by Pamela Pope
'You mean I should have stayed and put up a fight?'
'Why not?'
She bit on her lower lip. 'I told you, I've decided he's despicable. How can I possibly love him when I don't even like him?'
'It happens, child,' said Mac. 'It happens all the time. Do you think I don't know what a spoilt, selfish creature Corinne can be, and yet I'll never stop loving her. If you care for someone deeply enough you love them in spite of their faults, sometimes even because of them, and nothing will change it. Now let's have that tea before it gets cold, and plan what we can do.'
Mac took her out to dinner, and by the end of the evening Meredith was feeling in better spirits than she had been for a long time. She had forgotten how nice it was to be taken to a well-known restaurant, confident in the knowledge that she was with a handsome companion who encouraged her to choose the most expensive items on the menu. She had thrown a golden yellow georgette dress into her case because it never creased and didn't take up much room, and when she was wearing it the colour •worked a kind of magic with her hazel eyes, flecking them with gold. When she changed into it in the guest room for Mac's benefit, she knew he would be appreciative, and one look at his expression when he saw her left her in no doubt.
'Tonight, Meredith, I'm going to pretend I'm young enough to be the man you really want to be with,' he said. 'And we're not going to talk about either Corinne or Joss Hamblyn. We're going to enjoy ourselves. It isn't often I get the chance to escort such a charming young lady, and I don't intend to waste the opportunity.'
After the deliciously extravagant meal set off to perfection by a wine which Meredith recognised to be old enough to cost a fortune, Mac took her dancing. In spite of his weight he was as light as a feather on his feet and danced superbly. She remembered it was one of the things Piers had done extremely well, and when she floated round the floor with his father she experienced a moment of poignant sorrow. As if reading her thoughts, Mac slackened his hold and put a discreet distance between them.
'You know, child, I always hoped my son would marry you,' he said. 'I certainly wouldn't have done anything to prevent it, and I honestly don't think I would have held it against you, even now.'
It was a curious remark and Meredith almost tripped, upsetting the rhythm that had propelled them faultlessly round the dance floor.
'I wonder what you mean by that?' she asked.
Mac smiled. 'You'll know soon enough. And I hope you won't hold it against me either. More than that I'm not prepared to say.'
He insisted that she could stay in the guest room for as long as she liked and wouldn't hear of her going to a hotel. It was late when they got back and she was too tired to talk any more, refusing the nightcap Mac offered her when he went straight to the cocktail cabinet.
'It's been a very long day, Mac. And tomorrow I've got to plan what I'm going to do, so I need a clear head.' She went and kissed his cheek, as she would have done her father. 'Thank you for everything.'
'Goodnight, my dear,' he said, not attempting to touch her. 'It's been one of the loveliest evenings I've spent for a long while.'
'For me, too.'
He poured himself a whisky from the cut-glass decanter, and when he looked at her again there was sadness in his eyes, a glimpse of loneliness that was too deep for her to understand. He seemed to be trying to communicate something to her.
'Remember it, Meredith.' His voice was low and anxious. 'Remember it in the future when you may not feel so kindly disposed towards me.'
It was no good asking him to explain. The shadows in his life had always been mysterious, and even Piers had said his father attracted trouble like a bee to pollen. Whatever it was on his mind at the moment he certainly had no intention of disclosing it, so it was no good asking questions. But when she was in bed the questions tumbled through her head with annoying insistence, because in some way Mac's problems were connected with her and his anxiety seemed to hinge on her reaction when she finally became involved. She puzzled over it until her brain was in a whirl, but came no nearer to a solution, and gradually her own dilemma took over.
It had been cowardly to run away, and no matter what excuses she found for herself there was no denying that her flight from Edencombe had been the result of sheer panic. She couldn't possibly have faced Joss after what had happened, knowing that to him it was nothing more than a casual romp in the hay. By now he was probably laughing at her inexperience, and she could imagine his scorn on discovering she didn't even have the guts to brazen it out. Oh, it had all been just a bit of fun to Joss Hamblyn and he wouldn't have patience with her for thinking of it in any other terms.
She knew she was being positively Victorian, but Meredith's outlook on life had always been very straightforward, and she believed in the strict moral code her parents had taught her. It seemed as if once again she had failed them, yet she had to be truthful and admit that she wouldn't be feeling this way now if she and Joss had been going to marry.
She buried her face in the pillow and remembered her ecstatic response to Joss's lovemaking. Every part of her had been awakened by his expertise and he had taken her gently, knowing at last that she had not had a lover before. They had clung together in the timeless aftermath, too removed from reality to break the silence, until shock at what she had done made her claw at him in sudden frenzy.
'I hope you're satisfied!' she had cried, ashen-faced and trembling. 'Piers would never have taken advantage of me like that. He loved me too much, and he was content to wait until we were married. I hate you, Joss Hamblyn! I hate you, I hate you!'
She had ended up screaming at him, and he had slapped her face.
'I don't ever want to hear the name of that little tin god again,' he had retaliated. 'It's time you took him down off that pedestal and started using the senses you were born with. For God's sake stop making a martyr of yourself and relax!'
She had tossed her head defiantly. 'If you think you were doing me a favour it could be that you're right. You've made me see you in your true colours, and I think you're the most despicable man I've ever met!'
'Meredith, listen to me . ..'
'I won't listen to you!' She had been searching for her shoes and rammed them on her feet. 'What have you got to say that could possibly interest me? All I want now is to get out of here, and I wish I never had to set eyes on you again!'
She cried into her pillow. The bitter words had been used like weapons, wounding deeply, and she had been too overwrought to even try to curb her temper. Neither of them had uttered Corinne's name, but Meredith had been aware of it swinging like a dagger between them, the whole reason for the fight, because if Joss hadn't been going to marry Corinne the situation would have been totally different. As it was, she could only blame herself as much as Joss for the betrayal of another woman's trust.
In the darkness of the bedroom and separated from events by a great enough distance to bring about a return to rational thought, Meredith considered her situation. It was impossible to sleep when every time she closed her eyes she feasted yet again on memories of that forbidden love. They clouded her vision and made her certain of just one thing. No matter how vehemently she might deny it, the one vast truth was that she would never stop loving Joss Hamblyn. She was jealous of Corinne, and the thought of her at Eden Farm had grown to an almost unbearable pain which she could only learn to live with as long as the distance was maintained.
This was the real reason for her flight—she knew it now. The sight of Corinne with Joss, belonging to him, and belonging at Eden Farm, could not be borne, and as long as they were there together Meredith Paxton would have to live in exile.
At breakfast next morning she broached the subject of perhaps finding another flat, and ventured to ask whether there was any likelihood of a job for her with the Piers Loring Group. Her knowledge of the company was invaluable, as Mac readily admitted, but he was wary. Hasty decisions were often regretted, and he urged her to give herself more time.
'You were
happy to go back to Edencombe and be with your parents, weren't you?' he said, and brushed aside her arguments as to why she couldn't continue to live there. 'I don't want to know any more about the other set-up that's bothering you. I have the very strongest feeling that a new turn of events will soon sort out that little affair very nicely, and to our mutual advantage.'
'I wish you wouldn't talk in riddles,' said Meredith, buttering a crisp roll.
Mac smiled at her with teasing calmness, his good humour completely restored with the morning light. He must have slept a lot better than she had done. He wore a silk robe tied tightly round his ample waist with an elaborate sash, and Meredith knew by Dorothy's surprise that he didn't usually get up so early.
'My advice to you, young lady, is bide your time,' he said. 'Have patience and everything will turn out right.'
'You sound very confident.'
'I am. It dawned on me last night that the very thing I've been worrying about might after all be our saving grace.'
'Oh, Mac!' She could have throttled him.
He poured himself another coffee. 'This morning, if you would like to, we'll go to Piers' old business suite and you can see for yourself whether you would care to be cooped up again after living in the country. I wager you won't like it.-Then this afternoon I have a board meeting, so I'm afraid I shall have to leave you to your own devices.' He paused. 'By the way, have you phoned your mother to let her know you're safe?'
'Yes, I have,' she assured him, but carefully avoided enlarging on the subject when his eyes pleaded for news that there had been no objection to her choice of refuge. Her heart ached for him, and she longed to find some way to end the ridiculous family feud.
She enjoyed her morning in the familiar surroundings, meeting old friends and exchanging news. She had stayed on working in the suite after Piers' death long enough to reconcile herself to seeing new occupants there, but she still suffered an initial pain when she entered the ultra-modern room where she and Piers had worked so closely together.
She was left in no doubt that Mac Loring didn't want her back with the company. He did everything he could to compare it unfavourably with her new lifestyle in Edencombe so that she would not think this was the greener side of the fence, and no mention was made to anyone of Meredith's expressed wish to return. She was treated strictly as a visitor, though made to feel an important one, and she came away flattered but in agreement with Mac's way of thinking. It would be wrong to go back there now. The pioneering days were over and it would be no more than routine office work, which would not offer enough challenge.
So what was she going to do? The afternoon loomed ahead of her, empty of everything except memories; but the thought of an equally empty future was too pessimistic by far and she knew she mustn't waste time indulging in self-pity. She was through with men. From now on she would concentrate on becoming a career woman, and the first step was to consider resuming her law studies. It would certainly please her father, and perhaps in time she might even become a professional match for Joss Hamblyn. Yes, that was what she was going to do, and having arrived at the momentous decision she felt relieved and infinitely more relaxed.
With renewed confidence in herself the next thing she did was spend money on a new outfit. Her clothes had been smart but uninteresting of late and it was time she invested in something a bit more eye-catching to cheer herself up. Her first purchase was a full skirt of tiered white cotton with lace at the hem which she teamed with a gold and white sleeveless top, adding an alternative blouse with a lace collar for cooler days. The leather sandals she chose had flat heels and tied with thongs round her ankles, and a black paisley shawl of softest wool with a black silk fringe lent a touch of glamour.
She thought she had finished shopping when the cut-off Aztec pants and round-necked top caught her eye. The pattern was orange, red and brown, brilliant as a sweltering Mexican sun, and before she knew it the ensemble was packed and added to the parcels already in her arms. And it was the first thing she put on when she got back to the house. The pants suited her long brown legs, and she tied a rope belt of red silk round her waist, an orange scarf round her forehead with the ends trailing to her right shoulder. The whole effect was startlingly beautiful, and she wondered what Mac would say when he saw her.
But it was not Mac who was first to see the transformation.
It was late afternoon and Meredith was in the first floor lounge, her arms resting on the window ledge as she watched the build up of rush-hour traffic below. It was always a miracle to her how taxi drivers managed to nip through the tightest knot of cars and pause only at the lights. There were so many of them, and she paid no particular attention to the one with a single passenger until it slowed down and did a U-turn in the middle of the congested thoroughfare, which was risky to say the least of it. A moment later it drew up at the kerb outside Mac's house and the passenger got out.
The sun slanted on to a window opposite and dazzled her momentarily as she moved her head to look more clearly at the man who was now paying the taxi driver. She craned her neck, convinced that her eyes were deceiving her, yet there could be no mistaking the tall, aristocratic figure that straightened up and turned towards the door. A plummeting sensation rocked her body and left her gasping for breath, and she grasped the windowsill so hard her knuckles turned white, for out there on the sun-dappled pavement was Joss.
She stood up slowly, her knees weak as water beneath the tight bands of the Aztec pants, and as she waited for Dorothy to show him up to the lounge her mind was in a confused whirl. What on earth had made him come up to London with such alacrity, giving her no time to get over the upheaval he had -caused? She tried to remember whether this was one of the days he had an appointment in town, but it seemed like weeks since she had been in the office in Edencombe and everything about it was hazy.
The thought that he might have come because he had discovered he loved her instead of Corinne took hold of her like a lighted torch, setting every nerve on fire. Why else would he come in search of her? She clasped her trembling hands together, her breathing shallow and erratic as she tried to compose herself and not let hope shine too brightly in her eyes.
'There's a Mr Hamblyn here to see you, Miss Paxton,' said Dorothy, standing aside to let him in. 'I hope it's all right.'
'Yes,' said Meredith. 'Yes, it's all right.'
Joss came into the room, and it took only a second for that wonderful hope to be dashed. His face was hard, no glimmer of a smile softening the granite set of his mouth, and his eyes raked her over from head to toe as he took in the red and orange pants suit that had pleased her so much when she put it on.
'You look like a tramp,' he grated, striding over to her without any preliminary greeting. 'Which doesn't surprise me in the least, because that is exactly what you are.'
He tugged at the bandeau round her forehead and pulled it free, jerking her head so hard that she screamed.
'Joss!' She pressed the palms of her hands against her temples and stared at him, wide-eyed with fear. 'For heaven's sake, what have I done?'
He stood before her, controlling the cold fury that was worse than any display of temper she had ever seen.
'I came here with the intention of apologising to you,' he said, his voice clipped with anger. 'I couldn't wait to find you and put things right between us, and like a fool I'd rehearsed all manner of things to say to you.' He paused, drawing a long, furious breath. 'Thank God I spared the time to get an evening paper on the station. It certainly saved me from making the biggest damned mistake of my life!'
'Please, Joss! I don't understand . ..'
She was close to tears, unable to think of any possible reason for this savage attack.
'Don't you?' His derisive tone cut like a knife. 'Take a look at that and you'll know why I can't find words to describe the kind of girl I've discovered you are!'
He took the newspaper from his jacket pocket and flung it down on the coffee table beside her, folded so that she co
uld see the headlines.
CHAPTER NINE
Meredith couldn't pick the paper up. Her limbs felt numb and she stared at the blur of words without seeing them.
'What's the matter with you?' Joss demanded. 'Are you afraid to look at the proof that you're just a cheap little gold-digger?'
'That's a terrible thing to say, and quite without foundation!' Indignation at last loosened her tongue. 'How dare you burst in here and speak to me like that! I don't even know what you're talking about.'
He snatched the newspaper up again and thrust it into her hands, forcing her to look at it. 'Read that, and deny if you can that it wasn't prior knowledge made you aim straight for Mac Loring and his money!'
Her gaze slowly left his face and travelled down to the words that had so incensed him. 'MILLIONAIRE DIED INTESTATE', was the preposterous heading. In the first instant it meant nothing to Meredith, her mind still preoccupied with the bitter accusations Joss had made, but as she read further he became no more than the bearer of incredible news. 'It has been revealed that the late Piers William Loring, founder of the wealthy Piers Loring Group which continued to expand rapidly under his direction until his untimely death early this year, died intestate. His father, Mr MacDonald Loring, now becomes head of the Group and inherits his entire estate, estimated at...'
Meredith's face became very pale as she reached the end of the paragraph and saw the sum of money involved, an amount so vast it seemed incomprehensible and became almost meaningless. She bit her fingers sharply, to amazed too take it all in.