiously angry, but instead of retaliating as she had expected, he stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door violently behind him.

  'Definitely a case of spare the rod and spoil the child,' Elliott remarked sotto voce as Benedict left. 'I take it you've decided to employ Henrietta, then?'

  'I think it was more a case of her deciding to work for us,' Beatrice told him stiffly, turning to face the sink and busying herself wiping the already clean surfaces. If only he could go away; she felt so dreadfully ill at ease, so humiUatingly aware of what had happened in his car. She could feel her

  skin burning with embarrassed heat and prayed desperately for someone to walk into the kitchen.

  He came to stand behind her and she felt the tiny hairs at the back of her nape lift in atavistic apprehension.

  'Beatrice, I want to talk to you.' His fingers circled her wrist, tugging her round so that she had to face him.

  If he said one word about the other night, she would be sick on the spot, she thought frantically with one half of her brain, while the other acknowledged that she had always known this moment would come, when he would exact the full measure of enjoyment from her humiliation and shame.

  'Come and sit down.'

  She let him lead her over to the table, and sank down into the chair he pulled out for her.

  What was he going to do? Taunt her for her betraying response to him? Tell her why he had done it, why he had so deliberately and effectively aroused her? Numbly she sat there waiting for the blow to fall.

  *I want to talk to you about Lucilla.'

  The shock of his totally unexpected words made her lift her head and stare at him.

  'Lucilla?' She said her half-sister's name as though it was totally foreign to her.

  'Yes, you know, Lucilla, our mutual half-sister. . .and mutual cross,' he added with a trace of sardonic amusement. *I take it she's still seeing this producer she's so keen on?'

  He wanted to talk to her about Lucilla. Beatrice could barely take it in, her brain struggling to accommodate this new information, and the oddly let-down feeling that accompanied it.

  'Yes... at least, I think she is,' she agreed, her mind on automatic pilot. *But it's no good asking me to speak to her, Elliott. She disUkes me as it is, and...'

  *rm not one of your brothers, Beatrice,' he responded rather grimly, 'and I'm perfectly capable of doing my own dirty work, thank you very much. If there's anything to be said to Lucilla, I suspect I'm far more capable of saying it effectively than you. No, what I want from you is your estimation of just how deeply she's involved with this man.'

  As she struggled for self-control, Beatrice wondered wildly if she had strayed into some sort of impossible dream. It was almost as though Elliott was as determined to ignore what had happened between them as she was herself. But why?

  She forced herself to switch her attention from her own problems to those of her half-sister.

  'Well, they're...'

  'Lovers?' EUiott supplied sardonically for her. 'I know that. I'm not interested in the degree of her physical commitment to him, only her emotional vulnerability.' He saw her expression and said sardonically, 'You're wrong, you know. Lucilla is capable of being hurt. Oh, I know she hides it well.'

  'She won't Usten to anything I might say to her. She... she resents me/

  ^Because you're a full Bellaire and she is
n't. Surely you must have reaUsed that years ago? She's always been jealous of you, Beatrice.'

  Lucilla jealous of her? Beatrice opened her mouth to deny it, and then suddenly, perceiving the truth of EUiott's remark, fell silent.

  *You see? You know it's true, even if you've always preferred not to admit it. Lucilla suffers from being neither a true Bellaire nor a true Chalmers—at least in her own eyes. She's just as much a victim of the Bellaire mystique as you are yourself, you know, Bea.' He gave her a few seconds for his remark to sink in and then continued calmly, *Now, I suspect we're both in agreement that she has to be detached from her blood-sucking friend, but how?'

  ^You're the one who seems to have all the answers,' she told him rather bitterly.

  *Mmm... I thank you for that vote of confidence, but in this case, at least, I suspect it's misplaced. How much do you know about the terms of my father's will?'

  Beatrice stared at him.

  ^Nothing.'

  'Mmm. Well, the money he left in trust under my control for Lucilla becomes hers on her thirtieth birthday, or on her marriage, whichever happens first. Horrocks is notoriously short of money. He wants to start up his own production company...'

  *And you think he might marry Lucilla...'

  *To get his hands on her money. Well, it's certainly a possibility, isn't it? And Lucilla is just about

  dense enough to go along with him. Only if she does, I suspect she's going to wake up to reality with a hard bump. Horrocks has had a mistress for years—the wife of a prominent politician who doesn't intend to break up her marriage. It's a relationship that appears to suit them both, but it won't, I suspect, suit Lucilla.'

  *Have you told her any of this?'

  *Not yet. She's not too pleased with me at the moment. I'm afraid I made a foolish mistake—I let her see that I wasn't too happy about the relationship.'

  *I don't see what I can do. She won't listen to anything I say.'

  'I don't want you to say anything. I've managed to find out that Horrocks and his woman friend have dinner once a fortnight at a very small and discreet restaurant in JCnightsbridge. If Lucilla could see them there together, I think that might do the trick.' He gave her an oblique smile. 'It's my birthday next week, and I think it might be a rather nice idea if I took my half-sister and her family out to dinner to celebrate the occasion, and that's where I shall need your help.'