She looked away sadly, reflecting that his perception was probably accurate but in its clarity almost cruel. Was Lucy really so heartless and selfish?
Justin’s voice recalled her. He was smiling, warmly and affectionately as though he had sloughed off the incident without effort, as he said quickly: ‘Now try to put it out of your mind. It’s spoiling an evening I was enjoying.’ He refilled their glasses and handed one to her. ‘To us — and Juliet.’
She obeyed, still tremulous, and when her glass was empty he said firmly: ‘I think we should dance.’
Perhaps it was the champagne, perhaps it was the full measure of that charm which could be exactly as Norene had once aptly termed it - devastating, but the chill ache began to melt and a warm sweet glow take its place. In Justin’s arms under the soft rose and amber lights of the dance floor she felt safe and happy.
‘Better now?’ he asked softly.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she whispered.
He turned her expertly, steering her out of the crowded centre. ‘You know, Toni,’ he said against the top of her hair, ‘you’re too tender-hearted. You suffer at the thought of what might have been. And there isn’t any need to. You’ve made Juliet very happy because you’ve given her a woman’s love. I can see the difference in her already. And in that you’ve made me happy because I can have her with me and know she’s being cared for in a way I could not provide.’
The waltz swirled into its final reprise and Toni surrendered to its nostalgic appeal. She forgot Lucy Sandanna and savoured the joy of the moment, laying her cheek against Justin’s shoulder and letting her whole being merge against him in the movement of the dance. Through Juliet she held him; somehow she would continue to hold him and some day he must turn to her for love. He had to. No man could shut love out of his life for ever ... And when that day came it would be to his wife; he was too honest, too principled to turn elsewhere ...
The last sweet hour flew; they finished the champagne and danced again, and at last it was time to go out into the warm darkness and turn towards home.
There was a sweet dreamlike quality about the moments when she slid across the cool leather of the car seat and it lingered in the silent dimness after the snapping out of the little roof light enclosed her with the dark outline of the man at the wheel. She could still feel the touch of his arms round her and remember the rise and fall of his breathing against her breast.
She closed her eyes and saw the outline of his mouth chiselled against fire, and the restless longing surged over her again. They had danced almost like lovers, yet she did not know those lips. Her heart began to hammer. He was so close to her; if she touched his arm, so that he turned towards her ...
The headlamps sprang to life and the car eased forward towards the arch of coloured lights over the car park entrance. She gave an involuntary sigh as she sank back, and he said in a prosaic aside: ‘Cold?’
“No.’ She did not turn her head and she sensed his relaxing back to follow the twisting streets that lead out of Port.
Soon the Mercedes soared up the hill and the lights of the bay came into view below, suspended like a bright necklace about the dark throat of the sea. Toni watched them diminish until the road curved sharply and suddenly there was only formless darkness where the shimmer had been. The car began the long descent down the winding road through the groves, and the brilliant twin probes of the headlights seemed to accentuate the sense of dark isolation within the car.
She moved restlessly, turning to steal a glance at the shadowy profile intent on the smooth mastery of driving. In less than five minutes they would be home; the evening over. Suddenly she wanted to delay its ending; banish somehow this desperate sense of incompleteness. She said impulsively:
‘Justin, go back by the grove.’
‘Whatever for?’ His profile did not flicker, nor the car’s speed slacken.
‘I don’t know. It’s such a perfect night. I - I’d like to walk in the darkness, by the sea.’
For a moment she held her breath, knowing the fork was very near, then she released it in a soft sigh as the deeper note of a lower gear accompanied the almost imperceptible checking of power. Justin swung the wheel to the right and said in an amused tone:
‘You sound just like Juliet when anything is preferable to postpone the evil hour of bedtime.’
‘Doesn’t that prove the evening has been a pleasant one?’ She sat up straight. ‘I enjoyed it immensely.’
‘Did you?’ The rhetorical response was calm, betraying no hint of his own feelings, and for a moment she pressed small white teeth into the softness of her lower lip. How could she communicate to him this suppressed exhilaration that had possessed her since those moments during the dance. How could she break that calm of his; strike an echoing note of her own excitement? Would he never be aware of her?
The wildness surged stronger in her veins; it was the same fever within a bond of tension as she had experienced many times before during the moments of waiting for the curtain to rise on a first night, during the waiting for a verdict of an audition; no, it was not new, this restless urge for action, the burning and the ice of face and limbs, but never before had the cause lain in a man, not even Kevin. Oh, Justin! she cried inwardly, can’t you understand? I can’t get through to you. You’re still a stranger, and I’m going crazy!
The car jolted to a standstill, and with a volition of their own Toni’s restless hands sought the switches on the dash and the silence was rent by the radio. There was a crackle and a squeal of oscillation, and she cried wildly: ‘How does it work? I want music.’ A trace of puzzlement in his face, he leaned forward and adjusted the dial. ‘I thought you wanted to walk by the sea.’
‘No, I want to dance.’
‘Dance? Here!’
‘Yes, that’s better.’ Her head poised, alert to the beat of a melody familiar but for the moment elusive as to name, and she put a restraining hand on his arm as he reached over again. ‘No, that’s perfect. Leave it.’
Heedless of his now startled expression she threw open the door and whirled out across the silvery floor of the grove. The moon touched the pale floating folds of her dress with a diaphanous radiance as she swayed and drifted, improvising freely to the melody that flowed into the sylvan reaches of woodland and merged with the muffled sighing of the sea. The tempo quickened, then slowed as her circle of movement brought her back to the car where Justin stood, his expression betraying amazement.
She held out her hands, surrendering prudence to the echoing night, and called: ‘Dance with me.’
He took a step forward, then halted. ‘Keep pace with that kind of performance? Oh, Toni, what’s got into you, for heaven’s sake?’
‘I told you.’ She was breathing more quickly. ‘I just want to dance again - with you.’
The music changed, to a slow sinuous rhythm, and she swayed before him, every part of her responding with the grace and easy control of long training. She caught at his hand, drawing him forward and laughing, and now her eyes were alight like stars. ‘It’s quite easy. You make a good partner, Justin - all you have to do is let the music carry you.’
Almost reluctantly he allowed himself to be drawn hand in hand to the centre of the clearing, where she suddenly paused and with an exultant movement kicked off both shoes and spun into his arms with a movement quick as light.
Justin blinked. A moment ago she had been away from him, still clasping his hand but with the distance of two outstretched arms between them, and now she had spun against him so that their joined arms were wound around her waist, somehow binding her to him. With a sigh he disentangled his arm and took her into the more conventional hold of the ballroom. Slowly they drifted round the grove.
‘You shouldn’t be dancing in bare feet,’ he said.
‘Oh, please!’ she breathed. ‘Don’t remind me about jiggers or whatever they are. I love the sand. It’s cool and gritty. I can dig my toes into it and listen to the sea sighing with my heart.’
&
nbsp; He slowed, staring down at her, the startled glint in his eyes hidden by shadows, and she stayed him with a pressure of her hand, to stand on tiptoe and look up at him, her eyes wide and luminous under the liquid skimming of moonlight. Slowly her fingers strayed to her hair, and in moments it was free of its confining combs and streaming through her fingers into a dark flowing cloud.
His hand tightened on her shoulder and he exclaimed: You’ve never done that before. Toni, you look like a wild fey thing. Are you—?’
‘I’m bewitched. Perhaps it’s the night. Perhaps this grove is magic ... ’ The wild sweet madness could not be contained any longer and with an exultant movement she reached up and enfolded her arms round him.
‘Justin ...’ she whispered. ‘Justin, love me ...’ It was a sigh against his mouth as her eyes closed and she melted against him.
The air stilled and the grove ceased its murmur through the leaves, then she heard his startled indrawn breath before his hands cupped the side of her head and drew it back.
‘What do you mean?’ he said in a harsh whisper.
In response her lips parted and her hands caressed the silvery shadows at his temples. ‘Oh, Justin,’ she murmured, ‘can’t you see ...?’
Still he stared down at her, immobile as in a trance. She began to speak, and in the same moment he jerked harshly: ‘This is madness. Toni ...’ His fingers tightened convulsively. ‘Don’t do something you’ll regret bitterly afterwards.’
‘Regret!’ She froze, and the trembling confession of love died on her lips. Dreadful sanity returned as she stared at his tense features and slowly control came to her quivering body. She forced an unsteady laugh.
‘Heavens, Justin, must you be so dramatic? Regrets! Do you think a man has sole monopoly on an approach? Do you imagine a girl never feels the need of a man’s kisses?’
‘Kisses!’ He seemed unable to believe what he was hearing. ‘If I— ’ The grasp of his hands bit painfully into her flesh while his eyes raked the brilliance of hers and the feverish intensity of her taut features.
‘If I ... Oh, God!’ he gritted. ‘You’re drunk! Sky-high on champagne.’
Slowly his arms fell away from her and she took an unbelieving step back.
Drunk! Was that what he thought? Shock and despair coursed through her and brought the instant urge to retaliate, to defend. Her lips parted, and then shame was ascendant. Had she really succumbed to madness? Had she really offered herself so blatantly, begging his love, only to be repulsed? And he thought she was ...
Without pausing to think she seized on the way of extenuation which suddenly seemed the miracle she needed so desperately. Better he should think that than ...
Slowly she raised her head and gazed at him with wide-eyed deliberation. She gave a breathy little sigh and giggled: ‘Is that what it is? But I don’t feel tipsy, Justin.’
With another little giggle she executed a small skipping step and contrived to stumble at the end of it. ‘I’ve never been drunk, Justin.
It’s wonderful.’
‘Toni!’
‘Don’t you feel a little bit happy as well? As though you don’t care what happens any more?’ She swayed in front of him in a travesty of her former dancing grace and ran one hand through her hair, contriving to make it more disordered than ever.
‘No,’ he said curtly, ‘I don’t. Come on, we’d better get back.’
‘Mmm ... Can’t. I’ve lost my shoes.’ She went limp and flopped like a rag doll on the sand, gazing vacantly around her and tracing formless patterns in the sand. ‘Have you seen my shoes, Justin?’
Through the tears that tried to squeeze through half-closed lids she watched him swing away impatiently and snatch up the shoes and combs and wrap which were scattered across the grove. How could she have been so crazy? She had played the part of a wanton to try to spark some response in him and had succeeded only in rousing his disgust. She saw him return with long heavy strides and summoned the heartbreaking determination to play out the scene to its bitter finale.
And now the discipline of her long training in stagecraft came to her aid. With solemn, intent movements she put on her shoes; very slowly and fumbling a little, she put the combs awry into her hair and then draped the stole about her shoulders, adjusting it fussily. She stretched out her hands and waited for him to pull her to her feet.
‘Thank you.’ She giggled again and reached for him. ‘This is fun. We must do this again.’
His avoidance was a physical pain and with a choked sob she turned blindly away.
‘Not that way.’ He overtook her stumbling steps and grasped her arm.
‘No ...?’ She shook her head and stopped. ‘Justin, I - I think I’m going to—’
She swayed, and with a muffled exclamation he grabbed her bodily in his arms, carrying her swiftly to the car and putting her awkwardly into the back seat. She sighed and huddled into the corner as though asleep, staying motionless and soundless while he got into the driving seat and drove quickly up to the villa.
When the car halted she sprang into action. Before he had time to move she was out of the car and running wildly into the villa, into her room where she could lock the door and fling herself on her bed to give way to the anguish of despair.
How was she ever to face Justin again? After this?
CHAPTER TEN
‘Toni!’
The low voice was roughened with anxiety, and the distraught girl tensed warily, staring with haunted eyes across the dim room.
‘Toni!’ An imperative note sharpened Justin’s voice. ‘Are you all right?’
Her mouth trembled and set stubbornly, and she stayed unmoving, willing him to go away. In the pale fingers of early morning light she looked like a small, storm-tossed flower crumpled in the passing of the tempest. She pushed the dark curtain of hair back from her white face and peered at her watch. It seemed unbelievable that she had slept through the last hour before dawn.
‘Toni! If you don’t answer me immediately I’ll break down the door.’
Oh, God! She put her hand to her throbbing head. Please send Justin away. Let me have time before I face him. Time to ...
‘Listen, Toni. If you can hear me, for heaven’s sake answer. Oh, I—!’ There was an ominous pause, then a thud and the door shuddered in its frame.
Her hand flew to her mouth and she remembered Juliet. ‘No!’ she cried. ‘No, Justin. I’ll— She fled to the door and scrabbled at the key with shaking hands. Abruptly it turned and she fell back as it opened violently and Justin loomed in the opening.
‘So you are all right!’ he gritted. ‘Why the locked door? Or can’t you even remember that?’ His expression grimmer than she had ever seen it, he took in the dishevelled dress so obviously slept in, and the jumbled heap of the counterpane on the bed. His mouth compressed and he moved outside the door, to reappear with a tray.
‘How was I to know if you were all right?’ he went on angrily. “You could have been ill. Don’t ever dare do that again.’
He swung towards her and held out a glass of tomato juice. ‘Here, by the look of you you need this.’
She gaped. ‘What’s that?’
‘Tomato juice with Worcester sauce - it’s one of the standard remedies for what you’re suffering from just now.’
‘But I’m not ... I haven’t a—’ She stopped. The charade was not yet ended. It was too late for the truth; the only possible alternative. A hangover! she thought bitterly and felt hysterical laughter threatening.
Unable to meet his eyes, she accepted the glass and stood by the window as she forced herself to sip. If only she could have a cup of tea!
‘I think you’d better sit down as well.’ He drew a chair forward and pressed her into it none too gently. ‘When you’ve drunk that you can follow up with black coffee.’
She watched him go to the tray and pour strong steaming coffee into two cups. He came back and looked down grimly at her white face. Her gaze dropped. No wonder he looked disgusted. Oh,
why ... ?
But the power of his personality could not be evaded, and when he drew the glass from her hand and tendered the coffee she raised her head and reluctantly met his gaze. She whispered: ‘I’m sorry. I
- I don’t know what to say. Please believe me, Justin, I—’ The effort was too much and she stared down into the dark circle of liquid.
He said, ‘Now drink some coffee, you’ll feel better afterwards.’ Silently he watched her obey, then, about to sit down, turned abruptly to the window. The Venetian blinds clicked softly as he released them and the misty apricot light of the young day flowed into the room.
The distress in her face could no longer be hidden. The light searched out and high-lighted the dark violet smudges round her eyes and the tell-tale traces of the tears shed during the lonely dark hours.
With a muffled exclamation Justin went to her side. He said gently, ‘My dear, you’ve been weeping. Surely not because of ... Oh, Toni, it isn’t a tragedy. You’re not the first and you certainly won’t be the last youngster to underestimate what champagne can do.’ He put his arm round her shoulders and drew her against him. ‘Now forget it. It isn’t worth a single moment of regret.’
The sudden change in his attitude was almost too much for her shaky control. She whispered, ‘But I can’t help feeling dreadful about it. It - it had been such a lovely day, and - and that lovely meal. I - I feel so ashamed I could—’
‘No! I’ve told you forget it. I shall, if that’s what’s worrying—’ He checked suddenly and drew back, then ejaculated: ‘Of course! That lovely meal.’
Something about his glance made her catch her breath. He was almost laughing under the rueful recollection and annoyance playing over his expression. ‘You had that infernal dessert! The concoction of fruit and crunchy stuff. It was swimming in liqueur. After an aperitif and all that champagne ... No wonder you couldn’t take it. I should have realized.’
His mouth compressed, this time with annoyance against himself. He sighed and stood up to replace the cups on the tray. ‘I don’t suppose you feel much like breakfast.’
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