The Bitter Price Of Love

by Amanda Browning

  She shivered, wondering just who this stranger was who could make her easygoing Eliot sound so bitter. Yet she refused to let it put a cloud on the day. She concentrated instead on the approaching island. It still shimmered in the heat, almost assuming a mirage effect. But through the haze she could see golden tropical beaches and lush greenery. Towards one end hills rose in stately splendour, and straight ahead, beside a small collection of buildings, a sturdy jetty jutted out into the sparkling sea.

  ‘Who lives there?’ Reba asked, noting that their arrival had brought several children out on to the jetty, to stand waving. Laughing with real pleasure, she smiled and waved back.

  ‘You shouldn’t encourage them, darling. They’re damn nuisances, and we’ll only have them hanging round us all the time,’ Eliot complained.

  ‘But they’re only children,’ she protested, finding it impossible not to respond to the smiling faces she gradually distinguished as they drew closer to shore. ‘Who do they belong to?’

  ‘They’re the servants’ children. Those are their houses you can see. We find it’s more convenient if they don’t all live in, especially as the house is shut up for so many months. Lord knows what they’d get up to if we let them have the run of the place. They have some land on which to grow their own crops, and boats to get to the other islands. They’re perfectly happy,’ Eliot observed, but Reba, shocked to hear such a colonial attitude in the nineties, couldn’t help wondering if that was the servants’ opinion too.

  By the time they docked, several adults had joined the group—cheerful islanders in colourful clothes, who willingly reached down hands to help her alight. Reba barely had time to thank them before she was surrounded by tiny figures. She adored children, wanting to have several of her own, and would have liked to make friends with these, but Eliot was by her side in an instant, shooing them away.

  ‘Bye. See you soon,’ Reba called after them, and received large grins and waves for her trouble.

  Eliot wasn’t best pleased. ‘For goodness sake, Reba, you sound just like Hunter. He’d be playing games with them!’

  Secretly she was pleased to hear it. She had always felt that Hunter would make a good father. Eliot, on the other hand…‘I thought you wanted children?’

  ‘I do, but not little savages like these. Ours will be properly brought up.’ He dismissed the subject tersely, and, taking her arm, led her to where a gleaming automobile stood waiting in the shade.

  Reba thought it did children good to act like little savages sometimes, though that wasn’t how she would have described the island children. When they had their own family, she was going to make sure their natural enthusiasm wasn’t repressed.

  ‘Damn it, where’s Vincent?’ Eliot’s petulant demand drew her attention back to the present.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The chauffeur,’ Eliot explained crossly. ‘He should be with the car.’

  One of the men loading their luggage into the back of the vehicle looked round. ‘Vincent’s gone to the mainland, boss. Miz Thorson said for you to drive yourself up to the house.’

  ‘Oh, great!’ Eliot exploded, and, muttering under his breath, he settled Reba into the passenger seat before climbing in behind the wheel.

  Attempting to pour oil on troubled waters, Reba placed her hand on his arm. ‘Never mind, it can’t be a long drive on an island this size.’

  Eliot sent her a scowl. ‘It’s not the length of the journey, Reba. I don’t pay someone to drive me only to have to do it myself!’

  Reba stared at him with raised brows. ‘I suppose you can dress yourself and tie your own shoelaces?’ she asked in irritation, because he had done nothing but gripe since they landed. Surprised, he blinked twice before visibly relaxing and smiling.

  ‘You think I’m being childish and overreacting?’

  Relenting, she tipped her head consideringly. ‘Just a bit,’ she agreed, and he sighed and started the car.

  ‘You’re right. I’m sorry,’ he apologised, setting them moving, but she noted he didn’t think of apologising to the people he had spoken to so sharply.

  This was the difference in their upbringing and, although she didn’t like it, she knew she would have to get used to it, until she could bring about some changes. That gave an extra sense of purpose to her marriage. Eliot wasn’t the type to be deliberately unkind; he simply had never given thought to what he did.

  Five minutes later he brought the car to a sliding halt and, while Reba looked on in mystification, reached into the rear seat for his jacket. From an inside pocket he produced a gift-wrapped package.

  ‘This is for you.’

  Since their engagement, she had found it difficult to refuse the presents he kept giving her. She didn’t need them, and they made her feel uncomfortable. Still, she produced a smile, because she knew he enjoyed giving her things. ‘You’re spoiling me,’ she protested, even as her fingers reluctantly picked at the wrapping, uncovering a long thin box which she snapped open to reveal a diamond-encrusted watch ‘Oh, Eliot!’ she gasped, stunned into speechlessness.

  While she looked on, he quickly removed her old watch from her wrist and put the new one in its place. ‘Like it?’ he queried lightly, but his eyes were intense.

  I’m really not cut out for this, she thought helplessly. Why can’t I accept it and not feel cheap because I know I don’t love him? Other women would. She’d just have to make him happy, and showing pleasure would do that. She raised misty golden eyes to his and smiled.

  ‘I love it! Thank you, darling,’ she said gruffly, closing the gap between them to brush her lips over his. But when she would have moved away, Eliot’s hand came up behind her head, holding her there while he deepened the kiss searchingly.

  When he finally released her, it was only to arm’s length, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go further. ‘Mmm…I needed that. Do you know why I always bring you presents, Reba?’

  Lord, how she wished he would just restart the car and drive on. ‘Because you’re the most generous man I know?’

  ‘Generosity has nothing to do with it. I buy you gifts because I love seeing your face light up when I give them to you,’ he told her fervently.

  Reba sighed, caught out by her own acting ability. ‘I know you like giving me gifts, but you really don’t have to,’she proclaimed huskily.

  Eliot let his eyes rove over her. ‘You’re so cool and beautiful, so elegant and aloof. I can’t believe my luck in winning you. Darling, I’m so crazy in love with you, I dread the thought of losing you.’

  For a moment she thought she might break into hysterical laughter, but a deep breath held it back. ‘You don’t have to buy me things to keep me, Eliot. I gave you my promise to marry you, and I’m not going to go back on it.’

  He laughed then, a confident sound, and reached out to restart the engine. ‘I know, but I won’t feel totally secure until I’m walking back down the aisle with you on my arm.’

  As the car began to move again Reba sank back into her seat, turning her head away from him so that he shouldn’t see the bleakness in her eyes as his words conjured up another vision, another face. ‘You’ll never lose me, Eliot.’ You’re all I have now. All I have.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  REBA’S first thought, when she entered the lounge on Eliot’s arm before dinner, was that Mrs Thorson was the archetypal matriarch. Elegantly coiffured and dressed, despite the humidity, she looked handsomely regal and remote. Sensing critical eyes surveying her, Reba was glad of her choice of evening-wear. The black sheath dress was an original, and although it clung to her slender curves lovingly it ended a few inches below her knees. She hoped there was nothing there to affront Thorson sensibilities, especially as she wanted to make a good impression.

  However, there was more to Mrs Thorson than met the eye, for her face broke into a charming smile as she held her hands out to her son.

  ‘Eliot!’

  There was genuine affection in her tone, and Reba felt her own nervous tensio
n ease slightly. She stood back while mother and son embraced, then stepped forward when he beckoned her.

  ‘Darling, let me introduce you to my mother.’

  ‘I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs Thorson,’ she greeted politely, and received a gracious smile in return.

  ‘So you’re the young woman my son tells me he’s going to marry. You must forgive me for sounding a little surprised, Miss Wyeth, but we knew nothing about you until Eliot telephoned yesterday to say he was bringing you with him,’ Mrs Thorson explained after they had shaken hands.

  Of course, that would explain why Eliot had been acting a little out of character. This was a big moment for him, and naturally he wanted his family’s approval of his choice. Slipping her hand through his arm, she sent him an encouraging smile.

  ‘Please, call me Reba, Mrs Thorson. I hope, once you’ve got over the shock, that we can be friends,’ she invited sincerely.

  His mother smiled again. ‘Oh, I’m sure we shall. Now, don’t stand on ceremony. You must make yourself quite at home here.’

  Eliot, looking extremely handsome in a dinner-jacket which fitted him perfectly, gave an audible sigh of relief. ‘Didn’t I tell you how beautiful she is, Mother?’ he challenged proudly.

  Mrs Thorson patted his cheek and smiled. ‘She’s very lovely, Eliot. Now, why don’t you pour us all a glass of sherry, there’s a dear boy?’ she suggested, cleverly disguising what was, in fact, an order.

  Having watched him obey her command, the older woman turned to Reba with a conspiratorial smile. ‘I always like a small sherry before dinner, but really that was just an excuse for us to have a little privacy. He won’t let you out of his sight otherwise. Now, please don’t take this amiss, my dear, but I hope you won’t rush into anything. I’ve always considered the formal period of an engagement to be an admirable idea, because it gives one the chance to realise one’s mistakes before any irreparable damage has been done. Marriages are less painful to get into than out of.’

  Reba appreciated Mrs Thorson’s concern. When she became a mother, she knew she would probably feel the same. ‘Common sense doesn’t offend me, Mrs Thorson,’ she responded lightly, and the older woman relaxed.

  ‘You’re sensible. I like that. Have you known my son long?’

  ‘Several months. Long enough to know we can be happy together.’

  Mrs Thorson took that in her stride, replying with a sortie of her own. ‘And what do your own parents say?’

  Reba had to smile, realising it was possible to like this woman after all. ‘My father died when I was young, but my mother was thrilled. She just wants me to be happy.’ The words brought an ache to her heart, and she forced herself to ignore it. She would be happy. ‘Eliot and I are both adults, Mrs Thorson, and I’m sure you understand why we don’t see the point of waiting any longer than we have to.’

  Mrs Thorson nodded sympathetically. ‘Of course. I expect I understand more than you think I do.’ For a moment she sounded grim, but when she looked at Reba her expression was amused. ‘After all, I was young once myself. Ah, I don’t believe you’ve met my daughter, Eleanor,’ she continued smoothly, indicating a young woman who had just entered the room.

  Eleanor Thorson could have been her brother’s twin, but was in fact several years younger. She was extremely pretty, but right now there was a tight look about her mouth, and her smile didn’t reach her eyes. When she shook hands, Reba could actually feel the tension in her.

  ‘Eliot said you were a model,’ his sister ventured tautly, not glancing at her mother.

  Something was wrong, and Reba flashed her a friendly smile, trying to put her at ease. ‘That’s correct.’

  Eleanor responded with a fleeting smile. ‘I wanted to be a model once, but I stopped growing!’ she said ruefully.

  Reba laughed in commiseration. ‘You do have to be tall, I’m afraid. But don’t be too upset. It isn’t as glamorous as you think. A lot of the time it’s hard work for very little money. You’d be better off doing something else.’

  For a moment Eleanor allowed herself to relax. ‘That’s what I told myself. Now I’m studying art history instead. Mother does not approve!’ She said it with a fond glance at her parent, so Reba knew that wasn’t the cause of her inner tension.

  Mrs Thorson tutted. ‘I refuse to be drawn tonight, Eleanor. Go and see if Eliot needs a hand,’ she advised, before turning to Reba with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Shall we sit down?’ She indicated the couch behind them. ‘Reba—such an interesting name. I don’t believe I’ve ever come across it before. Is it your own, or a professional one?’

  That prompted a discussion about her career and her family which lasted until dinner was announced. The meal was a delight on two fronts. Not only was the food beautifully prepared, but Mrs Thorson was an accomplished hostess, and she cleverly kept the conversational ball moving. Even Eleanor remained relaxed, although she began to show signs of tension again towards the end.

  By then Reba was certain she had made a good impression, and Eliot seemed to think so too, for he reached out to squeeze her hand. ‘What did I tell you, darling? How could Mother fail to like you?’ he pronounced softly.

  She smiled. ‘I like her too.’

  Across the table, Eleanor cleared her throat. ‘Oh, by the way, Mother, I meant to tell you earlier, I’ve invited Sibyl to join us tomorrow,’ she declared brusquely, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Reba winced as Eliot’s fingers tightened about hers, but it didn’t stop her noticing the younger woman was braced for trouble. This explained her earlier behaviour, and she tensed in silent support.

  Mrs Thorson raised a hand to her throat. ‘Really, Eleanor!’ she said faintly, eyes turning rather anxiously to her son.

  That exchange of glances sent a finger of unease down Reba’s spine. ‘Who is Sibyl?’ she asked, and for a moment it seemed she wasn’t going to receive an answer.

  ‘Sibyl Haggerty,’ his sister eventually explained, taking the bull by the horns. ‘We were at school together. She’s been away in Europe and has only recently come back. I invited her over so we could catch up on all the gossip.’

  Reba didn’t believe it, and neither did anyone else, although they reacted differently.

  Eliot relaxed again, smiling at his sister. ‘Naturally, you would. But it wasn’t a very kind thing to do when you know Sib and I don’t get on,’ he pointed out smoothly.

  Eleanor jutted out her chin, eyes accusing. ‘You used to.’

  ‘But not any more. Ring her and tell her to come another time,’ Eliot ordered, but his sister shook her head mutinously.

  ‘I will not!’

  ‘That will do!’ Mrs Thorson intervened sternly. She sounded calm, but her fingers were crumpling her napkin. ‘If Eleanor has invited Sibyl, then we must make her welcome. I will expect everyone to be on their best behaviour.’ Was it a coincidence that her eyes were on her son as she said that? ‘Now, if you’ll oblige me by ringing for Neville, Eliot, he’ll bring the champagne I had put on ice in order to toast you and Reba.’

  Eliot looked as if he might refuse, but then he released Reba’s hand, allowing her to rub it and restore the blood-flow. She watched as he rose and went to the bell. What on earth had that been all about? This Sibyl was clearly a bone of contention between brother and sister, and Eleanor wanted to score points. But why? What had Sibyl Haggerty done?

  It was a puzzle which she put to the back of her mind as the champagne was poured. Mrs Thorson proposed the toast, and it was while they were drinking it that Reba experienced the overwhelming sensation of being watched. The sensitive hairs all over her body rose to attention, and her head came up abruptly, her golden eyes meeting and locking on to a pair of deep blue ones. Eyes which could plumb the depth and breadth of her soul.

  Hunter! All the air seemed to leave her body in a rush.

  He stood on the terrace, just outside the French doors which had been left open to allow in whatever breeze there was to cool them. He looked much as he had
done the very first time she had seen him, down to the white vest and faded, torn jeans which clung to every muscle. He was a potent presence which she could never forget, and her body responded on a primitive level. Oh God, she could have been given a hundred years to prepare for this meeting, and it would not have been enough. The source of all her happiness and all her pain stood before her, and she could not have moved or spoken if her life had depended upon it, such was his effect upon her.

  Yet her brain pounded out questions. What was he doing here? What did it mean? Had he followed her? Dear God, what was he going to do? That last question exploded in her brain as she was made painfully aware that he held immense power. She had been so worried about seeing him again, when her defences were so weak, that she had missed the fact that he had the power to destroy everything!

  ‘Reba? Honey, are you all right?’ Eliot’s concerned voice seemed to come from a long way away, but it broke the spell, and she dragged in a painful breath as a sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead.

  She didn’t have to reply, for the silent man at the window moved and drew everyone’s attention. There was a moment of absolute stillness as he stepped inside into the light, then Eliot shot to his feet, his glass toppling off the table to crash to the floor unnoticed.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here, Hunter?’ he demanded angrily, much to his cousin’s amusement.

  Hunter was perfectly relaxed. Taking his weight on one leg, the other bent in a purely male stance, he crossed his arms over his chest. ‘I heard you were welcoming a new member into the family,’ he drawled, in a voice which was laced with cynical amusement and succeeded in touching a nerve in Reba which made her shiver. Her fear grew. What was he going to do? Those eyes swivelled to her, not missing the tell-tale swiftness of her breathing. He knew what she was thinking. He was enjoying watching her squirm as she waited for the axe to fall. A few simple words would be all it took. She closed her eyes.

  ‘This her?’ she heard him ask, and her lids shot up so that she could stare at his mocking eyes. It was there for her to see. He was going to say nothing—not yet. He had other plans. Like a cat with a mouse, he was going to toy with her before he ended it. And he would end it—in his own time.