Dark Castle

by Anne Mather

  'Jonas—' she choked, turning her head from side to side, and his eyes darkened contemptuously.

  'I could kill you, do you know that?' he muttered savagely. 'What do you think I am - an animal? Have you been so completely brainwashed that you imagine would rape my own wife? Oh, yes, I see you have. Your mother and Angela have done their work well, haven they? You really believe the worst of me, don't you, Julie? Do you hate me? Do you despise me? Just what did they tell you?'

  'Jonas, please ...' The words were despairing.

  He stared down at her angrily, his eyes moving over her without compassion. But then his fingers extracted themselves from the narrow cord and she could breathe freely again. He turned away from her, his shoulder hunched, his knees drawn up, his arms wrapped round them.

  Julie scrambled to her feet while she could. Lying there, looking at his evident dejection, she had felt an almost overwhelming temptation to touch him, and such feelings must be controlled at all costs. She went across to the mirror and surreptitiously examined her neck. The mark of the cord could be clearly seen and she drew the neckline of the gown higher to hide it.

  Jonas got to his feet and walked across to where he hah slung his velvet jacket on an armchair by the fire. He picked it up and put it on, smoothing a hand over the thick vitality of his hair. Then he looked at Julie.

  'We will dine downstairs,' he stated grimly. 'Is that understood?'

  Julie swung round. 'My neck ... Mrs. Macpherson is bound to notice ...'

  Jonas shook his head. 'I doubt it. But if she does, you can tell her that you must have tied the cord too tightly.'

  Julie pressed her lips together. 'And if I refuse?'

  Jonas walked broodingly towards the door. 'I don't somehow think you dare,' he replied coldly, and left her.

  After he had gone, tears would not come. She was just as fraught with tension as before, but now it was different. Now she couldn't give in to self-pitying tears. Her eyes felt dry, and the lump in her throat was a painfully physical thing.

  When she finally summoned up the courage to go downstairs it was to find Mrs. Macpherson already serving dinner from the trolley on to the small table in the living-room.

  'Och, so there you are, Mrs. Hunter,' she chided, with a rather knowing look. 'It was getting late, so I thought I'd save you the trouble of doing this.' She smiled. 'And you see, here he is, back safe and sound. All that worry was for nothing, wasn't it?'

  'Worry, Mrs. Macpherson?'

  Julie was looking at her watch, staggered to find it was already after nine o'clock, but she heard the question in Jonas's tones as he challenged the housekeeper's statement. He was standing before the fire, feet apart, and Julie's eyes were unwillingly drawn to the powerful muscles that rippled beneath the swaying elegance of his kilt.

  'Why, of course, sir.' Mrs. Macpherson straightened from setting out some delectable-looking savoury pancakes. 'I think Mrs. Hunter was feeling rather neglected.'

  Julie coloured and Jonas gave the housekeeper a faint smile. 'You could be right, Mrs. Macpherson. Oh, and by the way, will you tell Rob that the starter motor's sticking again. I had the hell of a job to get it to work at all.'

  'Oh, yes, sir.'

  Mrs Macpherson nodded, and Julie turned deliberately to a magazine lying on the chair where she had left it earlier. She had no doubt that Jonas's statement had been for her benefit, and she wondered whether Mrs. Macpherson was a party to the deception or whether the outboard motor had really failed.

  'Will that be all, Mr. Hunter?'

  Mrs. Macpherson was leaving and Jonas saw her to the door. When it was closed behind her, he came back to the table and said: 'Will you come and sit down? Or are you going to pretend to read that magazine all evening?'

  Julie put the magazine away and came to her chair, sitting down abruptly and looking down at the savoury pancakes on her plate. Jonas seated himself opposite her and picked up his knife and fork. He tackled the pancakes with determination and with a sigh she picked up her cutlery and tried to do the same.

  But tonight her appetite really was lacking, and not even the dry wine he poured for her could stimulate her palate. There was a roast of beef to follow, with Yorkshire pudding and vegetables, and Mrs. Macpherson had made the puddings in cake tins so that they were small and crisp. Julie made a concerted effort to behave normally, but only the lemon souffle which completed the meal would slide down unaided. She noticed that Jonas did not eat as enthusiastically as he had done the night before and she felt suddenly guilty.

  After all, everything that had happened since she came here had been put out of context by her overcharged imagination. Even today, when she had been hating him for staying away, the motor on his boat had apparently failed. Something entirely beyond his control.

  She bit her lip. Where had she gone wrong? Just be- cause he had met her at the station and told her she would have to stay at his house she had allowed the whole affair to escalate into a ridiculous farce that seemed to have no roots except in her own brain. This morning she had overslept, and he could have been back from Achnacraig before she was even aware that he had gone. Only the clothes in the wardrobe and the lingerie in the tallboy drawer struck a discordant note. Who did they belong to?

  She looked up, pushing her dessert plate aside. Jonas had already left the table and was bending to light a cheroot with a taper from the fire. Her eyes encountered his as he turned and she faltered at the coldness in their depths.

  'Jonas,' she began uncomfortably, 'Jonas, I want to apologize ...'

  'Do you?' He inhaled deeply. 'I shouldn't bother. Apologies are never fully meant or fully accepted.'

  'Mine are!' She sighed. 'Did the outboard motor really fail?'

  He walked across to pour himself some brandy. 'Will you have a liqueur?' he asked politely.

  'No.' She was impatient. 'Jonas, I asked you a question.'

  He brought the brandy goblet back to the couch and seated himself, cradling the spirit between his fingers. 'I told you what happened,' he said expressionlessly.

  'I know what you said ..Julie rose now and walked restlessly across the hearth. 'Jonas, whose are those clothes upstairs?'

  He looked down into his glass. 'Whose do you think they are?'

  'I've no idea. That's why I'm asking you.'

  'All right. Whose do you suppose they are?'

  'Well, they're some woman's, obviously.' She looked down at the toes of her shoes. 'I - I can't be expected to know who you've had staying here with - with you, can I?'

  'It never even occurs to you to wonder whether there might not be some purely innocent reason for their being there, does it?' he demanded bitterly, pinning her with his eyes.

  Julie shifted uneasily. 'What - what innocent reason could there be?' she challenged.

  'They could be - my sister's.'

  'You don't have a sister.'

  'All right. A cousin's, then.'

  'What cousin?'

  'Does it matter? I'm merely quoting you hypothetical , answers to your question.' 'So they don't belong to your cousin?'

  'I never said they did.'

  Julie bent her head. 'The fact remains, they're there, and you won't tell me whose they are.' She looked up. 'How can you expect me to trust you when you behave so -so deceitfully?'

  Jonas swallowed his brandy at a gulp. 'Trust is a word you don't know the meaning of,' he stated bleakly. 'So far as you are concerned, trust has to be seen to be believed!'

  'Stop exaggerating—'

  'Oh, I'm not. I've known of wives trusting their husbands when it's been blatantly obvious that the husband is guilty of whatever he's been accused.'

  Julie had to defend herself. 'Isn't that rather naive—'

  'Perhaps. But if you love someone, you're usually prepared to give them at least the benefit of the doubt.' He

  tossed his glass carelessly. 'Oh, but I was forgetting something - there was no doubt in your mind, was there? You had Angela's word, and that was much more trustwor
thy than mine, wasn't it?'

  'Jonas, Angela was terribly upset—'

  'God. in heaven!' He sprang to his feet. 'Do you think I was not?'

  'It's different for a man—'

  'What the hell do you mean, different for a man? When nothing happens, what difference is there?'

  'Oh, Jonas, please, don't start that all over again—'

  'Why not? Am I not entitled to a hearing? Is that it?

  'No, of course not.' Julie spread her hands. 'But I know the facts, Jonas. There's no refuting them. Besides, I've known Angela since I was a very small girl. We're very fond of each other. I -1 know her.'

  'You knew me, too.'

  She turned away. 'I thought I did.'

  'You did! Julie, have you forgotten what we meant to each other?'

  'Oh, Jonas, we were married. But we'd only known one another for two and a half years!'

  'Might I point out that we're still married?' Jonas's face was taut and angry. 'We've now known one another for five years. What difference does time make, you tell me.'

  'That's different. We've been apart—'

  'Unfortunately, that's so.' He nodded. 'Through no fault of mine.'

  'How can you say that?' She stared at him incredulously. Then she shook her head. 'Please, Jonas, I don't want to fight with you again. I didn't come here to start a debate about something that was all over long ago. In — in fact, when I get back to London, I intend to see a

  solicitor.'

  Jonas's fingers were gripping his glass so tightly that it suddenly cracked and splintered, shattering in his hand. The stem fell to the floor and Julie watched in horror as blood began to pour on to the carpet.

  'Oh, Jonas!' She rushed forward, grasping his wrist and turning his hand palm upward. 'Jonas, look what you've done!'

  'Leave it!'

  He was drawing away from her as the door opened and Mrs. Macpherson came in with their coffee. She saw the blood dripping from Jonas's fingers and gasped in dismay. Thrusting down the tray on the nearest resting place, she came across to them, brushing Julie aside and gripping his wrist tightly, momentarily slowing the flow of blood to his hand.

  'Do you have a large handkerchief?' she asked efficiently, and Jonas reluctantly pulled one from his pocket.

  Julie watched as the housekeeper applied a tourniquet, wondering why she hadn't done something useful like that instead of just exclaiming over his injuries. His hand was a mess of blood and glass splinters and she badly wanted to do something to help him.

  But Jonas didn't even look at her, and Mrs. Macpherson finished tying the handkerchief in place and said: 'Come away with me, Mr. Hunter. Rob will attend to this.'

  Jonas protested that he could manage, but it was a very desultory protest, and they both left the room leaving Julie alone. She walked restlessly across the floor wondering whether the Macphersons would think it strange that she should not have gone with Jonas. But how could she force her presence upon them when Jonas had so clearly

  wanted no help from her?

  It seemed hours before she heard anyone returning and she spent part of the time cleaning the blood from the carpet. She couldn't make a very good job of it without any cleaning materials, but at least the stain would not show so obviously. She threw the handkerchief of her own she used on to the fire afterwards, and watched as the flames licked round the scarlet stains. Her lips trembled. It was like destroying part of him.

  She could have gone to bed, but she didn't. She had to know whether his hand was going to be all right. It was his right hand, his writing hand, and she wished she didn't feel so responsible.

  At last she heard someone coming along the corridor. She had left the door ajar so that she could hear the slightest sound, and now she went towards it, halting uncertainly when Jonas came into the room. His hand had been extensively bandaged, from his fingers to his wrist, and his pallor bore witness to the amount of blood he had lost. He ignored her and walked straight to the drinks cabinet, pouring himself a stiff Scotch with his left hand, and swallowing it before turning. Then he poured another and carried it with him to stand before the fire.

  'Why are you still here?' he asked harshly, looking at Julie. 'I expected you would have gone to bed by now.'

  Julie twisted her hands together. 'I - I couldn't go, not - not knowing whether your hand was going to be all right—'

  'My hand is fine, thank you. Rob Macpherson is an excellent first aid man. I'll survive - much to your regret, I'm sure.'

  'Oh, Jonas!' Her lips moved protestingly. 'Jonas, you know that's not so.'

  'Do I? What difference would it make to you? We

  haven't seen one another for over two years. I could have been dead for all you cared.'

  Julie felt sick. 'Jonas, that's ridiculous, and you know it. I -I knew you weren't - dead. You sent reports.. 'Oh, yes. And you watched them, I suppose.' 'Some of them.' Julie nodded. How could she tell him that in the beginning she had been unable to look at him without feeling ill? 'Anyway, I'm glad that you're going to be all right. I think you ought to see a doctor, though. Splinters of glass can be dangerous.' Jonas considered her anxious face for a few moments, and then he said: 'And how am I to get to the doctor's? My doctor is in Newton Carn, fifteen miles away.'

  Julie frowned. 'Mr. Macpherson will take you.' ' .'Rob? Have you seen him? No, I thought not. Rob has only one leg, Julie. He doesn't drive.'

  'Mrs. Macpherson, then.'

  I 'What possible reason would Mrs. Macpherson have for learning to drive? They don't own a car.' Julie sighed. 'I'll take you.'

  Jonas's eyes narrowed. 'Will you? I thought you were leaving in the morning.'

  Julie made a helpless gesture. Yes. Well, I can't can I?'

  'Why not? It wasn't your fault.'

  She stared frustratedly at him. 'Do you want me to go?'

  Jonas held her gaze. 'No. I want you to stay.' Julie's heart thundered against her ribs. She was letting him disconcert her again. She must not do that. If she was to stay another couple of days and take him to Newton Carn she must be sure she could remain in control of herself. She must remember he was an expert when it came to getting what he wanted...

  She held up her head. 'All right, I'll take you to Newton Carn. And if you're still prepared for me to interview you, I'd like to do that tomorrow afternoon. I'll leave on Friday.'

  Jonas raised his glass to his lips in a somewhat mocking salute. 'You're very kind.

  Julie coloured. 'I'm not kind at all. I - I'm just sorry that it happened.'

  'Thank you.'

  'Don't thank me!' She turned abruptly aside. 'I think I'll go to bed now.'

  'We never seem to drink Mrs. Macpherson's excellent coffee, do we?'

  'Oh!' Julie paused. 'Do you want some? Shall I pour it for you?'

  'Yes. Yes, why not?' His lips curved sardonically. 'Black with sugar. Plenty of sugar. Isn't that supposed to be good for shock?'

  'You must be over the shock by now,' she exclaimed, busying herself setting out the cups.

  'That rather depends which shock you're referring to,' he commented dryly.

  She looked up curiously. 'What do you mean?'

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. 'You agreeing to stay?'

  She pressed her lips together. 'Oh, that's stilly.'

  'Why is it? Mummy and Angela won't approve!'

  Julie straightened impatiently. 'Jonas, do you want me to go?'

  'I've told you what I want.'

  She looked down again, aware of the unsteadying influence of his nearness. He was doing this deliberately, playing on her emotions, and she must not let him get away with it. She poured the coffee, added two heaped

  spoons of brown sugar, and held out the cup. 'There you are, then. Can I go now?' He took the cup. 'Won't you join me?' 'No, thank you.'

  He inclined his head. 'Sleep well.' She walked to the door and then paused, a thought occurring to her. 'Jonas - where are my clothes? I - I'd like to wear them.'

  'While you're
here?' He shook his head. 'I'll see that they're returned to you before you leave.' I 'That's not good enough!'

  'I'm afraid it will have to be.' The steel was back in his eyes again.

  Julie hesitated only a moment longer and then realizing that in any battle of wills he was likely to get the better of her she went out, closing the door with an angry click. It was only as she was mounting the spiral staircase that she realized it must have been he who had entered her bedroom with the tray of tea that morning and ; taken away her clothes while she was sleeping. The knowledge was disturbing.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE following morning Julie was up just after eight and was in the bathroom when she heard someone moving about in the bedroom. Wrapping a bath towel closely about her, she went to the door and peeped nervously into the room. Mrs. Macpherson was just straightening after placing a tray of morning tea on the bedside table, and Julie sighed with relief before going into the room.

  'Good morning, Mrs. Macpherson, thank you.'

  'Oh, good morning, Mrs. Hunter.' The housekeeper turned to look at her. 'Is Mr. Hunter up and about already?'

  'Up and - about—' Julie hoped she hadn't sounded as astounded as she felt, but realization of what the housekeeper meant was slow in coming to her.

  'I 'm here, Mrs. Macpherson.' Jonas's voice from the open doorway startled her even more. He entered the room stretching lazily, the bandage on his hand very white against the dark blue wool of his dressing gown. 'I was - er - just using the bathroom next door.'

  Julie turned away in embarrassment, wishing she had stopped to put on some clothes before coming so impulsively into the bedroom to speak to Mrs. Macpherson. But she had not dreamed that Jonas might be expected to appear. She couldn't decide whether she was glad or sorry that he had. Without his intervention, she might have found it very difficult to find some reasonable explanation for his absence to give to Mrs. Macpherson, but perhaps it would have been better for the housekeeper to have become suspicious that everything between them was not as it should be. As it was, in the fine wool dressing gown, his bare legs and feet revealing that it was all he wore, his dark hair tousled and the shadow of stubble on his jawline, Jonas seemed very much at home in this room, and she found she resented it.