by Anne Mather
Lady Alicia sighed. ‘I’ve heard that, of course. Gossip is rife in the valley, as you know. I only hoped …’ Her voice trailed away. ‘That’s a fine boy you’ve got there. It’s a pity he has to go back to London. These are his holidays, aren’t they?’
‘He’s not going back,’ said Lesley reluctantly. ‘At least, not yet. He—I—Carne is—taking care of him for the holidays.’
‘Oh!’ Lady Alicia absorbed this consideringly, and then, looking across the yard, Lesley saw Carne’s mother making her way towards them. The stick was still very much in evidence, but her face was contorted with anger as much as pain, and the look she gave her daughter-in-law was denigrating.
‘You should have brought Lady Alicia into the house, Lesley!’ she declared reprovingly, giving their guest an apologetic smile. ‘Do come in, won’t you? It won’t take Mary a minute to boil the kettle.’
‘As a matter of fact it’s my fault,’ Lady Alicia insisted, making no move to accompany her. ‘I saw—Lesley, isn’t it? Yes, Lesley. I saw Lesley and your grandson working here, and I stopped to have a few words with them.’
Mrs Radley’s expression tightened. ‘I expect she was glad of the break, Lady Alicia,’ she said caustically. ‘Not used to hard work, these town folks, are they?’
Lady Alicia raised her arched brows. ‘I’ve spent a number of years living in a town, Winifred,’ she told the other woman crisply, ‘and I’ve never found urban living so soft. On the contrary, life in town can be desperately hard—and lonely. Don’t you agree?’
She turned to Lesley and she was bound to answer. ‘There are compensations to both,’ she murmured, wishing she could be left out of the discussion, and Lady Alicia smiled rather smugly as she finally agreed to accompany her hostess back to the house.
Another black mark against me, Lesley thought wryly, as she turned to collect the tray. But the comments that Lady Alicia had made lingered as she walked slowly back to the kitchen.
She was washing her hands at the sink, when she heard the Landrover turn into the yard, and presently she could hear Jeremy’s excited voice above the lower rumble of his father’s. It was unusual for Carne to come back at this hour of the afternoon, Lesley thought frowningly, drying her hands. He had gone out that morning and according to Jeremy had gone to Harrogate to get a spare part for the harvester. He hadn’t taken the boy with him because it was so hot, and because he said the roads would be busy with holiday traffic.
‘Mum!’ Jeremy came charging into the kitchen with his usual disregard for the floor. ‘Mum, Daddy says he’ll take me swimming. Did you bring my trunks?’
Lesley was about to answer him as Carne came in at the door, his sweat shirt unbuttoned, his arms bronzed and muscular below the short sleeves. His hair was rumpled, as if he had been running his hands through it, and he looked tired as if the day had not been a success.
‘I—well, no,’ she answered Jeremy now, seeing how his face drooped at her words. ‘But they wouldn’t have been any use to you anyway. You’ve grown out of them. If you want to go swimming, take an extra pair of underpants.’
‘Can I? Oh, can I?’ Jeremy looked from one to the other of them, and Carne made an indifferent gesture.
‘If your mother has no objections.’ He frowned as he looked at his wife. ‘You look hot. What have you been doing?’
‘We’ve been haymaking,’ declared Jeremy proudly, and his father’s eyebrows lifted.
‘Both of you?’
‘Well, I’m not entirely useless!’ exclaimed Lesley, stung by his tone, and he made a calming movement with his hand.
‘All right. I just thought you might have developed that red face when Lady Alicia came to call.’
Lesley’s hand went automatically to her burning cheeks. ‘I suppose you saw the car.’
‘I could hardly miss it, could I? Where’s Mary? I was going to ask her to make old Kipling a cup of tea. He’s sitting out there in that stuffy vehicle, dressed for all weathers! But he won’t leave his post. I’ve asked him.’
Lesley reached for the kettle. ‘I can make him a pot of tea. I expect Mary’s got her hands full playing maid to your mother.’
‘Yes …’ Carne nodded, and Jeremy exclaimed: ‘Well, are we going, then?’
‘In a minute,’ agreed Carne absently, and Lesley asked: ‘Where are you taking him?’
‘Just up the dam,’ replied Carne briefly. Then: ‘Why don’t you come along? You look as though you could do with a cool swim.’
‘I thought you once told me the water was too shallow to swim,’ she countered, and Carne sighed.
‘Marion had Aaron build up the bank about three years ago. It’s made quite a difference.’
‘Oh, I see. Marion,’ said Lesley bitterly, and Jeremy shifted impatiently.
‘Shall I go and get some more pants?’ he asked, and after a moment’s hesitation, Lesley nodded.
‘You know where they are. In your drawer,’ she said spooning tea into the pot. ‘Don’t pull everything out as you get them.’
Jeremy disappeared and Lesley made the tea, setting cream and sugar on a small round tray. Carne watched her for a few moments, and then he said: ‘Well? Are you coming or aren’t you?’ and she turned to look at him.
‘With Marion Bowland? No, I don’t think so, thanks. I don’t think I’d be very welcome.’
‘I am not meeting Marion,’ stated Carne grimly. ‘What gave you that idea?’
Lesley’s lids flickered up and then down again. ‘I thought you were, that’s all. After all, she’s a widow now, isn’t she? As eligible as she ever was.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he snapped, and she felt her stomach muscles tightening.
‘Don’t pretend you don’t know,’ she declared, pouring the tea with hands that trembled. ‘It’s all past history, and you know it. We don’t need to go over all that again.’
‘You always had this crazy idea about me and Marion, didn’t you?’ he snarled. ‘Just because she’s been in and out of this house ever since we were children, you’ve resented her coming here. You’ve resented her familiarity, and tried to make her the excuse for your own inadequacy!’
Lesley’s mouth opened, but no sound came, and Carne turned abruptly away as Mary came briskly into the kitchen. She looked surprised to find both Lesley and Carne there, but she hid her natural curiosity and left Lesley to explain why she had made the tray of tea.
‘I’ll carry it out to him,’ said Mary at once, taking over. ‘It will be quite a relief after the conversation in there.’ She jerked her thumb back towards the drawing room.
Jeremy came rushing back into the kitchen at that moment, his swimming gear in his hand. Mary’s eyes went straight to his feet, and shamefaced, he examined them for the dirt of the farmyard.
‘They’re not bad,’ he muttered, an appealing look on his face, and Mary grimaced.
‘Not now they’re not,’ she agreed. ‘But I don’t expect the stair carpet would agree with you.’
‘I’m sorry, Mary, it was my fault,’ exclaimed Lesley at once. ‘I sent him upstairs. I wasn’t thinking.’
Mary shook her head, her gaze moving speculatively to Carne’s withdrawn features. ‘I guess we all do things without thinking sometimes,’ she replied reassuringly. She looked at the tray. ‘Now, I’d better take this out before it gets cold.’
Jeremy looked anxiously from his mother to his father. ‘What’s the matter? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing’s wrong, darling,’ said Lesley quickly. ‘I—er—are you ready?’
‘Are you?’ enquired Carne shortly, but she shook her head.
‘I don’t think so. Thank you. You go along. I—well, I have some washing I want to do.’
‘Oh, Mum!’
Jeremy was obviously disappointed, but his father’s face was grim. ‘Your mother isn’t coming with us,’ he said flatly. ‘Does that make a difference?’
‘Well …’ Jeremy looked longingly towards the sunshine outside,
and Lesley felt her patience slipping.
‘Oh, go!’ she cried, with an exasperated gesture. ‘Just go. I’ll see you—both later.’
Jeremy lingered a few moments more, but it was obvious he wanted to go swimming, and who could blame him on an afternoon like this, thought Lesley bitterly. If she was not so stupidly thin-skinned she would go with them, but the dam was on Bowland land, and she had no intention of giving Marion another opportunity to cross swords with her. Not now. Not today; when she had other things on her mind—most particularly the things Lady Alicia had said to her.
‘Come along, then.’ Carne’s lips tightened as he turned towards the door, and with a last look at his mother, Jeremy skipped after him. And as the Landrover reversed out of the yard, Lesley went quickly upstairs, before Mary could come back and see the ridiculous tears in her eyes.
She was dressing for dinner that evening when Carne came to her room.
In the week she had spent at Raventhorpe, he had never once entered her bedroom, and the only occasion she had seen him upstairs had been early one morning when they had both wanted to enter the bathroom at the same time. Carne had drawn back, indicating that she could use the bathroom first, and when she emerged he was nowhere in sight.
Which made his present visit to her room that much more unusual. He knocked at her door but did not wait for her permission before entering, and she turned from applying a tan-coloured lipstick to her mouth, overwhelmingly conscious that the satin slip she was wearing did little to conceal her slender form. The shirt and wrap-around skirt she planned to wear for the evening were still laid on the bed, and she had yet to brush the silken curtain of her hair.
Carne on the other hand was fully dressed, in close-fitting moleskin pants and a dark blue shirt, his dark hair still glistening with drops of moisture from his shower. He came into the room purposefully, closing the door behind him, and leaned back against it for a few moments surveying her through narrowed eyes.
What do you want?
The words trembled unspoken on her lips as her eyes said it for her, and he straightened and strolled lazily over to the dressing table where she was sitting. Idly, he picked up a flagon of perfume and examined its scent, and Lesley turned round again, conscious of the lipstick in her hand. But annoyingly, her fingers were no longer entirely steady, and she quickly put the lipstick down before he noticed. He was only inches away from her and the sharp flavour of his shaving lotion drifted to her nostrils, as attractive in its way as the clean male odour of his body.
When she thought her nerves would snap if he didn’t speak soon, he said: ‘My mother tells me that Alicia invited you and me to dinner next week.’
Alic—oh, you mean Lady Alicia Skinner,’ Lesley faltered tautly. ‘Er—yes. Yes, she did. I—I explained I wouldn’t be here.’
‘So I hear.’ Carne put down the flagon and drummed his fingers impatiently against the polished surface. ‘That’s a pity, don’t you think? Alicia entertains only rarely.’
Lesley licked her dry lips. ‘I’ve no doubt the invitation still stands so far as you are concerned. It’s you she really wants to see.’ She hesitated. ‘Take Marion, why don’t you? I’m sure she’d jump at the cha—’
His violent imprecation cut her off with savage abruptness, and she sought nervously for the lipstick holder again, needing something to do with her hands.
‘I do not wish to take Marion to Warrengill,’ he declared coldly. ‘The invitation was yours—and I want you to accept it.’
Her eyes widened as she stared at his reflection in the mirror. ‘Me?’ she exclaimed ungrammatically. Then, with determined coolness: ‘That’s impossible.’
‘Why is it impossible?’
‘You know why. I’m leaving on Sunday.’
‘You could stay over until Wednesday.’
‘To go to a dinner party?’ Lesley’s short laugh was half hysterical. ‘Oh, no, I don’t think so.’
‘Damn you!’ Carne’s hands balled into fists at his sides and he thrust them into the waistline pockets of his pants, distorting the soft moleskin. ‘Oh, I realise,’ he went on with heavy sarcasm, ‘the kind of gatherings we enjoy can’t compare to those intellectual parties you attend in London and that we provincials don’t talk about the same sort of things as you sophisticated people—–’
‘That has nothing to do with it!’ Lesley was on her feet now, but without shoes he had the advantage. ‘You know perfectly well that I have to go back to work.’
‘I also know perfectly well that you get more than one week’s holiday in a year!’ he retorted harshly, and she made a helpless gesture.
‘I’m saving my other two weeks for when Jeremy comes back to London,’ she explained and his eyes darkened grimly.
‘For when Jeremy comes back to London?’ he echoed. ‘What do you mean?’
Lesley cleared her throat. ‘You—you know,’ she insisted. ‘You must. At the end of the holiday …’
‘Yes. At the end of the holiday Jeremy will be returning to school. I know, we still have that to discuss. But why should you want to save your holiday for after he returns to school?’
Lesley clenched her fists now. ‘You’re being deliberately obtuse. You must—you must realise that I want some time with him, too.’
‘And what was your plan?’ he demanded ominously.
‘I—I thought you would—would allow him to return to town for the final two weeks of his holidays.’
‘To be with you?’
‘And—and my mother, yes.’
‘Your mother doesn’t want him around the place. She said so.’
‘Not for the whole of the holidays, perhaps, but for two weeks …’
‘No.’ Carne shook his head, and she stared at him disbelievingly.
‘What?’
‘No. I said no. I won’t accept it. If you want to spend time with Jeremy, come back here. I shan’t stop you.’
‘Carne!’ Lesley’s fingers curled and uncurled. ‘Carne, you’re being unreasonable.’
‘I’m being unreasonable!’ His lips twisted. ‘Jeremy is far better off at the farm, running free, than confined in some stuffy flat in the city with a woman who can’t stand children.’ His eyes flicked scornfully over her. ‘Be honest for once. Admit that he’s happy here.’
Lesley held up her head. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said carefully, ‘I know he’s happy now. But I’m still here, aren’t I? And he doesn’t know yet that I’m leaving in two days. I don’t think it would be entirely untrue to say that he’s going to miss me.’
‘Then don’t go,’ said Carne, hard-eyed. ‘Stay until the end of the holidays.’
Lesley’s face filled with colour. ‘Stay?’ she echoed faintly. ‘You—you can’t be serious. Why—your mother—–’
‘I own this farm, not my mother,’ he declared coldly. Then he took a step towards her. ‘Why not stay?’ He looked down at where the hollow between her breasts was visible above the low-cut neckline of the slip. ‘I haven’t asked you to leave.’
Lesley’s breathing felt constricted. ‘Are—are you asking me to—to come back to you?’ she got out huskily, but Carne merely shook his head.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ he said, and she was shocked at the way his words dismayed her. ‘All I’m suggesting is that you spend a couple of months at the farm. Mary says you’re far too thin, and I agree with her.’
Lesley drew an unsteady breath. ‘It—it’s out of the question.’ She almost choked on the words and his expression changed from wary interrogation to grim impatience. ‘I—there’s still my job.’
‘To hell with your job!’ he snapped, raking back his hair with an angry hand. ‘That means more to you than anything, doesn’t it?’
‘No—–’
‘Don’t give me that. You’re one of those females who needs to prove themselves in a man’s world! Who hasn’t the sense to see that there’s more to being a woman than competing on a man’s terms.’
‘I wouldn’t expect you to
see it any other way!’ she retorted hotly, stung as always by his determined opposition to women’s equality. ‘But let me tell you those chauvinist attitudes are out of date in today’s world. The men I associate with judge a woman on her ability, not her sex!’
‘Oh, I believe it.’ His lips curled. ‘The—men you associate with would! But then they’ve conceded so much ground already, they don’t have much choice, do they?’
‘What do you mean? They’re decent people, just like—–’
‘Are they?’
‘—like any civilised—–’
‘Oh, civilised, is it? Well, I’m bloody sick of hearing that word. Civilised! Particularly as every time you use it, you seem to imply that I’m not!’
‘And are you?’ she taunted recklessly. ‘Would you call this conversation civilised? Would you call what you’re doing to me civilised?’
‘What I’m doing to you!’ He stared at her incredulously, his eyes darkening with kindling anger. ‘My God, what am I doing to you? What should I be doing to you? Maybe that’s a more relevant question. You’re my wife. There’s a wholly—civilised way of settling this argument!’
‘No, Carne …’
‘No, Carne!’ he mimicked her, but when she backed away from him, he came after her so that when her legs encountered the side of the bed, she had no alternative but to sink down on to it.
‘Will you please get out of my room?’ she demanded, forcing the note of hysteria out of her voice, but the rise and fall of her breasts seemed to fascinate Carne and he squatted down before her, his hands sliding possessively along her thighs to her hips.
‘I don’t see why I should,’ he said thickly, bending his head to kiss her hands lying palm-upwards in her lap, and her fingers closed convulsively. ‘Such soft skin,’ he added, his lips straying up over her arm to her shoulder, pushing the strap of her slip aside to expose one pointed breast.
‘Carne …’ she protested again, as he levered himself on to the bed beside her, but almost of their own volition, her hands were probing inside his shirt, and when his mouth found hers, her lips parted to the pressure of his.
