“You’ve changed clothes,” he said.
“Is there a law against it?”
“Do you have to be so damned cute? Where are you going?”
“I’m going outside. I’m going to take a walk in the gardens. Would you like to chaperon me, or do you think I can manage on my own?”
“You’re without doubt the most infuriating woman I’ve—”
“Go to hell,” I said firmly.
Evan Porter looked utterly frustrated as I left him standing there in the hall. I stepped outside, quite pleased with the way I had handled the situation. Your acting is improving, I told myself. You carried that off like a real pro.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I walked for a long time, moving through shafts of radiant sunlight, enjoying the exhilaration of exercise and fresh air and the smell of the sea. I needed to clear my head. I needed to hear the birds warbling and insects whirring and leaves rustling in the breeze, to watch the soft mauve-gray shadows spread over the grass and the misty white clouds drift over the pure expanse of pale blue sky. This was real: walking, feeling my own body moving, my muscles flexing, in the sunlight and salt air. The other was a nightmare world that didn’t exist at all, not at the moment. At the moment I was able to put it out of my mind and build up my strength and relax, deliberately forgetting everything else.
I walked the length and breadth of the gardens, examining the beds on both sides of the drive; finally tired, I sat down on the wall at the very end of the gardens. Behind me was space, a steep cascade of granite plunging down to the rocks far below. The breeze was stronger here, swirling my hair about my head in billowing strands. The sound of the waves was loud—a wet slapping, a splattering crash, a receding slosh, constantly repeated. Turning to my left, I could see down the length of the gardens, past the bowling green to the house at least three city blocks away.
Silhouetted against the sky, spreading in all directions and rising at different levels, it was majestic. The walls were a dazzling white in the sunlight, spread with shadows from balconies and eaves. The brown shutters were dark, the slate roof shone a deep dull red, and rays of sunlight burnished the bronze bells in the carillon. As I watched, a tower window flew open and a hand came out, sprinkling something over the ledge. Immediately the air was filled with sea gulls, appearing from out of nowhere, it seemed, scraps of white and blue-gray swarming about the window. For several minutes they dipped and darted and screamed raucously, their cries reaching me from the distance; and then the window closed and they disappeared like bits of confetti. All but one. He remained on the ledge, pacing about impatiently. I wondered if it was the same angry gull who had peered in at us yesterday morning.
There was so much to think about, yet I refused to acknowledge any of it. I thought, instead, of London and Ellie and the cluttered, noisy flat we had shared over Covent Garden. That seemed so very long ago now. I remembered the sudden, impromptu parties she had thrown, the swarms of good-looking men who filled the place, Ellie’s vitality and incessant gaiety. I missed her dreadfully. I could pour out my heart to Ellie. I could tell her everything, and she would know exactly what to do, exactly how to handle things. Ellie would make short shrift of Evan Porter, of Helen and Burke. She was so sure of herself, so strong in spite of her frivolous, carefree façade. I wished I had some of her strength. My own had to be manufactured from scratch through sheer willpower.
Sitting there on the wall, I could feel myself weakening. Indecision and self-pity were gradually taking hold. I was in over my head. I was insane to think I could handle this alone. I wanted to go back to my room, pack my bags, leave immediately for London. If Grey loved me enough, he would come after me. In London, surrounded by all the safe and familiar things that were a part of me, I could make my stand. A swarm of tiny yellow butterflies fluttered down over a bed of grass and rose en masse, trembling on the air a moment before vanishing into the woods like fragments of yellow silk carried on the wind. If he loved me, I repeated, he would come after me. If he loved me, he would understand.… No, no, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t give in, not after I had come this far. I stood up, frowning. It was time to manufacture some more strength.
Preoccupied, I started back toward the house. I had reached the bowling green before I heard the voices coming from up the drive. They were distant, barely audible, and I could discern only sound, not words. Moving around one of the evergreens, I peered up the drive. Evan and the girl seemed to be arguing violently. They were standing just a short distance from the portals. His hands were on his hips. She clutched the violet shawl tightly about her, and although I couldn’t make out her expression from this distance, I could tell that she was greatly upset. He thrust his jaw out and said something that made her flinch.
The girl stepped back as though terrified. Evan seized her shoulders and shook her violently. She pulled away from him, lashing back at him in a voice that was a shrill thread on the wind. Evan said something else, and the girl recoiled. Her violet shawl slipped down her arms, and she pulled it back up, wrapping it about her. Evan glared at her, the tail of his red and black striped jersey belling out in the wind. The girl seemed crushed. Head lowered, shoulders hunched, long black hair spilling down on either side of her face, she looked broken. After a moment she drew herself up with touching dignity. Chin held high, she looked into his eyes, and I thought I saw tears gleaming on her lashes. She said something in a low voice, so low that the sound was entirely lost, and then she turned away from him and walked toward the portals.
Evan stood where he was, watching her leave. For a moment her bright violet shawl was visible beyond the portals, then it was lost in the shadows thrown by trees growing thickly on both sides of the drive. Evan came back toward the house, and as he drew nearer I could see that his face was dark with anger. Glancing up suddenly, he saw me standing by the bowling green. He grimaced, shaking his head as though this were the last straw. I made no effort to leave, knowing it would be foolish to try to avoid him now.
“You’re all over the place, aren’t you?” he said nastily, joining me beside one of the evergreens.
“I told you I was going for a walk.”
“That was over an hour and a half ago.”
“Really? Has that much time passed?”
“This hasn’t been my morning,” he grumbled. “I suppose you saw. Yes, you did. I can tell from the look on your face.”
“I saw you with the girl, if that’s what you’re referring to.”
“You saw me shake her. I guess you think I’m a brute.”
“Something like that.”
“And you want to know who she is. Right?”
“Not especially.”
“Her name’s Valerie. She works at the pub down in the village. She’s what you might call a—uh—casual friend. A man gets desperate cooped up on this island, and I took her out a couple of times. Nothing special, mind you, nothing to get excited about, but Valerie—” He hesitated, groping for words. “She misconstrued things, got the idea a couple of inconsequential dates entitled her to stake a claim on me.”
“I see.” I knew he was lying through his teeth.
“She phoned from the pub, said she had to see me. I told her to forget it. She said she was coming to the house. I said don’t, you’ll just be wasting your time, but she’s persistent. I came out to head her off. I knew damn well there’d be a rip-roaring scene, and I didn’t want Mother to hear. She thinks I’m above women like Valerie.”
“Evidently she doesn’t know you very well.”
“The bloody wench thought she could trick me,” he continued, ignoring the dig. “It’s the oldest trick in the world, and I wasn’t buying any. I told her so in no uncertain terms. I got pretty riled up, I’ll admit. I don’t usually manhandle my women, but this was a special case. She’ll have to find herself another sucker.”
“She’s a very beautiful woman,” I remarked.
“How could you tell? You were so far away.”
“I’
ve seen her before.”
Evan was startled, but he did his best to conceal it. “Oh? And where have you seen her?” His voice was extremely casual.
“At the pier. She was there when we arrived on the island. I rather thought she’d come to meet Grey.”
“What gave you that idea?”
“Her manner, for one thing, and Grey’s indifference. No man is that nonchalant about a woman who looks the way Valerie does.”
“What did he say?”
“He denied knowing her. Of course.”
“He was probably telling the truth,” Evan replied, shoving a heavy black wave from his forehead. “Grey’s always gone after women, but he prefers a more refined type. He’d never look twice at a type like Valerie; he hasn’t got my base instincts. Well, it’s almost an hour before lunchtime. Maybe I can finish that damned report after all.”
Evan went on inside. I knew there wasn’t a word of truth in what he’d told me. He wasn’t a very good liar, and he had been lying outrageously. Why? And why had he taken such pains to explain why he had been quarreling with the girl? It was completely out of character. He was the one who had brought it up, providing answers to questions I hadn’t even asked. Knowing I had seen him with the girl, he had been eager to explain everything thoroughly before my curiosity could expand. I realized he had been trying to hide something, and I suspected it involved Grey. Was he trying to cover for Grey?
I wasn’t particularly sophisticated, I knew, but I certainly wouldn’t have been shocked to discover that my husband had had an affair with the girl. I knew his highly sensual nature, his strong appetites, and Valerie was one of the sexiest creatures I had ever seen. Queen Victoria had been dead for decades. Men did have affairs before marriage, and a great many girls did sleep around before they got a wedding band, even if I hadn’t. If Grey had been her lover, that was that. I wasn’t going to swoon in horror, not in this day and age. Why had Evan been so cagey, saying she wasn’t Grey’s type, making such a point of it?
I didn’t know, but it was one more thing I intended to find out.
Grey met me in the front hall. He looked handsome in tight blue denim trousers and a bulky-knit white sweater. His eyes lit up with pleasure when he saw me coming in, and his mouth spread in a wide smile.
“There you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Evan just came in, said you’d been taking a walk.”
I nodded. Grey pulled me into his arms and kissed me, then put his arm around my shoulders.
“Burke and I went down to look at the boat earlier on. It’s in very good shape.”
“I’d like to have gone with you.”
“You were sleeping like a baby when I left. I didn’t want to wake you. Figured you needed your rest. I thought maybe we’d take the boat out tomorrow morning if it’s clear. Would you like that?”
“It would be lovely, Grey,” I replied, trying to sound enthusiastic.
“Hey, we’ve got an hour to kill before lunch. What would you like to do?” He curled his forearm around my throat, squeezing gently. “Want to try to beat me at another game of billiards?”
“I suppose so.”
“Come on, then.”
Arm crooked around my shoulders, he led me into the billiard room, as merry as a child. I tried to muster some enthusiasm as he placed the three ivory balls on the table and handed me one of the short, leather-tipped cue sticks. “You go first, luv,” he said, extending his arm toward the table. I chose my cue ball, lined my stick against it and shot, failing to get anywhere near the other two balls. Grey laughed, took his stick and proceeded to score point after point. Finally he missed. I shot again, managing to tip the side of the red ball. Grey leaned against the wall, slapping his stick against his leg like a riding crop. I shot again, this time with such force that the ball sailed over the table and banged against the wall.
“Terrific, luv! Now let me show you how it’s done.”
We continued to play. My heart wasn’t in it, but I kept playing for his sake. Grey was enjoying himself immensely, throwing himself into the game with great zest. He trapped the balls in a corner, scored repeatedly, smiled broadly as he won yet another game. I finally put my cue stick back in the rack. He looked disappointed but didn’t protest. We’d been playing for forty-five minutes. His hair was damp, plastered over his forehead in a tangled blond mass. Leaning against the wall, I looked at him. He glowed with health, looked so large and warm and happy. I felt a tightness in my throat. A poignant feeling welled up inside. Sensing my mood, Grey came and stood in front of me, spreading a palm out on the wall on either side of me. He looked deep into my eyes and then, tilting his head down, kissed me for a long time.
“There’s something I think you ought to know,” he said.
“What?”
“I love you, luv.”
“Grey—”
“With all my heart. That sounds corny as hell, doesn’t it?”
“It sounds lovely.”
I brushed the damp hair from his forehead. His hands were resting on my shoulders now; his strong fingers squeezed my flesh. I looked up at him. His face was inches from my own. I saw the strong jaw, the curving pinkness of his mouth, the broad cheekbones, desire-filled blue-gray eyes with sleepy, drooping lids and beautifully shaped brows—all so near, like a living movie close-up. He curled one hand around the back of my neck and bent down to kiss me again. I wrapped my arms around him, ran my hands over his shoulders, feeling the smooth muscular contours beneath the soft white sweater. His mouth was tender and firm, caressing mine.
In the doorway, Judy coughed discreetly. Still holding me against him, Grey looked over his shoulder at her.
“I’m ever so sorry, I’m sure,” she said, “but Mister Evan said for me to tell you lunch is ready and you’d better come eat because Cook’s in a state because no one but Miss Carolyn ate breakfast, all that food uneaten after her goin’ to such trouble and—”
“All right, Judy.”
She left. Grey sighed deeply, holding me loosely.
“You didn’t eat breakfast either?” I asked.
“Wasn’t time. We left too early.”
“Is Cook temperamental?”
“Bossy as hell,” he said, stroking my cheek.
“We’d better go.”
“I can think of things I’d rather do.”
“I know.”
“Later,” he said huskily.
He held my hand tightly as we walked down the hall to the dining room. I felt much better now. I had needed that long, lazy kiss, had needed the reassurance it had given me. He loved me. Because of them, because he felt he had to, he was keeping something from me, but he loved me. That knowledge strengthened me. I knew I was doing the right thing. Those moments of weakness out on the wall had been folly. I couldn’t leave him. I knew Grey didn’t want to be part of their conspiracy, and I sensed that he was somehow vulnerable, that for all his strength and robust energy he needed my protection. I couldn’t explain the feeling, but it was there nevertheless.
Much to my surprise, Helen was at the table. Her face looked tense and strained, but it was well under control. Evan had changed into a charcoal-gray business suit. The smudges were still under his eyes, and his face seemed to sag with fatigue. His hair was neatly combed and still rather damp. The two of them had obviously been discussing something heatedly before we arrived. Both looked up. Evan made no effort to rise, but I didn’t expect him to. Stella set bowls of soup in front of us, and a minute or two later the door cracked open and I saw a flushed, angry face peering at us—Cook, no doubt, checking to see that we were really eating. Evan and Helen were both silent during the meal. Grey was too hungry to notice the tension crackling in the air. I ignored it.
“I finally finished that report,” Evan said after Stella had cleared the dishes away. “I’ve got to take it over to the office. I’d like for you to come with me, Grey.”
“Can’t,” Grey replied casually. “Carolyn and I have plans.�
��
“It’s important. You haven’t been over since you returned. I think you should put in an appearance.”
“Sorry.”
“I want you to go with me.” Evan’s voice was firm.
“Jesus Christ!” Grey exclaimed, but he made no further protest.
Twenty minutes later, I was standing beside him on the front steps as Burke brought the Rolls around. Evan carried a small black leather briefcase, but he was terribly unconvincing as a businessman, looking more like an eighteenth-century pirate incongruously dressed in modern attire. My hand in Grey’s, I watched the gleaming tan and brown Rolls circle the drive and stop in front of the steps. Burke got out and held the door open for them. He didn’t so much as glance at me. I wondered if he intended to tell them about this morning. For some reason I rather doubted it.
“How long will you be gone?” I inquired.
“We’ll be back around four,” Evan said.
That should give me plenty of time, I thought.
The Rolls disappeared through the portals. I hesitated for just a moment on the front steps. Helen had gone back up to her room immediately after lunch. The servants were all busy with their chores. No one would miss me. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure I wasn’t being watched, I started briskly down the drive. It took me almost five minutes to reach the portals. The drive passed through the woods only a short distance, I remembered, and then it began to curve down to the village. I walked briskly, smelling pine and salt air, watching light purple shadows stretching over the dark gray road. A light wind stirred the trees.
I had no idea what I was going to say to her, but I knew that Valerie was somehow or other involved in all this. If Grey had indeed been her lover, the interview might be difficult. I was prepared for that. I remembered the way Evan had seized her shoulders, shaking her violently. Everything else aside, Valerie had reason to resent Evan Porter, and I felt she might be willing to talk to me.
The road made a wide turn, curving toward the mainland, and in just a few minutes the thickest woods were behind me. I paused for a moment, standing on the crest of the island. Below I could see level after level of dark green pine trees rearing up, narrow, sloping gullies between them and large gray boulders scattered about. The road looped around the side of the hill in a series of winding curves like a dark ribbon threading through the pines. Although from where I stood I could look out over the water and see the mainland beyond, the village was invisible. I would have to go down farther before catching sight of its rooftops. I rested for a minute or two, then started down, staying at the side of the road, following its winding course.
Room Beneath the Stairs Page 14
