Roumelia Lane - The Scented Hills

by Roumelia Lane

  'Don't worry.' Tessa pulled her mouth into a tight smile, the memory of a probing green glance still with her. 'He won't get anything out of me.'

  The house was all in darkness as the car drew up on the terrace. Barry pushed the front door open and tiptoed along the hall, beckoning Tessa after him. A pool of light from a single lamp lit the curving staircase. As they crept up it their shadows moved like thin ghostly shapes around the walls. Along the corridor upstairs Tessa only vaguely remembered where her room was. She was turned briskly in the right direction with the words whispered close to her ear,' 'Night, Tess. See you tomorrow.' Barry squeezed her arm and disappeared into the shadows.

  In her room Tessa didn't dare to put on a light. She washed and slipped into cool pyjamas by the glow of the stars, and then was attracted by their brilliance. It was a perfect night. The trees in the gardens below hung motionless in the warmth. She could smell the green of their leaves and on a deeper breath the fragrance of May blossom.' Insects clicked busily in the undergrowth and in the distance she thought she heard the faint splash of a fountain. She inhaled blissfully again, and leaving the balcony, doors wide crept thankfully into bed.

  It was only in the last moments before sleep that she found herself pondering on Barry's brief goodnight. He didn't display his affection for her very much, did he? He hadn't even given her a kiss on the cheek tonight. Still, she turned drowsily. It was their first night at the villa and it was very late.

  She awoke to the sound of someone moving about on the balcony. As she pushed up from her pillow Nicolette came into the room, throwing up her hands in despair and going on in her own fierce tongue. From what Tessa could make out the woman was horrified at finding that the two double doors of the balcony had been left wide to the night.

  'Mon Dieul' she lamented, and then turning to the bed she demonstrated firmly, with an upward sweep of her arms, 'Evening. Shotters close, like sol'

  Tessa smiled, ruffling her hair. 'It was such a lovely night,' she said, sitting up and hugging her knees. 'I didn't want to shut it out.'

  'Hmmph I Loffly night, bring loffly… ZZZZ eensects.'

  Nicolette aimed a finger at her with a sudden twinkle. She brought a silver tray over with a glass of orange juice on it and enquired pleasantly, 'Does Mademoiselle desire breakfast in bed?'

  'Oh no, thank you,' Tessa stretched her arms happily, 'I'd much rather get up.'

  'Just as Mademoiselle wishes.' Taciturn and correct again, Nicolette nodded and went out. The orange juice tasted as though it had just left the fruit. Tessa sipped it pleasurably and gazed about her. This was the first moment she had really had time to take in her room.

  The walls were a cool pink wash, the floor, beneath a couple of pale mats, a kind of wood tile. In one corner an arched alcove led off into the pink-tiled bathroom that she had hurriedly washed in yesterday and along the same wall, past a vase of vivid flowers on a low table, was a huge built- in wardrobe. The furniture was ornately carved and in the same rich dark wood that she had seen around the rest of the house, and one single gold-framed picture hung in a spot not far from the alcove.

  There were no windows as she knew them in England, just the two double half-glass doors opening on to the balconies, their faded shutters folded back against the wall. The doors were facing the bed, and the view out there now lifted her like music. Red, pink and cerise geraniums, trailing from pots arranged along the flat top of the balustrade, blazed their colours against an azure blue sky. Above, a delicate spray of green from a slender-branched tree formed a lacy bower over the doorways and beyond, in the garden, a single palm fanned out its feathery fronds from a pencil-slim trunk.

  Swallowing the rest of the orange juice in one gulp, she leapt out of bed. It was far too fantastic a day to spend it lounging among the pillows. Humming a tune, she bathed and dressed, choosing a simple lilac cotton with a full skirt and small sleeves, and a pair of open-work sandals. A light touch of make-up, a vigorous brush at the long red hair, and she was ready to search out Barry for breakfast.

  She didn't see him on the landing, and all was quiet downstairs in the hall. Only the sound of the birds twittering and winging their way about the garden drifted in from the open doorway.

  She went into the room where they had dined last night and found it empty. The big oval table was bare but for a lace cover and a bowl of roses. She was just about to turn away again when she saw open french windows down the end of the room, and out on a small patio a white-clothed table was laid with silver and china and its own bowl of flowers.

  Following the aroma of fresh coffee, Tessa made her way down the room. It wasn't until she was almost there that she saw Neil Stanton sitting off the side, and he was on his own. He looked up, so she had to keep going. And anyway, she tilted her chin, why should she be afraid of him ? Gone now was the mellow mood of last night at dinner when his smile for Barry had been almost human. This was broad daylight and she would need to be on her guard.

  Having only seen him in formal wear, casually attired now in pale slacks and lightweight wool shirt, he looked less formidable. Only a metallic glint in the green eyes reminded her that once a despotic guardian, always a despotic guardian.

  She stepped out airily as though she couldn't care less, then at the very last moment lost her nerve and wished fervently that he hadn't been completely alone.

  He must have read her thoughts, for he rose lazily to say with a sardonic gleam, 'Madame Devereux never rises until lunch and young Barry usually finds it an effort to show himself much before. It's a bad habit I've been meaning to break him of, but…' he let his gaze rest on her pointedly, 'maybe he's just as well off in his room these days.'

  Sending him a cool glance, Tessa replied with a dig at his superiority, 'Perhaps I d have been better having breakfast in bed?'

  'That's right.' He draped down with a taut smile. 'Make the most of everything while it lasts.'

  Tessa decided to ignore him. It wasn't difficult with the view. They were at the side of the house and the small area of breakfast patio had trellised screens and a pebbled floor. Copper-leaved vines climbed up the lattice work above pots of vivid geraniums, and below beyond the gardens, the sundrenched valley fell away in a blaze of flowers. On top of what she had already seen this morning Tessa felt overwhelmed at so much beauty. It was all too much, too quickly, she decided, gazing spellbound. She moved around breathing in the sweet-scented air and drawing in her delight at each new pleasure.

  Neil Stanton pushed his legs out in front of him, and folding his arms drawled, heavily sarcastic, 'That should just about do it for anybody who's looking. You look suitably impressed.'

  Tessa gave him an indifferent look. 'You can be as cynical as you like,' she said smoothly. 'I think it's all too lovely for words.'

  'So you don't have to waste them on me,' he said flatly.

  'I don't intend to,' she tossed back. 'I know a cold fish when I see one.'

  The flicker of a tight smile played about the well-defined lips. He shrugged over the view as though to justify himself. 'Flowers are my business.'

  She gave him a deeper shrug to purr, 'Maybe you should try digging for coal.'

  He turned back to the table, hooded lids not quite hiding the sparks of humour in his eyes as he pointed out, 'Your coffee's getting cold.'

  Tessa took a seat and busily set about sawing through a crisp roll, determined not to show any nerves in front of the man, though she felt plenty.

  After a while he enquired in familiar taunting vein, 'How was Cannes?'

  'Absolutely terrific!' she enthused, biting carelessly into roll and butter and peach jam.

  'I thought you'd like it.' The tight mouth was creeping back to its disdainful slant. 'It's got just about everything, hasn't it?'

  'Well, give me time!' she tilted him a flippant look. 'I've only seen it for one night.'

  'And that's nowhere near long enough for you, is it?' He rose to his feet as though he needed a change of scenery.

&n
bsp; As he passed her chair Tessa asked with a sweet smile, 'Going so soon?'

  He stopped to bow her a look of lazy contempt. 'No matter what other people came here to do,' he aimed neatly, 'I came out to work.'

  'Well, don't let me stop you,' she said coyly.

  'Don't you worry,' he lowered a taut smile, 'I won't.' He turned inside and strode down the room and out into the hall. When the sound of his footsteps had died away completely Tessa dropped her serene pose and fell back limp with battle.

  What a way to start the day—crossing swords with him! No doubt he thought if he made himself unpleasant enough this first morning, she would resort to breakfasting in her room in future. Well, he was so wrong. She liked it fine out here, and she had every intention of enjoying the first meal of the day here, just as she was doing now.

  Her trembling hands, she told herself, were merely the result of struggling with the heavy coffee pot.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Some time later, steady again and wandering about the garden, she pondered on what she could do with herself for the next two or three hours. The house was silent apart from dark-garbed servants whispering about, and there was no sign of Barry. If it was true what his guardian had said, she wouldn't be seeing him until lunch. She had been up to her room and tidied her things away, but she couldn't just sit up there on a day like this and the gardens, lovely as they were with their cascading blossoms and luxuriant greenery, were not enough to satisfy this faint restlessness in her.

  She decided after some thought to explore the road beyond the drive. It would be pleasant to wander just where she liked for once. Not that she had anything against Barry's idea of seeing the countryside, but there was something about being leisurely and unhurried and free to stop at anything that caught one's fancy.

  Swinging along the drive, she recalled that there was a track turning off the road just a little way up on the other side. She had seen it yesterday on that ominous drive with Neil Stanton, and remembered thinking it looked inviting, with its crooked pines and cactus-like clumps. That would do for a start. If it turned out to be a dead end somewhere, she could always come back.

  Far from that, as she found out, the track curved on, and round, and down the hillside taking her past gnarled trees and short coarse grass. There were more tropical-looking shrubs which she skirted, still following the path that grew narrower as it descended. And then she came upon it. The sight she had seen twice from a distance and now found under her very nose! Fields and fields and fields of flowers! All this being Devereux land, and moving in the same direction that she had cast her gaze earlier, from the patio, she might have expected to come upon a scene like this, but the effect was no less shattering for all that. It was, as the younger juniors at the salon would say, 'Wowee!'

  She skipped among clouds of pastel-tinted blooms, feeling like a sprite dancing where paradise had gone mad. A heavenly perfume hung on the breeze, and everywhere as far , as the eye could see was rippling colour.

  Drugged by the sheer magic of it all, she whirled dreamily on and came eventually to the neat rows of fruit trees. Here women were busily picking the white orange blossom and dropping it mechanically into tall baskets. Tessa looked on, envious of their task. Imagine doing this for a living! Basking in clouds of waxen blossom, wallowing in the scent and actually getting paid for it!

  Unable to resist the temptation, she. skipped up and I. plucked a bloom from a lower branch, and then another, and another. Someone's basket was nearby, and having absolute handfuls by now, she tossed them in and reached for more. It was impossible to stop herself cupping one beautiful bloom after another in her hands, and soon she found herself working in earnest.

  The sun was warm on her arms and legs, the sky a brilliant blue between the branches of the tree. She couldn't remember a time when she had been happier.

  Someone else in a similar frame of mind was the owner of the basket. Plump and perspiring beneath a wide-brimmed hat, the face, dour at first, brightened into polite surprise and then fell apart in delighted laughter at finding her work being done for her. Tessa laughed too, all shyness and awkwardness that she might have felt in ordinary circumstances dispelled by the sheer rapture of her surroundings. Eager to please, she tugged at another fat blossom, the very fullest she could find, and waiting to see the woman's face she spun round and almost collided with a wide chest planted between her and the basket.

  Oh dear! Now she was going to be told she was trespassing.

  Her laughter tailing off but not leaving her eyes, she jerked up to the green ones watching her with interest, 'I… er…

  was out walking and I sort of got carried away with the… er… in ..She waved her arm weakly around the view, her mouth twitching.

  Neil Stanton took his gaze back to the board with a list clipped to it that he was holding and running his pencil down the figures said crisply, 'I've no objection to you amusing yourself, provided you don't interfere with the work that has to be done.'

  'Well, thank you.' Tessa curtsied impishly. She turned to pick another blossom, but her fingers, curse them, were trembling so much she couldn't get a grip. She heard Neil Stanton talking in French to the T-shirted man who was accompanying him, and then when she thought they had gone, and her fingers had calmed down again, the big frame come up beside her and she heard deep tones point out, 'If you want to avoid sore fingers you'd better learn how to do the job properly.'

  He brought his hands alongside hers and lifted a blossom neatly. Watching, Tessa said shakily, ' Thank you. I'll remember that.'

  As he turned away her desire to go on picking flowers suddenly vanished. She felt more like letting the world know that, for the moment at least, she had no enemies. Hurrying to fall into step beside him, she asked with interest, 'What are you doing?'

  The big shoulders lifted. 'Working out ways and means of speeding up the process between picking and distilling.'

  Tessa scattered the petals beneath her feet and sighed lightly. 'All the world seems to be the same these days. Everybody wants to speed things up. I think things are going fast enough.'

  'You don't have a business to run,' he replied with a taut smile.

  'Thank heavens,' she returned lightly, following him to a wide sweep of track where baskets of blossom were being loaded and driven off to a cluster of buildings in the distance.

  Neil Stanton watched the men loading for a while, checking the list in his hands, and then flicking her a look he asked dryly, 'What are you doing down here anyway? I thought you would have been sitting it out under his bedroom window.'

  'Whose? Barry's, you mean?' Tessa had to shake herself. She hadn't given him a thought for the past two hours. To gather her confused ones now she dropped down on the handle shaft of an iron frame used for transporting the baskets, and swinging her sandalled feet asked after a while, 'Why do you have to be his guardian? He's got his grandmother and he's quite grown up in a lot of ways.'

  'It was his grandfather's idea, not mine,' came the offhand reply.

  'But I bet you enjoy it,' she looked at him.

  'Oh, sure I' She saw the inflection of a lazy smile. 'Like I do playing ball with a live hornets' nest.'

  'He's not as difficult to handle as all that,' Tessa chaffed.

  'And you should know,' he gave her the familiar sarcastic gleam. 'You've known him for all of… what is it? Just over a week now?'

  'I've known you for even less,' she sparkled, curiously unruffled, 'but already I'm sure I wouldn't want you for my guardian.'

  He dropped the board down by his side, looked at his watch and commented drily, 'Circumstances being what they are, that's natural enough.'

  She watched him join up with the T-shirted man again. They talked for a while and then strode off towards the buildings. Looking at her own watch, she was amazed to see how the time had flown and turned quickly back in the direction she had come. It might take her as much as half an hour to walk through the flower fields and up the track climbing the hill, so sh
e had better start off now if she was to freshen up before lunch.

  The amber-coloured car was back on the terrace as she came on to it from the drive. Neil Stanton must have finished just after she had left. She didn't know why she didn't mind the fact that he would be lunching at the villa.

  Perhaps because there hadn't been quite so many sparks flying on their last meeting. Smiling to herself, she hurried up to her room to wash off the morning's dust.

  The sun was blazing down on the patio behind the french windows when she stepped into the dining room. In the cool interior Madame Devereux, looking ethereal in soft grey, greeted her smilingly from where she sat at the oval table. Impulsively Tessa went to drop a kiss on her cheek.

  Barry was standing with his guardian out on the patio. Seeing the lightweight figure move towards her now, Tessa didn't know how she could have forgotten him for one second, let alone the best part of the morning. Pure white slacks were moulded to the narrow-hipped frame, and an orange shirt knotted at the waist, beach style, added fire to his golden waves; the blue eyes, she swore, were bluer than the brilliant sky behind him. His morning indoors seemed to have agreed with him, for the handsome features were alight with good humour and liveliness.

  She was expecting him to come and meet her, but after only a couple of steps he seemed to have second thoughts and waited until she arrived at the french windows. Under the scrutiny of a green gaze she felt him draw her close and brush his lips lingeringly along her cheek, then he was saying with a grin, 'How's my girl?'

  Tessa, feeling her cheeks go pink for some reason, turned away from the big figure and after a breath queried lightly, 'So you do get up some time!'

  His arm about her waist he led her just ahead of Neil Stanton to the table and carefully held her chair. When they were all seated and Nicolette had the meal under way he mentioned with suppressed eagerness, 'I'm taking Tess up to Juan-les-Pins this afternoon. That's okay, isn't it, Neil?'