Summer of the Weeping Rain

by Yvonne Whittal

  'Certainly not!' she cried indignantly.

  'I thought so,' Adam smiled faintly as he observed her heightened colour. 'There's a certain innocence about you, Lisa, that made me suspect that Rory what's-his-name was never permitted the intimacies you allowed me this afternoon, and that's what's troubling you, isn't it?'

  'Oh, please,' she groaned, her cheeks burning with the fire of her shame and humiliation. 'We agreed we wouldn't discuss it.'

  'So we did,' he murmured thoughtfully, 'but you intrigue me, Lisa. You're a disturbing little creature at the best of times, and your eyes contain secrets that incite my curiosity. Your mouth suggests a hidden passion not yet explored, and it makes me wonder…' He paused significantly, and her senses were suddenly alert to the aura of sensuality that clung to him. 'It makes me wonder what you'll be like when you're totally aroused,' he concluded his tantalising statement softly.

  'You—you have no right to—to talk to me like this,' she rebuked him unsteadily, her body tingling as if he had actually touched her.

  'No, I haven't the right, have I,' he agreed, so close to her now that she could almost feel the heat of his body against her own. 'I must admit, though, that the temptation is very strong to continue where we left off this afternoon.'

  'Oh, no! Please!' she begged in alarm, her heart beating so fast that it, felt as though it would leap out of her throat.

  'Stop your trembling, Lisa,' he instructed harshly. 'I have no desire to force my unwanted attentions on you. Go up to your room and write your letters like a good little girl, if that's what you want, and…' He moved away from her then, and added: 'Pleasant dreams.'

  CHAPTER NINE

  In the seclusion and safety of her room Lisa paused to take stock of herself, and she was surprised to discover that Adam had been right. She was trembling, and she had -trembled so much down there on the verandah that, for one terrifying moment, she had been afraid that she might collapse at his feet, but, with her head held high, she had forced her unwilling limbs into action and had walked away from him. She had moved awkwardly, aware of his eyes following her limping progress, and she had been close to tears when she finally crossed the spacious hall and climbed the stairs up to her room.

  'Pleasant dreams,' Adam had wished her, but her dreams were anything but pleasant that night. The nightmares she had suffered after the accident returned, and Adam stepped into them with the stealthiness of a panther to stalk her ruthlessly and menacingly. She fled from him as if he were the devil himself, but her movements were slow and retarded. Her breath was rasping in her throat with the effort to escape those grasping hands, but she was captured just as the sky was rent with a terrifying flash of fire. She screamed and fought like a wild thing, but his hands were bruising her shoulders as he held her down.

  'Lisa!' his voice shattered her semi-conscious state, and her dream had suddenly become reality.

  Adam was bending over her, his harsh features acquiring terrifying proportions in the dull light of the bedside lamp as he shook her and called her name again. The sky and the earth seemed to come together in a blinding flash and a frightening crash of thunder, and his hand against her mouth stifled the involuntary scream that rose from her raw, aching throat.

  She went limp with fear in his grasp, her eyes wide and almost purple as she stared up into that ruggedly chiselled face. There was a violent storm raging outside, she realised at last, but the horror of her nightmare was still upon her as Adam removed his hand from her mouth, and the quick rise and fall of her breasts beneath the frothy lace still conveyed her agitation.

  'What—what are you—you doing in m-my bedroom?' she whispered hoarsely, her fingers against her aching throat as she continued to stare up at him with fear still lurking in her eyes, but subconsciously she assimilated the fact that it must be somewhere close to midnight, and that Adam was still fully clothed.

  'I was checking the windows down this end of the passage when I heard you scream,' he explained quietly, pouring water into a glass and seating himself on the side of the bed as she sat up to take it from him thankfully, but her hands shook so much that he had to hold the glass for her while she drank thirstily. 'Was it the storm, or a nightmare?' he wanted to know when she indicated that she had had enough.

  'I don't… know,' she lied unsteadily.

  'A little bit of both, perhaps?' he suggested, his eyes flicking over her with interest, and making her aware suddenly of the transparency of her nightgown.

  With her cheeks flaming, she jerked the sheets up to beneath her chin, and the storm outside seemed to be raging within her as well. The rain lashed against the window mercilessly, and she flinched inwardly as a flash of lightning tore across the sky with earth shattering results, but the storm was no longer only outside; it was in the room all around her, and the air seemed to be crackling with electricity.

  'I'm all right now,' she croaked jerkily, desperate now that he should leave her alone.

  'Are you sure?'

  'Yes… thank you.'

  His keen glance took in the whiteness of her thin cheeks, the disarray of her corn-gold hair, and the eyes dark and wide with some inner stress, but it was on the soft, quivering mouth that she fought so valiantly to control that his glance lingered.

  'My God, you're not all right,' he said thickly, and then she was gathered into his arms.

  He held her firmly but gently, cradling her against him as if she were a child in need of comfort and, suddenly, she was just that. Tremors shook through her with a terrible force in the aftermath of her nightmare, and then, as the well-remembered tension uncoiled very slowly within her, she sagged against him weakly. Emotionally drained and spent, she buried her face against him and was perfectly still.

  How long he sat like that with her she could not recall, but she was quite content to remain where she was when she eventually felt his lips moving against her temple, her warm cheek, and finally her faintly feverish lips.

  To resist never occurred to her at that moment, but his lips lingered, and the kiss deepened until a fire was kindled inside her. His hands were no longer merely comforting her, but caressing her until their warmth through the thinness of her nightgown made her skin tingle in response. Everything receded into the background; the storm, her nightmares, and also Willa's warnings. The only thing that made any sense at all at that moment was the sanctuary of his strong arms about her, and the heaven of his lips on hers, but heaven, too, had to end somewhere, she discovered when his arms fell away from her pulsating, responsive body.

  Confused and bewildered, she stared up into his dark, unfathomable eyes, and then his lips curved into that cynical smile she was beginning to know so well.

  'I didn't intend to do that, but I don't regret it either,' he said harshly, and reality was thrust upon her rudely, and shatteringly.

  She had needed comfort, and he had given it. What happened afterwards she had only herself to blame for. She had offered her lips willingly, and Adam had reacted accordingly.

  'I—I think you'd better go,' she whispered unsteadily, veiling her pain-filled eyes with her lashes.

  'I think so too, or I might be tempted to take an encore,' he agreed mockingly, getting to his feet and drawing himself up to his full height. 'Goodnight again, Lisa.'

  She stared at the door for a long time after he had closed it softly behind him. He had used the word 'tempted'. 'I might be tempted to take an encore.'

  Had she really tempted him?

  A quivering sigh escaped her as she leaned back against the pillows and switched off the light. The violence of the storm had passed, but the rain continued to beat against the window panes. Lisa watched it running down in rivulets against the glass, and, as she sighed again, the words of a half-forgotten poem struggled to the surface of her mind.

  Alas, how easily things go wrong!

  A sigh too much, or a kiss too long,

  And there follows a mist and a weeping rain,

  And life is never the same again.
/>   The rest of it was tantalisingly vague, but it could almost have been written entirely for her. She had sighed too much, and kissed too long, and life would never be the same again.

  'Love, true and enduring, is a once-in-a-lifetime emotion, and the rest are but poor substitutes,' her Aunt Molly had once told her. 'That's why marriage to someone else is unthinkable. No one could ever compare with Luke, no matter how hard they tried, and we would have ended up making each other's lives a misery.'

  Aunt Molly had been right, Lisa thought unhappily. Her love for Adam was that 'once-in-a-lifetime' thing for her, and no one could ever hope to compare favourably with him.

  The storm had lasted all night, washing away fences and uprooting trees which had stood in the path of the deluge. Lightning had struck the grass roof of a labourer's hut, setting it alight, but fortunately no one had been hurt, and for two days afterwards Adam and his men worked almost round the clock to repair the damage.

  Teamwork was of the utmost importance if Adam did not want to lose more of his livestock than he already had done, and Lisa found herself lending a voluntary hand in the kitchen to prepare food and drink for the men as they came in in relays. It was her first taste of what life on a farm was all about when emergencies such as this arose, and despite the long, tiring hours on her feet, she loved every moment of it.

  The situation was no better and no worse for Ken Rudman at Waverley, and when he finally arrived to make a full report to Adam he looked as tired and haggard as everyone else. His car came up the drive just as Lisa was returning to the house with the twins after a promised swim, and she sent them inside to change as Ken climbed out of his car and approached her.

  'Hello, Lisa,' he smiled a little wearily, jerking his thumb in the direction of the house. 'Is the boss in?'

  'I don't know. He went out early this morning on an inspection tour, and I haven't seen him return.'

  'You're not still angry with me, are you?'

  'I was never angry with you, Ken,' she assured him hastily.

  'Have you forgiven me, then?'

  'There's nothing to forgive,' she smiled at him, but he caught hold of her arm as she stepped past him to continue on her way up to the house.

  'Don't go yet. Sit here with me for a moment.' He drew her down on to the rough wooden bench beneath the eucalyptus tree, and looked at her closely for a few seconds before he said: 'You're very lovely, Lisa, and this isn't just flattery.'

  Lisa looked away uncomfortably, and murmured something appropriate, but Ken placed his fingers beneath her chin and forced her to look at him again.

  'I've never developed such an instant crush on any girl before, and it isn't going to be easy just being your friend, you know,' he told her with a seriousness she had not attributed to him, and she knew that somehow she had to make him understand that there could never be anything between them.

  'Ken, I'm sorry, but—'

  'I know,' he interrupted, releasing her. 'It's eyes on and hands off, but I'd like to know who's the lucky guy. I mean I'd like to know who beat me to it.'

  'You're mistaken. There's no one.'

  'My old dad always says that when a girl blushes you know she's lying,' Ken told her with a touch of humour in his glance, and her hands flew instantly to her hot cheeks.

  'Your old dad must know a lot about women, and their ways,' she laughed off her embarrassment.

  'You could say so, yes,' he nodded thoughtfully. 'He was married twice after my mother died, but both marriages ended in divorce. Now he just lives with whichever woman takes his fancy. It's less complicated that way.'

  'I suppose so,' Lisa agreed reluctantly, 'but it doesn't offer the woman much security.'

  'Most women couldn't care less about security these days,' Ken replied airily. 'They've stepped up into responsible positions once held only by men, and they've built up a secure future for themselves which doesn't necessitate security in marriage. To be tied to a man is an encumbrance, and a husband will inevitably display his chauvinistic tendencies one day by objecting to his wife going out to work.'

  An involuntary smile plucked at her lips. 'Are you a chauvinist?'

  'I don't think so,' he laughed, pushing a hand through his unruly hair, 'but I still like the idea of coming home at night to a wife who'll soothe me by discussing the little things that make life worthwhile, instead of a woman who's intent upon throwing facts and figures at me to impress me with her knowledge.'

  'You are a bit of a chauvinist, then,' she teased lightly.

  'I think most men are, although some are bighearted enough to pretend they're not,' he confessed with a boyish grin, and then he was serious again. 'You still haven't told me who the lucky man in your life is.'

  Lisa plucked a leaf off the eucalyptus tree and crushed it between her fingers to inhale the fragrance. 'Don't ask me, Ken.'

  'Is it such a terrible secret?'

  'There's no one, and I don't—'

  Her voice faltered at the sound of familiar footsteps crunching on the gravel, and she looked up quickly to see Adam walking towards them. Tiredness was etched deeply about his mouth and eyes, and the streaks of grey at his temples seemed to be more prominent than before, but as those dark eyes met hers, she lowered her lashes swiftly to hide the tender concern that lay in their depths.

  'Did you want to see me, Rudman?' he demanded abruptly, and Ken rose instantly to his feet.

  'Yes, sir.'

  'I'll be in my study. Make it snappy, will you?'

  'Yes, sir.' They watched in silence as Adam's tall, khaki-clad figure strode towards the house, then, as he disappeared behind the honeysuckle hedge, Ken turned to Lisa and stared at her intently. 'It's him, isn't it?'

  Lisa rose to her feet abruptly. 'You'd better not keep him waiting. He hasn't been in a very good mood these past two days.'

  'He isn't the marrying kind, Lisa,' Ken persisted urgently. 'When a man reaches his age without taking the plunge, then you can be sure he never will.'

  'More advice from your old dad?' she mocked him a little tritely, but Ken merely shook his head.

  'You're wasting your time, Lisa.'

  'And you're wasting Mr Vandeleur's,' she retorted sharply, determined now to end this conversation.

  'Just remember what I said,' he warned her, then raised his hand in salute. 'See you.'

  Disturbed that Ken should have guessed her closely guarded secret so easily, Lisa remained where she was for a few minutes longer to control the rapid, uncomfortable beat of her heart. If her feelings had been that obvious to Ken, then how obvious were they not to Adam, and anyone else who cared to notice?

  Her colour came and went as she wrestled with this burning question. There was nothing she could do now about Ken knowing, but she would certainly have to be more careful in future unless she wanted everyone to know exactly how foolish she had been.

  Lisa groaned inwardly and hurried inside to shower and change before lunch, and a half hour in Josh and Kate's company proved to be an excellent diversion for her thoughts, but their subdued behaviour at the luncheon table made her realise once again that something had to be done about the relationship which existed between the twins and their uncle. They stole furtive glances at him from time to time, and the fear and longing in their eyes was almost unbearable to witness.

  Erica Vandeleur was watching her grandchildren as well, as she had been doing since Lisa had brought the situation to her notice, but, when she met Lisa's beseeching glance across the table, she shook her grey head slightly, indicating clearly that this was not the right moment to broach the subject.

  Adam looked up then, and his mother hastily handed round the bowl of salad.

  'What about you, Josh… and you, Kate,' she said when both Adam and Lisa had declined. 'More salad?'

  The twins merely shook their curly heads as children often do, and before Lisa could correct them Adam demanded harshly, 'Where are your manners?'

  They literally shrank in their chairs as they chorussed hastily,
'No, thank you, Gran.'

  Adam's curt nod indicated that the matter was settled as far as he was concerned, but their flushed cheeks and quivering lips made Lisa's mouth set in a determined line. She would speak to Adam, and soon, she decided, but right now she had to get the twins upstairs to their room for their afternoon nap.

  That evening, after dinner, Lisa went for her usual walk. Her hip had improved considerably since her arrival on the farm, but it was not her hip she was thinking of at that moment. She was thinking of the twins, and what to do about the tense situation between them and their uncle. Would he take kindly to any advice she might care to offer? she wondered distractedly, but Rolf bounded up to her out of the shadows at that moment and, as she stroked and patted him fondly, the object of her thoughts materialised before her eyes.

  'A girl should never be allowed to dream alone in the moonlight.'

  'I wasn't dreaming,' she contradicted Adam's mocking statement as he fell into step beside her, but the unfortunate choice of a word took her back instantly to the night of the storm when he had awakened her from her terrifying nightmare, and the colour surged painfully into her cheeks as she recalled the way she had sought comfort in his arms.

  'I interrupted a very serious discussion between Rudman and yourself this morning. Were you thinking of him, perhaps?'

  Lisa recovered herself swiftly at the harsh mockery in his voice. 'Ken and I weren't discussing anything of importance. It was Josh and Kate I was thinking of.'

  'Really?'

  His sarcasm sparked off her anger, but, as she stopped and turned to face him, she knew that she would have to tread cautiously if she hoped to have any success. Should she speak to him now, or should she wait? she wondered nervously as she saw him clench his pipe between his teeth and thrust his hands into the pockets of his corded pants. He looked so formidable; so unapproachably austere at that moment. Did she dare speak to him about something which was really no concern of hers?