by Anne Mather
Davina had little choice but to accept the situation. and short of being downright rude. Ruth could not thwart him. With a nervous smile at her aunt she preceded him from the room and ran down the stairs ahead of him. as if the devil himself was at her heels.
She opened the door for him, and stood aside for him to go out. but instead of doing as she expected, he took hold of her forearm and compelled her to accompany him out into the Mews. Only when they reached his car did he release her, and she stood indignantly, rubbing her arm and glancing anxiously at the upper windows.
'Don't alarm yourself.' Dominic commented dryly. 'Your aunt is unlikely to risk being seen peering down at us. Besides, what could she see? I was very discreet.'
'Discreet!' Ruth allowed all her pent-up emotion to escape in that low disapprobation. 'You don't know the meaning of the word! I don't know how you dared to come here, after—after coming here before. Didn't Mrs Radcliffe recognise you?'
Dominic sighed. 'Your housekeeper is an old woman, and it was dark when I came before. She wouldn't recognise me. And even if she thought she did. I should deny it.'
'Yes, you would, wouldn't you?' exclaimed Ruth bitterly. She expelled her breath unsteadily. 'Why are you doing this? What did you come here for?'
Dominic turned to face the car. turning his back on the house as he said quietly: 'To see you. of course. What else? How was I to know you'd be out taking driving lessons?'
Ruth shook her head. 'But you told your mother—'
'I know what I told my mother. However, I found I had to see you.' He shrugged, looking sideways at her. 'Have you missed me?'
Ruth's face suffused with colour. 'Missed you?', she gasped. 'How—how could I miss you? I—I don't know you.'
'You know me,' he insisted huskily, his eyes on her mouth. 'Oh. Ruth, come with me now. Let me take you for a drive. I need to talk to you.'
'No.' Ruth took a step back from him. 'You—you have no right—'
'Oh. don't preach to me about rights!' he snapped savagely. 'I know what's right and what isn't, and right now. I'm going quietly out of my mind!'
'Dominic!' She glanced behind her apprehensively. half afraid Mrs Radcliffe might come to see why the door had been left open, and overhear his impassioned words. 'Dominic, this is crazy!'
'Yes. isn't it?' he agreed, his long fingers curling tightly over the frame of the car door. 'I have to confess. I don't like it any more than you do.'
Ruth sighed. 'Dominic, you know I can't see you.'
'Why not?'
He was not looking at her, but at some point in the wall of the stables opposite, and she wished she was not so conscious of watching eyes.
'You know your mother wouldn't approve of this,' she said at last, and he turned to look at her then, his face twisting angrily.
'What the hell does my mother have to do with it?' he demanded. 'I'm over twenty-one. I don't have to account to anyone but myself!'
Ruth held up her head. 'So she told me.'
'What do you mean by that?'
She hesitated. 'She said—she said there were always girls in your life—'
'Did she?'
'—and that you were inclined to be reckless at times.'
'Really?'
'Yes.' Ruth swallowed convulsively, before continuing: 'But that—that you really loved your fiancee —I believe she said her name was Barbara Symonds —and that I shouldn't read more into your—your interest than there actually was.'
'The hell she did!' Dominic was incensed. 'And - you believed every word, I suppose?' He shook his head angrily. 'What if I was to tell you that the reports of my exploits have been vastly exaggerated?'
Ruth pressed her lips together. 'It's nothing to do with me.' she insisted, and heard his harsh intake of breath.
He said a word then that even she understood was not polite. It was just a short word, a succinct little ejaculation, that was brutally explicit, and her teeth ground together tightly in expectation of some further profanity. But it never came. Without saying anything else, he jerked open the car door and levered himself behind the wheel, and as she stepped back uncertainly, he started the engine and drove away with a viciously protesting squeal of the tyres.
It was incredibly difficult to turn then, and go back into the house. Climbing the stairs on legs that were still like jelly, she dreaded what Aunt Davina was going to say. and she felt too drained to argue with her after that exhausting scene with Dominic.
Aunt Davina, however, was in a curiously thoughtful frame of mind. Her eyes when they met Ruth's across the room displayed a vaguely worrying expression, and she was especially affectionate towards her niece as she offered her some tea.
'Did you have a good lesson, darling?' she asked, offering Ruth one of Mrs Radcliffe's home-made scones. 'I haven't had a chance to speak to you yet, what with that man turning up and everything.' She patted the girl's hand apologetically. 'You know. I was just about to go upstairs when he arrived, and I couldn't do anything other than offer him tea, could I?'
Ruth managed a mouthful of scone before replying. 'I'm sorry you were disturbed,' she murmured, rather awkwardly. 'I—I never imagined—'
'Of course you didn't.' her aunt reassured her warmly. 'I'm not blaming you. Ruth. It wasn't your fault. Obviously his mother was curious about you. and sent him round here to find out about us.'
'Yes . . .' Ruth hid her face behind a teacup, and her aunt went on:
'Really, he tired me out. Speaking with him was quite exhausting, didn't you think so? He's obviously used to getting his own way. Being an only son, I suppose.'
Ruth put down her cup. 'I thought you were saying he had a brother the other day.' she ventured cautiously. 'But he died.'
'That's right. I was.' Her aunt glanced at her quickly. 'Did the Crowns mention him to you?'
'Heavens, no!' Ruth made an expressive gesture. 'I—we—we didn't talk about personal things at all.'
'No. no.' her aunt nodded, 'of course you wouldn't.' She smiled at her niece. 'And now. somehow. we've got to extricate you from this party invitation.'
Ruth bent her head. 'Yes.'
'You don't want to go. do you?' demanded her aunt sharply, and Ruth quickly made her denial. 'I—I was just wondering what Martin would say,' she said evasively, instinctively choosing the right diversion. and Aunt Davina clicked her tongue.
'Yes. I know what you mean,' she said. 'Martin's bound to see this as an opportunity to become friendly with the circle the Crowns move in.' She sighed. 'We must just think of a way to avoid it.' She paused, then added thoughtfully: it might be a good idea if you and Martin went away for the weekend. You haven't had much time alone together since we came home, and I know he'd welcome the opportunity to have you to himself.'
Ruth coloured. 'Aunt Davina—'
'No, no. I insist. Young people need time alone together. And you and Martin—well, you know my feelings about that.'
Ruth licked her suddenly dry lips. 'Aunt Davina. I'm not sure—'
'What are you not sure about?' Her aunt frowned. Ruth shook her head. 'I don't know. I mean—not really. I like Martin so much, you know that, but—I don't know if I'm ready—'
'For a serious commitment?' Aunt Davina lifted her chin. 'No one's suggesting that you are. Ruth." She assumed a faintly injured air. 'Goodness knows. I don't want to rush you into anything. You've hardly had time to get accustomed to our ways yet—I know that. But. Ruth—' She broke off abruptly, and then continued again, more gently: 'I just want you to know that there are no two dearer people in the world to me than yourself and Martin.'
Ruth felt despicable. Aunt Davina had shown her so much kindness, flying out to the island, when her whole world seemed to have fallen apart, taking charge of everything, offering her a home, with the family she had never known she had. How could she disappoint her now. simply because a man she ought to loathe and despise was making demands upon her he had no right to make? What was wrong with her, that she allowed him this control over her
? He had no integrity, no decency, no respect—either for her or his fiancee. It might be easier if she was married to Martin. That way. she would be beyond his reach once and for all.
She and Martin went to a disco party that evening, and as he made no mention of Dominic's visit, nor did she. guessing correctly that his mother had reserved that information. It was easier if she too put Dominic right out of her mind, but when they got back to the house she was reluctant to face the inevitable isolation of her own bedroom.
'Let's have some coffee.' she suggested, when Martin flung himself lazily down on to the couch in his mother's sitting room. 'I'll make it. You put on a record.'
Martin grimaced good-naturedly. 'Okay,' he conceded. dragging himself up again, and Ruth pattered down the stairs to the kitchen to plug in the percolator.
When she carried the tray upstairs, she found Martin had chosen a low rhythmic blues sound, and taking the tray from her and putting it aside, he pulled her eagerly into his arms. With her hands looped behind his neck, and his hands on her waist, they moved sensuously to the music, enjoying the freedom from restraint after the press of humanity at the party.
'Mmm. you smell nice.' Martin murmured, nuzzling her ear. 'What is it? Something I gave you. It must be. I only buy perfumes that turn me on.'
Ruth looked slantingly up at him. 'Do I turn you on. Martin?' she asked, unconsciously seeking reassurance after her doubts of this afternoon, and he cupped her face between his hands and brought his lips to hers.
'You know you do,' he said huskily, but there was no real passion in his kiss, and Ruth realised that Martin was simply not capable of strong emotions— about anything.
'You know you're very sweet,' he whispered, kissing her again, and Ruth tried to infuse his kisses with a little of the excitement she felt when Dominic touched her. 'I've known lots of girls, but none of them as sweet as you. I really think I've fallen in love with you."
Ruth drew back to look at him. 'Have you. Martin?' she asked, biting the lips he had just caressed. 'How—how do you know? How do you know when you love someone?'
'Hey. you know, you shouldn't be asking me that." he reproved her, tapping her nose with a playful finger. 'When you love someone, you just know. You don't have to ask. You think about them a lot. Mostly, all the time. You want to look after them, care for them, share your life with them. You want to be with them more than with anybody else.'
Ruth looked anxious, is that how you feel about me?' she probed, and Martin gave a low chuckle.
'Don't you believe me?'
Ruth frowned. 'I don't think you care that much about anybody.'
Martin assumed an offended air. 'Ruthie. Ruthie.' he protested, feigning distress, 'how can you even suggest such a thing?'
Ruth's lips twitched. Martin was irrepressible. He could never be serious about anything for long, and she doubted if it was in his nature to feel really strongly about anyone. In his way, he did love her, she believed that. Just as she cared for him. They had fun together, and they laughed a lot. But was it enough?
'You're looking very solemn, suddenly,' he commented now. going to help himself to a cup of coffee. 'Has Mother been talking to you?'
'Aunt Davina?' Ruth turned away. 'No. Why? Has she been talking to you?'
'She's suggested we fly to Switzerland for the weekend.' he conceded dryly, and Ruth turned to him in surprise. 'Why?'
'For the skiing. I guess.' Martin replied, tasting his coffee, isn't that what people usually go to Switzerland for?'
Ruth shook her head. 'But isn't it too late?'
There are places in Switzerland where you can ski all the year round.' remarked Martin, with a shrug, it's only a question of getting up high enough.'
Ruth hesitated. 'And do you want to go?'
'I don't mind. Do you?'
Ruth considered. If it meant taking her out of reach of Dominic's influence, she ought to be eager. But deep inside her she knew she wasn't.
However, that had nothing to do with her decision. 'Of—of course I'd like to go.' she determined. keeping her voice light with an effort. 'I can t remember ever seeing snow before.'
'Okay.' Martin smiled. 'I'll make the arrangements. If we leave on Friday morning, that will give us two full days and three nights. I'll have to come back on Monday. I have a session at the track on Monday afternoon.'
Ruth tried to look eager. 'I'll look forward to it.' She shrugged. 'I know Aunt Davina will be pleased.'
'Yes.' Martin conceded the truth of this, and Ruth went to bed. determined not to think any more about Dominic's invitation.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On Thursday afternoon it rained, and Ruth, who had arranged to have another driving lesson, viewed the sudden downpour with gloomy eyes. She didn't like London in the wet. She didn't like the bedraggled buildings, or the choked-up smell of oil and diesel, and she particularly didn't like the feeling of claustrophobia that the lowering skies evoked.
As she had some shopping to do for Aunt Davina, she had arranged to meet her instructor at the offices of the driving school, and by the time she came hurrying along Bond Street, her head and feet felt soaked. She should have carried an umbrella, she supposed, but she was always afraid she might put someone's eye out with the perilous spokes, and the hood of the waterproof coat she was wearing refused to remain in place.
She was late, and her whole attention was concentrated on reaching her objective, so that when someone suddenly stepped into her path she practically cannoned into them. She gasped an apology, groping for the handbag that had nearly been knocked to the ground, and then realised that the man who had halted her headlong dash had not released her. She looked up anxiously, apprehensive that she might be being accosted, and blinked disbelievingly at her rescuer.
'Dominic!' she breathed, his name sounding husky on her lips. 'Dominic, what are you doing here?'
His expression took on an ironic cast. 'Would you believe coincidence?' he enquired, but as she continued to look at him blankly, he added harshly: 'What do you think? I've been waiting for you, of course.'
'Waiting for me?'
Ruth tried to absorb what he was telling her. but it didn't seem to make sense. How did he know where she would be this afternoon? How had he known what driving school she attended?
Raindrops sparkled on his long lashes, and on the silvery fairness of his hair, and she suddenly realised he was not wearing a raincoat. He had turned up the collar of his jacket, against the drops of rain that ran from his hair down the back of his neck, but his shoulders were dark with wetness. Added to this was the reluctant awareness that he did not look well. There were dark rings around his eyes, and his cheeks seemed to have hollowed out, giving his face a haggard appearance. It hardly seemed possible that it was only two days since she had seen him. What had happened to him?
Glancing round helplessly, she said: 'We can't talk now. I have a driving lesson. I'm already ten minutes late.' She sighed, concerned in spite of herself. 'Don't you have an overcoat? You're getting soaked!'
'I expected you'd be on time,' he retorted grimly, as she stepped back from him. 'And my car's parked just round the corner. Forget the driving lesson. Come with me!'
'Dominic!' She gazed up at him aghast. 'I can't do that.'
'Why can't you? No one need know. You can tell them you were ill or something.' He paused, and then went on heavily: 'Ruth, please! Don't send me away again.'
Ruth bent her head. She didn't know what to do. She knew what she should do. but his appeal was compelling. How could she walk into the office behind her. and ignore him? Could she do that, knowing he had waited in the rain to see her? She didn't owe him anything, she argued with herself unhappily, and yet she knew that when he had driven away and left her two days ago she had suffered the same conflict of conscience she was experiencing now.
'Dominic,' she began slowly, and his lids lowered to half cover his eyes. 'Dominic—we have nothing to say to one another.'
'Don't we?' He moved his sh
oulders wearily. 'Well, if that's your final decision—'
'Oh. Dominic!' Common sense warred with the emotions he always evoked, and as he turned away she caught his sleeve. 'All right,' she said, regretting the words almost as soon as they were spoken. 'All right—I'll miss my lesson.'
He didn't say anything in response; not 'Good' or 'Thank you' or any of the things she might have anticipated. Instead he took a firm hold of her arm and propelled her around the corner to where the sleek grey sports car awaited their possession. He put her into her seat before striding round the bonnet to get in beside her. shedding his jacket as he did so, and tossing it into the back. Then, after settling himself to his satisfaction, he determinedly took her shopping basket from her and deposited it in the back as well, along with his coat.
Ruth glanced at the narrow gold wristwatch Aunt Davina had bought her as he started the car. 'I—I only have three quarters of an hour.' she began doubtfully, and turned her face to the streaming windows when he made no reply.
She didn't know where he was taking her. In the rain it was impossible to read street names. She could only look at the direction boards they passed, and realised after a few minutes that they were heading towards the outskirts of the city.
'You—you said you wanted to talk to me,' she reminded him at last, when they had been driving for about fifteen minutes, and Dominic gave her a sidelong look.
'I know.'
'So why don't we talk?' she exclaimed. 'I should tell you, we'll have to be going back soon.'
'No.'
His denial was low and without emphasis, but a denial nevertheless, and Ruth stared at him. 'Yes, Dominic.'
'Do you think now I've got you to myself, I'm going to deliver you back to your aunt without us having some time alone together?' he demanded, in a tortured voice, and she trembled. 'I didn't stand a half hour fn the rain just to spend a miserable forty- five minutes with you,' he added, slowing for some traffic lights. 'I need you. Ruth, and you know it.
Now. relax and enjoy the drive. I've got somewhere I want to show you.'
