Roumelia Lane - The Scented Hills

by Roumelia Lane

  As she gazed at the gleaming roulette wheels and card tables of the casino, gasped at the glitter of diamonds and sables and silky evening dress of its clientele, the magnificence of the chandeliers flashing their lights above, Neil Stanton said with biting humour, close to her ear, 'Your pet hobby. Money!'

  Tessa swallowed the remark and said nothing, allowing herself to be led around. Gaily coloured chips surged back and forth over the felt-topped tables. The croupiers were quick and agile in their movements. She saw flushed animated faces, and quietly anxious ones, and some that said it didn't matter either way.

  After a complete tour of the gaming rooms, Neil Stanton said with a touch of the taunting humour, 'I'll get you some chips and then you can get in among the feel of it.' Perhaps because Tessa cast a disinterested glance around, he asked, watching her, 'You want to play, don't you?'

  'Not particularly,' she smiled.

  He stood back to rock on his heels and survey her with a bent smile. 'Well, well! So the tender blue eyes are not popping with greed at it all.' A dark eyebrow tilted quizzically as he thrust a hand in his pocket and added lazily, 'If I didn't know you better I'd even say you were bored with the place.'

  'Well, we've seen all there is to see, haven't we?' Tessa shrugged. 'But if you want to stay, I don't mind leaving on my own.'

  As she turned he took her arm. 'I came for your benefit,' he said drily. 'If you've had enough we can move on.'

  She had her coat and they were out in the car in a matter of minutes. The June night air was warm and scented, and after the smoke and crowds in the casino, Tessa couldn't get enough of it. She inhaled deeply and blissfully and Neil

  Stanton, watching her, asked with the ghost of a smile, 'Where to now?'

  She turned to him, met the green eyes squarely and said with a twinkle, 'You must have been on your way somewhere before you met me. Why not just pretend that I'm not here?'

  'Okay,' he shrugged, 'if that's the way you want it.'

  Coasting back along the Croisette, Tessa wondered what she had let herself in for. She could sense the pulsing gaiety of Cannes' night life, but here along the seaward side of the promenade all was quiet but for the sound of the waves falling on the beach. After a while the car cut across the road between palm trees and flower-bedded islands, and pulled up in the forecourt of a luxurious-looking hotel. Once more Neil Stanton was assisting her out, and guiding her over towards brilliantly lit doorways. The unmistakable feel of affluence enveloped her as soon as she stepped inside.

  Her coat taken away, she followed the big figure through a quietly expensive lounge to a grilled-off area where the walls were richly panelled and the ceiling low and lit from the edges. Polished wood pillars circled the room, and from the tables beyond these there was the clink of champagne glasses and the chatter of wealthy patrons. For all its obvious elegance, the atmosphere of the room was relaxed and informal, and animated groups stood near the entrance and around the polished dance floor, talking above the regular beat of a small orchestra.

  Tessa was relieved to find that not many long evening dresses were in evidence, and though her own was nowhere near the expensive quality of the others she saw around her, it compared favourably in style at least.

  The man beside her stopped a waiter with a tray of drinks and took two. Sipping from the glass she had been given, Tessa gazed around and settled down to making the most of the experience.

  Neil Stanton was obviously well known, for there was always someone coming up to talk to him. He was drawn into one group after another as they drifted around the room and while he relaxed his frame and conversed lazily in English and French, Tessa stood by, small and shy, but not too shy to take in the polish and vivacity of his companions.

  You could tell that the women were tremendously aware of him. She supposed she was herself in a way. He looked wide of shoulder in the white dinner jacket. The dark hair was crisply combed and white teeth in the tanned features gleamed attractively when he smiled.

  Most of the females present hinted blatantly that a dance would go down well with them, and occasionally he would guide one of them on to the floor and drift around, talking pleasantly as they moved. Tessa told herself that there were other things to look at in the room besides white dinner- jacketed shoulders and muscular arms holding some vision close, but somehow she always found her glance straying back in that direction.

  Quite content in her little niche beside a pillar watching all that was going on, it came as a mild shock when some time later Neil Stanton came up and taking the empty glass from her hand led her on to the floor. A slight tremor shot through her as he drew her towards him. She prayed that her feet wouldn't make a fool of her, and then after only a few seconds out on the floor she wondered why she had worried at all. It suddenly seemed the most natural thing in the world to be moving with those arms about her.

  She completed three turns of the crowded dance floor without making a slip. Then things seemed to go awry. Her feet were doing fine, but her head was acting very peculiarly. As the room and the lights and the people began to spin round and round she felt herself suddenly caught close and Neil Stanton was giving her a searching look. Her vision cleared and as she shook her head he murmured sardonically, 'You'll have to learn to hold your liquor better than this if you've got a hankering for the high life. You'll be expected to put the drinks away without twitching an eyelid.'

  'But not on an empty stomach, I hope,' Tessa returned wryly, and shrugging the rest of the dizziness away. 'Perhaps I should have stayed home to dinner.'

  He studied her thoughtfully and then on a nod remarked, 'That's right. Barry took you off before dinner tonight, didn't he?' 'He didn't want to wait,' she said, simply. Not daring to gaze up at him too long from such close proximity, she couldn't tell whether the green eyes glinted with satisfaction or displeasure as he commented, 'So you haven't even been fed?'

  He lowered his arms and took her elbow and feeling the fingers grip it, she said quickly, 'I shan't bother about it now. I can manage till breakfast.'

  'And end up in a heap somewhere,' he said tersely. 'I'll see if I can book a table.'

  'Oh, please,' Tessa shot a terrified glance over to the crowded alcoves, 'I don't want to eat on my own.'

  'Okay,' he shrugged, 'we'll see what they've got at the buffet.'

  She was led over to the long tables at the far side of the room, and served with portions of this and that. The huge , silver platters were arranged in such works of art it was impossible to put names to most of the food, but every |i» mouthful was delicious and she soon found the lightheadedness receding. Neil Stanton had only a drink and a cigarette. He almost stood over her at the small bar as she ate and then later as she was drinking coffee of all things he asked lazily, 'What made you pick a job with Devereux's?'

  Tessa lifted her shoulders. 'It seemed as good a place as any to serve our apprenticeship,' she smiled reminiscently. 'There were two of us at first—the girl I grew up with in Buckinghamshire and me. We were both alone in the world, so we decided to try our luck in London. We had it all worked out,' she twinkled to herself. 'We were going to start a beautician's business and become madly famous.'

  'What happened?' he asked.

  'Debbie met a purser on the Australian shipping line, got married and went home with him.'

  'So you were on your own?'

  Tessa nodded. 'A bedsitter for two became a bedsitter for one. I stayed on at Devereux's…'

  'And hoped the same thing would happen to you,' he said with a slightly razor-edged smile.

  Tessa met his gaze. 'Every girl hopes for marriage,' she said lightly.

  'Sure. The gold-plated kind,' he nodded mockingly. As though the conversation had led his thoughts up to something else, he asked, pulling on his cigarette, 'By the way, how did Barry arrange for you to get back to the villa tonight?'

  'I was going to get the last bus,' she replied. There was no mistaking the complacent gleam in his eye now as he nodded to himself.
'So he left you to do that, did hep'

  For the first time in a long while his acrimonious remarks had Tessa ruffled. He was human enough not to leave her alone in a crowded town or to let her starve, but he wasn't going to let her forget for a minute what he thought of her!

  She lifted her chin and put on a tart smile to reply, 'You said yourself I'm not a five-year-old, and I've been travelling on buses all my life.'

  'But you prefer the luxury of fast cars?' he glinted down at her.

  'Who doesn't?' she sparkled back, calm again now, and annoyed with herself for having succumbed to his taunts.

  With a crooked smile he helped her down from her stool and drawled, 'Go and collect your coat and we'll get moving.'

  Out in the foyer she found a ladies' room and freshened up before slipping into her coat. It had been quite a night, and flushed cheeks and overbright eyes stared back at her from the mirror. She went out to find Neil Stanton waiting for her. Perhaps it was her imagination, but his eyes seemed to stay with her as they walked towards the door.

  Holding the car door open for her, he asked laconically, 'Top up or top down?'

  'Oh, just as it is.' Tessa sank back in her seat and rejoiced in the midnight air.

  Watching her as he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, he sloped the old quizzical smile to drawl, 'If I didn't know you better again, I'd say you were the outdoor type.'

  'But of course you know me better,' she met his gaze, twinkling.

  'Like the back of my hand,' he said drily, starting the car. Whether he cruised all the way back to the villa for her benefit or not, Tessa didn't know, but she revelled in the ride. Out of town, the gardens were spilling their perfume on the night and up against the craggy peaks of the hills the sky was spangled with stars. The all-pervading scent of jasmine greeted them as they entered the flower-massed Devereux country, and then all too soon the car was whispering along the drive towards the villa. It came to a hushed stop on the terrace, and climbing out just as quietly, Neil Stanton came round to her side and opened the door.

  They walked together along the hall and up the stairs and after a brief 'Goodnight, Tessa,' he went his way.

  Later, lying in bed gazing at the sky through her open doorways, Tessa mused on the evening. Who would have thought it would turn out the way it had? Certainly she hadn't expected Barry to drop her at the start of it. But that was Barry, she smiled to herself, as gaily erratic and fitful out of his car as in it. She had noticed the tangerine sports wasn't yet back in its place on the terrace, so he must still be with his friends. She hoped he had enjoyed the hours they had been apart. For she couldn't deny the fact that she had. Even though the man she had spent them with despised her.

  She felt strangely shy walking out to the breakfast table the next morning. Simply attired in flower-sprigged dress and sandals, she felt no match for the big figure in crisp shirt and finely creased slacks. He rose from his chair, as he always did when she came out on to the patio, and waited with that faintly taunting smile until she was seated. The only thing was, the sardonic touch didn't seem to be quite so pronounced this morning.

  'Coffee?' He poured for her and then went back to his French newspaper.

  Tessa ate breakfast in her usual manner, soaking up the sunshine and scenery around the patio. She never failed to derive deep pleasure from the picture that potted flowers, climbing vines and green shady trees made.

  Later when she rose to try to coax a small bird with a few crumbs, the man at the table lowered his paper and asked casually, 'How are you going to spend your morning?'

  'As I always do,' she laughed happily, partly because the bird accepted her offer and came to land fleetingly on her hand, and partly because she liked nothing better than working with the women in the fields. And then turning, she thought to ask politely, but with a twinkle, 'That is, if I'm allowed to do my stint for the perfume industry?'

  He rose and crooked her a lazy smile and offered, 'Want a lift?'

  'Oh no, thanks,' she swung her gaze over the bowl of blue sky. 'I'd much rather walk.'

  He lifted an arm for her to precede him inside and shrugged as she came level with him. 'Maybe -I could do with a little exercise.'

  A few minutes later he was accompanying her along the drive, and Tessa was trying to imagine what she looked like in the sun-hat that he had casually dropped on her head. One of Madame Devereux's, she gathered, it was in pale straw with a soft fringed brim. She felt like something out of an advertisement for Jamaica and must have looked it, for Neil Stanton gazed down at her to say lazily, 'Just right for a sun child.'

  Up at the roadside he dropped an arm lightly across her shoulders as a car whipped by on the way to Grasse, and then guided her over to the track. They walked down to the fields in silence. Tessa wouldn't have known what to talk about anyway. It was different out here when they weren't firing verbal bullets at one another, and without that there wasn't an awful lot you could say to a man who had no burning desire to have you stay around.

  She didn't see much of him during the morning because work was going on in the rose fields and she couldn't take her eyes off the gorgeous blooms for a second. At first she couldn't bring herself to destroy such perfection. She wanted to gather them all to her possessively and fill every room in the villa with them, but alas! It took millions of rose petals to make a few ounces of essence, and their fate had been decided long before she had come on the scene. For the sake of the women of the world and the perfume they depended on, she set to work to fill her basket, as lovingly if not as quickly as the other pickers.

  It wasn't until nearly lunch time that she saw that Neil Stanton had been following progress close by. He looked at his watch and then handed the work sheets to his manager and moved off. Tessa didn't know why, but it gave her heart a peculiar lift to see the tall figure striding towards her. As he came up to join her for the walk back to the villa, the green eyes crinkling against the sun, a half smile playing about the tight lips, she plucked a rose on impulse and threaded it laughingly into her hat. Later when a bee swooped near the rose as they walked Neil brushed it aside and said lazily, 'By the way, I've noticed you're sleeping with your doors open at night.'

  'I like the fresh air, remember!' She stepped along smiling.

  He matched his strides to hers to point out, 'The flowers bring all kinds of insects to the valley. It's advisable to pull your shutters before you turn in.'

  'Oh, but the nights are so gorgeous!' She swung to him, realising he was serious. 'I couldn't shut them out.'

  'Okay!' He lifted his shoulders, looking down at her. 'Then we'll get you a mosquito net.'

  Barry was stretched out in a sun-chair when they arrived on the terrace from the drive. He pushed up indolently and strolled over to meet them with a grin and a 'Hi, people.'

  Neil dropped a brotherly arm across his shoulders as they walked and asked with a smile, 'What's the programme for today, young Devereux?'

  'Oh, I think we'll kick around the garden this afternoon,' Barry shrugged. 'It's too hot for the beach.'

  Neil nodded thoughtfully and guided Tessa inside. For reasons of his own he didn't say anything about their evening together last night.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Tessa wasn't sorry that there was to be no drive to Juan-les- Pins today. Much as she loved the roads through the countryside on the way, and the setting of the town itself, she wasn't all that keen on sitting for hours in the glare of the beach. The cool green of the villa gardens was far more acceptable in her eyes.

  Madame Devereux's small features glowed happily when she learned that her grandson had elected to stay home for the afternoon. She watched over him affectionately at the lunch table and chatted on in that endearing accent of hers about what the three of them would do for the next few hours.

  As it turned out, it was only two of them. While Madame Devereux took Tessa along shady paths, pointing out mimosa trees, prickly pear and white camellia roses, and telling her of her own young days w
hen her mother had been a needle-woman in Grasse. Barry lay stretched out on the lawn below the terrace, gazing smilingly content at the blue sky and thinking his own thoughts.

  Nicolette marched staunchly down the terrace steps with the silver tea-tray, mid-afternoon, and while Madame Devereux drank from her china cup, Tessa and Barry were served with tall glasses of iced fruit juice.

  The sun blazed down, but it was pleasant in the shade. The older woman dozed on her sun-bed, and Tessa lay on the grass and gazed up at the green lacework of leaves. The peace was all-embracing. Only a distant car could be heard travelling along the road beyond the drive. She drank deeply of the fragrance of summer and dreamed idly as the warm breeze whispered over her limbs. When the time came to go up and change for dinner, she felt aglow from her day out of doors and knew a restless desire to make the most of herself for dinner. She bathed leisurely and slipped into nylon underwear. All her clothes were kept beautifully fresh and ironed by some mysterious hand in the household, whom Nicolette whipped them off to. Which was as well for Tessa, she told herself diffidently. Otherwise she would have run out of something to wear ages ago.

  As it was, a pale peach dress that she had worn quite a few times for Barry's friends was hanging crisp again in the wardrobe. It was simple to the point of being merely a back and a front, but it was cut well, she flattered her home dressmaking talents, and the colour seemed to heighten her tan. A matching lipstick was all she needed now for her out-of- doors complexion, but perhaps a little powder to take away the shine. After a final brush over her hair she went down to dinner.

  Seeing Barry in expensive suit and shirt, she was glad she had made every effort with her toilet tonight, even though she had looked no further than dinner. He obviously had something very special lined up for this evening.

  Madame Devereux reigned serene in midnight blue at the head of the table. Neil looked tanned and relaxed in lightweight suit, silk shirt and tie. He talked about the new distilling plant due to be installed shortly in one of the factories, and a modern method in petroleum solvents for the treatment of delicate flowers, while Barry rushed through the courses, smiling and nodding and listening with only half an ear.