Chains of Regret

by Margaret Pargeter

  She realised one night that she had to see him again and remain with him-if this was what he wanted, regardless of the consequences, until she had settled her debts. Even though his hate might hurt excruciatingly, she had to face it. Running away had solved none of her problems. It had merely labelled her, in her own eyes, at least, as a coward!

  Mrs Lamb’s hand was better and she was so grateful for everything Helen had done she insisted on giving her five pounds when she left. She made Helen promise that if she was ever in Newhaven again she would come and see her. Helen had told her, quite truthfully but without going into details, that she had been unhappy at home but felt the time had come when she must go back and sort something out. As she said goodbye, she firmly replaced the five pounds in Mrs Lamb’s hand, saying gently, and meaning it, that she owed Mrs Lamb much more than Mrs Lamb owed her!

  She started off early in the morning, but it was almost dark before she reached Oakfield, which lay fifty miles on the other side of London. As she walked wearily up the drive she almost turned and went away again. She loved Stein and wasn’t ashamed of it-if she was ashamed of anything it was that it had taken her so long to realise it, but she wondered if the words she had whispered to him in his bedroom had completely betrayed her. What had she said, in that mindless moment of yearning for a culmination which had never arrived? She remembered murmuring that she had always belonged to him, or something like that. A statement from which Stein’s astute brain might easily have extracted the precise meaning. And while she felt she might somehow find the strength to withstand the ridicule he would undoubtedly pour on her head because of other things, she wasn’t sure if she would be able to endure it if he began taunting her because of her love for him.

  The house looked the same. Around the last bend of the drive Helen paused to gaze at it, a lump in her throat, feeling she might have been away for years instead of days. It was an old house with a warm, graceful appearance which even a cold night like this failed to dim. She had always loved it, but for the second time in her life she felt apprehensive on approaching it.

  A dampness touching her face made her realise it was raining and if she hung about much longer she would only get wet. There could be no escaping the ordeal ahead, and the longer she hesitated the faster her courage was ebbing.

  The door wasn’t locked and she didn’t knock.

  Pushing it open, she walked straight in, fearing the slightest pause might be enough to send her flying back down the drive again.

  There was no one around, which wasn’t so unusual, but the silence struck Helen as distinctly odd. A kind of shiver ran down her spine as without thinking she dropped her rucksack to the hard polished floor. The ensuing clatter of the metal-ended fasteners echoed in an exaggerated fashion, like a noise in an empty house, and suddenly, as if it really had been quite loud, the study door was flung wide open and Stein stood there.

  For all she had come specially to see him, Helen’s first instinct was to run. But she had done too much of that already and her legs seemed somehow to have lost their strength. It was the sight of his face, more than anything, which frightened her. It was gaunt, the bones standing out as if he had lost weight. She noticed the signs of fatigue about his startled grey eyes and the deep lines which curved his harshly held mouth. He looked older, yet it was merely a week since she had seen him.

  Surely such a change couldn’t be entirely due to her? He couldn’t hate her that much, surely!

  ‘Stein!’ she whispered, not realising how pale her own face was. ‘I’ve come back…’

  ‘You have?’ The words were rapped out roughly, Helen felt their impact like a blow.

  ‘I wanted to return the money I borrowed from your dressing-table.’ Quickly she took it from her pocket and laid it on the hallstand. ‘I forgot to leave a note and I suddenly realised you might think Paul had taken it..’

  Brusquely, Stein retorted, ‘I don’t even recall leaving it there. I had more important things to think of.’

  He advanced towards her with such coldness that she was immediately terrified.

  Blindly she turned, making for the stairs, but she had barely reached the first step before he caught her. ‘My God, Helen,’ he bit out hoarsely, ‘what do you think you’re trying to do to me?’ With a savage movement he put a stop to her wild flight. ‘Where the devil have you been?’

  He sounded infuriated, almost beyond knowing what he was saying. Mute with shock, she could only shake her head.

  ‘You think it’s your mission in life to see me suffer?’ he snarled.

  His face was icy and barbaric. Helen stared at him as he spun her fully round to face him, his eyes annihilating her. ‘Stein?’ she breathed weakly, as he forced her to look at him. She wasn’t sure what to make of his livid accusation, but she was astonished at the driven anger in his face.

  ‘I shouldn’t have run away,’ she faltered, trying to hold herself stiffly, so he wouldn’t know she was trembling.

  For an answer he drew a deep breath between his teeth and snatching her up in his arms, carried her straight to his study. As she was held tightly against him, her heartbeats quickened, threatening to choke her. She tried desperately to hang on to her deserting senses. What’s Mrs Swinden going to think? she wondered distractedly, remembering how the woman rarely missed a thing.

  The door closed behind them, but he didn’t put her down. Gazing up at him, Helen heard herself confessing helplessly, ‘I didn’t mean to come back, Stein.’

  His eyes flared darkly,lit by a brilliant fury. ‘I would have found you. I haven’t stopped looking, day or night. God, I could kill you!’

  She thought he meant to try, as his mouth descended on hers, taking her breath away. With a smothered groan he dropped her to her feet without allowing her to move from him. He kept her savagely a prisoner, his arms tightening around her as the pressure of his mouth both hurt and exalted her, bringing her to a shuddering realisation of the depth of her feelings for him.

  Thrusting a hand through her hair, he twisted it cruelly, not pausing until she whimpered with pain. ‘I’ll make you suffer!’ he muttered roughly. ‘Not as much as you’ve made me—that would be impossible, but I’ll make your life a constant misery!’

  As she struggled for breath, he spoke hoarsely against her mouth in a voice she scarcely recognised.

  His lips were hard, taking hers by storm, arousing a storm of wild sensation. Fever began burning along her veins like a scorching fire while every nerve in her body seemed to be leaping. Blindly her arms wound round his neck as she found herself kissing him back, returning passion for passion. What did it matter if he hated her when he could make her feel like this? For a second she was pierced with anguish, until the driving desire in his hands and mouth began changing her sadness to delight.

  A shaft of sanity got through as his frenzied kisses eventually had to ease, but when she tried to twist away he placed a hand under her chin, holding her quite still, refusing to let her go.

  ‘I need this,’ he muttered thickly, his eyes glazed. ‘Don’t try and stop me.’

  Helen didn’t want to. She was ready to give him anything he asked. She had returned to pay, and keep on paying. It was the increasing force of her own emotions that made her terribly afraid. She looked at Stein, her blue eyes wide and feverish, full of uncertainty. ‘Please,’ she whispered, ‘won’t you let me explain?’

  He laughed harshly, his eyes blazing. ‘Do you know what these last few days have done to me? You’ve killed me by inches, over and over again!’

  ‘Stein?’ She was shaking because of his tortured expression, but she had to try and get through to him.

  ‘Where have you been?’ He refused to let her speak, nor did he make any attempt to disguise the savage jealousy in his voice as he ruthlessly removed her shabby jacket. ‘Dressed like this, like a little tramp! Have you been sleeping in the gutter? And who with?’

  ‘No!’ she gasped, suddenly suspecting that his mind might be in an even more
unbalanced state than her own.

  His eyes were full of icy sparks as they roamed over her, and she bore the anger of his disapproving stare as he surveyed her shapeless sweater and jeans, as bravely as she could.

  ‘Stein!’ she entreated again. ‘You have to listen!’

  ‘Shut up!’ As if to make sure she did, his mouth roughly renewed its assault on hers, and, in the brief moment before she surrendered to its force, Helen wondered apprehensively if, by disappearing as she had, she had driven him too far. Whatever purgatory he was in, he seemed intent on taking her with him as his arms crushed her to him, the feelings he aroused blinding her to everything but her own needs. His hands explored her body, while the pressure of his mouth increased urgently, and she met his silent demands by clinging to him fiercely while white-hot flames consumed them both. Her senses were swimming. In her ears she could only hear her increased heartbeats and the throbbing of Stein’s against her breast. Wildly they pounded together until she was driven almost unconscious by the intensity of the sensation flooding through her. Never, not even on the night responsible for her mad flight, had it been quite like this.

  ‘I love you, Stein,’ she heard herself breathing beneath his passionate lips. ‘I love you …’

  He became very still. She recognised this stillness in him, for she had experienced it once before. The muscles of his strong neck became wholly tense against her encircling arms and she could feel his body trembling strangely.

  ‘Helen!’ he said hoarsely, pulling her head back, the glitter of his eyes bringing her swiftly to her senses.

  ‘Do you realise what you’re saying?’

  Helen blinked, becoming suddenly as rigid as a small statue as her eyes dilated before the intensity of his.

  She had confessed that she loved him, she thought she must have said it a thousand times in fevered murmurings and in her mind, but it was still undeniably the truth. She was unable to deny it, and her blue eyes held a dazed reflection of a mind stripped of any ability to deviate.

  ‘I’ve been fighting it a long time,’ she admitted weakly, ‘ever since I first knew you. After I came home, after Dad died, I think I realised then what was happening, but I tried to ignore it. I didn’t succeed,’ she blinked at him through gathering tears. ‘Trying not to love you was like trying to avoid getting wet after being caught miles from shelter in a storm. I was soon overwhelmed. Now you can laugh,’ she choked, her slender control breaking when he didn’t speak, ‘I should think your victory must be almost complete?’

  ‘Don’t!’ Stein swallowed thickly.

  Taking no notice, she rushed on hysterically, her small face strained, ‘Don’t you think it’s funny? Nothing could hurt a girl more than loving a man who can’t stand the sight of her. You must have achieved much more than you set out to do and you’re probably feeling rather embarrassed by it all. But…’

  Suddenly, almost painfully, he placed a hand over her shaking mouth, stemming the wild tide. ‘Helen!’ he groaned, the anger in his expression changing to such rare tenderness that she could only stare at him with damp, bewildered eyes. Gently he pulled her down to the sofa, keeping his arms around her. ‘Helen,’ he repeated huskily, ‘why didn’t you tell me you loved me before? I’ve been nearly driven crazy, loving you, longing for you, searching for you. I saw you murdered, raped, lost, frightened, everything imaginable, until I thought I was going insane!’

  ‘You—you did?’ she exclaimed in a daze, her eyes fever bright. How could Stein Maddison, so coolly confident and arrogant, be going insane because of her? Yet, gazing at him closely, she was tempted to believe it.

  He did have the appearance of a man driven to the brink of temporary madness. She saw it in his eyes and had felt it in the frenzy of his kisses. But if he had been so distracted, why hadn’t he been pleased to see her?

  ‘You were so angry when I arrived,’ she faltered.

  He didn’t pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. ‘I lost my head,’ he said grimly, his face paling as though he was only beginning to realise how much and the knowledge astonished him. When he admitted that he couldn’t recall it happening before, Helen didn’t disbelieve him.

  His arms tightened, but the quality of his strength had changed. No longer was he using it to hurt her. She could feel it now, like a protective cloak, remorseful and comfortingly warm instead of coldly frightening.

  ‘You’ve no idea,’ he muttered thickly against her cheek, ‘what your disappearance did to me. When I saw you standing in the hall, looking as if you’d just been away having fun, something snapped. I seemed to forget the ordeal I’d just been through, the agony of being unable to find you, or perhaps the strain of it had proved greater than I’d thought. Suddenly you were there, and all I could think of was hurting you-to compensate for some of the torment. I’m sorry, my darling,’ he stared at her with agonised eyes, ‘I wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head-I love you so.’

  He had mentioned loving her, but she hadn’t allowed herself to believe it for fear he hadn’t really meant it.

  Now she could no longer doubt the depth of feeling in his eyes and voice. ‘If only I’d known,’ she whispered breathlessly, ‘I would never have run away.’

  His eyes darkened, as if even to think of it caused him pain. ‘When Paul rang and told me you’d gone, I just about flayed him alive over the phone!’

  ‘It wasn’t his fault,’ she protested in dismay.

  ‘I know it wasn’t,’ he said ruefully, ‘I apologised later, but you don’t know how I felt, learning you had left like that, especially after what had happened the night before.’

  ‘We don’t have to talk about it,’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes, we have,’ he insisted roughly but with something in his voice which took her breath away. ‘I intended making love to you. I almost did when I suddenly realised how innocent you were.’

  Helen laid quick, loving fingers over his lips while a flush stained her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry, Stein, that I’m not more—more experienced.’ .

  ‘I’m not.’ His eyes flared darkly, his body tense. ‘At the time, though, it was a shock, after everything I’d said and thought.’

  ‘That was mostly my fault,’ she confessed .

  ‘When you fainted,’ he went on tautly, ‘I felt like death. The next morning I could hardly look you in the face. I didn’t go to the office until later, I just drove round trying to think. I called in at the office briefly— that was when Paul caught me, I’d decided to return and beg you to marry me, and I knew we had to talk. I realised if I’d been wrong about one thing, I might easily have been wrong over others. I’d been too angry ever since you left home to go to France to see things clearly, but that morning, sitting in my car, I was suddenly convinced there was a lot you’d been hiding from me.’

  ‘A lot I should have told you,’ Helen admitted with a shamed nod. ‘Oh, Stein,’ she put her arms around him tightly, ‘if you were stubborn, so was I, but I wasn’t ever as bad as you thought. I felt I’d done wrong and it was better that you should think the worst or me. I’d treated you terribly and neglected my father. It seemed only right that I should pay for it.’

  ‘We should have talked,’ he said grimly.

  ‘You did.’ Her voice was faintly teasing.

  ‘Why didn’t you shut me up?’ he groaned harshly. ‘In France, when I realised how wrong I’d been about you, I nearly went insane.’

  ‘You’ve been to France?’ Helen’s eyes widened incredulously. ‘When?’

  ‘After I couldn’t find you here,’ his mouth tightened, as he recalled the agony of a fruitless search. ‘I remembered Mrs Swinden telling me you’d had a call from France, and I thought that was where you must have gone.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘All I found was further proof of how wrong I’d been about you. I went first to your friend Madame Sommier, who appeared to take fright at the sight of me. She gabbled on about meaning to return the money you’d given her, which I gathered was the
full amount I had sent you.’

  As Helen flushed guiltily, he proceeded thickly, ‘From there I managed to trace Madame Sibour, who told me how you’d helped her for a year with the children and everything, after her first husband died. Why didn’t you say something, Helen?’

  Helen swallowed at the reproach in his voice, the pain in his eyes. ‘It wasn’t because I really intended deceiving anybody.’ Confused, she bent her head. ‘The reason began long before I left England. You must know that.’

  ‘I knew things were bad,’ Stein agreed tautly, ‘but then it had been bad between us, hadn’t it, from the very beginning?’ As Helen glanced up at him quickly, and hesitated, he insisted gently, ‘I think the time has come to be completely honest with each other, darling, if we’re to make a fresh start.’

  She nodded with a sigh. ‘It’s just that Dad was a part of it and I wouldn’t want it to seem that I was criticising him. I believe he always believed he was acting for the best.’