Sally Wentworth - Tiger in His Lair Page 15

  Romily let that go, but said, 'Did Gerald know that the blood tests were done?'

  'I don't know,' answered James with a shrug. 'My solicitors certainly informed Carol of the results, but I left it to her to tell Gerald. Why?'

  'She never told him,' said Romily on a disbelieving note. 'He still doesn't know and now he doesn't want to. He's afraid to, I think.' They sat in silence for a few minutes until she asked. 'Why didn't you tell me all this before? When I asked you why you'd broken up with Carol?'

  'Because it's all so damn sordid,' he explained vehemently. 'And because it all ought to be forgotten and done with. Having to admit to you that I'd had an affair with Carol was bad enough, but this as well

  She turned away and looked at the rod which had started to quiver. 'But why should you care so much how I feel about it?'

  'You know damn well why,' James told her forcefully.

  Romily almost cried out that she didn't know, that he had never told her, but instead she said with difficulty, 'Did you ever tell Carol that you loved her?'

  He looked away, his mouth set into a grim, bleak line. 'Yes, probably I did. At the beginning. It was easy to say that to a woman, especially when you were making love to her. They—they expected it. It seemed to make it better for them if they thought it wasn't just sex. Even though they knew that in reality it wasn't true. But since Carol I've never made that mistake again. I've never told a woman that I loved her because it hasn't been true.' He laughed harshly. 'At least I learned that from Carol; not to be dishonest to a woman even if she wants you to lie.'

  He turned to say something else to her, but the line began to jerk and she jumped to her feet. 'Oh, I've caught a fish! Quick, what do I do?'

  'Don't you know?'

  'No. Somebody just left the line here.'

  'Here, take it in your left hand and start to reel the fish in with your right.' He came up behind her to put his hands over hers, showing her how to gradually pull the fish into the bank. But the line suddenly went slack and when James lifted it out of the water they saw that it was empty. 'It got away.' James replaced the rod on its stand and turned to her. 'Let's go back to the boathouse,' he said urgently.

  Romily shook her head. 'No, I—I don't think so.'

  'Why not?'

  'I'd like to—think things over.'

  His mouth grew grim. 'I thought you cared enough to trust me. Don't tell me you still believe Carol?'

  'No, but I…' Her eyes filled with tears. 'Somehow I feel—dirty!' And then she turned and ran back to the house as James watched her, his eyes bleak and dejected.

  That evening, Gerald again begged her to stay on, appealing to her loyalty, telling her that they'd never get anyone to replace her, especially at this point in the season.

  'Maybe I'll be able to find someone for you,' she offered. 'I'll write to the college where I trained, they might know of someone who's looking for a job.'

  'A student's no good to me,' Gerald exclaimed. 'I've got to have someone who's experienced.'

  'I didn't mean a student. The college often acts as a sort of employment agency for old pupils.'

  'Promise me that you won't leave us in the lurch,' he entreated her. 'At least promise me that.'

  'All right,' she agreed with a sigh. 'But you've got to promise to look out for someone as well.'

  So they agreed to compromise, and that evening Romily wrote off to her old college giving details of the job, making it sound as attractive as possible, although she didn't think there was much chance of finding anyone who would be willing to work in such a remote place.

  She didn't see James or try to phone him for the next two days, but she knew that she would have to make her mind up about him soon; he wasn't the kind of man who would let the situation go on indefinitely. He would want her again soon and then he would come looking for her. The following morning she was standing in the kitchen, gazing into nothingness, wondering whether or not to call James and what she would say to him if she did, when Carol came into the room.

  'My dear Romily, how pensive you look!' she observed with her artificial laugh. 'What's the matter, is James getting tired of your rather obvious charms? You really shouldn't be so eager, dear, it ' always puts a man off.'

  Romily turned to face her, suddenly filled with hate. 'Well, you should know,' she pointed out acidly.

  Carol's eyes narrowed in open dislike. 'You've refused to believe me all along, haven't you? But I assure you that James only used you so that he could come here and see me again. Oh, he knows I won't leave Gerald now, but he had to come and ask me one last time.'

  'Really? When?'

  'When we were alone together for those few minutes during the party,' Carol replied smoothly. 'Don't you remember? I sent you into the kitchen to go and start serving the food?'

  'My God, Carol, you're a liar! James wouldn't touch you with a bargepole, and you know it!'

  Her sister-in-law bristled angrily. 'You think so? Well, what if I proved to you otherwise? What if I rang him up and told him to meet me?'

  'He wouldn't come,' Romily scoffed. 'He wouldn't even speak to you.'

  'No? Well, let's find out, shall we?' And Carol strode over to the phone on the wall. 'You see,' she said as she dialled, 'I don't even have to look up the number, I know it off by heart.' After a moment someone answered the phone and she said, 'I'd like to speak to Mr Gordon, please. It's Mrs Bennion. No, Mrs Carol Bennion.'

  Romily gazed at her, waiting for James to refuse to speak to her, but after only a short time Carol gave one of her cat-with-the-cream smiles and said, 'Hello, James.' Again Romily expected her to be cut off, but she went on, 'Darling, I've changed my mind. I've decided I will do what you want, after all. When? Now, if you like. Why, at our old meeting place, of course, over at the island. No, darling, it's there or nowhere. See you shortly then, darling.'

  Putting down the phone, she laughed at Romily's appalled face. 'I did warn you, didn't I? As you saw, I only had to lift a finger.'

  'I don't believe you,' Romily burst out. 'It wasn't James you were talking to. He wasn't on the other end of the line.'

  Carol laughed delightedly. 'Oh, ye of little faith— or too much faith, in James's case. Come and see for yourself. You do know what his boat looks like, presumably?'

  For a moment Romily was too stunned to move, but then she ran after Carol as she went down the garden and stopped in the screening shadow of a huge rhododendron bush just coming into flower, its buds full to bursting with mauve petals. There Carol waited, watching the island. Romily stood beside her, still not really believing, until a few minutes later they saw James's boat coming fast across the lake and steering towards the island.

  'You see,' Carol laughed. She turned a triumphant face towards the younger girl. 'James could make do with you when he knew that I wasn't available, but now hell drop you for the little tart you are!' Laughing again, she turned and ran down to the jetty, jumped into the boat and sped across to the island where James had tied up his boat and was waiting.

  As Romily watched in sickened horror, James helped Carol out of the boat and the next second she was in his arms, clinging to him for a long moment before they both turned and went into the house.

  Romily's legs gave way under her and she slumped down at the foot of the bush, the feeling of betrayal again flooding her, only twice as painfully this time. She tried to tell herself that it was a trick, but she had heard every word that Carol had said to him, had seen them embrace with her own eyes. Maybe it was true, maybe James had been using her to make Carol jealous, to drive her back to him. She longed to get as far away from them as possible, but some forlorn hope held her where she was, staring at the house on the island as her tortured mind pictured all that might be happening there. Were they making love. Were they discovering the delight in each other's bodies that they had known before?

  It was almost an hour before they came out, Carol walking jauntily ahead of James. They got into their boats and left separately as they h
ad come.

  Romily ran back to the house and up to her bedroom, snatched up her car keys and ran down again, taking two or three stairs at a time. Gravel went flying up from her tyres as she accelerated the car up the driveway, and the postman's van coming down the other way had to swerve to avoid her. She drove so fast that she reached the boathouse at the same time as James did and jumped out of the car to run on to his jetty. 'You louse!' she yelled at him as he jumped on to the jetty with the mooring line in his hand. 'You rotten god-damned liar! I hope she makes your life hell!'

  She began to run back towards her car as James shouted, 'Wait!' and hastily wrapped the mooring rope round a bollard. 'Romily, wait!'

  But she had got back into her car and he had to leap out of the way as she shot forward, turning to go back towards the road.

  'Romily!' He started to run after her, but she put her foot hard down and tore up to the road, turning into it on screeching tyres without even bothering to look to see if the way was clear. Her anger carried her on down past the turning to Abbot's Craig and for a couple of miles further along the narrow road before the tears started to come. Her foot eased off the accelerator and she realised where she was. She had no idea where she was going but she kept on driving anyway. What the hell else was there?

  It was a few minutes later that she noticed the car coming fast down the road after her, and recognised it as James's. Immediately the fury returned a hundredfold and she pressed her foot into the floor, sending her little car bucketing down the steep hillside, taking the bends on the wrong side, her hands shaking with rage as she held the wheel, her eyes still full of tears. She didn't turn into the next bend until it was too late and hit the roadside with a sickening thud. She screeched to a halt and ended up with the front of the car half buried in the hedge. Romily scrambled out, her heartbeat suspended with fear, vaguely aware that James, too, had screeched to a halt and was getting out of his car.

  A few seconds later he was beside her. 'Get in the car, Romily.'

  'Go to hell!' she shouted furiously.

  'All right but you're coming with me.' She started to run, but he easily caught her and swung her over his shoulder.

  'You swine—put me down!'

  She beat at his back as hard as she could, but he merely dumped her into the car and held her there while he got in himself, then drove quickly back towards the castle.

  'Let me out of here!' Romily yelled at him, and tried to bite his hand. 'Why don't you go back to your beloved Carol?'

  James cursed and drew up in the castle courtyard with a jerk. 'I don't want Carol. You're what I want, God help me!' And lifting her out of the car he carried her kicking and shouting across the drawbridge, through the main hall and up the stairs to the bedroom with the huge four-poster bed. He set her down on her feet, but she immediately began to kick and hit out at him, using her nails to try and scratch his face, shouting abuse at him through tears of rage.

  'For God's sake, you little vixen! Will you be still and listen to me?'

  'No! No, I hate you. You worm—you rotten liar!'

  'All right, don't then,' James yelled back, his patience suddenly snapping. 'But maybe this will get to you!' And he began to tear at her dress.

  'Oh!' Romily gave a gasp of stunned surprise and began to fight him in earnest, but she was no match for his strength, especially now that he was angry, and he soon picked her up and dropped her on to the bed, pinning her arms above her head, his weight on top of her. 'Now will you listen to me?'

  'Why the hell should I?' she shouted. Then, on an angry despairing note, 'How could you just go to her when she ordered you to like that? How could you?'

  James's blue eyes grew harsh. 'Just what do you think we were doing out there?'

  'Making love, of course. What else would Carol want you for?' Romily retorted furiously, trying to hurt.

  'Why, you little…' He glared at her menacingly, his jaw thrust forward. Disgustedly, he said, 'I don't think you're ever going to learn to really trust me.' At that she turned her head to look at him and he said bitterly, 'I went there to meet Carol because on the night of the party I'd asked her to sell Abbot's Craig to me. Today, after a lot of haggling, she agreed.'

  Romily's mouth fell open as she stared at him 'You're—you're going to buy her out?'

  'Yes. With the proviso that she doesn't live within a hundred miles of here.'

  'But—but what about Gerald? Will he agree?'

  'He doesn't have much choice; Abbot's Craig was left to Carol by her father. She can do what she likes with it. Personally all I care about is the two of them getting as far away from us as possible.'

  Romily gazed up at him, her eyes searching his face. Slowly she said, 'I was watching when you met Carol at the island. I saw you take—take her in your arms.'

  'No,' James corrected shortly. 'You saw her grab me. All I did was try and push her away. At the time I thought she'd just done it to annoy me; I didn't realise it was for your benefit.' He looked down at her, his eyes not so angry now. 'What did she say to you?'

  'That you'd asked her to go back to you. That she'd refused but she was going to phone you and tell you that she'd changed her mind. I heard her when she called you; it sounded exactly as she'd said. And then—and then I saw you holding her…'

  'It wasn't true. It wasn't like that,' he said urgently. His eyes darkened, grew intent. 'This is what is true.' And lowering his head, he took her mouth in a kiss of hungry passion.

  It was several wonderful minutes before he let her go and Romily opened her eyes to look dreamily into his. What she read there made her aware that her dress was torn from their fight earlier and revealing bits of her in the most tempting places. James had noticed it too and his hands began to take full advantage of the fact.

  'James,' she said rather breathlessly, 'do—do you remember that you said you only used this bed on special occasions?' He murmured acknowledgement, his mind elsewhere and she gave a gasp as he found her nipple, but went on, 'Have you had many women in it?'

  He lifted his head, his blue eyes dancing with laughter. 'Do I denote a touch of jealousy?'

  Romily hit him on the shoulder. 'Yes, you beast! I'm jealous as hell. Well, have you?'

  As he looked down at her the laughter died and his face grew serious. 'No, I've never had a woman in this bed. Including Carol, before you ask. The special occasions were my birthdays—and they were damned lonely times.' He paused, then said deliberately, 'The only woman I'll ever sleep with in this bed will be the girl I love, the girl I intend to marry. If she'll have me.' His blue eyes gazed lovingly into hers. 'Will you have me, Romily, my love? Will you share my bed, and my life, and my future?'

  'Oh!' She said the word on a long sigh of wonder and happiness as she put up her hand to gently touch his face. 'Do you really love me?'

  'With all my heart and soul. Now and always.'

  Misty tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away and said practically, 'How about your body?'

  James grinned delightedly. 'Definitely that, too.'

  And as he began to show her just how much, the old four-poster bed became the witness to the first of many, many special occasions.