Too Young to Marry

by Rosalind Brett

  “No, but I’ve dressed dozens of cuts. I was in charge of the first-aid box during my final year at school.”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “I finished last year. Will you pass the scissors?”

  He did, and said, “You must have been a rather unusual sort of schoolgirl.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Well, you’re unusual now. Girls usually fall over themselves in their attempts to be sporting and boyish in behavior and ultra-feminine in looks. You’re almost natural.”

  “Only almost?”

  “Well, there’s something...” he hesitated. “Have you a parent who beats you?”

  She smiled, bending over his hand. “No. Have you?”

  “You’re evasive—that’s why you’re not quite natural. But I still think you’re a knockout.”

  “There.” She patted the adhesive tape which held down the soft dressing. “You’ll have to wash carefully till tomorrow. Now I must go.”

  “Dash it,” he said cheerfully, “I never knew a girl to ignore every cut the way you do. I don’t believe you’ve the faintest idea who I am!”

  “I don’t want to know,” she answered, as she wiped her hands, “and if we’re introduced some time you can keep this episode to yourself. I only came here to save you from tetanus.”

  “And you’d have done as much for a dog. Wait till I tell Paul Westbrook about this. He’ll say it’s just what I need, but I’m not sure that’s right. In any case, you’re much too gentle and pretty to have a hard heart. I’m going to invite you over to Main Island.”

  Lorna was stilled. “Main Island?” she echoed. “Is that where you’ve come from today?”

  He nodded. “Heard of me—Colin Garfield?”

  Swiftly, Lorna adjusted her thoughts. Colin Garfield! Why in the world hadn’t she thought of that!

  “You’re the Governor’s son,” she said quietly.

  “So you’d better be nice to me.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “To see Paul—my cousin. Know him?”

  Somehow she could only say, “Yes, I know him.’

  “But I don’t suppose you know him very well. He’s great, but uncommonly deep. By the way, do you know if there’s a company car I can use?”

  Lorna came to a decision. Rightly or wrongly, she would find out all she could before revealing who she was. She said casually, “I’m using a jeep with a driver, and you may come along, if you like. Can you manage the case, or does a Governor’s-son call someone to carry his goods for him?”

  “I can cope,” he said witheringly. “Let me go first and I’ll help you up.”

  Activity on the beach was still limited to the boat-hewers, and no one appeared to be interested in the extremely fair young man and the brown-haired girl who walked at his side, though the jeep driver sprang to attention and grabbed the case, to stow it on the seat beside him. It was a four-seated vehicle, and Lorna squeezed in behind the driver with Colin following. He was not much above the average height but his knees pressed hard against the back of the front seat.

  “Tight fit,” he commented,' “though I daresay you’re rather more comfortable than I am. Do you have to go my way, or are you being kind to an injured rubber man?”

  “This is my way, too. How much of a rubber man are you?”

  His voice lowered, confidentially. “Not much, to be honest. I didn’t want a career, but Paul believes in them. I came down from Cambridge three years ago and was very willing to loaf out here for as long as my father would stand it. But Paul wouldn’t have it. I refused to be interested in the sap that pours out of trees into little cups, so he shoved me into the administrative side, under the manager on Main Island. It satisfies Paul and the old man is delighted.”

  “Is it so important to satisfy your cousin?”

  “It is really. I’ve looked up to him since I was a kid. He was always the strong character, the leader. In a way he’s ruthless, but it’s the type of ruthlessness that gets the right kind of results.” He paused, and said suddenly, “I’ll tell you something. He’s married someone none of us have ever heard of and the old chap’s been upset. For him, of course, Paul can do no wrong, so he’s more or less over it, but he’s a stickler for formality. I have the tricky job of persuading Paul to bring his wife over to Main Island for a conventional church wedding.”

  Lorna’s hand’s, resting on her knees, went damp. Yet her mouth was dry as she asked, “Does Lady Alys Garfield wish it, too?”

  He shrugged disarmingly. “Alys says nothing; she merely looks down that beak of hers and waits. There are ramifications, you see. Kyrle—she’s Aly’s daughter—was favorite for the Paul Westbrook stakes. I never liked Kyrle—we were both nearly twenty when our parents hitched up—but I must say she’s taken defeat extremely well. She’s too painfully well-bred to show even a scrap of feeling, but it must have been a blow because my father was backing her up no end.”

  “Is she ... in love with Paul?”

  “I think so, in her wintry fashion. She often came over to Panai, and she even talked about building a new big colonial house right among the plantations, and starting a conventional sort of social pattern for the island. Everyone thought the new house was Paul’s idea, till he wrote to my father telling him he was on the point of marrying someone else. We had a couple of days of mourning at the Residency, I can tell you!”

  Lorna looked out at the passing trees. It took a great deal of courage to put the next question. “What happened when your cousin went over to Main Island, after his marriage?”

  “Surprisingly little, as a matter of fact. It was a week or so ago. He saw my father about half an hour, briefly paid his respects to the rest of us and cleared off to the company meeting. We expected him to say at least one night, but he didn’t even have dinner with us. I suppose he didn’t like to leave the little woman too long. And yet...”

  “And yet ... what?”

  He sighed. “There’s something hazy about the whole thing. I wouldn’t mind betting Paul hasn’t really taken a toss for this girl he’s married. It just happens to go rather conveniently with some plan he has.”

  “You think he’s ... cold blooded enough to use someone in that way?”

  “It’s just possible.” He pulled up a knee and rubbed it “A fellow who hasn’t been married long ought to show something—don’t you agree? Paul was completely calm and businesslike. I tried ribbing him and I’m sure if it had been anyone else he’d have knocked them flat. Funny, isn’t it? You know a man all your life and then something he does wipes out all understanding. Am I boring you?” Boring was hardly the word. She shook her head and said in low controlled tones, “I’m glad you told me. How long are you staying in Panai?”

  He laughed ruefully. “My father told me not to go back without Paul’s consent to the church ceremony; how long it will take is anybody’s guess.”

  She felt the wind, cool over her damp skin. She thought of telling him, baldly, that she was Paul’s wife, and then it didn’t seem very important. Colin Garfield was happy-go-lucky, essentially agreeable and easy to like. Now that she had let him go so far she would have to try to match his mood so that the truth, when he heard it, would not shake him too much. It wasn’t easy, with that weight in her chest and dread in all her bones, to state airily,

  “Well, that’s your problem. If I were you I’d make a big fuss about that cut in your hand and try to look a bit sick. At least it should save you from violence.”

  “That’s an idea.” He let an inquisitive brown glance slide over her smooth young face. “I like you, sweetie. I like you very much. How do you manage to look forlorn and gay at the same time?”

  “It’s just a feminine trick. I’m full of them.”

  “That’s just it—you’re not artificial at all. Do you like dancing?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t had much practice. Do you go in for it on Main Island?”

  “Next to polo it’s our chief pastime. Will you come
over one week-end and sample them both?”

  “I don’t think so. Do you have dances at the Residency?”

  “My father gives a dinner about once a month—generally when Paul is there—and then there’s a Governor’s Ball twice a year. We have a club where you can dance most nights, and people arrange functions in their houses. There’s no shattering excitement for anyone like me, though. The women are nearly all married.”

  “Hard luck. Still, it’s probably good for your self-discipline.”

  He grimaced. “You sound like Kyrle, except that there’s a smile in your voice. Don’t you think it’s time you told me who you are?”

  “You’ll probably be annoyed with me when you find out.”

  “Sounds interesting. You’re not related to the secretary, by any chance? I don’t think I’m much overdrawn at the moment!”

  She laughed. There came a diversion in the shape of a tiny wild pig scuttling across the road, and then the jeep slid round the drive to the front of the bungalow.

  Colin said artlessly, “I’m permitted to ask you in for a drink. Paul is practically my brother.”

  “Thanks very much.”

  She was shedding the slightly sombre mood and now it became rather fun to let him take the initiative. She preceded him into the living-room, but stood there while he went to the cabinet and got out bottles, the sparklet and glasses.

  “What’s your tipple?” he asked. “Gin or whisky?”

  “Does it have to be one of those?”

  “It mostly is. Don’t tell me you’re addicted to absinthe!”

  “Only when I go to Paris,” she said. “May I have just orange and soda?”

  “Heavens, you are new to Panai. All right—orange and soda. Have you been to Paris or was that a gag?”

  “A gag, I’m afraid. I always used to hope I’d have a chance to air the French I acquired at school, but it wasn’t to be.”

  He filled his glass and raised it. “Here’s to the Mystery Girl.” He drank, and added, “You can talk French here, you know. The Main Islands are British, but we do have a few French officials in Panai. The rubber estate was once the property of a French family—there were only coconuts then.”

  Lorna hadn’t heard that before. Somehow, the fact that she had to be told such a detail by a young man she had met only half an hour earlier was painful. She gave a bright brief laugh.

  “Have you a cigarette?”

  “Sure.” He put down his drink and took a box from his jacket pocket, opened it. “How long have you been out here?”

  “In the South Seas? A few months.”

  “And in Panai?”

  “Three weeks.”

  “How come I didn’t meet you before?”

  “Because you haven’t come to the island, I suppose.”

  “But you must have been over to Main?”

  “No.”

  His glance at her was lively. “Are you a prisoner? May I dash to the rescue?”

  “You’d make too much noise about it.” She bent to the match he was holding, inhaled smoke for the first time in her life. “Besides, you’re the Governor’s son.”

  “That doesn’t mean a thing. Didn’t you know that the sons of exclusive families are always vehemently proletariat? I’ll charter a helicopter and we’ll land miles away.”

  She smiled. “There you are—I said you’d be too noisy! If I ever decide to escape I’ll slide away in the darkness, and...”

  She broke off suddenly as a figure filled the doorway, became horribly conscious of the glass in one hand and the cigarette in the other, of the last few words she had spoken. But Colin was not in the least put out.

  “Hi, Paul,” he said. “Hope you didn’t mind my helping myself to drinks. There was no one around.”

  Paul came in, a tight smile on his lips but no vestige of a smile in his eyes. “I was told your launch was at the jetty, and thought I’d better come here straight away. You and Lorna seem to have made friends very quickly.”

  “Lorna?” said Colin blankly. He gazed at her, flushed at remembered indiscretion and then looked at her left hand. His eyes widened at the sight of the thickish gold band on her finger, and for a moment it was absurdly obvious that he was kicking himself for not having noticed it before. Then he laughed suddenly, delightedly. “You were getting at me!” he accused her. “How was I to know that Paul’s wife would be so extraordinarily sweet and tantalizing? Why, you’re practically my sister!”

  Being young and a shade irresponsible, he swallowed the rest of his drink, almost tossed his glass on to the table and took both her hands in his. He swung her round, gave her a resounding kiss on the cheek and a brief warm hug.

  Rather forcefully, Paul stubbed out the cigarette she had left burning on the ashtray; but he spoke evenly. “Lorna, you might tell Jake there’ll be three of us for lunch.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said, not looking his way. She was at the door when she added, “It was my fault Colin didn’t know who I was.”

  “Not entirely,” Colin said quickly. “You see, Paul, I hurt my hand...”

  But Paul put in coolly, “It’s not important. Come outside, Colin. What I have to say won’t take long.”

  Lorna stole along to the kitchen. She felt bruised and frightened.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LORNA did not return to the living-room till Jake was ready to serve lunch. She had changed into a simple pink and white frock and white shoes, and she came in smiling, her eyes bright and defensive as she looked from the fair Colin to the angular features of Paul. As arranged, she had no sooner entered the room than Jake wheeled in the trolley loaded with dishes of sliced tinned meats and salads, and in no time at all Paul was seating her and taking his own place, while Colin sat directly opposite.

  Colin was slightly subdued, so that Lorna did not have an opportunity of seeing these two men as they normally were together. Paul, patently, was master of the situation; so much so that a situation hardly seemed to exist. He had probably spoken plainly and to the point while alone with Colin, so that now the younger man thought before uttering a word—behavior which was as alien to his nature as it had been to Lorna’s a few weeks ago.

  They were eating a concoction of papaia, pineapple and orange segments when Paul stated calmly,

  “Colin is going back home this afternoon. He’ll use one of the company launches and I’ll get his engine looked over. I expect he told you that we’ve been invited over to the Residency?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  “I can’t accept offhand,” Paul said in those level tones, “but I’m sending a note to say that we’ll go over as soon as we can.”

  Sounding a little bewildered, Colin put in, “I told Lorna why I came today.”

  “Even though you weren’t aware she was Lorna?” Paul asked sharply.

  “Well, you know how it is.” He floundered. “It’s so easy to know some people—to tell them things you might not tell someone else you’ve known a lifetime. I can never resist a girl who laughs and takes a micky. We didn’t...”

  “All right.” The words were dismissive. “Will you pour the coffee, Lorna?”

  There was do strained silence. Paul spoke about some statistics which Colin could take back with him, and report about the wave of thefts which seemed now to have ceased, if only temporarily. The meal finished and Jake cleared, and at about three Paul looked at his watch and said Colin had better leave fairly soon.

  The suitcase, apparently still unopened, was placed in the back of the tourer and Lorna went down with the men to the path. Colin said he was sorry he had talked to her so foolishly, that he was darned glad to have met her and hoped to see her on Main Island soon. Paul opened the car door for Colin, but before bending to get in the young man remembered something.

  “Paul, I brought a note for you from Elise Ramsay,” he said. “It’s shut up in my case but it may be fairly urgent.”

  The reply was non-committal. “You can look for it when we get down
to the jetty. It may take some minutes to get a launch ready for the trip. So long, Lorna.”

  She waved a hand and went back into the living room. For a moment she wondered why Bill Ramsay’s wife should write to Paul, but it appeared a trifle compared with other happenings. She walked round the room, feeling a little sick and despondent. She tried reading for a while but it was no use, and finally she went to her room to finish off the Chinese silk frock.

  She had made the frock as Paul had suggested. A sheath skirt with a nine-inch kick-pleat at the back, a high neckline with a narrow V opening, below which there were three square buttons. It was nothing like any dress she had ever owned before, and when she postured in it she felt foolish and strange. But it did make her look slightly older, which presumably was what Paul wanted. She hung the frock away, slipped on a thin robe which was girdled at the waist and pushed a chair just outside the open french door of her room. She had been sitting there only five minutes when Paul came back, at least an hour earlier than he usually turned up after a day’s work. Lorna stayed where she was, but soon there came a knock at the bedroom door behind her, and Paul came through and stood beside her.

  She cast him a swift upward glance. “You’re early. Did your cousin get away all right?”

  He nodded. “I came straight back to have a talk with you.”