Pirates' Lair

by Jane Corrie

  `The night before we got engaged,' Marcus replied, just as casually.

  When she was still starry-eyed, Thea thought miserably, and wondered what the said John would think of their new relationship. 'Does he know that we got engaged?' she asked carefully.

  Marcus threw her a sardonic look. 'Sure he knows,' he answered softly. 'I guess he wants to congratulate you.'

  Thea drew in a deep breath. 'So you didn't tell him it was off. That wasn't very kind of you,' she said indignantly. 'He's going to feel a bit foolish now, isn't he?'

  `I had my reasons for not enlightening him,' Marcus replied with the autocratic note back in his voice, 'and I want it left like that.' He gave her a hard quick assessing look. 'I said you owed me, didn't I?' he said meaningfully.

  Thea stared back at him. 'When exactly will you consider the debt paid?' she demanded furiously. 'I only want some idea of how often I'm going to be dragged out on mercy missions,' and her fury increased as he gave a deep chuckle. 'I might be slow, but I've got the picture,' she went on acidly. 'You're using me, aren't you, to fend off this woman. If he does decide to go ahead with that hotel idea, then: they'll be around a long time,' she fumed. 'I advise you to look around for another fiancée. I don't plan to be around that long!'

  Marcus shot her another of those quick assessing looks of his. 'Careful, honey,' he warned softly. 'I could stop the car and make you a little better disposed towards things. I don't give a damn about Moira Smythe, and if you think I'm looking for a skirt to hide behind, then you don't know me very well. I've had plenty of practice in handling such women. I wouldn't have got far in my business if I hadn't learned fast. If you want to put it down to anything, try the pride aspect. It isn't every day a man gets engaged and is jilted the next,' he added, now as furious as Thea had been.

  Thea looked away from his blazing eyes and down at her hands now twisted in her lap. She swallowed hard. He couldn't have chosen a better explanation to make her feel as mean as she felt then. It wasn't her fault that she had been naïve and hadn't seen behind Marcus's proposal, but had accepted it without question. 'That wasn't very kind of you,' she said quietly, her eyes still on her hands. `You know why I backed out.'

  And now you know my thoughts on the matter,' Marcus replied harshly. 'I guess you were right, though—the way things are shaping up we'd need a referee, not a best man!'

  Thea's nails dug into her soft palms. It was going to be a wonderful luncheon party, she thought miserably, and if John Smythe still thought they were in love with each other it wouldn't only be his wife's shortcomings that he was blind to!

  CHAPTER NINE

  JOHN and Moira Smythe were waiting for them on the hotel terrace when they arrived at Pirates' Cove. Thea had a vague recollection of meeting John Smythe, who was thirtyish, and rather plump, and had seemed a nice uncomplicated type of man.

  His wife, a woman in her late twenties, Thea judged, in spite of the bright golden curls dexterously arranged around her small but drawn-looking features, that suggested that she had a weight problem and had overdone the dieting, gave the impression that she was a vague helpless female who needed a strong helping hand to help her over the pitfalls of life, preferably male. Her warm over-effusive greeting to Thea was accepted by her with inward reservations, and Thea kept a watching eye on her during lunch.

  As they sat down at the table in the alcove, already prepared for lunch, Thea was very conscious of her cotton blouse and corduroys, and felt that she must have given the impression that she had been hauled out of a fishing trip, or some other activity that did not require dressing-up. Moira Smythe's gorgeous silk peacock blue dress that clung to her slim figure emphasised her discomfiture and she felt obliged to apologise for her appearance.

  This apparently annoyed Marcus, who obviously did not like her apologising for anything, and she had hardly finished before he added, 'We had a

  morning on the beach, and I'm afraid I overlooked the time.' He gave Thea a possessive look. 'I didn't allow her time to change,' he added, in a manner that implied that he was boss of the outfit, and Thea felt her cheeks grow warm as she felt Moira's curious eyes on her.

  It was true, every bit of it, Thea thought furiously. She had not been allowed any leeway. She would never be allowed any, where he was concerned, and in spite of the envious looks she was getting from the woman sitting opposite her, Thea found no consolation in this state of affairs.

  John Smythe gave a hearty chuckle and clapped Marcus on the shoulder. 'That's the way, old man,' he said heartily. 'Start as you mean to go on.' He gave Thea a wide grin. 'It's a case of humouring the brute, Thea, but I guess you've already found that out for yourself, eh?'

  His enjoyment of the situation subsided quickly as he met his wife's cold eyes, and Thea felt immensely sorry for him. There had been no love or understanding in that look, only open boredom from the woman he loved.

  `Oh, I've soft-pedalled with her so far,' Marcus replied softly, breaking into Thea's musings, 'but she's learning fast, aren't you darling?' he taunted mockingly.

  Thea's eyes did not speak of love either as they met his, and she wondered what he would do if she said what she thought of his tactics. She didn't have to wonder for long, the look in his eyes said all that was necessary, and she hastily applied herself to the lunch now being served.

  When they reached the coffee stage, the talk had turned to less embarrassing matters, and the men began to discuss business.

  `I took a look around yesterday,' said John, lighting up a cigar. 'There's an old place there on the hill—some sort of rooming-house, I guess. It's a bit of an eyesore, though, and I could use that land. I'll have to see what can be done about it,' he ruminated.

  Thea looked up then, remembering what Marcus had said about the plan to develop that part of the island. 'Beach House?' she asked.

  `That was its name, or something like it,' he replied in a surprised way. 'You know it, do you? Wouldn't happen to know who owns it, would you?' he queried.

  Thea's eyes went to Marcus as she replied slowly, `As a matter of fact, yes. I live there. The owner is Mrs Welling—but she won't sell out,' she added firmly.

  John Smythe shrugged. 'Everyone's got a price,' he said with a grin. 'It's worth making the approach, anyway.'

  Marcus looked at Thea. 'She told me she was thinking of joining her nephew. Said the business was getting a bit too much for her to handle,' he said quietly.

  Thea nodded her confirmation of this. But she's not selling up,' she said firmly. 'She wants to keep it as a boarding house and put a manager in. Those boarders have been with her for a long time.'

  `Well, if it's just a question of finding them other accommodation, I guess there's no problem there. It will be worth letting off a few flats to clear the area,' said John heartily.

  `At a price that they can afford?' Thea queried with an ironic note in her voice. 'And what if they don't want to move? They look on Beach House as their home,' she added indignantly.

  John gave Marcus a quick, amused look. 'Say, you got a philanthropist there?' he queried lightly.

  Marcus reached over and caught Thea's slim waist and pulled her towards him. 'I'm not sure,' he replied grandly, 'but whatever she is, I'm hanging on to her.'

  Thea could feel his strong fingers spanning her waist, touching the bare flesh in the gap between her blouse and corduroys, and felt her knees go weak. She wanted to pull away from him, but knew better than to give way to this fear of his proximity.

  `Must we talk business?' Moira cut in impatiently, as if unable to bear the sight of someone receiving such lover-like attention from a man she had had her sights on for a long time. She had been perfectly patient until then, Thea mused silently, quite content to let the men talk.

  John gave his wife a surprised look. 'We came over to discuss business, honey-plum—I told you that. Slip down to the beach and get some sun bathing in if you're bored,' he suggested.

  `By myself?' she replied pettishly. 'No, thank you!' She gave
Thea an almost calculating look. 'Unless you want to join me?' she asked her hopefully.

  Thea was torn between getting out of Marcus's deceptively loving hold on her waist, yet wanting to hear what John Smythe decided to do about Beach House in order to warn Mrs Welling of his plans.

  She might have known that Marcus would settle the matter. 'Use the end of the terrace,' he suggested. 'It's not so crowded as the beach. We'll join you later for tea.'

  As Thea settled herself down on one of the lounge chairs left out on Marcus's private sector of the terrace, and waited while Moira went back into the hotel to change into her sunsuit, she thought about Marcus's marked change of tactics where she was concerned. She particularly recalled his remark of `soft-pedalling', as he had put it, with her until now. If that was soft-pedalling, Thea hated to think what lay in store for her from now on. She was woman enough to feel a thrill of expectation towards the future, but sensible enough not to let these feelings rule her head.

  He could have been putting on an act for the Smythes, but somehow Thea didn't think so. It wasn't in character, and that left the other alternative. He was intent on punishing her for refusing to play his game. She had hurt his pride, he had admitted it, and that couldn't have been easy for him either.

  From where she lay on the upper terrace, she could see the beach below, and now and again would hear snatches of children's laughter. The sound seemed to sear through her heightened senses. She dearly loved Marcus, she would always love him, but could she deny herself children? It was his children she wanted, no one else's. Could she accept marriage with a man who didn't love her, and would one day throw her aside when her attraction for him ended?

  Her eyes narrowed as she envisaged such a future. She would wake each morning and wonder if this was the day when Marcus would ask her to get out of his life, and she would have to face up to years of

  loneliness and yearning for a man who no longer cared for her.

  She shook her head blindly. She must ignore the feelings his touch invoked in her. The future was all that mattered, and what would be in store for her should she let her heart rule her head. She must leave this place, she thought wildly, or she would be lost. What chance did she stand against a man like that? All the odds were in his favour, and he knew it, she thought frantically.

  Had Moira not arrived at that precise time, Thea, would have grabbed her corduroys and blouse and made a run for it while Marcus was otherwise engaged.

  `Correct me if I'm wrong,' Moira murmured as she settled herself down on a lounger beside Thea, `but I have a feeling that you're not so keen on that gorgeous hunk of man as you're supposed to be.'

  Thea's eyes widened at this very astute guess on Moira's part, and as she sought for a plausible explanation for her unlover like response to Marcus, she absently noticed the bright green bikini that she wore, and the wisp of material at the top giving maximum leeway for an all-over tan, 'I suppose I'm a bit reserved,' she replied cautiously, and hastily looked away from Moira's very knowing eyes.

  Moira gave a sigh, and laid her head down on the chair back, 'I've heard that Englishmen are cold,' she said, with a touch of dry humour in her voice. 'I didn't know that went for the women as well.'

  There was a few moments' silence after this, and Thea closed her eyes and let the warmth of the sun seep through her, hoping that Moira would choose another subject if she was inclined to talk, but she

  found that the wish was not to be fulfilled.

  `You want to watch it,' Moira went on thoughtfully. 'His type doesn't play around, and there's plenty who'd grab at the chance of making his interest permanent.'

  Sapphire, for instance, Thea thought miserably, and goodness knows how many more—Moira herself, if it came to that, she thought, remembering the way she had hardly taken her eyes off him during lunch. If only to show that she wasn't as slow as Moira apparently thought she was, Thea remarked dryly, 'You mean Sapphire, I suppose?'

  Moira lifted her head in a surprised action and stared at her. 'I shouldn't worry about Sapphire,' she said caustically, then relaxed back to her former position. 'She's done very well for herself out of the Conan family. She was lucky Marcus adhered to his father's wishes and looked out for her future. She's a fool if she thinks it goes any further than that, and no amount of wishful thinking will change things.'

  Thea's eyes jerked open, and she sat bolt upright and stared at Moira, who lay with her eyes closed and her face turned towards the sun. 'Was Sapphire ' She swallowed, and took a deep breath, but could not go on; in any case there was no need.

  Moira gave a smile that reminded Thea of a cat, a Cheshire cat, contemplating a large bowl of cream. 'His father's mistress? Yes,' she supplied happily, wriggling herself into a more comfortable position and clearly enjoying herself, 'it's not something that Marcus would want broadcast around the island though, and most people thought that she was his property. Went for you, did she?' she asked in amusement.

  Thea was still trying to come to terms with this startling revelation from the past. She recalled Pauline's remarks about Sapphire and how she had been around for a long time. Five years was a long time, and it had been that length of time since his father had died. A lot could happen in that time, she thought dully. She couldn't see any man passing up the opportunity of getting a little better acquainted with such a sultry beauty as Sapphire, particularly if they were given the green light, not even Marcus. 'Five years is a long time,' she half-muttered to herself, speaking her thoughts aloud.

  `Since Mr Conan's death?' Moira queried, beaming in accurately on Thea's thoughts. 'Five—ten years. It wouldn't make any difference to Marcus. He's not the man to take anyone's leavings, and certainly not his father's. Even if he'd been tempted— and he wasn't,' she added with an air of satisfaction in her voice. 'Oh, she's got the figure, but the rest is a facade. To give her her due, she's never given up. Marcus tolerates her, but that's as far as it goes.'

  Thea slowly lay back and closed her eyes. She badly wanted to be alone to be able to absorb all that she had heard, but most of all she wanted Marcus near her. To tell him how much she had misjudged him, and how much she loved him.

  This euphoric feeling did not last long, however, and was soon replaced by the same old nagging doubts. Nothing really had changed. Marcus still had the same views on marriage, and more important than this was the bare fact that he didn't love her. A child's laugh floated up to her from the beach below and Thea winced. When he did fall in love he would want children, it was a natural conclusion of

  a truly happy marriage.

  `You don't know how lucky you are,' Moira went on, unaware of the turbulent thoughts going through Thea's mind. 'Now if I were lucky enough to catch the eye of a man like that, I'd be on cloud nine. I wouldn't walk, I'd float!' she added dreamily. Then her voice changed to a pettish tone. 'But look what I've got. Can you imagine anyone less romantic-looking than my husband?' she demanded irritably.

  `Looks don't always count,' Thea replied carefully. 'I like John, and it's obvious that he loves his wife,' she reminded her.

  `Oh, sure,' Moira replied in a bored tone, 'but looks go a long way to sweeten the medicine.'

  Thea felt a dark depression settle over her. She didn't love her husband at all, and she was beginning to understand Marcus's attitude towards marriage. 'Looking forward to being a rich divorcee?' she asked the scowling Moira as she pondered on her miserable lot in life.

  This comment produced an amazing reaction from Moira, who sat bolt upright, much as Thea had done earlier, and glared at Thea. 'Who said anything about divorce?' she demanded, then simmered down as she met Thea's startled expression. `Okay,' she said slowly, her eyes on her hands with her brightly painted nails, `so I let off steam now and again, but I'm no fool. I know where I'm better off. I'm not aiming to land up as a black widow.' She met Thea's puzzled look. 'That's what they're called,' she explained. 'They pretend they're having a whale of a time, but the only parties they go to are the ones they throw thems
elves. They'd be after my

  John like a cloud of locusts if given the chance.' She broke off suddenly as if a thought had just occurred to her. 'Say, there's nothing been said, has there?' she asked Thea, lines of anxiety now plainly visible on her smooth creamed forehead, then took a deep breath. 'Oh, forget it, honey,' she said casually, and lay back on the lounger again, but the anxiety was still in her eyes, Thea noticed, in spite of her added, `John's okay. I make sure of that.'

  Thea was certain that she had inadvertently given Moira a deep shock, even though she had tried to hide this fact from her. 'Only you've no children, have you?' she asked her after a few seconds' silence. `I'm sorry, I don't mean to probe,' she went on, 'but John strikes me as a family man. Didn't he want any children?' she asked innocently.

  Moira half-turned towards her, and Thea could see she was surprised at the question, and now gave it some deep thought. 'I guess he left the choice up to me,' she said slowly, and her light blue eyes narrowed in thought. 'It might be an idea at that,' she commented quietly, then turned over on her stomach exposing a well-oiled back towards the sun. `Thanks, honey,' she murmured.

  That was all she said, but Thea knew what she meant, and felt a surge of accomplishment. John Smythe was in for a very pleasant shock in the near future, unless she had miscalculated the matter, but Thea was sure she hadn't. She thought of John's remark about her being a philanthropist—perhaps she was, she thought, as she settled down to sunbathe again. If only she could sort her own problems out to a happy conclusion!

  Moira's remarks on divorce confirmed Thea's

  own thinking. It was certainly not a state of existence to make one's goal, although Marcus had seemed to think that that was the prime motive of marriage for most women, with a fat settlement following and freedom to do as one wished for the rest of time. He ought to have heard Moira's bald summing-up on the subject, Thea thought sadly, but he would only see what he wanted to see.