So lightly! Judith looked at him with dislike. 'It's probably thanks to having such a thick skull,' she said sweetly.
'I cannot agree with you there,' he said swiftly, laughter in his eyes. 'It must have been your beautiful hair which saved you from more serious injury.'
'I'll take care not to let anything similar happen a third time,' said Judith acidly.
'A third time?' asked Miss Gresham with interest. 'Has something like this happened to you before, then Judith?'
'Yes, quite recently, but I'm trying to break myself of the habit.' Judith gave Rafael a bright, challenging look, and Miss Gresham smiled, her shrewd blue eyes watching them with enjoyment while Rafael, sudden colour in his face, explained about his first encounter with Judith in the park.
'I did not know who she was until last night,' he said. 'It was a great surprise to look up from the stage and see my mystery lady sitting there beside you, Aunt Vinnie.'
'I see,' said Miss Gresham benignly. 'Now let's enjoy some tea—Judith was just telling me her appetite had returned.'
At once Rafael installed both women at the table, offering Judith a silver plate filled with tempting sandwiches while Miss Gresham poured tea.
'I thought you were on the point of leaving,' Judith said to him as he sat beside her. 'Didn't I read somewhere that all you opera stars lead computerised lives with your programmes mapped out years ahead?'
Rafael's face went blank.
'Even the computer is at the mercy of human fallibility occasionally, Miss Russell.'
'I'm sure she won't mind if we all call her Judith,' interrupted Miss Gresham, and held out her hand for Rafael's cup. 'Let me give you some tea, dear boy.'
He drank it sugarless, and with lemon, Judith noticed idly, and wondered how he came to be in Hardwick for such a protracted spell.
'Are you on holiday, Mr David?' she asked, more in the line of keeping up a conversation than from any real interest.
'I will answer only if you call me Rafael,' he said with emphasis. 'And I am not precisely on holiday.'
'More like a spot of sick leave—which makes you two invalids together,' said Miss Gresham cheerfully.
Judith gave a surreptitious glance at the lithe, athletic figure beside her, surprised. Anything less like an invalid was hard to imagine.
'A slight fatigue of the throat,' he said, in response to her unspoken question. 'The rest of my body is as usual.'
Pretty fantastic, admitted Judith privately, thinking of him as he had been on stage the night before, but as Don José, not the unhappy Ruggiero. She checked her errant thoughts sharply, having no intention of letting herself dwell on Rafael David in any shape or form. He was a bird of passage, exotic and entirely outside a nice, normal physiotherapist's scheme of things, and would be soon winging on his way again into the frenetic round of opera-houses, hotels and airports that were the fabric of his life, the very thought of which was anathema to her.
'How did the recital go?' asked Judith hurriedly, to change the subject.
'Very well. The church was full—still lots of tourists about. Honor said she'd pick up some things on her way home. She can have the room next to yours.'
'I feel I'm being rather a nuisance over a mere knock on the head,' said Judith uncomfortably.
'You were very foolish to walk home alone,' said Rafael, his voice suddenly harsh. 'When we found you lying there for a moment I thought—'
'Yes, well it wasn't nearly as bad as it looked,' interposed Miss Gresham hastily. 'Fortunately Judith has merely learned a rather painful lesson. Ah, here comes Mrs Carey to clear away—I'll go inside with her and have a talk on the important subject of dinner. We're obliged to eat barbarously early because of this Masque thing.'
'Do you attend everything all week?' asked Judith, impressed.
'I do indeed, unless old age and sheer fatigue stop my gallop towards the latter part. And some things are repeated, of course. I don't sit through things twice.' Miss Gresham leaned forward to pat Rafael's hand. 'Unless you'd like to sing again, Rafael. I could listen to you indefinitely.'
'Thank you, Aunt Vinnie. Alas, I cannot oblige.' He raised her hand to his lips, the look in his eyes tender as he smiled at her.
'Of course not, dear boy, you've already done more than enough—no, don't get up.' With a wave of her hand she went into the house, leaving Judith and Rafael together in a silence which lengthened as the sun sank lower in the sky.
'Did you miss lunch just to avoid me?' he asked at last, his face moody.
'No,' said Judith carefully. 'I really did feel ill—a quite natural result of my adventure last night, I suppose, I'm perfectly all right now. I'm not the best invalid in the world, I confess, probably because I'm hardly ever ill.'
He turned in his chair to look at her, the thickly-lashed eyes regarding her with intensity. 'You gave me the worst fright of my life last night, Judith.'
'I didn't exactly revel in the experience myself.'
'Promise me—you will never walk alone again at night.'
Judith looked away.
'Since I met you in your fancy dress in the park I've lost my taste for running there, and now it seems even walking home has become a hazard,' she said bitterly. 'This time last week life was so uncomplicated. Now it's all changed.'
'You feel that too?' he said swiftly. He took her hand, and caught her chin in his other hand, turning her face gently towards him, his iridescent eyes holding hers. 'When I looked up and saw you in Martin's box at the theatre I almost missed a note. This is not a habit of mine, you understand. I had thought I would never see you again, and the memory of your beautiful, frightened face haunted me after that evening in the park. I was stupid—all I had to do was take off that cursed mask, but for a moment I lost my wits, I was struck dumb—me, Rafael David, with my repertoire of countless roles, could think of nothing to say!'
Judith gazed at him, eyes wide with astonishment at the sudden intensity of his voice, not sure of what he was saying. Was this some new kind of come-on—was this some particular type of technique he found successful with women? But as he leaned closer the familiar scent of him was in her nostrils, and in spite of herself her heart beat faster as she gazed silently into his eyes. She said nothing as Rafael released her chin to take the sunglasses from her gently. He stared at the bruised eyelid below the dressing on her hairline, and leaned forward until his lips touched her cheek below her eye. Judith sat motionless beneath the feather-light touch, knowing she ought to say something flippant, get up and leave, do anything other than just sit here, helpless, but she stayed where she was as his hand touched her bright hair just above the wound.
'Querida,' he said softly, 'I could kill the man who did this—' and his lips moved lower until they rested on hers. Judith's mouth quivered at the contact, and his hands grasped her shoulders fiercely, his mouth deepening its pressure, when the sound of approaching voices forced Rafael to release her. With a choked curse he moved away quickly, rising to his feet as Honor appeared round the corner of the house with Martin. In the flurry of enquiries about the invalid's health Judith managed to regain something like her normal composure, hoping the others noticed nothing amiss. She thrust the sunglasses back on her nose, glad to hide behind them, her dark eyes dazed. Rafael's kiss had startled her considerably, shaking her to the foundations, making her angry now the first shock was wearing off. What a nerve he had, now she came to think of it, making love to her the moment they were alone, as if it were his divine right, or something.
'How lucky you are to be able to dodge this Masque thing tonight,' Martin was saying ruefully. 'It must be nearly in the eighties again this afternoon, and no doubt the Court House will be packed.'
'Enough tickets have been sold for it,' agreed practical Honor, 'though I suppose we can hardly expect an evening like last night. That was unique.'
'It was to your taste, Honor?' asked Rafael, and cast a gleaming look at Judith. 'In all the ensuing drama I did not have an opportunity to ask
you last night. Did you like the music, or are you like your sister—tone deaf?'
'I am not tone deaf,' contradicted Judith. 'Music is something I can take or leave, that's all—which didn't prevent me from enjoying the concert, just the same.'
'It was a magical evening,' said Honor warmly, 'everywhere I've been today it's been the main topic of conversation, except for Judith's horrible adventure, that is.'
'And I'm sure we don't want to discuss that any more,' said Judith quickly. 'Everyone must be bored to tears with the topic by now.'
Honor looked at her searchingly and held out her hand.
'Come on, darling, let's go upstairs and tidy up. Mrs Carey's shown me where I'm sleeping.'
'Join us here for a drink in half an hour or so,' suggested Martin, and yawned. 'I think I'll have a cold shower.'
'I, too,' murmured Rafael, his eyes meeting Judith's. She turned away, her face hot as she followed Honor into the house.
'How are you really?' asked Honor when they were in Judith's room.
'I'm fine, honestly.' Judith stretched out on the bed with a sigh. 'Not up to a game of squash or a six mile run, but I'm not so bad. Don't worry. It's an ill wind, anyway, Honor—at least you're under the same roof as Martin for the night.'
Honor dimpled. 'True. But I'd have preferred a slightly less dramatic reason. You looked very flustered when Martin and I arrived, by the way. Had you been crossing swords with Rafael?'
'M'm. Something like that.'
'Don't you like him, Judith?'
Judith shrugged.
'You don't like someone like Rafael David, Honor. You admire him from the audience if you're lucky enough to see him perform. But people like him aren't part of daily life.'
'Well personally I think he's rather gorgeous.' Honor looked demure as she unpacked a dress from the suitcase brought with her.
'Do you now,' said Judith mockingly, and got up to run a bath.
Half an hour later she felt a great deal more like herself again in the jade green dress Honor had brought, her hair gleaming, her face lightly made up and the offending eye hidden behind her sunglasses. Judith eyed herself in the mirror. The dark glasses looked a bit stagey at this time of the evening, but it couldn't be helped. She slid strappy flat white sandals on her brown feet and waited for Honor, who arrived in a rush in a blue voile shirtwaister, ready for her stint at the Court House.
'How do I look?' she demanded, leaning to peer in the mirror.
'A touch more eye-shadow, and perhaps a touch of mascara,' said Judith. 'Keep still, I'll do it for you:'
Deftly she accentuated Honor's eyes a little and drew back to admire her handiwork.
'Not too much I hope.' Honor examined herself critically, then smiled, pleased. 'Makes my eyes look bigger.'
'All the better to see Martin with, Grandma. Come on, we'd better go down.'
Miss Gresham was seated at the table on the terrace, a glass of sherry in front of her, the two men leaning against the balustrade. The heat had gone from the sun, and a light evening breeze rustled in the trees. Rafael, his grey velvet trousers and white silk shirt a sharp contrast to Martin's dark, formal suit, was deep in conversation with his friend, his face dark against the glow of sunset as he waved a hand in emphasis to some point he was making. The men turned as the sisters appeared, Martin hastening to offer them drinks from the tray on the table. Judith accepted a glass of fresh orange juice with a dash of gin, and set out to be deliberately convivial, determined to dismiss any lingering aura of invalid.
'I feel an utter fraud, really,' she said, smiling ruefully at Miss Gresham. 'I'm as fit as a fiddle now.'
'I doubt you would be if you'd stayed at home,' said Miss Gresham, eyes twinkling. 'You sounded distinctly besieged when I was speaking to you on the telephone.'
'We're very happy to have you both here,' added Martin, and smiled at Honor. 'An unexpected privilege.'
'How long does this Masque of yours go on tonight, Martin?' asked Rafael casually, staring into his glass.
'With any luck it should be over by ten-thirty, I should think. I depend on you to keep Judith suitably entertained until then.'
'And how do you propose I do that?' Rafael's eyes lifted to Judith's face mockingly. 'She does not care for music, so a serenade is useless, alas.'
'You have no need to entertain me at all,' she said spiritedly. 'We can watch television, or read.'
Martin gave a sudden crack of laughter. 'That's a put-down for you, old chap. Not often a beautiful girl suggests reading a book while spending an evening with Rafael David!'
'A refreshing change for him.' Miss Gresham smiled fondly at Rafael and gave him her hand as she rose to her feet. 'I see Mrs Carey hovering. Dinner must be ready.'
Judith's appetite revived instantly when confronted by chilled gazpacho soup followed first by poached salmon in herb sauce and finally by a Grand Marnier soufflé. She enjoyed the meal all the more for the pleasure she knew Honor was experiencing just to be eating in company with Martin Gresham at his own table, and took pains to be pleasant to Rafael to ensure no jarring note spoiled anything for her. Judith had the feeling life might seem a trifle flat for both of them after all the excitement of the past day or two, her wry little smile catching Rafael's eye as they went together to see the others off after the meal. Thoughts of the episode in the garden made her uneasy as Rafael placed a hand beneath her elbow and strolled with her to the terrace.
'Let us drink our coffee outside,' he suggested. 'The evening is warm.'
'Won't the night air affect your voice?'
He shook his head. 'Not tonight. Come, let us sit and watch the moon rise.'
Quite a few women would sell their souls to hear him say that, thought Judith as she poured coffee.
'That is a very enigmatic look, Judith.' Rafael handed her a glass half-filled with brandy. She eyed it warily.
'And that's rather a large measure, surely.'
'Regard it as an elixir, a potion to relax you, to add warmth to your attitude towards me.' He sat down beside her, lounging at ease in the garden chair, and eyed her over the rim of his glass. 'And now tell me why you smiled, Judith.'
'It occurred to me that a good many women would give their eye-teeth to be in my shoes at this minute,' she said with a shrug, and took a cautious sip from her glass.
Rafael's eyes dropped to the pink-polished toenails peeping from her sandals then returned to her face, his smile a sudden gleam against the darkness of his skin.
'Ah, but no one could fill those shoes so charmingly, Judith, nor is there any other company I would prefer.' He bent to look into her hastily averted face. 'What is it? Do you not care for compliments?'
'Of course,' said Judith lightly. She turned considering eyes on him. 'But yours sound so stylised, so practised—even well worn. Perhaps your approach is so direct because you have so little time to spare between engagements?'
Rafael made no reply. Judith waited uneasily. He appeared utterly relaxed beside her, yet she knew very well he was not, despite his pose. Beneath the indolence something dynamic radiated from him like rays from the sun, an inner energy that communicated itself to her from behind the negligent facade, reaching to some hidden source of life within herself. She blinked. Now that was really getting fanciful. The knock on the head had a lot to answer for.
'It is true that I have little time to develop new relationships,' Rafael said at last, so quietly Judith thought for a moment he was talking to himself. 'And no doubt you are prejudiced by the publicity I cannot avoid—'
'No,' said Judith quickly, 'not in the least. We don't read the tabloids and the rather staid broadsheet Honor takes goes in more for opera reviews—which I'm afraid I don't read—than juicy titbits about the opera-singers themselves.'
'So you know nothing about me at all?' He sounded amused.
'Not a lot. As I've said before, classical music just isn't my scene.'
'Then why are you so defensive towards me, Judith?'
'Am I?' She turned to look at him, thoughtfully. 'Well, I suppose because you're a celebrity and I'm just a sensible, ordinary girl with a worthy, but not terribly glamorous occupation.'
Rafael returned her look steadily.
'And you think that I can be attracted only to the exotic beings of the world, with no time for those who follow less spectacular roads through life.'
'I don't know that I'd have put it quite like that, but yes, to be candid, I think that's right.'
He sighed and turned away. 'I was afraid of that.' He rose to his feet in one fluid movement and held out his hand. 'Come. Let us walk in Martin's tranquil gardens, and you shall tell me the story of your life.'
'My life?' Judith laughed spontaneously as she strolled with him down the shallow stone steps of the terrace to the rose garden and the tree-lined avenue beyond. 'Very dull, I'm afraid. I'm a qualified physiotherapist, I work in the hospital here in Hardwick, I live with Honor and my parents have retired to a place near Abergavenny. I like swimming, running—and walking—I play squash, badminton and I have a regular escort in the shape of a doctor from, one of the medical practices in the town.'
Rafael turned towards her, frowning.
'He is your fiancé?'
'No. Marriage doesn't figure in my immediate plans.'
'Then he is your lover?'
She halted, looking at him coldly.
'That, I think, is entirely my own affair.'
'Lo siento—I apologise.' He gave her an odd, stiff little bow and they resumed their stroll.
By this time the moon was a sliver-thin arc of silver in the dusk, with dilatory stars making their appearance here and there to join it. It was very peaceful, only the occasional distant rumble of traffic to remind them how close they were to civilisation. Judith breathed in the scent of newly-mown grass, rising heady and green as they paced slowly along the shadowy tree-lined walk towards a gazebo, which loomed ghost-like and pale against the sky as they approached.
'Now you know everything about me—' began Judith.
'Everything?' said Rafael quizzically.
'All the salient points, then.' Judith looked dubiously at the gazebo's shadowy interior as Rafael gestured to her to enter. It was a fanciful, rococo little construction, frivolous as a piece of scenery from an operetta.
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