White Rivers

by White Rivers (retail) (epub)

  For dinner that evening, she wore the bronze silk dress with her long bronze beads, and then fastened a beaded headband around her forehead. Philip had always disapproved of the fashion, saying it should be left to the Red Indians to adorn themselves in such a way, but she had always adored it. And Philip wasn’t here…

  ‘You look sensational,’ Nick told her, when they descended to the dining-room together. Apart from that one compliment, he was extremely civilised for the whole evening, and she couldn’t fault him. But if it was the only verbal compliment, what she saw in his eyes and gestures said far more than words. She knew he wanted her, and she was fraught with nerves once more when they retired to their separate rooms, wondering how she would react, if…

  ‘Goodnight, Skye. Sleep well,’ he said gravely, raising her hand to his lips as he left her at her door.

  She went inside, almost slamming the door behind her, trembling, her knees shaking. And calling herself all kinds of a fool for the raging passion inside her. He was her lawyer, for God’s sake. He would never compromise himself, certainly not in a public hotel. He respected her… and she almost wept with frustrated longing, knowing that she wanted him with all her heart. She felt utterly rejected – and disgusted with herself for her own stupidity.

  She undressed quickly and climbed into the unfamiliar bed, burying her face in the pillow and trying to make her mind a complete blank. Anything, rather than imagine Nick Pengelly in the room next door… sleeping in a bed similar to hers, with only a wall separating them. For all that, it might as well have been an ocean.

  * * *

  Despite spending a restless night, by the following morning Skye felt more composed. They were going to visit The Laurels later, and that was the sole purpose of the afternoon. Meanwhile, while Nick went off to see his ex-partner, he had already arranged for a taxicab to take her around the city for a little sightseeing.

  It was a pleasant way to spend a morning, she conceded, though eventually she dispensed with the driver’s services and wandered through the little backstreets with their quaint, old-fashioned shop fronts that seemed as if they were of another age. She bought a few trinkets for the children from a Friday market stall, and found the taxi driver again at the appointed time and place to take her back to the hotel for a light lunch. By then she was more than thankful to sit down.

  ‘Did you have an enjoyable morning?’ Nick asked her.

  ‘Very, thank you. And you?’

  ‘Oh yes. William seems highly pleased with his new life here, and he’s looking forward to meeting you.’

  They were behaving like strangers. And if it was because she was symbolically holding him at arm’s length, it was because it had to be. They both knew that. By the time they set out for The Laurels that afternoon, she knew it was safer to keep things on a very cool footing between them.

  ‘So what do you think?’ he asked her at last, when the matron had tactfully left them alone after showing them over every inch of the place, including the sunny room that was available for Albert Tremayne, its windows looking out onto a wide expanse of the Downs. It was quite luxurious, but that very fact saddened Skye even more.

  ‘I was going to say I think he’ll be very happy here – but he won’t, will he? He won’t even know where he is.’

  ‘The important thing is that this is a specialist home, caring for people in your uncle’s condition. And you’ll always know that you did your very best for him.’

  She nodded slowly. She could almost hear her mother’s unspoken approval in her head. Primmy would be glad her daughter had done her best for her beloved Albie.

  ‘Then I think we should confirm it,’ she said unsteadily.

  Nick reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘Good girl. We’ll go and see about the paperwork and then it will be done.’

  He was as efficient as ever, while Skye felt as exhausted as if she had climbed a mountain. She was oddly disorientated, and for a few breathless moments she felt the strangest sensation, as if her mind was skimming backwards over the years in a life that wasn’t entirely her own. Watching all those others in past times, as if she was seeing them through a moving camera… especially the womenfolk.

  Skye had never known her great-grandmother Bess Tremayne, but she knew all about her. And Bess’s stoical image was suddenly real, moving with her family from the poor cottage on the moors to the pit manager’s house. Going up in the world.

  Morwen was even more real. That wild and beautiful young girl, marrying the son of the boss, Ben Killigrew, and raising three children who weren’t her own, including Primmy and Albert, then their own two. Then came Morwen’s second marriage to Ran Wainwright, and the three children of that union. All of them strong, in their different ways. Primmy, Skye’s mother, had been as wild and wilful as any of them in marrying her cousin Cresswell against all advice.

  And Skye was just as strong as any or all of them, or so she had always believed herself to be…

  ‘Drink this, my dear.’

  She heard the female voice close to her ear, and blinked hard. She never fainted… but she presumed that she must have fainted now. She did as she was told without thinking, and grimaced at the bitter taste of brandy. The arms holding her tightly belonged to Nick Pengelly, openly concerned as the matron of The Laurels took the glass from her lips.

  ‘Are you feeling better?’ he asked. ‘You had a momentary lapse of concentration.’

  If he was being kind in calling it thus, the matron was more adamant in suggesting that their resident doctor should take a look at the young lady.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ Skye said, struggling to regain her composure. ‘I’m perfectly all right, and it was simply a case of trying to cope with the fact that my uncle must come here. Not that I can fault it, Matron, and I know you will do your best for him,’ she added hastily.

  ‘Naturally,’ the woman said.

  Nick insisted that she sat still while he dealt with the paperwork that didn’t need her signature, and by the time they left The Laurels, Skye had recovered. It was a fait accompli now, and Albert Tremayne would shortly begin to live out the rest of his life in this place.

  ‘Thank goodness for this evening’s little dinner party,’ Nick said as they made their way back across the Downs. ‘You need a bit of cheering up after that little ordeal.’

  She looked at him with active dislike, wondering how he could be so insensitive. He never even asked if she felt well enough to go out, nor had he questioned the reason for her strange mood at The Laurels. But when she looked into his eyes, she knew that he cared, and that this was his way of showing it right now. If he had acted any differently, she would probably have simply fallen apart.

  But it had been more of a traumatic afternoon than Skye had anticipated. She felt as if she had literally signed Albert’s life away. She had never wanted to feel responsible for him, but that choice had somehow been taken away from her. She was the only one – apart from Nick – who had cared enough to do this, but far from making her feel noble, or even resentful, it simply set her nerves on edge.

  She was thankful to return to the hotel and take afternoon tea in the sunny lounge overlooking the Avon Gorge, and to start to feel like a normal person again.

  ‘Better now?’ Nick asked.

  ‘Did I make an awful fool of myself in front of Matron?’ she asked, feeling as gauche as a schoolgirl at asking the question.

  Nick laughed gently. ‘Of course not. This has been an ordeal for you, Skye, but I hope that this evening will restore your usual spirits.’

  She dearly longed to say she had no wish at all to go to a dinner party in the company of strangers. That all she wanted was to go to her room and stay there until they could take the train back to Cornwall in the morning. But that would be churlish in the extreme after all Nick’s kindness.

  Later, wearing the beautiful ensemble she had worn at Vera’s wedding, her own reflection did a great deal to revive those flagging spirits. Nick came to collect
her for the evening, and she couldn’t miss the admiration in his eyes as he stepped inside her room.

  ‘I’m glad you wore this tonight,’ he said simply. ‘It reinforces the feelings I had, the first time I saw you.’

  ‘I’m sure I shouldn’t ask what you mean by that,’ she murmured. ‘So I won’t.’

  ‘Then I won’t tell you,’ he said maddeningly. ‘But no Cornishwoman would deny the truth of love at first sight.’

  ‘But I’m not a born and bred Cornishwoman. I’m an American, and an ex-journalist,’ Skye said brutally. ‘And we don’t pay so much attention to all that mushy stuff.’

  ‘No? Anyway, I didn’t fall in love with you on my brother’s wedding day.’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  Whether he did or did not, why should she care, or believe his nonsense? He was only saying these things to keep her light-hearted after the tension of the day.

  ‘I fell in love with an image of a woman more beautiful than anyone I had ever seen before. A portrait of a goddess that stayed in my mind and wouldn’t give me any peace until I found her. And when I did, she was more beautiful than ever in a shimmering green outfit.’

  ‘Stop it, please Nick,’ Skye said quickly, aware that the teasing had stopped and that he was becoming far too serious for comfort.

  He caught at her hands. ‘Can you deny that we’ve come full circle in a way, my darling girl? I saw your image first of all in your uncle’s studio, and then I found you. Your uncle had more than a hand in our fate, whatever you might think. And now we’ve come here together to settle his future.’

  ‘But not ours,’ she said jerkily. ‘And it wasn’t my portrait that you saw. It was my mother’s. Everything you’re saying is a sham. You can’t love me – you mustn’t. I have a husband and children. I have a life that doesn’t include you.’

  She knew she was pushing them oceans apart again. But that was the way it had to be, even if it broke her heart.

  Nick turned abruptly, as if unable to bear seeing the truth of it in her eyes. It was time they left, anyway, and the cab he had ordered would be waiting for them. He was once more the cool-headed lawyer, so adept in switching off his emotions, while Skye’s were still churning inside.

  She tried to keep her emotions under control as the vehicle took them down to the centre of the city, and into a small side street where William Pierce had his double-fronted antique shop and living quarters above.

  It was time to put on a social face; prepare to meet and talk with strangers, and to be what she was – Skye Norwood, wife and mother and matron, and nothing else. And then they were ushered inside a cosy living room, where a man and a slender, dark-haired girl rose to greet them.

  ‘Come in, both of you,’ William said warmly. ‘So this is the beautiful lady I’ve heard so much about. I began to think you were a myth, from the way Nick has kept you hidden away all this time, Mrs Norwood, but now I see why!’

  ‘Please call me Skye,’ she said, a little taken aback at such blatant flirting, and already wondering if there were to be any other guests besides themselves.

  ‘Skye it is, then. This is my fiancée, Queenie, and tonight the four of us are going to celebrate our engagement. Quite a turn-up, wouldn’t you say, Nick?’

  ‘I certainly would, you old devil!’ Nick exclaimed, clearly stunned by the announcement. ‘Why didn’t you tell me this morning? I knew there was something you were keeping from me, but I never guessed it was this! And my apologies for seeming ungallant, Queenie, but this old rogue has been a confirmed bachelor for so long, I never thought any young lady would snare him.’

  ‘I think you should quit right there, Nick. You’re putting your feet further and further into your mouth,’ Skye said, laughing with the other girl, who didn’t seem to take any offence as she linked her arm in William’s.

  ‘Oh, it’s perfectly all right,’ Queenie said. ‘Will and I expected raised eyebrows at our whirlwind engagement.’

  ‘And when is the wedding to be?’ Nick said, clearly unable to think of anything else to say. It was the first time Skye had seen him nonplussed, and it pleased her to know he was human after all.

  ‘Next summer. And you’ll both be invited,’ Queenie said.

  There was a small silence. How could they both be invited, in the way Queenie said it? They weren’t a normal couple, even though this dinner party now seemed more like a romantic quartet than anything else. Skye accepted that Nick couldn’t have known of it though. And once the initial awkwardness was past, she admitted too that the other two were nice people, and the evening was highly enjoyable.

  She found herself wishing that she and Philip had such friends with whom to spend an evening, and realised, almost with a shock, that they did not. They had relatives, and he had his college chums, but apart from that, they hardly socialised at all.

  For the first time in years, she also realised what she was missing from her busy working days at home in New Jersey. Those days were so long ago, and yet they suddenly surfaced in her mind, vividly and nostalgically, and she was shocked to think she had become so insular as to be almost anonymous…

  She pushed such ridiculous feelings aside, determined not to cloud the other couple’s happiness. But for all her pleasure in sharing the social evening, she was glad to return to the hotel. When you were on the outside looking in, such obvious happiness was almost too much to bear…

  ‘Why so pensive, Skye?’ Nick asked, as the taxicab took them back to The Georgian Hotel. ‘I hope you enjoyed the evening as much as I did, though I must admit the engagement was a big surprise to me.’

  ‘I enjoyed it very much. I liked William, and I thought Queenie was charming. They’ll make a good marriage.’

  ‘But?’ he asked. He leaned towards her in the darkened cab, and she could feel his breath on her cheek, warm and wine-sweet.

  ‘But nothing,’ she said steadily.

  ‘Maybe you think the engagement happened too quickly?’

  ‘It’s no business of mine.’

  ‘You have a right to your opinion. After all, William’s hardly been in Bristol for five minutes, and here he is, his future already settled while I’m still searching for mine.’

  ‘Are you?’ She turned her head too quickly, and without warning she felt his lips brush hers. She moved away at once, remembering who she was, and where she was, and that there was a third party in the vehicle with them.

  She heard Nick give a soft laugh. ‘No. But it’s my misfortune that the lady doesn’t feel the way I do.’

  She refused to rise to the bait, and was relieved when they reached the hotel, and she didn’t have to sit beside him in such close proximity.

  It was very late by now. Most of the other guests had retired for the night long ago, and there was only a sleepy-eyed porter on duty as they entered the foyer. He bade them goodnight, and as they quietly climbed the stairs, Skye found herself imagining that they were truant schoolchildren, sneaking in after hours… but children they were not.

  ‘We could be the only two people in the whole world,’ Nick whispered, as if reading her mind as they reached the second floor. ‘And I wish to God that we were, then I would never have to let you go.’

  Skye caught her breath, aware that her heart was thudding, and that her fingers on her door handle had been covered by his.

  ‘But we’re not the only two people in the world, are we?’ she whispered back.

  ‘We could be, just for tonight,’ Nick said, his arm reaching for her, and drawing her into him. ‘Just for this one night, my sweet darling Skye, we could be all that fate intended us to be to one another.’

  Her pulse was pounding so hard now that she could hardly breathe. He was so close, and so dear, and she wanted him so much… and had done so for so long…

  ‘Just for this one night.’ She repeated the words in a huskiness of sound, as if it was a litany. As if she was giving her consent, as she had always known she would. As if it had always been inevitable that they wo
uld become lovers…

  And then Nick was opening her door, and they moved inside the room as if they were one person, still holding one another, still clinging together as if they would never let each other go and this night was never going to end.

  Chapter Twelve

  Skye awoke slowly, her limbs relaxed and filled with a delicious feeling of lethargy. Dreamily, she wished she could lie here for ever. The day ahead was not wanted. She wasn’t ready to face it yet, nor to fully come to her senses. She was in a sort of blissful never-never land, her eyes still closed, the bed a soft cocoon of warmth… Then she felt the touch of someone’s mouth covering hers, his body as close to hers as if it was a second skin. Her arms automatically wound around his neck… and her eyes inched open.

  Memories flooded her mind in an instant. Wanton memories of a night that held the wonder of love and lust combined, of exquisitely intimate kisses and caresses that went far beyond those of tentative young lovers… Of herself and her beloved passionately exploring one another, glorying in one another, hungering for each other, and of her need for him soaring to meet his for her in every respect. Without shame. Without guilt. With only love.

  Were they truly memories, or part of a wild and erotic imagination? But she knew. Of course she knew. But she still needed to ask, to be reassured that this was love…

  ‘Nick.’ His name was no more than a breath of sound in her throat. ‘Tell me it really happened. Tell me it wasn’t all a dream.’

  His answer was to gently pull the sheet from her naked body and kiss her breasts. She felt the sweet tug on her nipples, and there was an instant, answering flame of desire in the core of her. How could she ever doubt that this was what she wanted with all her heart for all of her life?

  ‘If it was a dream, then we’re still dreaming and I want to go on loving you for ever and never have to wake up,’ he murmured against her willing flesh.

  ‘Neither do I – but we know that we must,’ she whispered again as reality took over her consciousness. ‘We have to go back to being what we are. We can’t escape our obligations.’