Say Yes Samantha

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Say Yes Samantha Page 7

by Barbara Cartland


  “Why should that question embarrass you?” he asked. “Who has kissed you so that you blush to think about it?”

  He spoke quite fiercely and, almost as if he compelled me to tell the truth, I said,

  “No one.”

  “What do you mean – no one?” he asked roughly.

  “I-I mean – no one has kissed me – except you.”

  He took his fingers from my chin and stared at me.

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Why shouldn’t you?” I asked.

  “Because I don’t believe it’s possible!”

  “Why not?”

  “Not looking as you look and being one of Giles Bariatinsky’s models.”

  “What has that got to do with it?” I asked.

  It was rather difficult to talk sensibly because David was looking down at me and it seemed to me as if his eyes were penetrating and at the same time suspicious.

  I couldn’t understand why he should think I was lying to him and yet I felt that he did.

  I looked away from him again with my eyelids half shut because I was shy. I suppose it appeared to be my enigmatic look. Anyway, just as David was going to say something, the waiter arrived with his cocktail and my tomato juice.

  It seemed to break some spell that David had cast over me and then the waiters started hovering around the table, the food arrived and we talked of other things.

  At first they were rather trivial and then he began to speak seriously about what he thought and what he felt. I found it absorbingly interesting.

  I really knew very little of what was happening outside Little Poolbrook. Daddy took The Morning Post, but I never seemed to have time to read it.

  Anyway I found it rather dull, so that I didn’t know about the terrible unemployment there was in the North, the injustice of not being able to take a holiday unless they went without pay, strikes where because their families were on the verge of starvation workmen had to give in however just their cause might be.

  David talked of all these things and I realised that these were the sort of subjects that he had written about in his book.

  “We’re not the only country where these things are happening,” he said. “The greed for money supplants everything else – Statesmen and politicians are the same whether they are in America, England or Timbuktu.”

  “I bought your book today,” I told him, “but I haven’t had time to read it.”

  “I hope you will like it,” he said. “I wrote it in the form of a novel simply because I knew that an official report or white paper is read by only a handful of people. Novels reach a far larger audience.”

  He paused to add,

  “There is also the chance that it may be made into a film.”

  “That would be wonderful!” I cried. “I do hope it is.”

  We had finished dinner by this time and only had two cups of coffee in front of us.

  I refused a liqueur, but David ordered a brandy.

  “May I smoke?” he asked. “You don’t, do you?”

  I shook my head.

  “You don’t smoke, you don’t really like drink and you say you that have never been kissed until last night,” he said mockingly. “You are very unpredictable, Samantha.”

  I didn’t answer and after a moment he said,

  “You also blush. I thought that was a forgotten art where young women are concerned.”

  “I can’t help it,” I said unhappily.

  “I’m glad you can’t,” he answered. “It’s very becoming.”

  He said it in such a strange way that I replied,

  “You make it sound as if I do it on purpose.”

  “I suppose that would be impossible,” he said grudgingly, “but everything about you is contradictory.”

  “I can’t help it,” I said again.

  “I don’t want you to help it,” he answered, “but it’s upsetting, for me at any rate.”

  “Why?” I asked in surprise.

  “Because,” he answered slowly as if he was choosing his words, “when I took you out last night I thought that it would be rather amusing, or rather, shall I say, I thought you would amuse me.”

  “And I – didn’t?” I asked.

  “Not in the way I expected.”

  Again there was a pause and I said,

  “Were you very – disappointed?”

  He smiled at that.

  “No, of course not! I was captivated and entranced in a manner I least expected. This morning I thought I must have been mistaken, but I wasn’t.”

  There was something in his voice that made it hard for me to breathe. There was that faint choking feeling again in my throat, but I managed to say,

  “I-I don’t think I – quite understand.”

  “Perhaps there’s nothing to understand,” he said. “I don’t know.”

  He spoke quite sharply and I felt as if he had suddenly thrown a bucket of cold water over me.

  I don’t know why, but it was as if I had said or done something wrong and I didn’t know what it was.

  David had been talking so animatedly, but now he sat silent just staring at me.

  After a moment I said uneasily,

  “What’s – wrong? You make me feel – uncomfortable.”

  “There’s nothing wrong,” he said. “But if you are really so inexperienced it’s puzzling and upsetting.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What were you expecting me to be like?”

  He grinned.

  “I don’t believe you would understand even if I told you.”

  “And you don’t – like me as I am?”

  “I like you very much as you are,” he answered, “too much, perhaps.”

  “Can one like someone too much?” I enquired.

  “I am not sure,” he replied.

  I had a feeling that we were saying much more to each other than we were putting into words and yet somehow it was like being in a maze and not knowing the way out.

  I felt bewildered and yet at the same time conscious of how wonderful it was to be beside David, to be near him and to be talking to him.

  He said he liked me very much. That was something, but I told myself I must be very careful not to let him know how much I loved him.

  ‘A woman must never make advances to a man.’ I felt sure that I had read that somewhere.

  But after all, I told myself, I didn’t make the first advance. David had kissed me and I had not expected him to do so,

  Henri brought the bill, then bowed us out with many expressions of gratitude and the hope that we would come again soon.

  I looked up into the sky. It was getting dark. The stars were coming out, although there was still a faint glow from the sunset left in the sky.

  “It’s a lovely warm evening,” I said and realised that we were both standing beside the car and David was gazing at me.

  “Does that mean that you want to go for a drive in the country?” he asked.

  “I hadn’t thought of it,” I answered, “but it would be lovely.”

  “Today is Thursday,” he said unexpectedly, “tomorrow is Friday. I’ve a suggestion to make to you. Get in.”

  He opened the door of the car for me and then walked round and climbed in beside me.

  But he didn’t start up the engine.

  He sat for a moment looking at me, then he put his arms round me and kissed me.

  It had been wonderful last night, but it was even more wonderful tonight. I felt the same marvellous feeling rising inside me, the same ecstasy seeping over me until it was difficult to think and I could only feel.

  It was as if David carried me up to the stars and we were lost in the sky and there was nothing left of the world but ourselves.

  It was so marvellous, so magical that when he set me free I could only lie with my head against his shoulder for a moment.

  Then I turned my face to hide it against his neck.

  “Darling!” he said. “Darling!”

  “
I love – you!” I whispered. “I – love you!”

  He drew me a little closer.

  Then he said,

  “Do you mean that, Samantha?”

  “I mean it!” I answered, “and it’s so wonderful – so unbelievably – exciting!”

  I lifted my face up to his and he was kissing me again.

  They were hard possessive kisses, which seemed to draw my heart from between my lips and make it his.

  I was his!

  I felt that I belonged to him and I knew that there could never, never again be another man who could ever mean anything in my life.

  After a long time, when David had kissed me again and again until I knew that I had reached the very zenith of perfect bliss, his hands touched my hair.

  “I still cannot believe this is happening,” he said. “Do you really swear to me, before God, Samantha, that you have never kissed anyone else before?”

  “No one!” I answered. “Oh, David, it’s very different from what I thought it would be like.”

  “What did you expect?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I answered, “but I didn’t expect to feel that I – belonged to you, that I was – part of you, as I do – now.”

  “My darling!” he said.

  Then he was kissing me again until I could no longer think or speak. I could only feel my body vibrating to his.

  How long we sat outside the little pub, I don’t know.

  The only light came from the windows. Later on they went out and we were completely in the dark except for the stars overhead.

  “I must take you back, Samantha,” David said, and his voice sounded low and husky.

  “Must – I leave – you?” I asked foolishly.

  “Not for long, my precious,” he answered. “Tomorrow is Friday, as I told you. I’ll arrange something, just leave it to me.

  He kissed me again.

  Then he drove back to London very quickly, although my head was on his shoulder and he had one arm round me.

  When we reached the boarding house, I said,

  “I don’t want to go – in. I feel as if we shall lose – something – something wonderful and precious we found tonight.”

  “We won’t do that,” David answered, “I promise you.”

  He kissed me very gently, first my mouth, then both my eyes, the tip of my nose and then my mouth again.

  “Goodnight, my little love!” he said. “Go to bed and dream of me.”

  “How could I dream of anyone else?” I asked.

  “I should be very jealous if you did,” he replied and now the laughter was back in his voice.

  “When shall I see you again?” I asked.

  “What time can you get away from the studio?”

  I thought for a moment.

  “Usually early on a Friday,” I answered. “So with any luck I should be back here by about a quarter past five.”

  “I’ll pick you up at half past,” he said. “Pack some things for the country.”

  “For the country?” I repeated. “That will be exciting! It will be lovely to get out of London.”

  “It’ll be lovely anywhere with you,” he answered.

  He kissed me again, a quick rather hard kiss and then he jumped out of the Bentley and walked round to help me onto the pavement.

  “Goodnight, my precious!” he said.

  “Goodnight, David,” I answered.

  I wanted to tell him what a perfect sublime evening it had been and thank him for my happiness, but there were no words.

  Instead I walked up the steps to the boarding house feeling as if I floated on air, that the whole world was golden, wonderful and indescribably perfect.

  When I reached my bedroom, I sat down on the bed and found myself thanking God because I was so grateful for David.

  Suppose, I said to myself, I had never found him? Suppose I had never known that love was like this? Suppose I had let one of those other stupid young men kiss me?

  I was so lucky – so incredibly lucky to have found love, real love, just as Daddy had hoped I would.

  Perhaps it was his prayers, I thought, that had brought David to me. I would write and tell him and I knew how pleased he would be.

  I climbed into bed and began to plan how we would be married in the little Church at home. The flowers would hide the ugliness of it inside, but I knew that any place would seem beautiful if I was marrying David.

  I supposed we should have to invite Lady Butterworth and all the people in the village who had known me since I was a child, but they would not really matter.

  There would be only one person in the Church as far as I was concerned and that would be David.

  I felt myself thrill at the thought of how he would slip the ring on my finger, how Daddy would say, as I had heard him say a dozen times before,

  “Repeat these words after me – with this ring I thee wed – with my body I thee worship – ”

  I would be David’s wife.

  Burying my face in the pillow I hoped that we would not have to wait very long. I wanted him – I wanted to be close to him.

  I wanted him to love me – to go on loving me – not only in the daytime but at – night.

  Reflection 12

  I was ready by five-thirty the following day only by the skin of my teeth.

  There seemed to be so many things to do at the studio and Giles didn’t leave as early as he usually does on a Friday.

  I also had a tremendous rush during the lunch hour because I tore out and bought myself two cotton dresses and a bathing suit.

  I had said to Miss Macey when I arrived in the morning,

  “What sort of clothes do I need for the country?”

  “What sort of country?” she asked.

  “A house party, I suppose.”

  “Well, that can mean a lot or a little,” she replied.

  I thought that Melanie, who was in the changing room, was not listening, but apparently she was because she came out from behind the curtains to say,

  “Who are you going with, Samantha?”

  I saw no point in lying so I answered,

  “David Durham.”

  “Ho! Ho!” Melanie exclaimed. “You are getting very grand! Well, I can answer your question. You want everything smart you possess.”

  My heart sank, but I realised that there was some point in what Melanie was saying.

  After all David Durham was very smart and his friends would be those scintillating, polished, elegantly-dressed Socialites who really rather frightened me.

  I had hoped that we might be going to stay with a quiet married couple with no one else in the house except ourselves.

  But when I thought of it, I realised that that was not the sort of party David would like. After all, hadn’t I met him at the Meldriths’?

  And when he was talking to me he had mentioned all sorts of exciting people with whom he was apparently on familiar terms.

  Members of the Government, heads of industry, broadcasters, newspaper Proprietors, they were all just names to me, but I gathered that they were interested in David’s ideas.

  “I am sure I shall have all the wrong things,” I said desperately to Miss Macey, remembering the green muslin I had made myself and how scornful Giles had been of it.

  “Don’t look so worried, Samantha,” Miss Macey replied. “Just take two nice cotton dresses for the daytime, which is all you will want in this heat and you have plenty of elaborate gowns to wear in the evening.”

  She had been much kinder to me recently and didn’t speak to me in the aggressive tone she used to Melanie and Hortense.

  “You’ll want a bathing suit,” Melanie said. “I expect you have one.”

  Of course I didn’t possess such an object, neither had I a simple cotton dress among the clothes Giles had bought for me when I arrived in London.

  So I asked Miss Macey to write me down the address of a place where I could buy the dresses and she told me that there was a store in Bond Street
that sold really attractive bathing suits.

  I felt rather guilty about spending any more money until I had paid back Giles what I owed him. But I wanted to look nice for David and I felt how terrible it would be for him to be ashamed of me when I was among his grand friends.

  The cotton dresses were pretty and really very cheap. The bathing suit seemed ridiculously expensive considering how little there was of it!

  I had to buy a cap as well, which looked rather like the cloche hats that all the fashionable women were wearing on their heads.

  I ran back to the studio and arrived only a few seconds before Giles was ready for me. So I had no lunch.

  Not that I felt hungry! When I thought about last night, I was too thrilled to want to eat and so excited to think that in a few hours I would be with David again.

  ‘Can he really love me as much as I love him?’ I asked myself not once but a dozen times during the afternoon.

  I remembered the note in his voice when he had said, ‘goodnight, my little love,’ and I was sure that he did love me and I was the most fortunate girl in the whole world.

  I must try not to be clinging and tiresome because I am in love, I told myself.

  I kept thinking of the whining note there had been in the voice of that woman called Elsie when she had been pleading with Lord Rowden on the roof garden at the Meldriths’ party.

  It was so obvious that he was bored with her and she was trying to hold on to him when he had no further interest in her.

  It’s her own fault, I told myself. After all, Lord Rowden is a married man and, if she let herself get fond of him, she has no one else to blame!’

  I couldn’t help feeling a little tremor of fear in case the time came when David grew bored with me.

  Then I told myself that love – real love – grew and increased over the years. It was only the wrong sort that faded and disappeared.

  That was why Daddy had been warning me not to become involved with a man unless I was quite sure that he loved me.

  Well, I was sure – absolutely sure – about David and I knew that we would be blissfully and marvellously happy together.

  I wondered if we would live in the country or in London. I did so hope he would choose the country.

  “Am I going to wait for you all day?” Giles asked sharply and I realised that I had been dreaming instead of arranging myself in front of the camera.

 

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