Storm In A Rain Barrel

by Anne Mather

  At last, when she was beginning to wonder whether he intended to speak to her at all, he said: ‘We’ll stop here. There’s a shelter I found once, when I was a boy, and we can talk. At least it will be dry.’

  Domine hesitated, but when he dismounted she waited only a moment before following suit. They were standing on the brink of a steep incline and James took his horse’s reins and led him down the steep slope and under an overhanging bluff of rock. Frowning, Domine followed his example, and found to her surprise that beneath the bluff there was a kind of shallow cave; a rocky opening hidden by undergrowth and clumps of prickly gorse. James had already tethered his horse to one of the overhanging bushes, and Domine fastened Rosie’s reins beside the hunter’s, before taking a good look around. James was standing just inside the mouth of the cave, and she could see that there were no hidden caverns beyond, just a concave wall of rock.

  James felt in his pocket and brought out a packet of cigarettes, extracting one and lighting it thoughtfully while his eyes watched Domine. Domine moved nervously. She felt rather like she might have done had she been summoned to Reverend Mother’s study at the convent. There was about James Mannering the same kind of censure. As he drew on his cigarette, making no immediate move towards telling her why he wanted to talk to her, she said, a little recklessly:

  ‘Couldn’t we get on with this? I mean—it’s not exactly cosy here, is it?’ She bit her lip. ‘If you’re going to humiliate me, why don’t you get it over with?’

  His eyes darkened. ‘Stop speaking to me as though I were an enemy,’ he exclaimed irritatedly. ‘I don’t know what’s got into you. When I brought you here, we could at least talk to one another.’

  ‘Could we?’ Domine kicked at a stone restlessly. ‘It was you who said men and women were always antagonists, remember?’

  He half-smiled. ‘You’re taking my words out of context. Our relationship is not that of a man and a woman!’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she flared. ‘That’s right! I forgot who I was talking to for a moment! I’d put my toys away in your absence. I shall have to take them out again!’ She hunched her shoulders and sighed. ‘Oh, why do you make me say these things?’ she asked unhappily. ‘I’m not a shrew, I’m not! But you won’t ever treat me like an equal!’

  He studied her countenance shrewdly. ‘Very well, Domine, when you stop behaving like a child, I’ll stop treating you like one.’

  Her eyes flickered, but she said nothing, and he went on: ‘I wanted to talk to you about Lucia.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Domine sounded disinterested. Always, after a few minutes in his presence, she felt this overwhelming sense of inadequacy. She always seemed to expect something exhilarating to happen, but nothing ever did, only this awful sense of anticlimax.

  ‘Yes,’ he said now. ‘What do you think of her?’

  Domine shrugged. ‘I can hardly see that my opinion matters,’ she said evasively.

  James compressed his lips. ‘Lucia is going to stay at Grey Witches. I want you two to like one another.’

  Domine wrinkled her nose. ‘We’re not characters in one of your plays, you know,’ she countered tartly. ‘We can’t be made to like one another just because you want it that way.’

  James was controlling his temper with obvious difficulty. ‘From that remark, I gather you didn’t like her,’ he said harshly.

  Domine shrugged. ‘She’s very—decorative,’ she commented half-contemptuously.

  ‘And you were very rude to her last night,’ he went on, quietly. ‘You didn’t even say good night.’

  Domine coloured. ‘I could see you didn’t want me around,’ she retorted.

  James threw his cigarette stub on the ground and stood on it firmly. ‘Are you trying to say something, Domine?’ he asked ominously.

  Domine fingered the stonework at the entrance to the cave. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  He shrugged. ‘If you like. I won’t promise to answer you.’

  Domine lifted her shoulders. ‘Well, you tell me, why did you bring her here?’

  He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Like she said, the press were hounding her.’

  ‘And you felt sorry for her?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘How touching!’ Domine was openly contemptuous now. ‘There should be headlines about you, really there should; James Mannering, the successful playwright, rescues yet

  another damsel in distress. Only six weeks ago, he offered a home to the orphaned daughter of his …’ She halted, half mockingly, half uncertainly. ‘What could we say your relationship was to my great-uncle?’ Her words were deliberately taunting, and she knew it, but some devil inside her, some desire for revenge, made her go on.

  ‘You little—’ He bit off the word, grasping her wrist and dragging her towards him. ‘You deserve a thrashing for that!’

  Domine was trembling but unrepentant. ‘Promises, promises!’ she murmured provocatively, and then gasped in horror when he dragged her across to the back of the cave where a rim of rock provided sitting space. Pulling her down across his knees, he proceeded to administer several hard slaps to her rear end, and despite all her struggling, she could not escape him.

  When he finally set her on her feet, she was almost crying, her eyes filled with unshed tears. ‘You—you beast!’ she stammered, trying to restore a little order to her rumpled garments. ‘Oh, how—how could you?’

  He rose beside her, looking down at her solemnly. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t ask for it,’ he muttered savagely, his eyes dark and disturbed. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you, but you’ve got to realize—’

  ‘What have I got to realize?’ she exclaimed tremulously. ‘That because I’m temporarily in your care, you can do what you like with me? That you can beat me if you want to?’

  ‘I didn’t beat you!’ he snapped furiously, ‘and you know it! I merely administered a salutory punishment!’

  ‘A salutory punishment!’ she echoed. ‘And would you do the same sort of thing to Lucia Marcinello if she dared to answer you back? Or Yvonne Park? Or Melanie, perhaps?’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he said fiercely, raking a hand through his hair.

  ‘What’s so ridiculous?’ She moved closer to him, looking up at him with derision in her eyes. ‘Of course, I was forgetting, they’re all victims to the fatal Mannering charm! What ways would a woman like Lucia Marcinello use to persuade you to understand her point of view? I realize my methods are rather inexperienced and unsophisticated, and I foolishly say what I think without guarding my tongue, but there must be ways …’

  ‘I warn you, Domine,’ he began.

  ‘Warn me?’ She bit back the tears burning at the back of her eyes. ‘What possible punishment can you offer now? You’ve done everything it’s in your power to do. You could confiscate my new clothes, of course, or forbid me to leave the house, but—’

  ‘Stop it!’ He almost shouted the words. ‘I brought you here for one reason, to discuss Lucia’s arrival and its possible effects on your position. But what happens? You deliberately turn the slight chance of communication into a kind of unholy crusade against supposed injustices! I get enough of that kind of thing from my mother, or hadn’t you noticed?’

  Domine sniffed unhappily. ‘Well, you certainly put me straight,’ she murmured chokingly. ‘I didn’t think even you—’ Her voice broke, and she turned away, breathing swiftly, trying to quell her tears.

  ‘Oh, Domine, for God’s sake!’ he groaned, half-impatiently. ‘All right, all right, I’m sorry! I lost my temper, and that was unforgivable. I’m sorry.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘But you goaded me beyond endurance! The last couple of weeks have been hell! I’ve been averaging three or four hours’ sleep in every twenty-four, and coming back here to confront a raging virago is not my idea of relaxation!’ He shook his head. ‘I’m not trying to excuse my actions, I’m just trying to explain—’ He broke off, swinging her round to face him. ‘Are you listening to me?’

  Domine rubbed the
back of her hand wearily across her eyes. ‘Every word,’ she answered in a small voice. ‘All right, you’ve explained your reasons, so can we go home?’

  ‘Domine!’ His voice was taut. ‘What would you have me say? I’ve apologized! What more can I do?’

  Domine lifted her shoulders. ‘Nothing, of course,’ she replied, dully, assailed by an awful sense of desolation.

  ‘Domine,’ he said again, pleadingly. ‘Look at me!’ and when she did so: ‘Have you forgiven me?’

  Domine bit her lip hard. ‘I’m not going to ease your conscience by saying yes,’ she replied, with a return of her indignation.

  His fingers suddenly gripped her forearms tightly, and he stared at her with tormented eyes. ‘You certainly want your pound of flesh, don’t you?’ he muttered thickly. ‘All right, Domine, you shall have it—’ and he pulled her trembling body close against the hard length of his own. Cupping her chin with one hand, he forced her to look up at him, and she quivered beneath the gaze of those brilliant blue eyes. Then his mouth came down on hers, forcing her lips apart, searching and demanding, destroying all the frail imaginings she had cherished of what a kiss might be. His hands slid round her back, caressing her waist, pressing her closer against him so that she could feel the heat of his body warming hers to life. While his mouth caressed every inch of her face and throat he unfastened her braid, threading his fingers through it so that it fell in a silky curtain about her shoulders. When his mouth returned to hers, her lips parted involuntarily, and as he buried his face in her hair, she slid her arms around his neck, drawing him closer.

  She didn’t know how long she was in his arms, she only knew that it was long enough to realize that this was where she wanted to be. He had awoken something inside her which had previously lain dormant, unaware of its potential, but now she knew the need of a woman for a man, and the hunger that only complete surrender could assuage.

  But even as she became aware of these desires, she felt something wet hit her arm, and then something else, and presently a steady splattering of water covered them. The discovery that it was raining now, and quite heavily, the water penetrating the overhanging shrubs, was sufficient to bring James to his senses, and he thrust Domine away from him almost violently.

  ‘My God!’ he muttered, shaking his head. ‘Thank heaven for the storm! I must be going out of my mind!’

  Domine stared at him shakily, aware of a look of loathing on his dark face. Turning, she stared out at the prematurely darkened sky, and the steady wall of rain that fell outside their small shelter. The mist had been lifted, but the visibility was still obscured by the rain, and she glanced down at the scarcity of protection a sweater and pants would offer. As though endeavouring to behave naturally, James said, in a taut voice:

  ‘There’s no point in both of us getting wet. I’ll ride back with the horses, and bring the Rover out to collect you.’

  Domine chewed at her lips. ‘I don’t want to stay here,’ she replied, shivering. ‘I’d rather take my chance in the storm.’

  ‘But it’s pouring,’ he exclaimed impatiently. ‘You’d catch your death of cold. It won’t take me many minutes, and you’ll be quite safe here.’

  ‘I want to come with you,’ she begged pleadingly. ‘Oh, James, don’t start looking angry again! What was so terrible about kissing me? Didn’t you want to kiss me?’

  His eyes darkened momentarily. ‘You must know what I wanted to do,’ he muttered, rather thickly. ‘But I despise the impulse!’

  ‘Why? Why?’ She swept back her hair from her face.

  ‘Because you’re a great many years younger than I am, and I’m your accepted guardian into the bargain!’ he replied heavily. ‘I can’t apologize again. But if it’s any consolation, I don’t have much self-respect!’

  ‘But you’ll admit I’m not a child,’ she exclaimed urgently.

  He brushed past her, dragging the reins of the hunter from the bushes. ‘No,’ he muttered savagely, ‘you’re not a child!’ He glanced back at her half angrily. ‘And if it pleases you, you have the power to infuriate me into actions I would otherwise believe myself incapable of.’ He looked up at the lowering sky. ‘But it won’t happen again. I promise you that.’

  Domine’s heart sank and out of the bitterness in her soul she taunted him: ‘How can you be sure?’

  He mounted the hunter expertly, and looked down at her. ‘Because I intend to place a considerable distance between us,’ he replied harshly. ‘And the sooner the better!’

  Domine bent her head. ‘You think you can plan your life so emotionlessly,’ she said unsteadily. She looked up. ‘Don’t emotions count for anything with you?’

  He shrugged. ‘Not a lot. What kind of emotions were you thinking of?’

  ‘How about—love?’ she murmured quietly.

  ‘Love?’ There was a cruel glint to his eyes. ‘What is love? I doubt if you know, and I admit I don’t. That’s a luxury that’s always been denied me.’

  ‘Your mother loves you!’ exclaimed Domine.

  ‘Does she? Or does she love the power that I unwittingly placed into her hands?’ He gave a scornful laugh. ‘And if you imagine the sexual urgency which we just shared has anything to do with that sweet emotion, then kill the thought. I admit—I wanted you, Domine. For my sins, I can’t deny it. But with you—or anyone else—the result would have been just as satisfying!’ and with that, he wheeled his horse and rode away.

  Domine stared after him, mounting the bluff and watching him press the hunter into a gallop. She felt the hot tears rolling unheeded down her cheeks, mingling with the rain, the only difference being the salty tang on her lips. Oh, how could he, how could he? she thought agonizingly. Were all men like him? Had they all this appetite that any woman could satisfy?

  Feeling sick with unhappiness, she slid back down the slope and untethered Rosie. At least he had not taken her horse, and if his intention was to return for her, then he was wasting his time. She had no intention of remaining here to wait for him and then have to endure the torture of riding home with him in the Land-Rover. She didn’t much care just then whether she got back to Grey Witches or not. Just so long as she didn’t have to spend any time alone in his presence until she had succeeded in gathering her pitiful store of defences about her.

  As luck would have it, Melanie saw her enter the stable yard, and Domine supposed she would inform her cousin that his ward had arrived back safely. Avoiding any conversation with the older girl, Domine just called:

  ‘Can I leave Rosie to one of the men? I’m soaked to the skin!’ and when Melanie nodded and began to walk towards her, Domine disappeared hastily into the house. She ran across the hall, and was mounting the stairs when she encountered Mrs. Mannering on her way down.

  ‘Domine!’ she exclaimed, halting her with a fastidious hand. ‘Whatever have you been doing to yourself? You’re soaked! And your hair—what’s happened to your braid?’

  Domine bent her head, avoiding Mrs. Mannering’s eyes. ‘I—I caught it on the—the—’ she sought about wildly for an answer, and finally came up with: ‘—on the branch of a tree. I—I was hurrying home in the storm, and I suppose I was clumsy.’

  It wasn’t much of an explanation and Mrs. Mannering frowned rather suspiciously. ‘You haven’t been meeting Vincent out on the moors, have you?’ she queried.

  Domine heaved a sigh. ‘No—no, of course not.’

  ‘But you were late home last evening, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure I’m not so late again.’

  Mrs. Mannering nodded. ‘Good. Did you—meet our new guest?’

  ‘Signora Marcinello? Yes, I did.’

  ‘What did you think of her?’ Mrs. Mannering’s frown deepened. ‘James seems to imagine he can bring all his lame ducks here.’

  Domine could hardly imagine that ‘lame duck’ was a reasonable description of someone as beautiful as Lucia Marcinello, but she presumed it was a kind of inverted dig at herself. However, sh
e said rather tentatively: ‘Signora Marcinello seems to need peace and quiet. At least, that’s what she said.’

  ‘Did she now? Well, she’s brought sufficient baggage to equip her for an indefinite stay. So long as she realizes this is not an hotel, and I’m not going to spend my time running about after her! I have enough to do as it is. I think it was most unreasonable of James to foist his—’

  Domine interrupted her. ‘Look,’ she said pleasantly, ‘can we leave this conversation until later? I’m frozen and I’m dripping water all over the stairs …’

  Mrs. Mannering shrugged her shoulders with ill grace. ‘Oh, very well,’ she snapped, ‘go about your business! Don’t let me hinder you! It’s obvious that no one gives a damn for my feelings. And even Melanie seems less than interested in James’s new girl-friend!’

  ‘Signora Marcinello has just been widowed,’ Domine pointed out, shivering a little.

  ‘Do you think that matters to a woman like her!’ Mrs. Mannering was contemptuous. ‘Not at all! I’ve no doubt they imagine they can indulge themselves in an illicit affair here, miles away from annoying publicists and the like! Well, they’re mistaken! I won’t have it, do you hear? I won’t have it. Not in my house!’

  Domine could have pointed out that this was not her house, it was James’s, but she hadn’t the energy to argue with her. Instead she merely nodded sympathetically, and excusing herself ran the rest of the way to her room.

  Once there, she stripped off all her garments, for she was indeed soaked to the skin and even her bra and panties were clinging wetly to her. She ran herself a steaming bath and was about to get into it when Lucy called that breakfast was ready. Ignoring the summons, Domine added some perfumed salts to the water and climbed into its warming depths with relief. The heat of the water was balm to her chilled flesh, and she slid down so that it could cover her shoulders completely.

  She lay there supine for almost half an hour, refusing to think of anything but the numbing temperature of the water. The haze of steam surrounded her, and she could have closed her eyes and banished all unwelcome thoughts in oblivion. But instead, after warming herself all through, she sat up and began to soap her body. As her misty brain began to re-assert itself, she was forced to admit thoughts of James Mannering, and the anxieties that this morning’s events aroused in her. She could not dismiss what had happened as he appeared to have done. For her it had closed one chapter in her life, and opened another, and no matter how many men she might know in the future no one else would awaken her as James’s touch had done. There had been a kind of suppressed violence in his lovemaking that had struck an answering chord inside her, and his expertise had taken her to the brink of ecstasy. A warm heat ran over her body as she recalled his caressing touch, and then it was followed by the chilling realization that she was not the first woman who had felt like this after being with him. Or the last! Her tortured brain mocked her.