To Tame a Vixen

by Anne Hampson

  ‘Then don’t exert yourself,’ she advised tartly. ‘It isn’t worth it.’

  ‘Oh, but it is, since when you are in a good humour, Beth, you’re quite attractive—charming, in fact.’

  Her heart jerked, because of the subtle undertone of his voice that told her his flattery was sincere, and because of the expression in his eyes which, although holding a hint of mockery, held a certain degree of admiration too ... and something else which made her feel warm and pleasant and sent vibrations quivering along her spine. There was a strange and gentle softness in the quality of her voice as she said,

  ‘Thank you for the flattery, Chad.’

  ‘It does something for your moral?’

  She had to laugh.

  ‘I rather like you in a teasing mood,’ she confessed.

  ‘I’m amazed that you’ll allow I’m teasing,’ he said, feigning surprise. ‘I half expected you to accuse me of provocation again.’

  ‘I must be in a mellow mood,’ she said.

  ‘Could it be the onset of metamorphosis?’ His voice had changed, and now it contained a hint of taunting amusement which at one time would have been the cue for her to deliver some acid retort. But now she had no desire to spoil what was a most pleasant interlude. It was to be short, since Rosa would assuredly appear any moment now—and if she did not then Jo and Carole would.

  ‘I don’t think the change will ever be that dramatic,’ she just had to say, peeping at him from under long curling lashes. The lamps above them were yellow and very bright; she could see the amusement in those keen blue eyes, the relaxed mouth and jaw ... and she felt that every particle of her being was affected by him. She looked away, only vaguely aware of other people, of their laughter and chatter going on around her, of the glow from the fire silhouetting those people who were standing in front of it. She was conscious of someone bending to pet Doug’s Ridgeback, of someone else talking about the yacht race that was shortly to be held. But all the time her mind was absorbed by thoughts of Chad and Rosa and she was recalling that Carole had expressed puzzlement at the delay in their engagement being announced. Perhaps Chad was not sure—The wish was father to the thought and Beth threw out the possibility of Chad being in doubt. Hadn’t he admitted that he might be considering marriage in the near future? And who else could he have been thinking about except Rosa?

  Chad was speaking into her thoughts and she gave him her attention.

  ‘No, I wouldn’t want the change to be too dramatic, Beth. Even were I to take on the task of taming you I’d not make the treatment so strong that you’d become meek.’

  She drew a breath sharply. Here was temptation, and she hoped she could resist it.

  ‘As there’s not the remotest possibility of your taking on the task of—er—taming me, as you put it, then there’s no need to talk about it.’ He said nothing and she added, ‘Incidentally, it would take more than a dozen like you to bring me to meekness.’

  Chad laughed.

  ‘I believe it would,’ he returned surprisingly. He picked another cutlet from his plate, but before he had put it to his mouth his attention had been caught and Beth turned to see Rosa talking to Neil Turner, the young man she had been flirting with at the Club dance some weeks ago. Beth looked at Chad, saw his eyes fixed upon the girl’s face as if by will-power he would make her aware of his interest. Was he upset? wondered Beth. Had Rosa been with Neil all the time? Beth had, after thinking about it, decided that Rosa must have gone into Doug’s house, to the bathroom, but now it would seem that the girl had been with Neil. She was laughing at something he was saying. The next moment the two of them were strolling towards the fire, obviously to replenish their plates with the succulent meats being cooked to a turn by Doug and his friend Alex. Beth’s attention returned to Chad—and his to her. He looked at her plate, saw that it was empty and said that if she did not want any more then they’d take a stroll.

  She handed him her plate, shaking her head dumbly, aware that as on that other occasion he was asking her to walk with him simply because Rosa was flirting with someone else.

  Was the girl crazy? Surely she could see that this kind of manoeuvre would not be effective with a man like Chad. Beth thought that if she were in Rosa’s place she would be particularly cautious because Chad could hurt if he decided to punish. Beth had experienced his wrath on several occasions, so she should know. But, she mused, perhaps Chad would not treat Rosa like that. No, definitely he wouldn’t. Beth could never in a million years imagine Rosa being put over his knee! In any case, he probably thought too much about her even to think of hurting her.

  Chad had disposed of the plates.

  ‘Are you coming for that stroll?’ he invited, and for a moment Beth hesitated, her pride urging her to refuse. Yet her desire was what she heeded as she smiled up at him and replied,

  ‘Yes, of course. Do you know your way around Doug’s estate?’

  ‘We’ll follow the paths.’

  ‘I’d better tell Carole and Jo—’

  ‘What for? They’re both in conversation with the Kelsalls—over there.’

  ‘Oh ... I didn’t know.’

  She fell into step beside Chad, her feelings mixed. She was not very happy at being made use of again in the same way as before, but on the other hand the prospect of having a stroll with Chad was far too appealing to be put aside.

  The moon was a crescent hanging among a million stars; the breeze made music as it murmured in the trees, tenuous and weird. Beth felt the tropical night engulf her, draw her into its mysterious magic so that all reality was left outside, along with the gay throng round the fire, the lights and the quiet strains of a waltz coming from Doug’s sitting-room where couples were dancing, the carpet having been rolled to one end of the room. Darkness encroached on the last shooting rays of light from the lamps in the garden and only starlight pierced the purple veil of the African night. A silence fell and as she walked along beside the tall figure Beth wondered why she was here, why he wanted her company when he could have asked others to walk with him—Carole for instance, or Jo, or Catherine Pitfield, a pretty girl of nineteen who was staying with Doug’s neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Cowling.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’ Chad’s voice, low and firm, seemed to have an imperiousness in it that should have by rights have brought a short and sharp retort from his companion but Beth was already drugged with the heady atmosphere, deeply affected by the starlight and the sickle of a moon hanging like a hammock from a sky of purple velvet. She felt small and feminine and tractable ... and expectant. Rosa seemed not to exist; she was merely a figure from a bad dream, almost nebulous.

  ‘I was wondering why you chose me to walk with you,’ she returned frankly. ‘There were several others who would have come with you.’

  He glanced down, his features blurred by the darkness.

  ‘Now what do you want me to answer to that?’ he said musingly. ‘Are you fishing for a compliment?’

  ‘Oh, Chad, don’t provoke me,’ she begged.

  ‘So you weren’t fishing for a compliment. Nevertheless, I shall pay you one, my dear. I’d rather come walking with you than with anyone else—’

  ‘Except Rosa.’ It was out before Beth realised it and she put a hand to her mouth as if by so doing she could take it back. Chad was oddly silent for a moment, and then, an unfathomable inflection in his voice,

  ‘Rosa was otherwise engaged.’

  Beth swallowed. That was her answer: he would have preferred Rosa, but she was otherwise engaged. Chad was jealous, that was for sure. But if he wanted Rosa so much then why didn’t he ask her to marry him? He must know that, once they were engaged, there would be no more of this dallying with Neil Turner.

  ‘So you asked me ...’ Again Beth had not meant to voice anything like that. But she was miserable all at once and the night no longer held any magic. How could it when she was stung like this by barbs of jealousy?

  To her surprise Chad took her hand; she felt his fingers
curl around it ... just as a lover’s would. Beth wanted to cry; she felt the need for comfort ... the blessed comfort of Chad’s strong arms.

  ‘There’s a seat along there—’ Chad pointed to a large baobab tree which made a grotesque shape in the mothy darkness. ‘I seem to remember there’s a seat round that tree.’ He made for it, having bypassed Beth’s words altogether, just as if he had not heard them—or perhaps he had not taken sufficient notice of them to catch their meaning. The seat could be discerned after they had walked another few yards. Chad drew her down beside him; she felt her heartbeats quicken, felt weak and young and very vulnerable. Chad’s personality was too dominant, too overpowering. There was always a certain mastery about him that put her on the defensive and she supposed this was the reason why she was always quarrelling with him.

  Tonight she was as conscious as ever of his mastery, yet did not resent it. She was sure he would kiss her, and just as sure that she wanted him to. But for a while he just sat there, holding her hand and not speaking. It was as if he were perfectly content, as if he found all he wanted in her quiet company.

  And soon the peace of the African night filtered through Beth’s whole being and she too was content to sit there quietly, her hand warm and small within Chad’s strong yet gentle hold.

  She became aware of the night sounds which she had heard so many times before, in the garden of Jacana Lodge—the medley of muffled sounds like the fluttering of bats’ wings in the air, the soft gurgling sounds of night-prowling animals out there in the veld, the distant cry of a night bird. And the more definite noises of monkeys alerted from their sleep by something that had startled them, the musical ringing noise like a bicycle-bell made by a bird with nocturnal habits, and from afar, the familiar echo of a drum-beat to remind her that this country was still primitive here, in this region of the vast continent of Africa. She heard the whistle of wind in the palms, the rustle of the leaves above her head. The wattle hedge glowed with fireflies, and from somewhere in the vegetation beyond the path a pair of bright eyes looked out, then moved and were gone from sight. All mysterious and a world away from anything she had known at home. It was like a magnet to Beth and she could not bring herself to think of the day when she would leave Africa ... and the man she had so foolishly learned to love.

  She spoke, impelled by some indefinable force to break the silence.

  ‘Can you hear the noises, Chad?’

  ‘Cicadas?’

  ‘And lots of other sounds. You have to listen for them—the quiet ones, that is.’

  ‘Such as?’ He was listening, and suddenly the air was rent by a blood-curdling cry like that of an animal in pain. Beth shuddered and without knowing it she leant a little closer to her companion. His arm slid around her and she came closer still.

  ‘A poor gentle little creature caught by a predator.’ She shuddered again. ‘Why do things have to be killed, Chad?’

  ‘It’s nothing being killed,’ he said reassuringly. ‘It’s a tree-hydrax. Haven’t you ever heard one before?’

  Beth shook her head; it was almost resting on his shoulder.

  ‘No, never.’ Relief was in her voice, and in the slow sagging of her body against his. ‘What’s it like?’

  ‘No larger than a rabbit, but it makes this astounding noise.’

  ‘Well, as long as it’s not a dear little duiker or some other harmless creature I don’t mind.’

  ‘Some animals are born to be killed,’ said Chad gently. ‘Other animals have to have food.’

  ‘It doesn’t make sense to me,’ she quivered, distressed by his apparent indifference to the subject of violent death. ‘Why does there have to be prey and predators all the time?’

  ‘Nature, my dear.’ Chad’s voice was still gentle, so very different from when he was throwing those poison darts at her.

  ‘This is the part of nature I hate,’ she returned fiercely.

  ‘What part do you like?’

  Beth spread her hands in an all-embracing gesture of the grounds and the veld beyond and the purple vault of the heavens above where Orion stood out, startlingly clear and bright, with the nebula discernible in the belt.

  ‘All this—the primitive land and the sky, with stars and moon and—and—infinity.’ Her voice was low and resonant, and a little awed because she could not understand the deep secrets of infinity, or the mysteries of time and space. ‘I love flowers and trees and streams and mountains.’

  Chad did not speak into the soft silence that followed words that were eloquent in their simplicity. He seemed to be considering all she had said, as if he would etch it indelibly in his mind. And when at last the silence ended, it was not his voice Beth heard, but the movement of his shoes on the gravel as he stood up, drawing her with him unresistingly, bringing her close so that her quivering, expectant body was pressed against his. She thought: if he loves Rosa why does he hold me like this, and kiss me?

  But he did not kiss her. He had lifted her face with a masterful hand under her chin, and she was staring wide-eyed into his face, waiting for his mouth to come down and possess hers when, like an icy shower being turned on to her back, there came the echo of a woman’s voice.

  ‘Chad! Where are you?’

  ‘Rosa ...’ Beth’s mouth was suddenly dry; a fierce

  hatred of the girl surged up within her, for she had felt that something momentous was about to happen, knew that from somewhere at the back of her mind there had come forth the hope that Chad was not totally unaffected by her, that at least some small interest had been awakened in his heart for her.

  And now the girl had intruded into the dream and the desire ... and the moment was lost.

  Chad was drawing away from her. He turned his head to look at the dim figure approaching.

  ‘What is it, Rosa?’ He sounded casual as if determined that neither girl should know what he was thinking.

  ‘Nothing, but I thought I’d come and find you.’ Even though there was only starlight Beth could see the narrowed eyes, the compressed mouth. ‘You’re not alone, I see.’

  ‘No, I’m not alone.’ The finely-modulated voice was still without expression. ‘Beth came with me. We wanted a change from the chatter going on over there.’

  ‘I know how you feel, darling.’ Rosa was all charm now, as she looked at Chad, a smile parting her lips, dissolving the tightness of a moment ago. ‘If you’re walking can I join you?’

  ‘Of course,’ politely. ‘But we’re not going very far.’

  Rosa said nothing, but fell into step beside Chad, having manoeuvred her svelte body between that of Chad and Beth so that, as they strolled along, Beth was on the outside.

  Surely Chad had noticed, thought Beth, glad of the darkness because of the tears that had welled up in her eyes. But he would prefer to have Rosa beside him; he was no longer interested in Beth now that she was here.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  In spite of Beth’s conviction that all Chad’s interest was centred on Rosa, there was no denying that he was exceedingly concerned at the idea of Beth being alone at Jacana Lodge. He came over one morning about a week after Doug’s braaivleis, and wanted to talk to Carole and Jo. They were out, having gone into town to do the week-end shopping. Beth shook her head when she heard why he had come.

  ‘I don’t want you to try to persuade them to stay,’ she said. ‘It isn’t fair, for one thing. I’m a firm believer that each and every one of us should do what we want, and not be influenced by others.’

  He looked at her curiously.

  ‘An Eastern philosophy, I believe.’

  ‘It might be. I don’t know. It’s a sensible attitude to adopt.’

  ‘It could lead to selfishness.’

  ‘There’s no such thing as selfishness, Chad. It’s self-preservation.’ Already he was shaking his head in disagreement.

  ‘Rubbish, my dear! If we all did as we want, regardless of the needs of others, there wouldn’t be much happiness in the world.’

  Beth had no an
swer to this, but she said again that she would prefer him not to speak to her cousins.

  ‘They have their reasons for wanting to leave here,’ she added, looking at him seriously. ‘So please, Chad, don’t interfere.’

  He was frowning heavily.

  ‘What are these reasons? At first they seemed very happy at the thought of having a year here.’

  ‘Yes, at first they were happy—in a way.’

  ‘It’s their boy-friends?’

  She gave a tiny sigh, feeling she ought not to be discussing her cousins like this.

  ‘It could be,’ she answered non-committally. ‘They have other reasons, though, which I can’t speak about.’

  ‘I see ...’ He and Beth were on the stoep, standing by the rail. She broke in before he could say anything else, asking if he would like some coffee. ‘Yes, I would,’ he replied, and she invited him to sit down, and went off to the kitchen to get Rikuya to make the coffee.

  ‘It’ll be here in a few minutes,’ she said when she came back. She looked at him, teetering back on the chair, one hand slid into the belt of his denims. His shirt was snow white against a tawny throat, his hair was bleached a little more than usual, attractively so. His skin was clear, tightly-stretched over his high cheekbones and a jaw that was flexed. He seemed to be frowning inwardly, but to Beth this impression only added to the attraction she saw in him. A wry smile touched her lips as she recalled how viciously she had once hated him—No, more than once!

  And now she was in love with him and her heart ached even though she was happy that he was here with her on the flower-draped stoep, here because he was troubled about her. Rosa would not like it at all. Beth was all woman and because of it she felt a little access of spiteful satisfaction that the other girl was jealous of her association with Chad.

  ‘Penny for them, Beth.’ Into her thoughts Chad’s voice came softly and she looked at him and gave him a smile.

  ‘They’re private,’ she said.

  ‘So be it.’ A small pause and then, ‘I seem to remember telling you to remind me to make you an offer when we were alone—’