Hannah came into the room. Yvette followed her with the coffee tray, which she set down upon a table that was an exquisite period piece enriched with marquetry and ormolu mounts.
‘Pour the coffee, please, Zoe,’ Hannah requested.
Zoe hoped the relief she felt at the timely delivery from Tony’s clutches wasn’t evident in her expression. And if it was, she hoped that at least Hannah would realize that it was because she thought displays of affection, even between the most loving of engaged couples, should be kept for private moments.
Matt walked over to the liquor cabinet. ‘Any takers?’ he asked, glancing back.
Hannah considered. ‘A small cointreau for me, I think, please.’
‘Coming up! Zoe?’
‘Nothing for me, thank you,’ she said, looking up briefly from her task of pouring Hannah’s coffee.
‘Tony? I don’t suppose you’ll be declining,’ Matt said.
Tony’s jaw clenched. ‘Cognac. A large one.’
Hannah reached out to take the delicate china cup from Zoe. ‘Thank you, dear. Matt is fixing the car so that you’ll be able to travel farther afield.’
‘That’s very kind of him,’ Zoe responded pleasantly, even though she thought that getting the car on the road again was for Hannah’s sake and not hers.
Hannah then said, ‘You should take advantage of Matt while he’s here and get him to take you around.’
‘Zoe can take advantage of me any time she likes,’ Matt inserted dryly.
Zoe had felt a distinct stirring of sympathy for Matt while Tony had been pawing her and gloating over his ownership of her. After that remark, she wondered why.
‘Matt comes and goes with amazing speed,’ Hannah chatted on regardless; ‘so don’t lose a moment’s time, Zoe.’
‘No, don’t, Zoe.’ Matt nodded in agreement.
‘Do you want coffee, Matt?’ Zoe asked, her eyes chilling him.
Not that he looked chilled as he replied, a faint smile touching his mouth, ‘No, thank you. I’m going out.’
‘That has the flavor of an assignation?’ The inflexion in Hannah’s tone turned the words into a question.
‘Monsieur Dupont is having a kind of old boys’ reunion dinner. When I took Camille home earlier he asked me to join the party for a drink afterward . . .’
For the purpose of alleviating Camille’s boredom, no doubt, Zoe thought.
‘. . . no point in waiting up for me.’
‘As if I would. I stopped waiting up for you years ago.’ The puzzled look had returned to Hannah’s face. Zoe could have told her the jibe was meant for her. ‘Convey my fondest regards to André, and give Camille a kiss from me.’
‘Will do.’
‘I didn’t think you would find that much hardship. And tell André that I want him and Camille to come over for dinner while you’re still here. I’ll get in touch with him very soon to arrange something.’
* * *
The next morning Zoe woke with the intention of avoiding a repeat of the previous day’s breakfast encounter with Matt. Strategy was not required of her. A surreptitious peep along the balcony showed the remains of Matt’s breakfast. He had eaten and apparently gone down.
Zoe made her way downstairs to find Hannah on the point of sitting down to breakfast on the terrace.
‘Ah, Zoe! Good morning. I missed you yesterday. Were you earlier or later than me?’
Not only would a lie have been pointless, but if it was found out it would make it look as if she had something to hide. ‘Neither. Matt was having breakfast on the balcony when I went out, and he asked me to join him.’
‘That figures. Matt is one of the few men I know who’s civil at breakfast time. Poor Tony is unbearable until he’s read at least three pages of the morning newspaper and had two cups of coffee. He takes after his father, my late son-in-law, in that.’
‘Tony, presumably, isn’t up yet?’
‘I don’t think Tony will be putting in an appearance for some time. He had too much to drink last night.’
‘I noticed.’
‘He’ll be sleeping it off. He doesn’t say a lot, and I’m not saying that I approve of excess drinking, but I think he’s in considerable pain with his leg. He doesn’t seem as mobile as he should be. Do be tolerant of him.’
Zoe thought that Tony’s lack of mobility came from laziness. It couldn’t have been easy to adjust, and she did sympathize with him, but she found his lack of effort something to deplore. As for Tony’s ‘not saying a lot,’ Hannah must have been wearing ear muffs; he was forever complaining about how much discomfort he was in. However, Zoe felt that she’d received one gentle rebuke for her dry agreement on Tony’s drunken state, so she smiled and promised, ‘I’ll try.’
‘Good girl. I knew you would. Something’s going on between Matt and Tony, although I don’t know what.’ The shrewd eyes looked appraisingly at Zoe for a moment. When nothing was forthcoming, Hannah continued, ‘It’s laughable really, but Tony is nearer Matt’s age than Matt is to Tony’s mother, his own sister. Because of that they’ve always been more like brothers than uncle and nephew. Even if there’s no cause, brothers will always make up something to fight about. Perhaps I was too old when I had Matt. It shames me to say it, but I’ve never properly understood him. He was as naughty as any small boy . . . but the way he always accepted the blame, no, that wasn’t natural.’
‘You’re saying that as if you don’t think that accepting the blame is a good trait. Surely it’s better than trying to wriggle out of it?’
‘I agree, but sometimes Matt was punished when the punishment wasn’t justified. He would never explain why he’d acted in the particular way he had. The reason for doing something sometimes cancels out the wrong. I could never get that across to Matt. If he’d done something, he’d done it, and there was no place for ifs and whys in his reasoning. The action always had to stand up on its own. He has this stubborn streak in him that doesn’t allow for mitigating circumstances or acknowledge weakness in any form. If he’s intolerant of others—and I must admit that I sometimes think he’s too hard on Tony—then he’s equally hard on himself. He’s not had things easy. There’s a part of his life that he’s sensitive about. There was this girl . . .’ Hannah broke off in some confusion. ‘You’re such an easy person to talk to, Zoe. And perhaps I would find it a relief to talk about it to someone sympathetic. But Matt’s hurt is his own affair, and to talk about it would be a betrayal of him. So not another word.’
Even though her curiosity was fully aroused, Zoe knew that it wasn’t fair to probe. With a faint sigh of regret she switched to something else, something she felt needed to be said. ‘I owe you an apology, Hannah.’
‘An apology? Whatever for?’
‘For any indelicacy you may have observed yesterday. Tony was very affectionate.’
‘Yes, he was.’
Hannah’s steady regard of her told Zoe that this wasn’t going her way at all.
‘I thought . . . I was afraid you might think it would have been better if . . . if he’d waited until we were alone.’ It had been quite painful to stammer out that admission. Need Hannah look so amused?
‘Oh, Zoe, I may be old, but not that old! That was the first healthy sign I’ve seen between you. Since you’ve been here, the pair of you have been acting as though the fire had gone out of your feelings. My dear late husband and I were more than man and wife, we had a passionate affair until the day he died. Of course, he was twenty years my senior, so I knew that if nature followed its course he would go first. That being so, we were never complacent about one another. We made the most of every moment we had together, sometimes at the expense of others. Matt suffered more than Nerissa. With him arriving on the scene fifteen years after she did, his father was more like his grandfather. The time we had together was slipping away and doubly precious, but that was no excuse, and looking back I realize that we were selfish to shut Matt out. Then, when my husband died, I withdrew into myself. I condem
n Matt for being intolerant of weakness, in himself as well as others, but I’m to blame for that. I let him get on with growing up all by himself, and on the whole he’s made an excellent job of it. I’m a very lucky woman that we’re so close now. It would have been easy for him to bear a grudge for my shortcomings. But then, he’s his father’s son, with his father’s strong character.’
‘I think there’s one trait that Matt gets from you. You’re being too hard on yourself. You’re not allowing for the mitigating circumstances.’
‘Thank you, Zoe. That’s very kind of you.’
‘It must have been wonderful to know a love like yours.’
‘It was, even if it was sometimes a strain. Things were more formal in those days, attitudes more correct. It was difficult to conform and not flaunt our feelings. We were like young lovers to the end. We couldn’t bear to be out of one anther’s sight. But why should this surprise you, Zoe?’
‘It wasn’t like that with my parents. They loved one another dearly, I’m sure of that, but not in the way you describe. My mother once tried to explain it to me. She said that their love was constant, like the moon. She said it was better to have a lasting love like that than a love that had all the passion and fire of a meteorite, but would eventually burn itself out.’
‘It isn’t a foregone conclusion that one love will end any quicker than the other. And even if the danger was there, I would always go for the passion and the fire. Perhaps what your mother had was right for her. I would be the last to suggest otherwise or question her judgment. But it wouldn’t have been right for me, and I know it wouldn’t be right for you. You might put on a cool façade, but at heart you’re a deeply passionate woman. Don’t go against your nature, child. At your age it wouldn’t be right. At my time of life it’s possible to settle for second best, perhaps . . . I’m going to tell you something in the strictest confidence. My dear friend, André Dupont, has asked me to marry him several times. I’m not really sure of my reasons for saying no. I’m not looking for another meteorite, not at my age. Anyway, who knows but that it’s in the stars that we’re only capable of one all-consuming love.’
Zoe left Hannah to her thoughts, her memories, touched by the confidences she had been entrusted with, but not totally convinced. The beliefs of a lifetime couldn’t be torn down in moments, and Zoe had too high a regard for her mother’s wisdom to doubt those long-ago words said to the impressionable child she had been. But she thought about the things Hannah had said, on and off, all day. Most of her concentration went to the incident concerning Matt and the girl. A part of his life Matt was sensitive about, Hannah had said. Had this girl turned him down and left him antimarriage? Had she hurt him very much, and was that why he was the way he was now? Was that why he used women and wouldn’t let any one woman come too close to him? Perhaps something in him had been destroyed by his lonely childhood and this later traumatic event, and he was incapable of acting differently. But surely all this proved that her mother’s beliefs were right? Matt’s meteoric affair with the girl had burned itself out, on her side at least, leaving Matt hurt and cynical.
* * *
She had done her duty, sitting with Tony for much of the day, sympathizing with him for feeling off color, even though she knew he was merely suffering the effects of a hangover. But finally she’d had enough of trying to amuse him and decided to stretch her legs before getting ready for dinner.
She was halfway down the road when she heard the healthy purr of a car engine. All she’d seen all day of Matt was two legs sticking out from under Hannah’s car. Now his jubilant face smiled at her from behind the windshield. He pulled up alongside her and poked his head out the open window.
‘Success?’ she said.
He gave an affirmative nod. ‘Sure thing.’
She noticed that he’d changed out of his oil-stained jeans into casual slacks and a cool-looking gray and blue shirt, its open neck showing his deeply tanned throat. His attractiveness constricted her own throat, and she wondered if he was on his way to see Camille again.
It took her by surprise when he cocked his chin at a jaunty angle and said, ‘I’m doing a test drive. Fancy coming with me?’
Didn’t she just! The temptation was irresistible. She asked herself what harm Matt could get up to in the short time before they had to return so they could get ready for the evening meal. She was wearing separates, a jazzy mint-green suntop and a lemon cotton skirt with patch pockets and a wide waistband to show off her trim waist. Neither of them was suitably dressed to sit at Hannah’s table.
With a small reckless laugh she said, ‘Why not?’
The passenger door was opened for her and she got in.
It was a beautiful day ready to slide into a beautiful evening, and some small renegade part of her wished they didn’t have to return in a hurry. She wished that Matt was taking her for a long drive with a leisurely meal at the end of it. Somewhere quiet and intimate where they could begin again, get to know one another afresh. The breeze from the open window whipped her hair across her face. As she removed it from her mouth she contemplated her madness at letting such a thought into her head.
CHAPTER SEVEN
She should have been concentrating on the passing scenery, but her gaze kept being dragged back to the clean-cut obduracy of his profile, the competence of his hands on the wheel, the tantalizing strength of his thigh.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘No particular destination. Just following my nose. Why?’
‘Don’t go too far. Remember Hannah’s predilection for punctuality.’
‘Can one go too far, Zoe?’
The sensual intonation was deliberate.
‘Stop that, Matt.’
‘Stop what? I haven’t touched you.’
‘Just see that you don’t.’
‘If you say so. I’m law-abiding at heart. I obey the rules of society and adhere strictly to the highway code, or any code. If you put up prohibitive signs, I’ll observe them.’
She believed him, so why did she feel uneasy? Determinedly she turned and made herself look out the car window, but although she pretended to be totally absorbed, she was too conscious of Matt to banish him wholly from her thoughts.
They were traveling in an easterly direction, following what was supposed to be one of the most picturesque roads in Europe. For a while the car hugged the coastline of the Côte d’Azur, named for its blue and sparkling sea. The area was sheltered by the Alps, and its exceptionally mild climate produced vegetation like that in much hotter countries, palms, dates, oranges, bananas, and pomegranates. And flowers, everywhere flowers. Then Matt pointed the nose of the car inland, and they climbed a secondary road through magnificent mountain scenery with beautiful views of the sea below.
‘Next time you’re dabbing scent behind your ears, bear in mind that the rose, violet, hyacinth, or whatever it was made from was probably grown not too far from here.’
‘Is that a fact?’ Zoe said, although it was something she had already read somewhere and stored away. The area was noted for the large amount of flowers it grew for sale in London and Paris and for making perfume.
Never again would she take out a perfume stopper without thinking of that moment. Yet no bottled fragrance could equal the scent carried on the warm breeze.
‘I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be late getting back,’ Zoe despaired, the words a contradiction to her deep sigh of content.
‘Does it matter?’
‘I shall stand behind you and let you take the brunt of Hannah’s wrath.’
‘What about your fiancé’s wrath?’
Why did he have to remind her of Tony? ‘His, too,’ she said.
‘Coward.’
‘Perhaps I just like a quiet life.’ She didn’t care if he did read a double meaning into that. Life with Tony would be more tranquil than with him. ‘I think we should turn back now. But first, can we stop, please, and get out to look at the view?’
‘Of course.’
He slowed and pulled in at the first convenient place.
As she got out of the car he said, ‘Does it constitute touching you if I hold your hand? Not because I want to hold your hand, of course, but because it’s the gentlemanly thing to do to help a lady over rough ground.’
His mood was too mischievous. She didn’t trust it. But she gave him her hand as they walked to what Matt assured her would be the best vantage point. When they stopped, Zoe drew her breath in sharply. It seemed unfair that this sun-drenched corner of the earth should abound with so much beauty. It was a miracle of nature that no mortal painter, no matter how delicate his touch, could reproduce. The last rays of the sun brushed deep shafts of coppery gold over the earth, animating each rock and tree, every sweeping line and plane of color, down to the sparkling, breathtaking blue of the sea.
Zoe’s eyes soaked it all up. She was still savoring it in wonder and awe when she felt the first soft suspicion of a raindrop. She looked up at the sky. Surely its loss of vivid blue was because of the fading daylight? It was incomprehensible that rain would spoil this lovely day, and she dismissed the feather touch on her cheek as imagination, until it was joined by another . . . and another. The gentle cascade gained momentum and grew into a shower which, with relentless, fiendish speed, turned into a drenching downpour. Matt took her hand and they ran back toward the car. The rain beat them back with tropical force. They plowed on, feet squelching, blindly scurrying for the cover of the car. What had initially seemed a short walk was a waterlogged nightmare on the return trip.
Matt wrenched open the door for her, his hands closing on her hips and pushing her in before he ran round to the other side and got in himself.
Paradise Found Page 10
