To Tame a Vixen

by Anne Hampson

  Good advice, decided Beth, but she was not going back before the year was out. She felt herself to be on a sort of borderline where Chad was concerned, and she was managing to keep on the safe side of it. She was by no means madly in love with him, but was not fool enough to say that the possibility of being so could be ruled out. If she could keep her head and watch that borderline carefully, she would be able to leave Africa without much damage having been done. Added to this conviction was another: if she did fall in love with Chad, and if he and she did marry, then they’d be separated within a year, since if they could not agree now then it was a certainty that they would never agree if they were married.

  Beth spoke again after a long silence, bypassing what Jo had said and reverting to Carole and her problems.

  ‘I never liked Richard,’ she admitted. ‘And I don’t feel that Carole will lose anything at all if she gives him up. But as far as her feelings for Chad are concerned—well, she has no chance, as you yourself once remarked. Rosa will be his choice, we all know that. She has everything, beauty and poise, wealth. She’s a South African, and Chad’s known her for a long while. He’s obviously attracted to her, since he’s with her so much. Everyone expects an engagement

  and I for one feel sure they’re not going to be disappointed.’

  Jo was already nodding in agreement.

  ‘Carole knows of course that she’s no chance. And I believe she’s got enough sense not to fall head over heels in love with him. If she does, though, and he marries Rosa, then she’s going to want to return to England. For my part,’ went on Jo wisely, ‘I feel we all ought to think of returning—’

  ‘What about Uncle? You’re forgetting the promise we made to him.’

  ‘If we go back, and give up our fiancés, then he won’t disinherit us.’

  Beth looked at her as she reached for the marmalade.

  ‘You’re sure you want to give David up?’

  ‘I don’t think I want to marry him, Beth,’ she admitted.

  Beth shrugged.

  ‘It’s your own decision, Jo, but I’m staying until the year is up. For one thing I love it here. It’s hot, I know, and we’ve had these awful storms lately, but there’s something about Africa that gets into you. I’m not in the least anxious to go back to a city and to the humdrum life of office routine interspersed by week-ends of household chores and shopping and the like. Here, we’re waited on hand and foot, we’ve got a lovely house and magnificent gardens—’ She swept a hand towards the window. ‘If I were you, Jo, I’d think twice about leaving it all. You might not have such an opportunity again.’

  Jo became thoughtful, but suddenly she frowned. ‘I feel it’s too risky to stay,’ she said. ‘If I were to fall for Alex then I’d marry him and be a slave for the rest of my life. Yet look what I’ve to look forward to if I don’t marry. With Uncle’s legacy I can buy a nice house and furnish it; I would have a job, of course, but probably only a part-time one. I’d travel the world, Beth, instead of standing behind a shop counter—and probably having babies as well.’ She shook her head vigorously. ‘No, Beth, I’m getting out of here before my heart has the chance of ruling my head. I’m sure that if I put all this to Uncle Jack he’ll relent and put me in his will again.’

  ‘I never think of his money,’ said Beth, frowning. ‘I want him to live to be a hundred.’

  ‘So do I—we all do. But one day he’s got to go and then we shall all be rich. Meanwhile I shall work, like I did before. It was a nice pleasant routine until I met David and I suppose that all along I’ve had doubts about our ever getting married— ’

  ‘But you’re engaged,’ broke in Beth. ‘If you weren’t sure then why did you agree to marry him?’

  Jo gave a shrug.

  ‘I did mention that you were more cautious than either Carole and me, if you remember? You have a totally different attitude towards men and love. I wanted to be settled, so I became engaged. I believe Carole was the same.’

  Beth said nothing, but she was recalling her own impression that both Jo and Carole attached a great deal of importance to the married status, and that was one of the reasons why they had got engaged. Now, it would seem, Jo was having a change of both heart and mind, and was finding something attractive in the single life. Beth did not comment on this as she decided it was not relevant to what was being discussed.

  ‘I feel you should drop a hint to Uncle before you actually make any firm decision,’ she advised. ‘It’ll be a lot to lose, Jo, if he does happen to disinherit you.’

  ‘You and Carole would get my share between you.’

  ‘I’m not interested in the money, Jo.’ Beth looked at her, distressed. ‘It’s horrible, waiting for someone to die so that you can have what they’ve worked for. I’ve never been used to much and I was very happy with what I myself worked for.’

  ‘Sorry, Beth,’ returned Jo contritely. ‘I must admit it sticks in my gullet when I hear of people wishing death on someone so that they can have their money.’ Jo paused a moment, thinking about the advice which Beth had given her. ‘I probably will write to Uncle and tell him what’s in my mind.’ Her glance went to the door as Carole opened it and came into the room.

  ‘Gosh, I slept well!’ Carole was still in her negligee, and she stretched and yawned before sitting down at the table. ‘I woke up feeling foul for all that, but I’m a little better now.’

  ‘Foul?’ repeated Beth. ‘Why, what’s wrong?’

  There was a slight pause before Carole spoke. When she did speak it was in tones of resignation.

  ‘I’m thinking of going home,’ she said, her eyes moving from one to the other, marking their reaction.

  ‘Well, that’s no surprise really,’ said Jo. ‘I’ve just been saying that we all ought to think of going home.’

  ‘We ought never to have come in the first place. It was a crazy plan that couldn’t benefit any of us.’

  ‘When are you thinking of going?’ Jo wanted to know.

  ‘Soon, I think.’

  Both Carole and Jo looked at Beth.

  ‘I’m not going,’ stated Beth emphatically. ‘I’ve just told Jo I’m not.’

  ‘That’s up to you, Beth. We each make our own decision.’ Carole looked at the paw-paw which Sara had brought in and pushed it away in favour of toast and marmalade. Beth poured her a cup of coffee and passed her the sugar and cream. ‘What made you decide to go home?’ she inquired of Jo.

  ‘I’ve a couple of reasons, one of which is that I don’t want to become involved with Alex.’

  ‘You’ve no need to become involved if you don’t want to.’

  ‘I might not be able to help myself,’ admitted Jo, and helped herself to another piece of toast.

  ‘I thought it might be like that. Well, shall we go home together? I’d like to go quite soon.’

  Beth said at last,

  ‘I can’t manage the farm on my own. I think you ought to wait—at least a little while, and see what Uncle thinks. He’ll have to give me more help—or something,’ she added vaguely.

  ‘Chad’ll give you all the help you need.’ Jo looked at her and added, ‘You must admit that there’s nothing to running Jacana. It’s so well organised that there isn’t much for any of us to do.’

  Beth had to agree, but she felt that if she were left on her own then Chad would feel it was his duty to come over more often just to see that she was all right.

  And she did not want him over more often, especially when he was married to Rosa.

  However, she had no intention of making either of her cousins feel as if they must stay on her account. They had their own lives to live and they should be free to do exactly as they pleased.

  It was later the same morning that Beth mentioned to Chad that Jo and Carole were thinking of leaving Jacana Lodge and returning to England. She was walking along her favourite path by the river when Chad came along, going to his boathouse. He saw her and waved a hand, and came on past the boathouse, his long strides eatin
g up the distance.

  ‘Good morning, Beth,’ he greeted her. ‘You look cool and kissable, but you’re probably hot and waspish.’

  She drew a breath, wondering why she allowed him to rile her like this.

  ‘Just hold on a moment,’ she begged, ‘while I count ten.’

  He laughed and her heart caught as anger fled. When he laughed like that there was no ignoring his attraction.

  ‘Why count ten?’ he said. ‘Just be your natural self; it’s disconcerting when you make an endeavour to be nice to me.’

  ‘If ever you were nice to me,’ she rejoined with acid sweetness, ‘I’d probably pass out.’

  ‘Not you, Beth. You’re strong enough to stand more than that.’ His blue eyes were laughing; she could not resist and her lips parted in a smile that progressed to laughter within seconds. He stared at her intently, seeming to be interested out of all proportion. She was glad she looked cool and fresh, that her hair was gleaming, her cheeks flushed by the gentle lash of the breeze coming down from the berg.

  ‘I’d need to be strong to hold my own against you!’

  ‘But you don’t hold your own,’ he reminded her softly.

  ‘Mostly I do,’ she flashed. ‘If it depends on the tongue I can hold my own; it’s only when it depends on brute strength that I can’t.’

  He smiled humorously.

  ‘Let’s sit awhile on the bank here and talk nicely to one another for a change.’

  ‘I don’t want—’

  ‘Liar! You do!’ He gripped her wrist and she was jerked not very gently on to the grass; he came down beside her, leaning to one side, stretching his long legs out towards the river.

  ‘Did you want to talk about something?’ she enquired in a voice of ice.

  ‘No, but you have something important on your mind, so come on, out with it.’

  She gave a start at his perception, hesitated a few seconds and then told him what had taken place at the breakfast table that morning. Chad listened without interruption, a frown coming to his brow, slowly, to stay there and increase.

  ‘Are they serious?’ he asked when at length Beth had finished speaking.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure they are, Chad.’

  ‘You’ll be on your own?’

  ‘Of course. Why do you ask?’

  ‘I thought you might have decided to go with them.’

  ‘I like it here; I’m intending to make the most of my stay. I’ve only eight and a half months left.’

  He nodded.

  ‘Yes, you’ve been here three and a half months.’

  ‘I suppose I shall be able to manage,’ she said.

  ‘It’s a big responsibility,’ he said, his frown reappearing. ‘I don’t think I want you to run the farm alone.’ He was thoughtful, his lips pursed as if he were angry.

  ‘It runs itself,’ she began, then, as the impact of his words penetrated her brain she flashed him a glowering look and added, ‘You don’t want me to run it alone?’ Her brows shot up very much in the manner of his when he portrayed arrogance. ‘Who the devil are you to be telling me what you want or don’t want?’

  The blue eyes glinted, points of ice that made her think of cutting tools.

  ‘I promised your uncle I’d keep an eye on you girls,’ he reminded her curtly. ‘If they go I shall have to do something about getting you help from somewhere. I’d come over and help myself, but you’re such a damned little vixen that we’d be fighting instead of doing what has to be done.’

  Beth’s eyes glinted now.

  ‘I shan’t have help of your providing!’ she told him shortly. ‘I think I can manage, but whether or not Uncle will let me remains to be seen. But I’m not having your interference, so you can forget you ever intended to come poking your nose in!’

  His anger rose unexpectedly. She had rather thought he would do no more than find a cutting retort, but instead he dragged her up, took her by the shoulders and shook her unmercifully.

  ‘Oh ...!’ She was breathless when he released her, breathless and on fire with fury. She did not stop to think, but shot out a hand and caught him a ringing slap across his cheek.

  ‘Why, you——!’ His eyes blazed, terrifyingly. Beth turned to run, but had not taken more than three or four paces when he caught her hair and she came to a stop, giving a cry of pain as he jerked her round to face him. ‘By God, girl, you do ask for it! I’ve a damned good mind to rip that skirt off your back and take a switch to your hide!’ He was above her and over her, his face twisted as she had never ever seen it twist before. This was real fury, unbridled; she waited, trembling with fear, for what he would do next. He still held her hair, and without warning he ruthlessly pulled it back until her face was under his as he bent to kiss her. He had no intention of enjoying the procedure, since he merely pressed his lips in vicious reprisal for what she had just done to him. When he straightened up she saw the marks of her fingers on his cheek through a blur of tears. She tried not to cry but failed. Chad let go of her hair and she winced at the pain in her head. Her mouth was bruised, her shoulders too where his strong lean fingers had pressed ruthlessly into them.

  ‘I hate you!’ she seethed, her eyes like pools of fire. ‘Oh, but how I wish I were a man! I’d throw you in that river, crash your head against those boulders!’

  He moved a step or two away and looked at her. Beth felt small and weak and humiliated, while he, having regained that cool composure that was far more familiar than this fury of a moment ago, seemed big and strong and arrogantly self-confident. And to add salt to the wound he smiled mockingly and said in a voice of deceiving gentleness,

  ‘Are you going to apologise for those words, Beth?’ She said nothing and he added softly, ‘Not the words you’ve just spoken but what you said before—about my poking my nose in.’

  ‘I shan’t—’ She stopped. He was wagging a warning finger at her and she was wise enough to interpret the glance he cast at a tree close by—a willow with slender branches that could so easily be broken off. She went hot all over but managed to say,

  ‘I’m sorry. I—I sh-shouldn’t have been—been s-so rude.’

  ‘If ever you are again, Beth’—and now his voice had an undertone of dark warning which she had never heard before—‘you won’t be given the opportunity of apologising.’ A pause; she said nothing, nor did she look at him. Her head was turned away; the tears rolled unchecked down her face. ‘I wish I had the chance to tame you,’ he said. ‘You damned little wildcat!’ He was fingering his cheek as he spoke; she knew instinctively that he could feel each little swelling that her fingers had made.

  ‘You deserved that slap,’ she could not help saying as she turned around to face him. ‘Why should you think you’ve the right to shake me like that?’

  ‘If I had the right,’ he returned grimly, ‘it would be a damned sight more than a shaking you’d have got.’

  ‘You haven’t troubled yourself very much about rights before!’ She turned from him again, unable to stem the tears that began to fall again. She was drained, limp from his rough handling of her. She was a long while standing there, and wondered if he had gone. But when she turned he was still there, a frown on his dark face.

  ‘I’m going home with Jo and Carole,’ she said. ‘I’m not leaving myself open to your persecution any more.’ She did not mean that; she scarcely knew what she was saying, but she did know that her words had the most unexpected effect on him. He gave a start, then came towards her, his expression changing miraculously, and for the first time since she had known him she read contrition in those alert blue eyes of his.

  ‘Going home?’ He seemed to swallow something in his throat. ‘But when I asked you just now if that was your intention you said you were staying until the year was up.’

  ‘I did. But I’ve just said also that I’m not leaving myself open to your persecution. You’ve no right to touch me, and if I went to the police and charged you with assault you’d be fined heavily—or sent to jail. I’d enjoy every mi
nute you were there!’ she added finally.

  ‘Yes, I dare say you would ...’ He spoke mechanically, almost to himself. ‘Beth,’ he went on after a pause, ‘you mustn’t go home. You’ll lose your inheritance.’

  ‘I’d rather that than put up with you!’

  It was childish, she knew, and not at all like her, but she wanted to make him feel guilty, wanted him to believe that he was responsible for her losing her inheritance. Not that she thought for one moment she would lose it; she was willing to give Kevin up, but also she was intending to stay here. It would take twenty Chad Barrets to get her to move if she did not want to!

  ‘I don’t want you to lose your inheritance,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t go home, Beth—’

  ‘I shall! I intend to—and I hope you’ll always remember that you were responsible for what—for what I’ve lost!’ The tears again; angrily she swept a hand across her eyes. ‘You’ve been a hateful cad to me and I hope that one day you’ll be paid out!’

  He came to her and she wanted to move away, to run from him because she feared he was about to be kind and gentle and act as if he were sorry he had hurt her. She could not be sure of her reaction if he were to kiss her now, while she was feeling so sorry for herself ... and desperately wanting comfort ... from Chad. Comfort in the form of his arms about

  her, his lips on hers ...

  He did put his arms about her, and he drew her head on to his breast. He touched her forehead and then the line where her hair met it. His fingers were cool and wonderful, his body strong and hard, and yet it comforted her to lean against it. Beth looked up into his troubled face, her eyes filled with tears, her lips trembling and still bruised and swollen. She cried again and could not help it if her tears went on to his shirt.

  ‘Beth, girl, why do you goad me the way you do?’

  ‘Oh,’ she cried, ‘what a thing to say! You started it!’

  She felt him sigh against her. He tilted her face, brought down his lips on hers and his kiss was gentle and soothing on her mouth, her hot cheek, her forehead. And then he kissed her eyes and his lips were wet because of her tears.