by Anne Hampson
‘You—it would seem that you were never really serious about this young man of yours!’
‘I like him a lot,’ she admitted, her eyes a little dreamy as she recalled some of the happy times they’d had together. ‘Kevin is great fun to be with. We got along fine.’
Chad threw her a sardonic glance.
‘You amaze me,’ he said tauntingly. ‘You must have been far different with him from what you are with me.’
‘Of course I was different,’ she shot at him. ‘He was different, you see. He was gentle and kind and always he would give in to me if I wanted anything that was perhaps different from what he wanted.’
The blue eyes flashed disdain.
‘He must have been a jellyfish,’ Chad stated. ‘Spineless.’ He waited for her to comment, but she could not think of anything cutting enough, so she said nothing and after a moment he went on, ‘I’m damned sure that a man like that would bore a girl like you within a week—if you were married to him, I mean.’
‘Why should he?’ demanded Beth. ‘We got along fine; I’ve just said so.’
Chad put down his glass and leant back in his chair, his gaze fixed on her face.
‘Are you trying to tell me,’ he said dryly, ‘that you’d be happy with a man who could never assert his authority?’
‘I suppose,’ she said with a bite to her voice, ‘that you would always be asserting your authority!’
Chad’s brows knit together in a frown of censure. ‘You haven’t answered my question,’ he said shortly. ‘Do you have to get in a dig with every other sentence you utter?’
She surprised herself by hanging her head at the rebuke.
‘Yes, I could be happy,’ she replied, and was told on the instant that she was telling a lie.
‘As for your assertion that I would always be asserting my authority—yes, if you want an honest answer. There should be only one boss in a house, and in any house of mine there would be only one boss!’
She looked up, her eyes glacial.
‘Then you’d never make a success of your marriage,’ she told him with conviction.
His gaze was stony, and long-drawn-out—meant to disconcert her, she did not for one moment doubt.
‘You know, Beth,’ he said at last, ‘you’re a tantalising little wretch. I find you both irritating and intriguing. You’re a vixen I’d like to tame, if I had the opportunity.’
Startled by the admission that he found her intriguing, Beth stared at him, trying to read his expression, but he had assumed an unmoving countenance which told her nothing of what was going on in his mind. She found herself saying, a curiously interested ring to her voice,
‘You puzzle me, Chad. Tell me, how could you possibly have an opportunity of—er—taming me?’ She coloured at her own words, baffled as to why she should have uttered them.
‘If we were married, for instance,’ was Chad’s totally unexpected reply. It brought forth an exclamation which Beth voiced without thinking of the insult contained in it.
‘Married! My God, you’re the last man I’d ever marry! I wouldn’t even need to be cautious to give a man like you a miss!’
Silence, deep and awful. Chad’s face froze to a mask of ice; his eyes were metallic, hard as steel. He regarded Beth with arrogant penetration, with unspeakable disgust. She coloured hotly and averted her head, furious with herself for acting with such lack of manners. He brought out the worst in her and, unreasonably, she blamed him for the anger she was feeling against herself.
She ought to apologise, but there was an unexpected dryness in her throat which prevented speech. She could have cried, though she failed to see what good tears would do her. She felt utterly miserable, uncomfortable because here she was, a guest receiving Chad’s hospitality, and yet she had insulted him, blatantly, unforgivably. To spar was different; they each shot barbs at one another, so they were quits. But this time—this time it was very different. In her impulsiveness and lack of prior thought she had said something which neither he nor she would ever be able to forget.
He glanced at her glass, rose to his feet and said, in a voice of ice,
‘If you’ve finished, Beth, I must ask you to go. I have work to do.’
She got to her feet, feeling herself to be caught in a web of sheer misery from which she could never hope to escape. She thought of her uncle, and how he would be shocked that she could show such appalling manners when she was in the home of his friend.
Chad was waiting, impatience the only emotion on the angular mask of his lean bronzed face. Beth moved to the steps and took them slowly, wishing she could bring herself to speak, to voice a sincere apology, but somehow she could not humble herself even though she was well aware that the very least she could do was to say she was sorry.
Chad did not see her down the steps, and when she reached the path, and something forced her to turn her head and glance back, he had disappeared from the stoep.
She bit her lip, and tears came to her eyes. She had been enjoying the chat with him about her uncle, and those things that followed naturally. The sparring had been put aside and she felt that Chad was also enjoying the conversation, and her company. True, he had later called her a vixen and said he’d like to tame her, but there had been nothing even remotely savouring of enmity in his words, and certainly no real malice. But her words had sounded malicious, in addition to being unpardonably insulting. He would never forgive her—and, strangely, it seemed to matter that he would now treat her with total indifference. She had a feeling of loss, and an odd sensation affected her heart and pulse. Her footsteps flagged as she went back along the river bank and crossed the little wooden bridge. There was Chad’s boathouse
Carole was on the stoep when she arrived back at Jacana Lodge.
‘We had a visitor,’ she told Beth. ‘A charming young, man who farms a little holding called Meronera Farm. He knew we’d come to live here for a year and said he felt awfully remiss in not visiting us sooner, but he has only one farm hand and could not spare the time, because of the mealies, or something,’ ended Carole vaguely. She looked at Beth, saw her expression and asked her if anything was the matter. Beth shook her head, hoping to shake off her dejection at the same time but failing miserably.
‘No, nothing,’ she lied. She pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Tell me some more about this young man. What’s his name?’ She was not really interested, but to talk would perhaps help her to take her mind off what she had done.
‘Doug Saunders. He’s an Afrikander like Chad but was in England for years, as his mother was a widow and wanted to leave here and live near some relatives they had over there. Doug came back two years ago when his mother died. He lives alone in a shack of a place—Well, it sounds like a shack, but he seems to like it. He’s ever so nice and friendly.’
‘Is he coming again?’
Carole nodded.
‘A week on Friday, for a sundowner. Jo asked him and she also asked if he had a friend or two he could bring. He said he might be able to bring one but not two.’
‘How old is he?’
‘About twenty-six, I should say at a guess. Very good-looking, and pleasant with it.’
Beth looked at her; she seemed to have formed a good impression of this young man.
‘I’m glad he’s coming,’ she said. ‘I wish we could make a few close friends—something more than the mere acquaintances we meet at the Club, I mean. I’d like to entertain a bit.’
‘Yes, so would I. Jo and I were talking about this very thing.’ Carole stopped and frowned. ‘There are so few people, though. If we do make friends we’ll have to make sure we keep them.’
Make sure we keep them ... Chad was a friend, really. He would have been there ready to help if anything went wrong. Now, though, Beth had the firm conviction that they would see very little of him in future. She suspected she would have to enlighten the other two as to the reason for his coolness, and what they would say she did not know. They would hardly be pleased. Carole was
speaking again, saying that this Doug had said he would offer his help but he was sure that their neighbour, Chad Barret, would give them all the help they would ever need. This only made Beth feel worse and she turned away, hiding her expression.
Her brooding eyes wandered, over the lovely garden, alive with colour, abounding with flowering shrubs and exotic borders. A brilliant turquoise-winged insect flitted about among a bed of flaring poinsettias; a bird flew in and out of the branches of a flamboyant tree; cicadas made music in the plane trees bordering one edge of the garden, having been planted many years ago as a wind-break. Canna lilies, golden allamandas, watsonias, oleanders—Beth had learned all the names years ago from her uncle. She looked up as Jo appeared from the interior of the house.
‘Hello, Beth. Where did you get to? You were gone for ages.’
‘I met Chad and went back with him for a drink. It was very hot and he asked me to have an iced lemonade.’
Jo grimaced.
‘Funny relationship, yours with Chad. I never know whether you’re going to fight. This time it seems to have been a friendly occasion.’
Beth said nothing, although she felt half inclined to tell them what had happened, just so they would be warned that Chad might in future give Jacana Lodge a wide berth. However, she kept it to herself for the time being, sure that her cousins would show open disapproval at what she had done.
The following Saturday they went to the Club dance as usual. Chad was there, but he ignored Beth altogether, not even greeting her when she entered.
She saw him in conversation with Jo and Carole later, but for the most part he was with Rosa, dancing with her, taking her in to supper, and afterwards Beth noticed them go out, into the dark intimacy of the grounds. It was a full moon, with a million stars to add light and magic and romance.
Something stirred within Beth, disturbing waves rippling through her nerves. The feeling was transient, gone as swiftly as it had come ... but Beth felt it was a kind of premonition of something that would trouble her later.
She was glad when the dance was over and she could go home. For the first time since coming to South Africa she felt unhappy, and deeply so. That this feeling was the result of what she had said to Chad seemed ridiculous, and yet what other reason could there be for her dejection? A deep sigh escaped her as, in the cloakroom, she found her cape and flung it around her shoulders. Rosa came in, looking brilliant as a star. There was a smile on her face, a glow in her eyes. She was saying over her shoulder, to another girl who was following her into the powder-room,
‘Yes, I’m sure of it, Wendy. He’ll propose before very long!’
The girl’s eyes caught sight of Beth and her whole manner changed. She adopted an air of superiority, of supercilious condecension as she said,
‘Ah, Miss Craig! I haven’t had the chance to speak to you this evening. How are you getting along at Jacana Lodge? I hope the running of the farm isn’t proving too much for you?’
‘Not at all,’ answered Beth stiffly. ‘The farm practically runs itself, our foreman and men are so conscientious and hardworking.’
Rosa nodded, her dark eyes running over Beth’s slender figure, then returning to her face.
‘I noticed that Chad didn’t dance with you tonight. It seemed rather strange, as he did dance with your two cousins.’
A comment to be ignored, decided Beth, quite unable to reason out why it should have been made in the first place. If Rosa wanted to know if a quarrel had taken place between Chad and herself then why didn’t she ask him!
The girl, Wendy, was looking on with a curious expression on her face and Beth made a quick exit, having no intention of exchanging any further words with Rosa, a girl she had disliked on sight.
CHAPTER FOUR
Beth had not expected to be invited to Valerie’s birthday party, yet at the same time she did wonder how Chad was going to ask her two cousins and leave her out. Perhaps, she had mused, he would not ask any of them. But he did—all three of them, and the invitation only increased Beth’s embarrassment and her first reaction was to turn it down. But immediately on this half-made decision came the difficulty of explaining her reason to her cousins.
She gave a deep sigh, feeling that her one and only course was to see Chad and apologise. He would gloat, probably, and subject her to a few scathing comments on her manners. Well, she was honest enough to admit she deserved anything she received from him. He’d been insulted and she could not blame him if he retaliated by letting her feel the lash of his tongue.
Having made up her mind she wasted no time, since to dwell on the matter would not only roughen her nerves but might possibly cause her to change her mind.
Valerie was in the garden when she arrived at Chad’s farm. The girl greeted her with a ready smile and said she hoped that Beth would stay for coffee.
‘Thank you, yes, I would like some coffee.’ Beth’s glance strayed towards the low white homestead, a charming, picturesque building with an unobtrusive addition at the back which had two storeys and wide verandahs to every room. The verandahs were draped with flowers—magenta bougainvillaeas growing in huge white pots, poinsettias, spray orchids and the beautiful flame vine.
‘Is Chad around?’ she asked, turning her attention to Valerie again.
‘Yes, somewhere. He was riding a short while ago, but I think he’s come back. He might be in his study. I’ll fetch him if you want me to.’
‘Perhaps he’s busy. If so, I won’t disturb him.’ Beth hoped he wasn’t busy; she felt that if she went home now she would not gather enough courage and determination to come again on the same errand.
‘I’ll go and see.’ Valerie sped off and Beth tried to concentrate on the flowers. The lovely flowering trees—flamboyants and frangipanis and the magnificent African tulip trees—waved delicately in the faint breeze coming in from the berg. Insects murmured in the roses and a brightly-coloured moth hovered above a scarlet anthurium flower, dainty and fragile, its quivering wings iridescent in the sunshine. Beth moved restlessly, wishing it were all over and she could go away and cool off after the cutting reprimand she was expecting, an ordeal that would leave her cheeks burning, no doubt.
Her heart jerked when she saw him coming, Valerie at his side. Tall and straight and formidable, he had the effect of making Beth want to turn and run. It was an uncomfortable feeling and one she resented. But it was all her own fault, the result of allowing her tongue to run away with her.
‘Beth.’ He stopped as he reached her and looked both puzzled and anxious. ‘Something wrong at Jacana?’
She swallowed and shook her head, wishing Valerie were not here. The girl was looking from one to the other, faintly curious.
‘No,’ Beth managed after a space, ‘it isn’t anything
at the farm. I—er—wanted to see you alone ... ’ She
glanced apologetically at Valerie. ‘It’s a private matter.’
His perceptive gaze didn’t do anything to help and once again Beth wished it were possible to turn and run.
‘Come into the house. Valerie, see that we have some coffee sent in to the sitting-room.’
‘Yes.’ She was disappointed at not being invited to have coffee with them and Chad, aware of this, looked at Beth and said, the merest hint of sardonic amusement in his voice,
‘I rather think that what you have to say to me won’t take very long?’
She reddened and shook her head.
‘No,’ she said in little more than a whisper, ‘it won’t take very long at all.’
Valerie was frowning now, her eyes fixed on Beth’s flushed face.
‘Have the coffee ready in about ten minutes, Valerie, and come and join us. We’ll be on the back stoep by then.’
The girl brightened and went off, her slender young body clad in a scanty sun-top and very brief shorts. Beth, in jeans and a blue and white striped blouse, felt quite old, and badly-dressed.
Once in the sitting-room, which was cooled by a fan worked by electri
city, Beth did not hesitate. She looked up at Chad and said quietly,
‘I’ve come to apologise for my rudeness. It was unpardonable of me, and—and I was sorry immediately I’d said it.’
A small unbearable silence followed before Chad spoke. Beth looked up into his bronzed face, wishing he wasn’t so tall, or so superior-looking, or so stern.
‘Unpardonable, eh? But you’re hoping I shall pardon your rudeness for all that?’
She nodded, hanging her head.
‘I hope you will,’ she murmured, hating every second of this humility.
‘What took you so long?’ he asked, flicking a hand to indicate a chair.
‘It was difficult,’ she admitted, and expected to hear him laugh. But again there was a silence before he eventually broke-it.
‘I suppose it was the invitations,’ was his shrewd comment, and again she nodded.
‘It—it would have been so awkward,’ she said, taking possession of the chair as she suddenly realised that he would not sit down until she had done so.
‘I don’t know if it would, Beth. We could have ignored one another.’
She looked at him and said impatiently,
‘Please get it over and done with, Chad!’
He lifted his brows, feigning puzzlement.
‘What are you expecting—? Ah, another hiding?’ He shook his head as he sank into a big armchair opposite to where she was sitting, facing the long low window that looked out on to the vast grove of lemon trees in which many of his men were working. ‘I can scarcely give you one here, Beth. There’s Valerie, for one thing, and the servants—’
‘Shut up!’ she seethed, abandoning her air of humility because she just could not stand his pompous reaction to it. ‘I came here to apologise, and I expected a—well, a dressing-down, but I’m not sitting here and listening to that kind of talk!’
His lips curved in the hint of a smile which was neither one of amusement nor contempt. He understood her, perfectly ... and she found it exceedingly irritating to be understood by Chad.
‘That’s more like you, Beth. The humble mien didn’t suit you in the least. You’re a spitfire, a vixen, and you made me feel uneasy just now because I didn’t recognise you.’
