White Rose of Winter

by Anne Mather

  Julie moved away from the door, aware that Robert’s cold words were merely the tip of the iceberg, so far as his anger was concerned. Had they been alone she was quite sure he would have taken hold of her and demanded forcibly to know where she had been. Or perhaps he already knew. Perhaps he had seen her arrive back with Francis.

  She endeavoured to remain composed for Miss Lawson’s sake, whoever she might be, and made a confused gesture. ‘Yes?’ she queried. ‘Forgive me, but why have you been waiting for me?’

  Robert’s control was magnificent, but his eyes burned with something much more malevolent than mere irritation at her absence. ‘Miss Lawson is the governess I have employed for Emma,’ he stated, his eyes holding hers almost against her will so that Julie felt a shaft of pure unadulterated fear inside her. ‘You may recall, I mentioned the matter to you.’

  She dragged her gaze away and tried to concentrate her attention on the young woman seated so relaxedly on the couch. She was not a decorative young woman, but the clever use of clothes and make-up had given her an attractive appearance, enhanced by her cap of auburn hair. She was regarding Julie with an appraising stare that was nothing short of insolent and Julie felt a fleeting sensation of annoyance. Then she firmly decided she was allowing Robert’s attitude to influence her judgement. In a friendly fashion, she said: ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here to welcome you, Miss Lawson.’ She went towards her holding out her hand and the young woman took it languidly. ‘I’m Julie Pemberton, Emma’s mother.’

  Miss Lawson decided it was time to show some enthusiasm and rose to her feet. She was taller than Julie, and this seemed to please her. ‘How do you do, Mrs. Pemberton,’ she said politely. ‘I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. Tell me, where’s Emma?’

  Julie raised her eyes to Robert’s reluctantly. ‘Haven’t they come back yet?’ she asked, almost unnecessarily. ‘Your mother has taken Emma to the Zoo.’

  Robert folded his arms across his chest. He looked bigger and more powerful than ever after Francis’s shorter, less muscular frame. ‘It isn’t necessary for Miss Lawson to meet Emma today. My main concern in arranging this meeting was to enable you to meet Miss Lawson and hear her suggestions regarding Emma’s schooling.’

  Julie took a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t aware that we had made any definite decision regarding Emma’s schooling,’ she remarked, with assumed nonchalance.

  Robert’s expression darkened. ‘On the contrary, it’s all arranged. Miss Lawson will take up residence with you at Thorpe Hulme at the end of the week when you move in. I can see no difficulties whatsoever.’

  Julie held up her head. She would not be intimidated in front of this strange young woman. ‘I’m not at all convinced that Emma requires a governess,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sure the school in the village will be more than adequate to deal with her early education. When she’s a little older—’

  Robert’s eyes glittered. ‘Allow me to be the best judge of that, Julie,’ he said dourly.

  ‘I think we should discuss it a little more,’ she said, trying to be conciliatory.

  ‘There’s nothing to discuss.’

  ‘I don’t agree.’ Julie gave Miss Lawson a faint smile. ‘I’ve no doubt that Miss Lawson is an exceptionally good governess, but I should prefer Emma to mix with other children during the day.’

  ‘I do not intend to conduct an argument with you, Julie.’ Robert’s arms fell to his sides. ‘As I’ve said, I brought Miss Lawson here so that you should get to know one another.’

  Julie seethed, but she turned to the girl helplessly. ‘Have you had some tea, Miss Lawson? Would you like some?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Miss Lawson inclined her head coolly and Julie walked quickly across the room to the door, indicating that the governess should be seated again. In the hall between the lounge and the kitchen, Robert caught up with her, preventing her progress by grasping her wrist in a vice-like hold.

  ‘One minute!’ he snarled savagely. ‘Where the hell do you think you’ve been until this time? Do you realize it’s after half past three?’

  Julie stared up at’ him indignantly. The hall was narrow at this point and his hold on her wrist brought her closer to him than she had been since she returned from Malaya. His fingers on her wrist were cool and hard, but the anger she could see so clearly in his eyes was anything but cool. He was blazing.

  ‘You’re not my keeper, Robert,’ she said clearly.

  ‘I didn’t say I was. I asked where you had been.’

  ‘I went out for lunch.’

  ‘Damn you, I know that. I want to know with whom?’ Robert’s finger tightened. ‘Do you want me to break your wrist?’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare!’

  ‘Try me!’ Robert’s burning eyes gave an indication of his determination.

  Julie’s throat felt constricted. ‘You – you brute!’ She almost spat the words at him. ‘If you must know, I went to lunch with Francis!’

  ‘Francis?’ Robert shook his head. ‘Francis who?’

  ‘Francis Hillingdon. Now will you please let go of my wrist?’

  ‘Francis Hillingdon!’ Robert was obviously astounded, but still he did not let go of her. ‘Pamela’s father?’

  ‘The very same,’ retorted Julie sarcastically. ‘Let me go!’

  Robert ignored her demand. ‘What the hell are you doing having lunch with him? You hardly know him.’

  ‘Well, I know him a little better now,’ returned Julie, in a taunting voice, unable to prevent the jibe.

  ‘You bitch!’ Robert stared down at her upturned face with a twisted expression on his. ‘How did you come to have lunch with Francis?’

  ‘He asked me,’ answered Julie, grimacing. ‘What’s it to you? There was no harm in it. He rang me this morning and asked me to lunch. That’s all.’

  Robert’s eyes narrowed. ‘I didn’t know Francis went in for that kind of thing.’

  ‘He doesn’t. And what do you mean – that kind of thing? I’ve told you. It was perfectly innocent.’

  ‘I bet.’ Robert looked down at the slender wrist in his grasp. ‘I could snap this as easily as a matchstick,’ he remarked grimly. ‘Or perhaps it’s your neck I should break!’

  Julie gave a nervous laugh, unaccountably apprehensive of the look in his grey eyes. ‘Now stop it, Robert. We – we’re wasting time. Miss – er – Miss Lawson will be wondering what’s happened to her tea.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn about Miss Lawson’s tea!’ snapped Robert harshly.

  ‘Well, I do.’ Julie struggled unsuccessfully to free herself, and in the struggle a couple of the buttons of her suit jacket came unfastened so that she drew the gap together self-consciously.

  Robert’s eyes were disturbingly insolent. ‘Have you got anything on under that jacket?’ he demanded thickly.

  Julie’s cheeks went scarlet. ‘Robert, please,’ she pleaded uneasily, but he took no notice.

  Suddenly, he pulled her closer to him, twisting her wrist behind his back, so that her body was pressing against the hard, muscular length of his. Then he looked at her, his eyes half closed.

  ‘Well?’ he muttered huskily. ‘What are you going to do now?’

  Julie wriggled impotently beneath that devastating gaze, but her movements only served to incite him further and his hand on her wrist tightened, pressing her so closely against him she felt she couldn’t breathe.

  ‘Robert, please,’ she said again, but faintly now, her senses becoming unwillingly inflamed by the pure sensuality of him. The clean, male smell of him was in her nostrils, the heat of his body was invading hers. He slid his free hand over her shoulder and under the heavy weight of her hair, cupping her nape, tipping back her head so that she was forced to look into his tormented face.

  ‘Tell me,’ he muttered grimly, so that she became convinced he was trying to torture himself more than her. ‘Tell me, Julie, how did it feel being married to Michael? How could you let him touch you? How could you lie in his arms, and let him make lov
e to you knowing that you didn’t love him?’

  Julie tried to turn her head from side to side, but her face was pressed against his chest and she could scarcely breathe. Releasing her jacket, she put her hand against his chest in an effort to push him away from her, but instead her fingers encountered the soft silk of his shirt and lingered. On impulse, she slid two fingers between the buttons and touched the hair-roughened skin beneath.

  ‘Dear God,’ she heard him groan, and then he bent his head and his mouth fastened on hers, parting her lips with savage insistence. His kiss was brutal, violent, passionate, and yet contemptuous, but for all that when he would have lifted his head, she gripped a handful of his hair, clinging to him so that instead of letting her go he slid his arms around her, beneath the offending jacket against the warm skin of her midriff. The kiss became deeper, hungrier, more demandingly intimate, so that Julie’s bones turned to water and she felt weak and helpless. Only Robert had ever had the power to reduce her resistance to nil.

  When at last he let her go, she swayed a little, unable to orientate herself immediately. Robert was pale, scrubbing the back of his hand across his mouth bitterly, his expression more forbidding than ever.

  ‘You selfish little bitch!’ he bit out savagely. ‘You don’t change a bit, do you? You don’t care who you hurt!’

  Julie buttoned her jacket with trembling fingers, her momentary weakness vanishing beneath the tide of his anger. ‘I didn’t ask you to touch me!’ she exclaimed defensively, aware that so far as he was concerned her actions had only damned her still further in his eyes.

  Robert raked a hand through his hair, his face contorted. ‘No,’ he conceded grimly. ‘You didn’t do that. But you’re not going to try and tell me you objected, are you?’

  Julie assumed a nonchalance she was far from feeling. ‘No, I shan’t contradict you, Robert,’ she replied, with feeling. ‘Why should I? You wouldn’t believe me anyway, and besides, you always were an expert at making love, weren’t you? How did you gain your experience, I wonder?’

  Robert’s jaw tightened and a muscle worked in his cheek. He stood looking at her for a long disturbing moment, and then without another word, he pushed past her, disappearing into his own room. Julie stood where he had left her, realizing she was trembling all over. Then, with determination, she approached the door of the kitchen and putting her head round it, said, in an amazingly calm tone: ‘Could we have tea for three, please, Halbird?’

  Julie would have liked to have gone to her room before reentering the lounge, but Miss Lawson had been left alone long enough and she did not want to arouse suspicions from that quarter. Even so, she was intensely conscious of the fact that her cheeks were burning now and that her mouth must be bare of all lipstick. For an insane moment an intense longing to go to Robert’s room slid over her, and then she forced herself to be sensible. That she still disturbed him physically was obvious, but that was not love, and while she might be capable of arousing a further exhibition of his sexual expertise, his eventual reactions would be the same. While she …

  Miss Lawson was sitting on the couch, smoking a cigarette, and she looked up rather impatiently as Julie entered the room.

  ‘Oh, I’m – er – sorry for the delay, yet again,’ murmured Julie inadequately. ‘I – I’ve ordered some tea. Won’t you tell me a little about yourself while we wait?’

  The young woman regarded her in a hostile fashion which Julie didn’t altogether understand. ‘Do I take it I am to be Emma’s governess, then?’ she asked pointedly.

  Julie seated herself opposite the girl on a matching couch of soft leather. ‘Let us say, for the moment, I accept the status quo,’ she said carefully.

  Miss Lawson raised her eyebrows. ‘But Mr. Pemberton is my employer, isn’t he?’

  ‘Indirectly, yes.’ Julie sighed. ‘Look, Miss Lawson, you and I are expected to live together. I don’t think it’s unreasonable that we should at least try to get to know one another, do you?’ Trying to introduce a friendlier note, she went on: ‘Now – what’s your name, your Christian name? I can’t call you Miss Lawson all the time.’

  ‘It’s Sandra, actually,’ replied the girl. ‘But I’d prefer to remain Miss Lawson in front of Emma. Familiarity is not good for discipline, you know.’

  Julie tried to prevent the smile from disappearing from her face entirely. ‘I don’t think you’ll require a great deal of discipline with a five-year-old, Miss – er – Sandra. Besides, Emma is not that kind of child.’

  ‘What kind of child, Mrs. Pemberton?’

  ‘The kind that continually requires discipline. Emma is a rather self-contained and self-controlled person. I can’t honestly imagine her causing any great problem.’

  ‘You’re her mother, Mrs. Pemberton. You wouldn’t understand the problems a teacher can come up against.’

  ‘I should imagine it would depend a lot upon the teacher,’ retorted Julie, getting quite heated in spite of herself.

  Halbird broke up the atmosphere by wheeling in the tea trolley and for a while they were engrossed in plying cups of tea and plates of sandwiches. Julie had charge of the teapot, but she ate nothing. The idea of food at this moment was repugnant to her.

  Sandra Lawson made a good meal. She ate heartily, and Julie thought rather uncharitably that if she wasn’t careful she would run to fat. Only her height saved her from being overweight at the moment. She was drinking her third cup of tea when Robert reappeared.

  He had changed, Julie saw at once, and from the drops of water glinting on his dark hair, he had had a shower too. In casual clothes he had a lazy indolence and Julie found it hard to believe that only a few minutes ago he had lost control of himself and made passionate love to her. How could he switch his emotions off like that, while she was still a quaking mass of nerves and sensations?

  Sandra Lawson seemed pleased to see him. She smiled warmly in his direction and although the muscles of Robert’s face scarcely relaxed at all, there was a faint softening in his expression as he looked towards her.

  He looked at Julie, and his demeanour underwent a dramatic change. ‘Well?’ he asked curtly. ‘Is everything arranged?’

  Julie shrugged. ‘Do I have any say in the matter?’

  ‘Julie!’ His tone was savage, and she realized he was not as indifferent as he appeared.

  Julie shivered. ‘Oh, very well. Make whatever arrangements you like.’ She slid off the couch. ‘My presence seems entirely incidental.’

  Robert looked at her as though he would have liked to have said something more, but he seemed to change his mind and the sound of the outer door opening caused him to glance round rather irritably.

  Emma bounded into the room, small and dark and utterly adorable in her red anorak and green trews. She stopped short at the sight of Sandra Lawson, and looked inquiringly towards her mother.

  Julie bent down and hugged her. ‘Hello, darling,’ she said. ‘Had a good day?’

  ‘Oh! It was super, Mummy!’ Emma was enthusiastic. Releasing herself from her mother, she skipped across to Robert, taking his hand in both of hers and tugging it excitedly. ‘We saw absolutely everything, Uncle Robert, and Grandma bought me some ice cream and some Coke and heaps of sweets.’

  ‘Did she indeed?’ Robert’s tone was dry, but the tenseness of his expression disappeared in the face of Emma’s enchanting personality. There was no doubting the affection he had for her, and Julie wondered why the knowledge hurt so much.

  ‘We saw some ponies, too,’ went on Emma eagerly, ‘and do you know what Grandma said? She said I might have a pony when we move to the country. Will I? Will you buy me one, Uncle Robert!’

  ‘Emma!’ Julie was annoyed, and Lucy, coming into the room at that moment folding her gloves into her handbag, said:

  ‘Not now, Emma, not now!’ rather irritably.

  Then she saw Sandra Lawson and her expression became welcoming. ‘Sandra! Sandra, my dear. I didn’t know you were coming here today or I’d have made a point of be
ing at home.’

  ‘Miss Lawson wasn’t aware of the arrangement herself until I rang her this morning,’ remarked Robert, in explanation, helping Emma off with her anorak. He looked down at the child. ‘Miss Lawson is to be your governess. Do you know what a governess is?’

  Emma frowned. ‘Is it like an ayah?’ she asked.

  Robert shook his head. ‘No, an ayah is a sort of nanny. A governess is like a teacher. She teaches you lessons.’

  Emma’s small face grew anxious. ‘At school?’ she queried.

  ‘No. Not at school.’ Robert went down on his haunches beside her, putting himself on eye level terms with her. ‘Miss Lawson is going to live with you and Mummy at Thorpe Hulme.’

  Emma looked across at her mother for confirmation and Julie’s heart went out to her. ‘But – but Mummy said that when we came to England I would be able to go to a proper school!’ she protested.

  ‘Well, Mummy was wrong,’ replied Robert abruptly, getting to his feet again.

  ‘But why?’ Emma was not to be put off. She tugged at his waistcoat. ‘Come here again, Uncle Robert.’ She pointed down to the floor beside her and goodnaturedly Robert resumed his earlier position.

  ‘What now?’

  Emma put her hands on his shoulders, experimentally poking her fingers in his ears. ‘Why can’t I go to school as well?’

  Robert sighed and Lucy clicked her tongue, lifting the lid of the teapot and examining the contents. ‘Stop asking silly questions, Emma. Uncle Robert knows best.’

  Robert put his hands on Emma’s small waist and when he straightened this time she was in his arms, her arms round his neck with a curious kind of possession. Watching them together, Julie wondered whether Emma found in Robert a counterpart of Michael. Or was it something more than that? Certainly Robert had plenty of patience with her and the child responded to that.

  ‘Put her down, Robert. She’s not a baby!’ exclaimed Lucy irritably, but Robert ignored her, talking to Emma, making her giggle and hide her face in his neck.

  Julie couldn’t go on watching them. It was too painful an experience. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ she began, when Lucy said: